#the image of this was just so clear in my head

[mynameismckenziemae]

No Nut November

Part 1 (Part 2 here)

Jake Seresin x Female Reader/You x Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Bradley and Jake decide to partake in No Nut November…without consulting you first. You’re determined to make them cave.

Warnings: Adults (18+) only! MDNI! This work contains: adult language, dirty talk, teasing, talks of ass play/anal, oral (f receiving), a little spanking.

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“You wouldn’t last a week,” Jake chuckles as he leans forward over the green velvet pool table to shoot, “I’ve bunked with you for chrissakes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bradley asks, resting his back against the wall.

The way his eyes heat when they flick to Jake’s jean-clad ass makes your stomach flutter as you drop off the round of beers.

There’s…something going on between them, but you never ask. Just like they know you’re hooking up with both of them, but neither ask you about that either.

“It means,” Jake straightens as he replies, “I’ve heard you rub one out. Like, every night.”

The image his words bring to mind nearly makes you drop the tray. Bradley lying there in the dark, hand shoved inside those boxer briefs, biting his lip to stay quiet as he hurriedly jerks off…

Bradley flushes but appears otherwise unbothered he takes the beer you offer. His eyes are on yours while he replies, “I’ve got a high sex drive.”

God, does he ever. Not once in the countless nights you’ve spent with him over the past year has he only gone one round. Usually, the next morning too, when you wake up to his hard cock pressing against your ass.

“And no self-control apparently,” Jake quips at your back, sliding his fingers down your arm as he reaches around to take one of the bottles.

Bradley rolls his eyes as he takes a long swig, holding the bottle out to you when he’s done. “Will you hold this while I wipe the floor with Bagman, sweetheart?”

“Hangman,” Jake corrects like he does every time.

Bradley winks as he hands you the bottle, knocking his shoulder into Jake’s after he takes the cue from him.

“So,” you say as you turn to watch, leaning back in the spot Bradley vacated before bringing his beer to your lips to steal a drink, “What were you two talking about?”

“No Nut November,” Jake replies, retesting beside you. “A couple of the boys are participating. Bradshaw thinks he could do it no problem.”

“What about you?” You look up day him, “Think you can go a full month without it?”

He licks his lips, taking a drink before meeting your gaze.

“30 days of without your hand,” your nails trail up his arm, goosebumps rising in their wake, “or mine.” He tenses when you lean in to whisper near his ear, “Without my mouth or pussy…”

“Fuck,” he breathes, turning his head. The green in his eyes is hardly visible from his lust-blown pupils. The low din of the bar fades away as he draws closer for a kiss.

“Your turn,” Bradley interrupts, causing you both to jump, “And you say I’m the one with no self-control?”

“Yeah,” Jake pushes off the wall, clearing his throat, “You’re the one who can’t wait to jerk off until his bunkie is asleep,” he turns to look at you with a haughty look, “and yes. I can go 30 days without.”

Your brow arches at the line he just drew.

Game on.

“Fuck off,” Bradley laughs, as Jake tugs the cue from his hand and lines up his shot. “Well instead of going to the bathroom 10 minutes later to do the same thing, you could’ve just said something.”

Jake doesn’t reply, but the way his body stiffens tells you what you need to know.

“That’s what I thought,” Bradley murmurs. His smirk turns to a frown when he takes his beer back that’s now only half full.

Penny catches your eye and back behind the bar you go.

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Even though you don’t hear the rest of the conversation, they both leave shortly after with a bullshit excuse about an early morning hop.

Like that’s ever stopped either of them before.

A few days go by with radio silence. Which is unusual despite the casual situationship you’re in with them both. At least you keep telling yourself it’s casual.

Both Jake and Bradley have made it abundantly clear that they want more from you, but you keep using the excuse that you’re not looking for anything serious right now.

But the truth is, you can’t choose between them.

And how could you? Bradley’s charming, funny, and easy-going nature puts you at ease. His cool confidence carries into the bedroom too, the way he coaxes orgasm after orgasm from your body with his dirty words, his talented tongue, his big hands, and bigger cock…

Then there’s Jake. Sure, he’s a cocky asshole, but that’s the thing you lov-like most about him. The way he teases, overstimulates, pushes your body to the limits, and makes you beg is addicting in itself. But in the quiet after, his well hidden sweet, vulnerable side is revealed with murmured praises and sweet kisses to your trembling skin as he wraps his body around yours.

You don’t reach out either and a full week goes by before you see either of them again.

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“Hey sweetheart,” the sound of Bradley’s voice from behind makes your heart flutter.

“Hey,” you turn, feigning nonchalance as you wipe down the bar, “Long time no see.”

I’ve missed you.

“Yeah,” he sighs, sitting on one of the stools, “it’s been crazy at work.”

“Oh,” you fill a glass with what’s on tap and set it down in front of him, “figured you were avoiding me.”

“Now why would I be avoiding you?” He smiles before he brings the bottle to his lips, eyes twinkling.

“You know why,” you lean over the bar, giving him a nice view of your pushed-up breasts down your shirt as you clean the wood in front of him, “You agreed to No Nut November, didn’t you?”

He’s licking the foam from his mustache, eyes locked on your chest when you straighten, “Huh?”

“You and Jake are doing No Nut November, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” he snaps out of it, giving you a sheepish look, “not the best idea in hindsight.”

“Not really,” you agree, brushing your fingers over his, “I’ve been lonely without you, Roo.”

He exhales shakily at that, giving you a heated look at the name you call him only in bed.

“And it’s only…” you look at the calendar, “November 10th.”

“I know,” he looks pained, “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart, I swear.”

“Yeah, for a whole 30 seconds,” you say sarcastically, “can’t wait.”

“Really?” He deadpans, and you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing, “When have I ever gotten off before you did? The first time doesn’t count.”

That does make you laugh. He’d chased you for months and was excited, a little too excited the first time you finally let him in your pants. But he’d dropped to his knees after and definitely made up for being quick on the draw.

Just the thought of him looking up at you between your thighs with those honey-brown eyes nearly makes you whimper.

“You’re right,” you smile, “other than the first time, you’ve never gotten off before me.”

He smirks as he brings the glass up to his lips again.

“I suppose it’s not like I can’t get myself off either,” you sigh again, “it’s just not the same though. My fingers don’t fill me up the way you do.”

“Fuck sweetheart,” he sputters, “you can’t just say things like that.”

“But it’s true,” you shrug before leaning in to whisper, relishing in the way he tenses, “I ordered that bigger plug we talked about. It came in the mail yesterday.”

“Oh yeah?” He croaks, tilting his head to ghost his lips over your jaw.

He’s been obsessed with your ass since he first saw you. You brought up trying anal after he played with your ass during doggy and it’s something the two of you have been working towards.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I wanted to try it out with you, but I don’t think I can wait that long. I need you, Roo. My fingers, toys��nothing compares to the way your cock feels.”

“Jesus,” he breathes, rising suddenly, “I-I gotta go.”

Your eyes drop and your mouth waters when he reaches for his wallet; his cock is straining against the tight denim.

“I’m sorry,” he grimaces as he throws a 20 on the bar before backing away, “I’ll call you, I promise.”

“Okay,” you shrug as if you couldn’t care less, but your heart races.

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Jake shows up 2 nights later and you barely spare him a glance.

This whole thing is his fault, after all.

He finds you doing inventory in the storage room when there’s a lull in service.

“You mad at me?” He asks, moving your hair aside to kiss the weak spot below your ear.

“No,” you try to keep your voice steady, “I love not hearing from or seeing you for over a week.”

Shit.

You cringe, kicking yourself for letting him see you vulnerable.

He pauses, but only for a moment. “I’m sorry, I’ve been busy with work.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, bending over suddenly to check the bottles of liquor on the lowest shelf, “Me too.”

The new position pushes your ass into Jake’s crotch and his hands instinctively reach for your hips.

“What are you doin’ honey?” He grits out, pulling you back to feel every hard inch of him, “‘sides playing with fire?”

His Texas twang comes out when he’s turned on but you suppress the shiver it brings.

“Inventory,” you reply, straightening to write the number down.

“I miss you,” he whispers, making your heart skip a beat, “and I don’t mean just this,” he finds the sweet spot on your neck again. “But I can’t seem to keep my hands,” his fingers dig into your hips as he ruts against your ass, “or my cock to myself when you’re around.”

“So don’t,” you murmur, turning your head to brush your lips over his, “Please Jake?”

I miss you too.

“I…can’t,” he sighs regretfully, squeezing your hips once more before taking a step back, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“Let me guess, you’ll make it up to me when November’s over?” Your eyes narrow as you face him, crossing your arms.

He cringes. “Well…yeah.”

You sigh. “Not sure if I’ll even need you anymore, I’m getting pretty used to my vibrator.”

He backs you up against the shelving and cages you in with his arms. “Does your toy fill you up the way I can?” He emphasizes his question with a roll of his hips. “Does it make you cum over and over until you’re trembling and tears fill your pretty eyes? Do you have to beg? Say ‘please’ for it to stop?”

“No,” your answer is soft and breathy. His eyes dip to your lips as you lean in, “but it doesn’t neglect me for a month over a stupid competition either.”

You duck under his arm and try not to laugh at his heavy sigh as you walk away.

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Another week goes by. Bradley calls once and they each text randomly but keep things PG, not taking the bait when you send suggestive ones back either. Or send dirty pictures. Jake just sent you a ���🏻 in response to the picture of your hand down the front of your panties and Bradley left you on read when you sent him a photo of your lace-clad bottom, holding the new plug.

No Nut November is more than halfway over but you’re completely over it.

While the night before Thanksgiving is one of the busiest of the year, you took off to finish preparing for the holiday. You’re hosting the Daggers who aren’t going home or don’t have anyone to go home to.

Everything is good to go a little after 9. With a sigh, you begin to pull the apron over your head but pause with an idea.

Wearing nothing but the apron, you take a picture of your reflection; nipples just visible and your hand running up your inner thigh.

You: Everything’s ready for tomorrow. Wanna come over for a taste test?

Next, you turn around, capturing your bare ass and an innocent look.

You: Too bad the turkey is the only thing getting stuffed tonight.

With a sigh you hop in the shower, not realizing you sent the pictures to them both.

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There’s a knock at the front door as you flick off the water.

“Just a second!” You call, wrapping your towel around you tightly.

“It’s Jake,” he calls back, muffled.

“Come in,” you reply. He knows where the spare is, but still knocks out of respect. “I’m just getting out of the shower.”

“What’s up?” You ask as you come out of the bathroom, the pictures already forgotten.

Jake’s leaning against the wall across, waiting.

“I’m here for that taste test,” he hungrily looks over your bare legs as he pushes off the wall.

“What about the bet?” Your breath catches as he weaves his hands into your hair.

“It’s still on,” he answers before capturing your lips in a dizzying kiss.

“But…” you start when he pulls off your lips to find your neck instead, “What are-“

“I’ll take a cold shower after,” he murmurs against the sensitive skin, making you shiver. “I can’t spend another night without yo-making you feel good.”

Your heart stutters at his Freudian slip.

“Okay,” you whisper, leaning back in. Your legs wrap around his waist when he grabs your bare ass and lifts, carrying you into your room before laying you down on the bed, your phone digging into your back.

He rips the towel open as you reach for the phone, tossing it aside without a glance…or noticing that you hit the call button.

“Oh Jake,” you moan loudly, drowning out the sound of Bradley picking up when he doesn’t hesitate to devour you like the starved man he is. Your hands find his hair as he tongues your cunt and tug when he hones in on your clit.

“I’ve missed this sweet pussy,” he sounds as wrecked as you feel as he brings his hand up, pushing two fingers inside you, his hips slowly rutting against the bed, “dreamed about it every fucking night and woke up hard and wanting you every morning.”

“Y-oh,” a needy whine escapes as he curls his fingers against your g-spot, “you poor thing.”

He pulls his fingers out to slap your clit, making you gasp, clenching around nothing. “Don’t be a brat.”

“You could’ve had me,” your fingers tighten in his hair before pulling him back in, “this was your idea.”

Your eyes fall closed and he groans when he puts his mouth on you again. “Stupid fuckin’ idea.”

“Uh-huh,” you agree, panting. “You’re never doing it again. I won’t allow it.”

“What about Roo?”

Your eyes fly open to see him smirking. “W-what about him?”

“Is he allowed to do it again?” He licks a long, slow stripe through your arousal as he waits for your answer.

You swallow thickly, before slowly shaking your head. “Nope.”

He arches his brow but doesn’t reply, instead doubling his efforts. You release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when his tongue slides up to your clit, circling while he pushes his fingers back inside you.

“Yeah,” you whine, tugging his hair and grinding against his face, “that’s-that’s good. Just like that, Jake. Keep going, I’m close.”

Jake just moans as you use him. His hips rutting harder but his mouth and fingers keep the same, sweet rhythm until you’re teetering on the edge of release.

But then he gently sucks your clit into his mouth and that’s all it takes to push you over. Your hands pull his hair as your back arches, legs wrapping around his head as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

A low, guttural groan is ripped from his throat as you writhe against him, the sight, the taste and the sounds of your release proving to be too much.

“Fuck,” he pants, resting his head on your trembling thigh with a grimace, “I just lost.”

“You lo-what?” The ability to think straight left when the first brush of his tongue.

“I just came in my fuckin’ pants,” he sighs, his arms shaking as he lifts himself to his knees. Your eyes drop to the wet spot staining his jeans, “I lost.”

A breathy laugh escapes as your toes run over his still semi-hard cock, “Sorry?”

“No you’re not,” he sighs, his eyes darkening, “but you will be.”

The air is pushed from your lungs as he flips you onto your stomach, slapping your ass so hard tears spring to your eyes.

“Hey!” You scrabble to get away from the assault but his hand between your shoulders pushes you back down, “It’s not my fault! I didn’t even touch you!”

