#one of the most romantic films of all time and they barely touch

[anotherfallenchild]

This is aziracrow to me if you all even care

https://youtu.be/m8GuedsQnWQ?si=A1W5_vMd89gV9GNe

[hvlcy0n]

SAY IT (PT. 1) . . . hayato suo x fem!reader

+ you’ve never reciprocated any of suo’s confessions of love, but a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation among you and your friends grants him all the insight he needs.

+ 4.2k words

+ NSFW (MINORS DNI) // UNEDITED // brief mentions of sex // mentions of edging at the end // brief mentions of overstimulation // mentions of past heartbreak/insecurities // established relationship // manipulation // i got all the big stuff but i’m definitely forgetting some minor stuff i’m just tired of looking at this

+ this is my first time writing suo so plEASE cut me some slack, i got tired of seeing it every time i opened google docs. i left any descriptions/names of your friends extremely vague on purpose so you can fill in whoever. the NEXT part of this will be centered around smut, but this one was more just kinda the build-up to his decision to push you out of your comfort zone.

suo has always been able to see right through you.

granted, that was his area of expertise—the ability to pierce through people’s defenses as if they were nothing more than a gossamer film and unearth whatever information he resolved to discover. he was regarded as dangerous by both allies and enemies, capable of sinking his fingertips into peoples’ psyches and peeling back the layers until their self–control began to fracture and ruby welled beneath his touch and trickled down to obscure his opponents’ vision in an all–consuming bloodlust that left them vulnerable and uncoordinated. 

he had a critical eye and a terrifying intuition; and while his friends wouldn’t trade him for the world, they were also aware of the uncharted territory of suo’s complex character—not to mention the existence of a small distance between them that had been discreetly established by suo himself. while he genuinely enjoyed the presence of his friends, he valued his privacy and space, and he often kept information about him restricted. he was more enigmatic than anything else. 

so, when suo offhandedly mentioned having a girlfriend, they were shocked. although emotionally intelligent, none of his friends pegged him as a romantic, his secrecy and manipulative tactics seemingly too insurmountable an obstacle in a relationship. generally, he was kind and respectful, but his demeanor could flip on a dime in the face of discourteous behavior. he could be mean—unfair.  it wasn’t uncommon for him to mask his slick tongue and cruelty behind refined language and his gentlemanly composure as he subjected his targets to public humiliation. sometimes, his emotions could get the better of him, and he could be frightening when they do. a gentleman? maybe. but there’s more nuance to him than that.

unbeknownst to them, suo was remarkably softer with you. warmth and genuine kindness emanated from every content smile and careful dance of his hands over your skin, calloused fingertips bearing an ardent reverence that would cause even aphrodite to flush. the sharp edge to his tongue smoothed, his teasing light-hearted and devoid of the faint, underlying drip of venom that could sometimes be heard punctuating his words if someone listened closely enough. when he observed you, his eyes glowed with innocuous curiosity and rather than distant analysis. 

the more time he spent with you, the more he could read you like an open book, deft fingertips tracing over even your most tattered, weathered pages and the most smudged ink to wholly bare the contents of your soul to him. he sought to know you in your entirety—your likes and dislikes, how you like to be touched, how you react to certain things. after all, the more he knows about you, the better he can protect you. 

the better he can love you.

love.

that’s a tricky subject for you to navigate, he’s learned.

you were never one to shy away from his affection. in fact, you clearly delighted in the attention he lavished you with. there was never a question as to whether you would hurry to lace your fingers with his if he reached out to you, if you would lean into his caresses, or if you would let him pepper kisses across your cheeks. you were so receptive to his ministrations, so much so that it was almost natural for your body to drift toward his in search of some sort of closeness. whatever he doled out, you returned, and that included the light banter and flirtatious remarks you two often exchanged. you fascinated him, kept him on his toes. 

the only area of your relationship that you fell short in was verbal confessions of love. suo knew that you were fiercely protective of your heart, already having subjected it to enough bruises and scrapes throughout your life to make you want to guard it to the best of your abilities. he was fortunate as it was that you had trusted him enough to relinquish it to him.

he knew that you were still learning to navigate the choppy waters of vulnerability—true vulnerability. it was easy enough to bask in suo’s attention and rely on his ability to comprehend the unspoken, but to say the words aloud would be to speak it into being, to charge the universe with the magnetic force that will bind your fate to his, to make it real. you never said anything that you didn’t mean, and suo understood that after all your hard work fortifying your emotions, to openly admit it would require you to let down your guard entirely and let him in.

there’s no doubt in his mind that you love him. he can feel it in the way you pour every ounce of heartfelt emotion into the kisses you press to his lips, your dedication toward memorizing and analyzing all of his microexpressions so that you can understand him on a deeper level, and the adoration that pools in your eyes like molten honey as you observe him when you think he isn’t paying attention. only a fool would mistake the depth of your feelings. 

he can read you like a book, that much is true, but it’s much more enjoyable to have it read to him line–by–line than to flip through the pages on his own. 

it’s quite endearing, actually, the way your skin would warm and your brain would stall whenever his lips would brush a saccharine “i love you” over the shell of your ear, or the way goosebumps would scatter across your skin and you would clench around him whenever he’d pair the words with a well–timed thrust inside you. he thrives off flustering you and witnessing your demeanor crumble into a delightful shyness that never fails to cause a small smile to tug at the corners of his lips.

even so, he sometimes finds himself yearning for that reassurance that you’re as irrevocably enamored with him as he is with you—that you crave him the way he craves you. he understands that it’s greedy of him and that he should tamp down such self–centered emotions. he knows what your feelings toward him are; it would be inconsiderate of him to pry you out of your shell until you’re ready in order to satisfy his own desires. the concept of love operates differently for different people, and he can accept that. 

it always slips his mind how swiftly things can change.

it was a complete coincidence when he’d stumbled upon you in the outdoor seating area of a restaurant, accompanied by a few  friends of yours. he recalled you telling him that you were going out for lunch with them, but he had no idea that his outing in search of a new pair of shoes to replace his worn ones would cause your paths to cross. he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on your conversation, only to simply greet you and then continue about his business, but he paused when he heard his name leave one of your friends’ lips.

“so, are you and suo still together?”

oh? before he can even acknowledge the gravity of contravening your privacy, his body is sparked into motion all on its own. he’s quick to retreat, melting into the slanted shadow proffered by the slim alleyway he had been poised to exit, just beyond the scope of your view.

he’s well aware that this is an infraction of the trust you extended to him, but he forces himself to disregard the prick of guilt aside in favor of potentially learning valuable information about the inner workings of your brain. it may not be ideal, but it’s for the best, he reasons. what if you reveal to your friends ways that he could better serve as your boyfriend? what if you feel more comfortable explaining to your friends your reservations about returning his heartfelt confessions? besides, the conversation is technically also centered around him, so surely it would be rude to bar him from listening in.

“of course,” the thought of you denying your relationship was never a concern for suo. you both trust each other implicitly, but to hear you stake such an immediate, explicit claim over him rouses a ticklish spark of delight in his stomach all the same. you scoff, as if the idea was so improbable it was ridiculous. “i’ll tie that man up in my basement before i let him just leave.” suo chuckles gently to himself. perhaps you truly are as invested as he is, after all.

“the dick must be fucking life–altering, if that’s the case.” she laughs. “come on, tell us. is it?”

“wh—” suo’s lips settle into a small, amused smile as he watches you flounder under her questioning, eyes feverishly flitting to your other friends for help, only for each one of them to leave you to drown with their own wide–eyed, inquisitive stares. “oh, my god, i’m not telling you that!” nervous laughter wracks your chest. suo’s shrewd gaze can practically perceive the memories flickering through your brain as you try to maintain your composure, each one spliced together in a salacious collage that has blood thrumming beneath your skin. suo has always been one to fine–tune his craft, and his perfectionism extended to the bedroom as he used his meticulous attention to detail and acute awareness of your reactions to guide you to your peak over . . . and over . . . and over again until he was satisfied.

and of course, you knew that.

“but seriously,” another girl props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her palm, observing you closely. “i’ve never seen you like this before. before him, you were all ‘ew, gross, men’—not to say that isn’t still valid, but y’know. maybe suo really is a good match for you.”

“do you love him?” the first girl pipes up ecstatically.

now we’re getting somewhere.

it requires significant concentration for suo not to laugh outright when a jolt of surprise grips your body, your muscles visibly tensing and eyes rounding. your lips part to speak, but the words remain wedged in your throat. “i—uh . . .”

“wait, for real?” the third girl, who had remained quiet this entire time, finally speaks up. “do you not actually love him?”

this time, when you don’t at least make an effort to deny their claims, suo’s smile begins to wilt. from suo’s angle, your expression is sapped of the typical bashfulness he had been anticipating. rather, your features are murky with conflict, brows furrowed pensively and fingertips drumming against the chilled glass of the untouched beverage sitting between your palms. for the first time in a while, he can’t read you, and while he’s always enjoyed a bit of reticence and mystery, he doesn’t want it like this—not when such uncertainty is founded on the future of his relationship. did he misunderstand you somehow? was he wrong? no, there’s no way that you’d have done everything you did if you didn’t harbor some type of love for him. it’s simply not plausible. right? 

the silence is unnerving, causing a chasm of apprehension to split his stomach and swallow up the candlelit flicker of warmth that once resided in his chest. he’s never been an anxious individual, typically collected and level–headed under pressure. in fact, he’s always prided himself on his ability to remain composed; but now, as he stands here, body stiff and heart thumping as he waits for you to continue, he figures that love really is one hell of a drug. only the wideness of his eyes betrays his usual poise, but even that would be enough for any of his friends to notice that something is amiss. well, mature as he may be and as far above the fragility of human nature that others believe he is, he’s still only human. and it’s times like this that remind him that he’s still weak.

god, how far has he fallen? how much power did he give you?

“all this time, i thought you guys were in love.” the second girl gasps, hand flitting up to cover her mouth. “so, what’s going on? what’s wrong with him?”

“nothing!” you’re quick to find your voice to defend him, but for some reason, it doesn’t ease the tightness in his chest or the worried spin of his mind. “he’s wonderful, it’s just—”

“is he mean to you?” the second girl presses. “because if he is, i can—”

“he’s obviously not mean to her if she’s still with him.” the first girl retorts, silencing her with a dismissive wave of her hand. before the second girl can argue, she continues. “it could just be that it’s too early for her to know if she does.”

“it’s been months.” the third girl points out. “something has to be up if she doesn’t love him—”

“i do!”

suo’s fingers twitch.

your friends fall silent as the words burst from your chest, unwavering and aflame with conviction. your voice quiets as you fold your arms over your chest and lean back in your chair, eyes still fixated on the cup in front of you. “i do love him, it’s just . . . i’ve never felt like this for anyone, and i don’t know what to do. it feels so real and intense, and it’s scary.”

your words reverberate through suo’s mind as he expels a breath he didn’t notice was wedged in his chest. “i do love him.” his entire body seems to decompress, the tension in his muscles alleviating. “i’ve never felt like this for anyone.” suddenly, your hesitance makes sense. not only were you protective of your heart to begin with, but the magnitude of the importance of this was much larger and therefore more frightening than he realized. suo’s heart swells in his chest at your confession, pride licking up his sternum to grace the apples of his cheeks with a feather–light kiss of ruby. he’s honored to be the first person you’re entrusting with such a privilege—well, even if he’s not supposed to know about it yet.

“what do you mean, you don’t know what to do?” the first girl stares at you as if you’ve sprouted a second head. she flips her hands over with her palms facing toward the sky. “tell him?”

“i can’t just do that!” this time, it’s your turn to look at her like she just told you she ran over a family of five with her chevy tahoe, and suo chuckles.

“and why not?” she flops back in her seat incredulously.

“i just told you, it’s scary!” you insist matter–of–factly. “you remember the last guy i was with? it lasted one month, and in that amount of time, i aged thirty years and had stress levels that would’ve gotten me sent to the emergency room.”

suo hums softly in surprise. you didn’t tell him about that. of course, he had suspected that someone had dragged you through the trenches prior to accepting him as your boyfriend, but he felt as though that was a topic that would be better left to your discretion. you would tell him if you wanted him to know, so he never questioned you.

“yeah, but suo is way better than him.” the third girl reminds you. “at least, i think so. i only met the guy like twice.”

“helpful.” the second girl remarks dryly.

“no, he seriously is so much better.” you insist. “he’s everything i could’ve asked for, but it’s just . . . exposing myself like that would mean he has everything he needs to hurt me, and if i end up flat on my ass again, i don’t know what i’m gonna do. and i know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt me, but . . . ugh, this is impossible.” you let your head loll back. 

there’s a brief stretch of silence before the second girl speaks up again, and this time, her voice has flattened into a deadpan. “girl.” she blinks at you. “that’s the issue?”

clearly not anticipating that reaction, you stare blankly at her for a moment, searching for the right words. “i—what?” you bristle defensively. “what’s that supposed to mean? is that suddenly not a good reason to bare my heart and soul to this man?”

“no, it’s actually really not.” the third girl joins the second’s campaign. she scoots forward in her seat and folds her hands delicately on the table. “let’s reflect. this is suo we’re talking about. this is the same man who stayed the night and took care of you religiously when you were sick with food poisoning from your first date, the same man who gave you earrings similar to his for your birthday, and the same man who showed up at your house in the pouring rain with nothing but the clothes on his back to accompany you when that storm knocked your power out—as a ‘friend.’” 

“why did you use air quotes around the word ‘friend?’” the first girl narrows her eyes at the third.

“because he was playing the long game, okay? he was plotting. stay with me now.” she answers quickly, placing her hand on the first girl’s knee. 

suo chuckles, raising his brows. he has to admit, your friends are impressive.

“so,” the third girl continues. “those are just a couple examples, but it’s crystal clear that suo is devoted. like he’s in this to stay.”

“or he’s some sort of supervillain.” the second girl interjects.

“don’t say that!” the third girl snaps, aghast. “no, yeah, you’re right. the ‘untouchable’ furin graduate who took a bat to the ribs just to keep her safe is definitely here to create lifelong trauma for her. anyway, as i was saying,” she turns back to you, “if that’s not enough, think about it this way. suo is really private, right?”

“right.” you nod.

“well, he was probably in a similar boat as you, then. i mean, you said that you were worried that you’d be giving him what he needs to hurt you, but the inverse is also true, and he already told you he loves you. he trusted you not to hurt him with that information, so you should be able to trust him not to do that to you, either.”

