#she loves DRAMA. AND FLAIR | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peavhyshy · 22 days ago

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⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - THE LOVE CLUB (pt.1)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 paring ─ ୨୧ ─ heir!rafe cameron ⋆ life!coach!reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ love island au - in which love island contestants, you and Rafe, are drawn to each other despite being coupled up with other people, leading to heightened tension and drama in the villa.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ angst, drama, explicit language, suggestive language, sexual tension, love triangle, alcohol use, competitive/aggressive behavior, jealousy/possessiveness. mention of substance abuse. mention of family dysfunction, manipulation/deception, and pick me behaviors.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 15,791

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ this skips around a lot, it's not clear what day it is but according to people who actually go on the show that's accurate so whatever. part 2 coming out before or after Christmas. also, if you do celebrate christmas, hope you have a great time.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔.:･The Love Club･:.ೃ࿔.⋆❀°

(༝༚༝༚ lorde)

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The sun beams down on the pristine villa courtyard as the contestants gather for their first challenge. Rafe lounged on one of the plush outdoor sofas, his expensive designer swim shorts and carefully styled hair marking him as distinctly out of place among the more casual islanders.

Sarah Hyland stepped onto the challenge platform, her heels clicking against the decorative tiles. "Islanders! Welcome to your first challenge - 'Spill the Tea'!"

"Each of you will take turns reading a secret about someone in the villa," Sarah continued, gesturing to the ornate box of cards placed center stage. "If you guess correctly, you can pour this lovely pitcher of 'tea' over them. And trust me, these secrets are... explosive."

The ten contestants arranged themselves on the stools, Rafe's fingers drummed against his thigh, his other hand adjusting one of his gold rings.

"I'll go first!" volunteered Emma, a kindergarten teacher practically bouncing off her stool excitedly. Her cotton candy pink bikini matched her equally bubble-gum personality. She reached into the box, pulling out the first card with theatrical flair.

"Ooh, this is interesting," she giggled, clearing her throat. "This islander once crashed their father's luxury yacht while trying to impress a date."

Rafe's jaw clenched involuntarily, his eyes narrowing as several heads turned toward him. The memory of that particular incident - and the subsequent screaming match with Ward - flashed unwelcome through his mind.

"That's got to be Richie Rich over there," drawled Marcus, the personal trainer and chef, jerking his thumb toward Rafe. "Am I right?"

Emma clapped her hands together. "Correct! Sorry Rafe, but it's tea time!"

As she approached the pitcher, Rafe's entire body tensed. The cold liquid splashed over his shoulders, and for a brief moment, his mask slipped - revealing a flash of genuine rage before he forced out a laugh that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Real mature," he muttered, pushing his wet hair back from his forehead. Lilly, the girl he’s coupled up with, reached over to sympathetically pat his arm, but he shrugged her off with barely concealed irritation.

"Next up," Sarah announced, maintaining her host's enthusiasm, "James, you're up!"

The motorcycle trainer moved forward, his tattooed arms flexing as he selected a card. He unfolded the card, a mischievous glint in his eye as he scanned the contents.

"This islander," he read slowly, building suspense, "once got fired from their job for starting an unauthorized therapy session during a corporate team-building exercise."

Rafe's attention immediately snapped to you, his fingers absently twisting one of his gold rings. He watched as several other contestants shifted their gazes between you and the others, clearly trying to piece together who might've done something so boldly inappropriate.

"Got to be our resident life coach," Rafe called out before anyone else could speak, his voice carrying that distinctive entitled drawl he'd perfected over years of private school education. The corner of his mouth twitched into something between a smirk and a sneer as he adjusted his still-damp designer swim shorts.

"Correct!" Sarah announced, her voice carrying across the villa's outdoor space. "James, go ahead and serve that tea!"

As James readied the pitcher of cold tea, you let out a genuine laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well damn, you got me!" You stood up from your spot and smiled. "But for the record, that corporate team needed way more help than HR was willing to admit."

The other islanders chuckled as James approached the pitcher. You raised your hands in mock surrender, your black bikini already glistening with sweat from the sun. "At least make it quick!" You called out, closing your eyes as the cold liquid splashed over your skin.

"Fuck!" You gasp, wiping tear from your face while laughing. You glanced over at Rafe, still damp from his tea shower. "Good catch there, Cameron. I see you've been paying attention," you teased, wringing out your hair. "Though I'm starting to think these producers are just trying to get us all wet."

Lilly giggled from her position next to Rafe, her perfectly manicured fingers trailing along his forearm. "Babe, how did you know that one so fast?"

Emma leaned forward on her stool. "I mean, it kind of makes sense. Like, imagine being stuck in some boring meeting and suddenly someone's trying to psychoanalyze your childhood trauma."

"Some people just can't help themselves," Rafe drawled, his tone dripping with calculated disdain. His comment earned a few uncomfortable chuckles from the other contestants.

The game continued, with the social media manager Blake drawing the next card. "This islander," she read, "has a trust fund worth over fifty million dollars but has never held a real job."

Rafe's entire body tensed, his knuckles whitening around the edge of his stool. The familiar anger bubbled just beneath his carefully maintained surface, threatening to crack his composed exterior. He could feel the weight of the cameras tracking his reaction, waiting for him to snap - just like everyone always expected him to.

"Come on," he muttered under his breath, his leg resuming its anxious bouncing. The morning had barely started, and already he could feel the familiar itch under his skin, the one that usually led him to make regrettable decisions back home. The kind that Ward would have to clean up with carefully placed phone calls and generous donations.

The tension in the air grew thicker as Blake's eyes scanned the group, clearly weighing her options.

You sat perched on your stool. "Well, that's obviously Rafe," You spoke up, your voice carrying across the challenge area. Your eyes fixed on him with an amused glint. "I mean, the designer swim shorts kind of gave it away." You gestured toward his expensive attire, earning a few snickers from the other contestants.

"Time for more tea!" Sarah announced with exaggerated enthusiasm. As Blake approached with the pitcher, you couldn't help but notice how Rafe's jaw clenched, his knuckles whitening around the edge of his stool.

"Looks like someone's having a rough morning," You commented. His barely contained rage was evident in the way his eyes darkened, a muscle twitching in his cheek.

Emma leaned over to whisper something to Marcus, but your attention remained fixed on Rafe. As a life coach, you’d dealt with plenty of volatile personalities before, but something about the way he carried his anger - like a loaded weapon ready to go off - made you wonder what exactly was simmering beneath that carefully maintained surface.

"Oh, someone's feeling brave today," Lilly chimed in, tossing her platinum-blonde hair over her shoulder. The Instagram model's voice dripped with manufactured drama as she shifted closer to Rafe on her stool. "I mean, at least he earned his trust fund. What's your claim to fame? Giving pep talks?"

You rolled your eyes, wringing out the last drops of tea from your hair. "Honey, I help people become their best selves. But clearly, some need more help than others." Your gaze flickered meaningfully between Lilly and Rafe.

Finn the travel photographer let out a low whistle. "Damn, the life coach's got claws!" He high-fived Lee the accountant, their muscled arms flexing in the sunlight. "This is way better than watching rich boy sulk all morning."

"Can we just get on with it?" Rafe snapped, his voice tight with barely controlled anger.

"Ooh, my turn!" Lilly reached for a card, "This islander once..." she trailed off, eyes widening. "Oh wow. This islander once punched a hole through their bedroom wall after losing a golf tournament.

Aish the research chemist gasped dramatically. "Another Rafe special?" She turned to you with an exaggerated whisper. "Girl, I think your professional services might be needed here."

All eyes turned to Rafe. You watched as his fingers pressed harder against his chest, his breathing becoming more rapid. You recognized the signs of an impending anxiety attack, but before you could say anything, Rafe stood up abruptly, knocking his stool backward.

"Fuck this," he snarled, storming away from the challenge area. He disappeared into the villa, leaving a wake of stunned silence behind him.

Sarah cleared her throat awkwardly. "Well, islanders, let's take a quick break, shall we?"

As the other contestants dispersed, whispering among themselves, You remained seated, your eyes fixed on the villa entrance where Rafe had vanished.

"That was intense," James commented, moving to stand beside you. "You really got under his skin."

You shook your head slightly, your wet hair leaving droplets on the tiles. "That wasn't about me," you reply softly. "That's about something much deeper." You stood up, adjusting your bikini. "And I think it's about to explode."

You lounge by the pristine infinity pool, your skin glistening with a light sheen of tanning oil. James sat beside you on the adjacent lounge, his tattooed arms flexing as he adjusted the umbrella to better shade you both.

"I'm just saying," James continued your discussion about the morning's drama, his voice low enough that the microphones would struggle to pick it up, "the way he stormed off was intense. Like, who gets that worked up over a game?" His fingers absently traced patterns on your shoulder, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the figure aggressively lifting weights nearby.

Rafe's jaw clenched as he watched the interaction, nearly dropping the dumbbell he was curling. Lilly hovered around him like an attention-starved butterfly. "Babe, you're going to hurt yourself if you keep lifting that heavy," she pouted, reaching for his arm. "Besides, I thought we could maybe go somewhere more... private?"

Your trained eye caught every micro-expression that crossed his face. The way his nostrils flared slightly when James leaned closer to whisper something in your ear. The tightening of his grip on the weights when you laughed in response.

"You know what's funny?" James mused, his fingers now playing with a strand of your hair. "I don't think he's actually interested in Lilly at all. Man's spent more time staring over here than at his partner." He paused, studying your face. "Unless it's not me he's watching."

Rafe abandoned his workout entirely, stalking toward the pool with Lilly trailing behind him like a designer-clad shadow. His blue eyes locked with yours for a brief, electric moment before he dove into the water, the splash deliberately sending droplets toward their loungers.

"Real mature," You called out, but there was an undercurrent of amusement in your voice that made Rafe's eyes narrow as he surfaced. Water ran down his chest, his wet hair falling into his eyes in a way that somehow managed to make him look even more attractive – and he knew it.

"Oh my god, Rafe!" Lilly squealed, hovering at the pool's edge. "You got my new bikini wet!" She shot a venomous glare at you as if somehow this was your fault. "This is designer!"

James snorted, pulling you closer in a possessive gesture that made Rafe's hands curl into fists beneath the water. "Everything here is designer, babe," he says. "Including some people's personalities."

Rafe hoisted himself out of the pool, his eyes never leaving your face, even as Lilly rushed to hand him a towel.

"At least my personality didn't get me fired," Rafe shot back, his voice carrying that distinctive mix of arrogance and barely contained aggression. "Some of us actually know how to maintain professional boundaries."

"And some of us," you replied smoothly, "know how to process our emotions without putting holes in walls." Your eyes sparkled with a challenge as you watched his jaw clench at the reference to the morning's revelation.

James's arm tightened around your waist, his expression falling as he watched the exchange. "Babe," he murmured in your ear, just loud enough for the microphones to catch, "maybe we should take this somewhere more private?" His suggestion was clearly meant for Rafe's benefit, and judging by the way the other man's knuckles whitened around his towel, it had the desired effect.

"Actually," You stood up, stretching languidly, "I think I need a swim too." You moved toward the pool with fluid grace, very aware of how Rafe's eyes tracked your movement. "Unless someone's afraid of a little competition?"

"Afraid?" Rafe scoffed, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he took a step closer to the pool's edge. "Of what exactly? Your amateur lap swimming?" His blue eyes raked over your form with barely concealed interest, despite Lilly's attempts to recapture his attention.

You gracefully slipped into the water, the cool liquid a welcome relief from the afternoon heat. "Amateur? Please," you laughed, pushing your wet hair back from your face. "I was captain of my college swim team. But hey, if you're not up for it..."

"Y/N, babe," James called from his lounger, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest. "Don't waste your time. Richie Rich never had to actually compete for anything in his life."

Rafe's jaw clenched at the comment. "First one to the other end and back," he said, diving into the pool with practiced precision. "Unless you're all talk, life coach."

"Rafe!" Lilly whined, stamping her foot. "We were supposed to go get ready for dinner!" Her complaints fell on deaf ears as you and Rafe lined up at the pool's edge, your bodies coiled with competitive energy.

Other islanders began gathering around the pool, drawn by the mounting tension. Emma clapped excitedly from her spot next to Marcus. "Oh my god, this is like the Olympics but with sexual tension!"

"On your mark," James called out, his voice tight with irritation. "Get set..." He paused, watching as you both swimmers tensed, ready to spring forward. "Go!"

Water exploded around you as you pushed off, your bodies cutting through the crystal-clear pool in powerful strokes. You matched Rafe stroke for stroke, your competitive energy is palpable even underwater. You reached the far end, executing near-perfect turns within split seconds of each other.

"Come on, Rafe!" Lilly's shrill voice carried across the water. "Show her what you've got!"

The return lap was even more intense, your bodies practically parallel as you both surged toward the finish. You could feel Rafe's presence beside you, the water churning between you as you both gave everything you had. Your hands slapped the pool's edge simultaneously, sending a spray of water over the gathered crowd.

"It's a tie!" Finn shouted, earning a chorus of excited reactions from the other islanders. "Holy shit, that was intense!"

You and Rafe trod water, both breathing heavily as you stared at each other. Droplets ran down Rafe's face, his eyes with something that wasn't just competitive spirit.

"Not bad for an amateur," You teased as you moved closer to the pool's edge, "Beginner's luck," Rafe shot back, but there was a new note in his voice that made James shift uncomfortably on his lounger. "Best two out of three?"

Before you could respond, Lilly's voice cut through the tension. "Seriously? We have to get ready for dinner!" She grabbed Rafe's towel, holding it out like a peace offering. "Come on, babe. You've proved your point."

The moment shattered as reality reasserted itself. The other islanders began dispersing, chattering about the impromptu race. James appeared at the pool's edge, offering you his hand.

"Thanks," you murmured, accepting his help but not missing how Rafe's expression darkened at the gesture. Water ran down your skin as you stood, the late afternoon sun casting golden highlights across your shoulders.

"Whatever," Rafe muttered, hauling himself out of the pool with fluid grace. He snatched the towel from Lilly's hands, his jaw working as he watched James wrap his towel around your shoulders. "Dinner it is."

The glam room buzzed with excited chatter and the whir of hair dryers as the five girls prepared for dinner. Lilly perched at the main vanity, meticulously applying her third coat of mascara while boring everyone with tales of her poolside encounters with Rafe.

"And then he just, like, totally showed off his muscles during that workout," Lilly gushed, adjusting her hot pink mini-dress. "I mean, did you see how he was looking at me? He's obviously totally into me."

You sat cross-legged on one of the plush ottoman chairs, applying a light coat of mascara to your lashes. The reflection in the mirror caught your subtle eye roll as Lilly continued her monologue. You’d chosen a simple but elegant black dress maintaining an air of sophistication.

"Girl, are you sure about that?" Blake interjected, pausing in the middle of curling her dark hair. "Because from where I was sitting, he seemed more interested in..." she trailed off, shooting a meaningful glance at you through the mirror.

Emma, who was struggling with her false eyelashes, piped up from her spot on the floor. "Oh my god, that pool race though! The tension was, like, totally insane!" She giggled, nudging your leg. "James looked ready to throw hands!"

"Please," Lilly scoffed, now aggressively applying lip gloss. "Rafe was just being competitive. He likes to win, that's all. Right, Aish?"

Aish, who had been quietly perfecting her winged eyeliner, looked up with a knowing smile. "If by 'competitive' you mean 'eye-fucking Y/N the entire time,' then sure, honey."

"What?!" Lilly spun around so fast that she nearly knocked over her makeup bag. "That's ridiculous! Tell them, Y/N. Nothing is going on there, right?"

You carefully applied a coat of lipstick, taking your time before responding. "I don't know what you want me to say, Lilly. I'm coupled up with James, remember?" You stood up to smooth down your dress, the fabric clinging in all the right places.

"Besides," Blake added, unplugging her curling iron, "didn't Rafe basically ignore you the entire time you were trying to get his attention at the pool?"

"He was focused on his workout!" Lilly protested, but her voice had taken on a slightly hysterical edge. "And anyway, he chose me at the coupling, so obviously-"

"Because Y/N was already coupled up with James," Emma pointed out, finally managing to attach her second eyelash. "Come on, Lilly, even the cameras caught those looks they were giving each other."

"You're all just jealous," Lilly snapped, gathering her makeup with shaking hands. "Rafe and I have a connection. You'll see at dinner tonight. I'm wearing his favorite color and everything!"

You caught Aish's eye in the mirror, both of you sharing a knowing look. Lilly stormed out, her pink dress flouncing dramatically.

"Well," Blake drawled, applying the finishing touches to her hair, "dinner should be interesting." She turned to you with a sly smile. "Especially since you look absolutely killer in that dress, hun."

"James is a lucky man," Emma agreed, but her tone suggested she wasn't thinking about James at all.

You finished touching up your makeup and couldn't help but wonder what Rafe would think of your outfit choice - not that it mattered, of course. You were coupled up with James, after all.

But as you gave yourself one final look in the mirror, adjusting the delicate gold necklace that drew attention to your collarbone, you couldn't quite silence the small voice in your head that wondered if Rafe would notice.

The kitchen buzzed with activity as the guys prepared dinner, pots clanging and the sizzle of food filling the air. Rafe leaned against the marble counter, his fitted black button-down shirt rolled up at the sleeves, watching the others work with barely concealed disdain.

"Mate, you could actually help instead of just standing there," Marcus called out, chopping vegetables with practiced precision. His chef's background was evident in the way he coordinated the meal preparation. "Or is cooking beneath the trust fund baby?"

James snorted from his position at the stove, stirring a pot of sauce. "Probably never had to cook a day in his life, right Rafe?" He shot a challenging look over his shoulder, his tattooed arms flexing as he worked.

"I have people for that," Rafe drawled, taking a long sip from his wine glass. His eyes tracked the movement in the kitchen with calculated disinterest. "Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't poison everyone."

Lee, who was attempting to plate appetizers, rolled his eyes. "Right, because standing there looking pretty is such hard work." He carefully arranged prosciutto on a platter, his focus intense. "How does Lilly put up with your attitude?"

"Speaking of putting up with people," Finn chimed in, pausing in his task of chopping herbs, "what was that pool situation about earlier?" His eyes darted between Rafe and James, testing the waters.

The tension in the kitchen shifted immediately. James's grip on the wooden spoon tightened noticeably, while Rafe's casual posture became more rigid. "Just a friendly competition," Rafe replied, but there was an edge to his voice that suggested otherwise. His fingers absently played with one of his gold rings, a sign of his agitation.

Marcus laughed, the sound cutting through the tension. "Friendly? You looked ready to drown each other." He pointed his knife at James. "And you weren't exactly thrilled about your girl getting cozy with Mr. Wall-Puncher here."

"Watch it," Rafe snapped, his composure cracking slightly. He set his wine glass down with more force than necessary, the sound echoing through the kitchen.

"Or what?" James turned from the stove, his expression challenging. "Gonna put another hole in the wall? Maybe throw a tantrum and storm off again?"

Lee stepped between them, holding up his hands. "Guys, come on. The girls will be down any minute. Can we not turn dinner into a testosterone-fueled disaster?"

"Too late," Finn muttered, just as the sound of heels clicking on tile announced the arrival of the girls. James immediately moved to greet you, but not before catching the way Rafe's breath hitched slightly, his fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. Lilly bounced in behind you, her pink dress a stark contrast to your choice.

"Something smells amazing!" Emma exclaimed, trying to break the obvious tension as she entered with Blake and Aish.

"Yeah," Marcus drawled, his eyes moving between Rafe and you. "Something definitely does."

The kitchen fell into an awkward silence, broken only by the bubbling of pots on the stove. Everyone gathered around the long dining table. Marcus proudly presented his carefully crafted main course - a perfectly seared sea bass with roasted Mediterranean vegetables.

"Alright everyone, dig in!" he announced, beaming with pride as plates were passed around. "And yes, before anyone asks, I did most of the actual cooking while some people just supervised." He shot a playful glance at Rafe.

Emma clapped excitedly as she took her first bite. "Oh my god, Marcus! This is incredible!" Her enthusiasm was infectious, drawing genuine smiles from around the table. "You could totally be on MasterChef!"

"Please don't inflate his ego more than necessary," Blake teased, reaching for the wine bottle. "He already thinks being a professional chef makes him Gordon Ramsay."

The evening continued with stories, laughter, and several bottles of wine. As dinner wound down, Emma suggested they all play a game of Never Have I Ever, earning both groans and excited agreements from around the table.

"Never have I ever..." Emma giggled, holding up her wine glass. "Had sex in public!"

The villa's outdoor dining area erupted in a chorus of groans and laughs as several islanders, including you and Rafe, took long sips from your glasses.

"Okay, spill!" Blake demanded, pointing at you. "Where was it?"

Before you could answer, Rafe's voice cut through the chatter, his eyes fixed intently on you. "Let me guess - some corporate team-building exercise got really out of hand?" His smirk was challenging, provocative.

"Never have I ever," Marcus interrupted quickly, sensing the mounting tension, "hooked up with someone just for their money."

Lilly's perfectly manicured hand hesitated halfway to her glass, earning several raised eyebrows. Rafe didn't move to drink, but his jaw clenched noticeably.

"Never have I ever," Aish continued, her dark eyes sparkling mischievously, "fantasized about someone else's partner in here."

The silence that followed was deafening, Rafe's fingers tightened around his glass before he deliberately raised it to his lips, maintaining eye contact with you as he drank.

James's arm around your waist tightened as Lilly's voice rose to a shrill pitch. "Rafe! What the hell?"

"It's just a game, babe," His eyes never left your face. "Besides, everyone's thinking about it. I'm just honest enough to admit it."

"Never have I ever," Lee jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation, "gotten fired from a job." He shot an apologetic look at you. "Sorry, but that story was too good not to bring up again."

"Never have I ever," Finn announced, "wanted to punch someone in this villa." His eyes darted between Rafe and James meaningfully.

Both men drank without hesitation, their mutual animosity barely concealed beneath the surface of forced civility. The other islanders watched with bated breath, waiting to see if this would be the moment the tension finally snapped.

"Never have I ever," Blake declared, her voice cutting through the thick atmosphere, "kissed someone just to make someone else jealous."

The game paused as everyone waited to see who would drink. The cameras captured every subtle glance and loaded moment as glasses were raised or remained untouched, telling stories without words.

The Love Island bedroom was dimly lit, filled with the soft sounds of sleeping contestants and the occasional rustle of sheets. Rafe lay rigid in his bed, hyper-aware of Lilly's presence beside him as she slept soundly, one arm draped possessively across his chest. The white silk sheets felt suffocating in the warm night, but that wasn't what kept him awake.

His eyes fixed on the ceiling, tracking the shadows cast by moonlight filtering through the villa's windows. Three beds over, he could make out your silhouette, your hair spilling across your pillow. James's muscled arm was wrapped around your waist, and the sight made Rafe's jaw clench involuntarily. His fingers twisted in the sheets, fighting the urge to get up and pace - a habit he'd developed during particularly bad nights back home.

You shifted in the bed, careful not to wake James as you adjusted your position. The thin black silk nightgown you wore rode up slightly, drawing Rafe's attention before he forced his gaze back to the ceiling.