“You didn’t,” he agrees, slapping the other ass cheek equally as hard, “but you did tease me at the bar, and send me dirty pictures and-“

“I won’t tell Roo if you won’t!” You rush out when his hand leaves your ass presumably to spank you again.

“It’s a little late for that.”

Both of your heads whip toward your bedroom door where Bradley’s standing, clad in that gaudy Hawaiian print he wears so well, his erection obvious against the confines of the tight-as-sin jeans.

He also knows where your spare is.

His eyes rake over your naked body, smirking as he holds his phone up for the both of you to see. The color leaves your face as you see your name reflected on the screen.

He’s been listening the whole time.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed part 1! Part 2 should be along in the next few days. Spoiler: the turkey is NOT the only thing getting stuffed 😉

Tagging a few I think may be interested:

@callsigns-haze

@writtingrose

@blindedbythelightt

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@its-the-pilot

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@alwayshave-faith

@thespillingvoid

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@ahotmesswithprivilege

[nobodyknowsimalesbian777]

Anderson - Abby (Tlou 2)

NSFW tags - enemies to lovers lowkey, hate sex, masturbation, powerbottom!abby, face-fucking (r!receiving), orgasm denial sorta (a!receiving), 18+

authors note: need to dominate a buff woman so bad oh my goddddddd. hoping to release something for ellie too if i get any requests or ideas 😈😈

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you bolted straight up as you awoke, instinctively reaching for the pistol that sat on the nightstand next to you

you pulled your hand away, noticing the way the cold of the morning seemed to envelope you, making every inch of your skin quiver

sweat gathered on your brow in spite of this, gathering on your palms as you rested your head in your hands

you took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you reached over to grab your worn journal

the cover was sturdy, with only a few scruffs and scratches, probably from you throwing it against your wall so often

the inside however, was absolutely filthy, filled with lewd drawings and stories of the woman you adamantly hated, abby anderson.

she was a wlf soldier, who you worked far tot close to. you had been on the same unit for years, which ment years of you enduring abbys hate-flirting

you knew she did it on purpose, because she saw first-hand how it riled you up. you would think the physical fights would be enough to split you two up.

you couldn't help it, the frustration made your face, and cunt, become unbearably warm. and she was just so easy to catch off guard when she got flirty.

so you had moved to journaling about abby, aggressively.

'had another sex dream about anderson again??? i swear to god she can't won't leave me alone, even in my dreams. i can't stand her.'

you slammed the cover shut, burrowing back under your blankets and trying to clear the image of abby's bare thighs from your mind

of course it was all you could think of. you couldn't catch a break.

it was andersons fault, you didn't mean to walk in on her changing. maybe if she fucking answered when you knocked it wouldn't have happened.

instead you're here, burying your hand between your legs and thinking about her toned thighs, the way they met with her plump ass

and her back, oh my god, her back.

you wanted to watch her back muscles ripple and flex while you fucked her from behind,

tugging on that stupid braid and drawing out the most needy moans

slick pooled under you as you fantasized about abby,

thinking about all the ways you would show her how much you hated her

"fuck you, anderson" your voice was low as your fingers sped up, the feeling on your clit drawing out quiet groans

and just as it was starting to get good, you felt your blanket come flying off you

an all too familiar voice echoing through your quiet room "well fuck you too-"

you met eyes with Abby just in time to see them shoot open, her jaw dropping while she took in the sight in front of her

"oh my god." you were surprised by the lack of disgust in her voice, which you expected

still, you felt your stomach sink as you realized abby had just caught you thinking about her,

with your hands down your pants.

her muscular frame took up so much space in your room, space that you had never imagined she'd be here to fill

"they told me to come wake you up..i- you didn't answer when i knocked" her voice trailed off as her eyes traveled down your body,

clad in pajama pants and a sports bra, not nearly enough clothes to be having this conversation with her

you swear you were in shock, and you opened your mouth to explain yourself, but no words came to your defense

"so...you're not going to tell me why my name is in your mouth right now?" her voice was challenging you, questioning if you really knew what she had just saw

"wrong anderson, i was thinking about your...uh, your...dad?" you really hated her for being an orphan right now.

"right. my dad. ohhkay." she cocked her brow at you, "didn't think you were that fucked up."

"NO! not your dad, thats not what...not like that" you looked up to see abby fucking laughing at you

a real laugh, one you had only seen from a distance, it seemed to light up her whole face,

that is until you sent a pillow flying off of it

"it's not fucking funny, abby!" her laughter just grew, almost doubling her over as she damn-near snorted

"i just caught you masturbating for me, after telling the whole unit how much you can't stand me," she had to fight off another fit of laughter "how is that not funny?"

your head landed in your hands, yet again. maybe this was just a nightmare, a horrible, cruel nightmare that you would soon wake up from

but it wasn't a nightmare, and when you felt abbys body press up against yours, you didn't think you wanted it to be.

her lips met yours in a harsh collision, both of your bodies a flury of passion and hatred as you both grabbed at every bit of flesh you could

your hands landed on abbys shirt, tugging it over her head in one movement with her sports bra

her tits sat perfectly, right in front of you. they were small, mostly muscle from her vigorous training, and they were absolutely captivating

your mouth found its way to her rosy nipples, sucking them harshly, one after the other

abbys pretty moans bounced off the walls while your tounge worked circles around her nipples,

her back arching off the bed, pressing her chest farther into you

you couldn't stop yourself from blindly searching for the waistband of her jeans, popping your mouth off her chest when you felt her belt

abby watched you with a smirk while you fumbled with her belt buckle, every frustrated grunt you made sent a shock right down to her pussy,

she was too impatient to let you struggle for long, however. you watched as she reached down and flipped her buckle open with one hand

"i need you on my tounge." you muttered, so incredibly turned on by her casual behavior and shit-eatting grin, which she was very aware of

her hips bent upwards, allowing you to pull her jeans and boxers off, eliciting a small gasp from the woman above you as the cold air hit her core

you hadn't pegged abby to care much about body hair,

nobody did anymore, with everything else there was to worry about these days

but sitting pretty under her boxers was a little landing strip, guiding you right down to her soaking cunt

you thanked god when you saw it connected to a little happy trail, you found your lips drawn to it,

leaving little kisses down her stomach, the wiry hairs tickling your lips

abby was writhing under you while you took your time, kissing all around her thighs and stomach,

making sure to give her attention everywhere except exactly the place she needed it

the woman grabbed your hair, tugging it up and forcing you to meet her steel blue eyes

"stop fucking around and eat my pussy." her words were nowhere close to a request,

abby anderson was bossing you around, and you fucking loved it

her hands stayed in your hair as she pushed you down to her cunt, watching as you licked slow, experimental strips up her pussy,

seeing the way her face contored gave you the confirmation you needed to continue sloppily dragging your tounge from her aching hole to her swollen clit

nothing you'd ever had tasted more divine then her, and you found yourself gripping her thighs,

shoving her into your face like you needed her to breathe

no part of you doubted that her scent alone would be enough to get you off,

but you found yourself grinding down into the bed anyway, searching for some form of friction

abby took note of this, watching your pretty ass jiggle with every movement of your hips,

she couldn't even register the absolutely maddening sounds coming out of her,

every moan made your stomach flutter, and you felt high off her voice already

"mm, gonna make me cum if you keep that up pretty girl" abby was trying her best to stay in control, and she was failing miserably

her cocky words held no weight, you could hear the bliss in her voice, and you felt it against your face

every motion you made drove her closer to her release, and she was very vocal about how close she was getting

thoughts of her teasing and flirting came to mind, you couldn't shake all the times she had that stomach-curdling power over you,

and as much as you wanted to continue, you wanted to have that power over her more

so when her moans were getting uncharacteristicly high, and her hips were grinding up with a near painful force,

you pulled back

abbys muscular body squirmed under your gaze as her whines and pleas filled the room,

"wh- what? no, no, no i was so close" you wanted so badly to dive back between her legs, to make her shake and come undone for you,

but she just sounded too good begging for you, so you placed a firm slap on her ass,

eliciting a surprised yelp from her as you gathered your clothes and started getting dressed

abbys desperate eyes followed you, watching with confusion as you threw her clothes into her lap

"they're gonna wonder where we are, better hustle anderson." you said as you head out your door, watching her scramble to get ready and get back before any questions arose.

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you watched as abby scrambled over to the meeting table, all eyes on her and her flushed face

she tried to steady her breath, asking "what?"

manny looked between the two of you, eyes landing on you as you shared a knowing look with him.

"didn't expect you to be so loud abby, ." manny said with the same shit-eatting grin you had seen on her earlier,

both of you doubled over in laughter as her face lit up, random sounds sputtering out while she tried to explain herself.

you were looking forward to having the upper hand over her now.

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listening to abby whimpering audio rn 🧘‍♀️🎧

[mykuup]

Λ𝘋 𝘓𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘛𝘝𝘔 (toward pleasure) PART II

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My Masterlist | PART I

Summary : After your night at the palace, you return to your life and to your husband. But if rumors and whispers are tough to cease, it's even impossible to stop an emperor.

wc : 4.1k

Warnings : No spoiler from the movie // angst // fluff // mention of cheating // mention of violence // threat with a dagger // possesive!Geta // soft!Geta // married!reader // afab reader (but no description)

A/n : You asked, I delivered 😎 Ty ty ty ty for your appreciation for Ad Libitum pt I !! I never thought you would love it that bad! I really hope this part II will satisfy your appetite. Sorry I took my time but I'm also working on another story for our beloved emperor.

Please, interact with this I would love to see your reaction to this ending! (Also it makes me happy to see that you enjoyed my work 💜)

Sorry if you spot any mistake

Taglist : @byronking @stardancerluv @preparedfruit @userchai @helsa3942 @preparedfruit @analves @silentwhisper666 @deliciousfestsalad @saphirmoraitie @justnobodynothingmore @claudialioncourtdulac @phobobobophobia @koshkahhhh @noblenighttime @moon-390

Dalia was the first to work this morning. She had already prepared pressed fruit juice and arranged bread and cheese plates with a watered-down wine carafe. As she walked in the long corridors to bring it to Caracalla’s quarters, she noticed a half-naked woman heading out of Geta’s bedroom. Dalia saw how her hair was tangled and how she was handing her dress to hide her modesty, walking hurriedly towards the empress’s quarters. It wasn’t hard to understand the whole situation. A wide, evil smile enlightened her as she returned to the kitchen. She had to tell everyone that Geta spent the night with a concubine.

You exhale in relief as you enter the empress’s quarters. The walk of shame from Geta’s bedroom to this little chamber where you had changed earlier, happened without crossing anyone. Well, you thought you heard something but it was just your foggy mind playing tricks as no one was around. You tried to stay silent as much as possible as you were changing to your original dress. Images of Geta’s chocolate eyes were on your mind on repeat and guilt flooded your entire being.

How did you end up in this whole situation? You were happy, living a peaceful life with your husband. Speaking of, how could you explain this to him? Well, do you really want him to know? You weren’t a liar, he knew you had spent your childhood in this palace and that your parents were still working there. And even though you spoke to him about how you used to play with the young emperors when you were a child, he knew you weren’t friends with them. You never were. Your mind was racing so you didn’t notice the soft ruffles of Julia’s nightgown and you were startled when she cleared her throat. You turn to look at her and she instantly notices the turmoil inside you. She stepped closer and hugged you.

‘Rome will always be grateful for what you’ve done,’ she said softly as she pulled off. ‘I’ll be sure to send you a gift to thank you.’

You shake your head. ‘I don’t need any gift or reward Your Highness,’ your voice was firm. ‘I just want to go back to my life as if nothing ever happened here.’

Julia’s heart shattered. She really liked you and she genuinely thought you would be the perfect partner for her son. But she couldn’t say that. She respected your choice, and the fact that you already endangered your marriage for her made her keep her thoughts to herself.

As you walked away, she couldn’t fight asking you a question.

‘Are you feeling alright?’ You turned back to look at her, arching a brow. ‘Was he gentle with you?’ You could see in her eyes she was genuinely concerned to know if her son hurt you in any way possible.

But what Geta did to you tonight was totally opposite from hurting you. Memories of the tenderness he showed you invade your mind again and you smile.

‘He was the best lover I ever had,’ you simply answered before you left. You didn’t want to lie to her, and even though it was hard for you to admit it, this simple statement was the pure truth. Never the few men you had known worshipped you the way Geta did. Even your husband, who was caring and in love with you, never showed you how you truly deserved to be loved…

When you finally reach your little cottage, you spend your entire day thinking about what you did and how your life is now going to be different.

The sun rising casted soft lights through the heavy curtains seams, softly warming Geta’s face. Half awake, he shifted under the blankets and reached out for you. But all he could feel under his fingers was the coldness of the empty linen sheets. He rose abruptly, looking for you in his quarters. But you were nowhere to be found. He hastily put on his robes and stormed out of his bedroom, reaching directly to his mom’s. He crossed paths with several servants on his way and almost missed their whispers and giggles. Something was happening but he couldn’t mind less as his panic started to rise.

‘It was you right?!’ he asked without any form or greeting. His mom's eyes went wide as she wasn’t expecting to see her son this early. In front of her silence, Geta spoke again. ‘You did this, didn’t you? And now she’s gone!’ Different feelings were colliding in Geta’s heart and mind. 

Panic, fear, rage, and desperation.

The empress saw the distress in her son’s eyes and tried to reach for him. But Geta stepped back. ‘No,’ he said firmly. ‘Wh—what have you done?!’ His voice trembling, betraying him. Julia tried to reach for her son again, hugging him as he let her approach this time. His fists and jaw were clenched tight as his mind was clouded.

‘I’m sorry,’ Julia whispered, trying to soothe her son. ‘Don’t be mad at her. I was the one asking—’ Geta pulled out from his mom’s embrace, eyes wide.