“that’s . . . wait,” the wheels rotate in your brain as you mull over her advice, and your hand drifts up to conceal your mouth in a moment of clarity. “oh, shit. no, wait, yeah, you may have a point. i didn’t think about it like that.”

“that’s what you have us for.” the third girl grins.

“so, does that mean you’re gonna tell him?” the second girl quirks a brow at you. “maybe? probably? hopefully?”

“uh . . . probably not . . .” you wince, only to jump when you’re promptly subjected to an onslaught of groans and complaints from your friends.

“dude, what the fuck?” 

“i know, i’m sorry!” you yelp.

“did you get nothing out of the conversation?”

“no, i did, i swear!” your desperate attempts to defend yourself against your friends are fractured by bouts of laughter. “trust me, i did.”

“so, what’s the problem now?” the second girl drags her palm exhaustedly down her cheek.

“the issue is that it’s still embarrassing!” you whine. “you literally said it yourself earlier. i’ve never been like this—ever! just thinking about saying it makes me wanna crawl in a hole. it makes me feel, like, exposed or some shit, i don’t know—quit looking at me like that! i don’t know how else to explain it!”

“don’t piss me off.”

 “what?” your lips pop open in indignation. “but—”

suo’s slender fingers settle delicately over his lips as he chuckles to himself and steps completely behind the alley corner. his eyelids flutter low, gaze soft with contentment, as he listens to you scramble to defend yourself against your frustrated friends. it’s alright, they’ve done plenty. he can take it from here.

the conversation bounced around between the four of you has certainly altered the circumstances, providing you with the clarity needed to shed your reservations about setting yourself up for a potential heartbreak and unfurling the remaining layers of your defense to reveal the lingering issue still barring you from being honest about your feelings. at this point, it seems to no longer be about you being ill–equipped and underprepared to handle such a divulgence, which he could certainly accept. now, it appears to be about disentangling yourself from the binds of shame and embarrassment. about you requiring a little push in the right direction—well, less of a small nudge and more of a guiding hand that you would trust to unravel you down to the strings of your heart.

fortunately for you, there is no one more aware of what loose threads of yours to tug on in order to achieve his goal than suo himself.

maybe it’s unfair of him to change his mind and concoct an excuse to denounce the leniency and understanding that had been fueling his patience thus far. maybe it’s unfair of him to take the initiative to strip you of the protective cocoon he had previously been more than prepared to allow you to reside in. maybe it’s unfair of him to press you, to utilize his silver tongue and honeyed words to draw out your rawest and most vulnerable state.

but when the opportunity has practically tripped and fallen into his lap, how could he not? it isn’t as if it would be a detriment to you. he has never led you astray, and he certainly isn’t going to start now. 

a venereal plan is already brewing in the back of his mind as he mulls over how to best extract such a confession from you. no matter what type of attitude you may acquire or how sturdy you believe your resistance to be, pleasure has never failed to whittle and melt you down into a pliant puddle that’s all soft edges and hazy, trusting eyes. an even trade—a release only he can provide for the secret you’re trying so hard to keep from him? this evening, perhaps, if he plays his cards right. you don’t have plans tomorrow, which means you certainly can’t be too angry if he keeps you awake into the darkest hours of the night. 

he can practically feel the ghost of the warmth of your skin under his fingertips as he keeps you pinned so that you can’t escape his ministrations, taste the salt brimming in your tears of frustration as you war between your pride and surrendering to the pleasure he plans to dangle in front of you, and hear your whines and moans as he keeps you just barely balanced on the precipice of release. he can already predict how you’ll label him as mean—manipulative, even. and maybe he is.

he’s only human, after all. 

and what would humans be if not flawed? if not a bit cruel? if not a bit . . . selfish?

[iimplicitt]

I WAS ALL OVER HER PT. 3 — O.P.

pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)

part three of three, link to part one and two here

summary: tensions are at an all time high between the mclaren drivers. y/n makes a choice. lando gets punched, both by reality and a friend.

warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though. lando, i apologise.

word count: 5.5k

authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

The Italian sun was warm and for the most part, all you could see was a sea of Ferrari red in the crowd. Not a surprise given it was Monza. The last twenty four hours had been a bit chaotic. Lando got on pole position, and despite everything you were still happy for him. That annoying part of yourself that was a touch too sentimental. Of course it wasn’t that simple, though. McLaren locked out the front row, Oscar starting on P2.

It was obvious to anyone he was hungry. For more, like any other driver but there was simply something different about the way Oscar had been carrying himself lately. After the complicated first win he had in Hungary, the world knew he still felt like he had to prove himself. That wins didn’t have to be handed to him.

You watched, nervous and hands sweating with the heavy headphones over your ears. The drivers had just finished their warm up lap, filing into position. Your eyes flicked between the two McLaren’s, a whole range of complex emotions eating you up inside over the pair of them.

Those red lights lit up one by one, then pouring out of the headphones the infamous words “It’s lights out and away we go!” Engines roared, your jaw fell open.

Oscar overtook Lando’s lead into turn one.

Charles had won, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy for him. A Ferrari driver on top of the podium in Monza was always a sight to behold.

Your breath was held tightly in your lungs however as you watched the Tifosi flood onto the track because there was a bit of commotion going on after the initial post-race interviews of the top three drivers. Oscar finished P2, Lando finished about six seconds behind him and landed P3.

The two McLaren drivers had come to an abrupt stop in the hallway that lead up to the cool down room, their shouting could be heard in the garage despite the roar of the crowd outside. Your stomach dropped, you could barely see them but that didn’t matter. Lando was the main one yelling, Oscar on the other hand had a calm rage about him, his voice sounding more cold than you had ever thought him capable of.

The team looked around awkwardly for a few moments before someone ran to go get Andrea Stella. Not a moment later the team principal threw off his headphones and ran to try and diffuse the situation.

You stood there against the wall, acutely aware of all the cameras that may be filming into the garage. Knowing Netflix was about to have a field day with this. The season had been so messy, and that wasn’t even in regard to your own issues with the drivers but the grid in total.

Messy. What a simple word for such fucked up situations.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

A WEEK AGO, ZANDVOORT

He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Not as he had recklessly driven back to the hotel, not as you rode up the elevator, not as you two stumbled down the hallway to his hotel room. The moment it was in sight he had pushed you against the door, forgetting he was supposed to unlock it first but his mind was on other things.

The feeling of your mouth against his, your nails dragging against his scalp, the way your chest pushed against his in an attempt to get closer. He was consumed by you, not quite believing this was real. Years, he had dreamed about this moment for years. The longing he had felt about getting to touch you like this had driven him to the brink of insanity. He was terrified if he took his hands off you, you’d disappear. That he would wake up alone again in bed, hating what his life had come to despite the building success of his career.

Oscar pressed your body onto the door further, completely covering you with his own body, every nerve ending on fire with a desperate need to be close to you. His hips pressed into yours, a hand cupping your throat while the other tugged at your shirt in a fit of desperation to get at your skin.

Call it demented or sick, but at that moment he wanted to consume you. And he wanted you to do the same to him, to devour him in any way you so pleased.

His tongue danced against yours, teeth hitting and the sounds being made were vulgar but only sent him into a further frenzy. You were right here, giving in as well and he felt like his heart was about to explode.

“Bed,” you gasped out in between kisses barely finding a moment for air.

He didn’t take his mouth off you as he haphazardly dug in his pocket for his wallet, shoving it against the sensor and hoping it would pick up on the hotel key. Not a moment later there was a click and he pushed the door open, one arm wrapping around your waist as he backed you into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He picked you up, a surprised gasp leaving your lips as he did so. Instead of depositing you on the bed, he sat you down on the desk, arm swiping out and not caring what he knocked over.

His strong hands grabbed at your waist, yanking you to the edge of the bed and his erection pressed snuggly into you. He shuddered at the contact, feeling delirious.

Oscar needed to see you, all of you. Now. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and began to lift. “Arms up,” his voice was soft but commanding, and the blush dusting your face was something he wanted imprinted in his mind for forever.

You did as told, the fabric sliding up and over your head. The shirt fell to the floor soundlessly, his hands resting on your hips as he marvelled at you. Your bra was white cotton, no padding and due to the rain the fabric was practically see through. Hiding nothing and making your hardened nipples stand out. He groaned, not being able to help himself as he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to each one.

“Oscar,” your voice was shy, timid and shaky. He looked up at you, watching with apt attention how you bit your lip and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. “Listen, I know I might not look like a lot of the other-“

He cut you off, grabbing hold of your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. His expression was stern. “There’s no one else I want this with. Okay? No one, not even as I’m rotting in the earth will there ever be anyone else.” His calloused hands cupped your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped out of your pretty eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, taking in every minuscule detail that made up your face.

You tugged on his shirt this time and he quickly rid himself of it for you, the cool air of the hotel room hitting his skin. He watched as your eyes raked over him, every line of muscle that adorned his stomach, to his neck, then his face.

“This is wrong.” You said quietly, even as your fingers hooked into his belt loops and tugged him into you again.

“Probably,” he said in return, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders before undoing the clasp at the back, watching in adoration as it fell away from you. “But I’ve dreamt of this for years and it’s going to take a nuclear bomb to stop me from fucking you, Angel. I hope you know that.”

Your breath hitched and he blinked before you were pulling him down to meet your wanting mouth again, moaning into the kiss as he began to undo the button and zipper on your pants. The moment felt so surreal. If this did turn out to be a dream, when he woke up he was genuinely considering killing himself. He wouldn’t be able to live with the torment any longer.

He smacked your ass lightly and you yelped, getting the hint and lifting your hips for him so he could slide your pants off. Oscar fell to knees and he tugged off your shoes, then your pants, looking up at you like a deprived man seeking salvation at the altar. You chest was heaving and he watched in fascination the way your breast moved and your ribs expanded. Your pupils were blown wide and hungry.

He placed a hand on each of your knees, slowly pulling them apart as he kept eye contact. Oscar placed hot, open mouthed kisses as he danced up your thigh, closer and closer to where he knew you needed him most. The white cotton of your panties giving off a twisted sense of innocence that made him even more hard, if possible. The white fabric made it easy to tell how wet you were and he could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears knowing that it was all for him. Moving closer, he pressed a warm kiss on your navel, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume and he knew he would die a happy man after this.

Next, he placed a kiss right onto your clit, finding it blindly through your underwear.

You yelped at the contact, hips thrusting up into his face and he couldn’t help but smile. His grin surely wicked as he looked up at you through heavy lidded, lust filled eyes.

You swallowed roughly, “Oscar, please.”

He kissed you again, savouring the taste of you and how drenched your panties were, working you through the thin cotton as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Oh my god,” your voice was a whine, your nails digging into his scalp. The pain of it quickly fizzled into pleasure though as he moaned into you, mouth following along with your desperate thrusts.

“Please.” You panted, “I need you, Oscar.”

He pulled back, feeling hazy and in utter bliss. “How badly?”

“So fucking much.”

Oscar ripped your underwear off you, leaving red marks where the fabric had snagged against your skin. With one hand splaying against your stomach, he pushed you backward until your back hit the window, neither of you caring who saw. Fuck, you were stunning. Swollen and glistening for him, practically dripping out into his lap with how wet you were.

He could feel your heart beat as he got closer before looking up at you, watching to see your face when he finally tasted you. Lowering himself, he licked long and flat up your cunt, moaning along with you as you trembled violently, your hands digging into his hair to pull him closer.

One arm reached around your thigh, fingers dancing across your hip before he pulled the skin above your pussy taught, exposing you to him fully to get unobstructed access to your clit. With his other hand, he pushed your other knee up and out, wanting you as exposed as possible. He knew there was a mirror behind him, so before he dove back in like a man starved, his rough voice carried out around the room. “Look at yourself.”

You shook your head, clearly embarrassed. “Oscar—“

“If you stop or if you close your eyes, I’ll stop.”

You pouted, the sight devastatingly adorable and he wanted to bite at your lip but he had other things on his list first. He didn’t move until your eyes hesitantly moved to the mirror behind him, breath hitching at the sight of him kneeling between your thighs.

Oscar’s mouth latched onto your clit, sucking harshly but slowly, the paired strokes of his tongue deliberate, and without warrant a shout left your lips. You had smacked a hand over your mouth, but he quickly tugged your hand away, he wanted to hear you.

Hands returning back to his hair, he watched you as you watched yourself come undone against his mouth. Your jaw falling open as two of his thick fingers sunk into your pussy, instantly clenching around him. He must really have amazing self control because he felt like he could cum in his pants then and there.

“So fucking warm,” he said against you, lapping at your clit as your thighs trembled. “And tight, for me.” His fingers set an unrelenting pace, curling up in a come hither motion and he knew he was dragging the pads of his fingers against your g-spot with the way you were screaming his name.

“Oscar!” You threw your head back against the window, still obeying him and keeping your eyes on the mirror. Your hips rutting into his mouth and fingers, desperate for a release.

Your voice sounded like church bells to him and he added another finger, three digits fucking you at a relentless pace. He felt your stomach tighten, fingers clenching around him. You were breathless as you forced the words out, there was even some drool starting to leak from your lips. “I’m— I’m going—“

“Come for me, Angel. Give me all of it.” He didn’t stop, not even as liquid started to spurt out of your pussy, coating his lips and chin as he continued his relentless licking and sucking on your clit, not stopping the thrusting of his fingers and you screamed and clamped your thighs around his head, being sent into absolute overdrive as you twitched against him. Your orgasm was violent, and he wasn’t letting up.

“Oscar, oh my god.” Your voice was hoarse and rough, followed by another orgasm that completely shattered you as you convulsed against him. He was a moaning mess, pre-cum soaking through his boxers and trousers. You yanked his head back by his hair and he let go of your clit with a resounding pop.

“Greedy.” You teased through panting breaths, a delirious smile on your face and he couldn’t help but share it.

“You taste like heaven.” He leaned in again, gently licking a long stripe up your entrance, collecting whatever wasn’t on his face or on the floor. You shuddered against him as he placed a light kiss against your clit.

He watched as you stood up on trembling legs, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs as he stared up at you from where he was, still on his knees. Your fingers brushed his hair back from his eyes, taking in his face and swollen lips, but his brows started to furrow as your eyes began to water.

“What’s wrong?” He said quietly, pulling you to him so he was hugging you around your legs, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you.

Shaking your head, you wiped the tears away and smiled. “I’m happy. And I’m mad we waited so long.”