Lilly stirred beside Rafe, murmuring his name as she pressed closer. He resisted the urge to push her away, instead lying perfectly still as memories of the day's events played through his mind. The pool race, the loaded glances during dinner, the way your dress had clung to you.

Across the room, you found yourself equally restless. James's arm felt heavy around your waist, his breath warm against your neck. But your thoughts kept drifting to blue eyes and gold rings, to the way Rafe had looked at you during the drinking game. You could feel his gaze on her even now, burning through the darkness that separated your beds.

The night stretched on endlessly, filled with unspoken tension and desires that couldn't be acted upon.

The morning sun streamed through the glam room windows as the girls went about their usual routines. You sat cross-legged in front of your vanity, carefully applying eyeshadow while Blake and Emma debated the merits of different self-tanner brands. Aish was attempting to teach Lilly how to properly contour when Rafe appeared in the doorway, a plate of elaborately prepared avocado toast in hand.

"Special delivery," he announced, his voice carrying that familiar hint of arrogance. He was already dressed for the day in fitted swim shorts and an unbuttoned linen shirt that showed off his chest. His gold rings caught the light as he handed Lilly the plate.

"Oh my god, babe!" Lilly squealed, abandoning her makeup to inspect the breakfast. "You actually cooked? This is like, so totally romantic!" She bounced excitedly, her pink silk robe fluttering around her thighs.

You caught Rafe's reflection in your mirror as he leaned against the doorframe, his eyes flickering between Lilly's excited chatter and your carefully neutral expression.

"I thought you didn't cook," Blake commented innocently, though her tone suggested nothing innocent about the observation. "Wasn't it just yesterday you were too good to help with dinner?"

"Maybe he's turning over a new leaf," Emma giggled, nudging Aish with her elbow.

Lilly took a big bite of the toast, making exaggerated sounds of appreciation. "This is amazing! See? My man can do anything he sets his mind to." She preened under Rafe's attention, though his gaze seemed more focused on the way your silk robe had slipped slightly off one shoulder.

"Anything?" Aish raised an eyebrow, her voice dripping with suggestion. "Like staying faithful to his partner, perhaps?"

Rafe's jaw clenched, his fingers drumming against the doorframe in that nervous tick of his. "Just wanted to make sure my girl was taken care of," he drawled, but his eyes betrayed him as they drifted once again to your reflection.

"How thoughtful," You finally spoke, your voice carefully neutral as you applied some lip gloss. "Though I have to wonder what inspired this sudden domestic gesture."

The unspoken challenge in your words hung heavy in the air. Lilly's excited chatter about the breakfast faded into background noise as Rafe and you held each other's gaze in the mirror, the intensity of your eye contact making the other girls shift uncomfortably.

"Sometimes," Rafe replied, his voice low and loaded with meaning, "a man just wants to show his appreciation." His emphasis on the word 'his' was subtle but unmistakable.

Blake coughed dramatically, breaking the moment. "Well, this has been fun, but I think we should finish getting ready. The boys are probably waiting by the pool."

"Right," Rafe straightened, his casual demeanor returning like a mask sliding back into place. "Enjoy your breakfast, babe." He dropped a quick kiss on Lilly's head before leaving, but not before one final glance at your reflection.

As his footsteps faded down the hallway, Emma let out a low whistle. "Girl," she addressed Lilly, who was still happily munching her toast, "I don't think that breakfast was meant for you."

You carefully closed your lipgloss tube, your expression unreadable.

The villa's backyard had been transformed into a makeshift stage, complete with a single chair positioned center stage and colorful strobe lights. The men sat lined up, shirtless and wearing heart rate monitors strapped to their chests, their nervous energy palpable. Rafe lounged in his designated spot, affecting an air of casual indifference despite the slight tension in his jaw.

Sarah stood beside an oversized wheel adorned with all the girls' names, her enthusiasm infectious as she addressed the group. "Alright, islanders! Time for our sexiest challenge yet - the Heart Rate Monitor! Let's see who can get these boys' hearts racing!"

James shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his tattooed arms crossed over his chest as he watched the wheel spin. The tension mounted as it slowly came to a stop, landing on your name.

"And our first dancer will be... Y/N! And she'll be dancing for..." Sarah spun a second wheel with the boys' names. The wheel turned seemingly endlessly before landing on Rafe's name with a decisive click. "Rafe!"

You walk over wearing a black lace bodysuit your skin gleamed under the stage lights. "Remember," Sarah announced, "the boy with the highest heart rate spike wins a special prize for himself and the girl who caused it!"

His eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made the air crackle with electricity, his hands gripping the sides of the chair with barely contained tension.

The opening notes of "Pony" by Ginuwine filled the air as you began to move. The heart rate monitor's steady beeping began to increase as you circled his chair, your fingers trailing across his shoulders.

"Oh my god," Emma whispered loudly enough for the microphones to catch. "His heart rate is already at 90!"

You move with fluid grace as you position yourself between Rafe's legs. His breathing visibly hitched as you rolled your body against his chest, your hands sliding up his arms to pin his wrists to the chair.

The monitor's beeping increased rapidly as you lowered yourself onto his lap, grinding slowly to the music. Rafe's mask of indifference cracked as you threaded your fingers through his hair, tugging his head back to expose his neck. His heart rate spiked to 120 when you traced your lips along his jaw, never quite making contact.

"Fucking hell," Marcus muttered, watching the numbers climb on the display. "Man's about to have a heart attack."

James's expression darkened as you executed a perfect body roll against Rafe's chest, your back arching as you pulled away only to drop back down onto his lap. The monitor hit 135 as Rafe's hands instinctively moved to your hips before you quickly pinned them back to the chair.

"No touching," you whispered, loud enough for the microphones to pick up. The smirk in your voice was evident as Rafe's heart rate jumped to 140.

Lilly stood fuming at the side of the stage, her face growing redder with each beep of the monitor. "This is ridiculous! She's obviously trying too hard!"

The song reached its climax as you performed one final grinding motion against Rafe's lap before pulling away completely, leaving him visibly affected in his seat. The monitor showed a final spike of 150 before beginning to slowly decrease.

"Well!" Sarah announced, barely containing her excitement. "I think we have our number to beat! Rafe's heart rate peaked at 150 - that's our highest spike yet!"

The cameras captured every reaction: Rafe's attempts to regain his composure, James's barely contained anger, Lilly's outrage, and your satisfied smirk. As the challenge continued, the tension in the villa's backyard reached a fever pitch. Lilly was up next, strutting onto the stage in a purple lingerie that left little to the imagination. Her dance for Rafe barely registered a 95 on the heart rate monitor.

"Next up," Sarah announced, trying to maintain the show's energy despite the growing drama, "let's see who's dancing for James!"

The wheel spun again, landing on Blake. Her performance was sultry but safe, earning a respectable 110 on James's monitor. But everyone noticed how his eyes kept drifting to where you stood with the other girls, your black lace bodysuit still drawing attention.

"This is such bullshit," Lilly hissed loud enough for the microphones to catch. "She obviously practiced that routine beforehand. Like, who even moves like that naturally?"

Emma, who had just finished a playful routine for Marcus that earned a 105, patted Lilly's shoulder sympathetically. "Hun, I don't think practice was what got his heart racing..."

The challenge continued with each girl taking their turn, but none came close to matching the spike you had caused in Rafe's heart rate.

"And now," Sarah declared as the final performances wrapped up, "it's time to announce our winners! With a heart rate spike of 150 beats per minute, Y/N and Rafe have won tonight's challenge!"

Rafe maintained his casual stance, but his eyes burned with intensity as he watched James's hands on your waist.

"Your prize," Sarah continued, "is a romantic dinner for two in the private dining area!" She paused for dramatic effect. "However, you'll each be taking your current partners, not each other."

The relief on James and Lilly's faces was palpable, but the cameras didn't miss the flash of disappointment that crossed both Rafe and your expressions.

"Congratulations," Rafe drawled as he passed you, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "Nice moves, life coach. Didn't know they taught that in corporate training."

Before you could respond, Lilly appeared at his side, practically dragging him toward the villa. James's arm tightened around your waist as he watched them go, the muscle in his jaw twitching with barely contained anger.

"Well," Blake commented to no one in particular, "dinner should be interesting."

Later that night after your dinner with James you made your way toward the outdoor daybed. The cameras tracked your movement through the darkness, catching the slight hesitation in your steps as you approached the familiar figure already lounging there.

Rafe sat with one leg propped up, his gold rings glinting in the moonlight as he absently twisted them around his fingers. He wore black silk pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt that did little to hide his frame. His blue eyes followed your approach, taking in your oversized t-shirt and sleep shorts.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked, his voice lacking its usual arrogant edge. The night seemed to have stripped away some of his carefully maintained facade, leaving something more raw and vulnerable in its place.

You settled onto the opposite end of the daybed, tucking your legs beneath you. "Too many thoughts," you admitted, your eyes studying his face in the dim light. "That dinner was..."

"Fucking awful," Rafe finished, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "Lilly wouldn't stop crying about the heart rate thing. Like I could control it or something." He paused, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Though I guess James wasn't much better?"

"He kept trying to prove something," you sighed, absently playing with the hem of your shirt. "Making sure everyone saw how 'together' we are. It was exhausting."

"My dad would love this," Rafe suddenly spoke, his voice taking on a harder edge. "His fuck-up son making a mess of things on national television. Another disappointment to add to the list."

Your training as a life coach kicked in automatically. "Tell me about him," you encouraged softly, recognizing the pain beneath his sarcasm.

Rafe was quiet for so long you thought he wouldn't answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. "Nothing's ever good enough for him. Sarah - my sister - she's the golden child. Can't do anything wrong. Me?" He laughed humorlessly. "I'm just the family embarrassment he has to keep cleaning up after."

"Is that why you..." you gestured vaguely at his chest, where his hand often went during moments of anxiety.

"The panic attacks?" Rafe's jaw clenched. "Started after Mom died. Dad remarried within a year - couldn't have the press thinking the great Ward Cameron was anything less than perfect." His fingers unconsciously moved to his chest as he spoke. "Rose tried, I guess. But she wasn't Mom."

The vulnerability in his voice made you shift closer instinctively. "My dad left when I was eight," you offered quietly. "Just... walked out one day and never came back. Mom had to work three jobs to keep us afloat."

Rafe's eyes met yours in the darkness, something shifting in their depths. "Is that why you became a life coach? Trying to fix broken people?"

"Maybe," you admitted. "Or maybe I'm just trying to fix myself."

"Sometimes," Rafe confessed, his voice rough with emotion, "I think about just walking away from all of it. The company, the expectations, the whole fucking Cameron legacy." His hands shook slightly as he ran them through his hair. "But then what would I be?"

You reached out without thinking, your hand covering his. "Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is choose ourselves."

The touch sent electricity through both of you, the chemistry you’d been fighting suddenly impossible to ignore. Rafe's fingers intertwined with yours, neither of you pulling away despite knowing you should. You listen intently as he talks about his drug addiction.

"It started after a particularly bad fight with Ward," he finally spoke, his voice rough. "He'd just promoted Sarah to junior executive, completely bypassing me. Again." His bitter laugh cut through the darkness. "Barry - this dealer I knew from college - he was at this party I went to. Said he had something that would make everything stop hurting for a while."

You remained silent, your thumb unconsciously stroking the back of his hand as he continued.

"First time was... fuck, it was like everything finally made sense, you know?" His eyes looked almost black in the darkness. "All the pressure, all the disappointment, all of Ward's fucking expectations - they just disappeared. For a few hours, I could breathe."

He pulled his hand away to run it through his hair. "But then you need more. And more. And suddenly you're calling Barry at 3 AM because you can't handle being in your skin without it."

"The holes in the walls," You spoke softly, understanding dawning in your eyes. "They weren't just about anger, were they?"

"Cocaine's a hell of a drug. Makes you feel invincible one minute, then you're punching walls the next because the crash is so fucking bad." His hands were shaking now, the gold rings catching the moonlight as he twisted them. "Ward tried to buy Barry off, of course. Throw money at the problem like always. But by then..."

"You were already addicted," You finished gently.

"Seven months clean now," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not that anyone in there would believe it." He gestured toward the villa where your fellow islanders slept. "Easier to just be the rich fuck-up everyone expects."

The weight of his confession hung heavy in the air between you. You shifted closer, drawn by an instinct to comfort that went beyond your professional training. The daybed creaked slightly under your combined weight.

"Is that why you came here?" You asked softly. "To prove something?"

"Maybe," he admitted, his vulnerability striking in its rawness. "Or maybe I'm just trying to escape Ward's shadow for a while. Fat lot of good that's doing." His bitter laugh held an edge of self-loathing. "Still fucking everything up, aren't I?"

Without thinking, you reached up to cup his face, forcing him to meet your eyes. "Hey, you're seven months clean. That's not nothing, Rafe. That's strength."

The touch seemed to break something in him. His hand came up to cover yours, his eyes intense with a mix of vulnerability and desire. You sat frozen in that moment, both of you acutely aware of how close you’d gotten.

The night stretched on as you continued talking, sharing pieces of yourselves you’d kept hidden from the cameras and other islanders. The weight of your respective partners sleeping inside the villa seemed to fade away.

The early morning sunlight filtered through the villa's kitchen windows as you and Rafe moved around each other with surprising synchronicity.

"Pass me those eggs," Rafe murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. He wore sweatpants and a white t-shirt, his hair adorably mussed from the few hours of sleep you’d managed after your late-night conversation.

You reached across him to grab the eggs. "I thought you didn't cook," you teased, referencing his earlier claims.

"I said I had people for that," he corrected, a genuine smile softening his usually sharp features. "Didn't say I couldn't." His hands moved with unexpected confidence as he diced vegetables for an omelet.

The kitchen was filled with the sizzle of bacon and the rich aroma of brewing coffee.

"You're doing it wrong," Rafe commented, moving behind you to adjust your grip on the whisk. His chest pressed against your back as he guided your hands in a circular motion. "Like this - it makes the eggs fluffier."

"Where did you really learn to cook?" You asked softly, aware of the sleeping islanders and not wanting to break the peaceful morning atmosphere. You began plating the first batch of omelets while Rafe handled the bacon.

His jaw tightened slightly before answering. "Mom taught me," he admitted quietly. "Before she got sick. Sunday mornings were our thing - just us in the kitchen while everyone else slept in."

Your hand found his arm, squeezing gently in understanding. The touch lingered longer than necessary, both of you hyper-aware of the contact.

The peaceful moment was interrupted by footsteps on the stairs. You moved apart naturally, though something intimate remained in the air between you both. Emma appeared first, her eyes widening at the spread of food.

"Oh my god, this smells amazing!" she exclaimed, though keeping her voice low for the others still sleeping.

More islanders began trickling in, drawn by the smell of breakfast. James appeared and Lilly wasn't far behind, immediately attaching herself to Rafe's arm.

"Babe, you made breakfast?" she squealed, too loud for the early hour. "That's so sweet!"

"Actually," You started, but Rafe caught your eye with a subtle shake of his head. You understood - let Lilly have this moment. Some truths were better kept between you like whispered confessions under starlight.

"Morning lovebirds," Finn called out as he descended the stairs, his camera dangling from his neck as usual. His eyes took in the domestic scene before him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Something smells amazing."

Marcus followed close behind, already in his workout gear. "Damn, who knew Richie Rich could cook?" He grabbed a plate, piling it high with eggs and bacon. "This is actually good, man."

"Don't sound so surprised," Rafe drawled, though his usual sharp edge was softened by the early morning atmosphere. He moved around you to reach the coffee pot, your bodies brushing in a way that didn't go unnoticed by the newcomers.

Aish entered next, her silk robe trailing elegantly behind her. "Mmm, proper breakfast for once instead of protein shakes," she teased, nudging Marcus playfully. Her dark eyes tracked the subtle dance between you and Rafe as you navigated the kitchen space.

"Is that fresh coffee?" Blake appeared, making a beeline for the pot. "Thank god. I thought I was going to have to suffer through another morning of instant." She accepted the mug Rafe handed her, raising an eyebrow at how naturally he and you worked together.

Lee stumbled in last, still half-asleep. "Food," he mumbled, dropping into a chair at the kitchen island. "Need food."

"Here," You handed him a plate of perfectly fluffy eggs, your movement bringing you close to Rafe again. Your fingers brushed as you reached for another plate, "So," Finn spoke up, his photographer's eye missing nothing, "how long have you two been up? Must have taken ages to prepare all this."

Lilly's grip on Rafe's arm tightened possessively. "My baby just wanted to do something nice for everyone, didn't you?"

"Actually-" You started again, but this time it was Blake who cut you off.

"Please, Lilly. We all know Rafe wasn't alone in this kitchen this morning." She took a deliberate sip of her coffee, her eyes moving between the two of you. "The question is, were you two up early... or just never went to sleep?"

The tension in the kitchen shifted as James's fork clattered against his plate. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Aish intervened smoothly, though her expression suggested otherwise. "Just that it's nice to see people getting along, isn't it?"

Marcus snorted into his orange juice. "Yeah, 'getting along' is one way to put it."

You busied yourself with cleaning up, very aware of Rafe's presence as he moved to help you despite Lilly's attempts to keep him by her side.

"These eggs are perfectly seasoned," Lee commented, oblivious to the tension or choosing to ignore it. "What's your secret?"

"Just something my mom taught me," Rafe replied quietly, his eyes meeting yours across the kitchen. The shared memory of your early morning conversation hung between you, invisible but palpable to everyone in the room.

"Your mom?" Lilly's voice rose an octave. "You never talk about her!"

The muscle in Rafe's jaw ticked as he turned away, focusing intently on wiping down the counter. You instinctively moved closer, your presence offering silent support that didn't go unnoticed by the others.

"Well," Finn broke the awkward silence, raising his coffee mug. "Here's to unexpected culinary talents and..." he paused meaningfully, "new connections."

The kitchen buzzed with unspoken tensions and growing suspicions as the islanders enjoyed their breakfast, each of them watching the subtle dance between you and Rafe with varying degrees of interest and concern.

The makeshift gym area buzzed with energy as the islanders gathered for their morning workouts. The sun catching the sweat is already beginning to glisten on toned bodies. Marcus had claimed the weight bench, showing off as he spotted for Lee who struggled with his final rep.

"Come on, man! Push through it!" Marcus encouraged his muscles on full display in a tight tank top. "You got this!"

Rafe occupied the pull-up bar, his movements controlled and precise as he executed perfect reps. His white tank clung to his chest with sweat, gold rings glinting as he gripped the bar. His eyes kept drifting to where you struggled with adjusting the resistance bands, clearly frustrated with the equipment.

"Here," Blake offered, moving to help you. "These things are tricky. You have to..." She demonstrated the proper technique, her athletic background evident in her form.

James paced near the dumbbells, his tattooed arms flexing as he curled weights that were clearly too heavy for proper form. His jaw clenched each time Rafe's gaze wandered toward you.

"Babe, can you help me?" Lilly whined from the yoga mat, her pink workout set more suitable for Instagram than actual exercise. "I can't get this pose right."

"Kind of busy," Rafe grunted, dropping from the bar with fluid grace. He grabbed his water bottle, deliberately moving past your station. "Your form's off," he commented, his voice low. "You're going to hurt your shoulder like that."

Emma bounced between machines, her endless energy making everyone else look lazy in comparison. "This is so fun! It's like we have our own private gym!" She attempted a burpee, nearly colliding with Finn who was trying to get the perfect shot of everyone working out.

"Watch it!" Aish called out, stepping back from her kettlebell swings. "Some of us are actually trying to exercise here."

The air grew thick with tension and sweat as the morning workout continued.

"Fuck!" You swore as the resistance band snapped back, catching your arm. The sharp sound drew everyone's attention, especially Rafe who moved instinctively toward you before catching himself.

"Let me see," James stepped in quickly, his possessive concern obvious. "You need to be more careful, babe."

"I'm fine," You brushed him off, irritation clear in your voice. "I can handle myself."

"Clearly," Rafe muttered, just loud enough to be heard. His smirk earned him a glare from James and an eye roll from you.

The workout continued, the villa's gym equipment getting a thorough use as the islanders pushed through their routines. Rafe and you kept finding reasons to occupy the same space, your respective partners grew increasingly agitated with each interaction.

Rafe had moved to the cable machine, deliberately positioning himself with a clear view of your struggle with the resistance bands. "You're still doing it wrong," he called out, his voice carrying that familiar mix of arrogance and amusement.

"Then why don't you show me?" You snapped back, frustration was evident in your voice as you untangled yourself from the equipment.

"Babe," James interrupted, stepping between them with dumbbells still in hand. "I can help you. You don't need-"

"Jesus!" Marcus's strained voice cut through the tension. The barbell wavered dangerously above his chest as Lee scrambled to help him. "Little help here?"

Rafe moved first, his quick reflexes getting him to the bench before anyone else. Together with Lee, they helped Marcus rack the weight safely.

"Fuck," Marcus gasped, sitting up with a sheepish grin. "Maybe I should stick to cooking."

"Maybe you should stick to your own workout," James muttered, still hovering near you who had returned to fighting with the resistance bands.

Lilly's voice carried across the gym, high-pitched and demanding. "Rafe! Come show me how to use these weights properly!"

"In a minute," Rafe replied absently, his attention still fixed on your increasingly frustrated attempts with the equipment. Without warning, he moved behind you, his hands covering yours on the bands. "Like this," he demonstrated, guiding you through the proper motion.

The air in the gym grew thick with tension as James watched Rafe's hands on your waist, adjusting your stance.

"I said I can handle it," You insisted, but you didn't pull away from Rafe's guidance.

"Clearly," Rafe's breath ghosted across your neck as he corrected your form again. "Just like you handled that band snapping earlier?"

"Rafe!" Lilly's voice had taken on a whining edge. "I need help too!"

"Better go," you murmured, finally stepping away from his touch. "Your girlfriend's calling."

The muscle in Rafe's jaw ticked as he watched you move to the other side of the gym, deliberately putting space between you. He turned back to the cable machine, his movements more aggressive than necessary.

"Show-off," Blake commented under her breath, but loud enough for the cameras to catch. She exchanged knowing looks with Aish as they continued their workouts.

The villa's backyard had been transformed into a spicy challenge arena. A long table was set up with ten chairs, each place setting containing a row of increasingly intimidating hot wings and a glass of milk. The cameras captured the nervous energy as the islanders took their assigned seats, Sarah Hyland standing at the head of the table with a stack of cards.

"Welcome to 'Spicy Confessions'!" Sarah announced, her enthusiasm infectious. "The rules are simple - answer the question truthfully, or eat a wing. Each round, the wings get spicier, and the questions get... spicier too!" She winked at the cameras.

Rafe lounged in his chair, affecting his usual air of casual indifference despite the way his fingers drummed against the table. He was seated directly across from you.

"First round!" Sarah held up a card. "These wings are seasoned with jalapeño - barely a warm-up. The question is... What's the most public place you've ever hooked up?"

Emma giggled nervously, eyeing the first wing. "Do we go in order, or...?"

"Let's start with..." Sarah made a show of choosing, "Rafe! Set the tone for us."