‘What. Have. You. Done.’ his tone was as cold as ice as rage flooded his entire being. Julia stepped back and stumbled over her chair and then the little table as Geta was slowly walking toward her, a menacing look in his eyes.

But Julia knew otherwise. She was the empress of Rome and even though her sons were now ruling, she understood the importance of the citizens’ opinion. She stood in front of her son, her feet firmly on the ground. ‘I asked her to make you a man so you can satisfy your future wife and rule this city as you are destined to,’ her voice calm but firm.

‘You… you were ashamed of me…’ Geta realized, disgust and disappointment in his voice. Julia’s heart falls on her stomach at the statement.

‘I’ll never be ashamed of you. You’re my son, my beloved son,’ she added as she cupped his face. ‘But those rumors were deteriorating faith citizens had in you so—’ Geta cuts her off.

‘So what? You’ll make a public announcement saying I shared my bed with a woman?!’ The young emperor was annoyed that this was his mother’s plan. Of course, he knew about the rumors, it was the first thing he talked about to you last night. But a part of him wanted to believe you were there because you actually cared about him. He even hoped you would love him. But it was foolish of him to even think of it. 

‘In a few days, you will meet the Princess of Galatia (modern Turkey).’ Geta froze in place. ‘Her father and yours were old friends. We agreed this would be the best option as she’s still young and you needed to be experimented for her.’

Geta's eyes went wide, his pupils fully blown out, and no brown was left. Veins could be seen on his forehead and neck as his jaw clenched tight, his teeth almost shattering at the strength. His pale complexion was long gone, deep red now adorning his face. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye as rage consumed him.

‘Where is she?’ He managed to speak, his fingers bruising his mother’s skin as he held her by the shoulders. ‘They will arrive soon—’

‘NO!’ Geta screamed, cutting his mom’s off. ‘WHERE IS SHE?!’ And Julia figured out he was talking about you. ‘Please she—’ But the look he gave her sent a thrill down her spine. He made it clear she would not dare to make him repeat himself.

Julia gulped, now a bit afraid of her son. ‘She’s gone, Geta. You can’t have her… she’s married.’ Her last words felt like a punch in the guts. Geta let go of his mother and, without a word, as she thought, he walked away. When he reached the big wooden door to exit his mother’s quarters, he stopped.

‘I am the emperor,’ his voice surprisingly calm and steady. ‘I can have whatever I want.’

A few days have passed since you ran off the palace. Your husband was back from the countryside with new fabrics to sell at the market. It had been two weeks since he last saw you so when he noticed you were home, waiting for him, he couldn’t stop himself. He was too excited.

‘I missed you so much,’ he said as he was kissing your lips and caressing your body under his. You shivered as your mind was elsewhere. As you closed your eyes, flashes of deep brown eyes flooded. You could hear his voice whispering praises. You imagined it was him kissing you right now. You snapped your eyes open, ashamed of thinking about someone else while your husband was making love to you. But it didn’t felt the same anymore. He tasted different, his touch wasn’t enough. Even when he dived inside of you, your pussy was aching, not feeling full enough. You hated yourself right now. And the feeling lingered as your life kept going.

Guilt, shame, and irritation followed you for days. Your husband noticed something and tried his best to understand what was going on but you shut yourself, not letting him in. You didn’t wanted to hurt him, even though you knew you already had and he had no clue.

At the end of the week, Rome was celebrating. It was announced that the royal family of Galatia was there. Games would be played in the arena and tons of merchants were in the flooded streets to sell pastries, exotic fruits, and other things to the citizens and guests. To get a better chance at selling more, your husband asked you to accompany him.

As you were behind your stand, you caught a woman staring at you. You didn’t pay attention at first but then you noticed she was talking to other women around her. All of them looking at you and giggling. As you stared back, you recognized their outfit and then, it snapped at you. They were all servants at the palace. And the way one of them looked at you with a devilish smile, you understood. That night when you were towering back to the empress’s quarters, you heard something. You heard footsteps but saw no one. But this girl, you knew she saw you.

It couldn’t be otherwise.

You wanted to do something. But what? Confronting them could pull out the truth and your husband would know. The worst thing would be for the entire city to know that you, a married woman, ended up in the virgin emperor’s bed. It could bring shame to the entire royal family and you would be sent to exile if not killed in a public place.

You felt sick, bile stinging in your throat. You had to do something, to find a solution. The servants scattered and you wondered how much time it would be left for you until the rumor spread and landed in Geta’s ears. You looked around you, it was late in the afternoon so you could pretend you needed some rest and go home alone and figure it all out there.

‘Are you alright dove?’ your husband asked you, worried in his voice as he looked at you. He saw the panic in your eyes, you couldn’t hide it.

‘I’m just… I don’t feel well. I think I need to rest.’ Your husband tilted his head, trying to understand your late behavior. But he remembered his father teaching him how women could be very mysterious creatures and that sometimes, a man should know when to let go.

‘Right, why don’t you go with Orina? Her husband told me she also wanted to leave the market early.’ You nodded as he kissed your forehead and you walked toward Orina. 

She was older than you, her husband was a spice seller. Convenient for you, she went to the marker with her horse. So you ride behind her until you both reach her house. She offered you to stay but you declined politely and walked toward your little house. The sun had disappeared when you pushed your cottage’s wooden door. You sigh, your mind racing with thoughts. You felt your headache growing and then an idea came out.

You had to disappear.

Julia did her best to not let her son comb through the entire city to find you. When the royal family of Galatia arrived, Geta was trapped. He had to stay at the palace for his guests but he was boiling inside. His mother’s plans felt like betrayal and in his rage, he thought for a second to punish his mom for this. Even when he was in the arena, watching the games, his mind was elsewhere. He was obsessed with you, the souvenir of your lips on his haunting his every thought. His mother tried to force him to get closer to Princess Nazenin, but Geta only stayed polite, his coldness toward her barely hiding. 

The fight down in the arena was almost finished when a servant sneaked in to whisper something to the king. His eyes went wide and his fist landed abruptly on the arm of his chair. Everybody was startled and turned around to look at him. Anger was written on his face as he first looked at Geta and then at the empress. 

‘You lied to us!’ he screamed and Julia rose from her throne. ‘Your Highness I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ her tone was desperate as she was lost, not knowing what was happening.

‘You told us we would come here to marry our children but it came to my ears that your son is already engaged to an insignificant whore?!’

Julia’s eyes went wide but it was nothing compared to Geta’s. He grabbed his dagger from his golden belt and aimed at the king, his blade stopping at his throat, dangerously close to cut through his skin. Everyone on the balcony was shocked and Geta spoke, his voice trembling with hate and rage.

‘Never call her that again.’ He took a look around, noticing everyone's reaction. Caracalla was bouncing on his throne, thrilled to see his brother kill someone. His mother was mortified, silently pleading for the king’s life. The princess was kneeling before him, also praying for the emperor to let her father go. And finally, he noticed the servant hiding behind a collum. He let go of the king, not even listening to the relief and complaints of what just happened and walked toward the servant.

‘Who told you that?’ Geta asked, gripping firmly at the collar of the servant’s tunic. She was so scared of him that nothing came out of her throat. ‘TELL ME! He shouted and the servant babbled her answer.

‘Da-Dalia, she saw the concubine at the market selling fabrics, and she—’ Geta didn't let her finish her explanation. He let her go and, without looking back, left the coliseum. He took a horse and rode to reach the marketplace. The streets were still full of people but he didn’t mind, hurrying the animal to go faster. When he saw the first fabric stand, he looked around to find you. But you were nowhere to be found. He noticed that the sellers were often couple or at least two for one stand. So when he found one with only a man behind his display, he reached for him.

‘You!’ Geta called, pointing at the man. The seller bowed before him and tried to hide his nervousness. ‘Are you alone?’ The man rose to look at the young emperor, not really sure why he could ask him such a question. ‘Don’t make me repeat myself,’ Geta’s impatience showed in his tone.

‘Yes, Your Highness I’m alone. My wife just left to get some rest—’

‘What’s her name?’ Geta cuts him off and confusion could be seen on the seller’s face. When he told Geta your name, the emperor saw red. He was your husband. How could you be with such a simple man when you deserved the entire world?! This man couldn’t even afford golden threads for his fabrics. Or worse, he couldn’t even protect you from those horrendous rumors. He could get rid of him so easily, but this would be for later. Right now, Geta needed to find you. ‘Where is she now?’

‘Home, she was—’

‘Where?!’ Your husband gave him the information and Geta didn’t waste a second, his horse galloping as fast as it could.

Your house wasn’t far from the city and when he saw the little cottage with two pine trees as your husband described it, Geta felt some relief for a short second.

But panic started to get over him as he saw no fire or candlelight from the little window. You weren’t there. He crossed the little bridge and hurried to your front garden. He climbed out from his horse, attached the leash to the wooden hedge, and started looking for you. At first, he tried to broke into your house but the door was locked and he could guess you weren’t inside anyway. But when he looked around, he noticed a little dot of light moving further on the unpaved path.

A candlelight. 

You were grabbing your cape tightly as you were walking away from Rome. You decided it was best for you to leave this place before it could go out of hand. You didn’t wanted your husband to be shamed, and you wanted to avoid your head to end up on a stick. But as you were running away from your life, you heard someone shout your name and heavy hooves hitting the ground. When you turned around, Geta was there, slowing his horse as he got closer to you. You let go of the little candle you were handling and started to run but he was faster, getting in your way.

‘Where do you think you’re going?!’ Geta said, his tone harsher than he intended. You took off your hood and looked at him, wondering how he ended up here. Why did he came after you after all these days? Wasn’t he supposed to get married to whatever child this royal family brings?

‘Your Highness you—’ 

‘Stop calling me like that,’ he cuts you off. ‘Stop pretending nothing happened between us.’ You swallow hard. Of course, you couldn’t act like he wasn’t on repeat in your mind. That is why you were leaving in the first place.

But your ego was also big and you didn’t wanted to show him how much you were affected by him.

‘This is the only way… Your Highness,’ you dared and turned back to walk away. Now you were getting on his nerves and he hated this attitude of yours. He grabbed you by the arm to stop you, bringing you close to him. You tried to set free in vain. He was strong, his grip already bruising your skin but not in a sweet way. You cried out, pleading for him to let you go. Geta grabbed your face with his other hand, making you look at him, his pupils all blown out.

‘My mom told me I can’t have you but I told her otherwise,’ he stated with gritted teeth. ‘So stop playing games. Let me take you back to the palace.’

‘I don’t care what you told to your mom. I’m married, you can’t have—’

‘STOP IT!’ Geta shouted, and you stopped fighting, stunned by his loud voice. ‘Stop telling me that I can’t have whatever I want. I am the emperor, I take what I please. Your husband? I can get rid of him so easily, you have no idea.’ Your body shivered. You couldn’t let him kill your husband, it was too extreme. Geta saw the panicked look in your eyes. His grip on you loosened but he made sure to keep you close, his arms now encircling your body gently. He offered you a smile to ease the tension between you and he spoke again, his voice soft and calm.

‘I almost killed a king for you today. And I would kill anyone if it’s the only way to have you by my side.’

His eyes locked on yours and you noticed how serious he was. Of course, he had to go for the most intense way. His gaze softened as you were still silent and he softly called out your name.

‘Please, come with me. I—I don’t even know how you did this to me. All I know is that I can’t live without you. I need you more than a starved man needs food I… I need you more than a fool needs guidance from the Gods.’

‘Geta please, we can’t—’ you tried but he cupped your face, his rings cold against your hot cheeks. ‘I would burn Rome and the entire world if you ask me to,’ he whispered, and you could feel his breath on your lips. ‘Please,’ his words only a gentle murmur now. His lips crushed on yours and you melt at his touch, your body entirely burning for him.

Everything around you disappeared as his embrace tightened around you. You hummed when he tried to play with your tongue, and your hands instinctively went to get tangled in his ginger locks. His hands were roaming on your body, making you feel safe, loved, and worshipped. You gently pulled out to get some air and you looked at him. Geta’s cheeks were all flushed, his deep brown eyes falling to your lips before locking his eyes in yours.

You took a deep breath, thinking about what you would say to him. But before you could say anything, he took out his golden-leaves crown to put it on your head and fell to his knees. His arms still encircling you, he looked at you one more time before nudging his face at your belly, his hot breath fanning over your core through your dress. He inhaled your scent and hummed in satisfaction before pulling away to lock his eyes into yours again.

‘Please, let me make you the greatest empress Rome has ever known.’

At this moment, it felt right to nod your head in approval. You couldn’t refuse him anything with the way he was staring at you. He never looked so desperate yet so hopeful. His grip around you was soft yet strong and you realized how madly in love Geta was. You cupped his face to bring him back close to yours as you sighed, still thinking about your decision.

‘Geta,’ you spoke softly as you got lost in his deep chocolate haze. ‘I—What will happen next?’

You were waiting for something, a reason to say no, or maybe something that doesn’t sound crazy. But the truth was that you wanted to be his as he stole your heart in the sweetest way possible. He might had a sixth sense because his answer reflected what you were thinking.

‘You stole my heart the moment I saw you in the palace. And for as long as I remember, you were the only one visiting me in my dreams. If you agree to go back to the palace with me, I promise you only glory and happiness. I want you to be the empress of Rome. I want you to be my wife. And I want you to be the mother of my children. Because you deserve the world, I will bring it to you, fighting and winning every battle I can to show you that I’m worthy of your love.’ He kissed you on the corner of your lips and added in a whisper. ‘That’s what will happen, I promise.’

Without thinking twice, you crushed your lips on his, gripping his robe to get him as close to you as possible. Your kiss was wild, full of hope and desires, the moon and stars the only witnesses of this raw love you showed him. When you pulled out to breathe, Geta’s eyes were full of spark and lust, mirroring yours. You both didn’t ride back to the palace, spending the night entangled in each other’s arms, making love under the moonlight.