“Yeah,” Oscar said softly, giving you a warm smile as he slowly stood up, his fingers dragging up your body as he went. He cupped your throat with both hands as he got to his feet, pressing his thumbs up under your chin to tilt your face to him. He kissed you gently, yet there was still a rough desperation underlined in it. “It’s a good thing I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

Your eyes glowed, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, turning you and backing you up slowly till the back of your knees hit the bed and he lightly shoved you onto the mattress. He watched you carefully as he began to undo his belt, watching as your eyes traced down his toned stomach, down his happy trail, and to the obvious bulge in his trousers.

“What do you have in mind?” Your voice was timid, but clearly excited as you then sucked in a sharp breath as he took off his trousers and boxers in one go, his cock twitching at the cool air in the room and the tip was glistening and red.

“Oh, Angel.” He walked forward, slowly climbing over you and parted your thighs with his knee. He lowered his face, nipping at your neck gently before his hot breath danced over your ear. “I’m going to ruin you.”

He took hold of himself, dragging the tip up and down your entrance and he just about came undone there and then. This had to last, he needed it to last.

Oscar’s eyes locked onto yours before he sunk in, burying himself to the hilt and a loud groan left him while you moaned, throwing your head back against the sheets. You were devine. Warm, wet, already spasming around him. He was losing his hold on his sanity as he slowly pulled back out, then slammed back into you with a brutal thrust.

“I hate that he got to fucking touch you.” The words had slipped out before he realised what he had said. But he meant every syllable.

“I know,” you gasped out, nails dragging against his back, surely leaving red streak marks but he didn’t care.

Oscar had driven himself mad knowing that Lando got to see you like this. Got to feel what it was like to have you wrapped around his cock. Haunted by the thought of his teammate making you cum. Horrified by the thought of you screaming Lando’s name.

He didn’t realise it, but a hand had wrapped around your throat, choking you as he fucked you with next to no gentleness. Bottoming out each time, his other hand taking hold of one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, needing to go deeper.

You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he hit your cervix over and over again.

“I thought of you every time he touched me,” the cruel admission left your lips. Both of you were horrible, awful people. Yet neither seemed to care as your teeth sunk into his forearm that was next to your head, tears slipping out of your eyes as you screamed. His pace was brutal, unrelentless. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room and an animalistic groan left him and you clenched around his cock.

Oscar turned you both so you were facing the mirror, his hand that was choking you tilting your head back so you could watch him fuck you upside down. “I’ve gotten myself off every week to thought of fucking you like this. Anywhere. Of bending you over the sink. Fucking you in the shower. In my driver’s room before a race. I’d fuck you in front of the whole paddock if I could.”

You choked out a cry, blood rushing to your head from the lack of oxygen. He knew you liked the filth he was muttering due how hard you were clenching around him, your hips going up to meet his thrusts.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Coming around my cock as everyone watched. Knowing Lando would be watching as I made a mess of you.”

“I’m going to come,” you cried, coughing violently afterward. He may have gotten ahead of himself as he pulled his hand away, noticing a red hand mark on your throat. But the sight only spurred him on further, his hand dancing between your bodies before finding your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.

He felt your orgasm before he heard you. Your cunt clamped down onto his cock, screaming his name as you convulsed. God, you were ethereal.

His thrusts became sloppy and unorganised, one hand holding your hip and yanking you down onto him as the other continued its agonising circled on your clit.

Oscar cried out your name as he came, yanking you all the way down on his cock as his cum spilled hotly into you, filling you up in such a primal way it made another wave of pleasure shoot through him.

He collapsed on top of you, both your bodies sweaty and he began peppering kisses across your face. Kissing your tears away and muttering mine between each.

Oscar was still buried deep inside you, holding his release in and he never wanted to move. Your chest heaved, slowly coming down from your high. He felt your arms move before your hands gently took hold of his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours.

Messy trails of mascara ran down your cheeks, painting a beautiful picture of ruin in front of him. If his muscles weren’t so tired, he would’ve reached for his phone to take a picture.

“Oscar,” your voice was a whisper.

He hummed, lifting a hand up to gently tug at your bottom lip with his thumb. You seemed hesitant, searching his gaze for something. But he didn’t need to be given any hints.

“I love you,” he said the words against your lips. He said them again against your forehead. Again as he kissed each of your eye lids. Your nose.

You started to cry again, a grin stretching at your lips as you spoke the words that sealed his fate, “I love you.”

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

MONZA

You shut the door softly behind you, looking at his back as he leaned over to untie his shoes.

Clearing your throat, Lando sat up and turned, raising a brow at you. “Yeah?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you considered how there was no hello. No smile, though you weren’t expecting much of one. Sure, he scored a podium, but it wasn’t enough.

You stood there and stared at him for a moment. Genuinely wondering why he had even asked you out in the first place. What was the point? Then again, you shouldn’t have said yes in the first place.

Sighing, you brought out your keys and took off the one he gave you to his flat in Monaco.

His eyes widened, realising quickly what was happening and he stood up, crossing the room and taking hold of your hands to halt the finality of your actions. “Hey, what’s going on?” Lando cupped your chin, bringing your eyes up to his. “Talk to me, baby.”

Despite everything, you still felt guilty. Your mind couldn’t help but wander over all of his sweet moments with you. Because he could be, he could be really fucking sweet. Romantic even. But he was also really fucking awful sometimes. Mean, even.

Your brows furrowed, taking hold of his wrist. “We both know I’m not what you want.” You looked at his eyes, how stunningly green they were and curious how he was able to look at you in such adoration sometimes. “And we both know I know about the other girls.”

Lando clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering shut as the words were finally out. Sure, he may actually want you. He just didn’t only want you. Besides, you knew you were in no place to pass judgement anymore. With your other hand, you brushed a thumb over his cheek bone, his eyes then opening. Looking at you in confusion, not understanding why you weren’t angry. Not understanding why you were being so… understanding.

With a small sigh, you kissed him softly on the cheek before dropping his key into his hands. He didn’t stop looking at you, and maybe you were reading too much into it, but he nearly looked sad.

“Bye, Lando.”

And you left.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

AZERBAIJAN, BAKU

The thick rug that ran down the middle of the hallway muted your footsteps as you walked. You had flown home during the small break between the last race and the one that’s tomorrow. You hadn’t been able to see Oscar, though you had texted a few times.

You came to a stop outside of his door, you hadn’t told him when you were coming back. He understood you needed a break.

Stealing your breath, you knocked on the door once. The sharp sound echoing down the long hallway. Muffled sounds came from the other side of the door before it opened, Oscar blinking at you in surprise before he grinned at you.

He was so effortlessly handsome, wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his muscles perfectly and a pair of grey sweats. You licked your lips, mouth feeling dry and looked down at your shoes.

“Angel?”

“I broke up with Lando.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard him step forward, his warm and rough hands holding your face, tilting your face up to his. The look on his face, it was hard to put distinct words to it but the look of hope in his eyes made your knees weak.

“What?”

“I broke up with him.” Your breathing was uneven, and despite everything, doubts still lingered in your brain. “And you’re under no obligation to—“

Oscar pulled you to him, kissing you with such urgency your head spun.

You smiled into his mouth, “I’m all yours.”

He picked you up, looking at you with heaven in his eyes, carrying you into the room and shutting the door behind him.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

Lando watched as champagne sprayed out and over the podium, watching Oscar laugh and smile as he got drenched with the Australian flag glowing above the top step. Despite his annoyance, he couldn’t hate him. His teammate was a good driver and a good person.

All of Lando’s karma was finally catching up to him, but he clapped anyway. Smiled for photos. Patted Oscar on the shoulder in congratulations, who in turn looked at him sceptically before eventually giving him a small smile.

A tiny truce.

After the crowd had died down, Lando had grappled with his consciousness for a while before forcing himself to go to Oscar’s room. He could at least try to make some sort of amends. They were going to be teammates for a while; they might as well try and get along. Water under the bridge.

He knocked on the door, he didn’t hear a response but slight muffled shuffling. He rolled his eyes, they needed to get this conversation out of the way or else Lando wasn’t sure he’d pluck up the courage again. Plus, he was sure Oscar was in a good mood after a win.

Testing the handle, the door clicked and he pushed it open, mouth opening to say something when he suddenly froze at the sight before him.

You were sitting up on the dresser, Oscar standing between your legs and his hands under your shirt, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your desperation was palpable, hands buried in the Aussie’s hair and moaning into his mouth.

Lando blinked a few times, his mouth dry and feeling as if he’d vomit. Quickly and quietly, he shut the door and started to walk away. His pace brisk, trying not to cause a scene and run.

He knew he was in absolutely no position to feel upset over this, but he couldn’t help it. He did. He knew he had fucked up. Fucked up a wonderful opportunity you had given him. You were perfect in every sense of the word, but he had been too caught up in his ego to give a shit if he fumbled one of the best things life had tried to offer him. Right after you left his hotel room in Monza, he sat there staring at the key he had given you for a pathetically long time as a cold wave of reality slammed into him.

Not sure why, but his feet brought him to Red Bull’s section of the paddock, eyes searching desperately for Max. He was always someone he could talk to, even in the worst circumstances the Dutch man somehow always knew what to say.

After a few frantic minutes of searching, he finally found Max and called out to him. His friend turned, raising a brow at the look on Lando’s face. He probably looked insane. Max crossed his arms as he approached, not looking all too thrilled at seeing him. Which wasn’t a surprise. The entire grid wasn’t a fan of his behaviour in regards to women, Max especially given everything that had happened with Kelly and Daniil.

“Can we talk?” He asked.

Max eyed him over for a moment before nodding, guiding him back to his room. He sat on the edge of the counter, not saying anything but looked at Lando expectantly.

Lando bit the side of his cheek, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I fucked up.”

Max let out a long breath through his nose, his eye brows rising. “You’re realising this now?”

Sighing, Lando considered how to move forward. “Look I know it was dumb but can you really blame—Fuck!” His eyes began to water and his hand went up to cover his now bleeding nose. Staring at his friend in bewilderment as his head began to pound with pain.

Max had just punched him.

“You are such a fucking dumbass, Lando.” Max was practically yelling at him, not caring that the sound hurt the Brit’s head.

“I just walked in on her and Oscar practically fucking! They’ve probably been doing it behind my back all this time, anyway—“

Max looked like he wanted to deck him again. “Get over yourself! How does that even begin to justify the countless women you were screwing around with behind her back all these months.” Lando went to open his mouth but Max held up his hand. “I have never in all my years even considered doing that to someone, let alone Kelly.”

Lando grew quiet, slumping against the wall, not caring that blood was dripping down his face and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes till stars appeared. “I know, I fucked up,” his voice cracked as he spoke. “I can’t justify it. And I can’t explain it, but I really feel like I’ve had a wake up call, mate.” He laughed ruefully, looking up at the ceiling. “She’s so perfect and I just— I fucked her over.”

Max considered his friend for a long moment. He hated him for what he did to you, but he still cared about him. “I’m not saying you can fix this, nor do I think there is anything to even fix. But you need to apologise to her. But I need you to understand this,” he stepped towards Lando, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t need to forgive you. I don’t even think she should. But she deserves a proper apology from you. Get down on your knees and cry for all I care.” With one last pointed look, Max walked over to his door and gestured an arm out. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

That night at the club the team had picked to celebrate Oscar’s win, Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you. He held his drink, still full and ice long ago melted as he watched you dance. The multicolour lights painting you in a beautiful image.

He waved off multiple girls who approached, not even an inkling of interest igniting in his chest. His heart for some reason set on torturing himself as he watching how Oscar held onto you possessively, never letting you go and with stars in his eyes.

He had known the whole time Oscar was in love with you, and it gave him a screwed up thrill to know you were with him instead. He didn’t know what was wrong with him sometimes, but he regretted everything. Not like it mattered. You looked properly happy for once and Lando realised you had never looked at him that way.

Another girl came up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder and smiling seductively.

All he could see was you, though. Looking at him one last time before kissing him on the cheek and leaving. Shrugging the girl off, he called it an early night and left.

Despite everything, how he treated you, Lando came to a crushing realisation and he felt his lungs stop working.

He was in love with you.

୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨

landonorris

liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,436,097 others

landonorris smile. 🏆

*tap to load more comments*

userone: LESGOOO

usertwo: singapore looks good on you!

userthree: anyone find it odd how unhappy he’s looked lately? even when he wins

userfour: anyone see those leaked photos of oscar and lando’s ex?

| userfive: YESS they were making out in front of some pub in london

| usersix: WILLDDDD

youruser: congratulations lando 🥳

❤️ by author

landonorris: thank you, love ❤️

| userseven: i’m so lost 😭

[merakiui]

Adding onto step bro Skully (✦ ‿ ✦) imagine step bro needing to talk himself in and out of peeking into the wash room while she's bathing. That would be creepy right??? B-but seeing the outline of your naked form would be really nice. Putting a body image into that lingerie would quell just enough...surely. And finally he sneaks a peek, just opening the door enough to see in without you noticing too much, to see you in the submerged in the bath chest barely covered and legs propped upwards out of the bath only bubbles covering part of your body while your head is laid back clearly enjoying your time.

WAAA YES!!! >w< he thinks it’s such a delightful sight. The bubbles allow his very vivid imagination to fill in the blanks, providing him with all kinds of lewd thoughts. You look so peaceful relaxing in the warm bath. If only he could be there in the bath with you… aaa,,, but maybe that’s too weird. You’re both grown and he’s way too tall. >_< he’d take up too much space with his awkward, lanky limbs. But it’d be so romantic to bathe together, to take turns washing the other, to enjoy floral scented baths, to have you lean against his chest and fall asleep right there, comforted in his embrace!!!! AAAAA OTL he has to turn away from the door before he accidentally falls in or makes any sounds from the amount of swooning he’s doing. ;;;

Skully doesn’t intend to become a thief, but he can’t help swiping some of your panties for himself. You’ll never notice they’re gone. He just,,, needs them. He likes how soft they are wrapped around his dick; he likes thinking about how these same panties definitely touched that soft pussy of yours…… in a way, isn’t this just indirect sex?!?! \(//∇//)\ sometimes he’ll spray your perfume on his sheets or pillows just to fall asleep in your pretty smell, imagining you spread out on his bed, inviting him to join you…. it’s a dream that’s so delightfully intimate that he wakes with an aching hard-on. :( the sad reality is that it’s only just a dream.

Sometimes he creeps into your room just to watch you sleep. Maybe he even sleeps under your bed or in the closet… tucking himself away so that when morning comes he can watch you do your daily routine. He can watch you dress yourself, do your makeup, bend over to pick up dirty laundry……… he knows it’s poor manners and he knows you’ll think he’s a gross, pathetic creep, but sometimes he gets hard watching you and one time it was so bad he just had to slowly pump himself to the sight of you going through pretty outfits for a night out with friends. The lacy panties, the lewd bras, the dresses and skirts, the cute tops… you’re so pretty,,, such a beautiful darling. His dear stepsister… he could admire you forever, burn this image into his brain and let it remain there for all of eternity.