Rafe leaned forward, that familiar smirk playing at his lips. "Easy. The Met Gala bathroom, last year." His eyes locked with yours across the table. "Sometimes the most exclusive venues provide the best... opportunities."

"Babe!" Lilly squealed, hitting his arm playfully. "You never told me that story!"

"Probably because you weren't there," Blake muttered under her breath, earning a sharp look from Lilly.

"Y/N," Sarah continued, "your turn! Answer or eat?"

James's hand found your thigh under the table, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed by the cameras - or by Rafe, whose jaw tightened slightly.

"Well," your voice carried across the table, a challenging glint in your eyes as you met Rafe's intense stare. "There was this corporate retreat in Aspen. The CEO had this private ski lodge with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the mountains..."

"Oh my god," Emma leaned forward eagerly, nearly knocking over her milk glass. "Please tell me you didn't!"

"Let's just say," You continued, your lips curving into a knowing smile, "the view wasn't the only thing that was breathtaking that weekend."

"Next question!" Sarah announced, flipping to a new card. The second row of wings glistened ominously with a deeper red sauce. "These babies are made with habanero peppers. And the question is... What's your biggest turn-on that you've never told your current partner?"

"Pass," Lee immediately reached for a wing, taking a brave bite before his eyes widened in panic. "Holy shit!" He grabbed for his milk, chugging it desperately as the others laughed.

"Rafe?" Sarah turned to him again, the cameras zooming in expectantly.

Rafe absently twisted his gold rings as he considered the question. "Power," he finally said, his voice low and deliberate. "I get off on having complete control."

Lilly shifted uncomfortably beside him. "But baby, I thought you said-"

"Moving on!" Sarah interrupted smoothly. "Blake?"

"Easy. Watching," Blake smirked, shooting a meaningful look between Rafe and you. "Especially when the people being watched don't know they're putting on a show."

The tension around the table thickened as more confessions spilled out. Marcus admitted to a thing for rope play, while Emma surprised everyone by confessing her love of public exhibition.

"Y/N," Sarah's voice cut through the charged atmosphere. "Your turn. What's that secret turn-on?"

"Control," you answered, your eyes meeting Rafe's directly. "But not having it - losing it. Completely." You paused deliberately. "To the right person."

"Next round!" Sarah's voice was almost too bright as she held up another card. The third row of wings glowed an alarming shade of orange. "These beauties are made with ghost peppers. And your question is... What's the most inappropriate thing you've ever fantasized about someone in this villa?"

"Fuck that," Marcus reached for a wing immediately but froze with it halfway to his mouth. "Actually... there was this one time in the shower when-"

"Just eat the damn wing," Aish interrupted, rolling her eyes. "Some of us would like to keep our breakfast down."

"Next question..." Sarah held up a new card, the late afternoon sun catching the sweat beading on everyone's foreheads from the previous rounds of spicy wings. "If someone other than your current partner is actually your ideal type in here - who is it and why? Or face the ghost pepper wings."

"I'll go first," Blake offered, breaking the awkward silence. "Marcus, sorry babe, but Lee's actually more my type. Those surfer vibes just do something for me." She shrugged apologetically at Marcus, who took the confession with good humor.

The question continued around the table, some islanders choosing to brave the wings rather than admit their true attractions. Emma confessed to having a crush on Finn, while Aish admitted she found Marcus's chef skills irresistibly attractive.

When it came to your turn you straightened in your chair, very aware of James's presence beside you. Your eyes met Rafe's across the table, holding his gaze as you spoke.

"Rafe," you stated simply, your voice steady despite the way James's entire body tensed beside you. "He's exactly my type - damaged, complicated, with just enough danger to make it interesting."

"Plus, I've always had a thing for guys who think they're unfixable."

The silence that followed your confession was deafening. Lilly's face had turned an alarming shade of red, while James's grip on his glass was so tight it looked in danger of shattering.

"Your turn, Rafe," Sarah prompted, the cameras catching every nuance of the charged moment. “Tell us who’s your type or what’s your biggest regret so far?”

His eyes never left your face as he spoke. "My biggest regret here was the safe choice instead of going after what I really wanted."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lilly's voice had risen to a near-shriek. "I'm right here!"

"It means," Rafe continued, still holding your gaze, "that sometimes playing it safe isn't worth the price of denying what you really need."

"Well!" Sarah's voice was overly bright as she tried to diffuse the situation. "That was... enlightening! Next question-"

"No," James stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the patio tiles. "I think we've heard enough 'enlightening' confessions for one day." His voice was tight with barely controlled anger as he stormed away from the table.

"James!" You called after him but made no move to follow. Your eyes returned to Rafe's, the heat between you palpable even across the table.

"Drama!" Emma stage-whispered to Finn, who was busy capturing every moment with his camera. "This is better than any reality show I've ever watched!"

Lilly tugged desperately at Rafe's arm. "Baby, you didn't mean that, right? Tell me you didn't mean that!"

But Rafe's attention remained fixed on you, his expression intense with something that went beyond mere attraction. It was clear that the real heat in the villa had nothing to do with ghost peppers.

That night, the flickering flames cast dancing shadows across the villa's fire pit area as the islanders gathered for what Sarah had cryptically called a "special surprise." The men sat blindfolded, their partners beside them on the curved benches.

"Islanders!" Sarah's voice carried across the space. "Tonight, we're shaking things up. Boys, keep those blindfolds on tight!"

The sound of heels clicking on stone drew everyone's attention to the villa entrance. Tessa emerged, dressed in green lace lingerie. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, catching the firelight as she moved with deliberate sensuality.

"Holy shit," Blake whispered, loud enough for the microphones to catch. "She's not playing around."

You shifted uncomfortably next to James, very aware of how Rafe sat directly across from you, his blindfolded face turned in your direction despite not being able to see. Lilly's grip on his arm had become almost desperate.

"Boys," Sarah continued, "you're about to meet our newest bombshell. Tessa, why don't you tell us what brought you here?"

Tessa's voice was honey-sweet with an underlying edge as she circled the fire pit, her fingers trailing across each blindfolded man's shoulders. "Well, Sarah, I've had my eye on one particular islander from the start." She paused behind Rafe, her hands sliding down his chest. "I always get what I want, and what I want is sitting right here."

Tessa leaned down to whisper something in Rafe's ear, her lips brushing against his skin. The muscle in his jaw ticked, but he remained still under her touch.

"And what exactly do you see in Rafe?" Sarah prompted, though the question seemed redundant given how Tessa's hands continued to explore his shoulders.

"Where do I start?" She moved to stand in front of him. "The bad boy exterior hiding daddy issues? The complicated relationship with authority? The addiction struggles?" She smiled predatorily. "I work in addiction counseling. I know exactly how to... handle cases like his."

Your hands clenched in your lap, your professional mask slipping slightly at Tessa's casual mention of Rafe's personal struggles. "You can remove your blindfolds now, boys," Sarah announced with barely contained glee.

The reaction was immediate. Lee whistled low under his breath while Marcus muttered a quiet "damn." But all eyes were on Rafe as he took in Tessa's appearance, his expression unreadable behind his usual mask of indifference.

"Like what you see?" Tessa asked, deliberately positioning herself between Rafe and your line of sight.

"Seen better," Rafe drawled, but his voice held an edge that the cameras quickly focused on. His eyes kept trying to find you around Tessa's deliberately positioned form.

Tessa made herself comfortable on the bench next to Rafe, forcing Lilly to scoot over. "Well," she smiled, "you'll be seeing a lot more of me. Sarah, should I tell them the best part?"

"Go ahead," Sarah encouraged, clearly enjoying the mounting tension.

"Tonight," Tessa announced, her hand finding its way to Rafe's thigh, "I get to steal one of you for a private date in the Hideaway. And I think we all know who I'm choosing."

"Rafe," Tessa's voice cut through the night air as she stood from the fire pit, extending her manicured hand toward him. "Let's have that chat, shall we?"

"This is bullshit!" Lilly exploded the moment they were out of earshot, her voice rising to a pitch that made several people wince. "She can't just come in here and-"

"And what?" Blake cut in, raising an eyebrow. "Do exactly what you did to Y/N when you picked Rafe at the first coupling?" The cameras caught you slightly flinching at the reminder.

Emma tried to diffuse the situation, her perpetual cheerfulness somewhat strained. "Come on, guys. It's just a chat. It's not like-"

"Not like what?" Lilly snapped, mascara already starting to run. "Not like she's practically naked? Not like she's obviously trying to steal my man?"

James shifted closer to you on the bench, his arm sliding around your waist in what appeared to be comfort but felt more like possession. "Maybe some people's men are worth stealing," he muttered, just loud enough for the microphones to catch.

Tessa led Rafe to the day beds, her body language deliberately seductive as she settled beside him. Even from a distance, the islanders could see how she kept touching him - a hand on his arm, fingers trailing across his chest, playing with his gold rings.

"I can't watch this," Lilly stood abruptly, wobbling slightly in her heels. "This is... this is just..."

"Karma?" Aish suggested sweetly, earning a death glare from Lilly.

You remained silent, your eyes fixed on the scene unfolding at the day beds.

"You're being awfully quiet," Blake observed, studying your face. "No professional insight into this situation, life coach?"

Before you could respond, a burst of laughter carried across from the day beds - Tessa's, high and deliberately performative. The sound made Lilly sink back onto the bench, tears now flowing freely.

"I mean," Marcus spoke up, trying to be diplomatic, "she is fit. And she seems... interested in helping with his issues."

"Oh please," Blake scoffed. "The only thing she's interested in 'helping' with is getting him out of those shorts."

Your fingers tightened around your glass at Blake's words, though your face remained carefully neutral. "Well," Finn mused, his photographer's eye taking in the whole scene, "this should make for some interesting footage. The addiction counselor and the recovering addict - it's like a bad romance novel."

"Or a tragedy waiting to happen," You muttered, speaking for the first time since Tessa had arrived.

The daybed creaked softly as Tessa shifted closer to Rafe, her perfume - something expensive and deliberately chosen - filling the space between them.

"So," her voice has an underlying edge, "tell me about your recovery. It must be so hard, being in here with all these... temptations." Her emphasis on the last word made it clear she wasn't talking about substances.

Rafe's jaw ticked, but his usual sharp retort died on his lips as Tessa's hand found its way to his thigh. Her touch was different from Lilly's desperate clutching - more assured, more knowing. "What makes you think you know anything about my recovery?"

"Please," Tessa laughed, the sound carrying deliberately across to the fire pit. "I've worked with enough addicts to recognize the signs. The way you fidget with those rings when you're anxious, how you rub your chest during moments of stress..." Her fingers trailed up his arm. "The constant need for control, yet the desperate desire to lose it with the right person."

Rafe's eyes flickered toward the fire pit, seeking your silhouette before Tessa deliberately blocked his view. "And you think you're the right person?" His voice held its usual sarcasm, but there was something else there too - a hint of genuine curiosity.

"I know how to handle men like you. The ones who push everyone away because they're scared of being seen. The ones who use anger and arrogance to hide their pain."

"The ones who need someone who understands their demons." Rafe's breath hitched slightly as Tessa's hand moved higher on his thigh. Her words were hitting closer to home than he'd like to admit, striking chords that you had first exposed during their late-night conversation.

"And what about Lilly?" He asked, though his tone suggested he didn't really care about the answer.

Tessa's laugh was dismissive. "Please. We both know she's not equipped to handle someone like you. She wants the bad boy image without the complicated reality behind it." Her fingers found the nape of his neck, playing with his hair. "I, on the other hand, specialize in complicated realities."

Her words were perfectly chosen, each touch deliberately placed to break down Rafe's defenses.

"I could help you," she murmured, her lips dangerously close to his. "Really help you, not just play at being your savior like some people." Her pointed glance toward the fire pit made it clear who she meant.

Rafe's hand found her waist almost unconsciously, drawn in by her promises of understanding and acceptance. Tessa had done her homework well, knowing exactly which buttons to push, and which wounds to probe. And despite himself, Rafe found his carefully constructed walls beginning to crack under her expert assault.

Time passed as Tessa made her way over as the tension around the fire pit crackled. The islanders watched as she positioned herself next to Sarah, her lingerie still managing to catch every eye despite the hours that had passed.

"Well," Sarah's voice carried across the space, heavy with anticipation. "Tessa, you've had the chance to chat with all our boys. Time to make your choice for that private date in the Hideaway."

Lilly had practically melded herself to Rafe's other side, her mascara-stained face a stark contrast to Tessa's perfectly maintained appearance. You sat rigidly beside James, your eyes fixed on some point in the distance as if trying to detach yourself from the situation.

"It's not really much of a choice, is it? From the moment I walked in, I knew exactly who I wanted."

"Rafe, obviously."

"Rafe," Sarah turned to him, "How do you feel about spending the night in the Hideaway with our new bombshell?"

His blue eyes flickered briefly toward you before settling back on Tessa. "Why not?" His trademark smirk slid into place, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Could be interesting."

"Interesting?" Lilly's voice rose several octaves. "That's all you have to say? After everything we've-"

"Babe," Tessa cut her off smoothly, "it's just a date. Though..." her hand trailed down Rafe's chest suggestively, "I can't promise we'll stick to just talking."

"Well then," Sarah clapped her hands together, clearly delighting in the drama. "Rafe, why don't you go get ready? Tessa will meet you in the Hideaway in thirty minutes."

As Rafe stood to leave, Tessa pulled him down for a deliberately passionate kiss, making sure everyone - especially you - had a clear view. His hands remained at his sides, not quite participating but not pulling away either.

"Don't keep me waiting too long," She released him, her voice carrying clearly across the fire pit.

The night air grew thick with tension as Rafe disappeared into the villa.

The islanders gathered for breakfast, the tension from the previous night still hanging heavy in the air. Lilly sat at the counter, her eyes red and puffy from crying, while the others tried to maintain some semblance of normalcy.

"This is all your fault," Lilly suddenly spat, her voice cracking as she pointed an accusatory finger at you. "If you hadn't been throwing yourself at him during that stupid spicy challenge-"

"Excuse me?" You set down your coffee cup with deliberate control, though your hands shook slightly. "I'm not the one who chose to go to the Hideaway with someone else."

Blake and Emma exchanged worried glances while Marcus continued flipping pancakes, trying to appear absorbed in his cooking.

"Oh, please!" Lilly's voice rose higher. "We all saw how you've been looking at him! Those late-night conversations, the workout flirting, the breakfast cooking together - you've been trying to steal him from day one!"

"That's rich," Blake interjected, coming to your defense. "Considering how you coupled up with him in the first place. Or did you forget snatching him away from Y/N on day one?"

James, who had been silently brooding beside you, suddenly spoke up. "Maybe if Rafe wasn't such a fucking player, none of this would be happening."

"Don't you dare," Lilly whirled on him. "This isn't about Rafe! It's about your girlfriend being a homewrecking-"

"Careful," Your voice cut through the kitchen like ice. "Think very carefully about what you're about to say."

Aish leaned against the counter, watching the drama unfold. "Oh honey, if anyone's doing any homewrecking, it's that blonde bombshell upstairs currently wrapped around your man."

"She's not wrapped around anyone," Finn corrected, unable to help himself. "Rafe came back down after an hour. Apparently, they just talked."

"Then why isn't he down here?" Lilly demanded. "Why is he avoiding me?"

"Maybe because you're acting crazy?" Lee suggested, immediately regretting his words as Lilly turned her fury on him.

"I'm acting crazy? My boyfriend just spent the night with another woman, and everyone's acting like I'm the problem!" Tears started flowing again. "And it's all because she," she jabbed a finger at you again, "had to go and admit he was her type!"

"At least she was honest," Blake shot back. "Unlike some people who pretend they're okay with their partner clearly wanting someone else."

James stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh come on," Emma finally joined in, her usual cheerfulness replaced with exasperation. "We all see how Rafe looks at Y/N. And how she looks at him. And how you and Lilly are both trying to pretend it's not happening."

The kitchen erupted into chaos as everyone started talking at once. The cameras panned frantically between faces as accusations flew and alliances formed. Marcus abandoned his pancakes to hold back Lee, who looked ready to physically intervene as James stepped threateningly toward Finn.

"Enough!" Your voice cut through the noise. You stood slowly, your composure cracking slightly. "I'm done being everyone's scapegoat. Rafe made his choice last night - multiple choices, actually. None of them involved me or you," you looked pointedly at Lilly. "So maybe instead of blaming everyone else, you should ask yourself why he's so eager to explore other options."

The silence that followed your outburst was deafening. Your hands trembled slightly as you walked out of the kitchen, leaving behind a group of stunned islanders and a breakfast that had gone cold in the wake of their confrontation.

The sound of footsteps on the villa's stairs drew everyone's attention as Rafe appeared in the kitchen doorway, his hair still messy from sleep. He wore sweatpants and no shirt, his gold rings catching the morning light. Tessa followed close behind, wearing one of his t-shirts like a trophy.

"What the fuck is going on down here?" Rafe's voice cut through the tense atmosphere as he took in the scene - Lilly's tear-stained face, James's aggressive stance, and the obvious divide among the islanders. "I could hear the shouting from upstairs."

"Oh, just your girlfriend having a complete meltdown," Blake supplied helpfully, earning a death glare from Lilly. "Apparently, it's Y/N’s fault you chose to spend the night with Barbie over there."

Tessa's perfectly manicured hand found its way to Rafe's bare chest, a gesture that didn't go unnoticed. "Where is Y/N, anyway?"

"She left," Emma explained, fidgeting nervously with her coffee cup. "After Lilly accused her of trying to steal Rafe and-"

"She what?" Rafe's voice dropped dangerously low, the muscle in his jaw ticking. His eyes fixed on Lilly with an intensity that made her shrink back slightly.

"Baby, I can explain," Lilly started, her voice wavering. "It's just... the way you two are always looking at each other, and then that confession during the challenge-"

"So you decided to attack her?" Rafe stepped forward, shrugging off Tessa's touch. "Make her responsible for your insecurities?"

Tessa’s confident smile faltered slightly. This clearly wasn't how she'd planned the morning going."I'm not insecure!" Lilly protested, fresh tears spilling. "I'm trying to protect what's mine!"

"Yours?" Rafe's laugh was harsh. "When exactly did I become your property, Lilly? When you picked me first? When you decided to ignore every sign that this wasn't working?"

James pushed off from the counter where he'd been brooding. "Rich coming from you. Playing with both of them while you've got a new toy upstairs."

"Careful," Rafe's warning was soft but deadly serious. "You might want to think about why your girlfriend's name keeps coming up in conversations about me."

Marcus and Lee moved closer, ready to intervene if necessary. "Nothing happened upstairs," He continued, his voice carrying clearly. "We talked. That's it. Because, unlike some people, I actually give a fuck about not hurting people unnecessarily."

"Could've fooled me," Lilly sniffled. "You didn't seem to care about hurting me when you were confessing your regrets during the challenge."

"Maybe because they were true?" Rafe's words fell like bombs in the quiet kitchen. "Maybe because I'm tired of pretending this is something it's not?"

Tessa stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. "Rafe, baby, let's go back upstairs and-"

"Don't," he cut her off sharply. "This isn't about you. This isn't even about Lilly anymore." His eyes scanned the kitchen. "Where did Y/N go?"

"The beach," Finn supplied, ignoring the warning looks from several islanders. "She headed down to the water."

Without another word, Rafe turned and strode toward the villa's exit, leaving behind a stunned kitchen full of islanders.

"Well," Blake broke the silence, reaching for the coffee pot. "I guess we know whose side he's on."

The sound of waves crashing against the shore provided cover as Rafe reached behind his back, yanking off his microphone pack and tossing it onto the sand. His eyes fixed on you near the water's edge, your hair whipping in the ocean breeze.

You stood with your arms wrapped around you as you stared out at the horizon. You didn't turn when you heard his footsteps in the sand, but your body tensed slightly, recognizing his presence.

"If you've come to defend your girlfriend's tantrum, save it," Your voice carried over the sound of the waves, deliberately steady despite the emotion underneath. "I'm not interested in being everyone's villain."

Rafe moved closer, positioning himself beside you but not touching.

"She's not my girlfriend," he stated simply, his voice rough. "Not anymore. Maybe she never really was."

The wind whipped around you, carrying the salt spray and the weight of unspoken words. You finally turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his blue ones with an intensity that the cameras, even from their distance, couldn't miss.

"What are you doing, Rafe?" Your question held layers of meaning - about Lilly, about Tessa, about the growing tension between you that neither could deny.

"Something I should have done from the start," he moved closer, his body angling toward yours like a compass finding north. "Stop playing it safe. Stop pretending I don't feel what I feel."

The ocean crashed behind you, providing a dramatic backdrop as Rafe reached out, his hand hovering near your face but not quite touching. The sun caught his gold rings, creating patterns of light that danced across your skin.

"And what exactly do you feel?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, your body moved slightly toward his, drawn by the same magnetic pull that had been there since day one.

"You know exactly what I feel," Rafe's voice dropped lower, more intense. "You've known since that first night. Since every fucking moment after." His hand finally made contact, fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that contradicted his usual sharp edges.

The beach stretched empty around you, the distant villa forgotten as the space between you charged with electricity.

"This is a mistake," You breathed, but you didn't pull away from his touch. "The villa, the cameras, James, Lilly, Tessa-"

"Fuck the villa," Rafe cut you off, his other hand coming up to frame your face. "Fuck the cameras. Fuck all of it." His thumbs traced your cheekbones as he held your gaze. "The only mistake was denying this for so long."

The waves provide a rhythmic soundtrack to your moment of truth. But was soon interrupted by a text about a new challenge.

The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink as the islanders gathered in a circle on the beach. The tension from the morning's drama still lingered in the air as they settled onto the sand, carefully maintaining space between certain couples.

"Alright, islanders!" Sarah's voice carried across the beach. "Time for Beach or Deep! The rules are simple - when the bottle lands on you, you choose Beach for light and flirty, or Deep for the real tea!"

The glass bottle glinted in the sunset as it spun, eventually slowing to point at Blake. The cameras zoomed in on her confident smirk as she considered her options.

"Deep," she declared without hesitation. "Let's start this right."

Sarah pulled out a card. "Who in the villa do you think is playing the biggest game?"

Blake's eyes swept the circle deliberately before landing on Tessa. "Our newest bombshell, obviously. Coming in here pretending to be some sort of addiction counselor savior when we all know she's just trying to create drama for the cameras."

Tessa's perfectly maintained smile tightened slightly. "Interesting theory from someone who's been trying to get with Lee behind Marcus's back."

The bottle spun again before the argument could escalate, landing on Emma. "Beach!" she chirped quickly, trying to diffuse the tension.

"Give your best cheesy pickup line to the islander of your choice," Sarah read.

Emma turned to Finn with an exaggerated wink. "Are you a camera? Because every time I look at you, I smile!"

The groan that went around the circle was interrupted by the bottle's next spin, landing on Rafe. "Deep," his voice carried that familiar edge of danger. The other islanders shifted nervously, aware of the morning's unresolved drama.

Sarah's smile was almost predatory as she read the card. "Have you caught feelings for someone else's partner?"

The beach seemed to hold its breath as Rafe's blue eyes locked with you.