When the morning sun rose up, and after putting back your clothes on, Geta offered you his help to get on the horse. ‘Your Highness,’ he said with a very distinguished tone. ‘Your throne awaits.’ You giggled at his sudden playfulness, surprising you with a new side of him you know you will be more than happy to discover. As you encircled your arms around his waist, he caressed your hand and softly ordered the horse to walk.

‘I can’t wait for Rome to see you, my empress. ’

[lyrakanefanaticwriting]

Brothers and Cliffs

authors note: alright i have a TON of requests (not just here, but also on my main) and yes i am going to get around to doing those, but i had this idea for a fic for a long time and really wanted to write it, so yeah! this fic takes place in either glorious rivals or the grandest game, but just pretend that they don’t know gigis kidnapped yet 😭

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Lyra knew she was on the brink of getting eliminated. She knew it, and her heart froze in her chest from the acknowledgment of that fact. Gasping for air as she finally stopped running all around the island, she doubled over, placing her hands on her knees.

“Giving up so soon?” A British taunt interjected. Lyra turned her head, and saw Rohan leaning against a dead tree, smirking at her. She knew that he already knew the answer to the riddle, knew that she was the only one left who didn’t yet, and anger bubbled inside of her.

“No.” She spat, standing up as straight as she could before sprinting off, away from him. Her heart ricocheted in her chest, and Lyra tried to slow her breathing so she could think and not cry. She continued to run, before a sudden image made her halt to a stop. She stalked slowly to the tree, not sure if her eyes were fooling her. There, on the tree, she could just barely see a circle where the ridges didn’t co-align with the others. Lyra knew that was possible, but there was something about the perfection of the circle that made her freeze in the first place. Placing her fingernails into the tiny cracks, she grabbed the small circle of the tree the best she could and tugged. The part of the tree came out, leaving an empty hole inside. Lyra immediately crammed her fingers inside the hole, grabbing at it, before feeling paper and pulling it out. With her heart jolting in her chest, Lyra unwrapped the paper, before readings its contents:

“Without me and within me is death assured, with me and within you is life most pure.”

Lyra paused for only a moment. Water. There was no way it was that easy. That was, until a sudden memory of Jameson Hawthorne speaking to all of the contestants washed over her.

“Don’t be so sure,” Jameson said to Rohan in front of all of us, a reply to when Rohan teased Savannah about wanting to scale her walls. “Scaling walls is harder than one might think.”

Scaling walls. Lyra remembered a “wall” that would be harder to scale than one might think, a wall that stood just over a body of water. The cliff.

Without a moments hesitation, Lyra looked up at the sky, realized it couldn’t be more than 5 minutes till sunset, and took off towards the cliff.

Lyra knew she was getting closer to the cliffs by not only the feel of the wind on this side of the island, but also by the amount of contestants and Hawthornes she saw waiting. She saw Brady Daniels. Savannah Grayson. Jameson Hawthorne. Nash Hawthorne. Xander Hawthorne. Avery Grambs. Grayson, however, was no where to be seen.

Lyra’s mind lingered on that fact longer than she had any right to.

Running closer towards the cliff, a voice slowed her down.

“I know you know the answer by now, and I’m just telling you that if you try to scale that cliff in the time you have left, you are going to get hurt in the process.” Nash Hawthornes Texas drawl told her, as he sat up against the ruins, strumming a guitar. He looked up at her. “There has to be a length you aren’t willing to take, and if there is one, it should be this.” Pettiness rose in her chest. She still had time. 2 minutes, at the most, but time. An idea flashed through her, and, huffing out a breath, she tied her hair up with the small black elastic on her wrist.

“You seem pretty sure about that.” She retorted, determination clear on her face. Lyra figured out a way to find the answer she needed. She wasn’t going to scale the cliff. She didn’t need to.

She started to run, going farther away from Nash Hawthorne and closer towards the cliff. She ran. And ran. And when she was sure there was only a minute left on her time, she ran even more, coming closer towards the edge, slowing to a halt once she finally did.

And then she jumped.

GRAYSON:

Grayson walked out of the ruins, making his way towards Jameson, before a figure caught his eye. Lyra. Grayson held a breath as he watched her talk to Nash. He had looked all over the island, trying desperately to find her and try to help her through the riddle and its answer. She had, what, a minute left? There was a good chance that she wouldn’t make it, and Grayson knew what he would do if that were true. Start a trust fund for her brothers. Try and help with Mile’s End. He knew that Lyra would refuse any financial help, but he would try his best. And then what would happen if she left? What would happen to them?

An annoying voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“I think I’m the first to tell you this, Gray, but wistfully looking at the love of your life is supposed to only be a thing that happens in movies.” Grayson turned towards Jameson, raising a brow and snapping out of his daze.

“You’re an idiot.” He stated, despite Avery’s giggle beside Jamie.

“You two need to stop fighting so mu-“ Avery didn’t even get to finish before Jameson’s voice interrupted hers.

“What the hell?” He said, his voice intense. It was so sudden that Grayson froze, turning his gaze to where Jameson’s was. Grayson watched with horror as Lyra ran closer to the edge, before suddenly, with a jump, leaping off. Grayson hesitated. He paused, frozen alongside his brother who was no doubt thinking the same thing that Grayson was, and he knew he would regret it for the rest of his life. Staying frozen while Lyra could be de-

Grayson didn’t let himself finish that thought before breaking into a sprint towards the cliff.

LYRA:

Lyra turned the best she could in air, reading the message carved into the cliff wall only a second before falling into the water. She ran it over in her head, thinking about it as she scrambled to come above the freezing cold water.

“I am a mother and a father, but have never given birth. I am rarely still, but I never wander. What am I?”

Lyra thought it over. Then she thought over what her mother had said once to her when she was 13 and they were walking through a trail. What she said about the “most nurturing parents of the forest.” And then she thought about where she got her original riddle from.

A tree.

She barely had time to feel relieved before a wave hit her aggressively, dragging her under.

GRAYSON:

Grayson finally made it to the shore of the water below the cliff where Lyra should be, searching the water for her. He barely saw her come above the water, before getting sucked back under. Fear threatened to hold him under, but he pushed it, and the memory of Emily doing this exact same thing with him, down. With a shuddering breath, he took off his suit jacket as fast as he could and dove into the water. With his eyes open, he could just barely see her figure under the crashing waves, and then he was swimming towards her, and bringing her body to his. Her eyes opened once he brought her body to his chest and hooked one hand under her knees with his other arm wrapped around her upper back. She looked even more beautiful underwater. Grayson tried his best not to mull on that, but he still nonetheless drank the feel of her body pressed against his chest in like wine. Ignoring the aggressive waves, he swam back up to shore, holding her body in his arms as he saw his brothers, Avery, and the other contestants run over to them.

“What the hell was that?” Jameson demanded, his gaze turned to Lyra. Grayson could tell by his large pupils that he was also seeing a glimpse of what happened to Emily in Lyra. Avery had her hand on Jameson’s arm, but from his past demand, she took his hand in hers, turning his attention away from Lyra and Grayson almost immediately. Grayson placed Lyra down gently, ignoring his shaking hands as he took his suit jacket off the floor, shook off some sand, and draped it over her shoulders. Lyra immediately pulled it closer towards her, shivering. She was about to speak, when Grayson interjected.

“You could have gotten hurt, Lyra. Then what would happen?” He asked, his voice more hoarse than he wanted to admit. Lyra paused, her mouth stuck open, as her brows furrowed. She shut her mouth then, shrugging as she instead turned to Nash.

“I told you that you seemed too sure about the fact that there were lengths I wouldn’t take.” She told Nash simply. Grayson mulled on that, grappling with a calm that he didn’t in any way feel. Jameson paused, before nodding.

“You did what you had to do, reckless or not. Although I do feel that as Game Master I should warn you away from cliffs and danger in general, as we don’t need one of the contestants to kill themself half way through the Grandest Game.” He said, his pupils finally shrinking. Grayson whipped his head towards Jameson, as his mind still grappled with what was going on.

“This isn’t a joke, Jameson. She could have-” Died. Grayson paused, his voice guttural. Lyra turned to him with a raised brow, but Grayson kept his gaze firmly on Jameson. “She could have gotten seriously hurt.”

“I did just say that, didn’t I?” Jameson retorted, with a raised brow. In Grayson’s mind, he could see the image of Emily jumping off the cliff. Then, he saw Jameson’s smirk a mere few days after the incident. He was already making a joke of things.

“Are you serious?” Grayson was going to continue, before Nash cut him off.

“Enough, Grayson.” He warned. Grayson turned to him. “This isn’t about her.” Nash didn’t have to say who the “her” was for Grayson to know what he was getting at. Emily.

“Her?” Rohan and Lyra asked simultaneously. Grayson’s gaze turned to Lyra. He watched how her brows furrowed ever so slightly, before she turned her attention to Avery. Grayson could see her brain working through the events of tonight, trying to connect them to the Hawthorne heiress in some way. She opened her mouth to speak, before Grayson cut in.

“Not Avery.” He interjected. Lyra snapped her mouth shut, and Grayson held her gaze for only a few seconds before turning to his brothers. He planned on lecturing Jameson more on what jokes were and weren’t appropriate to make, before Savannah interrupted.

“Then who?” She asked, her expression calm as she raised a brow. Lyra, Rohan, and Brady all turned to him expectantly, but he wasn’t planning on giving them an actual answer.

“It doesn’t matter.” He stated, his voice meant to shut the topic down. Jameson raised a brow at him.

“Are you sure, Grayson,” He asked slowly. “That it doesn’t matter to you?” A flicker of anger sparked in Grayson’s chest.

“I could say the same for you, Jamie.” He replied, his tone cool and collected despite the anger building inside of him. Jameson rolled his eyes.

“You have to get over it at some point, Grayson. When’s that stick finally gonna come out of your ass?” He said, his voice louder than before.

“I am getting over it. When are you going to get over that nonchalant nothing-matters attitude? When are you going to finally take things seriously?” He retorted, his eyes narrowing at Jameson. Nash and Avery both interjected, telling the two of them to cool down as Xander watched nervously, but Grayson couldn’t believe it. Would he be cracking jokes at Lyra’s funeral? Making light of things while she’s in the hospital, bleeding out from impact? Grayson didn’t know.

“This is who I am. It’s who I’ve always been, Grayson. Don’t act like part of your personality isn’t being a bitch.” Jameson spat right back, stepping closer to Grayson. Grayson’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t argued with his brothers like this in years. But seeing Lyra on the brink of getting hurt made him…. act different. Maybe it was about Emily. Or maybe the idea of losing Lyra was one that he just couldn’t bear. Grayson took a step forward, before Lyra’s hand shot out to hold his arm.

“What the hell are you doing, Grayson? Calm down.” She told him. Grayson turned to meet her eyes, feeling more calm than he had moments ago from the feel of her warm hand over his arm, before a voice brought that anger back.

“Yeah, Grayson,” Jameson taunted, his eyes hard as stone. “Calm down.”

“Don’t taunt him.” Nash warned Jameson quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder. Behind Nash, Grayson could see Savannah and Rohan send each other interested glances. He didn’t like fighting with his brothers, especially in front of other people, but right now, he couldn’t help it.

“Or what?” Grayson retorted, his eyes dragging back to Jameson’s. A flash of anger entered his eyes, and that’s when the retorts just kept coming.

“The fuck do you mean, or what? It’s not like you’re going to do anything. You’ve always been too scared to ruin that perfect reputation you’ve got going on.” Jameson said, his voice intense as he took a step closer.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Grayson replied slowly.

“I do know what I’m talking about. When are you finally going to get over this bullshit?”

“Oh, you always bring it back to that.”

“Like it’s my fucking fault!” Jameson paused, running a hand through his hair. “Grayson. Do you seriously think that I don’t understand what you’re going through?” Jameson’s voice was more quiet now. And Grayson wanted to hear him out. He really did. But suddenly, a rush of emotions overtook him, and Grayson squeezed his eyes shut. It was only for a second, but still, when he opened his eyes, he was met with Jameson’s pitying ones. He didn’t want pity. And he knew, in his heart, that his grandfather would be disappointed in him for even craving the smallest bit of it.

“I think,” Grayson said calmly, stepping back as his face turned neutral in seconds. “That you haven’t figured out how to take anything seriously yet.” Grayson gave Jameson an unbothered stare, and that must have been the straw that broke the camels back, because in seconds, Jameson flipped him onto the ground.

“When will you grow up, Gray?” Jameson spat, staring Grayson dead in the eyes. Grayson returned the look, flipping him onto his back as he grappled for the upper hand.

“That’s rich coming from you.” Grayson retorted furiously. The two were in a fighting match, on the ground as different verbal assaults came flying from the both of them. Nash tried to break them up, but they seemed to be ignoring him, too caught up in their own wrestling match.

“What are you doing, Grayson? Get up.” Grayson recognized that honey rich voice immediately. Lyra. He tried to turn around and look at her, but his brother used the distraction as an opportunity to get the upper hand.

“You’re fucking unbelievable Grayson.” He spat.

“Please, spare me from your disappointment.” Grayson retorted sarcastically.

“Grayson, that’s enough.” A guttural voice that Grayson identified as Avery’s spoke up. Jameson immediately froze, his lips parting.

“It’ll be enough as soon as it’s enough for Jameson.” Grayson replied in a cool manner. Jameson’s gaze ripped back to Grayson’s, a sneer on his face.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You. First.”

“What the actual fuck are you two doing?” Grayson froze as his head whipped towards where the angry voice came from. Lyra stood with her arms crossed, her face in disbelief as she ripped off Graysons jacket and threw it on him. Grayson peeled the suit jacket off his face, his brother having stopped fighting too, as he stared up at Lyra.

“Well?” She asked him. Grayson paused, uncertain of what to do. She seemed even more furious at that fact, stepping closer to him as a flicker of anger entered her eyes. She pointed her finger in his face.

