#but it's floating around in the back of my mind

[norrisjpg]

only angel - ʟɴ⁴

the one where lando's best friend finally admits she's not the most experienced in the bedroom - and that's all it takes to flip their innocent dynamic.

part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten

contains; fluff, soft dom!lando, nsfw, smut; clitoral stimulation, implied masturbation, implied squirting, praise kink, mentions of fingering; inexperienced!femoc, talks of loss of virginity, swearing.

...

...

angelic rays of sunlight beamed in through the open windows of a monaco apartment, illuminating the body splayed out on the tangled white sheets of a large bed. it was summer, the air smelt of salt and ice cream, the clouds were nowhere to be seen, and the gentle breeze floated through the crisp air like a melody.

the softest of groans escaped her lips as she rolled away from the very thing that had woken her, and in her slightly hungover state, she had failed to notice how close she was to the edge of her moderately high bed.

thud!

"fuck," lily groaned, laying on the floor in a puddle of last night's carelessly discarded clothes.

footsteps echoed around the apartment, sounding like they were getting closer but she couldn't tell if it was just her throbbing head making things up. lily took a moment to glance downward, feeling a little cold at the loss of her duvet. she was wearing a bra - ew, why had she slept in a bra? - and her underwear was still on, albeit a little lower than what would be considered modest.

she gently pulled them up and managed to drag herself to her feet, and of course, this is when her door swung open. there he was - the reason for her hungover state - in all his glory, looking too good for this time in the morning.

"i heard a bang, are you okay?" lando asked, tilting his head at the girl, who looked a little dishevelled and very tired.

"fell out of bed." she murmured. "i hate you."

"how is it my fault that you fell out of bed?" he retorted, scrunching his face up in the same way he always did.

"because you got me drunk, and now i'm hungover, you twat." she huffed, picking up the clothes on the floor and tossing them into her laundry basket, not bothered by her lack of clothing in front of him.

"oh, get over yourself." lando rolled his eyes with a playful grin.

her response was a grumpy middle finger and she shooed him out of her bedroom, mumbling something about a beauty sleep and how men are so annoying - so lando just left her to it.

in all honesty, his mind had been running at a million miles an hour all morning - reeling from something lily had so casually mentioned last night.

"hey, i'm not a slut!" she slurred, in the cutest way possible.

a joking comment had been made by one of her closest friends, alexandra, about how her dress was a little slutty, and in all honesty it was. alex knew she could say these things to lily because well, they had been best friends before lily even knew who lando was... so a long time.

"if anything, i'm the opposite of a slut." lily giggled softly, leaning back into lando, his arm was draped over her shoulders. "harry and i never had sex anyway and-"

before she could elaborate, their friends returned with the next round of drinks, and the topic of conversation switched rapidly.

surely not.

harry and lily had dated for five years, from when she was sixteen, until she was twenty-one. their relationship was great, until new years' eve of twenty-nineteen came around. lily was well aware that harry was growing impatient with her. harry wanted sex, lily didn't feel she was ready yet. it's not that she felt pressured, but that she wanted to please him, so here she was. to cut a long and slightly traumatic story short, lily had gotten scared as harry was unzipping his jeans - and literally ran away.

somehow, the couple didn't break up for another two years - but the real reason behind that was that once harry realised he wasn't going to be - in his words - 'hitting it' any time soon, he found release in the grasp of some girl he went to college with in maranello. he cheated on lily for two years, and she didn't suspect a thing until he came to visit her after the covid lockdown.

they'd gone out for lunch, and harry had let it slip that he'd had to buy plan b pills recently - and well, that was the end of that.

now, it was news to lando that she and harry hadn't ever gotten intimate with each other - and well, he knew she hadn't brought anyone back to their apartment in time they'd been living together, but surely she'd been getting laid elsewhere.

it would make sense in some ways though. he always noticed how she'd flush a pretty pink colour when ever his hand lingered on her waist, how she'd look undoubtedly flustered whenever his gaze was trained on her, and how she'd become increasingly uncomfortable when a sex scene played in a movie they were watching.

surely not though, right?

lando's dangerous train of thought was interrupted by the soft thudding of footsteps travelling to his ears. his head snapped up to the girl rubbing her eyes, stood groggily behind the couch he was sat on.

"i thought you were having your beauty sleep?" lando teased, raising his eyebrows at the brunette girl, now dressed in the quadrant rugby shirt he had exclusively gifted her in january.

"couldn't sleep, my head hurts too bad." she mumbled, rolling her eyes at his teasing comment. "why do i let you get me drunk?"

"because you love me, duh." he responded, somewhat sassily, making a quiet laugh tumble from her lips.

"whatever, norris." she breathed out, walking over to the kitchen and grabbing some aspirin out of the cupboard below the sink.

she downed two pills along with a cold glass of water, wincing as she felt the cold liquid travel down to her stomach. lando's gaze was lingering, like it usually did - the way her throat bobbed as she swallowed, the way she squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw as the pills were taken down in her pretty mouth - she was just so... enticing.

"come here." lando beckoned softly, gesturing for her to come lay with him. "you can nap here if you want."

"please." she groaned softly, plopping down on the couch next to me and immediately resting her head on his lap.

he noticed the goosebumps rippling across her skin, wondering whether he was causing them, or it was because she was cold. he went with the latter, and pulled the wool blanket on the armrest over her body.

"thankyou." lily murmured, reaching up for his hand to hold, innocently craving some physical touch.

he gently entwined their fingers, caressing her hand with his large thumb. within about three or four minutes, lily had drifted off into a sweet slumber, snuggling into lando's warmth.

...

it had been driving lando quite literally insane all day.

he didn't have the courage to straight up ask her if she was a virgin or not, so here he was, dancing around the question like a fucking tap dancer.

"so you and harry?" lando said quietly, almost praying that she wouldn't hear him.

her head snapped up from her phone, eyebrows knitted together in a confused frown. "yes?"

"well, i mean you never really told about why he's made you not want to date anyone." lando shrugged, his tone seeming a little apprehensive, not wanting to strike a nerve. "like i know he cheated on you, but was that the only thing?"

"um..." she pursed her lips, a little gobsmacked that he was even bringing up the subject of harry, a typically sore topic for her - but she answered nonetheless. "he always pushed me for sex, and... i wasn't ready back then."

"he didn't... did he?" the pause in lando's words made it clear what he meant.

"oh god, no, nothing like that, don't worry." lily shook her head quickly. "but we were like so close to doing it once, and i got scared - then he kind of just... never tried again."

"oh." oh? ask her the question, dumbass. "so... you didn't lose your virginity to him then?"

"no," the brunette shook her head softly.

"when did you lose it then?" lando said quickly, the words falling from his mouth before he even registered the question.

lily went what only can be described as crimson. it's not that she was embarrassed - well, actually she was. lily thought it was a bad thing - she was a literal model, and at the grand age of twenty-three, she still hadn't lost her v-card.

she hesitated, before murmuring, "i- uh... i haven't."

"oh." do you really not have anything better to say, dipshit?

"yeah." she pursed her lips once more, averting her gaze to an inanimate object somewhere in the room.

"do you want to?" lando himself now had no idea where this was going, he was kind of just rolling with whatever fell out of his mouth now.

"of course i do." she huffed. "it's just... i don't want to lose it to some random guy i meet on raya or some shit. and i feel like it's going to put people off, like they're going to think something is wrong with me."

a soft frown made its way onto lando's face, and he shook his head.

"nothing is wrong with you, lily." the brit reassured her. "don't ever think that there's something wrong with you because you weren't ready for sex when someone pushed you for it."

she fell quiet, taking in his words gratefully, looking down at her hands in her lap.

"anyway, i'd rather have some experience before i launch myself into dating again." she admitted, glancing up at lando to gage his reaction - she wasn't really sure what she was suggesting, but she wanted to see what lando thought of it. "but i just... don't know where to get said experience."

lando contemplated, trying to decide whether he should just offer himself up on a platter or not. in all honesty, the thought of her dating anyone else made him feel physically nauseous, let alone the new knowledge that she'd be letting someone else be her first - that made him want to die in a puddle of his own tears.

"well..." he began, his words trailing off. "i could always um... help you out."

she slowly lifted her head up, looking at him with a dazed expression, not sure if she'd heard him right. "what?"

"i wouldn't mind uh.. helping you gain some experience." lando repeated, a little more confident from seeing the dazed look in her eyes. "teach you what us guys like, teach you what you like."

lily blinked at her best friend, furrowing her eyebrows. "really?"

"if you'd be up for it, yeah." he nodded, leaning back against the couch a little more. "and we'd go slow, promise. we can take it at whatever pace you'd like, sweetheart."

the way he called her 'sweetheart' made her inner thighs tingle and heat pool in her lower tummy. she simply nodded, too in shock from this agreement they'd just made - was she really going to fuck her best friend in the somewhat near future?

"words, come on." he said slowly, gesturing for her to come to him on the other side of the couch.

"yeah, yeah." she breathed out, getting up and walking to him. "i want that."

"sit." he patted his lap, and she just stared, doe-eyed.

he chuckled softly, leaning up and grabbing her hips, pulling her down on his lap so she was straddling him, her face now at a level height with him.

"is this okay?" he murmured softly, pushing her hair behind her shoulder, mapping out all the places he wanted to kiss her.

"yeah," she breathed out. "i'll tell you if it's not."

"atta' girl." he praised softly, and could have whined at his words.

okay, so lando hadn't even touched her and he'd already discovered she had a praise kink - a good start.

instead of whining, her breath hitched and her cheeks flushed once again, earning a soft smirk from lando as he traced his index finger over her jawline.

"can i kiss you, pretty girl?" lando asked softly, now cupping her jaw with one hand, and drawing circles on her tummy with the other.

it's like her whole world stopped, that sentence was like music to her ears.

"yeah." she breathed out, eyes flicking over the drop-dead gorgeous features on his tanned face.

usually, lando was a sucker for rough sex, fast and hard. but, while he knew he had to be gentle with her - something else about her just made him want to treat her like glass. he wanted her to fall apart in his arms, but in the most loving and delicate way possible.

so, he leant in, his head a little tilted, briefly brushing their noses together before softly connecting their lips. her breath hitched and he could feel her body melting into his, the delicious weight of her feather-light body deepening into his lap. and that wasn't the only thing changing in his lap.

his cock was hard, painfully hard already. he was pathetic, he had literally only just kissed the girl and he was about ready to cum in his boxers.

the kisses were soft and delicate, tongue involved but it wasn't like he was about to devour her whole. he gently pried her legs apart a little further with his free hand, the one previously tracing circles onto her abdomen.

the most angelic of moans left her lips, and she seemed a little shocked, the movement of her lips faltering briefly. he opened his eyes, tilting her head back with the hand on her jaw, beginning his toe-curling attack on her neck. he nipped at the sensitive skin gently, soothing the area with his lips shortly after - repeating those actions had her a wet mess in his lap within minutes.

she was whining, whimpering, pleading with him to just do something, anything, everything.

lily's pretty pink lips were parted as soft, airy moans tumbled from her lips, her head still tilted back as he peppered kisses across all the right spots. his fingers were toying at the edge of her underwear in between her legs, relishing in the dampness coating his fingertips - she was soaked, the warm liquid coating the crease of her inner thighs.

he pulled his head away from her neck briefly, gazing at her for permission, earning a needy yes from the angel on top of him.

"wanna hear you, okay?" he told her gently, knowing that as this was her first time, she'd be more likely to hold back her pretty noises.

she nodded, biting her lower lip as her breathing turned a little more rapid and a little more shallow.

"good girl." he praised once more, and the heat rolled up her body once more.

lando slid his fingers underneath her panties, bunching them and pushing them to the side. her hips jolted a little as his knuckles brushed over her dripping folds, and he could have groaned at how sensitive the girl was.

"relax." he murmured softly, flicking his stare back up at her face.

he slid his index finger in between her folds, coating his thick fingers with her sweet juices. his jaw fell a little agape as he gaged just how wet she was.

"fucking hell," he murmured, but it fell on deaf ears, lily too focused on relaxing - her lower lip pulled between her teeth and her eyes fluttered closed.

he slid his ring finger beside his index, parting her folds and dragging his middle finger up and down her sensitive cunt.

the urge to just slip his fingers inside of her and make her cum until she couldn't speak was almost irresistible, almost.

he let her get used to the feeling, before switching his singular middle finger for the pad of his thumb, which he pressed directly against her clit.

"fuuuuck-" she moaned out, eyebrows arching as she tossed her head back. "so good- shit-"

lando just admired her as he slowly traced circles and figures of eights on her sensitive bundle of nerves - the most needy moans now falling from her lips frequently, the volume increasing in tandem with the speed of his thumb.

he increased the pressure and she doubled over into his body, pressing her head into his shoulder and biting down on his skin gently - earning a soft noise from him.

"lando- god-" she whined, moaning out his name like a fucking prayer.

he rubbed her back soothingly with his free hand, while increasing the speed of his thumb once more. her entire body was buzzing, bubbling with anticipation of the rapidly incoming orgasm. her lower abdomen was coiled tight, ready to snap at any moment now.

one particularly rough flick of her clit sent her spiralling, her thighs beginning to shake softly around him as she came, hard. sweet liquid gushed all over his hand as she moaned and whimpered his name loudly, coating his fingers as he slowed his movements to coax her through her intense orgasm. it was pure fucking bliss.

lily panted slowly into his neck, her head reeling from the best thing she'd ever felt in her entire life.

"you okay, baby?" lando asked quietly, pressing a soft kiss to her neck.

"fucking hell." she breathed out. "yeah, i'm good, so good."

he chuckled softly, looking at the seemingly-spent girl in his arms. he didn't want to push her any further today, she looked like she was going to fall asleep right there and then.

"come on, let's get you to bed." lando cooed softly, lifting her up from the couch and walking lily to her bedroom.

fuck, he was going to need a cold shower after that.

...

hello! this is my first official series, and i'm super excited about it! i don't have a name for it so feel free to suggest, and any comments in general are appreciated :)

[astonmartinii]

other side of the moon - chapter two | formula one imagine

chapter two: a dutchman and an italian in london

pairing: fem retired formula one driver reader x ??? fem retired formula one driver reader x platonic!kimi antonelli

y/n still has a decision to make, maybe a little visit can sway her vote

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | PREVIOUS PART

the next morning y/n found herself sat on her couch with only brando’s loud purrs breaking the stifling silence. the letter from kimi sat on the coffee table collecting the condensation from y/n’s abandoned glass of orange juice as she continued to mull over the decision.

stuck in her mind, y/n stopped petting brando and stared off into the grey skies of west london. she told herself over and over again that decisions like this should be easy. simply, if she wanted to do it, she would’ve known the first time the offer was floated to her. but she didn’t have that immediate burst of excitement, instead she felt her heart stop and hairs on the back of her neck stand up. in that moment y/n had realised that a place that ignited that kind of reaction in her was not a place she needed to be - therapy had worked it seems.

but then again, if it was such a sure no, why wouldn’t it leave her mind? pictures of her in black alongside the young italian, back at the tracks she loved and around the people she admired flashed across her mind.

three polite knocks rung out across the apartment. y/n wasn’t expecting visitors and the front desk hadn’t notified her of any visits or deliveries. it was probably mrs. granger from down the hall forgetting which door was which again so she ignored it and went back to petting brando.

three more knocks, a little more urgent this time, came ringing through the rooms. brando’s ears perked up as he jumped down from the couch and trotted towards the front door.