"Yes," he stated simply, his voice carrying clearly across the circle. The bottle spun again, this time landing on you. The sunset cast dramatic shadows across your face as you considered your options, very aware of Rafe's intense gaze.

"Deep," you finally decided, your voice steady despite the charged atmosphere.

"Reveal your biggest villa secret," Sarah read, barely containing her excitement.

Your eyes met Rafe's across the circle as you spoke. "The night after the heart rate challenge, I couldn't sleep. I went outside and found someone else there too. We talked until sunrise about things we've never told anyone else." You paused deliberately. "And every night since I've gone back hoping to find them there again."

The game continued as the sun sank lower, the bottle spun again, catching the last rays of sunlight as it landed on Rafe. The tension around the circle thickened as he leaned forward, his gold rings glinting in the dying light.

"Beach," he drawled, though his blue eyes held something deeper as they fixed on you across the circle.

Sarah's smile was wicked as she read the card. "Kiss the islander you find most attractive. And make it count - we want to see some real passion!"

"Finally," Blake muttered under her breath, loud enough for the microphones to catch. "About damn time."

Rafe crossed the circle with deliberate steps, his intention clear in every movement. James started to shift protectively closer to you, but your hand on his arm stopped him. The sunset painted everything in shades of gold and red as Rafe reached down, pulling you to your feet.

"Been wanting to do this since day one," he murmured, just loud enough for the nearby microphones to pick up. His hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing your cheekbone with unexpected gentleness.

The beach seemed to hold its breath as Rafe leaned in, his other hand sliding into your hair. The kiss started soft, almost tentative - a stark contrast to his usual aggressive demeanor. But as your hands found their way to his chest, something shifted.

The kiss deepened, becoming something raw and desperate. Rafe's fingers tightened in your hair as you pressed closer, both of you forgetting about your audience, about your partners, about everything except this moment you’d been denying yourself.

"Jesus Christ," Emma whispered, fanning herself. "Is it getting hot out here?"

When you finally broke apart, both breathing heavily, the sunset had painted the sky in deeper shades of purple and red. Rafe's forehead rested against yours for a moment, his hands still tangled in your hair.

"Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough with emotion. The microphones barely caught his next words, meant only for you. "This changes everything."

"Well," Sarah's voice carried across the beach, heavy with satisfaction. "I think that answers quite a few questions, doesn't it?"

The night was settling in around you as Rafe and you returned to your spots in the circle, though something fundamental had shifted in the villa's dynamic. The game continued, but no one could focus on the questions anymore - not after witnessing what had clearly been more than just a dare.

Rafe's eyes kept finding yours across the circle and you touched your lips unconsciously throughout the rest of the game.

The villa's glam room buzzed with nervous energy as the girls prepared for the recoupling ceremony. The air was thick with hairspray and perfume as they flitted between mirrors and makeup stations, their conversations a mix of excitement and anxiety.

You stood at your designated area, rifling through your suitcase with uncharacteristic excitement. Your fingers brushed against the silky material of your chosen dress - a deep burgundy number that hugged you. The kiss on the beach still lingered on your lips, making you smile softly at your reflection.

"Someone's in a good mood," Blake observed, applying another coat of mascara. "That kiss must have been even better than it looked."

Tessa's perfectly manicured hand paused midway through applying lipstick. "Don't get too excited, honey. The night's not over yet." Her voice carried a sharp edge beneath its sweetness.

"Oh please," Emma chimed in, wrestling with her curling iron. "After that beach display, we all know where this is heading. Even Lilly must see it by now."

As if summoned by her name, Lilly emerged from the bathroom, her eyes still red and puffy despite layers of concealer. "You're all acting like it's some great love story," she sniffled. "When really, it's just Y/N stealing someone else's man. Again."

Your hands stilled on your dress. "I haven't stolen anything," you replied calmly, though your grip on the silk tightened. "And maybe if you spent less time playing victim and more time actually seeing what's in front of you-"

"What's in front of me?" Lilly's voice rose sharply. "You mean how you've been throwing yourself at him since day one? How you manipulate him with all those late-night talks about his addiction?"

"That's enough," Blake stepped between you two, her dress half-zipped. "We all saw what happened on that beach. That wasn't manipulation - that was something real."

Aish nodded from her position at the vanity. "Girl, that kiss had more chemistry than my entire science degree. And trust me, I would know."

You turned back to your suitcase, pulling out your heels as the other girls continued their debate. Your hands trembled slightly as you laid out your outfit - the dress, the shoes, the delicate gold jewelry that would complement Rafe's rings.

"You know," Tessa spoke up again, her voice carrying clearly across the room, "it's interesting how quickly some people forget their partners when something shiny and new catches their eye. James has been nothing but loyal to you, Y/N. But I guess that doesn't matter when there's a bad boy to fix, right?"

The room fell silent as you slowly straightened, meeting Tessa's gaze in the mirror. "You want to talk about loyalty? How about coming into the villa specifically targeting someone else's partner? At least I didn't have to strip down to my lingerie to get Rafe's attention."

"One of us is definitely going home tonight," Emma voiced what they were all thinking, nervously adjusting her dress straps in the mirror. "With Tessa here now, someone's getting dumped."

You smoothed down your dress, watching the other girls' reactions in the mirror. "It won't be Y/N," Blake stated matter-of-factly, applying another coat of lipstick. "Not after that kiss. Rafe's made his choice pretty clear."

Tessa's laugh was sharp as she adjusted her deliberately revealing white dress. "Has he though? Men say a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Trust me, I know exactly what kind of conversation we had in the Hideaway last night."

"Oh please," Aish rolled her eyes, fastening her earrings. "You mean the conversation that lasted all of an hour before he came back downstairs? That really sounds like true love."

"This isn't fair! I've been with him since day one. We were happy before she," Lilly jabbed a finger at you, "started playing her mind games!"

"Happy?" Blake scoffed, turning from her mirror. "Girl, he's been looking at Y/N like she hung the moon since the moment she walked in. The only person who couldn't see it was you."

Emma tried to diffuse the situation, ever the peacemaker. "Maybe we should focus on looking our best? I mean, it's not just about Rafe. Any of the guys could switch things up tonight."

"Right," Tessa's smile was predatory as she adjusted her cleavage. "James seemed pretty interested in our chat earlier. Maybe he's ready for someone who won't abandon him for the first broken bad boy that comes along."

Your hands stilled on your jewelry. "Careful, Tessa. Your desperation is showing." Your voice was calm but carried an edge that made the other girls shift nervously.

"At least I'm honest about what I want," Tessa shot back. "I don't pretend to be some noble life coach while stealing other people's partners."

"The only thing you're honest about is your push-up bra," Blake muttered, earning a few nervous giggles.

Your confidence seemed to grow with each passing moment, while Lilly's anxiety manifested in increasingly frantic makeup touch-ups.

"Ten minutes, ladies!" A producer's voice called through the door.

"Well," Aish stood, smoothing down her dress. "I guess we're about to find out who's going home and who's staying to fight another day."

"May the best woman win," Tessa's voice carried across the room as they prepared to leave, though her eyes fixed challengingly on you.

"Oh honey," Blake linked arms with you as you headed for the door. "I think she already has."

The fire pit crackled with tension as the islanders gathered for the recoupling ceremony. The girls stood in a line, their evening wear glinting in the firelight while the boys sat on the curved benches, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. Sarah stood at the head of the fire pit, her expression promising drama.

"Islanders," Sarah's voice carried across the night air. "Tonight's recoupling will determine who stays in the villa and who goes home. Boys, you have the power. When I call your name, please stand and tell us who you want to couple up with, and why."

"Rafe," She called first, a knowing smile playing at her lips. "You're up."

The fire cast dramatic shadows across Rafe's face as he stood, his blue eyes intense in the flickering light. His gold rings caught the flames as he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of barely contained emotion rather than his usual arrogance.

"The girl I want to couple up with," he began, his voice carrying clearly across the pit, "is someone I should have chosen from the start. Someone who sees past all my bullshit, who isn't afraid to call me out when I'm being an ass." His eyes found you across the flames. "Someone who makes me want to be better, even though that fucking terrifies me."

"She's the first person I've ever met who makes me want to face my demons instead of running from them. Who doesn't try to fix me, but makes me want to fix myself." He paused, his intensity making the moment electric. "The girl I want to couple up with is Y/N."

The fire pit crackled in the silence that followed as you stepped forward, your eyes never leaving Rafe's. The burgundy dress caught the light as you moved, creating the illusion of flames dancing across your skin.

"Took you long enough," You murmured as you reached him, just loud enough for the nearby microphones to catch.

Rafe's hand found your waist as you settled beside him, his touch possessive yet gentle. The cameras didn't miss how perfectly you fit together, or how his thumb traced small circles on your hip - a gesture that seemed unconscious yet intimate.

"James," Sarah's voice cut through the moment. "You're next."

The tension ratcheted up another notch as James stood, his expression barely contained with fury. His eyes lingered on you for a moment before sliding to where Tessa stood, her white dress practically glowing in the firelight.

"Well," his voice carried an edge that made several islanders shift uncomfortably. "Seems like loyalty doesn't mean much here anymore." His gaze lingered pointedly on you, who remained steady under Rafe's protective arm.

"The girl I want to couple up with," James continued, his tone shifting to something calculated, "is someone who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it. Someone who understands the value of... professional expertise." His eyes fixed on Tessa, whose white dress seemed to glow against the night sky.

"I choose Tessa," he declared, watching your reaction from the corner of his eye. "At least she's honest about her intentions."

"Thanks, baby," she said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "I promise you won't regret it."

The recoupling continued as Marcus chose Blake, Lee picked Emma, and Finn selected Aish, leaving Lilly standing alone in her pink dress, mascara-stained tears tracking down her cheeks.

"Lilly," Sarah's voice held false sympathy. "I'm sorry, but as you weren't chosen, your time in the villa has come to an end. You have thirty minutes to pack your bags and say your goodbyes."

Your slight flinch of guilt was quickly soothed by Rafe's tightening grip on your waist, Tessa's had a triumphant smirk as she pressed closer to James, and the varying expressions of shock and satisfaction among the other islanders.

"This isn't fair," Lilly's voice cracked as she looked pleadingly at Rafe. "We were happy. We were good together until she-"

"Don't," Rafe cut her off, his voice firm but not unkind. "We both know that's not true. We were never really together, Lilly. Not in the way that mattered."

The night air grew thick with tension as Lilly's sobs echoed across the fire pit. The other islanders began to move, some following Lilly to help her pack, others lingering to watch the aftermath of the dramatic recoupling.

"Well," Blake muttered to Emma as they headed inside. "I guess we know who the real player in the villa is now." Her meaningful glance toward Tessa and James.

You turned in Rafe's arms, your eyes meeting his blue ones in the firelight. "You okay?" You asked softly, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

"Better than okay," he murmured, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "For the first time since coming here, everything feels... right."

233 notes · View notes

knoepfl · 1 month ago

Text

Shadows on Stage

Characters:

• Legoshi: A tall, reserved gray wolf who works as the lighting technician in the Drama Club. Protective and observant, he notices when (Y/N) is upset.

• (Y/N): A small, passionate feral fox who loves acting. Disappointed by receiving a minor role in the play, she struggles with self-doubt but tries to hide it.

Trigger Warnings:

• Disappointment

• Self-Doubt

Masterlist

Words: 1188

--- The theater room was buzzing with anticipation as members of the Drama Club rehearsed for the upcoming play. The air smelled of old costumes and the faint scent of candles used for the stage lighting. The heavy curtains swayed slightly in the breeze, and the spotlight cast long shadows on the stage. Legoshi, as usual, was by the lighting board, adjusting the lights and making sure the timing was perfect. His towering frame was hard to miss, his usual quiet energy evident in his focus.

Beside him, you—his small but spirited feral fox girlfriend—was on the stage, waiting for the casting list to be announced. You had joined the club to pursue acting, something you had a natural flair for, and today you were nervous, excited, and full of hope. You had always been smaller than most of the other animals in the club, but you didn’t let it stop you from chasing your dreams of being on stage.

The director called everyone’s attention, standing in front of the group with a clipboard in hand. “Alright, everyone, the roles for our play have been decided,” he said, his voice authoritative but not unkind.

Legoshi’s eyes flickered briefly toward you, noticing the way you stood a little straighter, hoping to hear your name called for a meaningful role. He couldn’t help but feel proud of how much effort you had put into your acting, how you had always been so passionate about it.

“Now, let’s see who gets what,” the director continued, and he began reading off the list of names, assigning roles.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened closely, hoping to hear your name tied to a larger, more significant character. But when the director finally got to your name, you felt a cold rush of disappointment.

“(Y/N), you’ll be playing the role of the servant. Your character is smaller, so you’ll fit in the background better. You’ll be a subtle presence, helping to set the tone for the story as it unfolds.”

You froze, your tail flicking behind you in quiet agitation. A servant? A background role? You had worked so hard, practicing your lines and perfecting your delivery, only to end up with something you felt was beneath you. You kept your face neutral, but your heart sank. You were so much more than this.

The rehearsal continued, and you moved through the motions mechanically, the joy you had felt before vanishing into thin air. You tried not to show how upset you were, but deep down, it was hard to ignore the sting of disappointment. As you rehearsed your part, you could barely focus, your thoughts swirling with frustration.

Legoshi, busy with adjusting the lighting, noticed you right away. Even though he was focused on his job, his eyes couldn’t help but be drawn to you. He saw the way your movements were slower than usual, the way your tail drooped slightly, the way your posture was more defeated than he’d ever seen it.

He knew you. He knew when something was wrong.

After a few more moments, he could no longer concentrate on the lights. He needed to check on you. His large frame made his movements slow, but he didn’t hesitate. He walked over to you as you stood by yourself, still practicing your lines, your eyes focused on the floor. The others were chatting excitedly, but you remained silent, lost in your thoughts.

“(Y/N),” Legoshi’s deep voice broke the quiet. He was standing right in front of you now, looking down at you with gentle concern. He had always been able to read your emotions, even when you tried to hide them.

You looked up at him, giving him a forced smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m fine,” you said, trying to brush off the feeling that had taken root deep in your chest. But Legoshi could tell.

“No, you’re not.” His voice was soft but insistent. “I can tell something’s wrong. You’re acting different. Are you upset about the role?”

You hesitated, not wanting to admit it, but then you nodded. “I don’t understand. I worked so hard for this, and I thought I could do more than just be in the background. I thought maybe I could finally show them what I can do, but… instead, I’m just a servant, out of the spotlight.”

Legoshi’s heart twisted at the way your tail drooped and your shoulders slumped. He could tell you were hurt, even if you tried to mask it. It stung him to see you like this, especially since he knew how much acting meant to you.

He didn’t want to say the wrong thing, but he couldn’t stand seeing you so defeated. Without thinking, he moved closer, his body towering over yours, and then, gently, he knelt down so that you were at eye level. It wasn’t easy for him to kneel down—his height made it awkward—but he did it because he wanted to be closer to you, to offer you comfort in a way that felt right.

His deep brown eyes looked into yours, soft and understanding. “(Y/N), you’re not just a servant. You’re so much more than that. I know you’ve got so much talent, and I believe in you. You’re the most amazing actress I’ve ever seen. You’ll shine, even if it’s in the background. I promise you.”

You swallowed, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill. The warmth in Legoshi’s gaze and his words touched something deep inside you, something you had been trying to ignore. He saw you, even when the world didn’t.

“You really think so?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“I know so.” He smiled softly, his ears flicking slightly in his own form of reassurance. “You’re not invisible to me. And you’ll never be invisible to me, no matter what role they give you. And if anyone says you’re not good enough, I’ll be right here, reminding you of who you are.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude. His words were more than just reassurance; they were a lifeline, something you needed more than you realized. The weight in your chest started to lift, and a small, genuine smile appeared on your lips.

“Thanks, Legoshi,” you said, your voice steadying as you met his gaze. “I needed to hear that.”

Legoshi, still kneeling before you, gently reached out and took your hand in his. His large, warm hand engulfed yours, offering comfort without saying a word. For a moment, everything felt calm, and the weight of disappointment no longer felt so heavy.

“You’re going to be amazing, (Y/N),” he said, standing up slowly, his hands still holding yours. “And no matter what, I’ll always be here for you. You’re not just a servant. You’re the star of your own story, and I’m going to watch you shine.”

And with that, you knew, no matter what role you were given, you would always have someone by your side who believed in you, who saw you for everything you were capable of, and that made all the difference.

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#fanfic #oc #fluff #fanfiction #beastars #legoshi #beastars legoshi #Beastars x reader #Beastars x you #Beastars x yn #Legoshi x reader #Legoshi x you #Theater club #Wolf x fox

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f14fun · 3 months ago

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lay all your love on me - op81 (C4)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (9.4K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────────── 04: Dinner Table Tango (Put Me On TV Netflix)

Our usual dinners were low-key affairs—think microwaved leftovers, a quick pasta dish, or maybe some takeout eaten in front of the TV while my mom narrated the latest drama from whichever reality show was her current obsession. Tonight, though, was a whole different beast. It was like we’d accidentally wandered into a chaotic crossover episode of MasterChef meets a reality TV reunion: there were kabobs piled high on platters, enough side dishes to feed an entire neighborhood, and a whirlwind of personalities that made it feel like every seat at the table came with its own subplot.

Oscar’s dad, Chris, had turned the backyard grill into his personal stage, flipping kabobs with the flair of a man who was auditioning for his own cooking show. Each turn of the skewer came with commentary, like, “See that sear? That’s what you call perfection,” and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he was preparing a meal for a panel of judges instead of a casual dinner. Nicole, Oscar’s mom, hovered nearby, nodding along as if she hadn’t heard his grilling philosophy a thousand times before, while my mom, Belle, politely sipped her wine, pretending to be fascinated by every culinary revelation.

At the table, Hattie, Edie, and Mae were buzzing with their usual sibling energy—Hattie and Mae were whispering about something that kept making them burst into giggles, while Edie was eyeing the dessert like it was the final boss in a video game she was determined to conquer. Every few seconds, they’d shoot each other knowing looks, their inside jokes and side comments flying faster than I could keep up.

I picked up a plate and tried to navigate my way through the lively chaos, eyeing a seat at the far end of the table where I could blend into the background. But as soon as I moved, Oscar was there—close enough that I could practically feel the heat radiating off his skin from the sun and the pool. I placed my plate down, aiming for a spot near the drinks, but no sooner had I set my food down than Oscar plopped down next to me, grinning like this was all part of some game only he knew the rules to.

I moved again, feigning a casual stroll to the other end, but Oscar followed, a smug smile playing on his lips as he sat down beside me once more. I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it, each move feeling like a dance where I kept trying to sidestep and he kept closing in.

I finally turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Are you planning to follow me all night, or are you just allergic to sitting anywhere else?”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, that infuriatingly confident grin never wavering. “What can I say? You’re the best seat in the house,” he said, shrugging like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Besides, I promised you great dinner company, didn’t I?”

“You’re like a lost puppy,” I muttered, shaking my head but unable to keep the smile off my face. “Except more annoying.”

He just laughed, nudging my arm playfully. “I prefer ‘persistent’—sounds cuter. But if being annoying gets me the best view, then I’ll take it.”

Nicole glanced over from across the table, her mom radar obviously picking up on the exchange. “Oscar, sweetie, why don’t you give her a little space?” she teased, though the gleam in her eyes suggested she was enjoying this far too much.

Oscar shrugged, unbothered. “Why would I? I’m right where I want to be.”

Belle, my mom, was clearly entertained, watching us like she’d just tuned into her favorite show. “You know, if he keeps this up, you might need to get him his own seat belt,” she joked, topping off her wine as she watched Oscar stick to my side like glue.

I rolled my eyes, trying to act nonchalant, but the warmth of his presence was impossible to ignore. “Don’t encourage him,” I mumbled, but even as I said it, I couldn’t help but feel a strange thrill. Oscar’s persistence was absurdly charming, and no matter how much I tried to brush it off, his attention felt like its own kind of spotlight, casting everything in a new, exciting light.

The table was loud with laughter and overlapping conversations, skewers being passed around and plates filling up with everything from grilled corn to tangy salads. I tried to focus on my food, savoring the perfectly marinated kabobs and buttery potatoes, but Oscar’s constant presence kept pulling me back in, his playful nudges and whispered comments making it impossible to forget he was right there, next to me, watching every reaction.

“You really do have a knack for this,” I said, nudging him back just as he reached for another skewer.

Oscar flashed me a quick, sideways smile, his eyes twinkling. “For what, dinner? Or following you around like it’s my job?”

“Both,” I shot back, but the lightness in my voice betrayed how much I was enjoying the banter.

Oscar chuckled, spearing a piece of grilled zucchini with his fork. “Well, I’m nothing if not dedicated,” he said, popping it into his mouth with an exaggerated flourish. “And hey, if I’m going to be annoyingly persistent, I might as well be charming about it, right?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no malice behind it, only a growing sense of ease that came from how effortlessly he slipped into conversation with me. “Is that what this is? Charm? I thought it was just a fancy word for stalking.”

He laughed, a low, easy sound that sent a shiver down my spine despite the warm evening air. “Stalking’s such a strong word. I prefer ‘being attentive.’ You know, keeping an eye on the competition.” He leaned closer, his shoulder brushing mine as he whispered, “Plus, it’s kind of fun to see you all flustered.”

I felt my cheeks warm instantly, and I shoved a forkful of salad into my mouth to cover up my embarrassment. “You’re the worst,” I mumbled around the bite, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Am I, though?” he teased, nudging my leg under the table with his foot. “Because it kind of seems like you like it.”

I swallowed, trying to ignore the way my heart was racing. “You wish,” I shot back, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew he could see right through me.

Nicole, who had been listening to our back-and-forth with thinly veiled amusement, finally chimed in. “Oscar, honey, you might want to ease up before she throws you in the pool,” she said, winking at me. “But if she does, don’t worry—I’m sure you can swim.”

Oscar didn’t miss a beat, turning to his mom with a cheeky grin. “Oh, I’m not worried. I think she’d just jump in after me.”

I tried to keep my composure, but it was impossible not to laugh at his relentless confidence. “Keep dreaming, hotshot,” I said, giving him a playful shove, but even as I said it, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of exasperation and excitement at his attention.

Belle leaned over, her eyes twinkling as she passed me the breadbasket. “You’re handling him well,” she whispered with a smirk. “Most girls would’ve dunked him by now.”

I shot her a look of mock horror. “Trust me, it’s tempting. But I think he likes the attention too much.”

Oscar, who apparently had supersonic hearing when it came to anything involving himself, leaned in again, this time closer than before, his voice low and teasing. “Oh, I definitely do. But between you and me, I think you like it too.” He raised his glass in a mock toast, his eyes never leaving mine. “To good company and making the most of dinner.”

I clinked my glass with his, trying to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in my stomach at the way he was looking at me—like I was the only person at the table worth paying attention to. “To you not annoying me for five minutes,” I countered, but my smile gave away how much I was actually enjoying every second of it.

Oscar’s grin only widened, his eyes never leaving mine as he took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the moment. There was a playful glint in his gaze, but something deeper too, something that made my chest tighten. It was as if this whole day—every flirtatious comment, every lingering look—had been building up to something unspoken, something that hovered just beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged.