Skully wants nothing more than to plaster you to the bed and fuck into you slow and sweet, watching your tits jiggle with every thrust, watching your hazy expression twist with pleasure, listening to the soft gasps that spill from parted lips!!! He has to bite down hard on his lip so you won’t hear his whimper when he cums into an old pair of panties he found lying haphazardly in the back of your closet.

Or when the two of you watch movies together!! These are the moments Skully looks forward to the most. Movie nights with you are special, sacred times. You bond over horror films and, of course, the nightly rewatch of his favorite: The Nightmare Before Christmas. But sometimes you’ll watch a movie and a sex scene will come on, and he’s so incredibly awkward throughout the entire thing. He keeps stealing glances at you, wondering what you’re thinking about. If he lets his mind wander, it’s you he sees on the screen. He imagines himself in those positions with you: pressing you against a window, bending you over a surface, lying back and watching you lower yourself onto his dick…… he fidgets with the pillow placed over his lap. He’d die if you saw his erection straining against his trousers. >_<

But sometimes he just wants to take you to dinner and court you properly like a gentleman from Victorian times. He probably writes lots of poetry about you. You’re his favorite thing next to Jack Skellington and everything NBC. He idolizes you. <3

[rafecamerons-national-anthem]

𝒞𝐻𝐸𝑀𝐼𝒮𝒯𝑅𝒴-𝒟𝑅𝐸𝒲 𝒮𝒯𝒜𝑅𝒦𝐸𝒴

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪 Drew Starkey and Y/N’s romance ignites the moment they meet at an audition, each drawn to the other by a magnetic connection that feels like fate. As they’re cast as romantic leads in Love Amongst the Lines, their on screen chemistry mirrors the real bond blossoming between them.

✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮♥✮

The moment their eyes met across the crowded room at the audition, it was as if time had stopped. His heart skipped a beat as he took in her radiant smile and the way her eyes sparkled with excitement. She felt a warmth spread through her body, the kind she had only read about in her favorite romance novels.

Drew, a rising star in the film industry, had seen countless faces in his auditions, but none had ever captivated him quite like hers. Y/N, on the other hand, was a newcomer to the world of acting, her passion for the craft burning brightly and her nerves jangling like a thousand bells.

Their hands trembled as they reached out to shake for the first time, the electricity between them palpable. "Hi, I'm Drew," he murmured, his Southern drawl sending shivers down her spine. "And I'm Y/N," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's so nice to finally meet you in person."

Drew couldn't help but feel that this was more than just a chance encounter. The chemistry between them was undeniable, a force that seemed to pull them closer together despite the chaotic environment. They exchanged nervous laughs as they talked about their shared love for the art of storytelling and the thrill of bringing characters to life.

As the audition process rolled on, they found themselves stealing glances at each other between takes, each one more meaningful than the last. It was during a break in filming that Drew mustered the courage to ask her out for coffee, hoping to get to know her better outside of the intense pressure of the audition room.

"You know," he began, his voice a little shaky, "I think we could really make a great team." Y/N felt her cheeks flush at his words, the hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I'd love that," she replied, her voice filled with hope and excitement.

Their first date was nothing short of magical. They talked for hours about their dreams, their fears, and the movies that had inspired them to pursue acting. The connection grew stronger with each shared laugh and secret revealed. It was as if they had known each other for a lifetime rather than a few short hours.

As they walked back to the studio the next day, the air was charged with anticipation. They had both received the news that they had been cast in the lead roles of the upcoming romantic comedy, "Love Amongst the Lines." Their hearts raced as they thought about the journey they were about to embark on together, not just as co stars, but as a couple whose love had blossomed in the most unexpected of places.

The first day on set was a whirlwind of activity. The director, a seasoned veteran with a keen eye for talent, noticed the palpable energy between them and knew that their real-life romance would translate beautifully onto the screen. As they rehearsed their scenes, Drew couldn't help but feel a thrill every time he was close to Y/N. Her touch, her scent, her laugh, it was all so intoxicating.

Their on screen chemistry was undeniable. The way their eyes met, the way their fingers brushed against each other's, and the way they delivered their lines as if they had been written just for them. It was clear to everyone on set that this was more than just acting, it was true love unfolding before their very eyes.

But as the days turned into weeks and the script grew more intimate, Drew and Y/N began to feel the weight of their newfound feelings. Was it possible to keep their personal lives separate from their professional ones? Could they handle the scrutiny of the media and the demands of the film industry? Or would their love story be nothing more than a fleeting moment in the spotlight?

Their conversations grew more serious as they grappled with these questions. Yet, every time they looked into each other's eyes, all doubts disappeared. They knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they had found something special, something worth fighting for.

And so, as the cameras rolled and their characters fell in love, Drew and Y/N couldn't help but feel that their own love story was playing out alongside the script. With each kiss they shared, each tender moment they created, they fell a little deeper. The lines between reality and fiction blurred, leaving only the raw, unfiltered emotion that came with falling in love for the first time.

"Cut!" the director yelled, snapping them out of their daze. They pulled back, their faces flushed and their hearts racing. The crew around them applauded, but their minds were elsewhere.

"That was…amazing," Drew whispered, his gaze never leaving hers. Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck. "You really brought it to life," she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Their relationship grew stronger as the filming progressed, each intimate scene only serving to strengthen the bond between them. Off screen, they found themselves rehearsing their lines together, discussing character motivations and plot points, but mostly just lost in each other's company. It was as if the universe had conspired to bring them together, and now they were inseparable.

But with every public appearance and interview, the pressure mounted. They had to be careful not to let their real feelings show, to keep the magic of their budding romance contained within the confines of the set. The paparazzi were relentless, searching for any hint of scandal or a juicy storyline to sell to the tabloids. Yet, they remained steadfast, choosing to keep their love a secret from the prying eyes of the world.

One evening, after a particularly grueling day of shooting, they found refuge in a quiet corner of the set. The lights had dimmed, and the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. Drew took her hand in his, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "You know," he said, his voice barely audible, "I never thought I'd find this kind of connection on a movie set."

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with emotion. "Neither did I," she confessed. "But here we are."

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss, a kiss that spoke volumes about the depth of their feelings. It was a moment that seemed to exist outside of time, a secret shared between the two of them amidst the chaos of production.

As the weeks turned into months, they grew more comfortable with each other, their love story weaving itself into the very fabric of the film. And though they knew the end of filming would bring an end to their shared secret, they were determined to make the most of every moment.

But little did they know, the universe had more surprises in store for them. As the final scenes were shot and the director called for the last take, the cast and crew gathered around to congratulate them. The whispers grew louder as rumors of their off-screen romance began to spread. And when the cameras stopped rolling, it was no longer just their characters who had to navigate the choppy waters of love and fame, it was Drew and Y/N themselves.

Their gazes held, filled with a mix of excitement and trepidation. They had taken a chance on love in the most unlikely of places, and now they were about to find out if their love story could survive the glare of the spotlight.

The premiere of "Love Amongst the Lines" was a star studded affair, with the who's who of Hollywood eagerly awaiting the debut of the film's dynamic new couple. Drew and Y/N walked the red carpet together, their arms entwined, every step a silent declaration of their feelings for each other. The flashes of cameras and the screams of fans only served to amplify the butterflies in their stomachs.

As they took their seats inside the theater, Drew leaned over to whisper in Y/N's ear. "Remember, we're in this together." She nodded, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. The lights dimmed, the film began, and their love story played out before an enraptured audience. Each shared glance, each tender touch, each whispered "I love you" resonated with an honesty that could not be faked.

After the credits rolled and the applause died down, they held their breath as the reviews began to pour in. Critics raved about their on screen chemistry, dubbing them the new "It" couple of the industry. But amidst the glitz and glamour, they held onto each other tightly, knowing that the real magic was in the love they had found off screen.

Their relationship became the talk of the town, with fans eagerly following every detail of their blossoming romance. Interviewers threw in sly questions about their real-life counterparts to the characters they played, hoping to catch a glimpse of the truth. Yet, Drew and Y/N remained professional, always giving just enough to keep the mystery alive.

Through the press junkets and the award season, they grew more in love with each passing day. Their secret had become their shield, allowing them to keep their relationship pure and untouched by the often harsh realities of the entertainment business.

But as the whispers grew louder and the rumors more insistent, they knew they couldn't hide forever. The time had come to decide if they were ready to take the next step, to share their love with the world and see if it could withstand the scrutiny of the public eye.

Their hearts pounding in unison, they made the choice to go public. Hand in hand, they faced the media, their love for each other shining brighter than any Hollywood spotlight. The announcement sent shockwaves through the industry, but Drew and Y/N only had eyes for each other, their bond unshakeable amidst the chaos.

The journey ahead was uncertain, fraught with challenges they had never imagined when they first met in that crowded audition room. But as they looked into each other's eyes, they knew that together, they could conquer anything that came their way.

Their love story had become a real life fairytale, and as they stepped out into the world as a couple, ready to face whatever came next, they had one thing in common with their on screen counterparts, they were ready to write their own destiny.

[holybibly]

i’m literally so obsessed with your work 😭

could you possibly do some sort of shiburi/toy play with san?

i would literally die if you did 😩

Bunnies, I haven't been as active lately as I'd like to be, but today I'm here and Unholy Hours are back on the air.

Hmm, I haven't tried shibari yet, but San is too attractive for me to give up the idea.

"Tied up like that, you look so divine. I can't take my eyes off you, my angel; the way the ropes leave marks on your delicate skin is driving me insane." San practically purrs into your neck before he pulls away from you. No matter how tempting you look at the moment, he is going to have to be patient. He has the whole of the night in front of him, and you are completely in his power.

The soft rope whispers and snakes across your bare skin, hot as sin, each intricate loop pressing tightly against your body, leaving exquisite marks. Through the soft lace of your blindfold, you couldn't see the pattern that San was creating today, but you could imagine each intricate knot being wrapped around your body, all of them evenly spaced and perfectly tied.

In San's eyes, you were nothing less than a work of art.

San left your hands free, but you didn't dare move them. You knew that if you started to squirm or tried to rub your throbbing clit, the slow glide of the rope over your skin would stop immediately. San didn't like it when his princess was disobedient, especially when he was making her beautiful for himself. Of all the dolls he so desperately wanted to play with, you were the most beautiful.

You could feel the rope sliding down just below your chest and then tightening around your rib cage. The slight tension of the rope around you makes your breathing harder and more labored, and heat begins to build in your lower abdomen as you feel the rope digging into your skin. It starts to get wet between the folds of your pussy and you know that soon you are going to start dripping.

The tension of the ropes is perfect; there is nothing to put you in any danger. San always knew how to treat you properly.

"Black is your color, my angel." San purred again, but this time his voice was a little more husky and sultry, like that of a big, contented cat. "But you already had that knowledge, didn't you?"

"Yes, I know that, Daddy."

"This is my angel, all mine." He circles around you like a predator on the prowl.

You smile shyly at his praise as he gently runs his fingers over your round, flushed cheek and then leans down to give you a kiss. You lift your face to meet San's soft lips halfway.

You can hardly remember how it all started. You just woke up one day with the thought that you had to have him, even if you had to hide all the delicious marks on your body that San kindly left on your skin after each 'game'. It's so stupid, such a terrible cliché, like in the most naive of romantic films: a rich, gloomy boy and an innocent nerd who was supposed to be his tutor, but instead San ended up being the one who taught you.

And if San wanted to get you tied up and exposed in the most vulgar of ways tonight, you'd obey whatever he wanted. He would be able to throw you down on the floor and fuck you into the parquet, and you would be grateful to him for it.

San pulls away from your lips, leaving you wanting more, and you lean forward as if in pursuit of his love. He just chuckles at you and holds your cheeks as he straightens up. His feline eyes are soft, but they hide a dark desire.

"You're so in need of me, angel." He coos in a loving way. "Do you want my lips, my fingers, or my cock so badly, little princess?" San muses and uses his thumb to smear some saliva over your plump lower lip. He lifts your head up again, and you give him a kiss on the thumb.

"I'll take anything you give me, Daddy." You whimper softly.

"Such a good girl." San senses how much you need to be touched, worshipped, and played with, and he is more than happy to satisfy your needs.

His warm hands begin to slide down the length of your body. San runs his fingers along the textured rope, just feeling and enjoying the sensations, gently rubbing against your skin under the tight tangle of ropes, leaving ghostly warm marks where they touch your skin.

Your skin tingles where the hot texture snakes into a pattern, and you feel another loop begin to slide across your body. You still can't make out what kind of pattern San is tying around you, but you can tell he's creating something like a corset. Each loop of rope lies directly under the previous one, with the knots neatly tied in the center of your torso. Each knot is more intricate than the one before it, and it probably frames your body in the most beautiful way possible.

There will be a brief tug on the rope before the pressure is released and the next knot is tied around you.

San's hot breath kisses the skin of your bare shoulder, and you moan softly, rubbing your thighs lightly against each other in the hope that it will ease your excitement.

"You are so beautiful, my angel." He whispers in your ear in a low voice. "I love seeing you like this—all bound up and just for me. You were made for this—to be adorned and decorated by my hands. You are my very own little masterpiece, Princess."

The praise licks over your body like fire and pools in a liquid, viscous warmth between your thighs. You have the feeling you're even wetter, if that's even possible. Your breathing is getting harder; the thought of how beautiful you look to San turns you on, and perhaps it might not last as long as you'd like, but right now you're perfect for him, and that's all that matters. These thoughts cause you to rub your thighs against each other again, desperate for any kind of friction that might help you ease the aching excitement in your cunt.

San digs his hands into the soft flesh of your thighs and spreads them apart with a growl. He doesn't want you to cum too soon; you've just started playing. His strong, slightly rough hands slide over your thick thighs and then brush lightly against the wet, slippery folds of your pussy, allowing you to enjoy some pressure where you need it so much, your hips rocking as you ride his palm. Excitement drips from your hole like a waterfall and spreads over San's palm.

You whine pitifully as his hand leaves you and San goes back to tying knots on your body, and you stay like that—horny to the max and in need of some relief.

"Shhh, angel, it's okay. You are a good little princess, and Daddy will give you anything you want. Now sit still and let me make you beautiful. Let me make you so perfect for me, my angel."