“brando, come back here,”

y/n whisper-shouted towards the cat who neglected to heed her warnings. tiptoeing into the kitchen, y/n rifled through her draws for a weapon, settling on a ceramic rolling pin as her weapon of choice. as she crept towards the door y/n could hear some quiet bickering being dulled by the thick door and then a sudden pounding at it. brando meowed in surprise and bolted, likely for his preferred hiding place under y/n’s bed.

“y/n open the fucking door i know you’re in there!”

max verstappen. y/n sighed, lowering the rolling pin and opening the door. much to her surprise the dutchman wasn’t alone, peering over his shoulders was kimi antonelli himself.

“were you going to make me into a pie? move out of the way,” max said looking at the rolling pin and pushing past y/n into the apartment.

“yes, i guess you can come in max…”

max shucked off his shoes and moved into the kitchen, opening the fridge and cracking open a red bull. kimi followed apprehensively, taking his shoes off slowly and placing them neatly by the door.

“see! it’s almost like you knew i was coming,” max said with a smug smile, “now where’s my little boy?”

almost on cue, brando strolled back into the kitchen and immediately started rubbing against max’s legs. the dutchman knelt down and scooped brando up in his arms, red bull long forgotten as he doted on the cat.

“now you’ve tormented my son, do you want to tell me why you’re here?”

y/n asked, arms crossed and with an unimpressed look on her face. looking over to kimi, the italian quickly ducked his head and fiddled with the sleeves of his jumper. max continued cuddling brando, ignoring y/n’s questioning stare.

“i’m giving you two ten seconds to give me a good reason as to why you’ve come to disturb my peace today before i throw you out,” y/n announced. max cleared his throat and straightened his back, much to the chagrin of brando.

“right, okay,” max started, “you gotta take the job y/n. look at his little face,” max leant over and pinched kimi’s cheek, “look at him he’s so young and innocent. think of all the big ugly bullies like carlos and lando, you can’t leave him alone with them!”

“you came to guilt me into taking the job?”

“no!” kimi squeaked, “that was max’s idea. i wanted to come and tell you my reasons myself. i wrote you a letter but i don’t know if it ever made it to you.”

kimi’s eyes locked on the letter on the coffee table and looked back at y/n, eyes getting watery.

“oh. you did get it,” kimi started biting at his nails, “i’m sorry for coming and invading your privacy miss y/ln, we’ll leave you alone now.”

the italian turned to max, pleading with his eyes to go. max held up his hand, jostling brando again.

“we’re not going anywhere kimi, this has gone on far too long. y/n i get that you don’t really want to come back and for very valid reasons, but deep down i know you do. racing is everything to you and i know you changed your mind when you read kimi’s letter.”

kimi’s head shot up, looking at y/n with an unbridled and heartbreaking amount of hope. he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, as if to stop himself from blurting out whatever he was thinking.

“that bullshit article about zak is no reason not to come back. he’s doing it on purpose to keep you from coming back. he’s a fraud, we all know he is. he’s terrified of you, that’s why he takes cheap shots at you. you don’t need to go anywhere near him in the paddock but don’t let him keep you away from what you love.”

y/n sighed, her head in her hands but max just grinned, sending a wink kimi’s way.

“you know i’m right y/n.”

“why can’t you be a mentor? you can look out for kimi?” y/n countered, her words sharp like an animal backed into a corner.

“and have to spend more time with george russell? i’m sorry kimi but there’s only one person worth suffering through that for”

kimi didn’t really seem too bothered by the dig at his new teammate, his eyes not leaving y/n’s, holding onto every word.

“so you’re saying that i should have to suffer through that instead?”

y/n smirked at kimi and took her cat from max’s arms. she sat back down on her couch and motioned for kimi to come and sit beside her. the italian sat cross legged, body angled towards y/n. to his surprise the first thing the brit did was place brando on his lap. kimi let out a soft yelp before brando started nudging his head against kimi’s chin. ”he likes you, that’s a good sign. my brando is an amazing judge of character so i trust he would pick out a good work partner for me”

kimi stopped petting brando so abruptly at y/n’s words that the black cat pawed at his chest to regain the italian’s attention.

“so you think we could work well together?” kimi asked in a small voice, making sure to continue stroking brando’s head this time.

“the annoying one over there won’t leave me alone if i don’t say yes,” y/n said, nodding towards max. the dutchman let out a ‘i heard that’ from the kitchen but left the other two to their discussion. “but he’s also right. i love racing and it hurts me very deeply that i can’t do it anymore. but i also see a lot of myself in you and your letter was so sincere it’s honestly changed my whole world view. i’ve been throwing myself a pity party for three years, enough is enough - and i can’t think of a better racer to be a mentor to.”

“really?”

the smile on kimi’s face was all-consuming, his eyes crinkling and a little giggle escaping as well.

“yes. although i am also impressed you came all the way from monaco to ask me.”

max plucked brando from kimi’s lap and crashed into the armchair, “oh he came all the way from italy actually”

y/n’s head whipped back to kimi who shrugged, whispering a small ‘worth it’ under his breath. max continued,

“he messaged me on instagram - my official account so vic had to text me about ‘this kid who wants to see if you’ll go to london with him’. then he drove all the way from milan to monaco and then we took air max here. he’s a very dedicated one you got there”

“you drove from milan to monaco? do you even have a road licence?”

kimi went to interject but y/n kept going, “it’s so early, when did you drive? you didn’t drive overnight did you?” the silence was answer enough.

“that is so not good for you kimi! right,” y/n stood up, dragging kimi with her, “i don’t have the spare room set up yet so you’ll have to deal with my bed. i have some of max’s clothes here that you can borrow but i order you to go take a nap and in a couple of hours i’ll take you both to lunch.”

kimi followed y/n like a little duckling to her room, hearing max in the background grumble about how he never gets offered a bed for a nap. y/n grabbed some clothes from her bottom draw and handed them to kimi.

“sorry they’re red bull branded, that loser doesn’t wear anything else, we just won’t tell toto will we?”

kimi let out another giggle, heading towards the en suite room to change. at the door he turned to y/n who was plumping the pillows and making the bed.

“thank you for taking a chance on me. i promise i’ll make it worth it.”

“don’t worry kimi. i think we’ll be great together. get a couple hours of sleep and we’ll get some food.”

y/n moved towards the door and gave kimi a soft smile as she closed it. the italian felt an even bigger smile break out on his face and allowed himself to let out a girlish squeal - he just had to text ollie about this.

back in the living room both max and brando had moved to the bigger couch and stared at y/n with knowing eyes.

“what?”

“nothing. just by my calculations it took you a whole two minutes to crumble and start the mother duck act.”

“so you don’t want me to come back?”

y/n poked, max sighed.

“you know that’s not what i mean. but it’s cute, it suits you.”

“shut up,” y/n said, fighting off a blush, “do you want to watch some tv while the little one sleeps?”

max yanked the remote from y/n’s hand and patted the seat. it was just like old times, nearly.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

maxverstappen1

liked by olliebearman, isackhadjar and 803,899 others

maxverstappen1: when in rome

view all comments

user1: you’re not fooling me buster

user2: the way this is defo vic being told to create a diversion

user3: sorry to break it to the gal she’s not doing her best

victoriaverstappen: keep me out of this one

landonorris: rome you say

maxverstappen1: that’s what the caption says does it not

maxverstappen1: can you not send me twitter links you know i do not have the abomination that is that app on my phone

user4: so you haven’t seen all the f1 yuri ??? you’re missing out

maxverstappen1: what is yuri?

maxverstappen1: i’ll google it one sec

landonorris: can we get back to my original point please?

maxverstappen1: manners lando!

landonorris: they butted into our conversation ???

landonorris: you’re not in rome so stop lying

maxverstappen1: you’re right 😟

maxverstappen1: i’m in monaco!

landonorris: YOU’RE IN LONDON WE ALL KNOW YOU’RE IN LONDON

maxverstappen1: nuh uh

maxverstappen1: i literally saw you on my morning run today lando

landonorris; don’t try and gaslight me bitch

landonorris: i saw the twitter account of your private jet it says you’re in the u.k. ?

maxverstappen1: that’s an invasion of privacy lando, i can’t believe you

landonorris: THEN STOP LYING

maxverstappen1: wow, big accusation buddy, you must be learning from george

user5: max will never not bring that up

user6: the way y/n and george used to be so close i wish i could’ve seen her reaction to that whole thing

user7: considering he never said anything in support of her after everything that happened… well i don’t think he would’ve gotten much support from her

user8: george russell and y/n y/ln takes a drag i haven’t heard those names together in a long time

user9: real ones know they were the OG brit ship

user10: yall just can’t let a woman exist can you

user11: lando up in the business sorry mclaren you can’t fool me

user12: i think if y/n does come back to f1 she should be allowed to shoot one man a day there

user13: i agree

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the trio are huddled around a cramped table way in the back of the quaint restaurant. both drivers are meant to be following their meal plans but have both gone for the hearty bowl of pasta recommended by y/n.

“i can’t believe my best friend is going to be back in the paddock, i love you my little italian man,” max sighs happily, ruffling kimi’s hair. “but also i don’t care if you’re going to be in the mercedes garage, i need a united front against george this season i am not letting the shit he pulled last season fly.”

kimi suddenly stopped, fork halfway to his mouth, looking at y/n alarmed.

“kimi, stop worrying, i’ve said yes, i’m not going to back out now,” y/n said, refilling the italian’s glass of water, “but i can’t guarantee i’ll be anything but just civil with george.”

“wait!” kimi yells, mouth full of pasta, “ollie and i have always wanted to know what happened between you two, if we’re allowed to know…”

y/n and max shared a look.

“i didn’t know me and george were such a hot topic with the rookies. i don’t know whether to be annoyed or not?”

“well it’s just me and ollie,” kimi slams his cutlery down and waves his hands, “one time i was wearing some of your merch after an f2 race and i was sat with toto when george came in and he took one look at my shirt and just glared at me. it was very weird but we’d never heard of anything about you two.”

“i mean we haven’t spoken in three years so i’d be impressed if there was still some gossip to go around,” y/n turned to max, “but if it’s anything like the last two races, it won’t take long to kick off again.”

max laughed to himself when y/n grabbed his hand.

“what did you say to him allegedly? that you’d put him on his head in the wall… well it sounds familiar…”

both max and kimi gasp, the younger leaning in, on the edge of his seat.

“oh boys, let me take you back to 2019…”

may 2019.

jimmyz smelt overwhelmingly of sweat. fancy sweat, but sweat nonetheless. y/n was stuck in the sea of bodies, clinging to the arm of mick schumacher and her watery vodka cranberry like her life depended on it. many hours earlier she stood proudly on the top step after winning the formula two feature race by an impressive ten seconds, her dancing partner standing second on the podium.

“i’m going to get a drink, do you want one?” mick tried to shout over the booming music. y/n waved her half-empty glass in his face and gave him a thumbs up. the german nodded and turned, starting his fight to get to the bar.

now alone, y/n let the atmosphere of the club and her earlier victory wash over her. yes, she was doing the typical white girl club dance but she’d earned that right on the track. y/n was lost in the music when mick finally returned, balancing his drink, two tequila shots, two limes and a packet of salt.

“i told you i didn’t need a drink, silly,” y/n yelled in his ear.

“the barman told me podium sitters had to have a tequila shot, jimmyz law?”

y/n took the shot glass from him and one of the limes. mick licked two lines on his hand and poured out the salt. she raised her eyebrow at him.

“what? we’ve done worse?”

she leaned forward and licked the salt from the german’s hand, threw back the shot and sucked on the lime. tequila shots still hadn’t gotten easier. mick beckoned her forward and whispered in her ear, “miss monaco winner, i fear we have an audience.”

y/n pulled back and looked around jimmyz. lewis hamilton was nearby, taking off his comically wet shirt for a captive audience after daniel had insisted on emptying another bottle of champagne on the brit. sebastian vettel had dragged an unwilling charles to jimmyz, who despite the thunder in his eyes, tried to dance along with his teammate. the trio of rookie brits were all off to the side, both lando and alex were trying their luck with the many girls alongside them in the vip booth but george stood alone. he was glaring, y/n thought it was at her but on a closer look, george was attempting to murder mick with his eyes.

“well doesn’t he look like a ray of sunshine,” comments mick, spinning her around again. “i should probably go check on him, that williams was as shit as ever today, he doesn’t take losing very well.”

y/n thinks she hears mick mutter a little ‘he should get used to it’ but elects to ignore it. she lets him spin her once more before making her way over to the booth.

“penny for your thoughts mr russell,” y/n asked, dragging him to sit down in the booth with her. george sits down but puts some healthy room between them and looks around, paranoid.

“leaving room for jesus, georgie? don’t worry, i won’t tell if you don’t?”

y/n laughs at her own joke but george looks less than impressed. y/n face falls as she takes a long sip.

“hey, i know today was tough but you don’t have to take it out on me i’m just trying to talk to you.”

george grumbles something under his breath. y/n looks at him, asking him to repeat himself. george looks out onto the dancefloor, not replying.

“you clearly have a problem, can you spit it out or i can just go back to mick.”

“i’m sure you’d love that”

“excuse me?”

george scoffs and goes to stand up. y/n gets up just as fast, a little unstable on the heels she thought she could handle for just one night out.

“i said i’m sure you’d love to go back out there and rub all over mr nepotism out there,” george shouted spitefully.

“i’m allowed to dance with my friends george. i don’t see what the problem is here.”

george wipes his face in frustration, “that’s the issue - you don’t think. what if people were allowed to film in here. a video of you like that, licking his hand like that - imagine what they would say?”

“i don’t have to imagine when you seem more than happy to say it yourself george.”

“i’m trying to be a good friend, clearly someone has to think of these things if you won’t”

y/n laughs bitterly, “my knight in shining armour, thank you for taking time out of your day to metaphorically slutshame me so i don’t have to.”

george groans and slams his drink down onto the table.

“mick is not just a friend, he is a competitor. there’s a difference. people will say things - that you’re sleeping with him to get an advantage, that you’re using him and his name to get a seat in formula one,” george said, exasperated.

“or is that just what you think?” y/n said, looking up at george with tears in her eyes.

“no! of course not, but people will say that y/n you have to be careful.”

y/n’s tears turned to hot, angry tears, the tequila shot pushing her to say the things she would usually push down.

“let them. if what you say is true, they’ll say it even if it’s not true. who cares? what do you expect me to do when i make it to formula one? take a vow of celibacy and not leave my hotel room every weekend?”