“So, what happens after five minutes?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of curiosity that made my breath hitch. “Do I get to keep my seat, or are you kicking me to the curb?”

I laughed softly, but the question hung in the air, feeling heavier than it should. “Depends,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. “Are you planning on behaving?”

“Not if I can help it,” Oscar replied, his voice warm and teasing, but his gaze was intense, like he was studying me, trying to figure out exactly what I was thinking.

I glanced away, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention. There was something about the way he was looking at me that felt new, unexpected—like he was seeing me in a way no one else ever had. It was unnerving, thrilling, and terrifying all at once, and it made me feel like everything I thought I knew was suddenly up in the air.

The conversations around us continued, but they felt distant, muffled, as if the world had faded into the background. I could feel the weight of Oscar’s eyes still on me, searching, and for a moment, I found myself caught between the familiar and the unknown. Everything felt different, like the ground beneath me had shifted without warning, and all the little things I’d been so sure of were suddenly tangled up in emotions I hadn’t anticipated.

Oscar’s voice broke through my thoughts, quieter now, a touch more sincere. “You okay? You went quiet on me.”

I blinked, startled by how quickly my mind had wandered. “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Just… thinking.”

“About?” he pressed, his eyes soft but probing, clearly not satisfied with my evasive answer.

I hesitated, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. “About how you’re… different,” I said, the admission making my heart race. “Today, everything’s just… not what I expected.” I trailed off, unsure how to put into words the strange mix of excitement and uncertainty that was bubbling up inside me.

Oscar watched me for a moment, his expression shifting from playful to something gentler, more thoughtful. “I get it,” he said finally, his voice low and earnest. “It’s weird when things change on you, isn’t it? Like you’re used to one thing, and then suddenly it’s all flipped around.”

He leaned in a little closer, his tone softening as if he was letting me in on a secret. “But I don’t mind it,” he continued. “Everything today… it’s been new, yeah, but it’s good. You’re good.”

I swallowed, the honesty in his words catching me off guard. It was one thing to joke around, to let the banter cover up what was simmering underneath, but this felt different—like he was asking me to see him, really see him, and maybe let him see me in return.

For a moment, I didn’t know how to respond. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that mirrored the uncertainty I was feeling, a quiet plea hidden in his smile that made my heart skip. It wasn’t just a game anymore; it was something real, something that demanded a bit of courage I wasn’t sure I had.

Oscar’s usual cocky confidence had softened into something more tentative, almost as if he was waiting for me to say something that would make this strange, unexpected shift between us make sense. I could see it in the way his eyes flickered with unspoken questions, the way his hand hovered just a little closer to mine on the table, hesitant but hopeful.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but stopped, biting his lip in a rare moment of hesitation. I could feel the unsteady rhythm of my own breathing, matching the erratic beat of my heart. It was like standing on the edge of something, knowing that one step could change everything and still not being sure if I was ready to take it.

“I didn’t think… I mean, I didn’t expect this,” he finally said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. His fingers brushed mine, a barely-there touch that sent a shiver through me, and the simple contact felt more intimate than any of the flirting or banter we’d exchanged all day. “I’m not usually… like this.” He laughed, but it was shaky, almost self-conscious. “I’m just saying, you’re not the only one who’s kind of… thrown off.”

I glanced down at our almost-touching hands, the space between them feeling unbearably small and impossibly vast at the same time. The reality of what was happening—the shift from playful teasing to something deeper, more vulnerable—was terrifying and exhilarating. It was as if everything had turned upside down, leaving me with nothing to hold onto but the fragile, unspoken connection we’d built in the span of a few sun-soaked hours.

“I know what you mean,” I whispered, surprised at how raw my voice sounded. “I didn’t expect this either.” The words felt too small to capture the rush of emotions tangled inside me, but they were the most honest thing I could offer.

Oscar’s thumb grazed the back of my hand, a light, almost tentative touch, but it was enough to send a jolt of electricity straight through me. He smiled, a little lopsided and unsure, and it was so different from his usual bravado that it made my heart ache in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly, and there was something so genuine in his tone that it knocked the breath out of me. “I’m glad we’re… whatever this is.” He gestured vaguely between us, as if trying to name the unnameable, the strange and beautiful thing that had sprung up between the jokes and the splashes and the shared looks that felt like secrets.

I nodded, the lump in my throat making it hard to speak. “Me too,” I managed, and the simple admission felt like a leap off that precarious edge we’d been teetering on. “I’m glad it’s… us.”

Oscar’s gaze softened, and for a split second, the weight of the moment hung between us, thick with unspoken possibilities. It felt like we were on the cusp of something important, something that neither of us was quite ready to fully grasp, and the vulnerability of it all was terrifying and exhilarating.

But then, in true Oscar fashion, he broke the tension with a grin that was equal parts charming and infuriating. “You know,” he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his chin thoughtfully, “I’ve gotta admit, this whole ‘us’ thing is pretty great. But if you’re planning on crying, can you just give me a heads-up? I’m not emotionally equipped to handle that.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift from heart-to-heart to heart-to-humor. “Excuse me?” I laughed, trying to hide the relief that came with his playful deflection. “I’m not crying! And for the record, you’re the one who looks like you’re about to get misty-eyed.”

Oscar held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening. “Hey, no judgment. I just thought I’d bring tissues to our next deep and meaningful, you know? Maybe some popcorn, too. Really set the mood.”

I snorted, shoving his shoulder lightly, but the tension had eased, replaced by the familiar rhythm of our back-and-forth. “You’re impossible,” I said, shaking my head, but I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

Oscar winked, clearly pleased with himself for lightening the mood. “Yeah, but I’m your kind of impossible, right?”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no denying the truth in his words. “Yeah, yeah, don’t let it go to your head,” I shot back, but my heart felt lighter, the strange, heady mix of vulnerability and humor making the moment feel just right.

He laughed, clinking his glass against mine one more time. “Deal. But just so you know, this isn’t over,” he said, his voice dipping into that teasing but sincere tone that was quickly becoming his signature. “This ‘us’ thing… it’s still happening.”

I met his gaze, feeling a surge of warmth and maybe a little bit of hope. “Yeah,” I said, my smile softening. “It definitely is.” And with that, we let the conversation drift back to laughter and lightness, both of us content to leave the door wide open for whatever might come next.

Just as I started to relax into the ease of the moment, Mae’s voice cut through the noise like a dramatic trumpet blast. “Oh my god, did anyone else just see that?” she exclaimed, practically bouncing out of her chair. She was clutching her glass like it was some kind of award she was presenting to the whole table, eyes wide with exaggerated shock.

Oscar and I both froze, caught like deer in headlights as everyone else turned to look at us, half amused and half confused. Mae’s eyes were sparkling with delight, clearly enjoying her self-appointed role as the dinner’s designated narrator of drama.

“Seriously, did no one catch that?” Mae continued, pointing between Oscar and me like she was conducting an investigative report. “That was, like, a full-on rom-com moment! Staring, smiling, subtle hand-touching—am I the only one paying attention to this masterpiece unfolding?”

I could feel my face heating up as the entire table’s attention zeroed in on us. Hattie snorted, trying and failing to suppress a laugh, while Edie gave Mae a playful shove. “Stop being so dramatic, Mae,” Edie said, rolling her eyes but grinning all the same. “It’s not a soap opera.”

Mae, undeterred, waved her hands theatrically, clearly reveling in the spotlight. “No, no, you guys don’t get it. This is prime content! I’ve seen less chemistry on TV shows that have been running for five seasons!” She looked at us with mock seriousness, as if she was on the brink of tears. “Honestly, I’m emotional. I think I need a moment.”

Oscar rubbed the back of his neck, half-embarrassed, half-amused by Mae’s antics. “Okay, Mae, take it down a notch,” he said, trying to sound exasperated, but the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

I tried to cover my face with my hands, laughing despite my mortification. “Oh my god, can we not make this a thing?”

Mae ignored me completely, turning to Nicole and Belle as if she were addressing a captivated audience. “Moms, did you see it? Do we need to start planning a wedding, or should I pace myself?”

Nicole chuckled, giving me a sympathetic smile as she sipped her wine. “Mae, sweetie, let them breathe. But I will say, I’m glad to see our Oscar isn’t just all talk.” She winked at me, clearly enjoying every second of this impromptu performance.

Belle, looking equally amused, raised her glass. “To young love… or whatever this is,” she teased, and the whole table erupted in laughter.

Oscar groaned, though he was clearly more entertained than annoyed. “Thanks, Mae. Really appreciate the live commentary,” he said, rolling his eyes but flashing me a quick, conspiratorial smile that sent a flutter through my chest.

He leaned closer, his voice low so only I could hear. “Don’t worry, I’ll get her back for that later,” he promised, his tone half-playful, half-serious, and I could feel the warmth of his breath on my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I tried to play it cool, but the way he lingered, just a little closer than necessary, made my heart skip.

Meanwhile, Mae was still basking in the glow of her own theatrics, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied grin. “Honestly, you’re welcome. I’m just saying what we’re all thinking,” she quipped, flicking her hair over her shoulder like she was the star of the show.

“Can we get a replay, though?” Hattie chimed in, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Like, maybe a slow-mo version? I feel like I missed the pivotal moment.”

Edie, not one to be left out, waggled her eyebrows at me. “Yeah, can you guys just, like, do it again for the rest of us? We need to get the full experience.”

I buried my face in my hands, half laughing, half mortified. “You guys are the worst,” I muttered, but there was no real sting behind it. The entire scene was ridiculous, but it was the kind of ridiculousness that made me feel strangely at home, like I’d been dropped into the middle of this whirlwind of banter and suddenly found my place.

Oscar squeezed my shoulder lightly, his touch grounding me amidst the teasing chaos. “They’re just jealous,” he whispered, his voice edged with that same flirtatious charm that had been keeping me on my toes all day. “It’s not every day they get front-row seats to this level of entertainment.”

I shot him a look, trying to suppress a grin. “Oh, is that what this is? Entertainment?”

He shrugged, unabashed. “Well, it’s definitely not boring. And I think we’re pulling off the lead roles pretty well, don’t you?”

Mae pretended to dab at her eyes, clutching her napkin dramatically. “Look at them, already talking like a power couple. I can’t—my heart is too full.” She pointed a finger at us. “Y’all better invite me to the premiere of your inevitable Netflix series.”

“Mae, if you don’t dial it back, you’re getting written out in season two,” Oscar warned, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on me, a mix of amusement and something softer that made my pulse race.

Mae gasped, clutching her imaginary pearls like she’d just been gravely insulted. “You can’t cut out the comic relief! I’m the fan favorite. Besides, the show would be boring without me stirring the pot.” She leaned back with a smug smile, crossing her arms like she was daring anyone to challenge her.

Hattie snorted, jumping in without missing a beat. “Yeah, but we all know you’re the kind of character they kill off in a dramatic mid-season twist. Gotta keep the ratings up.”

Mae threw her head back, rolling her eyes with exaggerated flair. “Please, they wouldn’t dare. The viewers would riot.” She turned her attention back to us, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. “And speaking of plot twists, when’s the big kiss scene? I mean, I’m just saying, it’s been teased for like, three episodes already.”

My jaw dropped, caught between mortification and laughter as Oscar choked on his drink, struggling to keep his composure. “Mae!” I squeaked, covering my face with my hands, feeling my cheeks burn hotter than the grill. “Can we not?”

Mae shrugged, completely unfazed. “I’m just being honest. The audience wants what it wants.” She glanced around the table, gesturing to everyone with an over-the-top flourish. “I mean, look at us. We’re all invested.”

Oscar rubbed his temples, but he was smiling, shaking his head at his sister’s relentless antics. “Mae, you’re officially banned from all future dinners. You’ve peaked as an agent of chaos.”

Mae shot him a smug look. “I’d like to see you try. I’m basically your PR manager at this point, and you should be grateful. I’m giving you the best subplot.”

Nicole chuckled, shaking her head at her kids. “Alright, enough, everyone. Let’s give them some peace. I think they’ve been roasted enough for one night.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, trying to regain some composure, but every time I glanced at Oscar, he was already looking at me, that easy, knowing smile still playing on his lips. Despite the theatrics, the jokes, and the lighthearted chaos of it all, there was an unmistakable comfort in being next to him, like we were in on some private joke the rest of the table was only half aware of.

As the conversation shifted back to other topics and plates clattered with second helpings, I found myself sneaking another glance at Oscar. He caught me looking and winked, leaning in just enough to whisper, “You good?”

I nodded, feeling that same flutter from earlier, the one that seemed to have settled somewhere deep in my chest. “Yeah,” I said, my voice light but sincere. “I think I’m better than good.”

But as the conversation around the table continued, the laughter and clinking of glasses filling the air, I couldn’t stop my mind from drifting back to Mae’s earlier comment—the one about the “big kiss scene” that had practically sent me into orbit. At the time, I’d brushed it off, laughing it away as another one of her over-the-top jokes. But now, with the evening winding down and Oscar still sitting close enough that I could feel the warmth radiating off him, the idea lingered, stubbornly refusing to be dismissed.

I glanced at him, catching the way he was half-listening to whatever Chris was saying about the grill, but his focus kept sneaking back to me, a subtle sideways glance here, a quiet smile there. It was like we were stuck in this unspoken loop, constantly circling each other without ever quite landing. And suddenly, Mae’s words didn’t seem so ridiculous. The thought of kissing Oscar—of actually closing that gap between us—wasn’t just some wild, far-off fantasy. It felt… possible. Real. And that was what scared me the most.

Because Mae wasn’t wrong—there was a tension between us, a pull that had been there all day, simmering beneath the surface. Every time Oscar leaned in a little too close, every shared look that lingered just a second too long, it was there, buzzing quietly, daring us to acknowledge it. I could feel it now, that quiet hum in the air that made every casual touch and playful nudge feel loaded, like we were teetering on the edge of something that could change everything.

The thought of kissing him—of actually letting myself take that leap—sent a rush of nerves and excitement crashing over me. What would it feel like? Would it be like all the other moments today, funny and light but with that undeniable spark? Or would it be something else entirely, something that would make it impossible to go back to just playful banter and harmless flirting?

I stole another glance at Oscar, watching the way his lips curved into a smirk as he teased Mae about something I couldn’t quite catch. It was infuriating how easily he could shift from serious to silly, how he could make me feel so at ease one second and then completely unsteady the next. I wondered if he was thinking about it, too—if the idea of us had crossed his mind, lingering like it was now in mine.

My thoughts were interrupted as Mae, ever the observant troublemaker, caught me staring. She wiggled her eyebrows and shot me a knowing grin, clearly reveling in her role as the self-appointed matchmaker of the night. I quickly looked away, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks, but the question she’d planted was still there, stubborn and insistent.

What would it be like, kissing Oscar?

It was a question that hovered between us, unasked but undeniable, and as the evening wore on, it only seemed to grow louder. And while I wasn’t sure of the answer, one thing was becoming clear: the idea of it wasn’t just Mae’s dramatic imagination running wild. It was mine too. And maybe, just maybe, it was only a matter of time before we found out for ourselves.

As the sun dipped lower, casting the backyard in soft hues of orange and pink, the vibe around the table shifted. Plates were cleared, glasses refilled, and the conversation became a gentle hum, winding down into the comfortable lull of a summer evening. The air was warm, carrying the faint, salty scent of the ocean just beyond the house. I could feel the day transitioning into something quieter, softer, like a whispered promise of what was to come.

Oscar nudged my arm gently, his smile easy and inviting. “Want to get out of here for a bit?” he asked, his voice low enough that it felt like a secret. “I think I’ve had my fill of Mae’s commentary for the night.”

I laughed, grateful for the excuse to escape the watchful eyes of his sisters. “Yeah, before she starts live-tweeting this,” I joked, grabbing my sandals and following him away from the table. He led us down the path that cut through the backyard, winding toward the beach. The sound of laughter and chatter faded behind us, replaced by the rhythmic crash of waves and the soft crunch of sand beneath our feet.

The sky was a watercolor canvas of fading light, the last streaks of daylight blending into deep blues and purples as we reached the shore. It was quiet here, the kind of quiet that feels intentional, like the world had pressed pause just for us. Oscar slipped off his shoes, and I followed suit, the cool, damp sand squishing pleasantly between my toes. It felt cheesy and cliché, like something out of a movie, but I didn’t care. It was perfect.

We walked in silence for a bit, side by side, our footsteps falling in sync as the waves lapped at the shore. Every so often, Oscar would kick at the sand, sending little sprays of it up in front of us, and I’d laugh, nudging him back with my shoulder. There was no rush, no destination; it was just us, drifting along the edge of the water like we were caught in our own little bubble.

Oscar glanced at me, his face soft in the twilight. “You know, I think this is the part where we’re supposed to talk about something deep and meaningful,” he said, his voice teasing but light, the kind of tone that made everything feel a little less serious, a little easier to handle.

I smiled, rolling my eyes but playing along. “Oh, right. This is the part where we share our hopes, dreams, and darkest secrets, right? Because nothing says ‘deep conversation’ like walking barefoot on the beach.”

“Exactly,” Oscar said, grinning. “But seriously, I’m glad you’re here. Tonight’s been… fun. Weird and chaotic, but fun.”

I nodded, feeling the truth of his words settle over me. “Yeah, it’s been… something,” I admitted, letting out a small laugh. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect, but this wasn’t it. In a good way.”

We walked a little further, the quiet between us no longer uncomfortable but filled with the soft roar of the ocean and the distant calls of seagulls. It felt like the perfect cliché—sunset, ocean waves, and just enough awkwardness to keep it from feeling too polished. Oscar stopped suddenly, bending down to pick up a small, smooth shell and handing it to me with a mock-serious expression.

“A souvenir,” he said, his eyes twinkling in the fading light. “To remember this incredibly cheesy moment.”

I took the shell, laughing at how ridiculous and oddly sweet the gesture was. “I’ll treasure it forever,” I said, mimicking his serious tone, holding the shell up like it was a precious gem. “And when I tell people about this night, I’ll say, ‘There was this guy, and he gave me a shell on a beach at sunset. It was painfully corny, but somehow it worked.’”

Oscar chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Hey, corny works sometimes. Especially if the right person’s involved.” He looked at me then, his smile fading just enough that I could see the sincerity underneath all the jokes. “I like this,” he said, his voice softer. “I like… us.”

My heart did a little flip, caught off guard by the quiet honesty of his words. It wasn’t dramatic or grand, just simple and real, and that made it even better. “I like us too,” I admitted, feeling the last bit of sunlight brush against my skin as the horizon swallowed it whole.

Oscar stepped closer, his shoulder brushing mine as we stood there, toes in the sand, watching the sky darken. It felt like we’d crossed some invisible line, one that had been waiting for us all day, and now, with the ocean as our only witness, it didn’t feel scary anymore. It felt right.

The waves crashed softly in the background, a rhythmic soundtrack to the unspoken feelings that hung between us. I expected another joke, something light to keep the moment easy, but instead, Oscar’s expression shifted, his smile fading into something more serious, more introspective. He glanced at the horizon, the last slivers of light reflecting in his eyes, before turning back to me.

“You know,” he started, his voice a little lower, almost hesitant, “about that whole ‘sharing secrets’ thing…”

I raised an eyebrow, expecting another playful jab, but his tone had changed. There was a weight to his words that made my heart pick up pace, and I could tell he was wrestling with something. “Yeah?” I prompted gently, unsure where he was going with this but sensing it was important.

Oscar let out a long breath, his gaze dropping to the sand as if he was trying to gather his thoughts. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck—a nervous habit I hadn’t seen from him before. “It’s… kind of a big deal. And it’s something I don’t usually talk about when I first meet someone.”

I felt a flicker of concern, mixed with curiosity. “Okay,” I said softly, trying to encourage him without pushing too hard. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

He nodded, chewing on his lip for a moment before meeting my eyes. “So… I’m not just some random guy who likes to crash neighborhood dinners and play chicken in pools.” He paused, as if weighing his next words carefully. “I’m actually… a Formula One driver.”

I blinked, the words taking a moment to fully register. “Wait, what?” I said, half-laughing in disbelief, expecting him to crack a smile and tell me it was just another joke. But Oscar’s expression remained serious, his eyes searching mine for a reaction.

“I’m a Formula One driver,” he repeated, more firmly this time, his voice steady but laced with something vulnerable. “I race for a living. It’s my job, my whole life, really. I’ve been doing it for years, and it’s… well, it’s a lot. I didn’t want to bring it up right away because, honestly, it changes how people see me. And I like how things are right now. Just… you and me, without all that other stuff.”

My mind reeled, trying to connect the dots between the Oscar I’d spent the day with and the image of a high-speed, glamorous world I’d only ever seen on TV. I had a million questions, but the first one that slipped out was, “Are you serious?”

He nodded, his expression softening at my shock. “Yeah, I am. I travel all the time—races in different countries, press, sponsors, all of it. It’s not just a job; it’s this crazy, intense lifestyle, and it’s a lot to deal with. That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up. I wanted to just be… me. Not the guy on the track.”

I stared at him, the quiet, easy-going Oscar who had been joking and flirting with me all day, now suddenly framed in a completely different light. I tried to picture him in a racing suit, helmet on, speeding at breakneck pace in front of thousands of fans. The thought was surreal, but the sincerity in his eyes grounded me, reminding me that he was still the same guy who had been by my side all day.

“Wow,” I breathed, still trying to wrap my head around it. “I mean… that’s incredible. And intense. I can’t even imagine…”

Oscar shrugged, his expression a mix of pride and exhaustion. “It’s got its moments. The adrenaline, the rush, it’s amazing. But it’s also lonely sometimes. It’s hard to know who’s around for me and who’s around for what I do. That’s why it’s been so… nice today. Just hanging out, no expectations, no pressure.”

I nodded, my mind still racing to keep up, but my heart settled on one thing: the vulnerability in his voice. “I get why you didn’t say anything,” I said softly. “I’m glad you told me, though. And for what it’s worth, it doesn’t change anything for me. I still see you the same way.”

Oscar’s shoulders relaxed, a hint of relief passing over his face. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly. “I just wanted you to know who I really am. Not the headlines, not the highlight reels. Just… Oscar.”

I reached out, squeezing his hand lightly. “Well, Oscar, the Formula One driver,” I teased gently, “you’re kind of stuck with me now. So I hope you’re ready for that.”

He laughed, a sound filled with genuine warmth, and squeezed my hand back. “I think I can handle it,” he said, his smile returning. “But I promise, no pit stops on our beach walks.”

We kept walking, but now my mind was buzzing with questions I couldn’t quite hold back. The idea of Oscar—this funny, charming guy—also being a professional race car driver was a lot to process. My curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to him, trying to piece together this new version of him I was just starting to understand.

“So, what’s it like?” I asked, my voice tinged with excitement and genuine intrigue. “I mean, racing. The whole lifestyle… is it really as glamorous as it looks?”

Oscar smiled, his eyes distant for a moment as if recalling a million memories at once. “Sometimes it is. The travel, the fans, the adrenaline of the race—it’s all surreal. But it’s not always as glamorous as people think. There’s a lot of pressure, a lot of sleepless nights. You’re constantly on the move, training, dealing with the media, and sometimes you barely get a moment to yourself.”