You obediently freeze in place, the world around you blurring as you melt under his praise. San's voice is so deep and calm, but you hear those hot, dark notes in it that tell you he is just as horny as you are. In his arms, you always feel like sex personified, as San does whatever he wants to your body, molding it to suit his own desires and kinks.

You feel the last loop around your waist before the remaining rope runs down your soft belly, the slightly rough texture rubbing nicely against your skin. The tightness of the rope prevents you from thinking; all thoughts fade as you let the fuzzy sensation in your stomach from being bound spread through your mind. Your fall into subspace is slow and gradual, and your breathing is deepening as if you were on the verge of sleep. San is skilled at luring you deeper and deeper into a web of lust and depravity.

San's hot hands squeeze your thigh, lightly scratching it with his nails before he wraps the rope around it. It's so hard for you to maintain any kind of coherence, so far down, especially when you hear the quiet whisper of a hoarse, purring voice: "my beautiful angel" and "sugar bunny" on your thighs, along with wet kisses and long, slow licks, which literally make your pussy literally dripping with arousal.

San pulls another length of rope through the center of your makeshift corset. You're not quite sure what to expect from him when he slips the loose end of the rope between your legs as they are spread apart. He moves around you and kneels down behind you, pressing his hot body against your back. San was wearing nothing but a pair of ripped black jeans and a leather belt with a heavy metal buckle. He preferred to feel the coolness of the room against his skin, and he refused to wear a shirt or t-shirt. It's wonderful to feel the warmth of his smooth, golden skin and the pulsing muscles that stretch and contract as he moves. His hard, massive cock presses against the softness of your plump ass, rubbing lightly against you, trying to ease the painful arousal. You can't bear to look at him with the lace blindfold that is tightly fastened over your eyes, but it makes you feel good to know you've had such an effect on him.

San stretches the rope between your beras, and you shiver a little as the rough texture of it slides between your labia. His fingers part your wet folds so he can place the rope where he wants it. San gently pulls the rope upwards, watching as the knot rubs directly against your clit, causing a burst of stars to explode from behind your closed eyelids as you finally get the stimulation that you so desperately need.

As San attaches the end of the rope to the back of your exquisitely woven corset, taking his time tightening it to tease you while keeping you safe, the intricate knot continues to rub against your swollen clit in the most delicious way.

He finally finishes tying you up and makes sure all the loose ends are securely tied to the back of the corset. San rises to his feet again, and you feel a chill run down your spine as his hot body moves away from you. He walks around you in a circle, like a graceful cat of prey, admiring the work he has done.

"Do you have any idea how bloody perfect you look, my angel? A perfect little toy for me to play with. I want you to see yourself, Princess." San helps you to your feet and guides you closer to the mirror. Then, in one swift motion, he unties the lace blindfold over your eyes, allowing you to see how beautiful you are right now.

As soon as you caught sight of your reflection in the mirror, you let out a long, drawn-out moan. You looked much more beautiful than you could have imagined, the black silk rope wrapping around your body like a smooth snake, contrasting perfectly with the soft pale tone of your skin and leaving bright scarlet marks on the most sensitive and delicate areas.

You were right—the pattern San had created on your body did indeed resemble a corset—the rope, tied in exquisite loops, ran from your chest to your waist. The tightness of the knit made your breasts look astonishingly voluptuous and lifted them up in the most seductive way possible. The rope goes down to make it look like you're wearing sexy lingerie, wrapping around your hips like a garter belt. Another piece of rope is placed between the labia of your pussy. The tight knot of the rope presses perfectly against your clitor and stimulates it with your slightest movement.

You look and feel absolutely beautiful and safe with the black silk rope tied around you and the warmth of San's large body behind you. His handsome, sculpted face is rubbing on your shoulders and neck like a contented cat, and he is purring admiringly in your ear. You were truly his perfect little plaything—the sweet plaything of a big, feline predator.

San's hands trace the intricate pattern of the rope, enjoying how it feels to wrap around your body, sometimes gently squeezing your sides.

"You are the most beautiful thing I have ever owned, my little angel. You look like a beautiful fallen angel, but that won't stop me from destroying you." San whispers in your ear like velvet. You turn your head to look at San and fall into the dark, magnetic trap of his eyes in an instant. Never before in your life have you seen someone who looked so much like a real cat in the form of a human.

Everything about him—from his mesmerizingly sharp eyes, high cheekbones, and chiselled jawline to his purring voice, sensual personality, and elegant movements—was the embodiment of a little predator. And you—you were his little mouse, the one he could play with whenever he felt like it.

San grabbed your chin with his fingers and turned your head back towards the mirror. With his other hand, he pulled on the rope between your wet folds, the tight knot rubbing against your swollen clit. You almost choked at the sudden pull of the rope as its thick texture slid over your sensitive cunt.

San moves away from you and sits down on the bed in an elegant manner, leaving you standing alone in front of the mirror. At the moment you are so confused that you don't understand at all why he has left you standing there - tied up and excited. You look over your shoulder and see San sitting on the bed, legs spread wide, stroking his thick, hard cock lazily as he watches you. He enjoys the way your body looks wrapped in his ropey silk masterpiece.

You moaned loudly, you were so excited, you want to cum right now, and San's hot, dark eyes sliding over your skin didn't make it any easier. You knew that you weren't allowed to use your hands to ease the tension between your thighs until San gave you permission to do so.

A seductive smile spreads across San's soft, plump lips as he watches you from where he sits on the bed. He slows the movement of his hand on his cock, running the pad of his thumb over the wet head. His eyes roll back in his head, and his mouth opens in a soft, sweet moan.

He nods gently in the direction of the mirror behind you, indicating that you should turn to face the mirror once more. You obediently follow his silent instructions and turn to face your reflection. You look at yourself once more and feel your pussy throbbing with desire. It only seems to increase the intensity of the stimulation as the juices flowing from you are absorbed by the rope stretched between your labia.

You feel so empty and so desperate to want San to use you, for him to sit you on his cock, to pull the ropes around your body as he fucks you deep and slow. From these thoughts, your hands begin to slide down your thighs in an unconscious way, and even this light touch makes you let out a sigh of pleasure.

"Don't you dare touch what is mine." San hisses. "If my little rope bunny wants to come, it'll be from the rope between those thick, juicy thighs or nothing at all."

You're moaning at his words, both enjoying his praise and completely disappointed that he didn't let you touch yourself. But you know San better than anyone else, and you are not going to try to awaken his dark side. You begin to squeeze your thighs together, and thick muscles tense with the effort, causing the rope to stretch tightly between the soft folds of your wet cunt. Your hips begin to rock seductively, the tight knot of rope clinging deliciously to your clit with each successive movement of your hips. Completely overwhelmed by the sensation, you throw your head back in ecstasy and let out loud and long moans. You can feel the viscosity of the moisture starting to flow out of your hole.

"Look at yourself in the mirror, angel, as you try to cum. Don't you want to see the rope sliding down your sweet little cunt while you are desperately humping it like a needy little whore?"

San is absolutely right—you do look like one. On the silver surface of the mirror, your reflection is completely depraved. Your hair is dishevelled, and your eyes are clouded with lust. Your skin is red from the tension of the ropes that are tied around your body, and it glistens with sweat. All in all, it can feel as if you've been fucked for hours on end, but San hasn't even touched you the way you'd like him to.

You begin to rub harder and harder against the rope between your legs, your face contorting in pleasure every time the knot of the rope presses against your clit, the rough texture sliding over your sensitive folds. A particularly strong movement and a tight squeeze on your thighs brings you to your climax.

"Oh God, San…" You moan loudly as you literally fall forward onto the mirror, your hands shooting up into the air as you grab hold of the massive frame to keep yourself on your feet as your whole body shakes with orgasm. Your juices flow copiously down your thighs and drip onto the floor, some being absorbed by the rope still pressed tightly against your pussy.

You barely have time to catch your breath before you are pushed forward by San's rough touch, causing you to literally press your chest against the mirror. The coldness of the reflective surface on your nipples makes them harden in an instant, making them more sensitive to any kind of touch.

"My pretty Angel..." San's voice is silky as he whispers into your ear when he presses his naked chest against your back, trapping you between the mirror and his hot body. "It was so hard for me to stop myself from cum while I was watching you enjoy yourself, but there is a better place for my load of sperm, isn't there, angel?" San emphasises his words by stimulating your clit, still throbbing from the previous orgasm, with a sharp tug on the rope between your labia. You let out a loud cry and squeezed your fingers together on the heavy frame of the mirror until your hands were white.

His tongue begins to slide slowly down the length of your neck, pressing lightly on your pulse point, which is why he can feel how fast your heart is beating at the moment. San leaves hot, wet kisses on your skin, gradually turning into dark hickeys as he continues to stimulate your pussy with a rope, sometimes pulling hard, then releasing. You feel San rubbing his big, thick dick against your buttocks, smearing pre-cum all over the tender, plump flesh, and you want to get down on your knees in front of him and lick that bittersweet wetness off his hard length. You want to hear him moan, and you want to enjoy his beautiful face as it is contorted with pleasure.

But right now you're desperate for him to fill that void inside you, and the thought of him stretching you and stuffing you with his thick cock until you can see the bulge of his length against your belly makes your pussy throb and contract, spouting fluid. The textured knot of the rope continues to press against your kitor every time San pulls on the rope, but even this delicious sensation is not enough to satisfy you. You need him to fuck you so hard. Fiercely.

You're on the verge of another orgasm when San pulls back and unties the rope from your corset. He presses you harder against the mirror with his body, biting the skin on the back of your neck, and you feel the swollen head of his dick slide between your wet folds until it is pressed against your quivering hole.

San enters you in one smooth motion, his pelvis touching your ass as his whole thick, hot length ends up inside of you. He lets out a low moan as he feels the rope garter belt around your hips, brushing against his hips with every move he makes. He loves fucking you like this—bound, helpless, completely controlled by him. San immediately picks up the pace and starts fucking you hard and fast—just the way you want him to do it.

He grabs hold of the back of your rope corset and uses it as leverage to fuck you even harder. You look at yourself in the mirror once more and lock eyes with San as he fucks you from the back. His eyes are too dark for you to understand the emotion that is hidden behind the black, gleaming irises, but you are sure that it is something deeper and more dangerous than just ordinary lust.

Your breasts bounce with each hard thrust, and your breathing becomes heavy as San's hand clasps your throat, cutting off some oxygen. This action only serves to push you even closer to your orgasm.

You can feel San's hot length pulsating inside of you as it rubs against your sensitive, smooth walls with every powerful thrust of his hips. The sound that fills the room is sickeningly wet and loud, intertwined with your screams and moans and San's deep, purring groans. It sounds like fucking porn.

The tension inside you is growing with each passing second, and the walls of your pussy are beginning to shrink as you try to hold his dick in and make it harder for him to move. Every time you squeeze his cock, bringing him closer to his own orgasm, San hisses behind you. For a second, you're completely lost in what's happening. San's hand is squeezing your throat so tightly that black spots start to dance in front of your eyes - while the head of his cock hits your G-spot every time he enters you. Tears begin to flow from your eyes, and your mouth opens slightly, either to catch your breath or to try and moan his name. You're so close to cum.

San tightens the rope loops of your corset even further and pulls you against his body before his teeth sink into your shoulder, and he pushes into you with a rough, powerful thrust. He growls like a cat as he clenches his teeth on your skin, making it bleed as he fills you with his thick, warm cum. Such an animal act of power pushes you over the edge, and you come on his cock, your eyes rolling back in and choking on your moans.

San watches your orgasmic expression through the mirror, lazily licking the bleeding wounds of his teeth on your skin. Your sensitive walls tremble with stimulation as he continues to thrust weakly into you. Some of his cum, mixed with your juices, begins to leak from your used cunt and drip onto the floor.

You remain in this position for a few more minutes as you catch your breath from the intense orgasm you have just experienced. San pulls out of you, and this causes even more of his cum to flow out of your hole. He turns you over so that you are facing him, tangles his fingers in your hair, and tilts your head back so that you are looking into his eyes.

"You're absolutely beautiful, my angel." His lips are soft and too tender as he plants a kiss on you. This is the kind of kiss that can make you fall in love, and falling in love with San is as dangerous as a voluntary refusal of oxygen. Fatal. When he leaves your lips, the look in his eyes is dark and utterly evil, and you don't know what else to call him if he's not the devil himself. "You still look too pure and sweet for me; it seems I'm going to need to work harder to get you destroyed, my princess."

[phoenixblaze1412]

Mr reca with an actress reader who first appeared very professional on set and unaffected by reca’s light flirting only to be incredibly dominant and flirtatious in private :> (reca would be stunned, trust)

Mr. Reca was no stranger to being in control. As a director, he dictated the way a scene unfolded, his hands shaping every movement, his voice orchestrating every beat. He thrived in command.

But you…

You were something else entirely.

The first time you walked onto his set, you were all business. Polite yet detached, you took direction with ease, never wavering under his signature teasing remarks.

"Ah, our star," Reca had purred during the first rehearsal, leaning against the back of his chair as he watched you adjust your mark on set. "I hope you don’t mind my guiding hand."

You barely spared him a glance. "I take direction well, Mr. Reca. I expect you to do the same when I’m in front of the camera."

His grin had flickered, just for a second. Most actresses either blushed or batted their lashes at him. But you? You were ice-cool, immovable. He had a game on his hands, and oh, how he loved a game.

He tested you. More flirtation, more casual touches—nothing inappropriate, but enough to see if he could get a rise out of you. A flicker of amusement, a hitch in your breath, something that indicated you weren’t as immune to him as you appeared.

But scene after scene, you remained unaffected. Perfect. Poised. Practically untouchable.

And Reca? He was growing obsessed.

By the second week of filming, Reca was practically restless. He threw in more casual flirtations, knowing that the crew would write it off as his usual antics.

“Tell me, do you rehearse that sharp tongue of yours, or does it just come naturally?” he mused one afternoon after yet another witty rebuttal from you.

Without missing a beat, you met his gaze and responded, “If I did rehearse, Mr. Reca, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

Laughter erupted from the crew, and Reca could only chuckle, though inwardly, he was seething. Not with anger, but with frustration. He had flirted his way into and out of every kind of reaction imaginable—but you? You were unreadable.

Even in moments that required close contact—like the romantic tension in the film’s pivotal scene—you stayed in character, never faltering under his gaze.

And yet, when the cameras weren’t rolling, you had this knowing glint in your eye, as if you were playing a game he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Late one evening, after an exhausting day of shooting, you found Reca alone in the production room, watching playback footage.

You leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "Still working, Director?"

Reca turned, expecting the same playful professionalism you gave in public. Instead, he found you watching him with a smirk that made his pulse stutter.