“Get. Up. You. Asshole.” She enunciated with each point, staring at Grayson furiously as he slowly got up from the ground. As soon as he got up, Lyra stared down her nose at him, despite Grayson being taller than her by a good amount, before shaking her head.

“Maybe the millions of dollars aren’t actually worth it.” She said, sighing. Nash snorted, the first I’d heard from him since he tried breaking me and Jameson up.

“That was… something.” Brady said quietly, his brows furrowed as he glanced between Jameson and Grayson.

“That was stupid.” Lyra corrected, glancing back at Grayson. “I didn’t get hurt.” Grayson knew that. But she could have. And, selfish as it is, Grayson couldn’t help but think that there would be nothing left for him in the case that she did die.

“But you easily could have.” He finally said, expelling a breath. Lyra mulled on that, pressing her lips into a thin line.

“This is all very heartfelt, and I’m so glad that this melancholy Romeo found his somewhat less melancholy Juliet, but I do feel the need to ask,” Rohan interjected, placing a finger on his lips as if in thought as he studied Lyra. “Is she still in the game?”

“Yes.” Grayson said immediately, his tone defensive. Rohan made a face at him.

“You, Grayson Hawthorne, are no longer a Gamemaster. You, are a contestant,” He said, his tone amused as he smirked at Grayson. “Therefore you have no say in this matter.” Grayson was about to rebuke whatever he said, mainly because Rohan was only trying to deny Lyra of her spot in the game, but also because he was eyeing Savannah in a way that Grayson didn’t appreciate, before Nash interrupted.

“Well, because of these two numbskulls,” Nash interjected, glaring at Jameson and Grayson, “She didn’t actually get to say her answer.” Nash turned his attention to Lyra, and gradually, so did everybody else. He gestured at her, and Lyra didn’t hesitate as she spoke.

“A tree.” She said, her eyes lit up with a courageous look so fierce it burned Grayson. Grayson had typically stayed away from risks, from the spark of danger his entire life. But for some reason, while all these traits do apply to Lyra, he just physically can’t find a way to stay away from her. From the spark in her eyes. From the determined set of her chin. From all of it. Avery’s gaze slid to Grayson’s, and, as if she could read his thoughts, she smiled.

“Congratulations, Lyra Catalina Kane,” Avery said, stepping forward to be face-to-face with her, “you will remain a contestant in the game.” A look of relief barely touched Lyra’s features, before they turned neutral. She nodded, before turning and straying back to the cliff. Graysons eyes lingered on her, before slowly sliding to back to Avery, who was currently speaking.

“This night will be a grace period, but by 8:00 in the morning, everyone should be meeting just outside the house.” Avery stated, her expression kind. All the contestants began to walk back to the house, with Grayson’s brothers trailing after them and casting those looks at the way Grayson was watching Lyra, and soon enough, it was just the two of them left near the cliff side.

“You definitely had a normal reaction today.” Lyra finally said, breaking the silence that threatened to swallow Grayson whole.

“I couldn’t have handled it better.” He said, matching her sarcasm as he strode up beside her. Lyra turned to him suddenly, the movements graceful, yet intense, in a way.

“What was going through your head?” She asked him suddenly. Grayson swallowed.

“I..” He trailed off, before clearing his throat and making his features as simple as possible. “I was worried about you.” And he was. He was terribly worried, that the one good thing in his life would suddenly vanish.

“And if something were to happen to me..” She trailed off. Grayson knew she expected him to finish her sentence for her, but when he didn’t, she just looked up at him exasperatedly.

“Tell me you wouldn’t freak out as much as you did today if I were to die. Tell me that it wouldn’t weigh down on you as much as I saw it did in your face.” She said, trying to make her voice as simple as possible. Grayson wanted to lie. To tell her, ‘yes, I would be fine in the case that any of that were to happen’. But he couldn’t. His heart squeezed at the thought of lying to her. A strand of her dark hair blew free from her wet ponytail, and Grayson had to physically fight down the desire to brush it behind her ear.

“I can’t.” He finally said, his voice more hoarse than he intended it to be. She pressed her lips together, her thick brows knitting together as she gazed up at him.

“Why not?” She said softy, giving him a half shrug.

“Why not?” Grayson repeated, his voice tinged with amusement and disbelief. He wanted to explain to her exactly why not, but he held himself back from the urge to.

“Because….” He trailed off again, searching for a response. Once he found one, he immediately spoke up again. “Because you deserve to find out exactly what happened to your father. Your dying wouldn’t exactly make the search easier.” Lyra closed her eyes momentarily, and Grayson knew exactly where her brain was going; to calla lily’s, to gunshots and blood, and to omega. To everything they had found out while in that room for 12 hours.

“So it’s just about my father? Nothing else?” She finally said, opening her eyes. Grayson couldn’t say no. He couldn’t will himself to lie to her. So, all he could manage was the slightest nod. Lyra nodded back, before speaking.

“Well, at least you’ll go to sleep tonight knowing you mastered the art of being a jackass.” Lyra stated, making Grayson snort.

“I learned a lot of things tonight.” He said, more softly now.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” Lyra rebutted. Grayson paused for a moment. He thought about the bitter and angry person he had become when his mind lingered on the idea of Lyra getting hurt. And then he thought about how those terrible thoughts began to vanish the second she looked his way.

“Quod amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus.” Grayson said softly. Lyra rolled her eyes.

“I really hope that that’s not another one of you Hawthorne’s Latin lingo.” She said, her lips quirked. Graysons lips lifted by a hair himself, as his heart felt lighter than it had a mere 10 minutes ago.

“Sorry to disappoint you, then.” Grayson stated, raising a brow. Lyra’s smile grew, before she turned her head to the cliff side. Grayson wanted to fill the silence before Lyra noticed that he was watching her.

“When was the last time you’ve slept?” The question was so sudden that it made Lyra’s head turn in confusion. She studied him, as if seeing if he was joking, but after a moments hesitation, she only snorted.

“Uh, I don’t know, what day is it today?” She asked jokingly.

“Monday.” Lyra made a face.

“Oh… that’s bad.” She blew out a breath, causing that same strand of hair from before to fly upwards. Grayson turned his attention more to her, coming closer.

“When was the last time you’ve eaten?” He asked her, raising a brow. Lyra waved a hand, smacking Grayson’s chest in the process. He liked the closeness of her, and barely held himself back from stepping closer and never moving away again.

“I swallowed a good third of the ocean while almost drowning, so I think I’ll be good for the week.” Lyra joked.

“Lyra.” Graysons tone was serious. She met his gaze again, the humour from her face disappearing.

“We all had dinner last night, remember?” Lyra said, sounding sincere. Grayson’s brow raised deepened.

“Yes, I very much remember. You pushed around your food the entire time.” Grayson stated. He was worried. He didn’t exactly know why she wasn’t eating, but still, he knew whatever compelled her to avoid food, it wasn’t good. Lyra gave him a look.

“Look, I’m not eating because of… that.” She finished lamely. “Not like you should be watching me eat anyway. But, since you asked, sometimes I don’t eat because I get…. stressed. Whenever I’m stressed, I completely lose my appetite.”

“And you’ve been stressed because…?” Grayson trailed off, knowing the answer, but still wanting her to say it herself.

“My father.” She finished, her chest heaving. Grayson nodded, before turning to where he and Jameson had been brawling on the floor, picked up his suit jacket, and dug his hand in the pocket. His hand came out holding a protein bar. Grayson noticed that Lyra had been shivering the slightest bit, almost as if she was covering it up, and he draped his suit jacket across her shoulders just like how he did before. Lyra gave him a look, but didn’t object as she pulled it closer towards her. Now that she was looking at him, Grayson held out the protein bar to her.

“Eat this.” He told her, stepping closer to her again and holding it out for her. Lyra raised a brow at him.

“‘Eat this’? Wow, you’re really good at giving orders, asshole.” She deadpanned.

“Please.” Grayson managed. She held his eyes for a few seconds, before huffing out a breath and grabbing the bar.

“We should go back to the house now.” She said, squinting at the protein bar in her hand.

“Agreed.” Grayson said. They walked in silence, with Grayson watching Lyra, before she finally sighed and spoke.

“You’re going to keep watching me until I cave and eat this bar, aren’t you?” She asks him, giving him a dirty look.

“Yup.” Grayson replied simply, holding her gaze despite the look she was giving him. Lyra sighed again, before ripping open the bar and taking a bite.

“Mm. I just love the taste of sand and granola.” Lyra deadpanned once she swallowed her first bite. Grayson couldn’t help but let a smile loose.

“It adds texture.” He teased. Grayson’s eyes caught on something. Nash’s guitar. He must have forgotten it after the entire… situation Grayson was going through with his brother. He walked over to go pick it up, before walking back to Lyra. Her ponytail was becoming more and more loose, until the elastic completely fell out. Lyra huffed, grabbing her hair in realization that it fell out and gave him a look that said “of course”. Graysons lips lifted by a hair as he walked over to her, saw a little black elastic, slipped it onto his wrist, and kept walking. He’d give it back to her once it wasn’t covered in sand. Or… that’s what he told himself, anyway.

“Ugh, how is there sand in this? It had a wrapper.” Lyra complained, almost done eating the protein bar. Grayson turned to meet her eyes, taking her hand that held the bar and pointing with my other to a label on the bar that said “now has more dark chocolate!”

“I thought you’d like it,” He said, dropping Lyra’s hand and noticing how she immediately dropped her arms to her sides. “it has dark chocolate, after all.” Lyra gave him a look.

“I didn’t tell you I liked dark chocolate.” She said.

“No, but I heard you telling Xander about how you like chocolate, and then I figured you’d like dark the best.” Lyra turned her head, eyeing the doors of the mansion as Grayson held one open for her.

“Well, you figured right.” She finally said, walking in. She was about to walk the other way, towards the contestants rooms, before Grayson spoke up.

“Try and sleep tonight.” He said. Lyra turned and gave him a glare, to which Grayson dipped his head. “Please.”

She looked like she was going to say something sarcastic, but just slumped her shoulders and gazed at him with eyes a gorgeous amber shade instead.

“I can’t.” She finally said, her head bowed. Grayson stepped towards her, gently placing two fingers beneath her chin and tilting it upwards.

“Try.” He said softly. She just looked away, as she chewed on her lip. She looked like she was about to rebuke his one word statement, before Grayson spoke again.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping too,” he admitted, opening up for her so that she could do the same for him. Lyra looked up at him, and her mouth suddenly quirked into a smile that Grayson was beginning to recognize: a crooked smirk that said “I’m going to say something either really funny or really teasing”. Unfortunately for Grayson. she went for the latter.

“Whoever has darker eye bags tomorrow morning has to third wheel with Rohan and Savannah for a whole hour while being forced to listen to their…. colourful conversations.” She said, a cheeky grin on her face. Graysons cheeks immediately heat up as he shook his head at Lyra.

“I have 0 idea what Savannah could possibly see in him.” Grayson stated darkly, his face sour as he thought of the annoying British man who she associates herself with. Lyra just giggled into the palm of his hand, and Grayson, with cheeks that were beginning to tinge red and a very vibrant image of strangling Rohan in his head, did not think that the moment that they just shared was so awful, because the sound of her laugh could never be associated with anything even remotely negative. Grayson couldn’t help but smile himself, and gestured to her room down the hall.

“You might want to get a head start, because I don’t plan on being forced to stay even 10 feet near them.” Grayson deadpanned. Lyra snorted, and winked at him as she walked away.

“Believe me, I don’t need it.” She retorted. Grayson liked her quick tongue. He liked it a lot.

“Oh yeah?” He asked her with a raised brow as she walked away.

“Yeah.” She replied, tossing her hair over her shoulder and continuing to walk to her room, her steps graceful and filled with poise.

Grayson watched her go, momentarily forgetting about the guitar in his hands. Once he remembered, he strode to Nash’s room, knocking twice on the door. Once he heard Nash’s call for Grayson to come in, Grayson opened the door, walking in and placing his guitar propped up on his side table.

“You definitely were acting out today, Gray.” Nash drawled, crossing his arms as he got up from his spot on the bed, and giving him a look.

“That’s one way to put it.” Grayson eventually said, running a hand through his wet-yet-drying-now hair. Nash made a noise at the back of his throat, before sitting back down on the bed, strumming his guitar again.

“So what were you and Lyra up to?” Nash asked. His tone was innocent, but Grayson knew what he was implying. Grayson shrugged.

“Nothing. She lectured me about what happened, and then I walked her back to the house. That’s all.” Grayson said. Nash nodded, turning his gaze to his guitar again. Grayson took this as his cue to leave, and, just as he was about to walk through the door, Nash’s voice made him halt to a stop.

“Right. And where’s your suit jacket, huh, Gray?” Nash drawled. Grayson paused, turning to meet his gaze with a raised brow. Nash’s eyes were twinkling, and he stopped strumming his guitar as he got up, putting it down and strolling over to Grayson. “Lemme guess: she has it?” Grayson paused, as if thinking.

“No,” He lied, “I just must have forgotten it near the cliff side.” Nash gave him a look.

“I’m sure you did. So, if I get up early tomorrow morning and scour the cliff side, including the beach, you’re telling me I’m going to find it just sitting there on the ground?” Nash asked, stepping closer as he crossed his arms.

“Unless it’s blown into the water, then yes.” Grayson again lied. He hated lying to his brothers, but he knew that if he admitted to giving Lyra his jacket, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. “It’s just a coincidence.” Grayson held Nash’s gaze, until Nash raised a shoulder and walked back towards his bed.

“Oh, and Grayson?” He drawled, pausing to turn around once more and give him a look. Then, Nash stepped forward, took Graysons arm, and pushed his sleeve down, revealing a small black elastic. “That a coincidence too?” Grayson jerked his hand away, giving Nash’s teasing grin an ice cold and unbothered stare.