“i’m not saying i agree with it but this is how the sport is right now unfortunately. your image will matter so much more,” george said, trying to grab her hand but y/n yanked it away from him.

“george, people will call me a slut no matter what i do - i’m not going to let it stop me from celebrating when i want to, when i deserve to,” y/n hissed, she’d had quite enough of this conversation, this is not what a monaco winner does to celebrate.

“they won’t respect you if they see you like this,” george pointed to her dress, a short black number that showed off her legs but had a high neck, “they definitely won’t respect you if they see you dancing like that with mick or licking his hand.”

y/n’s head was hot, she needed george out of her sight or this could get ugly. “it sounds like i’ve already lost your respect, or did i even have it to begin with?” george protests, but y/n kept going.

“why do you really want to keep me at home? do you want to have me all to yourself, is that why mick is bothering you so much? or can you not stand the fact that i might beat you next year? a girl you deem a slut might be faster than you? might get a better seat than you faster? i might be a girl and you might think in some fucked up way that you have dibs on me because you’ve known me so long but let it be known, you try and pull anything with me on track and i’ll put you on your fucking head in the wall.”

y/n turned on her heel and stormed out of jimmyz.

present.

“oh shit.”

max whispered while kimi sat with his mouth open, struggling for words.

“we were young there,” y/n goes to explain, “but he ruined that monaco win for me. i think in a weird way he was trying to help but it came out wrong.”

the waitress had come to start clearing away the table and kimi was still gaping like a fish.

“that was so much worse than i was expecting. am i still allowed to tell ollie, i promise he won’t tell.”

y/n chuckled, “you can tell who you want, kimi, i don’t really care. it’s a fun tidbit, maybe if he pulls a fast one again with either of you it’ll be a cute ted’s notebook segment.”

“now that would make the sky prices worth it.”

GQ Man of the Year Red Carpet Live Updates

excerpt of red carpet interview between Y/N Y/LN and interviewer

interviewer: hi y/n! wow you look beautiful tonight!

y/n: thank you so much, you look amazing too!

interviewer: oh! you’ve got me blushing…

y/n: that’s my job!

interviewer: it’s amazing to see you, this is your first public appearance in over three years, we’ve missed you!

y/n: i know, i was nervous for tonight, i thought maybe i’d be on the red carpet and everyone would’ve forgotten who i am…

interviewer: we could never forget you

y/n: that’s too sweet

interviewer: especially when you’re turning looks like these

y/n: i know, three years of religiously wearing sweat pants, i knew i had to dress to impress

interviewer: don’t leave us for the sweat pants for that long i beg

y/n: i think you’ll see me out and about more often don’t worry

interviewer: is that a hint

y/n: it can be… as much as i would love to give you the exclusive darling, i have a contract i have to abide by

interviewer: very intriguing… well thank you for stopping and talking with us tonight

y/n: no worries! i’ll see you around

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

the apartment was quiet when y/n returned from the GQ Man of the Year event, max and kimi had only been there for a couple hours the day before, but already the apartment seemed scarily empty. brando slinked up to y/n brushing against the expensive fabric, meowing for food as if y/n hadn’t gotten the notification for his automatic feeder.

“oh stop being so loud, baby,” y/n slumped down on the couch, kicking off her heels, “i might order some food and give you some scraps if you’re nice to me.”

the back of the dress was too complicated to tackle on an empty stomach so y/n resigned to eating cheap takeout in her designer dress. the chicken shop was embarrassingly frequent in her recent orders but she purchased her usual order anyway, not like she had a diet like the others anymore.

after just five minutes of scrolling through twitter, seeing her fans having a meltdown did bring a smile to her face, the bell went. her usual chicken shop was good, but not that good. however, in a good mood, y/n swung the door open with a smile.

“oh. you’re not my chicken shop order.’

“no. i’m not. but you are a mercedes mentor now?” lewis hamilton said with a tenacious smile.

“i’m kimi’s mentor,” y/n reminded him quickly, opening the door enough for him to enter.

“quite a get up you’re in,” lewis said, “quite a way to annouce your return.”

y/n poured a glass of water for him, “technically sky announced my return. you sad you missed me at mercedes?”

lewis smirked and moved around the kitchen counter. he leaned in and whispered in her ear, “what could you teach me?”. the air was thick with tension and the room was suddenly a lot hotter, y/n didn’t know where to look or how to reply. as she stood there, just inches away from lewis with her mouth open, ready to reply, the bell went again.

“that’ll be the front desk with my food,” y/n choked out, moving back towards the door and taking in a deep breath. she took the food from the concierge and slips him some money as a thank you.

y/n placed the order on the counter and flicked her eyes back over to lewis. “i’d say we could share, but this is definitely not vegan. was there a reason you came? i didn’t even think you had my address?”

the smirk again. “i can’t just want to come and see you? in his excitement max was very loose-lipped, but i can’t say i’m too angry about it. i would’ve preferred if you had trusted me with it from the start…”

“no one had my address,” y/n replied.

“max did.”

“max is different”

“how so?”

“he just is, okay? i didn’t think anyone would want anything to do with me after the crash. i just wanted to wallow in peace”

“please don’t assume how i feel about you again,” lewis finished his water and moved towards the door, “i’ll leave you to your food, don’t be a stranger in the paddock.”

lewis picked up her hand and gave it a quick kiss and left as fast as he came.

what the fuck. the door shut and y/n was floored. what just happened?

whatever it was, it would have to wait until after she had eaten to be processed. while plating her food, y/n picked up her phone and opened her text thread with max.

i’m serious dude, stop giving people my address.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

fin.

note: oh wow so this series blew up - i'm serious i got such an influx in followers i'm so glad you guys are enjoying it! some new players have entered but you'll just have to keep guessing! one warning, i do go back to work thursday so updates will slow but one of my new years resolutions was to write more anyway!

taglist: @folkloresreputation @hc-dutch @shimmermotorsport @96mcobo @eclipsedcherry @formulaal @czennieszn @gothicwidowsworld @emily-b @suns3treading @henna006 @kazgirl20 @anotherapollokid @littlegrapejuice @daemyratwst @annimausi @yawn-zi @lulu-1998

[tempobaekh]

Jacked and kind super soldier

Pairings: bucky barnes x civilian!f!reader

Warnings: FLUFFF, cutie, bucky being jacked and kind, maybe ooc bucky?

A/N: this trend is the cutest this everrrr. i HAD to write it for my fav super soldier. i also read a rafe cameron one somewhere a bit ago and got inspired by that lol. also I KNOW THAT IS THE HYDRA ARM IN THE PICTURE i just needed a picture of his metal arm kinda flexing.

The weekend was your sanctuary—a blissful retreat where the rest of the world melted away, leaving just you and Bucky in the warm cocoon of your apartment. The soft hum of the shower from the bathroom filled the air as you lounged on the couch, your phone in hand, scrolling through TikTok aimlessly. Alpine was curled up on the armrest, purring softly as if she, too, reveled in the peace.

As you swiped through your feed, a familiar trend popped up—a montage of strong men lifting their girlfriends effortlessly while Sabrina Carpenter’s “Slim Pickins” played in the background. The lyrics floated through your mind: “A boy who’s jacked and kind…”

Each video showed the guy flashing a proud smile, flexing an arm while the girl laughed, clearly enamored by the display of strength. A wistful sigh escaped your lips. The trend wasn’t new; you’d seen it countless times but never mustered the courage to ask Bucky to try it.

Bucky was still adjusting to modern life, often overwhelmed by the ever-changing whirlwind of social media and trends. While he was always a good sport about trying new things, you were careful not to overwhelm him, only occasionally roping him into your TikTok antics. Even then, you had maybe two or three TikToks of you both on your account.

But this trend? This trend stirred a little thrill in you. You couldn’t help but wonder—how would it feel to be hoisted onto his shoulder, his strength so effortless it was almost unfair? Would he smile that soft, proud smile you loved so much? Would he flex just to humor you?

Your lips twisted thoughtfully. Could you even ask? Would he think it was silly?

“Just ask,” you mutter to yourself, biting your lip as you stare at the video again. The sound of the shower shutting off jolts you out of your thoughts. Moments later, Bucky steps out into the living room, his dark hair damp and tousled, a gray t-shirt clinging to his broad chest. Alpine immediately perks up, trotting over to greet him.

“Hey, doll,” he says with a warm smile, rubbing a towel through his hair. “What’re you up to?”

You stand, heart thudding slightly as you approach him. “Buck, can I ask you for a favor?”

His brows furrow slightly, curiosity flickering in his stormy blue eyes. “Of course. What’s up?”

“Well...” you start, clutching your phone like it’s a lifeline. “There’s this trend on TikTok I’ve seen a lot. It’s harmless, I swear! But it involves... you lifting me. For a video.”

Bucky tilts his head, his expression a mix of amusement and confusion. “Lifting you? Like how?”

You quickly explain, pulling up the video and showing him. As he watches, you can see the flicker of understanding cross his face, followed by a soft chuckle.

“So, you want me to do that?” he asks, a teasing grin tugging at his lips.

“Yes,” you say with an embarrassed laugh, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “But only if you’re okay with it!”

He pauses for a moment, then shrugs. “Why not? Seems harmless enough. And if it makes you happy...”

Your face lights up, and you throw your arms around him. “Thank you, Buck!"

Setting your phone up on the coffee table, you adjust the camera angle until both of you are perfectly framed. The familiar 10-second countdown begins, and you quickly fluff your hair, glancing back at Bucky, who’s standing behind you with an easy smile.

“Ready?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Ready when you are, doll.”

The countdown hits zero, and the familiar opening notes of “Slim Pickins” filled the room. Before you can even do a little jump to help him, Bucky’s large hands—one warm, the other cool and firm—grip your waist. In one effortless motion, he hoists you onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing, his flesh arm supporting you.

“Bucky!” you gasped, laughing as you suddenly found yourself perched on his shoulder, your legs dangling. You clung to his shirt instinctively, though you knew he’d never let you fall.

He looked up at you with that soft, proud smile you adored.

Then, to your utter delight, he glances at the camera and flexes his metal arm, the vibranium glinting under the soft light. You giggle uncontrollably, your cheeks aching from the sheer happiness coursing through you.

When the music ends, he gently sets you down, his hands lingering at your waist as he looks at you with a soft smile. “How’d I do?”

“Amazing,” you say breathlessly, darting over to grab your phone and watch the video. The grin on your face only widens as you replay it.

Bucky walks over and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You’re cute when you’re excited, you know that?”

“Thank you for doing this,” you say, leaning back into his warmth.

“Anything for you, doll,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Later, as you upload the video, the comments start pouring in, and each one makes you laugh harder.

Each comment had you laughing harder, while Bucky groaned in mock exasperation. “What is wrong with people?” he muttered, though the pink tint to his ears betrayed his embarrassment.

“Oh, c’mon,” you teased, nudging him playfully. “You’re the internet’s new heartthrob. Own it.”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “As long as you’re happy, doll.”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek. “Always. Thank you for indulging me.”

“Like I said, anything for you,” he said softly, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You snuggle closer to him, your heart full as he pulls you against his chest. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving just the two of you and the easy comfort of being together.

Note: gifs, pictures, and header DOES NOT belong to me. CREDITS TO THE RIGHTFUL OWNERS!! Feedback and reblog is appreciated.<3

[floralcyanide]

ᴡɪɴᴇ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋ — ᴄɪʟʟɪᴀɴ ᴍᴜʀᴘʜʏ

cillian murphy x fem!reader (nsfw)

you and your best friend Cillian get wine drunk to celebrate his new role.

✣ warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol, drinking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, nipple play, female anatomy described, no prep, (not proof-read at all sorry oops)

✣ word count: 1.5k

✣ author’s note: this is short and sweet and I wrote a quarter of it like a year and a half ago and wanted to finish it when I stumbled upon it in my docs. I hope yall enjoy and happy new year (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

You always told yourself you’d never go after someone who didn’t want you fully. They had to want your everything, love your everything, and show it. Yet here you are, in your best friend’s bed, wondering what the hell you’ve gotten yourself into. And wondering whether or not this was just a one-night type of thing. Even if it is, everything about your friendship has definitely changed. 

It started as a typical night at Cillian’s, sharing a bottle of wine and discussing roles he wanted to play this coming year. He already snagged a role as Johnathan Crane in the upcoming Batman movie, and you were beyond proud of him. But with the dim lights, candles lit, and the wine warming the two of you up, there was an undeniable tension in the room. A tension that had been building for a while and was now spilling into the night. Cillian was sitting across from you on the couch, leg crossed over the other. You were curled up, knees to your chest, as you sipped your wine. He stared at you, his gaze unwavering. You stared back, searching his eyes for an inkling of his thoughts. Warmth spread through your limbs and across your face as his eyes darkened. 

“What’s on your mind, love?” Cillian asked, his voice slightly raspy.

You cleared your throat, biting your lip and keeping eye contact, “You.”

“Really?” Cillian hummed, “What about me?”

You unravel your arms and legs, crawling over to where he was sitting, “Just you.”

Cillian pushed his hair from his face, looking you up and down with drowsy eyes.

“Gonna keep it a secret, huh?” Cillian chuckled, reaching a hand out to touch your hair.

You watched as he twirled it around his finger, “Maybe,” you looked back up at him, “What’s on your mind?”

“You,” Cillian blinked at you, “But I’m not gonna hide it.”

You inhaled sharply through your nose before groaning and covering your face with your hands, “Don’t do this to me.”

“Do what to you?” Cillian asked, pulling your hands away from your face.

“Tease me,” you huffed, “What are you getting at here?”

“Maybe it’s the wine talking or the fact you look absolutely perfect right now,” Cillian said, keeping your hands in his as he stroked your knuckles with his thumb, “But I need you.”

You froze, “Need?”

Cillian looked down, laughing, before he set his eyes back on you, “Yes. I fucking need you, darling.”

You needed him to spell it out for you. So, you looked at him, puzzled. Cillian’s hands moved to your hips, pulling you onto his lap. 

“So,” Cillian massaged your skin through your comfy pants, “What about me were you thinking of?”

“How proud I am of you and how good you look in these sweatpants,” you blushed.

Your mind was swimming from the wine, and you knew you were treading in dangerous waters by being so outrightly flirty with your best friend. But you no longer cared because he was now flirty with you, too.

“Ah,” Cillian smiled, “I knew there was something naughty floating around up here,” he carded his fingers through your hair, scratching at your scalp playfully.

“And how did you know, exactly?” you wondered out loud.

“I see how you look at me,” Cillian whispered, pulling his hands from your hair and putting them back on your hips, “With a burning desire.”

You gulp nervously. Was it that obvious?

“Is that so?” you quirk an eyebrow, your shaky voice shrouding any faux confidence you were displaying.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Cillian leans into the side of your head, his lips brushing your ear as he presses his hips into your core; the feeling of him hardening underneath you makes your skin prickle, “I feel the same way about you.”