"You know, dedication is—"

"Reca." You cut him off, sauntering toward him.

His mouth went dry.

You plucked the remote from his hand, stopping the footage. Then, slow as sin, you leaned onto the table, your lips mere inches from his ear.

"I’ve been patient," you murmured. "I’ve let you play your game. Now it’s my turn."

He barely had time to process your words before you kissed him.

And oh, stars above, you kissed him like you had all the time in the universe to break him apart.

Your hands found their way into his hair, your body pressing against his just enough to feel his heartbeat stammer against your own. He responded instinctively, hands gripping your waist, but the moment he tried to deepen the kiss...

You pulled away.

Reca nearly whimpered.

"What’s wrong?" you teased, dragging a thumb over his lower lip. "Not used to being the one left breathless?"

He stared at you, dazed, lips kiss-bruised and eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

"You’re dangerous," he whispered.

You smiled, slow and knowing. "And you love it."

From then on, every private moment between you was a power play.

You would brush past him in the hall, your fingers barely grazing his, and he would stiffen like he’d been burned. You would lean in too close when discussing a scene, your lips ghosting over his ear, and he’d completely lose track of what he was saying.

During one particularly tense editing session, you leaned over his chair, resting a hand on his shoulder as you whispered, “This shot… don’t you think it deserves a closer look?”

Your breath against his skin sent a shudder down his spine, and for the first time in his career, he forgot how to speak.

Reca, the ever-confident, ever-smooth director, was coming undone at your hands.

And you loved it.

It all came to a head one evening when Reca finally tried to take back control.

After a long day, you were in the dressing room, touching up your lipstick when you caught his reflection in the mirror.

He looked determined. Like he was finally going to win this little game of yours.

“Enjoying yourself?” you mused, dabbing the excess color away.

Reca stepped forward, hands braced on either side of the vanity, caging you in.

“Immensely,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual.

You hummed. “Good.”

Then, before he could make his move, you turned in your chair and pulled him down by the collar, kissing him so fiercely that he gasped against your lips.

His knees nearly buckled.

You deepened the kiss, savoring the way he melted against you. His hands trembled at your sides, caught between pulling you closer and surrendering completely.

And then—you pulled away.

Reca let out the softest sound of protest. You traced his jaw with a single finger, tilting his chin up so he had no choice but to meet your gaze.

“Oh, Reca,” you purred. “You really thought you could turn the tables on me?”

His breath hitched. His pupils were blown. He was completely wrecked.

You smiled, pressing a final, teasing kiss to his cheek before walking away, leaving him standing there—dazed, undone, and utterly at your mercy.

From then on, Mr. Reca was a changed man.

On set, he was still the same smug, flirtatious director everyone knew—but the moment you were alone, that facade cracked.

Now, you were the one he looked at like a man on the verge of ruin.

Now, he was the one left weak in the knees after every encounter.

And stars help him, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[okwonyo]

memories of heart.

ᙏ̤̫ 엔하이픈 ( 형들 ) + femreader （ ？） fluff established relationship warning not-proofread skinship kissing & 500 —⠀ bookshelf

notes. i'm so sleepy T^T

heeseung

arcade date: has always dreamed about going to this kind of dates; especially as the hopeless romantic as he is and how much he loves video games, the thought of playing a bunch of these with the one he loves makes him become red from cheerfulness. proud smile on his face, he is the type to win a plushie a prize for a game and offer it to you— “thank you for being here with me”

photobooth date: is beyond annoying about which poses you should do, claiming he wants the set of pictures to be perfect. ‘sit like that’s and ‘put your hand over here, baby’s before each flash, he makes you sit on his laps and hold you by the waist firmly. giving up on posing perfectly, he always and up giggling when you look at him for a slip second— hand slipping from the top of your thigh to right before the knee, you can see his cheeks growing red in the photography.

jongseong

stargazing date: prepares a whole picnic for the night, with your favorite flowers and dishes— made sure to put on the most romantic songs he has ever heard, with a couple of scented candles as-well.. whispers; “i think i love you too much, because..” he squeezes your hand, “in a sky full of stars, i will only ever see you” while you both watch the stars shining in the sky, he only watches them through your shiny eyes.

baking date: lets you tie the bow of his soft pink floral apron you bought for him for your six months anniversary. dots on you during the whole time, hand placed on your lower back as you put on glazing on the cute cake just made— leaning in as you does too, he might fall into it if he keeps on going. his favorite part is when you feed him some red and sugary strawberries.

jaeyun

lantern festival date: he takes you there after you told him you always wanted to go to one, mainly inspired by reponzel but also because you find the concept beautiful— and he is willing to do anything to make you happy. he holds the lantern as you put the candle in it, thinking you look so cute with that focused expression of yours. finds himself enjoying the rise of all the lanterns in the sky.

beach date: initially wanted to take a walk; claiming that the summer's warmth and clear sky was too beautiful to be missed. hand in hand, bumping shoulders when one of you says something funny, walking away from each other and coming back when the distance threatens to make your hands let go of each other. you end up both in the water at some point, clothes still on but barely even caring— he helps you float on your back, tries to kiss you under the salty water..

sunghoon

biking date: has spent weeks trying to find the perfect place to go biking together and made sure to do it when the weather starts being nice again. at some point, he starts biking close to you and with one single hand; trying to reach you with a stupid smile on his face, he loves cliche, you reach his hand and your fingers touch.. you hold hands for ten minutes before he almost falls.

auquarium date: running around the almost empty walls of the aquarium as you booked for the night session, looking at the fish wide headed as you swear it looks exactly like your boyfriend, holding hands while the blue hue kisses your skin tenderly— everything that makes an aquarium date one and are one your ‘date to do’ list, are the things you and him would do instinctively.

nets @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels taglist open! @manooffline @ibsysbsfsunsbs @oldjws @lilriswife4life @alaezasmystery235 @teddywonss @tyussday @cholexc @flickqr @yuviqik @wvnrqs @strawberrywonz @y-ves @isawritesss @filmofhybe @ikeucakes @gweoriz @yunabi436 @ashtxrie @soul-is-a-strange-kid @jaelaxies @jwonsluvr @lynniebearrr-blog @bobabunhee @sunghoonsarmpit @ynsvnte @wonifullove @luvieden @shalkeren @thesunoosshining @smouches

[insanityclause]

“It’s the fifth play I’ve rehearsed here,” says Tom Hiddleston, looking round a bare, bleak room at a studio space in Southeast London with a broad smile and a surprising amount of pleasure. Hayley Atwell peers past an office desk and a stack of plastic chairs to look out of the window.

“And have you worked over there?” she asks, pointing at the building opposite. “That’s where Cate Blanchett and Tom Burke are doing The Seagull? And next door here, Jonathan Bailey is working on Richard II. That to me is so indicative of the romance of the theatre community. Everyone is doing their thing, but all together in a shared space. I find it so exciting.”

The pair’s enthusiasm is infectious. Both are movie stars who command cinematic franchises. Hiddleston is Loki, the trickster of the Marvel universe. Atwell plays Grace in the two most recent Mission: Impossible films. Yet both seem genuinely excited to be back on stage for the first time since 2019 in a new production of Much Ado About Nothing directed by Jamie Lloyd.

“I feel like I won the lottery,” says Hiddleston. “I absolutely love Loki. I got cast as this extraordinary character, this ancient archetype who represents mischief and chaos and then I get to do this too. What my whole journey through being an actor has taught me is I love it when it’s honest – it’s thrilling to watch and it’s thrilling to play when there is deep commitment in the work.”

He pauses a little. He has already made his mark in Shakespeare, notably as a memorable Coriolanus on stage at the Donmar in 2014, and as Prince Hal in the BBC’s adaptation of the history plays, The Hollow Crown. “If I had good fortune, I’d love to play Shakespeare for the rest of my life. I really love doing it. The plays are so deep, and they contain such wisdom about being alive.”

Atwell is also a fine classical actress, most recently in a devastating production of Ibsen’s Rosmersholm (costarring Burke). But Mission: Impossible has dominated her life for the past five and a half years: she has been combining rehearsals with shooting additional scenes for The Final Reckoning, which comes out in May. As the mercurial Grace – “she’s her own version of an agent of chaos” – she has, like the rest of the Mission: Impossible cast, signed up to do her own stunts. “I’ve brought quite a strong plank into rehearsal,” she laughs.

The actors met in 2002, on their final audition for RADA. “He did this improvised thing called the status game, and I was so impressed by it,” Atwell says, laughing. “And then he got in and I went to Guildhall instead, but because we were peers, there was always this social crossover.”

They stayed in touch, but even though they both appeared in Avengers: Endgame – Atwell as Peggy Carter and Hiddleston as Loki – they have never been on set together or interacted as characters. Planned joint projects have also fallen through. Playing Shakespeare’s warring lovers Benedick and Beatrice in one of his greatest comedies is their first experience of actually sharing a space.

Much Ado About Nothing is one of Shakespeare’s funniest and most resonant comedies. Its story of a group of men returning from war to sunny Messina to party and adapt to civilian life has just about everything: old lovers meeting and rekindling desire; new lovers being torn apart by suspicion and doubt. It is full of great comic set pieces and marked by near tragedy. Hiddleston and Atwell are the latest couple to take on Benedick and Beatrice, following in the footsteps of actors as various as Mark Rylance and Janet McTeer, David Tennant and Catherine Tate and Simon Russell Beale and Zoë Wanamaker.

They are having a good time. “It’s so lovely,” says Atwell, sitting back in her plastic chair. “It’s easy because there’s a lot of trust and a natural shorthand between us. The ice is already broken and so we can just try different things, and I know that if I try something Tom’s going to respond and give me something back.”

“You just dive in,” says Tom, smiling as he interrupts. This is the nature of their conversation; they spill over one another’s words, finishing sentences. It bodes well for their performances as a couple whose surface banter disguises a deep love for one another. “So much of what Benedick and Beatrice do is listen to each other and then use one aspect of what they’ve said and weaponise it. It means as actors we have to be very active in our listening. Every time Tom bats something to me, I have to keep the ball in the air. It’s so exhilarating.”

Atwell rattles on. She is a great and articulate talker. “They are bound by this chemistry that they don’t fully control and are keeping each other at arm’s length because of their fear of being vulnerable with each other.” Hiddleston smiles again before continuing the thought. “It’s genuine magnetism, a very intense attraction. And they think they are the smartest people in the room, until they’re not.”

Rehearsals have been marked by a lot of dancing. Much Ado is set at a family gathering during which a wedding is arranged. “And when old friends get together, people dance,” says Hiddleston. “’90s house music,” chips in Atwell with a grin. “It’s a very different kind of show.”

It sounds like a very Jamie Lloyd style of show. The director is famous for his stripped-back, direct style which is introducing classic plays to new and younger audiences. “The thing I love about him is his courage in honouring the plays. He asks us to engage very deeply and very personally with the material,” says Hiddleston.

The last time Hiddleston worked with Lloyd was in 2019 on a production of Harold Pinter’s Betrayal in London and on Broadway, where he met his now wife Zawe Ashton. “It was an extraordinary life-changing time,” he says. “Hugely resonant. I talk about it every day. There is so much fondness in that experience and we all really enjoyed the work as well.”

Ashton has worked repeatedly with Lloyd down the years. “It feels like family,” Hiddleston adds. “I think really good work can come from this deep friendship. We hold each other to account and keep each other honest in the work. I love it.”

Atwell, who is married to the music producer Ned Wolfgang Kelly, has also collaborated with Lloyd three times. “I think he likes actors as a species,” she says, thoughtfully. “Not every director particularly does. We might be an odd kind of bunch, and we are slippery, mercurial things, playing like children do. He loves that. He wants rehearsals to feel like a playground.”

With that, the couple smile warmly and leave the room. Ready for another day of dancing.

[loveburrowx]

The Novella

Request - Joe decided to have a romantic date with Y/N but things take a turn all because of a Novella.

Warnings - Smut (Intercourse)

A/N - if u like romantic fanfics this one for you! Enjoy!

The night air was thick with anticipation as Joe Burrow's massive, imposing mansion loomed before them. Its walls were adorned with priceless works of art and the grounds were meticulously landscaped, a testament to his immense wealth and success. As Joe opened the grand door, revealing the opulent interior, she couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement coursing through her veins. Her name was Y/N, and she was Portuguese - a fact that made the evening all the more special for Joe, who had always been enamored with her culture.

As they were led into the lavish dining room, Joe couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was dressed in the most exquisite gown, her long raven hair flowing down her back like a waterfall. The way it caught the light as they moved through the room was nothing short of breathtaking. The meal was fit for a king and queen, with the finest wines and delicacies from around the world gracing their table.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on everything from their shared love of football to their families and their heritage. As the evening progressed, an undeniable chemistry began to build between them. Finally, Joe broached the subject that had been on his mind all night. "So," he said, his voice low and seductive, "would you like to watch a movie with me later?" Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine at his words. She knew exactly what kind of movie he was talking about. "I'd like that very much," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

After the dishes had been cleared away, they retired to Joe's private screening room. The walls were adorned with luxurious red velvet curtains, and the plush seats were comfortable enough to sink into and lose yourself in the film. Joe switched on the projector, and the screen lit up with the opening credits of a classic romantic novela. As they settled in, Y/N couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. This was the first time they would be spending any extended period of time alone together.

The novella began, and before long, they were caught up in the story of star-crossed lovers, their hearts racing in unison as the characters embarked on their passionate affair. It wasn't long before the scene shifted to a particularly steamy love scene, and both Joe and Y/N found themselves becoming increasingly aroused. They exchanged glances, their eyes meeting and holding, as they struggled to contain their desire. Finally, they could no longer hold back, and with a single shared look, they knew they had to act

Their lips met in a passionate kiss, their hands exploring each other's bodies with an urgency that belied their previous restraint. They stumbled out of the screening room and into Joe's bedroom, their need for one another overwhelming. As they fell onto the bed, their clothes were discarded quickly, revealing their naked forms to each other for the first time. Joe took her hand in his and gently guided it to his erect member, her touch sending shivers of pleasure through him.

He began to kiss and nibble his way down her neck, his lips and tongue tracing a path to her breasts, which he cupped in his hands and tenderly caressed. Y/N arched her back, moaning softly as he teased her sensitive nipples with his tongue. She reached down between them, guiding his hips toward her, feeling the heat of his body against her own. "Joe," she breathed, "I can't wait any longer." And with that, she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, guiding him inside her.