“She dropped it. I’m giving it back to her once it’s not covered in sand.” Grayson said with a raised brow, as he tried to be as calm as possible. Nash gave him another shrug, before walking to his bed and lying down on it, his ankles crossed and his hands behind his head.

“I’m sure you are, Gray. But don’t go lying to yourself that this little…” Nash paused, before continuing. “Preoccupation you have with Lyra is nothing.” Grayson paused. He could give a sharp answer and shut it down. But he couldn’t deny the way that the steady beat of his heart began to thump faster the second Nash spoke her name. He turned and walked out without a word, shutting the door and hearing a “you’re welcome” from Nash as he did. His… preoccupation with Lyra was none of his brother’s business.

It wasn’t anybody’s. Nobody’s except for his and Lyra’s, if she saw in him what Grayson sees in her. He didn’t know how any of this was supposed to work out. After all, he was a Hawthorne, and Hawthornes are known to be unforgivably cruel to those who aren’t family. Lyra’s father was a prime example of that. Yet still, he could see a silhouette of a future in which the past didn’t control them.

Where they could make their own choices.

Grayson told himself, when he finally winded down to go to sleep that night, that all he’d see is pitch black darkness before waking up.

But as soon as amber eyes and a voice meant to soothe even the worst of man kind itself began to flash through his mind unconscious mind, he knew that he was only lying to himself.

——————————————————————————

if you sent me an ask MONTHS ago and you’re seeing this fic that i made without anybody requesting me to…. no you didn’t 😊😊

[hellobykittys]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐈𝐌)𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍 ✦ 𝐂𝐋¹⁶

SUMMARY: Charles Leclerc, a Formula 1 star, faces the decline of his reputation after breaking up with art curator Alexandra Saint Mleux. Under pressure from his team, he is forced into a fake relationship with one of the most popular influencers of the moment. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. WC: 2.6k WARNING: enemies to lovers, teasing, fake relationship

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

The meeting room was lit by cold lights reflecting off an impeccably clean glass table. Charles Leclerc sat at the head, his chin resting on his hand, visibly bored. The tension in the air was thick, and he already knew this meeting wasn’t going to end well. Around the table, members of Ferrari’s PR team sat, along with Lorenzo Leclerc, Charles’ older brother and personal manager.

“Let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, crossing his arms. His voice carried the firmness of someone tired of useless discussions. “Charles, we need to talk about your reputation.”

Charles rolled his eyes, setting his phone down on the table.

“My reputation? You mean the circus the media makes out of everything I do?”

“It’s not a circus if you keep giving them material,” Sofia, Ferrari’s PR head, cut in. A woman with short hair and piercing eyes, Sofia was known for her blunt and impatient approach.

“Seriously?” Charles raised an eyebrow. “Now you want to control my personal life too?”

Lorenzo sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Charles, we’re not here to debate who’s right or wrong. We’re here because your image is directly affecting your career.”

“My career’s fine,” Charles shot back, crossing his arms.

Sofia slammed a folder full of tabloid clippings on the table, making a sharp noise.

“Is it? Because from what we see here, it doesn’t look like it. ‘Charles Leclerc spotted at a party until 5 AM with a mysterious model.’ ‘Ferrari driver involved in a new controversy after a fight at a club.’ This affects the sponsors, Charles. It affects the Ferrari brand.”

Charles leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face.

“Look, I get it. But what do you want me to do? Lock myself in my house?”

“Not exactly,” Sofia replied with a cold smile that made Charles immediately suspicious.

Lorenzo cleared his throat, trying to soften what was coming.

“Charles, we’ve come up with a solution that could help clean up your image quickly while you focus on what really matters: your performance on the track.”

“Great. So, what’s the plan?” he asked, clearly impatient.

Sofia leaned forward, clasping her hands on the table.

“We’re going to put you in a fake relationship.”

The silence that followed was so deep that you could hear the clock ticking on the wall. Charles blinked a few times, sure he’d misunderstood.

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“We’re not,” Sofia replied, serious. “The idea is simple. We want to associate your image with a public figure who’s seen as positive, inspiring, and… balanced.”

“You want me to fake being in love with someone to save my reputation? This is ridiculous!”

“It’s not that simple, Charles,” Lorenzo tried to intervene. “We’re not asking you to fall in love. It’s a contract. An agreement. None of this has to be real.”

Charles laughed humorlessly, shaking his head.

“And who’s this poor soul you’ve hired for this?”

Sofia smiled, clearly expecting this question.

“Y/N.”

The name hit the silence like a shot. Charles frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard it. It didn’t take long before the girl’s face popped into his mind. She was impossible to ignore on social media, with her impeccable style, viral videos, and appearances at fashion and entertainment events.

“You’re talking about that… influencer?” he asked, incredulous.

“Not just any influencer. She’s the influencer right now,” Sofia corrected. “Everyone loves her. She’s elegant, charismatic, and has a solid fanbase. Associating with her will change the public’s perception of you.”

“You want me to fake dating a girl I barely know and who probably thinks race cars are just fancy toys?” Charles shot back, irritated.

Lorenzo took a deep breath, visibly trying to stay calm.

“Charles, no one’s saying it’ll be easy. But think of it as a strategy. Y/N isn’t just an influencer. She’s professional, ambitious, and has as much to gain from this as you do.”

“Great. So, she’s doing it for personal gain too,” Charles said sarcastically.

Sofia rolled her eyes.

“This isn’t about what she wants, it’s about what you need.”

Charles sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the table. The idea seemed absurd. He didn’t want to give up his freedom for some farce that, deep down, made no sense to him.

“You guys must be crazy if you think I’ll agree to this,” Charles declared, suddenly standing up. His voice echoed through the room, but no one seemed surprised by his reaction.

Lorenzo sighed, already expecting this kind of response. He knew his brother too well to think he’d accept something so outside his comfort zone without resistance.

“Charles, sit down,” Lorenzo said, his voice firm and authoritative. “You have every right to be angry, but if you keep acting like a spoiled child, you won’t get anywhere.”

“A spoiled child?” Charles laughed darkly, pointing at his brother. “This coming from you, trying to convince me to join this ridiculous show. It’s my life, Lorenzo! I’m not a puppet for you guys to manipulate.”

Sofia intervened, trying to stay professional, but her patience was clearly wearing thin.

“Charles, understand this: we’re talking about your career. It’s not just about you. It’s about the team, the sponsors, the thousands of jobs that depend on Ferrari’s success. Formula 1 is a business, and in this business, your image is as important as your driving skills.”

“My driving skills should be the only thing that matters!” he shot back, pointing to himself. “I’m a driver. That’s what I do. I’m not a celebrity who needs a fake romance to get attention.”

“Don’t be naive, Charles,” Sofia replied coldly. “In today’s world, public perception is everything. You could be the best driver on the grid, but if your image keeps getting tied to scandals, no one will want to invest in you.”

Lorenzo crossed his arms, looking at his brother seriously.

“You know she’s right. You don’t have to like the idea, but you have to accept that it’s necessary.”

Charles took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but the knot in his throat only tightened. He hated the idea of being seen as someone who couldn’t control his own life, but Lorenzo and Sofia had a point: the external pressure was becoming unbearable.

“Why her?” he asked, his voice a little quieter.

Sofia gave a slight smile, as though she’d been waiting for this question.

“Because Y/N is exactly what you need. She has an impeccable reputation, knows how to handle the media, and most importantly, knows how to play the game.”

“And how are you so sure she’ll agree to this?” Charles asked, crossing his arms.

“We’ve already talked to her,” Lorenzo revealed. “She agreed. Obviously, she has her conditions, but she’s willing to collaborate.”

Charles laughed, incredulous.

“Of course she agreed. She’s probably loving the idea of being associated with me. She’ll gain even more followers and the ‘Wag’ title. That must be her dream.”

“Don’t underestimate Y/N,” Sofia warned. “She’s far from being a superficial girl. If she agreed, it’s because she saw value in the proposal, just like we did.”

Charles fell silent for a moment, processing everything that had been said. He felt a mix of anger, frustration, and, in a way, helplessness. He hated being put against the wall, but he knew refusing wouldn’t solve his problems.

“And how long is this going to last?” he asked, his disgust evident.

“The contract is for a year,” Lorenzo answered. “Long enough to solidify the lie, but short enough not to be unsustainable.”

“And what if it doesn’t work?”

“It will work,” Sofia assured him confidently.

Charles let out a heavy sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“I hate you guys.”

“Feel free to hate us all you want,” Lorenzo replied, standing up. “But do what needs to be done.”

Sofia grabbed the folder and gave one last look at Charles.

“Y/N will be here tomorrow to talk officially. Hope you’re ready.”

With that, everyone began to leave the room, leaving Charles alone. He slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that, like it or not, his life was about to change.

The meeting room was spacious and well-lit, with glass walls offering a panoramic view of the city. Charles Leclerc was already there, on time this time, sitting next to the conference table in a relaxed yet attentive posture. He was casually flipping through a document, but his mind was elsewhere. The decision to accept the deal still felt surreal.

When the door opened, he lifted his eyes and saw Y/N entering with confident steps. She looked calm, self-assured. She wore a fitted blazer and pants that accentuated her confident posture. Her perfume reached him before her voice, subtle yet striking.

“Hope I’m not late,” she said, placing her bag on a chair and giving Charles a brief glance before looking away.

“You’re not,” he replied, giving a slight nod, observing her carefully.

Lorenzo and Sofia entered right after, carrying folders and an air of seriousness.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here, let’s get straight to the point,” Lorenzo began, taking his seat at the head of the table. “You both know how important this partnership is, both for the team and for your respective careers.”

“It’s not like we have much of a choice, right?” Y/N commented, not aggressively, but with a touch of realism.

“Not exactly,” Sofia answered, unfazed. “But we expect you to see the mutual benefit in this.”

Charles leaned his elbows on the table and glanced at Y/N for a moment before speaking.

“And you? What do you think of all this?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the direct question, but maintained her composure.

“I think it’s… unexpected. But I won’t deny it’s an opportunity. And you?”

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering.

“I think it could work, as long as we follow a few rules.”

“Rules?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” he answered, with a slight smile. “Like, don’t try to kill me in front of the cameras.”

Y/N let out a short laugh, almost genuine.

“I think I can follow that.”

Lorenzo interrupted, trying to keep the focus.

“Great. Let’s start by clarifying expectations. You’ll need to attend events together, create interactions for social media, and above all, look natural.”

“Does that mean we need to get to know each other better?” Y/N asked, looking directly at Charles, this time with less provocation and more curiosity.

“Probably,” he replied, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary.

Sofia cleared her throat.

“For that, we recommend starting with something simple. A dinner, maybe. Nothing formal, just so you get used to being together outside a professional setting.”

Y/N looked away, pretending to think, but there was something uncomfortably intimate about the idea.

“Seems fair,” she finally said, grabbing a pen to sign the contract placed in front of her.

Charles didn’t say anything but let the corner of his mouth curve into a slight smile. He grabbed his own copy of the contract and signed it right after her.

When they finished, Lorenzo looked at both of them.

“Perfect. From now on, you’re officially a couple.”

Lorenzo’s statement hung in the air like an uncomfortable reminder of what had just been signed. Y/N grabbed her bag, ready to leave, but hesitated at the door.

“Charles?” she called, without turning around.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t plan on complicating this, but I hope you do your part.”

Charles adjusted his watch nonchalantly, as if this kind of deal was something he had mastered.

“I always do.” A discreet smile formed on his lips. “But maybe we should establish a few rules to make sure it works.”

“It’s so nice to see you both so… invested!” Sofia interrupted, letting out a light laugh. “But I’ll leave the details to you two. Just don’t kill each other, please.”

Lorenzo stood up shortly after, giving his brother a nearly conspiratorial look before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. When he said goodbye to Y/N, he smiled warmly, as if to say, “Good luck.”

Once the room was silent, Charles broke it with a casual tone.

“So, about those rules…”

Y/N crossed her arms, clearly determined to make everything crystal clear from the start.

“The first limit is simple: don’t touch or kiss me without prior notice.”

Charles raised an eyebrow, surprised, but entertained by her firmness.

“You do realize that’s basically what couples do, right? Touch, kiss, look close… How are we supposed to convince anyone we’re real if we’re so mechanical?”

“I never said it was forbidden,” she corrected, remaining calm. “I’m just saying, don’t do it without a reason or without letting me know first.”

He chuckled softly, tilting his head slightly.

“Do you really think I’m interested in anything beyond what this contract requires?” He stepped forward, not breaking eye contact. “What happened at the club was just an impulse, not a sign that I’m in love with you.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, as if analyzing every word he said.

“Great. Then it shouldn’t be hard to keep your hands and lips off me.”

Charles opened his mouth to retort but stopped when he saw the look in her eyes. It was a clear challenge, with something more hidden behind that confidence.

“Of course,” he replied, finally curving his lips into a nearly provocative smile. “But I’ve got my conditions too.”

Y/N adjusted the strap of her bag on her shoulder, unfazed.

“Alright, go ahead.”

“You have to attend my races whenever you can. And when you can’t, show support on social media. It’s the least I expect.”

She let out an incredulous laugh.

“I’m gonna be your fake girlfriend, not your number one fan.”

“As my girlfriend, you should show support. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Plus, my fans will love it. It’ll be good for our image.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but knew he had a point.

“Fine, but I’ve got commitments too. Don’t expect me to be at every race.”

Charles shrugged, still with that annoyingly confident smile.

“It’s a start.”

Silence fell between them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. It was as if both were evaluating the other, trying to figure out what was coming next.

Y/N adjusted her bag again and took two steps toward the door before stopping.

“One more thing, Charles.”

“What?” He raised an eyebrow, curious.

“If you want this to work, stop trying to always have the last word.”

He smiled, a mix of challenge and amusement.

“That’s asking too much.”

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head before finally walking out of the room.

Charles stood there for a moment, staring at the door she had just walked through. There was something about her that made him feel intrigued, and he knew this story was far from simple.