“Really?” your voice cracks, and you inwardly wince at your nervousness.

“Really,” Cillian replies, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, his tongue gliding down until he reaches your lobe, gently nibbling on the flesh.

Your hands that were by your side, afraid they’d shake, slowly wrapped around Cillian’s neck. He travels down your neck, leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses as he occasionally licks your skin, relishing in your scent and taste. You give your hips an experimental swivel, and Cillian groans into your neck as he grows harder against your clothed core. He begins to toy with the hem of your shirt, sliding his hands underneath the fabric to feel your warm skin.

You wordlessly remove your shirt, tossing it to the floor. Cillian tries his best to keep his eyes glued to yours instead of letting them roam your body. But when you let your hands wander behind your back to unclasp your bra, Cillian fails at his task. His palms move from your sides to your bare breasts, his thumbs brushing against your nipples, causing them to harden. You moan quietly at the feeling, and he repeats the action. Cillian squeezes your breasts as he toys with them, your back arching in pleasure. Before you can react, Cillian latches his warm mouth onto one of your nipples, provoking you to let out a whimper as he laps at the bud with his tongue. 

Without much thought, you grind down on him. This elicits a moan from Cillian, causing a vibration against your delicate skin. While his mouth is on one nipple, his fingers play with the other, and every few seconds, he’ll switch which one is rolled by his teeth. Your hands find Cillian’s hair, but only for a moment. He tugs at your pants, and you slide off his lap to remove them in haste. While you do so, Cillian slips off his shirt and sweatpants, and you can’t help but notice the bulge in his underwear. It’s been a while since your last sexual endeavor, and you hope he can fit inside you.

Cillian pulls you back onto his lap, and the thin fabric of your underwear is the only barrier between him and you. You put your hands on his chest as you bare down on his cock, bucking your hips back and forth. Cillian grips your hips softly as he guides you along him, his eyes cloudy with lust as he stares into yours, also clouded with desire. Cillian halts your movements. If you keep going, he’s going to cum in his underwear. You hover over him as he pulls down his last item of clothing, and you hurriedly shimmy yours off as well. Resuming your previous position, you grind your clit against Cillian’s hardened cock, feeling yourself grow wetter. Cillian bites his lip as he watches you pleasure yourself on him.

It doesn’t last long, however. Cillian pulls you up so he can place his tip against your entrance.

“Is this good?” he asks, his fingernails tracing shapes on your hips.

“This is great,” you smile, placing your hand on the back of his neck, “I want this.”

Cillian presses his fingertips into the flesh on your thighs as he pushes himself into you slowly. You sigh as the feeling of fullness burns delightfully until he’s fully seated inside you. You bite your lip as you adjust to Cillian’s girth. It’s everything you had hoped for in your imagination.

“You’re so tight,” Cillian groans, his head leaning back on the top of the couch, but his eyes are still level with yours, “Feels so good.”

You wiggle your hips to move him further into you, and you both moan at the feeling. Cillian pulls out slightly before pushing back in, gaining a rhythm as your wet cunt welcomes him, his length moving in and out of you with ease. You move your body along with his, grinding your hips on his as you fuck. Your head is nothing but lustful mush from the wine and the feeling of Cillian dragging inside you. Cillian isn’t far off, his brain buzzing from the alcohol and how you clench around him with every thrust.

Cillian grasps your breasts as you begin bouncing on his cock, your heavy breathing and moans making him desperate to cum inside you. He has always wondered how it would feel to fill you up with his cum, whether it be your cunt or your mouth. Soon, he won’t have to wonder. 

“I’m gonna cum, Cill,” you whine, your hips stuttering from the exertion.

“Gonna cum on my cock, doll?” Cillian groans, driving his length into you even faster, “Want me to cum inside? Hmm?”

“Yes,” you whimper without missing a beat, “Please cum in me, I want you to fill me up,”

“Good girl,” Cillian sighs, feeling himself grown closer to his orgasm.

You cum a lot quicker than expected, thanks to Cillian’s praise. You tremble as you fuck yourself on his cock until your body goes limp. You allow Cillian to continue, purposefully clenching around him to spur him on.

“Fuck,” Cillian curses, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, Cillian,” you purr, bouncing your overstimulated cunt along his throbbing cock.

With one final thrust, Cillian spills into you with a gasp. You’re both sweaty, out of breath, and high with bliss. You can’t help but laugh.

“What?” Cillian’s face breaks into a smile, “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you shake your head, “I just wasn’t expecting this to happen tonight, is all. I’m glad it did, though.”

Cillian moves your hair out of your face, “Me too.”

[cherryxbooo]

You’re my heart, my home

Summary: When a girl joins Mason’s friend group and begins vying for his attention, his girlfriend feels sidelined in their relationship. After a painful fallout, Mason realizes his mistakes and tries to fight for his relationship.

Reader x Mason Mount

Genre: fluff/angst

Being with Mason for the last two years has been nothing short of a dream.

Sure, we had our ups and downs, but we always found our way back to each other.

He’s the clingy, romantic type, always finding a way to hold my hand, cuddle me, or just sit close.

I loved that about him, even when his friends teased him for being so attached.

Their jokes didn’t bother him, though. He’d just laugh it off and kiss me on the forehead, completely unapologetic.

Tonight, we were out at a party with his group of friends.

Everyone was in high spirits, including me.

It was one of those rare nights where I wasn’t buried in work, and Mason wasn’t tied up with training.

The atmosphere was lively, and I was having a blast mingling with the other girls while Mason hung out with the guys.

But then, I noticed her.

A girl I didn’t recognize was lingering around Mason’s group. She wasn’t one of the girlfriends, that much was obvious.

She was beautiful, sure, but there was something about the way she hovered near Mason that made my stomach twist.

I leaned over to Sarah, one of the girlfriends I’d become close with, and whispered, “Hey, do you know who that girl is?”

Sarah frowned, glancing in the direction I was looking.

“No clue. But if I were you, I’d keep an eye on her. Something about her screams trouble.”

I nodded, silently agreeing. The rest of the evening, I couldn’t help but notice how she kept talking to Mason or pulling him along somewhere.

He didn’t seem to mind, he was always polite to a fault, but it didn’t sit right with me.

Hours passed, and I hadn’t seen much of Mason. It was unusual; normally, he’d stick to me like glue at these kinds of events.

Finally, I saw him weaving through the crowd toward me, his familiar grin lighting up his face.

“There you are,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I’ve missed you.”

I smiled, leaning into his embrace.

“I thought you forgot about me.”

“Never,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

We stood there for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence, before the girl appeared again.

She didn’t even acknowledge me at first, her focus entirely on Mason.

“Oh, Mason! There you are,” she said, her tone dripping with sweetness that made my skin crawl.

Mason, ever polite, introduced us. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend.”

Her eyes flickered with something, was it disdain? Jealousy? Before she forced a smile.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I replied, though I didn’t mean it.

She didn’t waste time pulling Mason away again, leaving me standing there alone.

I tried to brush it off, but the knot in my stomach tightened.

Later that night,

The sound of laughter and the soft hum of music filled the air as the party began to wind down.

I had spent most of the night with the girlfriends of Mason’s friends, chatting and laughing about everything under the sun.

But as the hours ticked by, my mood shifted.

Mason had been absent for most of the evening, floating between his group of friends and, more noticeably, that girl.

I’d caught glimpses of her tugging on his arm, whispering something to him with a sly smile, and each time, my stomach twisted a little tighter.

By the time Mason finally found me, I was nursing the last sips of a drink I barely tasted.

His smile, that usual bright and boyish grin that I loved so much, faltered the moment he saw my expression.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, his hands sliding around my waist.

“You’ve been hiding from me all night.”

I scoffed, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

“Funny, I thought it was the other way around.”

His brow furrowed, confusion etched into his features. “What do you mean?”

I shook my head, not wanting to cause a scene here. “Let’s just go home.”

The car ride was silent at first, the only sound the low hum of the engine as the city lights streaked past the windows.

Mason reached over, his hand finding its usual spot on my thigh, but tonight, it didn’t bring the comfort it usually did.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, breaking the silence.

His voice was gentle but tinged with concern.

I hesitated, my fingers twisting the hem of my dress. Finally, I spoke, my voice quieter than I intended.

“That girl… She’s been clinging to you all night. It didn’t sit right with me.”

His eyes darted from the road to me, genuine surprise flashing across his face.

“Wait, what? I didn’t even notice. She was just… talking. That’s all.”

“That’s not all, Mason,” I said, my voice trembling.

“You didn’t see the way she was looking at you, or the way she kept finding excuses to pull you aside. And you didn’t see the way everyone else was noticing it, too.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he pulled into our driveway.

“Y/N, I swear, I didn’t mean to make you feel this way. She doesn’t mean anything to me, love. I’m sorry if I didn’t realize it sooner.”

His apology was earnest, his eyes searching mine as he reached for my hand.

And though the knot in my chest hadn’t completely unraveled, I nodded, letting him lead me inside.

Mason made it his mission to reassure me that night, wrapping me in his arms and whispering soft apologies until I finally let myself relax against him.

The days seemed to blend into one long, monotonous routine.

My office job had me tethered to my desk for hours on end, the fluorescent lights of my workspace burning into my skin.

The deadlines felt endless, the meetings never-ending.

By the time I dragged myself home each evening, exhaustion was my only companion.

Mason, too, was caught in the whirlwind of his demanding football schedule: training, travel, matches, and media obligations filling his calendar.

Our moments together became fleeting. In the mornings, he would kiss my forehead as I groggily clung to the last few minutes of sleep before facing my own hectic day.

At night, we exchanged tired "goodnights" before collapsing into bed, too drained to have a real conversation.

It was like we were ships passing in the night, brushing past each other but never truly docking.

One Friday evening, I found myself with an unfamiliar luxury: a free night.

No emails to check, no looming deadlines, just peace.

The thought of spending the evening with Mason filled me with excitement.

I hadn’t had a moment to truly connect with him in weeks, and I missed him desperately.

I decided to text him: "Hey, how about a cozy night in? Just us. I’ll cook dinner, and we can watch a movie or something. I miss you. ❤️"

The little "delivered" icon appeared, and I waited.

My mind wandered to the memories of our lazy nights together, how we’d cuddle under a blanket on the couch, my head on his chest while his fingers absentmindedly played with my hair.

I smiled at the thought, hoping tonight could be like that.

When Mason finally walked through the door, I felt a flicker of hope.

His smile was warm and familiar, and he pulled me into his arms without hesitation.

“Hey, love,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to my temple.

His cologne was comforting, wrapping around me like a favorite blanket.

I leaned into him, letting the weight of my day melt away.

“Hi,” I said softly, savoring the moment before pulling back.

“I was thinking we could have a night in tonight. Just us.”

My voice was light, but the anticipation was evident. “I miss spending time with you.”

For a moment, Mason’s smile faltered.

His hands stilled on my waist as his expression shifted, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

“I would love that,” he began, his tone apologetic,

“but… I already told the guys I’d meet them tonight.”

The spark of excitement in my chest dimmed, replaced by a sinking feeling.

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat, trying to keep my voice steady.

“And her?” I asked, not needing to say the name aloud.

Mason hesitated, guilt flashing across his face.

“Yeah,” he admitted quietly, “she’ll probably be there.”

I nodded, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes.

“Okay, have fun.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he studied me, but I stepped back before he could say more.

Mason leaned in to kiss my forehead, a gesture that once made me feel safe but now felt hollow.

“Love you,” he said softly before heading upstairs to change.

“Love you, too,” I replied automatically, though my voice lacked conviction.

As soon as he disappeared upstairs, the smile I had been holding crumbled.

I sank onto the couch, staring blankly at the flickering light of the television I hadn’t even realized I turned on.

My chest felt heavy, like a weight I couldn’t lift no matter how hard I tried.

Why couldn’t I shake this feeling? Was I overreacting? Was I being unreasonable?

But deep down, I knew the answer. This wasn’t just about tonight.

It was about the growing distance between us, about the way our once unshakable connection now felt like it was fraying at the edges.

And it was about her, the girl who seemed to have inserted herself into our lives, lingering like an unwelcome guest.

I replayed every interaction I had seen between Mason and her.

The way she laughed too hard at his jokes, the way her hand always seemed to find its way to his arm.

And worst of all, the way Mason didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t seem to mind.

When Mason came back downstairs, his smile was easy, oblivious to the storm raging in my chest.

“Don’t wait up, yeah?” he said, grabbing his keys.

I nodded, my voice failing me, and watched as he walked out the door.

The sound of it closing behind him echoed in the quiet of our home, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Over the following weeks, the pattern repeated like a cruel cycle I couldn’t escape.

Every time we had a rare opportunity to spend time together, Mason had other plans.

He would promise me he’d be home early or that we’d plan something soon, but it never happened.

And she was always there.

I tried to push my feelings aside, telling myself that Mason loved me and that I was being irrational.

But each time her name came up in conversation or I saw another picture of them together with his friends, the knot in my stomach tightened.

It all came to a head one evening when I found myself sitting alone at the dinner table.

I had made Mason’s favorite meal, hoping for once we could share an evening like we used to.

I even lit candles, trying to recreate the warmth that felt so distant now.

But as the hours ticked by and my phone buzzed with a text:

“Sorry, love. Running late. Don’t wait up.”

I realized I was fooling myself.

When Mason finally came home that night, he found me curled up on the couch, pretending to be asleep.

I couldn’t face him. I couldn’t bear the guilt in his eyes or the empty promises of “I’ll make it up to you.”

The next morning it was the same again, he kissed my forehead and whispered a soft “I love you” before leaving for training.

I whispered it back, but the words felt hollow in my mouth.

The weeks that followed were marked by a growing distance between us.

Mason seemed unaware of the storm brewing inside me, while I became an expert at pretending everything was fine.

But the truth was, I felt like I was losing him, and losing myself in the process.

Every time her name came up, it was like a knife twisting in my chest.

And every time Mason chose to spend time with his friends, and her instead of me, it felt like another crack in the foundation of our relationship.

I wanted to tell him how I felt, to lay everything out and make him understand.

But every time I tried, the words caught in my throat.

What if he didn’t see it the way I did? What if I was the only one who felt this way?

Late at night, as I lay in bed next to him, I would stare at the ceiling, wondering when things had started to change.

And if they could ever go back to the way they were.

It was Sunday, the day I had been looking forward to all week.

My only day off, my sanctuary from the endless grind of work and responsibilities.

I had envisioned a lazy morning spent tangled in the sheets with Mason, the sunlight filtering through the curtains as we sipped coffee in bed.

I wanted a day to pause and just be with him, to feel like we were still us amidst the chaos of our separate lives.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen as I poured myself a mug.

I smiled to myself, thinking about how I’d surprise Mason with breakfast in bed.

He deserved a break too, after all.

When Mason wandered into the kitchen, his hair still ruffled from sleep, I felt a flicker of hope.

Maybe today would finally be the day we reconnected.

“Morning, love,” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek.

“Morning,” I replied, warmth spreading through me at the small gesture.