I nodded, hanging onto every word. “Do you ever get scared? I mean, it’s not exactly a nine-to-five job.”

He glanced at me, his expression thoughtful. “Every time I get in the car, there’s this moment of fear, like a little voice in the back of my mind reminding me how dangerous it is. But once the lights go out and the race starts, it’s all instinct. You don’t really think—you just drive. It’s weird, but the fear kind of becomes part of the thrill.”

I could hear the passion in his voice, and it struck me how much more there was to him than I’d realized. “Do you ever… wish it was different? Like, that maybe you could slow down?”

Oscar chuckled softly, kicking at the sand as we walked. “Sometimes, yeah. It’s exhausting. But then there’s this moment when you’re flying down the track, everything’s a blur, and it’s just you and the car. Nothing else matters. It’s the most alive I’ve ever felt.” He paused, turning to me with a small, earnest smile. “And then there are nights like this, where I get to just be a normal guy hanging out on the beach. It’s a nice change of pace.”

I found myself smiling, charmed by his openness. “I can’t even imagine living like that—always on the go, never really having time to just… be. But it sounds incredible, in a crazy sort of way.”

“It is,” he agreed, looking out at the ocean, the moonlight catching the edges of his profile. “But it’s also hard to let people in. Everyone has expectations, and sometimes it’s hard to know who actually sees you and who just sees the guy in the helmet.”

I squeezed his hand, wanting to offer some kind of comfort. “Well, I see you, Oscar. And not just the driver. I see the guy who’s annoyingly persistent, who’s actually kind of sweet when he wants to be.” I nudged him playfully. “And the guy who’s really bad at keeping secrets, apparently.”

He laughed, a genuine, relieved sound that made my heart swell. “Yeah, I guess I’m not as mysterious as I thought.” He paused, then added, “But I’m glad you know. I wanted you to know.”

I studied him, feeling like I was seeing Oscar in an entirely new light—not just the charming guy who had been teasing me all day, but someone with layers, with dreams and fears that ran deeper than I’d ever guessed. “Thanks for telling me,” I said softly. “It means a lot that you’d share all this with me.”

Oscar smirked, but there was a hint of shyness behind it. “Yeah, well, you’ve got this way of making me spill my guts. You should be careful—I might start telling you my deepest, darkest secrets.”

I laughed, nudging him with my shoulder. “Oh, don’t tempt me. I’ve got a lot of questions, you know. Like, what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in front of a crowd? Or do you have a superstitious pre-race ritual? Maybe something involving, like, wearing your socks inside out for good luck?”

He groaned, but the playful gleam in his eyes told me he was enjoying this. “Socks inside out? That’s rookie level. I’m way more sophisticated—think lucky underwear, a very specific breakfast, and a pep talk to my car that would make me sound insane if anyone heard it.”

I snorted, covering my mouth to stifle the laugh. “You talk to your car? Please tell me you’ve named it.”

Oscar looked mock-offended, clutching his chest dramatically. “Of course I’ve named it! What kind of driver would I be if I didn’t? But that’s classified information—I can’t just give away my car’s name on the first beach walk.”

I rolled my eyes, still giggling at the idea of him having full-on conversations with his race car. “I think you’re just scared to admit you’ve named it something ridiculous like ‘Lightning McQueen’ or ‘Speedy McSpeedface.’”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ll have you know my car’s name is very dignified and deeply meaningful,” he said, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably. “And it definitely doesn’t sound like a character from a kids’ movie.”

I raised an eyebrow, teasing him back. “Uh-huh. Sure. And do you also tuck it in at night and read it bedtime stories?”

Oscar threw his head back in laughter, his hand squeezing mine. “You’re killing me here. But hey, maybe you can come see it sometime—if you’re good, I’ll even let you meet her.”

“Oh, meeting the car? Wow, that sounds serious,” I teased, pretending to be deeply flattered. “Next thing you know, you’ll be inviting me to the races, front-row seats and all.”

Oscar grinned, his eyes twinkling under the moonlight. “Keep playing your cards right, and you never know. I might just need a good luck charm in the stands. Besides,” he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a flirty whisper, “it’d be a shame not to have the prettiest girl at the track cheering me on.”

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks again, the casual way he flirted throwing me off balance every time. “You’ve really perfected the smooth-talking driver act, haven’t you?” I teased, raising an eyebrow but unable to stop the grin tugging at my lips.

Oscar smirked, his confidence unwavering. “What can I say? When you’ve got someone worth impressing, you pull out all the stops.”

I rolled my eyes, but the butterflies in my stomach were in full flight. “Well, I’m not that easy to impress. You might need more than just a fancy car and smooth lines.”

He pretended to think it over, scratching his chin dramatically. “Hmm, okay. Let’s see… I’ve got fast cars, some world travel under my belt, and a pretty decent sense of humor, if I do say so myself. Oh, and I’m great at chicken fights in the pool.” He gave me a sideways glance, his smile playful but with a hint of sincerity beneath it. “But if that’s not enough, I guess I’ll just have to keep trying.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, keep working on it. I’m a tough crowd.”

Oscar slowed his steps, his voice turning softer as he leaned a little closer. “I like a challenge.”

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, the playful banter gave way to something a little deeper. There was that same flicker of vulnerability from earlier, like he was letting his guard down just a bit more, and it made my heart skip. I wasn’t sure what to say, so I just met his gaze, feeling the intensity of the moment settle between us like a quiet hum.

“Careful,” I finally said, trying to keep the mood light even though my pulse was racing. “You might bite off more than you can chew.”

Oscar grinned, but his eyes were still locked on mine, the flirty bravado softening into something more genuine. “I think I can handle it,” he said quietly, and there was something in his tone that made my breath catch, like this wasn’t just another joke, another flirtation. It was a real promise.

Before I could respond, he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch was so casual, yet it sent a rush of warmth through me, leaving me a little breathless. “You’re making this easy,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing, but his gaze was steady, holding mine with a kind of quiet intensity that made my heart race.

“Easy?” I managed to say, trying to sound composed but failing miserably.

He nodded, his smile widening just a bit. “Yeah. You make it easy to want to keep trying.”

I swallowed, the weight of his words settling over me. It felt like we were on the verge of something bigger, something that went beyond the playful teasing and light-hearted flirting. And as cheesy as it sounded, standing there with the ocean breeze in my hair and the moonlight casting soft shadows around us, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the kind of moment where everything could change.

But instead of saying anything profound, I just smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand still lingering near my cheek. “Well, if you’re trying to win me over with flattery and moonlit walks on the beach, you’re off to a decent start.”

Oscar chuckled, dropping his hand but staying close. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” He paused, glancing at the ocean before looking back at me with that same mix of playfulness and sincerity. “You ready to head back?”

I nodded, feeling the tension in my chest ease as we started walking again, the easy rhythm between us falling back into place. “Yeah, but don’t think this lets you off the hook. You’ve still got some impressing to do.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Challenge accepted.”

And as we made our way back up the beach, the stars twinkling above and the sound of the waves following us, I couldn’t help but feel that this night—this cheesy, corny, perfect night—was only the beginning of something even better. There was an easy warmth between us now, a quiet understanding that whatever this was, we were both on board. As we reached the house, the familiar noise of chatter and laughter spilled out onto the patio, pulling us back into the lively fold of everyone gathered around.

The second we stepped onto the deck, Mae was the first to spot us, her eyes lighting up like she’d just won the gossip jackpot. “Well, well, well, look who decided to rejoin the party,” she called out, clapping her hands together in mock celebration. “Did you two lovebirds enjoy your romantic stroll under the moonlight?”

Oscar shot her a warning look, but it only made her grin wider. “Mae, do you ever get tired of hearing yourself talk?” he quipped, trying to sound exasperated but failing to hide his smile.

Hattie, never one to miss an opportunity, leaned back in her chair, her arms crossed with a knowing smirk. “Oh, come on, Oscar. We saw you guys sneaking off together. What was it? A deep, soul-searching chat? Confessions of undying love?”

Edie snorted, adding her two cents with a dramatic gasp. “Wait, did he finally break out the big romantic moves? Did he tell you about his tragic backstory and show you his sensitive side?”

I laughed, shaking my head but feeling my cheeks flush under the teasing. “Wow, you guys really have an active imagination,” I said, trying to play it off casually. “We were just… talking.”

“Talking,” Mae repeated, her tone dripping with mock suspicion. “Sure, sure. That’s what they all say before the dramatic kiss in the rain scene.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, but he was clearly more amused than annoyed. “For your information, Mae, we were just enjoying a peaceful walk without all the peanut gallery commentary,” he shot back, though his playful glare did little to stop the relentless teasing.

“Oh, right,” Hattie said, putting on an exaggerated, dreamy voice. “Staring into each other’s eyes, holding hands, whispering sweet nothings—totally normal, everyday stuff.”

Edie gave an exaggerated sigh, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “I swear, this is better than any rom-com. I feel blessed to witness it in real time.”

Oscar groaned, rubbing his temples but unable to keep the smile off his face. “You guys are the worst,” he said, shaking his head, but the laughter in his eyes was unmistakable.

Hattie leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she gave Oscar a nudge. “So, did you tell her your big secret yet?” she asked, her tone half-joking but laced with just enough seriousness to make it feel like there was more to it. “You know, the one where you’re not just some guy who likes moonlit walks and cheesy flirting?”

Oscar rolled his eyes, but his shoulders tensed slightly. “Yeah, Hattie. I told her.”

Hattie smirked, turning her attention to me with a knowing look. “Well, good. Now you’ve seen the full Oscar package: charming flirt, terrible dancer, and, oh yeah, a race car driver who’s apparently allergic to being straightforward about it.”

I laughed, catching the hint of truth beneath her teasing. “Yeah, he told me. It was quite the plot twist,” I said, shooting Oscar a playful glance. “I mean, I thought I was just hanging out with some guy who likes chicken fights in pools, and then bam! Turns out he’s a high-speed adrenaline junkie.”

Oscar let out a half-hearted groan, but I could see the smile tugging at his lips. “See? This is why I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Now I’m the guy who goes from chicken fights to explaining how I don’t die doing my job.”

Edie leaned forward, her grin wide. “Oh, come on. You love it. And honestly, I think it’s pretty cool she didn’t bolt when you told her. That’s a win in my book.”

I shrugged, feeling oddly proud of myself for rolling with the revelation. “I mean, you could’ve told me you were a secret agent or something, and I’d probably still be here. But don’t get any ideas—I’m not driving any getaway cars for you.”

Hattie raised her glass in mock solemnity. “To not scaring her off with the ‘I drive at 200 mph for a living’ thing. Honestly, it’s about time someone just saw you for, you know, you.”

Oscar smiled, his eyes flickering with gratitude. “Thanks, Hattie. And yeah,” he turned back to me, squeezing my shoulder lightly, “I’m glad you’re here. Even if my sisters are determined to embarrass me at every turn.”

I laughed, leaning into the warmth of his side hug. “Hey, I’m just glad I got to hear the big secret firsthand. And for the record, you’re a lot more than just the guy on the track.”

Mae pretended to wipe away a tear, her voice cracking with fake emotion. “Look at them, so supportive. I’m not crying, you’re crying.”

Oscar groaned again, but his eyes never left mine, filled with a quiet, earnest appreciation that made the teasing worth it. “You guys are relentless.”

Edie smirked, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms. “Hey, you can’t blame us. We’ve got a front-row seat to the Oscar Romance Special. We’re just waiting for the next episode, preferably with more kissing.”

I nearly choked on my drink, caught off guard by her bluntness, and Oscar’s face turned a shade of pink I’d never seen before. “Edie,” he said, trying to sound stern but failing as a laugh escaped him. “I think you’re confusing our lives with one of your trashy reality shows.”

Mae jumped in, wagging her finger dramatically. “Excuse me, but if you’re going to give us reality TV vibes, at least make it entertaining. We need more dramatic confessions and less awkward hovering. I mean, seriously, when’s the big kiss scene?”

I looked at Oscar, my face heating up at the thought, but I decided to play along. “Well, Oscar, if you’ve got any more romantic revelations planned, you’d better warn me so I can, you know, brace myself.”

Oscar leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper just for me. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m full of surprises. And if you think that was my best move, you’re in for a wild ride.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool but failing to hide my smile. “Wild ride? Wow, is that a racing pun or are you just that confident?”

He chuckled, giving me a quick wink. “Both. But you’ll have to stick around to find out which one’s more accurate.”

Mae let out a dramatic sigh, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Oh my god, just kiss already! You’re both practically oozing romantic tension. It’s painful to watch.”

Oscar’s grin turned devilish, and he leaned back, his eyes flicking to me with a playful glint. “See what I have to put up with? I swear, it’s like having a peanut gallery that’s also my personal cheer squad.”

I nudged him with my elbow, unable to keep from laughing. “You should be grateful. Not everyone gets this kind of enthusiastic support.”

He nodded, feigning deep thought. “You’re right. Maybe I should embrace it. I mean, it’s not every day you get heckled into flirting.”

Hattie jumped in, pointing her fork at us. “Yeah, and if you’re going to flirt, at least do it properly. We want fireworks, people.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll work on my technique. But I can’t promise anything with all these eyes watching.”

I rolled my eyes, but the playful energy between us was impossible to ignore. “No pressure or anything,” I said, smirking at him. “But apparently, you’ve got a lot to live up to.”

Oscar leaned closer, his smile turning sly. “I thrive under pressure,” he said, his voice low and smooth, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. “Guess I’ll just have to make it memorable.”

His words hung in the air, flirtatious yet full of that quiet promise that left my heart racing. And as the night went on, filled with more teasing and playful banter, I realized that every joke, every look, was just another layer to the electric, unpredictable thing that was building between us.

Mae clinked her glass dramatically, interrupting my thoughts. “To Oscar, the wannabe Romeo, and to his leading lady, who’s clearly got the patience of a saint. Cheers to the saga we didn’t know we needed.”

I laughed, lifting my glass and meeting Oscar’s gaze. “Cheers,” I said, feeling the thrill of whatever this was settle comfortably around us. Because no matter how ridiculous or flirtatious it got, there was no denying that this was one ride I didn’t want to get off anytime soon.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09 @fix5idiots

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moonmaiden1996 · 13 days ago

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Hello! I’d love to see Astarion & the reader finding a nice little corner of a tavern to chat (and gossip a little lol), people watch, and stay warm with a hot drink/food during the holidays. Thank you! 🥰

This one sort of went rogue on this one because Astarion is such a gossip!

Astarion reclined in his chair with a languid grace, his posture more relaxed than usual. The wine in his glass swirled lazily, catching the dim light as his sharp gaze swept across the tavern. The alcohol had softened the usual edges of his composed demeanor, leaving him looking almost too content as he took in the lively spectacle around him. His lips curled into a wicked smile, eyes glinting with mischief as they flicked from one patron to another, clearly entertained by something more than just the evening’s revelry.

You settled into your own seat, the warmth of your mug of cider seeping into your hands as the steam drifted lazily upward. You glanced around the room, taking in the eclectic mix of travelers, adventurers, and townsfolk filling the space. When your eyes met Astarion’s again, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. "Oh? And what is holding your attention?" you asked, your voice laced with playful curiosity.

Astarion leaned in, his grin widening as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Oh, darling, it’s the drama," he purred, flicking a finger toward a corner where a group of adventurers, some of them familiar faces from your camp, sat engaged in animated conversation. "That table over there, to be specific. The intrigue in their eyes is far more entertaining than the contents of their mugs."

You followed his gaze, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. "Let me guess, you’re dying to gossip about Lae'zel and Wyll, aren’t you?"

Astarion’s smirk stretched into something more devilish, the tip of his wine glass tilting as he gave an almost imperceptible nod. "Oh, absolutely. Lae'zel and Wyll? How could I resist?" He took a leisurely sip of his wine, savoring the moment before continuing with dramatic flair. "Lae'zel is definitely sharing a bedroll with Wyll. I saw him dash in there after a hunt. Quickly, I might add. Honestly, good for him—he’s brave, I’ll give him that. I can't imagine she’s the easiest to satisfy." He paused, his expression one of mock solemnity. "Better him than me, I’ll tell you that much."

You let out a low laugh, unable to hold it back. "Oh, I noticed that too. The way they look at each other—it's practically palpable. I wouldn’t be shocked if they’ve been sharing more than just a campfire lately."

Astarion’s eyes sparkled with wicked delight, clearly relishing the gossip. "Jealous? Me?" he purred, his voice oozing with sarcasm. "Oh no, darling, I have no desire to be tangled in all that... well, enthusiasm." He waved a hand dismissively, as though brushing away an annoying thought. "Especially not when there are so many far more pleasant ways to spend a night." He wiggled his fingers in the air with a wink, as though casting an invisible charm.

You leaned forward with a smirk, a teasing glint in your eyes. "I think Wyll might secretly be enjoying himself, though. He plays the noble knight, but under that shiny armor? I bet there’s a wild side waiting to be unleashed. And I’m pretty sure Lae'zel is just the one to bring it out."

Astarion chuckled, the sound dark and amused, clearly enjoying the banter. "You could be right," he mused, swirling his wine with languid satisfaction. "I wonder if she’s showing him some of her... real combat techniques, if you catch my meaning." He took another leisurely sip, his gaze flicking around the tavern, savoring the moment. "But it seems we’re not the only couple catching the eye of the room. I’ve seen Gale sneaking into far too many portals lately."

You blinked in surprise. "No! With who?"

Astarion raised an eyebrow, a sly smile curling at the corners of his mouth. "Who, indeed?" he teased. "Though I’ll wager you can make an educated guess." His eyes sparkled with mischief.

"Shadowheart?"

The vampire gave an incredulous laugh. "Gods no! She’s frosty enough to snap his appendage right off," he mocked with a shudder, clearly enjoying the thought of it.

You tilted your head, considering the possibilities, before leaning in even closer and lowering your voice. "Karlach?"

Astarion’s smile deepened, his voice smooth with a satisfying, smug satisfaction. "No, darling. It’s Halsin," he said with the air of someone who had just reveal a particularly juicy secret.

"Halsin?" you gasped, eyes wide in surprise. "With Gale? I thought Gale was a ladies' man!"

"Please," Astarion drawled, waving a hand dismissively. "The man’s more of a flip-flopper than a summer breeze. He’ll crawl into whoever’s bedroll is closest."

"Well, I suppose it takes one manwhore to know another," you quipped, your smile mischievous.

"Touche," Astarion smirked, lifting his glass in a mock salute. "You’ve got me there."

He leaned back in his chair, clearly pleased with himself. "Oh, how delightful, darling. We should make a habit of this—spending our winter nights gossiping and observing the curious creatures who wander into places like this. It’s an endless source of entertainment." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "To good gossip, good company, and the endless parade of fascinating characters."

You clinked your cider mug against his glass, your smile playful and wicked. "And to the most fascinating of companions," you teased, delighted by the way his smile deepened in response.

As the evening wore on, and the warmth of your drinks mingled with the laughter and chatter that filled the tavern, you found yourself feeling more content than you had in ages. The world outside might have been cold and biting, but here, nestled in this cozy corner, surrounded by good company, sharp wit, and better gossip, everything felt perfectly in place.

#astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 #astarion #baulders gate astarion #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #balders gate tav #baulders gate 3 #balders gate 3

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andscene-if · 11 months ago

Text

AND SCENE—an 18+ slice of life plunges you, a nepotism baby, into the major spotlight as the lead in a highly anticipated movie, navigating swarms of hate, swirling scandals, dating rumours, false tabloid reports, and invasive paparazzi.

Breaking news—the love interest role in Claire White's latest blockbuster finally has a star, and it's none other than [MC], pictured above, the youngest offspring of Hollywood moguls. Brace yourselves for a wild ride as [MC], usually seen in their parents' flicks, takes on a meatier role in one of next year's most hyped movies.

But hold the popcorn—whispers on the red carpet suggest [MC]'s previous filmography is more "meh" than marvellous.

Is this casting coup the pinnacle of Hollywood nepotism, or will [MC] flip the script and prove they're a force to be reckoned with? Love them or hate them, one thing's for sure: this star-studded spectacle is about to kick off, and only time will spill the juiciest deets straight from the set.

So, grab your shades, folks, because this Hollywood rollercoaster is just getting warmed up and PinkCelebTea will report every step of the way—you know how it is!

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NEXT UP: Our insiders spill the tea—L Alvarez ain't exactly doing cartwheels about acting alongside what they're dubbing an 'untalented and undeserving' co-star. Trouble behind the scenes already?

# Choose the movie genre & title + those of your previous 4 films. # Customise your MC & public persona. # Navigate drama in front and behind the screen. # Shoot the movie cover & go on press tour. # Prove you're more than just a nepo kid...or don't. # Romance one out of four love interests. # Maybe even snag a few nominations by the end!

THE CO-STAR [M/F]—Louis/Luana Alvarez.

Appearance: 6'0. Brunette with curly hair (short for m, chest-length for f), pale skin and dark brown eyes. Signature style includes a white shirt/blouse, top buttons undone, and loose pants. Always impeccably dressed, with a flair for full-on glamour on special occasions, such as the red carpet. Personality: Reserved and quiet. While not everyone can pull off that demeanour, they do it flawlessly. Fans absolutely adore their composed exterior, noting, "it adds to their mystique."

THE MAKEUP ARTIST [F] — Red.

Appearance: 5'7. Long ginger hair, tanned skin adorned with freckles, and green eyes. Often dressed in skintight black or dark attire, with a scarlet shade coating her lips. Personality: Red exudes calm confidence with a soft-spoken demeanour, yet she's not one to be underestimated. She holds herself in a thoughtful, sensual, and quick-witted manner.

THE BARTENDER [M/F] — Zayn/Zara Lao.

Appearance: 5'11. Brunette with wavy hair (short for m, just below shoulders for f), tan skin, brown eyes, and a distinctive left brow slit. They've also got tattoos all over their body. Since the club gets hot quickly, you'll usually find them in something small and non-constricting, like a vest top and a pair of jeans. Personality: Unapologetically outspoken, they don't hold back. Blunt yet surprisingly charming, they've become somewhat of a local favourite in the area, rubbing shoulders with the right kind of people.

THE RIVAL [M/F] — Phoenix Ryder.

Appearance: 5'11. Black tightly curled hair (short for m, long for f & often styled differently), dark skin, and brown eyes. They sport a 90s-inspired style—often seen in loose-fitting denim jeans, a breezy shirt/crop top, and adorned with silver rings. Personality: Suave, charismatic, confident, and a touch cheeky—checking all the Hollywood boxes. As noted by many, "a legend in the making."

++contains mentions of alcohol and drug use, violence, explicit language, and optional sexual content++

DEMO TBA | CHARACTER INTROS

reblogs are appreciated :) thanks for reading!!

#interactive fiction #masterpost #wip #cog #choicescript #interactive game #dashingdon #hosted game #choice of games

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comatosebunny09 · 13 hours ago

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As a result of watching more dramas, humor me.

You plan to go home for the holidays to spend them with your parents.

Your mother’s been setting you up on blind dates in hopes of eventually finding you a match. She reasons you’re not getting any younger, so it’s time you settle down and start working on a family. Her intentions are good, but you just wish she’d stop badgering you.