Outside the building, Y/N got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. “This is going to be more complicated than I thought,” she mused as the driver started the engine.

Back inside, Charles picked up his phone and quickly sent a message to Lorenzo.

Charles: “If she thinks she can challenge me, this is going to be fun.”

On the other side, Lorenzo just laughed as he read the message.

[comflexxed]

june’s fingers paused on the corner of the album as hans’ words settled in the air. the image of sunny with her oversized sunglasses lingered in his mind, even though he hadn’t been there to witness it. there was something about the tenderness in hans’ voice, the way he so naturally remembered every detail about his daughter’s small moments, that tugged at something deep inside june.

but when hans turned the question to him, june hesitated, his eyes flickering toward the coffee table as if he could find the right words hidden somewhere in the grain of the wood. "i do have photos," he admitted quietly. his tone softened, introspective. "not nearly as many as this, though." he gestured to the album with a faint smile. "and they’re... scattered. different places, different faces."

his voice caught for a moment before he forced himself to continue, his tone lighter this time. "there’s this one picture of me when i was about sunny’s age, standing in front of a diner. my face is covered in ketchup because i was dunking fries into the bottle. it’s silly, but it’s my favorite." he chuckled at the thought, shaking his head.

june cleared his throat, breaking the heaviness that settled in the room. he looked at hans then, his gaze steady but softened by the weight of the conversation. "you’re right about pictures," he said, almost as if to himself. "they’re not just memories — they’re proof. proof that we were there, that those moments mattered."

june’s was caught off guard, not expecting the sudden shift in energy by hans. there was something about the way he held the photo albums, the excitement in his expression, that felt so uniquely him. june nodded slowly, unsure if he could trust his own voice to respond without faltering.

when the albums were handed over, he turned the cover with care, his fingers brushing against the edges. the first photo greeted him with sunny’s unmistakable grin—gap-toothed, bright-eyed, and radiating pure joy. june couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “well you weren’t kidding,” he said softly, flipping through the pages. each photo was like stepping into a new chapter of their lives. there were messy birthday cakes, finger-painted masterpieces, and impromptu naps with peachy nestled close. june’s fingers stilled on one particular image: sunny perched on hans’ shoulders, both of them mid-laugh, caught in a moment that was so genuine.

“she’s lucky,” june murmured, his voice was quiet but firm. “to have you. to grow up with someone who loves her this much.” he didn’t lift his eyes from the page, unsure if he was ready to face the weight of hans’ reaction.

[bitethedevil]

The True Meaning of Fear

Warnings: NSFW, Arachnophobia, Choking, Very Violent Oral, Abusive behaviour, Fear Play, Non-Con, Devils Who Are Deviling.

AN: I'm having fun writing more angsty and loving stuff for other characters like I mentioned in my update post, but sometimes you just got to write some fucked up Raphael stuff to clear your palate a bit. Seriously: mind the warnings. It’s…yeah…pretty fucked. I will be seeking professional help and saying some Hail Mary's to repent for my sins🚶‍♀️‍➡️Enjoy! 🫶

”Pleeease, Raphael,” she sobbed. ”It won’t happen again. I promise.”

“Please what?” he asked with a smile and a soft tone that made him seem like the perfect image of innocence. “We are only having a conversation …”

She was not buying this attempt at lulling her into a false sense of security. She knew him. He had brought her to a cell in the bowels of the House of Hope. Had he simply wanted to talk, he would now have done it here.

“I will ask you again,” he said, still in that soft tone. “What did you see?”

She gave a small sob and shook her head. His yellow eyes narrowed slightly at her, but the smile stayed on his lips. He was in the cell with her too, on a chair in front of her sobbing form on the floor.

“What was it that frightened my little bird so much that she neglected all of her duties? I do so hate to repeat myself…”

Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to hold in more tears.

He had come home to find his house in complete disarray. Multiple dead debtors had laid scattered across the floor, as they had tried to defend the house against intruders. He had found her shaking in the corner of his office. A powerful fear spell had made her hide instead of dealing with the intruders or alarming Raphael.

He had been furious when he found her. He had lost a small fortune in gold and an invaluable staff that dated back to the early days of the Netheril Empire. He had yelled at her, but due to her fearful state, he did not receive the reaction he wanted. She had been too out of it to properly react to his words, so he took her here instead.

She could see from the way his tail flicked and the way he drummed his claws on the arm of the chair that he was running out of patience. She had to give him an answer.

“Death,” she lied and dried her tears with her sleeve. “I saw my own death.”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards in an amused smile and gave a huff of laughter.

“Death, hm?” he repeated. “Are you truly such a simple creature? I find that difficult to believe. If death was what you feared the most, you would not dare lying to my face in such a manner. Try again. The truth this time, if you would be so kind.”

She started shaking again and she could feel her skin become clammy. She had a good idea what would happen if she told him. She also knew what he would do to her if she did not. It was hard to decide which was worse.

“Come now,” he said, his tone softer again. “You will receive no judgment from me. Is it something embarrassing? Something completely irrational? Those do tend to be my favorites…”

She remained quiet.

“Or,” he said and looked at her with a bored expression. “I could bring the Omuan dreamcatcher in here, present you to every fear known to man, and I can deduce what it is from there. I’m certain that Hope would not mind if we borrowed it for the day.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No-no. Please don’t.”

She had seen how Hope had been after her time with the dreamcatcher. She was an empty shell of a person after those sessions.

She swallowed hard and looked at the floor in front of her.

“Spiders,” she admitted quietly. “I’ve never liked spiders…”

“Ah,” Raphael said with a satisfied smile. “A classic.”

She looked around. Her skin was tingling at the thought. She was already becoming paranoid.

“When did you acquire this fear? Were you always afraid of them?”

Her hand shot to the back of her neck where she felt a tingle. Nothing. It had only been her hair touching her. Her skin was becoming increasingly sensitive.

“As a child,” she said.

“Do elaborate,” he purred with a smile.

Her breath hitched at the memory a bit.

“I was in my bed,” she explained. “I turned to lay on my back and looked at the ceiling. I saw it just before it fell down into my face.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “That does sound rather unpleasant.”

His eyes slowly turned upwards to look at the ceiling above her. She flinched and looked up. Nothing. Raphael chuckled at her movement.

“I can almost hear your heartbeat from over here,” he purred. “Such a pretty sound…”

“I beg you, Raphael,” she pleaded. “I’ll do anything. Just please don’t—”

“Shh-sh-sh,” he hushed gently. “We are only talking.”

He leaned forward slightly in his chair.

“I am a jealous man, my dear. It’s one of my less attractive qualities, I’m afraid, but it is so. So, you must understand how it irks me to find that your fear of me is only second to that of the eight-legged vermin you seem to hate so much.”

Her hand darted up to her hair where she scratched her scalp. She swore that she could feel them everywhere, even though she knew that it was only her fear that made her feel things. For now, anyway.

She felt something hit her shoulder from above and squealed. She brushed her shoulder in a panic and swore that she felt something furry touch her hand as she did. She quickly moved her body away from the wall she had been sitting against, closer to Raphael and let out a whine. Her eyes searched where she had just sat but once again: nothing.

“Tell me,” Raphael said in an amused tone. “What do you think causes this fear of yours?”

She was practically sitting between his legs now. He ran his claws slowly over her scalp and it made her shiver in her overstimulated state. She wrapped both her arms over her head like a stubborn child refusing to let their parents comb their hair. She knew that she was pathetic, but she could not control it at this point.

Raphael brushed two claws against the back of her neck in a featherlight touch, making her flinch again. He still wanted an answer, and maybe as long as she spoke, he would not do anything. She quickly tried to construct a sentence in her scattered mind.

“I—I don’t know,” she said. “Too many limbs maybe. I don’t know.”

“Well,” he said with a mocking laugh. “I am one limb short of eight in this form. That doesn’t make you fear me any more than your eight-legged friends, evidently. It must be something else, mustn’t it?”

His claws tapped her arm in a way that mimicked a spider’s legs, and she flinched away from him. She moved back to where she was sitting before. She could see on his face that he was enjoying every second of this.

His smile widened as he unstretched one hand and snapped his fingers with the other. A fat, long-legged spider hovered over his hand, and she started crying again. She did not want to look at it, but on the other hand, if she did not, she could not know where it was. She watched in horror as the small creature clumsily and frantically tried to move in the air but could not.

Raphael studied it with a bored gaze while she pleaded for him to stop.

“Have you ever noticed how the creatures humans fear irrationally are rarely mammalian?” he mused over her sobbing. “Spiders, insects, snakes, birds…I do suppose rats and mice are an exception, but there is a theme, isn’t there?”

She had backed herself into the corner of the room. She could not get further away, and she was still uncontrollably crying.

“Cats, dogs, horses…Feeble-minded creatures, but the human need to anthropomorphize makes you believe that they are perhaps not so different from yourself. A spider, on the other hand…”

She let out a long whine as he pinned the spider to one position in the air and made it hover slowly towards her face. She screamed when it came to a stop in front of her. Its legs were still moving, but it was facing her. She could not breathe.

“It’s scared,” Raphael cooed mockingly. “Terrified, like you. Yet you cannot sympathize with it. Your brain will not let you. So much for human compassion, hm?”

He got up from his chair. He snapped his fingers, and the spider disappeared. He leaned down slightly and loosely put his hand around her neck. The claw on his thumb dug into her as he tilted her head back to look at him.

“Look at me.”

She whimpered and looked up at his face.

“Tell me, my sweet,” he purred. “What is it like to stare into the eyes of a creature and realizing that they do not work like you? That they do not have feelings in any way that you understand them? That there is nothing human in there…”

She looked into those yellow eyes of his and felt the same way as he just described.

“Terrifying…” she muttered.

“Good,” he said in a low growl, smiling at her. “Terrifying, yes.”

He snapped his fingers, and she felt something on her shoulder. She frantically tried to move away, but Raphael’s grip around her neck tightened. He pushed her head back against the wall.

“Don’t. Move,” he said firmly. “You are not leaving this cell before you realize that the only thing in this world you will ever need to fear, is me. Serve me well, and you will never have to fear at all…”

She felt the spiders furry legs move slowly over her skin. She gasped for breath as her tears started rolling down her cheeks again. She knew that Raphael would not stop this before she did as he said. His grip loosened when he saw her freeze instead of continuing her attempt to flee.

He let go of her and stood up tall to admire her pathetic state on the floor. He began unbuttoning his doublet while he watched. She felt the spiders legs on her collarbone, slowly making its way across her chest. She sobbed quietly and did everything in her power not to move.

“I think it likes you,” Raphael purred in an amused tone.

He hung his doublet over the chair. He was only in his white shirt and pants, and she could now see just how excited the whole situation was making him. His erection strained against his pants. He walked closer to her so that he was now towering above her.

He slowly tipped her head back with a claw under her chin.

She screamed but the fear had now paralyzed her so much that she could not move even if she wanted to. There were hundreds of them above them on the ceiling, and they were all the size of a palm. The scream turned into a sob as she stared upwards.

He was smiling in an almost fond way as he feasted on her terrified expression. She felt his hand cup her cheek. He wiped the tears on her cheeks with his palm, before moving his hand to his now freed member. He gave it a few lazy strokes, using her tears to lubricate his length while he watched her with a heavy-lidded gaze. He gave a content sigh.

He put his thumb and index finger on each side of her jaw with his free hand, forcing her to open her mouth.

“If I feel teeth, I will show you the true meaning of fear,” he warned.

He ran the tip of his cock over her bottom lip, smearing his precum on her trembling mouth. He pressed his cock inside and her mouth closed around it. A deep groan escaped his mouth.

“Such a good girl,” he purred with a smile.

He began slowly moving in and out of her mouth with languid thrusts. His hand moved to where the spider had nestled in her cleavage to pick it up. He gently placed it on her head, making her sob around his cock. She choked as she forced herself not to bite him. He growled in pleasure.

“We are making such wonderful progress, my dear,” he said. His voice was slightly breathier and huskier now. “I believe that you are beginning to understand… Fear does not excuse negligence.”

Her eyes closed shut as she could feel the spider’s legs on her face. She whimpered, but the sound came to an abrupt end when he shoved his cock further down her throat. He gently shushed her and caressed her tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She could not breathe.

She gagged but he did not seem to care. The sounds she made, the way her crying and trembling was making her throat feel, the way she looked so utterly pathetic: it was pure bliss for him. He suddenly snapped his fingers. She felt the spider on her face disappear. Her eyes opened and she looked at the ceiling: nothing.

She did not get to revel in her relief before Raphael started fucking her face with hard, violent thrusts. His hand clasped around her throat again in a hard grip. She could not breathe at all, and she started squirming and panicking. Her limbs flailed as she tried to get away, but her back was up against the wall. There was nowhere to move.

She tried pushing him away, hitting his legs, but he was unmovable. She looked up at him with panicked and pleading eyes, and it only seemed to excite him further. He did not cease his violent assault on her face.

“I lost a small fortune,” he growled. “All because of a frightened, stupid, little girl.”

She tried everything to move, but his grip on her only tightened when she did. Soon, she would not have the energy to fight anymore. Her throat was hurting so much. The grim thought that this might be how she died flashed into her mind, making her panic even worse.

“Nothing would excite me more than watching the life leave your eyes,” he growled as if having read her thoughts. “Instead, I think I will let this be a reminder to you, dear girl: the next time you feel tempted to let your fear control you, remember what it gets you… Nothing.”

She stopped moving and she could feel herself slowly beginning to lose consciousness. He shoved his cock as far down her throat as it would go. Her nose was brushing against his pelvis. It was painful and she felt like throwing up. He gave a deep groan as he came down her throat.

She gasped for breath when he pulled out. She coughed hard. She spat a mix of blood, cum, and saliva onto the floor in front of her as she wheezed for breath. She felt like throwing up, but she couldn’t.