But the moment was fleeting.

As he reached for a glass of water, his next words hit me like a gut punch.

“I’m heading out with the guys later. And yes before you ask, she’s coming too,”

he said casually, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

I froze, my coffee mug halfway to my lips. For a moment, I thought I must have misheard him.

“What?” I asked, my voice quieter than I intended.

He glanced at me, confused by my reaction.

“I promised the lads I’d meet them for lunch. You know, a group thing.”

“And her?” I pressed, though I already knew the answer.

His hesitation spoke volumes. “Yeah, she’s part of the group now too,”

he admitted, shrugging as if it were no big deal.

The fragile peace I had been clinging to all week shattered.

My chest tightened, the air in the room suddenly feeling too thin.

“Are you serious, Mason?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“You know this is my only day off, and you’re choosing to spend it with her?”

His shoulders sagged, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

“Y/N, not this again.”

The words were a slap to the face. “Yes, this again!”

I snapped, slamming my mug onto the counter so hard I was surprised it didn’t crack.

“Do you even realize how this looks? How it feels to constantly come second to her?”

“Y/N, I don’t want to do this right now,” he said, his tone clipped, frustration evident in every word.

“Well, I do!” I shot back, my voice rising.

Mason ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I knew meant he was trying to keep his temper in check.

“You’re blowing this way out of proportion,” he said, his tone colder now.

I stared at him in disbelief. “Out of proportion? Mason, I have been patient."

"I have been understanding. But this… this is too much. You spend more time with her than you do with me!”

“That’s not true,” he said defensively, his voice rising to match mine.

“Yes, it is! And the worst part is, you don’t even see it. Or you don’t care.”

“I care, Y/N. Of course I care,” he said, his voice softening just enough to make me falter.

But then he shook his head, his frustration bubbling back to the surface.

“But I can’t have this argument every time I go out with my friends. It’s exhausting.”

The words stung, slicing through the fragile thread of hope I had been holding onto.

My heart clenched, tears welling up in my eyes.

“If it’s so exhausting, then why are you still here?” I asked, my voice breaking.

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air.

Mason stared at me, his expression unreadable, before he grabbed his keys off the counter.

“I’m not doing this right now,” he said flatly.

And just like that, he walked out the door, leaving me standing in the kitchen with tears streaming down my face.

The sound of his car starting and pulling away echoed in my ears, each second driving the pain deeper into my chest.

I sank into a chair at the kitchen table, my head in my hands.

The tears came fast and hard, shaking my body as I sobbed into my palms.

All the frustration, the hurt, and the anger I had been holding back for weeks spilled out in that moment.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

The constant tug-of-war for his attention, the way he dismissed my feelings like they were insignificant, it was too much.

I needed space. I needed to breathe.

With trembling hands, I grabbed my phone and called my best friend.

The line barely rang before she picked up, her cheerful voice a sharp contrast to my broken one.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, her tone shifting to concern.

I tried to speak, but my words came out in choked sobs.

“He… he left. He walked out,” I managed to say between gasps for air.

“Okay, breathe,” she said firmly, her voice steady and reassuring.

“Start from the beginning. What happened?”

As I recounted the argument, her silence on the other end of the line felt like a lifeline, her presence grounding me even through the phone.

When I finished, she let out a long sigh.

“Pack a bag and come over,” she said without hesitation.

“You don’t need to be alone right now.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me, and wiped my tears with the sleeve of my sweater.

“Okay,” I whispered.

I packed an overnight bag with shaking hands, throwing in random items of clothing and my toothbrush.

As I zipped it up, I glanced around the bedroom Mason and I shared, the weight of the memories threatening to pull me under.

The bed where we used to stay up talking for hours now felt like a stranger’s, the space between us too vast to cross.

My best friend greeted me at the door with open arms, pulling me into a tight hug.

I broke down again, the dam I had been trying so hard to hold together finally bursting.

She didn’t say anything at first, just held me as I cried into her shoulder.

When I finally pulled back, she led me to the couch and handed me a mug of tea.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” she said gently. “But I’m here.”

I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.

As I sat there, sipping the tea and feeling the warmth seep into my hands, I realized how much I needed this.

Someone who understood, who wouldn’t dismiss my feelings or tell me I was overreacting.

Over the next hour, I poured my heart out to her.

I told her about the weeks of feeling like I was being pushed aside, about the constant presence of her in our lives, and about the crushing loneliness that had taken root in my chest.

“Y/N, you deserve better than this,” she said firmly when I finished.

“He loves you, I’m sure of that, but he’s not treating you the way you deserve to be treated. He needs to wake up and realize what he’s risking.”

Her words hit me hard, but they also gave me a flicker of strength. Maybe she was right.

Maybe Mason needed to see what it felt like to lose me, to truly lose me, to understand how much he was hurting me.

For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of clarity, even if it was wrapped in pain.

I wasn’t sure what would happen next, but I knew I couldn’t keep pretending everything was okay.

Something had to change.

Meanwhile at the party,

The party buzzed with energy, laughter and chatter echoing through the air as people mingled in small groups.

Normally, Mason would have been at ease here, relaxed and in his element, but tonight, everything felt off.

His friends noticed it too. Ben nudged him with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

“You alright, mate? You’ve been staring at your drink like it owes you money.”

Mason forced a chuckle, but it was hollow. “Yeah, just tired, I guess.”

Ben raised an eyebrow but didn’t push.

“Well, if you need a break from all this, let me know. I’ve got your back.”

Mason nodded, appreciating the sentiment, but his mind wasn’t on the party or even on his friends.

The argument replayed in his head like a broken record, your words cutting deeper each time he thought of them.

“Do you even realize how this looks? How it feels to constantly come second to her?”

The memory twisted in his chest, a sharp pang of regret piercing through him.

He had brushed off your concerns so many times, dismissing them as overreactions.

Now, standing in the middle of the room surrounded by people, he felt the weight of those choices crushing down on him.

And then there she was. The girl.

She approached him with her usual confident stride, her smile wide and her eyes locked on his.

Mason tensed instinctively.

He had hoped to avoid her tonight, to stick with his friends and steer clear of any more trouble, but she seemed to have other plans.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,”

she said, her voice light and teasing as she leaned in closer than necessary.

“Yeah, just tired,” he said curtly, taking a deliberate step back.

She didn’t seem to notice, or maybe she didn’t care.

Instead, she placed a hand on his arm, her touch lingering just a second too long.

“Come on, Mason. Loosen up a bit. You’re the life of the party, remember?”

Mason forced a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m good, thanks.”

But she wasn’t deterred.

Throughout the night, she kept finding excuses to be near him, brushing past him to grab a drink, laughing a little too loudly at his jokes, and slipping into conversations uninvited.

His friends started giving him knowing looks, some playful, others more pointed, as if they could sense the awkward tension building around him.

Finally, she cornered him near the back patio, away from the crowd.

Her voice was soft, almost coaxing.

“Mason, I think you know how I feel about you.”

His stomach churned.

He stepped back, creating distance between them.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, though he already knew.

She smiled, tilting her head as if to feign innocence.

“Come on, Mason. We have chemistry. You can’t deny that.”

“I have a girlfriend and you know that,” he said firmly, his voice sharp.

“She doesn’t have to know,” she said, her tone light but laced with something darker.

Mason’s jaw tightened, anger surging through him.

He couldn’t believe the audacity of her words, the way she dismissed me so casually, as if I were some obstacle to be brushed aside.

“Are you serious right now?” he snapped, his voice rising.

“You’ve known about Y/N this entire time, and you think this is okay? Do you have any idea how wrong this is?”

Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of annoyance.

“Mason, you’re overreacting—”

“Overreacting?” he cut her off, his tone ice-cold.

“No. I’m done. Stay away from me, and stay away from her.”

Without waiting for a response, Mason turned and stormed back into the house.

His heart was pounding, adrenaline coursing through him as he grabbed his jacket and left the party without a word to anyone.

The drive home was silent, save for the low hum of the engine.

Mason gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white.

The encounter played on a loop in his mind, each word she had said making his skin crawl.

But more than that, your voice echoed in his head, soft and broken from the argument.

He had been so blind, so wrapped up in trying to keep the peace and avoid confrontation, that he hadn’t seen the damage he was doing.

Every time he dismissed your concerns, every time he prioritized someone else over you, he had chipped away at the foundation of your relationship.

By the time he pulled into the driveway, his chest ached with guilt.

The house was dark and quiet when he stepped inside, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the party.

The emptiness felt suffocating, a reminder of the space between the two of you that he had allowed to grow.

He pulled out his phone and dialed your number, his hands trembling slightly as he waited for the call to connect.

It rang and rang, each passing second a punch to the gut, until it went to voicemail.

“Babe, it’s me,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I need to talk to you. Please, just call me back. I’m so sorry.”

When there was no response, he tried again. And again.

Desperation clawed at him with every unanswered call.

Finally, he scrolled to another contact and pressed call.

Your Best Friend.

Your best friend’s voice was sharp and cold when she answered.

“What do you want, Mason?”

“I need to talk to Y/N, I know she's with you.”

he said, his voice pleading.

“Please, I need to apologize. I messed up.”

“She needs space, Mason,” she said firmly.

“You’ve done enough damage already. Leave her alone.”

“But I love her,” he said, his voice breaking. “I can’t lose her.”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she might relent.

But then she sighed, her tone softening only slightly.

“If you really love her, then give her time. She needs to heal, Mason.

The line went dead, and Mason was left standing alone in the dark living room, his phone dangling limply in his hand.

He sank onto the couch, his head in his hands, as the weight of everything he had done, and everything he had lost, crashed over him like a tidal wave.

For the first time in a long while, Mason Mount felt completely and utterly helpless.

The days without Mason dragged on endlessly, each hour feeling heavier than the last.

I spent most of my time at my best friend’s place, curled up on her couch with a blanket draped over my legs.

The television played softly in the background, but I barely registered the sound.

My mind was stuck in an endless loop of memories, of Mason’s laugh, the warmth of his arms around me, the way he used to look at me as though I were the only person in the world.

But those memories were tainted now, overshadowed by the sting of betrayal.

Every time I thought about how he had prioritized her, a fresh wave of anger and sadness washed over me.

I told myself that I was done, that I deserved better, but the ache in my chest refused to go away.

“You’re overthinking again,” my best friend said, walking into the living room with two mugs of tea.

She set one down in front of me, giving me a pointed look.

I sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around myself.

“How can I not? I feel like I can’t breathe. I want to hate him, but I can’t stop missing him.”

She sat down beside me, her arm draping around my shoulders.

“It’s okay to miss him, Y/N. You loved him. But that doesn’t mean you have to forgive him, at least not until he proves he deserves it.”

Her words were comforting, but they didn’t ease the knot in my stomach.

Nights were the worst.

I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, every creak of the apartment reminding me of Mason, of the home we’d built together, of the life we’d shared.

While you were struggling to keep yourself afloat, Mason was falling apart.

His usually confident demeanor had crumbled, leaving him a shadow of the man his friends knew.

At training sessions, he was slow to react, his passes off-target, and his energy nonexistent.

“Again!” the coach barked during one drill, his voice sharp with frustration.

Mason barely heard him, his mind somewhere else entirely.

When he finally collapsed onto the sidelines after a particularly grueling run, he dropped his head into his hands, breathing heavily.

“Mason, a word,” the coach called, motioning him over.

Dragging himself to his feet, Mason trudged over, avoiding his teammate's concerned glances.

“What’s going on with you?” the coach asked, his tone softer now.

“You’re not yourself.”

Mason shook his head, unable to meet his coach’s gaze. “It’s… personal.”

The coach sighed, patting him on the shoulder.

“Sort it out, Mount. You’re too good to let this drag you down.”

After practice, Højlund cornered Mason in the locker room, his expression serious.

“Mate, this has to stop. You’re a wreck, and everyone can see it. What’s going on?”

Mason sank onto the bench, rubbing his face with both hands.

“I messed up, Rasmus ,” he admitted, his voice hoarse.

“I hurt Y/N, and now I might’ve lost her for good.”

Rasmus sat down beside him, frowning.

Rasmus has been one of Mason's closest friends on the team and that's how he got to know you.

He quickly grew a friendly connection with you.

“What did you do?”

Mason hesitated before spilling everything, the other girl, the countless times he’d brushed off Y/N’s feelings, the moment he realized just how much damage he’d done.

Rasmus listened intently, his frown deepening.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ve been trying to call her,”

Mason said, his voice cracking. “She won’t answer. Her best friend won’t even let me near her.”

“And you’re just giving up?” Rasmus asked, his tone challenging.

Mason’s head snapped up.

“Of course not! I love her, Ras. More than anything. But I don’t even know where to start.”

Rasmus patted him on the shoulder.

“You start by showing her. Words won’t mean much right now, Mason. You’ve got to prove it.”

By the end of the week, Mason couldn’t take it anymore.

With a heavy heart and a bag slung over his shoulder, he showed up at your best friend’s doorstep.

He had come every single day, trying to see you, only to be met with the door slammed in his face by your best friend.

Still, he didn’t give up. Each time, he left flowers with heartfelt notes on the doorstep.

He knew it couldn’t undo the hurt he had caused, but to him, it was the least he could do.

The crisp evening air bit at his skin as he shifted nervously from foot to foot, rehearsing what he would say.

When the door finally opened, your best friend stood there, her arms crossed and her expression icy.

“What are you doing here, Mason?”

“I need to see her,” he said, his voice trembling.

“Please. Just five minutes. If she tells me to leave, I will, but I need to talk to her.”

Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Mason thought she was going to slam the door in his face.

But then she sighed, stepping aside.

“She’s in the guest room. Down the hallway left.”

Mason nodded, swallowing hard.

“Thank you.”

As he made his way down the hall, every step felt heavier than the last.

His heart pounded in his chest, and his palms were slick with sweat.

When he reached the door, he hesitated for a moment before knocking softly.

Hearing the knock, I looked up, surprised.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw Mason standing in the doorway, his eyes glassy and filled with regret.

“Mason,” I said quietly, my voice a mix of shock and pain.

“Y/N,” he said, stepping inside hesitantly.

He closed the door behind him, leaning against it as if he needed the support.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his voice cracking.

“I’ve been an idiot, and I’ve hurt you in ways I can’t even begin to fathom.”

I didn’t respond, wrapping my arms tighter around my knees as I stared at him.

“I let someone take up space in my life that belongs to you,” he continued, his voice trembling.

“I see that now, and I hate myself for not seeing it sooner. I was so caught up in trying to be polite, in trying to avoid conflict, that I didn’t realize I was pushing you away.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, but I stayed silent, my gaze unwavering.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” Mason said, taking a cautious step closer.

“But I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t. You’re my everything. I’ll spend every single day proving that to you if you’ll let me.”

His words cracked something inside me, and a tear slipped down my cheek.

“Mason, you really hurt me,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I felt like I didn’t matter to you anymore.”

“You matter more than anything,” he said urgently, dropping to his knees in front of me.