You don’t necessarily live the lifestyle where you can afford to have a partner right now.

You work for Onychinus’ leader, Sylus, as an assassin. You’re at the peak of your game, so much so that you’re considered his right hand by his enemies. You also secretly harbor feelings for your boss, but you know they’re fruitless because you think a relationship, let alone with you, is the furthest thing from his mind.

Anyways, you’re drinking at one of Sylus’ bars one evening, venting to him about your mother. He always humors you when you’re not working—you bring a certain flair to his life that he admits makes his days much more entertaining.

“Why don’t I pretend to be your boyfriend, then? Just to get her off your back,” he suggests with an amused crinkle to his eyes, watching you as he sips his whiskey.

You snort incredulously. Sylus and boyfriend are never two words you would imagine fitting in the same sentence. Still, you can’t deny entertaining the idea of what it’d be like to be something…more to him.

You brush him off as just humoring you as usual, snatching your coat from the barstool and fixing your boss with a sardonic smirk.

“Yeah, right. See ya around, bossman.”

Your flight home leaves first thing in the morning. As much as you would like to stick around to shoot the shit with him, you need your rest to deal with your mother come morning.

Fast forward, and you’re back in your childhood home. You feel strange, being in your cutesy, innocent bedroom like there isn’t so much invisible blood on your hands and like you haven’t long shed the sheltered skin you once wore when you were younger.

Your parents don’t know the full extent of what you do. They know you make a generous amount of money—you’ve bought them luxurious cars and clothes and sent them on exclusive vacations. You would buy them a plot of land with a beautiful home built from the ground up if they’d let you, but your parents insist on staying where they’re familiar.

An old childhood friend’s having a get-together. Your mother insists you go—this is the perfect opportunity for you to network and possibly find a future husband. Despite your protests, she pressures you, and you begrudgingly agree.

You stick out like a sore thumb, donned in expensive fabrics at the party. Years of being an assassin and seductress have given you the gift of gab, so you’re the life of the party. Eventually, people start inquiring about your love life. Their questions become so invasive you step out momentarily to gather yourself. Just because you’re good at flapping your gums doesn’t mean you don’t occasionally become overwhelmed.

You decide to text Sylus to help ease your anxiety. You text each other quite often, and someone peering at your relationship from the outside would assume you’re just close friends.

[ Sylus ]: that bad?

[ You ]: yeah. they won’t stop asking when i’ll get married.

[ You ]: it’s really pissing me off.

[ Sylus ]: lol

[ Sylus ]: well why dont you leave?

[ You ]: because i know i’ll never hear the end of it.

[ Sylus ]: hmm.

[ Sylus ]: would you like some company then?

[ You ]: 😏😏😏 what are you gonna teleport here or something?

[ Sylus ]: look up.

On cue, you glance skyward as the telltale shadow of a crow circles the ground around you. You squint your eyes against the sun’s brilliance, making out distinct iridescent feathers circling above. “Mephisto?” you suspiciously inquire.

You look down, only to be met with a familiar swatch of scarlet and white. “Sylus?!” you shriek, jumping back and clutching your pounding heart, almost having shit yourself.

He wears that customary smirk, looking so cool with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He wears a tailored, dark suit, his blazer hanging off his shoulders, ruffled by the summery breeze. “In the flesh.”

You swallow against the stickiness of your throat, wide-eyed and feeling like you’re dreaming. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Sylus examines his nails, his tone conspiratorial. “Well, I was just passing through—”

“Like hell you were!” You aim an accusatory finger at him. “We’re, like, 1,700 miles from the N109! There’s no way you’re just ‘passing through’!”

He shrugs, feigning innocence.

A few of your high schoolmates, summoned by the commotion, gather in the courtyard behind you. The crowd oohs and ahs, whispering as they study your tall, devastatingly handsome boss. One of the women asks who he is, admiration evident in his voice. You know that tone too well: if you don’t claim him, I will.

You swallow your resolve, seizing the opportunity to shut everyone up.

You sidle up to your boss with a fake smile, encircling one of his arms with both of yours, your hands wrapped around his impressive bicep. You cling to him, playing up the theatrics of a docile girlfriend. It makes you sick.

Sylus smiles down at you in your peripheral, the omniscient lift of his brow letting you know that he’s never going to let you live down what next comes from your mouth.

“This is my fiancé!” You pat his chest with a giggle pinched from your lungs, cold dread dropping into your belly.

What the hell are you even doing?

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #just musing #because i waste my days watching c and k-dramas #good ol' pretending to be together only to end up being together trope

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thollandsgirl2013 · 15 days ago

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𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐩𝐚 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐤

Parings → Peter Parker x Stark! Reader

Warnings → fluff

Summary → At Tony's birthday, you reveal your pregnancy, leading to mixed reactions.

You and Peter were on your way to the compound, your nerves making the drive feel like an eternity. Peter was gripping the steering wheel too tight, his knuckles white with anxiety.

"I'm telling you, he's gonna kill me," Peter said, his voice trembling. "He’ll blast me off Earth, and I’ll never see my kid."

"Peter, stop being such a drama queen," you said, trying to keep the mood light. "Dad loves you."

"I’m serious, babe!" Peter's eyes darted around the road as if he was expecting an Avengers-level attack at any moment. "He won’t be happy that I made his daughter pregnant."

"We're married, Peter," you reminded him with a teasing smile.

"I KNOW!" Peter practically shouted, his stress palpable. "But it’s Tony Stark we’re talking about! He’s a genius billionaire with a high-tech suit. I don’t even have a suit like him!"

You chuckled, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "Relax. It’s going to be fine. Besides, you’re not just telling him you’re going to be a dad—you’re giving him a grandkid. He’ll love it."

Peter gulped. "I hope so."

As you pulled into the compound’s driveway, you could see your dad’s birthday party in full swing. The decorations were up, and everyone was mingling. Tony, Pepper, and Morgan were surrounded by the Avengers, with Happy looking over the festivities with his usual vigilance.

You and Peter walked in, and Morgan immediately ran over to hug you. “Y/n!” She squealed, her excitement almost palpable.

“Hey, Morgan!” You replied, giving her a big hug. “Happy birthday to Dad, huh?” You said while looking around the exaggerated decorations.

“Yeah.” Morgan chuckled.

Peter fidgeted beside you, his hands twisting together as his eyes darted around nervously. It was almost comical how out of sorts he seemed, like he was bracing himself for an impending disaster.

“Pete, you look like you’re about to face Thanos again,” Tony quipped, striding over with that signature smirk of his. He clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder, then turned his attention to you. “Hey, kiddo.” His tone softened as he pulled you into a quick hug.

You smiled, trying to sound nonchalant despite your own nerves bubbling under the surface. “Just a little something,” you said, holding out the neatly wrapped box. “Happy birthday, Dad.”

“Oh, honey, you didn’t have to,” Tony said, his lips curling into a grin as he took the box from your hands. “But you know I love gifts.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his predictable response. “I figured,” you said, crossing your arms playfully. “But this one’s actually from the both of us.”

Tony glanced at Peter, who offered a sheepish smile. “Yeah, uh, we both worked on it,” Peter mumbled, his nervousness still evident.

Tony’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he held up the gift. “Well then, let’s see what brilliance you two have cooked up.”

If only he knew.

_____

Dinner was served, and despite the delicious food and lively conversation, Peter couldn’t seem to relax. He kept playing with his fork and glancing at the clock, as if hoping time would slow down or speed up.

Finally, it was time for the presents. You exchanged knowing glances with Peter and headed over to where Tony was opening gifts.

“Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here,” Tony said, grabbing your gift first, tearing into the wrapping paper with his usual flair. When he pulled out the onesie with "The Best Grandpa's Grandkid" printed on it, his face registered confusion for a moment.

Everyone else was busy chatting with each other, but you watched Tony’s reaction closely. As the realization hit, his eyes widened, and a huge smile spread across his face.

“This is… this is…” Tony started, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. “I’m going to be a grandpa?” Everyone's attention was on you and Tony now.

"Happy Birthday, dad."

All the avengers started congratulating you. Natasha was the first to approach you. She enveloped you in a warm hug. “You’re going to be the best mom,” she said with a sincere smile.

Wanda joined in, her own hug equally comforting. “You and Peter are going to be amazing parents.”

You felt a lump in your throat as their kindness washed over you. “Thanks, guys. It means a lot.”

Pepper smiled at the display of support and stepped over to you, her eyes glistening slightly. She kissed your forehead gently. “Oh, honey, you grew up so fast.”

Sam and Bucky, who had been watching the whole interaction with smirks on their faces, couldn’t resist a bit of teasing. Sam clapped Peter on the back hard and said, “Looks like the kid’s having a kid.”

Bucky chuckled, adding, “Guess we’ll have to start calling you ‘Spider-Dad’ now, Parker.”

Peter laughed nervously, his face still a bit pale. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Steve approached, giving Peter a reassuring pat on the back. “You’ll do great, Pete. You’ve got this.”

Tony looked at you with a mixture of pride and nostalgia. “My little girl is going to be a mom,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “You grew up so fast, Y/n.”

He pulled you into a tight embrace, his tears betraying the emotions he was trying to keep in check. “I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, kissing your forehead.

As Tony pulled back from the hug, his gaze shifted to Peter. Peter’s face went pale. He had a brief moment of relief as he saw Tony’s smile, but it quickly turned into a look of terror as Tony’s expression shifted.

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Peter, the smile gone. “How dare you make my little girl pregnant!”

“Dad,” you said, trying to keep your tone calm, “let’s not start with this.”

“Um, Tony, sir, I-I can explain,” Peter stammered, his face turning red.

“Tony, honey, calm down,” Pepper said, stepping in with a soothing voice.

“Oh, I’m calm, Pep,” Tony said through gritted teeth. “But Parker’s gonna die tonight.”

Peter’s eyes were wide as he looked to you for help. “Y/n, say something!”

“Dad,” you said, stepping in between Tony and Peter. “Do you want your grandchild to be fatherless?”

Tony huffed, looking between you and Peter. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But only because I don’t want to be a grandpa to a kid without a father. Parker, you better take care of my little girl or so help me—”

“I will!” Peter interrupted, trying to sound as earnest as possible. “I promise, Mr. Stark, I’ll do everything I can.”

“Dad, relax,” you interjected, stepping between Tony and Peter. “Peter’s going to be a great dad. He loves me, and he’s going to love our baby.”

Tony’s face softened a little, but his protective instincts were still on high alert. “Alright, alright. Just… make sure you keep my little girl happy. And don’t mess this up.”

Peter nodded vigorously, his eyes wide. “I promise. I’ll do everything I can.”

“You better.”

Everyone else, who had been watching the scene with a mix of amusement and concern, slowly started to relax as Tony’s anger subsided. Morgan ran over to Peter and hugged him tightly.

“You’re going to be the best dad ever!” She declared.

Peter looked at Morgan, his eyes misty. “Thanks, kid.”

Happy came over and slapped Peter on the back, almost knocking him over. “Welcome to the family, kid. If you need any help with the whole ‘being a dad’ thing, let me know.”

Peter managed a shaky laugh. “I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”

Pepper wrapped her arms around Tony, giving him a gentle squeeze. “See? It’s going to be alright.”

Tony took a deep breath, finally letting go of some of his tension. “Yeah, alright. I guess I’m just going to have to get used to this.”

The rest of the evening was filled with congratulations and warm wishes. Tony seemed to be in a much better mood as he began to accept the news. The whole party eventually gathered around, with everyone offering their support and excitement.

As the night went down, you and Peter found a quiet corner of the compound, away from the hustle and bustle of the party.

“See?” You said, wrapping your arms around him. “That wasn’t so bad.”

Peter let out a sigh of relief. “Yeah, it actually went better than I thought it would.”

“Now we just have to get used to the idea of being parents,” you said with a smile.

Peter grinned, his anxiety replaced by excitement. “Yeah, I think we can handle that.”

You both stood there, imagining the future and the new life that was growing inside you. It was a perfect end to an eventful day, with love, laughter, and a new chapter about to begin.

‎∗ ࣪ ˖༺ 𓆩☆𓆪 ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker spiderman #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #tomholland2013 #tom holland #thollandsgirl2013 #tom holland spiderman #tom holland fanfiction #spider man

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classofo9theflipsideremake · 3 months ago

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Class of 09: The Flipside: Rewrite

Hey everyone! I’m a huge fan of Class of ‘09 and I’ve been thinking about how amazing the game could be with a bit of a revamp, especially after the direction the third game took. While I love the dark humor and over-the-top tone of the original, I feel like the third game didn’t really hit the mark for me (and I’m sure a lot of you feel the same way). So I’ve been working on an idea for a rewrite/remake, but with a fresh twist—turning it into an interactive YouTube series while keeping the same spirit and dark humor that made the first game so iconic.

Plot Overview:

The story would pick up after the Graduation ending, with Jecka as the main character. She’s been desperately trying to find a university that will accept her, not because she cares about school, but because (in her words), “I’m too fucking hot to work in a fast food restaurant, Nicole!” She calls Nicole at 3 AM, and together they find a “cool” fashion university.

It turns out Jecka has secretly loved fashion for years and even draws her own outfits every Wednesday when she barely talks to anyone—even Nicole! Most of the game would follow her experiences trying to survive at the fashion university, dealing with new classmates and the ridiculous world of high fashion.

While the cast is mostly new, Nicole, Ari, and Jeffrey all return:

Ari is now a confident head of the city Pride Parade and got into the university because of her work designing outfits for the parade.

Jeffrey is much less weird—he’s still into manga and anime, but his focus is on design and improving his art. He got into the university because his anime character designs have great anatomy.

Nicole got in by tracing Jecka’s work (I don't wanna get murdered by the fandom so I had to sneak her in the University SOMEHOW).

What Makes It Different:

Same Dark Humor: I want to keep the sharp one-liners and edgy humor from the first game. Think along the lines of the famous "I feel" conversation from the Nicole x Ari ending.

Character Growth: Jecka gets more depth, especially with her secret passion for fashion. Nicole will still be chaotic, but she’ll face new challenges trying to survive at a university where she doesn’t belong.

New Characters: Jecka’s new classmates would bring fresh dynamics and humor. Some could be rivals, others potential new friends.

5 Endings: I’ve outlined five endings, with a mix of success, rivalry, and even failure, all with the same darkly comedic twists that Class of '09 is known for.

Why Interactive YouTube?

I think the interactive YouTube format would be a cool way to bring this story to life. Viewers could make choices for Jecka and Nicole, leading to different outcomes—kind of like the original game but with the visual and comedic flair of a YouTube series. I’m aiming to create something that feels like it could be an official continuation, with all the humor, drama, and ridiculousness we love from the first game.

I’d love to hear your thoughts! Does this idea sound like something you’d watch? Any suggestions for what you'd want to see from a Class of ‘09 remake? Let me know!!!

#class of 09 #class of 09 the flip side #jecka class of 09 #nicole class of 09 #ari class of 09 #jeffrey class of 09 #rewrite #indiedev

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itacats · 21 days ago

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Butcher Shop Connection - FINALE

FT: Simon x gn!reader

Warnings: DV, abuse, ex breaking into house, please let me know if anything else should be here!🙏

SUM: Years after overcoming loss, you find peace with Simon, your steady support. When Tom, a figure from your past, returns, Simon defends you, subduing Tom and reaffirming his commitment. You, now free from fear, embrace a future with Simon, built on trust and love.

A/N: And there you have it, folks—our heartfelt drama meets its fist-throwing, police-siren-climax conclusion! 😌💥 Who knew Simon had such a flair for multitasking—protecting, loving, AND taking out the trash (literally)? To everyone who's been here since the beginning: you're the real MVPs. And if you're just here for Simon's jawline and knuckle-dusting heroics…same. Same. 💖✨

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 - Promises Kept

Years Later…

The sun lingers low in the sky, casting its warm, golden light across the familiar street that has witnessed so many of your life’s milestones. A soft breeze rustles the leaves of the trees that line the pavement, the world quietly turning. You stand at the window, the worn ceramic of your coffee mug nestled in your hands, its warmth a comforting companion to the chill of the evening air. It's been years since Tom was taken from your life, yet the shadows of those days still hover just beneath the surface of your thoughts, unwelcome but persistent. You’ve found peace in the time that has passed, but it hasn’t come without its cost—time, after all, is the only healer that requires you to face the wounds it leaves behind.

The sound of the doorbell interrupts your reverie, and with it comes a rush of anxious energy, the sharp reminder that some echoes of the past never quite fade. You take a steadying breath, knowing it’s just Simon, and yet the instinctive surge of anxiety still clutches at your chest. You open the door, and there he is—Simon, standing tall in the late afternoon light, with that grin of his that has always made you feel like everything might just be alright. His dark hair is slightly tousled, his broad shoulders relaxed but still carrying the weight of every promise he’s made to you.

"Ready for our road trip?" he asks, his voice low and teasing, a familiar spark of mischief in his eyes. He brushes a stray lock of hair from your face, the touch gentle, like he’s always known exactly how to calm the storm within you.

You can’t help but smile back, feeling the flicker of joy beneath your ribs. "Let’s do it," you reply, the weight of years of struggle, loss, and fear dissolving just for a moment, leaving behind only the warmth of his presence.

Simon has been a quiet anchor in your life, a steady presence that has filled the emptiness Tom left behind. His laughter has become a balm for the deep scars, and his quiet moments—those fleeting seconds where nothing is said, only felt—have slowly woven themselves into the fabric of your heart.

The following morning from your much needed roadtrip brings with it a chill that brushes against your skin like an unwelcome reminder of colder days. The familiar routine of your day is like any other—until you walk toward your car and find it refusing to start. Your hand turns the key in frustration, but the engine just sputters, its refusal an unwelcome reminder of how even the smallest of setbacks can stir the seeds of anxiety.

You lean against the hood, a heavy sigh slipping from your lips, when you hear Simon’s voice. “Stubborn old thing, isn’t she?” he calls out, his truck rumbling behind him, the engine running smoothly as always.

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you mutter, kicking the tire in mock frustration, the playful energy returning with his presence.

Simon chuckles, a sound that fills the space between you both with warmth. "I’ll let you borrow my trusty steed. It’s just begging to be taken for a spin." His grin is wide and easy, his eyes shining with that same lighthearted mischief that always manages to break through the tension.

You laugh and nod, grateful for his offer. As he bends down to hand you the keys, his lips brush against your cheek in a soft, lingering kiss, a gesture that still sends warmth blossoming across your skin. He waves as he heads back toward the house, and you stand there for a moment, the weight of his affection settling into the marrow of your bones. For a fleeting second, you feel a strange contentment—a quiet peace that, for now, erases the anxieties that have clung to you for years.

The day trudges on, as days often do, and by the time the evening wraps its cool fingers around the sky, you find yourself weary, your bones heavy with the fatigue of living. You expect Simon to be there when you get home—waiting with dinner, or a book, or maybe just curled up on the couch ready to watch one of your favorite movies. But tonight, something feels off. The lights are dim, the atmosphere heavy with an unspoken tension that coils in the corners of the room.

And then you see it—the unmistakable shape of Tom’s car parked outside. The sight of it sends a jolt through your chest, a cold wave of panic crashing into the calm you’d fought so hard to build. Tom is back.

For a moment, your world tilts on its axis, a dizzying blend of fear and dread. What if he’s here for you-or worse-Simon? What if he wants to finish what he started all those years ago?

Inside the House

The door slams open, the sound sharp and final in the stillness of the house.

Tom steps into view like a shadow from the past, his presence heavy with menace. His eyes glint with the same malicious energy that you remember so well, the anger in them simmering like a pot about to boil over. Your heart races as you backpedal, moving swiftly toward the back of the house, your mind whirling with options.

You find Simon in the kitchen, every muscle in his body tense, his eyes locked on the doorway as if waiting for the storm to break. The silence is broken by Tom’s voice—grating, laced with venom. "I always knew you were a coward," he sneers at Simon. "You can’t protect them forever."

Simon’s posture stiffens, his hands curling into fists. He’s not the same person he was when he first entered your life. The boy who once faltered under the weight of his own fears has been replaced by a man who will do anything to protect what’s his.

“I promised…” Simon growls, his voice low and dangerous, a quiet fury pulsing through each word. He’s not scared anymore. He’s not the boy who had no choice but to endure. Now, he’s a man who stands tall in the face of any threat.

Tom lunges, but Simon is faster, his movements fluid and precise. With a single, sharp pivot, Simon blocks Tom’s advance, his fist connecting with Tom’s jaw in a sickening crack that reverberates through the room.

Your head swirls with memories of the past, faded scars feel fresh, but after you come back to reality you rush into the kitchen, your breath catching in your throat as you see the scene before you. Tom, unconscious, slumped in a chair, his hands bound tightly with a cord from a nearby table lamp. Simon stands over him, his fists bloodied but his stance unwavering, his eyes fierce with the same protective resolve that has kept you safe all these years.

“Simon!” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper.

For a heartbeat, time seems to stand still. Simon looks at you, his expression a mixture of rage and regret, his breath coming in short bursts as he wipes the blood from his knuckles. “I promised,” he says softly, his voice carrying the weight of every sacrifice he’s ever made. “That I would protect you. And I intend to keep that damn promise.”

Before you can process the words, the wail of sirens pierces the air, growing louder until the officers burst into the house. The sight of them seems almost surreal—too much, too fast. You stand there, frozen, as they quickly take in the scene, their eyes flicking from Simon to Tom and back again.

Soon, Tom is being led away in handcuffs, his face contorted with fury, his pride shattered but his anger never once dimming. The reality of what just transpired begins to settle in, and you feel a wave of disbelief wash over you.

The house falls quiet once the police have gone, the weight of the night’s events pressing down on your chest. You find Simon sitting beside the kitchen table, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, his breath still ragged from the confrontation. You move toward him, your heart aching for him in a way that words could never fully capture.

“I’m sorry…” he whispers, his voice thick with something you can’t quite place—regret, perhaps, or maybe just the remnants of fear. He doesn’t need to say more.

You take his hand, the calluses on his palm familiar and comforting, and shake your head. “You protected me,” you murmur, the truth of those words resonating in every fiber of your being.

His eyes meet yours, and in them, you see the depth of his devotion. “You are my world,” he admits softly, pulling you close, and for the first time in years, you allow yourself to believe it.

In the days that follow, the world begins to feel lighter, the weight of the past easing with each passing moment. Together, you and Simon rebuild what was broken, finding strength in one another. You are no longer defined by the shadows that once haunted you; instead, you are shaped by the love and protection that Simon has given you, and the life that you both will now create, free from fear, free from the wreckage of the past.

And for the first time in years, you look toward the future with hope—a future built on trust, on promises kept, and on the quiet understanding that, no matter what, you’ll always have each other.

Tag List:

@jessicab1991

@hotaruteba

@daydreamerwoah

@angelic-thingys

@alessias-art

@lilynotdilly

@secretsideofbree

Here's the current post schedule with some upcoming stories to look forward to!

#bt extra #call of duty #fanfic #cod fic #cod #simon ghost riley #gn reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #butcher!ghost #butcher!simon #butcher shop connection

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revalition · 3 months ago

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OCT 8 - VOLITION

Hold yourself together. Keep your Morale up.