As they moved together, their bodies in perfect sync, Joe whispered words of love and desire into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her, building to an almost unbearable intensity before crashing over her in a series of powerful orgasms. Exhausted but still intensely aroused, they lay together, their hearts racing and their bodies slick with sweat. "I've never felt anything like that before," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "Neither have I," he replied, his voice raw with emotion. "You're incredible." And with that, he began to make love to her again, his movements sure and gentle, his fingers finding just the right rhythm to send her spiraling back into ecstasy.

As the night wore on, they explored each other's bodies in ways they hadn't even imagined possible, their passion only growing stronger with each passing moment. They moved from the bed to the living room, their bodies pressed together as they danced to the music in their minds, lost in the heat of their desire. They found themselves back in the screening room, their lips locked in a passionate embrace as they fumbled to undress, their fingers tracing each other's bodies in the dim light cast by the projector.

Finally, as the sun began to rise, they collapsed together on the couch, their bodies still entwined, their breaths shallow and ragged. "That was...unbelievable," Y/N whispered, her cheek resting against his chest. "I've never known anything like it." Joe wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, and breathed in the sweet scent of her skin. "I think," he said, his voice barely audible, "that I'm falling in love with you." And with that, he kissed her, their lips moving together in a slow, tender dance that spoke of promises and possibilities, of a future filled with love and happiness.

As the days turned into weeks, they found themselves falling deeper into a relationship that was both passionate and tender, a bond that seemed unbreakable. They shared everything with each other, from the mundane details of their daily lives to their deepest fears and desires. They explored the world together, discovering new restaurants, museums, and cities, each experience adding a new layer to the rich tapestry of their love.

Joe had never been happier, and he knew that Y/N felt the same way. He watched her as she moved through the world, a radiant light seeming to emanate from her every pore, and he couldn't help but feel grateful for the chance to be a part of her life. She was his everything, his reason for waking up in the morning and his reason for sleeping soundly at night.

One day, as they sat together in the park, watching the children play, Joe gathered the courage to ask her a question that had been on his mind for some time. "Y/N," he began, his voice shaking slightly, "will you be my girlfriend?" She looked up at him, her eyes shining with tears of happiness, and without a moment's hesitation, she replied, "Yes, Joe. Yes, I will." And with that, they sealed their love with a kiss that seemed to echo through the entire world.

As their relationship continued to grow and flourish, they found themselves constantly amazed by the depth of their connection. They supported each other through the good times and the bad, always there with a kind word or a gentle touch to offer comfort and reassurance. They spoke of their dreams and aspirations, of the lives they wanted to build together, and of the family they hoped to one day have.

They traveled together, exploring new corners of the globe and discovering the beauty that existed both within each other and within the world around them. They shared their favorite books, movies, and music, and their conversations often lasted late into the night, fueled by their shared curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

Joe never doubted that Y/N was the love of his life, and as the years passed, he knew that he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his days by her side. He imagined them growing old together, their love only deepening with time, their bond unbreakable. He pictured her face, wrinkled and lined with the wisdom of a life well-lived, and he knew that no matter what the future held, he would always be there for her.

And so, they continued on, their love a beacon of hope and joy in a world that could sometimes be dark and uncertain. They made a life together, built on a foundation of trust, respect, and unconditional love, and they knew that they were lucky to have found each other. For Joe, every day spent with Y/N was a gift, and he vowed to cherish each and every moment for the rest of his days.

As the years passed, they faced challenges together, their bond growing stronger with each obstacle they overcame. They faced illness, loss, and heartbreak, but through it all, they held onto each other, finding solace and comfort in the warmth of their shared love. They became a symbol to those around them of what true love could be, a testament to the power of the human spirit to overcome adversity and find joy in even the darkest of times.

One day, as they sat on a bench in the park they had visited so many times before, Joe felt compelled to express the depth of his love and gratitude for Y/N. He took a small, velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a stunning diamond ring. His heart pounded in his chest as he asked her the question that had been on his mind for so long: "Y/N, will you marry me?"

Tears streaming down her face, Y/N nodded vigorously and threw her arms around him, kissing him passionately. "Yes," she sobbed, "I will marry you. I love you, Joe. With all my heart." And with that, they sealed their promise to spend the rest of their lives together, their love a shining beacon in a world that was ever-changing, but forever held a place for them.

[prapaiwife]

High school frenemy!!!

First off I think no one I mean no one was ready for the engagement of what high school frenemy had did. I see people saying that this was all planned for the show to get the hype it had gotten but it wasn't. This was such an organic growth of success that happened each week. And it kind of sounds crazy to say when you look at the cast! I mean they're two main leads skynani both have a huge following of their own and have done a lot of acting in their careers prior to even being together. And so they're pretty well respected! And then now with sky joining gmm and to meet nani again and be in hsf it was as if their career just catapulted exceptionally. I can't go on about how much they both deserve this I remember when it was just starting out and the show didn't have that much engagement barely any promo for the beginning. But as episodes went on the trends the engagements the hashtags everything started to become louder. Sky and Nani we're doing events more and more every other week press tours in between were more frequent. They truly earned the success so much, skynani have said they didn't expect people to care let alone love their show, a show about friendship or bromance. And yet now they're going to have their own fan con next year of February! have two shows for them the second one literally being by popular demand lol literally being filmed the week before the conference because it was a no brainer that these two need to work together for as long as they can. To have seen this growth happen in real time has been so crazy and yet stressful yet fun lol. Their chemistry on screen is something that everyone in that whole building up in gmm can't even really put into words let alone the fans so 😂😂 like it's just unfathomable with those two on screen for 16 episodes that was amazing!!! And again these two have acted prior to their careers and yet it feels like their careers have seemed reignited with this. Especially Nani because he's been in shows that done seemingly well people still talk about F4 and homeschool every now and then Wednesday club maybe lol and he has said to himself that he can't believe it it's like a pinch me moment for him truly honestly he was really emotional today in tears expressing his gratitude and his gratefulness for all of this. And for sky he's so happy to be here! to be having someone that he can call his partner that he gets along with so well who he understands and vice versa and can confidently says is his friend. Saint and shin relationship being able to heal from it's past wounds and move forward has been the most heart-wrenching but as well the most heartwarming story to have seen🤧 those two characters will always be characters that I cannot forget.

Now the finale in of itself was action packed as they said I think everyone's characters'stories have wrapped up really well. The show focuses so much on family, forgiveness, and of course friendship it touched me so deeply because I know how important it is to have relationships and doesn't always have to be the romantic ones just the platonic ones. But to have that friend whether it is a group or just that singular one person it's all meaningful. All that has been said about friendships and how to take care of them we all heard this before but it doesn't ever really hurt to have that reminder. Now we wait until the fan me and then into the new era for their shows and I can't wait to see the way it's just going to be more than what it is now it's just going to get higher and higher for them 🤧

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Proper Etiquette Chapter 5, Proposal Day

Masterlist Word count: 1.5k Xavier x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your family is rich. Filthy rich. So rich that they bought titles for themselves and their children. Sadly, your parents want their titles to mean something and have an arranged marriage lined up for you. You told them you’d agree to it if you were allowed to live as a “commoner” for two years and if you’d find someone you loved who would marry you, you could. Surprisingly, they agreed. Only downside is that that deal was made 18 months ago and you really do not want to go back to that life.  

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait. I am moving, so the next one is probably gonna take a minute also. I hope ya'll like this one <3

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains swear words, talk of violence, talk of trauma, mentions of alcohol, drinking, and smoking, sex, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

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Sunday was a strange day. It had confused you, consumed your every thought from that day on, made you feel strangely secure with Xavier. From that day on, his hands were barely not on you. It's as if his hands are stuck to you.  

Not that it bothers you. You like having his hands on your hips while you cook for him, and he leans his head on your shoulder. You like holding his hand while he walks you home from work. Most of all, you like how he holds you so tightly when you go to sleep together. 

The only thing that bothers you is that you want more. You crave more. You want his kisses, his touch on your skin instead of over your clothes, his most intimate moments. In the span of just a few days, you started feeling like you couldn't do anything without him. Your love grew so much that you feel your ribcage is losing a fight against your heart. 

'Are you still there?' Jeremiah's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He had been yapping for a while now and you mind had wondered off to Xavier as it had many, many times since you met him. 

'I am.' 

Jeremiah leans in, his eyes a little worried. 'What's going on with you? You've been spacing out all day.' 

'I'm falling for Xavier,' you admit, as you could only admit to a good friend like Jeremiah, with tears in your eyes, 'and at this point I don't know if this marriage is still fake to me. I can see us being really happy together, but I don't know how he feels.' 

'Oh, darling,' Jeremiah coos and stretches his arms out to pull you into him. What makes it all the more confusing is that today is supposed to the proposal day. Jeremiah is supposed to pretend to bring you somewhere without you knowing and Thomas will film the whole thing to show to family and friends. 

'This is getting too real.' 

'I mean, you've got some time to make him fall for you,' there's something strange in his voice, like he knows something you don't. You pull out of the hug and look at him. 

'What did he say?' 

'As his friend, I can't tell you.' 

'He hates me,' you state, hoping it'll persuade him to tell you. Jeremiah just scoffs a laugh. 

'Please. He likes you more than he likes me.' He quickly slaps his hand in front of his mouth, but you hear enough. Well, enough to make sure that he doesn't hate you, but it still doesn't tell you anything about his romantic feelings. 

You had helped him write his speech for the proposal, told him about silly things you do that someone might fall in love with, explained what you imagined your perfect proposal would look like. Somewhere in your mind you fear that he might copy paste the whole thing. That would certainly tell you that he doesn’t have feelings for you. Or it could mean that he likes you a lot. Enough to do everything you want him to do. 

It's a weird paradox that you can't really get yourself out of. Jeremiah, however, does have his ways of getting you out of your doubts. 'Come on, go touch up your makeup. We're heading out in a few.' 

Without complaining you do as he says. He follows you into the bathroom, trying to hype you up with some music that you usually play when before you two go out clubbing together. Things like "Drup", "Bubblegum Bitch", "Maneater", "Djadja", and "Sterrenstof." Things to get you pumped up. Eventually, you end up laughing and dancing in the bathroom while you do some touch ups and check your outfit one last time. 

Eventually, you end up walking towards the spot with Jeremiah. However, you've already passed the spot you suggested to Xavier so maybe he did make some changes. That's when you realize you're walking in a circle. A big circle, yes, but you're slowly heading back to the apartment. 'Did you forget something at the apartment?' 

'No, I'm just trying to stretch time,' Jeremiah tells you, 'I got a text from Thomas that they're not quite done yet.' 

'Not quite done yet? Did they do something really elaborate?' 

'You'll just have to wait and see, don't you.' 

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'This is the last of them,' Thomas announces as he places the last flower vase in the living room. Xavier nods contently. 

'Great, then it's just the garlands,' Xavier states, pulling a bag with decorations up onto the table. Thomas looks surprised and a little taken aback. 

'I thought she asked for a simple beach proposal,' he questions. 

Xavier starts unpacking the bag and handing things to Thomas. 'She did, but we watched a k-drama recently that had a proposal in their own apartment. She awed over it for hours.' Thomas has a strange, knowing smile on his face. 

'You like her, don't you?' Xavier stiffens up, a blush spreading on his cheeks. 'I knew it,' Thomas shouts triumphantly, 'I told Jeremiah! Oh, this is great. You two would be so good together.' 

'You really think so?' 

'I know so. Can't you see how she looks at you? She's head over heels, man,' Thomas almost screams in Xavier's face, but Xavier doesn't mind. His thoughts are somewhere else. Somewhere between the nights he spends holding you and the way you smile at him when he talks to you. Then, Thomas’ phone dings. After checking it, he suddenly looks rushed, 'they're ten minutes away!' 

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You unlock the door to your apartment, yapping to Jeremiah about the flower shop and the fact that someone else is probably running it into the ground right now. To which Jeremiah doesn't disagree which worries you a bit. Then you suddenly realize your whole apartment is awfully quiet. Jeremiah isn't talking to you anymore, but before you can turn back to ask him what's going on, you've already stepped into the living room in awe. 

The whole place is covered in flowers and garlands. It's absolutely stunning. In the middle of it is Xavier with a big smile on his face. He reaches out for you and you take his hand. When you do, he sinks down on one knee and takes a little box out of his pocket. 

'My starlight, we've been together for some time now and I feel like the moment is here to take the next step. So, here it goes,' he says and he takes a deep breath. For a second, you think he's going to take out a note with his speech, but he doesn't. He looks up at you like you're made of stardust, as if you're the only thing in existence in the whole wide world. Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can't help the smile spreading on your face. Then he opens the box and starts speaking again. 

'I love how you pretend to hate the snacks I like so that I can have them all without feeling bad. I love how you reach for me when I get home and ask me about my day even if I can see that you've had a bad day. I love hearing your voice sing along to the music you play when you're cooking.   Most of all, I love having you around. It's refreshing to come home to someone who cares about me and wants to do everything with me. Even if I just want to take a nap and you want to read a book. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else.   Will you marry me?' 

You nod enthusiastically and look down in the little box to see... not a ring. A necklace. Xavier notices your confusion and gets up. He takes the necklace out of the box and moves behind you to help you put it on. 'I noticed you don't wear rings and I don't want to force you to wear one,' he explains gently, 'I had this necklace made for you. The charm is able to hold your wedding ring if you choose to wear it that way instead of on your finger.' 

The kind gesture makes you tear up. As far as you know, this is fake to him but the gesture is too kind to be fake. It's too thoughtful, too sweet, too... Xavier. It's just him. It's so him that it makes you want to bawl your eyes out. 

In the surge of the moment, you turn around, take his face in your hands, and press a lingering kiss to his lips. He doesn't fight it, simply puts his hands on your waist and holds you. 

Suddenly, you hear clapping, and you realize Jeremiah is still here. And apparently, Thomas is here too. 'Congratulations,' Jeremiah cheers as the two of you separate, a bright blush on both of your faces. 

This is it. Now you're stuck with him, but you don't regret it one bit. 

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[adamnablelittledevil]

What did you think about that moment in chapter 24?! I'm dying to know!

(The part that starts "I looked down on Lestat, who was unchanged...")

Hey! I'm sorry I couldn't answer it immediately and you had to wait, but I wanted to give this a proper answer with all my thoughts, so I hope this was worthwile and and makes up for it. 😉🙃 Anyway, here we go… I already knew what was going to happen, so, I was counting the pages to finally get to the chapter. And when I did, man, it did not disappoint.