He took my hands in his, his eyes pleading.

“You’re my heart, my home. I’ll never make you feel like this again. I swear it.”

His desperation was palpable, his sincerity undeniable.

But the pain he’d caused me was still fresh.

“What happens the next time someone tries to come between us?” I asked softly, my voice laced with doubt.

“There won’t be a next time,” he vowed.

“I’ve already cut her out of my life. She’s blocked, deleted, gone. No one will ever come before you again.”

For a long moment, I didn’t respond, letting his words sink in.

Finally, I reached out, cupping his face in my hands.

His breath hitched at the gesture, hope flickering in his eyes.

“You have one chance, Mason,” I said firmly.

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t,” he promised, his voice steady.

When he pulled me into his arms, I felt the weight of his love, his regret, and his determination.

And for the first time in days, I let myself hope.

As we stepped out of the room, Mason still holding my hand like it was his lifeline, my best friend stood in the hallway with her arms crossed.

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed but not entirely unsupportive.

“So?” she asked, her eyes darting between us.

“I’m going home,” I said softly, glancing up at Mason.

My best friend tilted her head, giving him a long, pointed look.

“You know, Mason, I’ve been Googling ways to hide a body this past week. Just in case.”

Mason’s eyes widened, and he stammered, “W-well, I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

“Me too,” she said, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

“But the shovel’s still in the trunk. So, tread carefully.”

I groaned, hiding my face in my hands. “Oh my God, stop.”

Mason chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Noted. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

As we walked out of the apartment, she called after us,

“Remember, Y/N, call me if he even looks at you wrong. I’ll be there in five minutes, shovel and all!”

I laughed at her antics but was grateful for her support and comfort.

Mason opened the car door for me, shaking his head with a grin.

“Your best friend is terrifying.”

“And don’t you forget it,” I teased, sliding into the seat.

Once he was in the driver’s seat, he reached over, lacing his fingers through mine.

“You think she’s serious about the shovel?”

I smirked.

“Dead serious.”

He groaned, laughing despite himself.

“Guess I’ll have to make sure she never needs to use it.”

As we drove away, a lightness settled over us that hadn’t been there in weeks.

It wasn’t perfect yet, but for the first time, I felt like we were on the right track, and I knew, deep down, we’d be okay.

The end

[777heavengirl]

Bags II

sirius black x f!reader ! - 1,459 words masterlist bags masterlist a/n: hello! when this is posted i will be entering my test! test day treat for you all… i did wanna take a moment to thank all of you for ur support and ur kindness, it means so much more to me than u might imagine! i also literally cant believe Bags is finished- this is lowkey such such such a cheesy ending but it made me feel warm... this isn’t the end of bags, don’t fret! i have some bonus chapters planned both pre!bags and post!bags which im excited for… love u guys lots xoxo

Being in love with Sirius Black was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you. It was hell. Moving in with him was a close second on that list.

He was charming, awfully so. With his wolfish grin that made goosebumps crawl on your skin and your legs feel like jelly. Waking up to his shirtless self making you coffee the way you liked it, his head disheveled and unruly from bed, with his hand always on your hips or your waist. Squeezing, or pulling you, rubbing circles on the soft skin, tracing shapes and words. His stupidly soft lips on your neck, small ministrations that made shivers run down your spine and giggles escape your throat. 

You thought about this, about him, as you packed your bags. The empty boxes sat in the middle of the lounge and the trunk sat half-full next to the couch. 

You would soon be walking out the door with your bags. 

You paid the small pang of sadness at the pit of your stomach no mind. It was just nostalgia after all.

You went slowly, unsticking pictures from the walls, making sure there was no sellotape residue as you filed them all into a box. It was a careful process, one that you half aided with a flick of your wand, clothes slowly floating out of your closet halfway across the apartment before folding themselves into the trunk.

Sirius thought about your face as he packed. There was not much else he could think about at this moment. The soft curves of your skin, the full of your cheeks, the way your lips glistened and swole up under the bite of his kiss. 

He thought of your laugh as he packed his bags by hand, each item of clothing being folded back in, each shirt, each pair of pants, even the singular sock without a pair. He thought of the way your hair pressed to your face as you slept, of the soft mumbles that left your mouth in the middle of the night, and the way you pressed him closer to you. He took the picture of you off his wall, the sellotape sticking to his finger as he looked at you. He flipped it around-

Darling brushing her teeth, 1st night in #717

He chuckled to himself, you had been so mad after he took this picture. Yelling at him about how disheveled you looked despite the toothpaste in your mouth. You kept laughing as he decided to take more- whilst you yelled at him. He put it up next to his bed after he got it developed. 

Sirius always thought you looked gorgeous. He smiled to himself as he finished taking off the small bit of tape on it and put it away in the box with the rest of the pictures. It would go on his new wall no matter what.

He looked around his room. The one he felt as if he had just unpacked into, his home for almost three years. The walls were bare, pictures and posters tucked away in a box for safe transportation, clothes arranged and folded into the trunk next to the couch, his helmet on the kitchen table, and both your keys on the counter. 

Soon he’d be walking out the door with his bags.

-

“Are you ready to go dollface?” Sirius finally popped out of his room, after one final sweep of the flat. The emptiness of the walls made his voice bounce, he smiled brightly. 

“Godric yes- help me up” you looked up at him from the floor, extending your hands so he could pull you up. He pulled you swiftly, in one smooth motion you were chest to chest with him. 

He pressed a kiss against your lips. Even after months of being together, months of cloying nicknames, and hours cuddled in bed. Months of practically moving into his room, waking up with his hair on your face, or with his face buried between your neck and the pillow. Even after so long, your fingertips still buzzed at his kiss, your skin still reddened at his touch, and a smile never failed to break from your lips as you laid eyes on him. 

“Are you ready too?” You asked, breaking the kiss. He let out a whispered yes, the words drowned when he reconnected your lips together. You’d never get tired of it, the way he held you steadily against him, the rush of blood to your cheeks as he playfully bit your bottom lip, the way he trailed kisses down your neck. “Should we go then? Remember we have dinner with our godson tonight-”

“There’s no rush baby-” Sirius said in between kisses. You hummed in agreement, carding your fingers through his hair. It was threatening to go past his shoulders.

“Your hair is getting longer,” you noted

“Don’t you like it?” He bit at the base of your neck and you slapped him with a laugh. He shot his head up from your throat, a naughty smile on his lips like he got caught taking a cookie out of the jar before supper. His arms pulled you impossibly closer, hearts beating against each other, his hands interlinked behind your back.

“I do,” you smiled “I just think Harry might pull it into oblivion- maybe you should put it up tonight”

“Ah yes, my cheeky little godson and his awful tendency to try to make me bald-” you let out a laugh, he couldn't help to laugh too as yours shook through his chest. “He’s on a mission that one”

“I doubt he’ll be very successful with that- you got more hair than I do” You ran your hands through his soft locks again.

“Don’t be jealous sweetheart- I’ll give you all my tips, we can share shampoos now” his face got closer again,

“Not that we weren’t already-” you said rolling your eyes, your noses slightly brushed against each other

“Ah so that's why it seemed to evaporate out of the bottle hm?” his words were soft, almost against your lips, the bow of his lip brushing against yours ever so slightly. 

“I fear so-” His hands were steady as they disconnected and roamed, fingers splayed across the small of your back. You sighed against him, a smile evident over your lips that quickly pulled at the corners of his own.

“Stop distracting me Black- we got things to do” you tore away from your boyfriend, a pout jutting out as you left his lips. “None of that- come on,” you pressed a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He groaned out an elongated fine, mocking, and silly as he let you go, hand laying a little pat over your bum. 

“Keep your hands to yourself-” he shot you a cheeky smile as he grabbed your hand to leave, his other kept a tight grip on your shared trunk. 

It was barely a blink, as the air spit you back out with a soft crackle and pop, and you stood outside the small house in Godric’s Hollow. 

“Not bad right?” You turned towards Sirius, a smile on your face as you caught him already looking at you. 

“I think the word you’re looking for is perfect doll,” Sirius scoffed, and you hummed in agreement. You couldn’t help the smile that seemed to be perpetually on your lips, he pressed a short kiss against it. 

“Here you go love-” he hung the keys from one of his fingers, the small silver dog keychain he gave you after graduation newly attached to it. 

He dropped it into the palm of your hand, lips breaking into a wide smile. 

You couldn’t help but press another kiss to his lips, chaste and giddy as you thought of your new life together. With one room to share, with one bed to sleep in, bare walls asking to be littered with pictures, books, and a tv that would probably still sit on boxes to watch shitty soaps in. A space asking to be full of your closest friends, of the people nearest to your hearts.

 You felt like a real adult, with a house of your own and the closest of friends living down the road with your godson. No jobs and fewer trips on the tube, but with a motorcycle parked out front, and English lavender still on the windowsill. Maybe you didn’t have some stuffy muggle office job, maybe you didn’t dress in crisp slacks or skirts, maybe you didn’t talk with your dad anymore, maybe you would simply spend your days with Sirius. Carefree, still young. Adults now, but somehow still stupid. Very much full of joy. 

So you went, walking through the door with your bags.

tags ; @thatlittlered @giuli-in-earth @notsolong-pause @niceonejames7 @caspiankingofnarnia @ilovejamespottersomuch @bmyva1entine @lanadelreykt @froggiedragon @stanzie @theendofthematerialgworl @featherlightfairysworld @plk-18 @coldthinghairdobakery @3sriracha @obixix

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

[fairqves]

꒰ ˗ˋ HIDDEN LOVE ! ۟ ׅ ͡ ୨ৎ ˊ˗

(🐰) ──𝓝A JAEMIN﹙ 재민 ﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ fluff ៸ secret relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kiss ៸ petnames ❞ bf! 𝒿aemin x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 0.8K ꒱ SYPNOSiS 𐙚 in which you and jaemin, secretly dating, share quiet dates at night and stolen moments, until one winter night, he proudly introduces you as his girlfriend, leaving you both flustered .ᐟ HEAVILY INSPIRED BY HIDDEN LOVE ── LiBRARY

THE CHILL OF THE CRISP WINTER AIR BITES AT YOUR CHEEKS as you tighten your scarf around you and slip your hand into jaemin’s pocket.

it’s something you’ve done a hundred times before—your hand fitting perfectly into his, warm and cozy.

the city is up with twinkling lights and the scent of freshly made hot chocolate from a nearby stand.

jaemin glances down at you, a small grin tugging at the corner of his lips. his fingers tighten around yours. “cold?” he asks, his voice soft but teasing.

you shake your head. “not when you’re with me.”

he chuckles, a deep, warm sound that makes you feel like you’re floating on clouds everytime you hear it. ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

jaemin has always been like this—quietly attentive, ridiculously charming in his own ways.

he doesn’t have to try—just being around him feels like the sunlight touching your skin after a long, snowy night.

but there’s also a secret to your relationship.

after all, jeno’s your older brother, and your brother has always been overly protective of you—if he knew you were dating his best friend, he’d most definitely lose his mind.

so, for these past months, you and jaemin have kept this relationship just between the two of you.

it’s your little secret—a hidden love that makes every moment spent together feel like a treasure.

the two of you stroll along the glowing streets, your intertwined hands swinging back and forth between you.

the world feels cozy tonight, the streetlights colouring over the snowy sidewalks. jaemin slows his pace, matching you as he glances around the street.

it’s then when you notice someone approaching from the opposite direction—a familiar figure wrapped in a thick coat and scarf.

your heart skips a beat as jaemin stiffens beside you, his grip on your hand faltering for just a moment.

“jaemin!” the boy calls out, their voice bright and cheerful. it’s one of his acquaintances—a classmate, maybe? you’re not sure, but they definitely know him well enough to stop for a conversation.

you instinctively start to pull your hand away, but jaemin holds on tight. you glance up at him, your wide eyes questioning him, but he just gives you a reassuring smile.

“hey,” jaemin greets casually as the person comes to a stop in front of you. his tone is relaxed, but you can feel the subtle tension in his posture.

for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to make up an excuse or pretend you’re just a random friend. it wouldn’t be the first time.

but then, to your surprise, he shifts closer to you, his hand still firmly holding yours. “this is my girlfriend,” he says, his voice steady and confident.

your heart skips a beat. girlfriend. the word feels like a burst of fireworks in your chest, warm and bright.

the other person’s eyes widen slightly, but they quickly recover, offering you a polite smile and a nod.

“oh! nice to meet you,” they say, clearly caught off guard but polite nonetheless.

you manage a small, shy smile and a quiet “nice to meet you too,” but most of your focus is on jaemin.

his hand, his words, the way he’s standing so close to you—it all feels like a fever dream.

the conversation is brief, just a few pleasantries exchanged before the person waves goodbye and continues down the street. you watch them walk away, your mind still reeling from what just happened.

jaemin turns to you, his expression unreadable as he glances down at you. “are you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern at your blank expression.

you don’t answer—not with words, at least. instead, you stand up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing a quick, soft kiss to his lips.

it’s quick but full of warmth, a burst of affection you can’t hold back any longer.

when you pull away, jaemin is staring at you, his eyes wide and his cheeks dusted with pink. “w-what was that for?” he stammers, his usual confident composure completely shattered.

you grin, your heart swelling at how flustered he looks. “i’m your girlfriend,” you say simply, your tone playful. “so i can kiss you whenever i want, right?”

jaemin blinks at you, his lips parting as if to argue, but then he lets out a quiet laugh. he rubs the back of his neck, his free hand still holding yours.

“i guess you can,” he whispers , his voice tinged with amusement and shyness at your sudden demeanor. you beam up at him—for so long, you’ve been hiding your relationship, keeping it tucked away like a fragile secret.

but now, with jaemin calling you his girlfriend out loud, it feels like you’re finally stepping out into the light.

he tugs you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as the two of you start walking again.

the night feels warmer now, the cold air no match for the happiness bubbling inside you.

and as you lean into jaemin’s side, you can’t help but think that this—being with him, holding his hand, hearing him call you his girlfriend—is the best feeling in the world.

© FAIRQVES 2025 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. jaemin being duan jiaxu just makes so much sense to me. neways can u tell i’m in my active era.. (for nct cuz fhe brainrot is so real) haechan ur next bae 😜🫰

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[fear-is-truth]

𝓻. cameron x reader whose love language is act of service

your boyfriend walked into the living room, towel slung over his shoulder, still damp from his shower. his hair stuck up in that stupid way it always did when he tried towel-drying it instead of using a dryer. you glanced up from your place on the couch, where you were seated cross-legged with your phone precariously balanced on one knee.

“you’ve got… that thing again,” you said, waving vaguely at your head. rafe frowned. “what thing?”

“the little chicken tuft. it’s like a baby bird trying to take off.” rafe let out a long-suffering sigh, rubbing a hand through his hair, which only made it worse. “better?”

“much worse. it’s got a mind of its own now. i fear we may need professional help.” you replied solemnly, setting your phone down and scooting to the edge of the couch.