I had to resize this image 3 times to get tumblr to take it... it is also past midnight here, but the day change doesn't really count if I haven't gone to sleep yet, so :)

Volition. My love. my favourite skill. please enjoy. I also drew the volitions of some of my mutuals!! because I love you guys and your volitions very much (holding them gently in my hands). hopefully you guys dont mind and I didn't mess them up too badly

anyway. uhm. I'm much too tired to write anything super coherent right now. please write tags for me or write comments so I can see them when I wake up haha

and! there is a LOT under the cut. like, way more than any of the other days. it is giant. be very careful expanding it <3

ok here goes... I'm typing shorter ones out and screenshotting big ones

--------

VOLITION - Stop, you're only making it worse for him -- you never help with *anything*.

- Rare volition being rude to other skills!!! it only happens under pressure, too

KIM KITSURAGI - "What else could she have done? Lie? She saw there was no way to lie and get away with it."

DRAMA - You would have caught it.

VOLITION - Like hell you would have -- remember?

- you tell him volition!!

SUGGESTION - What is *wrong* with you? Why did you ask to be connected to her? Who *does* that?! Act professional now.

VOLITION - *You* told him to do that stupid thing...

- rare volition callout!!

YOU - Can I trust that guy?

VOLITION - A little. They're all still of limited use, interpreting things to the best of their ability. Maybe they add flair or something? I wouldn't know. I don't add flair.

- this is one of my favs haha. you don't need flair, love, it's ok

VOLITION - Ouch.... That's like twenty points of pride-damage right there, buddy.

- This is after Sylvie turns you down to get coffee. (and you do suffer a point of morale damage haha). him calling you buddy is so funny. it's always mildly condescending too!

- here's the other two:

VOLITION - You're no titan of Volition, buddy. He's got you in a fork. Sit down or leave.

VOLITION - You're a little more moralist now, buddy. A little more *normal*. Even if you didn't want to be.

YOU - "Cryptid extravaganza? I like the sound of that."

KIM KITSURAGI - "And I *don't*. Just one."

VOLITION - Or he'll be *disappointed* in you.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Whooh... tough choice there.

- volition knows it's truly the most terrible thing haha

VOLITION - An enormous expenditure of willpower to build up strategic semen reserves? You had me at *willpower*. Let's do it!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Life is all about pleasure... why deny it?!

- these two are hilarious. poor echem. but also volition, honey, nono...

- the game implies consequences when increasing your skills too high but you don't see it with all of them. Volition's one you don't really see much downside to, but you can just. Imagine it here. Him pressuring you to do something stupid, just for the sake of it being difficult. Surely that's not healthy??

- I do think Volition has a lot of issues. I'll get into some more of them later though!!

- but just... Harry wanting to do something that *is* a test of willpower and Volition is completely uninterested. But the semen retention thing is okay? sigh

- and then after that, he's just like. nope. we're not going to not swear :)

- he's so stupid sometimes. also it's absolutely hilarious to me that you can pick the "..." option over and over and Volition will match it forever. You simply cannot out-will your own willpower. It's just not possible.

- I actually live for Volition being the singular voice of reason. Look at the others all chiming in!!

- this one too, Volition being the only one trying to stop it! Why are they all piling on?? Composure not you too >:(

- I had excessively high Volition *and* Pain Threshold in my first run and the two of them!!! PT gets very self destructive at high levels, so seeing the relentless push and pull of PT and Volition was so good.

- This line from the description -> "Cool for: Sane People, Well-Adjusted Cops, The Non-Suicidal" yes it's cool for them, sure, but it's incredibly!!! important for NOT these people! Because Volition doesn't make you sane, or well-adjusted, or non-suicidal. He's just the one voice of reason in there trying to veer you away from making irreversibly bad decisions.

VOLITION - She tries to hide it, but some *great doubt* is spreading within her. There is a crown slowly cracking above her head.

- I need to talk about this line. Just. Volition acknowledging the existence of Joyce's own Volition (which he refers to as a crown!!!) cracking! the *great doubt* spreading and cracking apart the crown! hghh I live for any and every depiction of volition cracking apart when morale gets low and this is absolutely one of them.

AUTHORITY - Weren't you warned to *not* go down this path?! And yet you *still* go and do it...

VOLITION - Just because you *can* doesn't mean you *have to* say everything that comes to mind. Back out before the situation escalates.

- these two's dynamic is very funny to me. I love when they work together (but I also love when they fight! fight fight fight!)

VOLITION - Don't ask, don't look, don't do *anything* here. Just go away. Get back to work.

- "Just go away" ugh my guy is fighting for his life here to get you away from the cigarette and alcohol counter in the Frittte

- hghhk Volition. this is a Challenging passive check too (the second one, to hang up). *one* chance, that's all he has in him. It's not possible at all in the dream, no matter how high your Volition stat is. It's just not something he can do. But here, with the distance of the payphone between you and possibly real consequences, he's able to manage one chance.

- (also did anyone see the post about the payphone conversation possibly being entroponetic crosstalk?? I could talk about that for way too long. but I am getting sidetracked)

YOU - "Yeah, I'm done talking about her. I don't want to think about her anymore."

RHETORIC - What a strange choice of words...

EMPATHY - Caustic, overflowing with negativity.

VOLITION - That can't be healthy. What's happening here? Why do you keep coming back to this window?

YOU - Nothing, everything's okay.

VOLITION - But it isn't. And you shouldn't come back to this anymore. This should be the last time. Stop talking about that damn window, please.

- this one too

VOLITION - Throw it away. Please.

- I need to talk about this. Volition dutifully directs you away from all the reminders of Dora. He does everything in his power to stop the final dream from happening.

- And I get it. He's trying to protect Harry. Because Harry isn't mentally stable right now and it could endanger the case. but... at least, when the final dream happens Kim is (usually) there when you wake up. And if all went well, you get to go back to your precinct, and take Kim with you. And Harry has support.

- If the dream doesn't happen... it will happen eventually. There are a million reminders in Martinaise in the span of a week, imagine what Jamrock is like. It's an inevitability. And then you're taking the chance that the dream happens at a time when Harry is much worse off. Maybe he's alone. Maybe Kim left, maybe he was let go from the force.

- The dream could happen at a better time too, of course. we probably all imagine harry picking up the pieces after martinaise and his life finally taking a turn for the better. and I imagine this is what Volition had in mind, by delaying the dream. Maybe it can be delayed for a long time, long enough.

- but it's a huge risk and I just... don't know if he's making the right choice here. keeping important information about Harry's past, which has shaped his relationships and life considerably, in a box so it can't hurt him

- yeah. anyway...

YOU - What if I don't want to ask questions?

REACTION SPEED - You're a cop, Harry. It is *unnatural* of you not to want to ask questions.

VOLITION - You don't have to. No one is forcing you to be a cop.

- Volition??? sometimes this guy makes no sense, he's so funny. I really think he occasionally just does something for the sake of being defiant

EGG HEAD - "Please. Please?" The young man smiles at you widely, bright and innocent as the summer sun.

VOLITION - His pleaful smile is disarming, but you can withstand it's glorious assault, if you just put your heart into it.

- why? why?? don't turn down egg head ever!

VOLITION - Alright, come on now. If *he* hasn't said anything about your lack of pants, no one will. You're only hurting yourself by not wearing them...

- this one is so funny. I love that he lets you know he *knows* you're trying to get a reaction and you're not going to get one!!

- yes volition, stop himmm

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - How very astute of you! This renders it ineffectual. You should look for a *whole* cigarette. Or better yet -- an entire pack! Strike that, a CARTON! Make sure they're all healthy and able-bodied, then smoke them all.

VOLITION - Or -- you could *not* do that. No one is making you.

- volition as usual trying to stop you from picking up bad habits... I just love the way he talks. he's not even telling you not to, just voicing his disapproval in a rather passive way

INTERFACING - Wow, the gods of mass production have made this alcohol container *laughably* easy to open. A child could have done it.

VOLITION - I don't know about this...

- he still doesn't outright tell you not to drink it... :(((

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Fine. We're not worried... you'll crawl back to this bottle soon enough. We'll give you another chance. Booze *always* gives you *another* chance.

SUGGESTION - Yes, it's *merciful* that way. It's your friend. Come back to it, we're all rooting for you to.

VOLITION - Not *all* of us...

- he's the only one rooting for you to not drink it!! he can't stop you. but he is supporting you in the only way he's able.

VOLITION - No. You *can* stop. Just wade through the hell. Month after month. Year after year -- you against the nothingness. It's possible, because *time* is possible.

- He can encourage you!!

YOU - "I *will* stop drinking."

MEASUREHEAD - "THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE. THE GAME OF *SHAH-MAT* YOU PLAY AGAINST THE GUL'S TRICKS IS UNWINNABLE. THE DAYS, THE WEEKS, THE MONTHS WILL WEAR YOU OUT. THE OCCIDENTAL HAPLOGROUP IS INCAPABLE OF LONG TERM LUCID THOUGHT."

VOLITION - NO.

- volition!!! <3 that's all he needs to say.

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - This is it. I'm gonna hit the ground and burn away now. Most of the people in this yard are gonna die -- if not all. Probably you too. It's a COMPLETE DISASTER.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Get ready for a world of pain, man.

VOLITION - No. Not a disaster. Weave this into the story of you. Walk out of its *ruins*. Save those who still can be saved -- *I'm* on your side.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - And the lieutenant too. And the men behind your back, drawing their weapons... you can live. You can get out of this.

- hnngh. this one is among my favourites too. my amazing 1 int run also had 1 motorics. at this point I had failed the rhetoric check to save ruby, failed the logic check to save lizzie, and now failed the spirit bomb throw too and was about ready to cry. Volition's quiet reassurance was very important to me in that moment. EdC too, and I did save Kim.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Your hand trembles as you scratch at your cheek... oh no, that's not how a grown man shaves!

YOU - Leave it for now.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Thank god, I would have cut your throat.

VOLITION - The centipede is exaggerating -- people don't actually cut their own throats when they're shaving. At least not accidentally.

- centipede!!! it's such a funny nickname. alternatively

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Your hand trembles as you scratch at your cheek... oh no, that's not how a grown man shaves!

YOU - This isn't sharp enough. Scrape harder.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Stop, for crying out loud! You're gonna cut your own throat.

VOLITION - There's no way to salvage this.

- these guys are hilarious. why is volition even watching this mess? 'there's no way to salvage this.' ??? I'm not even sure if he's referring to you or H/E... he must be so tired.

ENDURANCE - You feel like you're about to faint and fall off the swing. Your hands get clammy and the air tastes sour to breathe.

HALF LIGHT - Oh god, Harry! Oh god, Harry, what did you do...?!

VOLITION - No! Just nope. Say no to this, Harry.

- more of this!! >:( of volition trying to just avoid anything painful. wake up man.

LOGIC - Everything is so pretty and red -- you and Leo look like brothers as you glance around with similar childlike wonder.

VOLITION - Keep it together, no need to show your wonder.

- why? :( it's not hurting anyone. legendary difficulty passive for volition, high levels of volition are sometimes questionable. I love collecting all these instances of volition making weird suggestions. it's like when people point out really weird things Kim does, that you don't really notice as weird because he does it so calmly and confidently.

VOLITION - Huh... no, Mr. Conclusion. You're always kind of limited in your analytical abilities. That's not *her* fault. But still...

- volition: you're kind of limited in your analytical abilities... meanwhile logic and viscalc and ency calling you stupid and brain damaged lol. vol is so gentle about it!!

- then again...

VOLITION - ...no? He's not going to show up? I'm sorry, your lie detection isn't working. It's not her doing, he's just totally inept. It looks like you're also an idiot. But that's not her fault.

- lol.

RHETORIC - This is good. Clear the air first -- between you two -- then move on to questions.

VOLITION - No, it's not good. It's the opposite of that. This will let her dictate the terms of your...

RHETORIC - Shush. I can't hear what she's saying.

- no. don't ever cut off or shush volition ever again

- >:(

YOU - No-no-no-no...

INLAND EMPIRE - Yes, yes, yes, yes.

VOLITION - No-no, we're not starting with that. Not now. Not this time. This thought is over.

- volitionnnn... ily. my own volition also cuts off dangerous lines of thought for me. I think he's got to be constantly vigilant, in order to be so good at it. must be exhausting :(

YOU - "Can't promise that. I might attack him again." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant groans, but doesn't say anything.

VOLITION - That's right, you *should* do it again! It's the *last* thing he'll be expecting.

- uhm. not sure that's a good idea!!

VOLITION - You're too weak to say 'no' now. Waking up is the worst part. Maybe somewhere down the line you could decline...

- referring to declining the speed. all volition fails are very sad

VOLITION - Yes, look at yourself. What do you see?

YOU - Just a sorry stack of shit...

VOLITION - Yeah, didn't even know they stack shit *that* sorry.

- beautiful, rare volition scolding you!!!! after you disregard his advice and don't apologize to kim after the church fail. he's on your side, but he also knows he needs to tell you that this wasn't okay.

VOLITION - First the investigation, now this... how many more things do you have to fuck up?

- this one too! same scenario. this is a difficulty 16 (Godly) check...

- yes this again. it just needs to be in here. the volition panic attack. if this volition passive doesn't fire, you take no volition damage. it's completely self-inflicted :(((

PAYPHONE - The headset lands in the cradle with a clank. There it sits -- still warm from your hand. You have no idea what just happened.

(heal 2 endurance and 2 volition)

- if you hang up the phone before dora picks up!

VOLITION - He subdues the feeling. Dusts himself off and moves on. So should you. There will be other chances.

(heal 2 volition)

- if Kim misses getting a picture of the phasmid

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - The necktie is guiding you through this. It's your spirit animal, both your nemesis and friend. Suddenly a feeling of ease brushes through you -- you're fine again.

(heal 2 volition and 1 endurance)

AUTHORITY - That... was the most honourable thing anyone has ever done, Harry.

(heal all volition)

- very special incidences of healing more than 1 volition at once!! the fact that healing/damaging morale is just directly called heal/damage volition in the variable naming is. yeah. I think about it constantly. does it hurt him? I think it does. and he never says anything about it (unlike endurance!) he just bears with it quietly.

VOLITION - In honour of your shit, lieutenant-yefreitor. Which you kept *together* in the face of total, unrelenting terror. Day after day. Second by second.

INLAND EMPIRE - DETECTIVE

ESPRIT DE CORPS - ARRIVING

AUTHORITY - ON THE SCENE

- obviously this one has to be in here. funnily enough, in my second playthrough I had 2 PSY but everyone had been bumped up enough that they all fired except authority... I ended up throwing a point into authority and retrying the dialogue so it could be complete haha

VOLITION - What? I thought you had your shit together! This is nearing a complete meltdown! Stop it!

- volitionnn :( if you don't stop you have a panic attack, so I guess he's only trying to help

- this is too funny. volition honey, you absolutely do add flair too

YOU - Oh, you mean Cuno?

VOLITION - Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

- yup, absolutely no flair. Super. Tip-top!

VOLITION - These guys are compromised. She's got them singing along to her tune. The little bleeps and bloops you trust for info -- you can't trust them anymore.

- it would be a crime to not include the bleeps and bloops in here! why does he call them that?? haha

- rare instance of volition not being able to stop the disaster!

INLAND EMPIRE - Your surroundings are undisturbed. While you slept, you were alone. Now that you're awake -- you're still alone.

HALF LIGHT - Get the fuck out of here. Fuck this place, fuck this world, fuck this life, fuck this body -- just fucking go.

SAVOIR FAIRE - The sheets are stained red. Your blood's been running again. Keep it together. Just get out of here and finish this fucking thing.

VOLITION - Harry... I know there's not much to say -- but if nothing else, just remember that you've made it this far. And it's just a bit farther now. Let's finish this.

- this is just. it's awful, if you have the final dream all alone. but at least you have volition with you

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Dick Mullen was made to crack skulls and solve cases. It's who he is. He could no more stop being a detective than a tiger could cease to be a predator in the night.

VOLITION - You're no tiger, though, Harry. You're a man. It's your curse to have to choose.

- I like this one.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That sugary black rum stain on the counter makes you teary-eyed with joy. It's almost touching how syrupy and sticky it is. How long have you been up already?

YOU - Not now.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Oh *excuse me*, do you have something better to do than lust for sweet syrupy rum and lemonade? With a twist of lemon? Maybe lime? Maybe who cares, just rum?

VOLITION - Yes, you do have something better to do. Stop drooling over that stupid rum stain and go. Before it's too late.

- this is a challenging (difficulty 12) check! it's very difficult to resist the sticky rum stain I guess

YOU - Give up.

LOGIC - There we go. Your mind is a relaxed muscle. It's so nice and easy to give up, isn't it? On the downside -- you have no idea what you were supposed to do now. I could have *debriefed* you.

VOLITION - Blissful idiot -- say something. You've stood there for too long.

- blissful idiot

VOLITION - Don't be an idiot and say it. In this day and age, of all times. It won't end well.

- once again, volition pushing you away from the bi-curious thing. :( he just wants to keep you safe, but it comes at a cost.

- you can't just wrap harry in bubblewrap, volition. he'll never grow

- volition absolutely saving the day here. do NOT say it harry! authority's advice is SO hit or miss

VOLITION - It's time to leave it be. You're about to make a child cry. Are you proud of yourself?

YOU - Damn right I am! Proud as the Lion of Serber.

VOLITION - Excuse me, I'm not sure I heard that properly...

- volition ily. he has to deal with so much.

VOLITION - Should we? He's *nice*. I don't like *nice*.

- this is so funny. he's very suspicious.

VOLITION - Look at it, detective. And be ashamed. Until you make it right by *legally purchasing* that raincoat, I'll make sure you feel guilty every time you see it.

- YES YES conscience volition!!

YOU - Close the carabiner.

SLEEPING DOCKWORKER - The sleeping dockworker has little to say about your actions. He remains silent.

VOLITION - You're not 100% clear what you did here was *right*, but to hell with it...

- only sometimes!!

VOLITION - I can't restrain this one. The need to *cop* is too strong. You just need to ask it.

- why are you trying to restrain copping??? this guy, sometimes. he's so stupid (affectionate)

VOLITION - That's it. I'm calling it. Kim is beyond compromised.

- uhm. volition completely overcompensating with the compromised skills is quite funny. once drama wakes up, he does it too

VOLITION - See? It's oddly moderate. Probably compromised.

- oddly moderate now means compromised??

- this is it. this is volition's only comment on this disastrous authority fail. he makes no attempt to stop it!!

VOLITION - Being Cuno's pig has a steadying effect on your hand. Go with the flow, man...

- volition's so silly sometimes

DAMAGED LEDGER - You feel that thing in the back of your head? That little voice, that quiet scream? You already felt this was a bad idea, but especially right now it's even worse. Try as you might, you can't read it now.

VOLITION - You've got *business* to deal with first. Talk to the Union boss first, at least... I can't stop you for long, but there's just enough of an excuse now.

- Volition fighting for his life to stop you from reading the letter :,(

VOLITION - If it's possible, then by pure willpower alone. You are going to have to become... a psycholocomotor.

- that is *not* a real word but we love you anyway vol

LOGIC - Is that how it is now? We should just try all good things *twice* and then give up? By that logic...

VOLITION - Not you too...

- he's all alone out here :(

VOLITION - Someone's been a very busy boy. Good on you...

- thank you...?

VOLITION - *Very* off. Just let her go. Listen to me for once...

- for once?? :((( but if you try...

VOLITION - I can't help you. I am totally useless. Everything I've said is lies. I want the exact same bad things you want. To stand here, like a pillar of salt, saying...

- this is probably one of the saddest lines. all the skills falling apart in the dream is awful, but volition might be the worst. it's also very important that volition *does* want the exact same thing you want. He wants to drink and smoke and think of dora and die. And he chooses to resist it anyways. To be the only thing standing in your way. But it's to the point where it's all he knows. He knows that he has to resist the things he wants, and will occasionally take it too far. Keeping Harry (and himself) from things that will make them happy. In the setting of the game, Volition keeps things together and on track. But once Harry is back in his normal life, it will become very much a double edged sword I think. Luckily(?) it will self balance a bit, where if Volition prevents Harry from being happy then he'll lose morale, weakening volition, and then vol won't prevent harry as much and it'll balance out. hopefully.

VOLITION - Despair creeps into you, getting fat on your weakness. Whatever noble intentions you once had as a police officer -- it's eating them all up now.

VOLITION - Nothing you can say would make you feel any better now...

- 😭 I hate this, I hate the volition death. the endurance one is really painful too, but this one's painful in a different way. Volition isn't getting back up from this. the awful newspaper clipping saying you go to live under a bridge... that's what happens when you let volition die?? if any of the other skills (except endurance) drop to 0 you can just raise them back up, but vollll.... ugh.

VOLITION - Listen... It's okay to take a few minutes to yourself. Sit down and have a breather.

ENDURANCE - You need to rest. Your body is aching. Getting in here has taken something out of you. Have a seat.

- our two health pool boys encouraging you to take care of yourself <3

YOU - "Kim, can *you* see it?!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can see it."

VOLITION - Four simple words -- thank god. If he can see, then you're not insane.

- this one is obviously very important.

YOU - "I've finally gone insane..." (Put your head in your hands.)

[...]

VOLITION - My god... maybe you *are*.

- if Kim and Cuno aren't there, and your Volition is really low, you get this very sad fail. :(

VOLITION - True, you ought not love ruins and hell -- and the fading scent of apricots.

- I like this one.

WASHERWOMAN - "I *can* wash it for you," she says after looking the jacket over, "but it's going to take about a half an hour. Think you can stay put for that long?"

VOLITION - Hell yeah!

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - No, we must run around ceaselessly. It would be torture to stay put.

- I really really love him.

YOU - "By the way, I'm going to sing karaoke here."

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - "Absolutely out of the question."

VOLITION - You wait and see, cafeteria manager!

- volition will not be told no!!

VOLITION - No one can STOP you from finding the phasmid.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - WHAT IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!?! Are you going to CRY now, son?

VOLITION - You heard the coach! This is weakness. It cannot go on much longer, or you will LOSE.

- these guys are great. coach!

YOU - Right. Activate Denial Mode.

VOLITION - You're not really an automaton, you do know that?

- oh, thank you for the insight volition

- even your most willful, imaginative skills know this scope creep was insurmountable...

DRAMA - But we *are* awake, sire! She has been forthcoming -- with sordid details women usually conceal! Most *shocking* details of the sexual kind! We are a bulwark, un-breached...

VOLITION - You've been breached, bulwark. You've been breached, like, a thousand times now!

- nooo poor drama (volition is right)

- Volition trying to reassure you after the Tribunal is very important.

- SO TRUE.

DRAMA - This may have been a *grave* mistake, sire.

VOLITION - Maybe. Maybe not. Mercy is rarely a *complete* mistake.

- I really adore this quote.

I think I'm going to leave it here. I haven't included some quotes that I put in other posts already but I might add them in later to have a comprehensive Volition post... But I've spent like 4 hours on this already so I'm giving it a rest for now :)

#skilltober #de volition #disco elysium #de skills #rev art

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