Obviously, that wasn't romantic, but it was such a meaningful, intimate, delicate and tender moment that it felt even more powerful to me. Yes, part of the reason Armand went there was to get answers and try to quiet the anguish in his heart, but most of it was genuinely love. Which is why he returns, approaches, touches and shows Lestat affection again, even after drinking his blood. And it speaks volumes how Armand had all the reasons to keep a safe distance and yet he didn't flinch or even hesitate. And not only he approached Lestat, but also touched him, multiple times, and kept getting bolder and bolder with those gestures and 'pushing his luck'. Whether Armand was willing to take the risk of Lestat having a negative/defensive reaction or knew he would allow it by mere instinct, this is a proof of how deep their bond goes and how far they have come in their relationship. And from Lestat's side as well, because Armand was the only person he gave his consent to get near at the time and that was a huge thing. It was overall a really big and turning point in their relationship. And it's one of my favorite Lesmand/The Vampire Armand/The Vampire Chronicles moments as a whole.

And as if it isn't enough that it's such a monumental event on its own, it's so poetic too. The fact it happens in a chapel, they are both silent, Armand's tear falls on Lestat's cheek… It's all about the aesthetics, the body language, facial expressions etc. The imagery is so delicate and beautiful. The wording is stunning as well. Specially for this line:

"I tried to keep my heart absolutely pure of pride and pure of anything but love. It was not differentiated or defined, this love, but only love […]"

This has become one of my favorite quotes ever, maybe even my ultimate favorite from The Vampire Chronicles. I absolutely love the idea of a love that can't be classified, nor separated in different boxes, but instead defies all definitions and simply transcends. And when she wanted to, Anne Rice knew how to execute the concept brilliantly on her books. She even knew how to elevate and still manage to make it better almost two decades later. When she went on Facebook to further elaborate on it from Lestat's point of view, it just made my heart ache in the best way. I mean, the screenshot below speaks for itself.

Plus, if the show does that in the future, in any shape or form, it would be incredible. I'm such a sucker for scenes that are more complicated and primarily rely on the talent/chemistry of the performers and the actors need to work twice, three times as hard to execute them. Silent, scenes where the actors don't touch, phonecalls where they can't look at or feed off of each other in any way… I like to call them 'raw scenes' and they're usually my favorite on any show/movie I watch, including Interview With the Vampire. I can see it being a mix of Aragorn taking care of Eowyn after she was wounded

and Lizzy and Mr. Darcy dancing,

filmed and edited in a way that makes the people around them disappear for a moment and slowly reappear at the end, just like the way Armand described how the situation felt here:

"There was no chapel then for me, or outraged sighs or reverential cries. I heard nothing, and yet knew what was all around. I knew it as if the substantial place was but a phantasm, for what was real was his blood."

I'm personally obsessed with that trick and find it so sophisticated and mind-blowing that it frustrates me how it's barely used? So, I always appreciate it whenever I see it. And I also just know that Assad would be phenomenal at that, because he's already been doing that kind of acting for two whole seasons now. I can see him being soft, gentle and even somewhat tragic and I just know the affection and pain in his eyes would kill me in the best possible way. I could even see it becoming part of my top 5 moments on the series, maybe even my number #1. Right now my favorite clips are the 1x01 church sequence, the 2x08 loustat reunion and armandiel's last scene on 2x05. However, considering how much I love this moment and pretty much all things lesmand, they can easily become just as big of an obsession, possibly even bigger in future seasons (they already are my #1 on the books). I mean, the scene they have alone already makes my heart skip several beats because the chemistry was magnetic and irresistible,

that eye contact was *INTENSE* and I felt the sparks all the way over here. Felt like I was witnessing something that I shouldn't lol, but I was happy to invade their privacy because it was simply mesmerizing.

Anywaaaay… Hopefully, that will happen on the show someday, even if the context and circumstances of it may differ. Still, regardless if they do a version of it or not, that will remain a wonderful part of the book and that gladly I will never move on from.

[pigeonwhumps]

BBU masterlist

General contents: pet whump, dehumanisation, amnesia, PTSD

(I've also put disabled whumpee under some of the links – this is a disability that isn't PTSD or I'd have it for all of them!)

Series

Bug and Company

Bug's 18 when they're handed over to BetterPets by their foster parents, going through various owners and sets of training before being freed for good. This is their life, and that of those they've touched.

Contains: lady whump, multiple whumpees, disabled characters, recovery whump, caretaker new whumper, mutual caretaking

Finding Safety

After being kidnapped, dumped at WRU, and shipped to the USA, Cass isn't having a good time. And then Tyrone takes him to be his ring-fighting Guard Dog, alongside Aaliyah, a Romantic he already owns. Now he's definitely not having a good time, and nor is Aaliyah. After losing everything, they need to build their lives again, but with Aaliyah not remembering her past and Cass unable to reach his, it's a challenge, even with assistance.

Contains: lady whump, multiple whumpees, disabled characters, recovery whump, caretaker new whumper, different caretaker *actually* new whumper, mutual caretaking

Pets of the Silver Screen

In the silent film era and the early days of the WRU, young pet number 95, real name Eloise, is bought by film producer Hayes Fletcher to star in his productions. A few years later, he hires Agatha from Foster Montgomery to be her stunt double (read: to scar in scenes where it's necessary, because Eloise is too valuable), and the two young woman strike up a somewhat unwilling friendship.

Over a decade of working on- and off-screen later, it's the roaring twenties, pet liberation is starting to grow, and they're more than ready to leave. Enter Ira Waterhouse – a woman who's had just about enough of the pet industry and is willing to take in two runaways. But WRU is expanding, and running a newly-acquired safehouse in London's docklands isn't a piece of cake. Especially when the two former pets Ira's running it with are a) famous, b) wanted for burning down a film studio, and c) even more traumatised than she originally assumed...

Contains: lady whump, multiple whumpees, disabled character, historical whump, recovery whump, mutual caretaking

Sanctuary

Anita and her grandmother Indira are thrown into the world of pet ownership when Theo, a profoundly deaf unwanted box boy, is mistakenly delivered to the animal shelter Anita works at.

Meanwhile, 785, Theo's bonded, is now struggling to survive Eleanor alone.

As long as she's useful, anyway.

When 785 is refurbished and sold, meeting a defiant illegal pet named Cass along the way, she ends up living alongside a Pet who seems to know her far too well. Meanwhile, Theo discovers that the person he cares about most in the world barely remembers his existence, and Anita is in way over her head.

Contains: lady whump, multiple whumpees, disabled characters, recovery whump, caretaker new whumper, whumpee turned caretaker, mutual caretaking

One-shots

Outside

Ceci talks to Bless about going outside.

Contains: recovery whump, caretaker new whumper

Do you think Guard Dog designated pets should be legally required to wear an auditory identifier in public?

Opinion piece on a proposed law feat. Ade Olayinke vs David Cooper: "Guard Dog class pets will have to wear an auditory device such as a bell collar or proximity alarm at all times whilst in public spaces."

Cry for help

Melanie finds an abandoned pet on a street corner.

Contains: disabled characters, whumpee turned caretaker

Artwork and graphics

Pet Paper and Liberation magazine covers

WRU recruitment brochures

WRU pet wrapping service

Promotional cereal box

WRU x Happy Meal McDonald's advert

Bring Your Pets to Work Day

Petblr dashboard

Fanwork for @octopus-reactivated's Pet Paper – layout for @cowboy-anon's article 9 Essentials for a Hassle-Free Vacation with your Pet

Rent-A-Pet advert

Other

BBU Community Days 2023

BBU Community Days 2024

[smytherines]

do you have any hcs for precanon curtwen? how they got together, what they were like etc

Oh for sure I do!

I think they were probably paired up together for missions over the span of a couple of years, and had all this romantic & sexual tension that they convinced themselves was all in their heads, before they actually got together. They had long enough to build a friendship, a partnership, and they're both afraid enough of the consequences (both personally and professionally) that they don't want to even consider making a move.

I always imagine it as something goes wrong on a mission, someone gets hurt, or maybe they have a spectacular success and are high on adrenaline, and Curt impulsively kisses Owen because hey, this guy is attractive and Curt has a crush. Owen is just kinda stunned by it, and Curt pulls away like "oh shit he's gonna kill me," but really Owen has been infatuated with Curt for ages and just assumed Curt wasn't interested.

I could see Owen having an inkling that Curt is into men, but assuming that if someone as cocky and confident as Curt hasn't made a move, it must mean he isn't interested. So Owen has just been pathetically pining for him. I think Curt has been pining too, but because he just kind of assumes in that young closeted queer way that nobody else is "sick" like him, that confiding in anyone will get him in trouble. And in my headcanon, Owen is bisexual, so perhaps he's had affairs with women and Curt assumes that means he isn't interested in men.

Anyways, I love thinking about them in a relationship, even though it breaks my heart. Because realistically Curt and Owen probably only saw each other a handful of times per year, so everything they manage to build together is based on these little stolen moments. I think they start casually hooking up, killing time on missions, but it very quickly becomes something more. It almost has to. You don't get a lot of time to date as a spy, and even less as a gay spy. So even just the act of repeatedly hooking up by default sorta makes them the most important relationship in each other's lives- especially because they were such good friends first.

I personally don't think pre-fall curtwen were as toxic as a lot of people think. I don't really see any evidence of that in A1P1. I mean they both seem to be little freaks who get off on danger and violence, and I'm sure constant distance and secrecy and danger took their toll, but for me A1P1 shows two men who love and respect each other, even if they bicker and mess with each other.

One thought I keep coming back to is that they sneak off for movie dates, mostly because I love classic films and get really into imagining them reacting to the many gay subtext films of the early 50s. I think they sit in the darkest part of the theater and only their legs are touching, and maybe if there's nobody there one of them will put his hand on the other's thigh and it's almost a real date.

I think they'll go to bars- not underground gay bars specifically, but bars where a lot of queer people just happen to congregate, and sit at a booth or a table, and drink together and find little ways to be discreetly affectionate.

I think Curt thinks it's adorable that Owen is a kind of a nerd, and tries his best to pay attention when Owen goes on a ramble or a rant about boring tech stuff (but gets bored and starts trying to make out with him instead). I think Owen is fascinated with how Curt's mind works, how he's seemingly so chaotic and disorganized, but in a crisis he is absolutely cool and calm and comes up with clever, creative solutions for problems.

I think they loved each other, they knew each other so well that one could barely finish a sentence before the other picked it up. I think they were a bit codependent, and the distance started to gnaw away at them towards the end, but they were each other's favorite person in the world. They trusted each other more than anyone else on Earth. They missed each other desperately, but tried their best to put on a brave face every time they had to part. I think they sent each other coded love notes and presents and found excuses to request each other on missions. I think some of their pillow talk included imagining little scenarios where they could run off together and never have to be apart again, and it starts as a fun thing but gradually gets sadder and sadder for them as they realize how impossible that would be.

(That's all I have time for right now but I might pick this back up later)

[szmacblog]

Old-Time Tradition: Folk Musicals

Grease (1978)

This film follows Danny (John Travolta) and Sandy (Olivia Newton-John), two teenagers from different worlds. After a summer fling,  they thought they would never see each other ever again, but unexpectedly reunite in the same school. Sandy, initially a wholesome stereotypical "IT girl”, tries to fit in with Danny's greaser crew, the T-Birds, and their sassy counterparts, the Pink Ladies. 

Identity in Grease: A Song and Dance

The musical numbers in Grease are very energetic and catchy, but they also play a big role in exploring how the characters navigate their identities. Many songs like "Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee"—(I don’t drink, or swear. I don’t wrap my hair. I get ill from one cigarette. Keep your filthy paws from my silky dress)—and "Beauty School Dropout" showcase characters trying on different identities. Sandy tries to be the ideal 50s girl, while Rizzo rejects society's expectations. They all use songs to experiment and find their place in the T-Birds/Pink Ladies dynamic. On the other hand, songs like "Greased Lightnin'" and "We Go Together" solidify that bond that we can perceive between the T-Birds and Pink Ladies. Moreover, love, frustration, and teenage angst all find voice through the music. "Hopelessly Devoted to You", probably the most emotional song on the movie’s tracklist, lays bare Sandy's feelings, portraying her as the basic, easily enamored girl.

The film reinforces stereotypical gendered behaviors. For example, in “Summer Nights”, the girls' lyrics ("Tell me more, was it love at first sight?") center around romance and emotions, suggesting a more emotional and sensitive view of love. Whereas the boys' lyrics ("Tell me more, did she put up a fight?")  imply a focus on sexual conquest, portraying a more aggressive and sexualized view of romantic relationships. The song reinforces the idea that men and women approach love differently based on these stereotypes and it could be argued that it promotes non-consensual intimacy.

The characters in Grease don't just burst into song for no reason, their world revolves around music. The energy and choreography allow characters to process their emotions in a big way. In fact, the film doesn't shy away from showing the characters enjoying music and dance for pure fun. 

Yet, the world of Grease isn't exactly diverse

It is noticeable that the film avoids touching on any serious social issues of the 1950s, like racial tensions or economic disparity. This creates a sanitized version of the past and ignores the complexities of real life. Moreover, it pushes away the idea of 'Black Joy' as being something achievable even more. The music itself doesn't delve into racial themes, and there is quite literally, only one visible Black character in the movie—Frederick "Dennis" Greene as part of the singing group Johnny Casino and the Gamblers, reinforcing the idea that "Black musicality—the all-blacks-got-rhythm syndrome—of White cinema." (Dyer 98.)

The Ordinary → Utopia

Several elements align with the classic trope of white musicals seeking to transform the ordinary into a utopia; everyone is happy and music comes out of nowhere. Sandy's journey from a demure, "good girl" to a leather-clad greaser epitomizes this trope. Her initial wholesomeness represents the ordinary, while her adoption of the greaser look signifies a transformation into something cooler and more exciting. This aligns with the utopian ideal of escapism. On the other hand, Rydell High itself is portrayed as a somewhat utopian space. Sure, there are cliques and social pressures, but overall, it's a place where teenagers can have carefree fun. Finally, the film's resolution reinforces the utopian ideal. Danny and Sandy reconcile, the T-Birds and Pink Ladies maintain their cool-kid status, and everyone seems to get their happily-ever-after. This all-pink ending avoids the complexities of real life, where there are serious conflicts and consequences for teenage rebellion, and presents a more utopian world.

Circular time?

Black musicals often depict a cyclical view of time, where characters return to their "real life." As Dyer states, "white joy is in a space freed from labor; Black fun dips into the thing to have a good time while working." We can clearly notice this in the film. The ending suggests the T-Birds and Pink Ladies will stay on this high school path, but there's no real sense of daily life hardship.