“i wonder. do you even like me?” though his lips twitched at the corners. you grinned, pushing up to stand on the seats. “mmm. jury’s out. but i’m trying to save your dignity here,” before he could protest, your fingers were threading through his damp hair, smoothing the wayward strands into place. he tilted his head slightly, eyes dropping to yours as you worked with an unnecessary level of focus.

“you don’t have to take this so seriously, y’know,”

“do you wanna look like a pigeon mid-molt? no? then hold still.” he huffed out a laugh, hands settling on your hips as you finished. “there. handsome as ever,” you declared, stepping back and wiping your hands on your thighs.

“that’s all you needed me for? to restore my dignity?”

“partly,” you admitted, smiling, before pointing to the coffee table. “also, that stupid jar of salsa won’t open.” he just shook his head, reaching for the jar and twisting it open with ease. “wow. look at you, big strong man,” you admired the way his biceps flexed. “does it feel good to know you’re way stronger than me?”

“immensely.” handing it back, he added, “do you even try before calling me in for this kind of stuff?”

“i loosened it,” you chirped, setting the jar down and flopping back onto the couch. “c’mere, i need to show you something that’s going to change your life.”

“oh, for fucks sake,” rafe groaned, but still sat beside you, his shoulder brushing yours.

“it’s about otters holding hands while they sleep so they don’t float apart,” you explained, pulling up your phone.“sounds riveting,” he deadpanned, but his arm slid around your shoulders as you clicked the instagram reel.

“it is riveting,” you argued, leaning into his side. “you’re about to feel things.”

“i feel like you’re the strangest girl i’ve ever met,”

“thank you. that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you replied, resting your head against his chest. rafe sighed, somewhere between exasperated and fond, pressing a kiss to your temple as the reel played. despite his complaints, his hand traced lazy circles on your shoulder.“okay, fine,” he muttered after a while. “it’s kinda cute.”

you smiled against his chest, triumphant. “told you.”

[starscream-is-my-wife]

I am constantly rotating your documentary au in my mind it's such a fun idea. Since Ratchet has been assumed to be a teen mom, are the humans also concluding Optimus is the teen dad? Or are they thinking its a "I'm not the step dad, I'm the dad that stepped up" sort of situation? I wonder what sort of further misunderstandings are going to happen with the one sided communication and the assumptions made about our delightful trio and Cybertronians as a whole.

The town is mostly thinking that Orion is around the same age by the way he acts sometimes, even if he's a bit scary, he has a young dad goofiness to him, especally compared to Ratchets grumpyness. Although since the two humans reporting on them are biased and are also young adults, there's probably different rumors about them to other crowds

There's people who thinks Bee was the child of only one of them and the other was like, a coworker or a family friend that got caught in the crash because of how unrelated he looks to the both of them, adoption was also a possibility but Angel and Truck King havent been seen together too much, and when they are only few see it, most people haven't seen them close to each other at all

Generally, everyone thinks that Bee is Ratchets kid and whether OP is biologicaly the dad is in the air, due to Bee and Ratchet seemingly being a lot closer (OP has just been taking up more dangerous construction jobs for a building so Bee hangs out with Ratchet more)

The ones most invested in the bots do think that they're a young family, with such a positive view on them they're also the most ballsy with talking to them, if someone was skeptical they try to avoid them

But after that last interaction with the guy flirting with Angel it definitely solidified that those two are involved at least, now that the 'Angel is a young mom' rumor has been floating around, the people who think that Truck King is not the bio father is wondering 'is there a deadbeat big yellow dad who wasn't treating her right and now good man Truck King has snatched her away? Or is Angel just unfaithful? It looked like Truck King was unaware of her fans and she even fought him so the guy could get away!' Of course nobody would ever bring this up to any of the bots... or their fans

Alot of information comes from Zekes mouth, the big rumors start here because while he doesn't say anything public with none of them there to respect the bots privacy, its also really hard to not tell your other friends about the robots who you get to hang out with as part as your job (park ranger) but now your friends have the perfect combo of vaugeness and details to go wild with rumors.

So while most of the town (at least the younger population) loves the drama, a part still wants some actual evidence that arent from some 19 year olds mouth, like the only seen evidence that the bots are a family before is that "It looks like a man, woman, and child robot"

Zeke also mostly reports on rumors that are notable (or at least he thinks are) so heres some crazy ones:

The robots are government spies that look like a cute family to get our guards down

The bots are actually a cursed family and we're normal people until they angered a wizard

The bots were sent by God as a test for something

The bots are escaped experiments from the Canadian government

Pete is a super villian creating these bots in his basement in preparation for world domination

The bots not only eat energy, but they also eat souls and are marinating us slowly

These damn bots are here stealing our jobs, we gotta deport them back to space before more come

[jacktheeldergod2]

I haven't been on my bullshit for too damn long

As you are putting on your shoes you find a coupon for a free gift from "Saul Vegera's fine finds" behind your ear. It has a small map leading to a part of your home where a secret door will lead you to the shop. Your options are:

A third eye. About as big as the average middle finger when curled,it's color is a lively red that contrasts the ill,yellowish look of the rest of it,veins popping visibly and even having a visible heartbeat at some spots. It'll be bound to you by taking a few drops of your blood and injecting it in the eye. From then on you can see spirits,magic and other supernatural phenomena through the eye,make it float around and teleport near it at a moment's notice or vice versa. If destroyed it'll transform one of your eyes into itself or appear in your empty eye socket. If in your eye socket it'll change size to accommodate your head

A worn out medical syringe,the old timey type. When filled with blood it'll become unnaturally warm and cozy to the touch. Injecting a creature with another's blood will make it live all the memories of the blood but won't harm it in any form. Doing this monthly for a year will permanently telepathically link the creatures. New creatures are all linked to this mental network

A phone booth sized metal box that has a hydraulic press on its top and bottom. Any two things crushed together will fuse together as well as the material can allow,such as making a spork. Crushing two creatures will make an optimization of the two,even unearthing lost evolution. For example 2 humans will result in a 4 armed human with a monkey tail,as tall as the fused power of the joints bones and muscles allow(usually 5 meters tall),will have fully pronounced female and male traits and have its own identity but remember the lives of both the fused people. In the culture it was created the fusing was utilized as a form of marriage

A straightjacket that looks completely normal except for a pocket in the back. First you need a piece of your biomass in the pocket,like blood,hair,nail clippings etc. from then on the jacket will start mentally adjusting those who wear it. At one hour the victim will start adopting your views. At five it'll have the same opinions as you. At 8 its intelligence will have undergone severe decrease. At 12 the person will be completely obedient and devoted,not unlike states of mind portrayed in "drone" fetish art. At 24 hours the person will be deleted and your soul will have control over their body,pretty much making you a hivemind. This is irreversible. People with multiple personalities will take longer to be deleted due to multiple souls inhabiting the body

An old military revolver that can never kill a person,thus often killing diseases or cancers when it shoots someone. It is always fully loaded no matter what. The better the wielder's aim is the more control they have over the effect of the bullets. Eventually they'll be fully able to alter people's bodies such as altering the joints,changing the shape and size of muscles and more. As they use it the wielder's hand will become fused to the pistol as they get more and more obsessed with the idea of healing others. Their bodies will gain other gun barrels and bullet chambers with them becoming more and more metallic. This process can be stopped by not constantly holding the gun. Good luck with that

3 sealed vials made of glass and copper,one with green sludge,one with pink and one with black. pouring the green one on a substance will make it bigger and other instances of the substance will "spread" on other nearby things till the sludge is put back in its vial. The black one will start devouring objects,lowering the amount of that substance in the world. If allowed to fully eat an object the substance won't be found on this solar system ever again. Pouring the pink sludge on a corpse will make the species of said corpse be born with physical blessings for the following years,not stopping until removed from the corpse. Drinking the pink vial will instead make you immortal and constantly better your body but make all others of your species gradually grow old quicker,raise the rate of birth defects and eventually stuff them out. After that you'll slowly become a pink ooze,your sludgy form fully under your control as you alone stand remaining,nothing short of a nuclear explosion or the death of the sun able to kill you

A jar with a shadow and a jar with a light. This shadow will remove all darkness in the area, spreading farther and farther until the jar is closed. The light jar does the opposite, replacing light with shadow. Drinking the contents of the shadow jar will allow you to control its abilities and be able to see in complete darkness. Drinking the light jar will give you its abilities and your eyes will be able to see the full color spectrum. Yes both can be drank by the same being. If the consumer dies the jars refill

A crown made of fool's gold and colored glass in place of gems with a discolored jester's hat whose bells don't jingle sewn on the inside of it. While wearing this hat your every word will be almost universally trusted. You'll be so charismatic the things you'll say will even surprise you. After you wear it a few days golden rings will dig into your skin,connecting the hat to your head. You'll start to lie more and more. After a few months you'll become more erratic and anxiety ridden and new bigger rings will bind the hat to your skull. After a year you'll be losing everyone's trust as you'll grow paranoid,and you'll never ever be able to not lie for the rest of your life. But hey. Maybe you'll still be able to get some mileage out of your charisma. Maybe a kind soul will take you as it's jester,at which point a jester's outfit will cover your entire body,mask glued to your face,and forever and ever you'll devote your life to being a jester,an entertainer,showman and jokester as your new body never ages. And if something kills you you'll leave no corpse behind. Only the hat will remain,a new glass gem upon it

A statue of an angel sitting down and sewing some old rags,5 meters tall. It wears nothing,no genitals,nipples or even an asscrack appearing upon its thin,frail form. Its eyes look focused and filled with love,a stoic look upon its face. Anything placed upon its lap will be fixed by the next dawn. The land around the angel will become healthier and more fertile,the air cleaner,the sun more merciful and the animals will feel safer. Its dominion will expand with time. Many eons into the future life shall sprout in other planets in the ecosystem,and as long as it stands the sun will never burst

A bronze circular bathtub. If filled with blood of children such as lambs and piglets it is able to perform a ritual. A single creature that has reached adulthood must be boiled alive in the blood. Afterwards the creature will be reborn in its desired body. Wings,claws,breasts,carapace anything the creature wants its form to be it shall be just that as long it's physically possible. Supernatural powers like floating cannot be given. The creature shall remain young for 11 years,after which it will resume aging if it doesn't redo the ritual

A door. You can summon the door wherever you want as long as you leave a bloodstain on it. Adding a new bloodstain won't change ownership unless the previous stain is removed. By walking through the door you'll be in a vast world made just for your tastes. Endless machinery that automates everything,boundless meadows, pristine gyms,brothels with the most beautiful beings you've ever laid eyes upon,lush jungles filled with amazing fruit,anything you could want,and as long as you are there your body will be healthy and you won't age a day more. But nothing from that world can ever be taken out of it,no power or object and no person can join you in your paradise. Perhaps you'll find it worthwhile to never leave

A tool box with bone grafted on it to make patterns,letters in a language you can't speak carved on skeletons of beings you've never seen. Just opening it will have it empty. By killing something while it's in the box,for example letting an animal suffocate in it or slitting a lamb's throat while its head is in the box,it'll gain a tool of your choosing. More complex things like a computer may take the life of many beings while a rat will be enough for a screwdriver. There is no limit on how many tools you can have or how many instances of the same thing,and the toolbox will always have the tools you want when you open. By pouring a wine bottle's worth of your blood in the toolbox it'll fuse with you and you'll be able to summon it or even open your chest cavity as a gateway to it. Nightmares of the killed beings hunting you may occur a few times a month

@1969chevycamaro @whereserpentswalk @everythingismadeofchaos @trashsouppossum @techiekittie @your-average-toast-enjoyer @ononpetitecroissant @polkadotsunshine @ana-isnt-dead @sentient-marshmallow-woman @doyoudreamofwater @dackychansworldofhoshino @dh-ng @decoysender @foxundermoon @frozen-antifreeze @gloriousvermin @kinkshame-puncher-666 @kirkland-brand-witch @leavesswaytoday @mmmmmmky @mun-urufu @moonsfavoritedaughter

[spectral-phases]

Tim Drake as Rook (and Blackbird)

I've seen posts floating around trying to suggest new names and new costumes for him, and I've seen really great designs (u/Hunkerdown_son's Gray Ghost suit) that I like a lot more than what he's gotten. (Poor kid's gone back to Robin and was feuding with Damian about who's the better Robin? Like, boy, you could be in college, you are a whole-ass adult now, god damn, can the writers let you develop). There's Cardinal, Flamebird, Redbird, every red bird there is. And like, I get it, Red Robin was one of his more iconic runs (pre-Flashpoint), his OYL costume was primarily red, he was Red Robin wearing basically a Robin costume for a little while there too.

One of the name's I've seen is Rook. And that fascinates me. I actually had a hazy image of it pop into my mind, like a terrible "got any more pixels?" JPG picture of an artbook all zoomed-in and blown out one, of what that might look like.

(Artist's recreation of the above described image)

So I made it.

(Look, I know. I know. That is not how "Rook" would be stylized for the logo, but listen, listen. Cursive k basically has a mini-R in it and I was having fun with this. Okay? I don't draw much these days and I'm not a comic artist/graphic designer. I do math for a living.) (I spent very little time on the logo for Blackbird, but you get the idea. The "R" gets twisted nicely into a "B" for Blackbird, in my opinion.)

Design choices and everything below. Very stupidly long.

Rook first because I know the color is going to be a sell.

Rook is a bird in the corvid family, with crows, so they're exceptionally smart birds. Rooks are also the name for the chess piece that can perform the trickster maneuver called castling where they trade places with the king (It's not hard to do, necessarily, just like, a 4D move compared to the normal chess moves, and not something the average person knows about). Being that he's been relegated to the "boy genius" role and he is vicious and cunning with his mind more than almost anything else (See Robin #137's "Show your face here again and we'll frame you for the kind of crimes even other hardened kills don't condone or forgive" speech, him blowing up the LoA's computers in Red Robin #8 after somehow creating a program/virus on their systems while under constant supervision, or all of Red Robin's "The Hit List" arc). (I know he's not the only one who can do or has done, things like this, but he does it a lot, is my point).

Rooks, the birds, as a symbol of death are also fascinating to connect to Tim. He's never "died" like the other Robins have, but his mantra in his introduction is basically "Batman needs a Robin." Because Batman/Bruce has been traumatized by losing his son, Jason, and is spiraling, dialing up the violence towards criminals, dialing down his ability to care whether or not he survives, destroying his interpersonal relationships in the process. Death as a symbol can mean the literal figurative death, but it also can mean the end of a phase of life, of letting something go, and moving onto a new chapter.

And that's what Bruce needed to do. He, of course, would always miss Jason, but he needed to move past the pain, move past the agony, become what Batman was supposed to be again. Tim's the one who got him there. He's the one who convinced Bruce to open that new door. Tim's the one who put the "family" in Bat-Family because Bruce sure as shit was not going to do that. Here, this post explains that a bit more eloquently.

https://www.tumblr.com/thattimdrakeguy/190044791065/would-you-consider-tim-the-heart-of-the-batfamily

Rooks, the birds, are also blue/purple in color, which I think is great for Tim. I know, I know, everyone wants him with red. I get. I really, truly, get it. But let's just...take a step back and go outside of the box a little for his color. Now, I know, not everyone keeps the same color consistently (the number of times Nightwing has just bounced between Blue and Red, for example), but there is usually a "main" color strongly associated with each member of the Bat-Family.

Nightwing gets blue, duh (and also bluebird). Red Hood gets red (and also Nightwing when he's having a shit time and also Kate Kane's Batwoman and also Damian's Redwing). Damian's Robin often gets green (though I low-key associate green with Tim's Robin more than Damian's, Tim's no longer going to be Robin here, so Damian can have it). The Signal gets yellow (and so does Cass's Batgirl/Black Bat/Orphan). Stephanie as Spoiler/Batgirl has purple (and so does Huntress and Barbara's Batgirl). And Oracle gets lime green.

We don't need any more red symbols in the family. It's already out of hand without throwing Tim in there. And out of all the siblings, he's the only one without a distinct color.

Anyway. If we dip into tertiary colors, we can fix all of that. I made a mock-up of what I mean drawing the symbols mostly by memory in a few minutes. For Huntress/Helena Bertinelli, I just used her mask.

See how Tim as Rook gets to be wedged in between Nightwing's blue and Stephanie's purple with Violet? Tim Drake is a Dick Grayson fan first, Nightwing fan second, and person a distant third, so going more blue with his scheme is a much better fit. You could come up with a name for him to be teal, but violet is better for Rook, and like he's also close to Stephanie's Spoiler/Batgirl colors and say what you will of his relationship with her, she is important to his character as friend/girlfriend/friendly-ex. And Dick went from "Red/green/yellow" to "Blue/black" so Tim can go from "Red/green/yellow/black" to "violet/black."

Oh, and it lets him get his "R" back. The one from the 90's that's just so iconic that he was literally introduced with as Robin. If we can have a million different bat symbols then we can have two different R's floating around and no one will be confused.

And anyway, with all of that in mind, and that terrible image haunting me, I decided to draw a quick reference sheet for what Rook might look like. I think I spent like 2 hours on the final version, with an hour and a half on sketches I hated/deleted. Anyway.

I had a nice dark green in here instead of sky blue and a dark purple instead of dark blue, but then I was looking at the purple/green combo and "I'm in dangered" my way out of the Joker color-combo.

Instead I decided, since he's a young person and the violet I chose was sort of blacklight-esque, then why not make him look like some kinda blacklight glowing guy. The youth these days still love that kinda stuff, right? And it ties into the themes of being a light in the dark and crime-scene stuff and all that. The colors came from how lead glass reacts under black light, and while I imagine the violet parts do show up in black light, it's the light blue parts that actually glow in blacklight.

If you want to draw this design or make up your own Rook design or tweak this design go ahead, like, for example if you wanted him to have the sharp pointy cuffs that I couldn't get to look good at all (but please tag me if you do, I wanna see it, unless you're shit-talking me. Then don't tag me.)(Shit talking means "my god, this asshole who cannot draw at all" and not "It was okay, but I thought it might be better like this/with some tweaks/more coherent colors" one I can take and the former will make me cry).

(If the notes are hard to read, they will be in text at the very bottom)

Obviously, I got a little too obsessed with the mask for my own good. I didn't want him to just have a domino mask, I liked the protectiveness of his Red Robin cowl (if not the look), and I wanted more coverage while also having his hair out because he has really good hair. So it goes around the back of his head in a band, protecting his temples and the back of his head, but nothing else for his hair to show. It is supposed to blend with his hair so we get the illusion of the cowl, but drawn by someone better/more time/shading it'd be fairly obvious up front where his hair and mask are, but less so from the back. And Tim has done the mask under a mask gag before and a self-destructing mask, so I feel like him having approximately 30-billion fail-safes to prevent it from just being pulled off of him is in-character.

And then I decided, that since Tim is Nightwing fan second, he can have a red version of the outfit named "Blackbird" for when he's feeling a little moody or feisty the same as Nightwing has the red Nightwing suit for...reasons ("I've joined the villains and have given up on being a hero fr" or whatever. Why have one outfit when you can have several?). This time the colors were inspired by red cadmium glass under blacklight and the red winged blackbird.

Red Winged Blackbird's symbolically are "a sign of change and transformation. They represent the power of love and compassion, as well as the need to take action in order to make positive changes in your life. The red winged blackbird is a symbol for spiritual growth, inner strength, courage, determination and self-awareness." Which. You know. Fits Tim. And there's red. So. I feel like that's an easy sell. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I wanted to reference his OYL, Post-Crisis Red Robin (regular and data alter), and Robin (Post-Crisis/Rebirth) outfits for the design. I didn't care for much of his post-Flashpoint Red Robin outifts, adding Nomura/Kingdom Hearts zippers levels of belts to him or just being Robin with two "R"s for a symbol and bad hair. You can see the OYL in the edges of the cape and the interior of the mask. Robin, Rebirth in particular, with his elbow pads and knee pads, shoulder armor and the shape of his boots. Red Robin in the bandolier harness/belt thing he's got, but every thing on it is one of those hammer space utility belt pouches the Bats are so well known for, so he can have a bajillion of them as the "tool using" Robin. The "V" center and arm-stripe/finger-stripe combo is, obviously, reminiscent of Nightwing, and his Red Robin data alter, which is also reflected in the larger mask (though the nose is not as beak-like).

(OYL References, the dialogue in the second to last panel of the first reference is misattributed, in case you were confused as to why Tim is dissing his outfit and Dick is talking like Tim)

(Red Robin References)

(Robin References)

And obviously, I just put his "R" symbol on a circle and called it a day. Although I was clearly going off of memory instead of a direct reference, but whatever. Whatever. It fits better in a circle the way I did it. And a circle is a better buckle/clip than the oval, which was a deliberate choice. So. Anyway.

Notes (from top left to bottom right, grouped by what they're describing):

Shoulder Shot: "We're brining back his iconic 'R' from the 90's for 'Rook. (pointing to the R symbol)." "The cape can be rolled back to reveal some light shoulder armor that doesn't change his silhouette when the cape is down (pointing to his shoulder armor and the rolled back cape that is reminiscent of his over the shoulder "black with yellow" capes)." "Feather pattern that emulates Nightwing's arm/fingerstripes (pointing to the side of his arm)." "His elbow pads have the same shape as his kneepads for the skaterboy vibe. (pointing to the pads over his arms and knees)."

Sketch of harness: "Bandolier harness hides under the cape that clips into his insignia (pointing to the symbol in the center)." "Each space is a pouch (pointing to every area between the pointed ridges (which are hollow tubes with screw caps that can also hold things for maximum hammerspace))."

The detailed shot of the mask: "The face mask is partial emotive with white lenses that have thermal and night-vision (next to the white eyes)." "The foil layer of the mask can peel off unless actively held when the mask is lifted, and cling to his skin with a static charge that makes it almost impossible to peel from his skin (pointing to the teal circuit bit that is lifted from the pointy bit of the mask (the circuits are water/sweat proof, don't worry))." "There are dozens of magnetic locks that have to hit in the right on/off pattern to life all layers of the mask. Each finger in his gloves can have an active magnetic charge, so there are over a thousand combinations (pointing to the foil layer and the inside of the mask)."

The sketches of the mask lowered and raised: "The back of the mask is made of interlocking combs that seal together with metal locks to avoid it coming off unintended (pointing to the back of the raised mask)." "Durable, flexible rubber-like material (pointing to the sides of the mask, back, and the expanding fan like section that allows it to raise while still being one-piece and the top of the mask that would roll against his forehead)." "The mask can be lifted up when the locks are undone (pointing to the raised and lowered mask and the expanding accordion like structure)."

The sketch of a side profile of his head with his bangs and face half there: "Where does the mask end and his hair begin? Like Kujo Jotaro's cap, the world may never know (pointing to the back of his head where the black mask and black hair would blend together)." "The back of the mask combs through his hair and the top layers of his hair cover it (providing an actual answer)." "The nose of the mask has padding that protects his nose from breaks and conceals the shape of his nose and cheeks (next to his nose, which is half covered by the mask)."

[deathreversed]

The sudden thrumming of bass from above makes Nier want to climb up to the third floor and silence it, but she stops herself, for Mika's sake. Instead she simply lets herself be led to Mika's room, bowing her head as she's shown inside. The interior is chic and elegant, something she would've expected from someone as put-together as Mika.

"Oh, I don't... really pay attention to things like that..." she admits. "My room just has things I need, and that's all... But I imagine you didn't call me here just to show me this, right?"

There isn't much seating, but Nier finds a small chair in front of a vanity and takes a seat. Death simply floats at her side, still carrying the tray with the tea set. Listening to Mika talk, the frown is almost immediately apparent on her face, because even Mika is getting one, very important fact wrong. All the other things she's saying barely register, because Uzi got it wrong, and now Mika's getting it wrong, and Nier really doesn't want anyone getting it wrong because she's just not that kind of person! If people think she is then what was it all for? Why is she being so careful?

"Mika, wait. One of the things you're saying isn't right, even though I- I already explained it. That wasn't me. At the museum, that was someone else! I-I wouldn't- I would never do those things!" She doesn't even realize she's risen to her feet, crossing the room with a frenzied expression. "I never ate anyone! You shouldn't have let her do what she wanted, because she wasn't me!"

"No matter what you think, no matter what you try to convince yourself of, it was you."

No it wasn't. It wasn't Nier, it wasn't. She can barely hear the tray Death carries clatter to the floor over the sound of music from upstairs as she leans in towards Mika. "You don't believe that... that thing, do you? Over me? I don't want you to hate me for what someone else did!"

Death's cool hand brushes her shoulder, and Nier leans away from Mika to look up at the primal. "D-Death... What is it?"

Death tilts her head. "My beloved... Were you not listening?"

"Eh? N-no, I... I suppose I was distracted..." says Nier, her ears flicking. She wipes tears from her eyes as her mind attempts to recollect the past minutes, and as soon as she recalls Mika's words before she'd interrupted, she-

"A-ah... Y-you...?" She trails off, staring at Mika with wide eyes as her face goes red. She never expected this. "S-so all the things Uzi said... I-I thought she was lying, y-you really...?"

For a moment, she reaches out. There's some kind of seed there, a possibility that Nier hadn't considered. It's something she never could have found anywhere else but here, in Spirale. It's true that Mika's been so kind to her, so considerate, and Nier feels the same. She cares about Mika too, she wants to keep her safe, and she wants to see her happy.

But does she love her?

Nier's hand falls, and she looks away. "I-I'm sorry, Mika... There's... a-already someone else that I like... I wouldn't be able to return your feelings..."

She sits back down, wrapping her arms around herself. Maybe, if... No, she won't let herself think about maybes. This is something she's already figured out back home, and now that he's here, she isn't going to let the opportunity pass her by. "If you want... I can just leave... for now..."

"Mmm alright. It's just this way..." She said, responding to Nier's thoughtfullness with a smile. Even if the figure that showed up behind Nier and the fog was something Mika immediately wanted to address, not to mention finally managing to put a name to the figure she called "Death". But she probably would get an answer regardless of if it was here or not. Everything would be explained in due time, along with an answer she wanted to finally hear from the erune's own feelings.

Still Mika lead the three of them up the stairs and to her room, noting the loud music coming from the floor above with another sigh as she opened the door to her own room. Decorated about what one would expect from someone like her, but spacious enough that it didn't feel too overly intoxicating. Still despite how much she cleaned it up there were still a few signs Mika only recently caught up with cleaning it up. As opposed to how she left it only a few weeks ago.

"Make yourself at home. I don't really know if this is how your own room looks back where your living but this whole thing took awhile as well." As for herself she chose the bed, sitting down at the edge of it and placed both hands on kness.

"I was talking with Uzi after everything happened at the museum. When I couldn't save you and I broke down crying I went back home and locked myself in my own room for days. And well honestly I would've stayed there if she didn't come by and knock to check on me."

Something she was thankful for despite their argument just today. It was the biggest slump she was in since arriving in Spirale and one she would've stayed in without someone's help. Even if that person was just as angsty as she was.

"We talked a little bit and I mentioned your name, hence why she was able to recognize you in the first place. And well o-one thing lead to another and she mentioned how I felt about you."" Even if she tried to hide it Mika's face turned red, made even worse by her crying a few moments ago. Embarrassment and an awful emotional state, what more could one ask for?

"...I was an awful person shooting you. I should've just let you have your way at the museum. But I told you there that the reason I did all of that was because I wanted you to be the happiest girl out there. Because the truth is Nier..." Mika's voice lowered as she looked over to her, almost putting a hand on their lap before pulling it back and keeping it on her own..

"Every time I'm with you I feel a special way. I think I'm starting to have feelings for you that go beyond friends. Like lovers...and I don't know if I'm alone in that sentiment."

[willowfae82]

The Witcher fic idea: Edwardian/Steampunk AU. found family/family of choice. G/Y/J friends-to-lovers and back again.

Geralt: retired mercenary turned single father in want of a tutor for his sweet, misunderstood, daughter Ciri. no one really asks how he came to be her guardian; there's rumor of a promise made when he worked for Ciri's grandmother as a bodyguard/confidant.

Ciri: outspoken will-o-the-wisp. her mother died under mysterious circumstances and she finds herself a ward of Geralt, who's Doing His Best™ but just doesn't know wtf to do with a teenage daughter. she eventually comes to love and respect her Mom and Two Dads. after some Minor Drama™ involving her 'but daddy, i love him' relationship with Dara.

Yennefer: a quiet, confident woman who's past made her grow up faster than she should have. Yennefer takes on tutelage of Ciri on the word of her mentor, Tissaia. She's made her own way determined to show the world that she can do anything she wants regardless of her circumstance.

Jaskier: a down on his luck artist. he'll do whatever it takes to make a name for himself. he's a lady's man or a man's man (he makes no qualms) who follows his own code. he's well-traveled because he's of higher social standing but he wants nothing to do with his family's money or name. he's had no-strings-attached affairs with both Geralt and Yennefer, and maintained friendships with both.

Geralt, Yennefer, and Jaskier rekindle their relationships and form a Queer Poly Triad

[vaguely-concerned]

even at this point in the story and with the romance well and truly confirmed it's very possible that lucanis has never seen even a sliver of rye's naked skin below the throat. very likely no one on the team has yet except possibly emmrich if rye got hurt in battle and needed help patching it up. high-necked watcher garb with gloves and all stay ON at all times. thank god for rye's sake that lucanis' history of romantic interest indicates that surprise bitch he could be kind of into that fhsdkjfas

[skitskatdacat63]

For everyone who wanted bullfighter Nando when I mentioned it the other day, here you go :D

+ this one I don't feel like coloring yet(imagine he's in Ferrari colors!!!)

[crossedwiress]

i wish we were all rose-colored too, my rose-colored boy