When she finally looked up, Raphael was watching her with a small smile as he began buttoning his doublet.

“I trust you have learned your lesson?”

She nodded quickly. She could not stop coughing, and every cough felt swallowing knives.

“Good,” he purred. “You did well…”

He turned and opened the door to the cell with a snap. She tried to scramble to her feet to follow him out. Just as she had gotten up off the floor, he stepped outside the cell and closed the door in her face.

He smirked as he looked at her for a long moment. Then his eyes slowly drifted to the ceiling above her. Her lips began trembling again as she kept looking at him.

“Korrilla will come get you in the morning,” he said in a cold, even tone. “If I have decided to forgive you by then…”

There was the softest thud as she felt something land on her shoulder. Then another on the floor. Then another as she felt something fall off her head. Then another.

There were no more tears in her, and no screams came out of her ruined throat. Just a quiet, broken wheeze came out of her mouth as she looked upwards.

[lynnsenpai]

So I was always kinda curious about this. Since Rain did eventually make public and chroncile her life as a trans woman online, I always wanted to know how Rain's former classmates outside of the Gay Table (Rain's close circle) reacted to the reveal that she's trans. Like, with Drew I can kinda guess how he reacted, probably initial surprise and then saying "I'm kinda used to this already."

Like Holly would be a fun one to imagine. Devon I don't know. Rob's reaction would be very interesting, he did have a crush on her at one point. The Vintage siblings (Madison and Aidyn) I'd kinda wanna know. Oh yeah, and Randy.

Just curious is all

I have a very clear image in my head of Debbie laughing out of pride because she totally called it... and then feeling kinda guilty about how she treated Rain back then. That said, she's still one of Emily's best friends, so Debbie may actually get a chance to apologize. I don't imagine her and Rain being particularly tight, but at least the bad blood can be cleared out. But she totally called it! Holly tries to correct Rain through the screen, "Emily is pantssexual. And you're trantsgender. Yeesh, learn the termilogimy!" Devon, it turns out, has a trans family member. Watching Rain's videos helps him adapt to this. Upon realizing Rain is trans, Rob has a massive crisis about what that means for his past feelings for her. Drew is quick to snark at him about how familiar this feels, but rather than continuing to tease, he assures Rob that this doesn't change anything. Rain was a girl then, and she's a girl now, so Rob is (likely) straight. Aidyn and Madison never really knew Rain that well, so while it's surprising, it doesn't change much for them. But once Aidyn gets to the prom night episode, he learns the truth about Ryan recontextualizing that whole night, years and years later. Aidyn feels bad about his behavior, and Madison never ever ever lets him live it down that he thought Ryan was cheating on him with Gavin. Randy makes a quiet nod of approval.

[horoscope1078]

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the room. You groaned, burying your face in the pillow as the memories of last night slowly came back. The music, the dancing, the drinks.. and of course, the bet. The ridiculous bet that you had been so confident about.

You rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, hoping the warmth would help soothe the lingering embarrassment creeping into your mind. But it didn’t. The image of Ruben’s teasing smirk flashed through your thoughts and you winced. You’d been so close.. way too close to stripping in front of him.. and at the last minute, you had chickened out.

Suddenly, you heard a soft knock at the door, followed by the sound of it creaking open. “Morning, amiga.” Ruben’s voice came, laced with amusement.

You peeked over the blanket to see him standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame, still looking annoyingly fresh despite the late night. He was wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, a clear reminder that, unlike you, he hadn’t spent the night tossing and turning in embarrassment.

“Don’t you knock?” you mumbled, pulling the blanket over your head, trying to disappear.

He chuckled and stepped further into the room. “I did knock. It’s not my fault you didn’t answer. Besides, you owe me a striptease, remember?”

You groaned again, feeling your face heat up. “Can we not talk about that?”

“Oh, we’re definitely talking about it.” he sat down at the edge of your bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. “I mean, you were the one who suggested it, after all.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually win!” you muttered, voice muffled under the blanket.

Ruben laughed, pulling the blanket down just enough to see your face. “Well, that’s your first mistake, underestimating me. And your second mistake? Chickening out.” He raised an eyebrow, his teasing tone impossible to miss. “You talk a big game but when it came down to it..”

You groaned louder, rolling onto your back and staring up at the ceiling, trying to will the moment away. “I didn’t chicken out!”

Ruben’s grin only widened. “Oh, no? Because I distinctly remember someone standing there, about to take off their shirt and then suddenly..” he snapped his fingers. “Boom. They changed their mind.”

You closed your eyes, mortified as the flashback hit you.

It had started out as a joke, a little bit of fun to keep the night interesting. After he’d gotten the phone number and claimed victory, you had fully intended to follow through. You’d made your way back to his place, still feeling the buzz of the alcohol and the excitement of the night. The playful energy had carried over and soon enough, you were standing in the middle of his living room, giggling as you toyed with the hem of your shirt.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” you had laughed, glancing over at Ruben, who had leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, his eyes glinting with amusement.. and something else.

“Go on then.” he had teased, clearly enjoying watching you squirm. “Don’t hold back.”

You had slowly started to lift your shirt, exposing your stomach as you swayed to the imaginary music, your confidence wavering. But then, just as the shirt had reached your ribs, your nerve had faltered. The heat in Ruben’s gaze, the way he was looking at you with such intensity.. it had made your stomach flip. You’d yanked the shirt back down and burst out laughing, backing away as you muttered something about needing more drinks.

And now, in the morning light, that laughable moment felt much less funny.

Ruben leaned closer, his face inches from yours as he tried to meet your eyes. “So, what was it, huh? You get cold feet? Realised you couldn’t handle the pressure?”

You pushed him away, though you couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, shut up. I just.. I wasn’t in the mood, ok?”

“Sure, sure.” he said, the smirk never leaving his face. “Or maybe, you just couldn’t handle the idea of me seeing you lose twice in one night.”

You threw a pillow at him, which he caught with ease. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself.”

“Hey, don’t be mad at me because you couldn’t follow through on your own bet.” he teased, standing up and tossing the pillow back onto the bed. “But don’t worry, I’m not gonna hold it over you.. much.”

You rolled your eyes, sitting up and wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Can you blame me?” he asked, flashing that mischievous grin again. “Seeing you all flustered is worth more than any striptease, honestly.”

You tossed another pillow at him, laughing despite yourself. “Alright, alright. I admit it. I chickened out.”

Ruben’s expression softened slightly, though the teasing glint never fully left his eyes. “Don’t worry, amiga. I won’t tell anyone.” he mimed zipping his lips. “Our little secret.”

“Gee, thanks.” you said dryly, though you couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips.

He shrugged, standing up and heading toward the door. “Well, I’ll let you recover from your defeat in peace. But, just so you know..” he paused in the doorway, glancing back at you. “Next time you make a bet, make sure you’re ready to back it up.”

You rolled your eyes again but your heart did a little flip at the way he winked before disappearing down the hallway. You sank back into the pillows with a sigh, the teasing memory lingering in the air.

Maybe next time, you’d make a bet you could actually win, or maybe, just maybe, you’d be ready to see it through.

:)

[dumpsterfire-daydreams]

Sexual content, Sex, TW: Minor flashbacks (just hearing Ghost's words in her head and short memories), Sexual frustration, Sexual conflict, Internal conflict, TW: Feelings of shame surrounding reader's kink, Concerned König, Self-Sacrificing König, Ashamed Reader, Guilt-ridden Reader

Let the suffering begin...

Reader POV:

After lunch, you followed König to his room. You really needed a shower. Both of you did. But due to the demands of his schedule, it seemed such luxuries would have to wait a bit longer. All he had was a few minutes to change into more appropriate clothing. But the second his shirt had hit the floor, things had quickly veered off in an entirely different direction. Arousal had kicked in, and there was nothing either of you were willing to do to stop it. He was on top of you on the bed, planting heated kisses all over your body as his hands roamed. And you weren’t any better off. You tugged off your shirt, eager to expose more skin for him to ravish.

“Does this feel good?” He panted excitedly against your ear.

His hand slowly trailed up your inner thigh, sending a flurry of pleasant tingles down your spine. You nodded, relishing the feeling of his hand edging closer to the apex of your legs. But out of nowhere, the mood changed. Your mind suddenly flickered back to the previous night. And despite hearing König’s voice in your ear, all you could see was Ghost’s face. The image of him towering over you, pressing you firmly against the wall. His hot breath on your neck as he slipped his fingers into your core. The needy moans or unfiltered desire that he’d pulled from your mouth all too easily. The pungent scent of smoke and danger flooding your senses. The words of passion he’d hissed into your ear as he made your body writhe in pleasure.

“You’ll never get over me. I will haunt your mind day and night until you finally break and come crawling back for more.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to push the unwanted thoughts out of your mind. Above you, you felt König go still. He paused, freezing in place as his eyes scanned your face. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you moaned, clearing your mind and trying to focus on only him. “Don’t stop,”

Once he was certain you were still on board with it, König slowly continued towards his goal. Before long, you were moaning his name again as he slowly tugged the rest of your clothes off. You met his eyes, filled with a desperate hunger as he did the same with his own clothing. For a moment, the two of you just sat there staring at each other. His eyes raked over the length of your body before slowly rising back to your face. And he shivered in anticipation as you returned the favor. God, seeing him like this would never get old. His massive figure eclipsing yours from above, the defined muscles just begging to be touched and caressed. And those hands. There was truly no end to the long list of things you yearned for them to do to you. You reached out, gripping his erection in your hand and enjoying the hissed moan that the action earned. König panted a bit, staring down at your hand as you ran your thumb over the sensitive head.

“Ah, your hands are s-so perfect,” he moaned, thrusting lightly into your hand. “So small around my cock. You touch me just right.”

“I could say the same,” you grinned, gently grabbing hold of his.

You guided it between your legs before tugging him down on top of you. His hand cupped your sex, massaging it with his palm before dipping his fingers between your delicate folds. He touched you with reverence and care, pushing his fingers in and out of your wetness like an act of worship.

“We have to hurry,” he moaned in your ear. It was something you both already knew, but he was trying to remind himself too. From the way he touched you, you knew he never wanted to leave. But he began grinding his groin against your thigh. “God. You feel so good, Maus.”

You giggled, wiggling your hips to add to his pleasure. “Then what are you waiting for?”

König whimpered, shifting to wrap your legs around his waist. “I’ve been craving this all morning,” he panted, smirking down at you. “Every second of combat training, I had to work hard to keep my focus. It took everything I had not to claim you right then and there.”

“Oh fuck,” you moaned.

His words sharply increased your arousal. But with that pleasure came a pang of anguish. You knew he wasn’t lying to you. You knew he likely had wanted you that badly. But at the same time, you also knew they were just words. Words that he would never truly act on. And you weren’t sure if he realized that exact scenario was exactly what you wanted. What you needed. For him to grab you at a moment’s notice and rail you with unbridled impatience. To really claim you.

Your internal spiraling screeched to a halt as König pushed into you. Your back arched at the fullness, eager to feel him as deep as he could go. The unsuspecting words he’d hissed into your ear moments before still stoked your desire and you found yourself desperate for his pace to increase. But despite your efforts from below, his thrusts remained slow and intentional as he savored your warmth.

“More,” you moaned through gritted teeth. “I need more. Fuck me, König. I can take it.”

He panted, his chest bumping against your breasts as he continued the steady rhythm. And your pleasure increased all the more when his hands gripped your hips, tugging you against his body. Every re-entry made your mind go fuzzy as arousal pulled you under. But the ravenous hunger for roughness had erupted deep within you. And as the burning desire raged on within, there was nothing you could do to contain it. You were desperate to satiate that rampant need.

“Faster,” you whined, tightening your legs around him. “It's okay, you can go faster.”

König hissed as you pulled him even deeper within you, but he did not increase his pace. “Bitte, let me savor you. I don’t want to rush this more than we have to.”

You felt your body involuntarily tense as Ghost returned to your mind uninvited.

“The next time you find your lover lacking? The next time he tells you no? I want you to remember this. How good you felt. How hours with him were nothing compared to just a few minutes with me.”

You could hear König’s moans vibrating against your chest. You could feel his eagerness, his excitement. But suddenly, everything was just too overwhelming. It was all too much. The sexual frustration was starting to set in. And as tears began to well up, you knew you had to pump the breaks.

“Stop!” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut again in an effort not to burst into tears. “I-I want to stop.”

König responded immediately, ceasing all movement as he looked up at you in surprise. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you? What’s wrong?”

“I’m okay,” you stammered. “I just- I just need a minute.”

König pulled out and sat down next to you as you slowly sat up. Though he was doing his best to hide it, you could see the mild disappointment in his eyes. And you hated to deny him this moment of pleasure. It only made you feel that much worse. But you just couldn’t deal with everything you were feeling in that moment. And no one deserved lackluster sex. You couldn’t do that to him.

“Be honest with me,” König said, his voice soft and full of worry. “I need to know what’s wrong. Maybe I can fix it?”

You slumped over, dropping your head in your hands. “No, you can’t fix it. We’ve been over this already. I’m just having a really hard time right now.”

“Oh,” he said quietly, clarity dawning on him. “I understand.”

Heavy silence filled the room. In the blink of an eye, a moment of intimate vulnerability and passion had immediately shifted to uncomfortable distance. Nothing felt the way it was supposed to. Nothing felt right. You felt hopeless, broken, and ashamed. Here you were with the man of your dreams, ready and willing to make love to you. But just one little kink, one little fantasy was ruining everything.

“I didn’t know your desire for roughness was so… strong.” König looked away.

“I didn’t either. But I can’t stop it. I’m really trying. I’m trying so hard. But I can’t stop wanting it, König. I don’t know how. I don’t even know if I can.”

“Maybe we can spar every now and then? I’ll spar with you in the mornings if you want. Let you release some of that pent-up aggression? And then maybe that will meet that need. Maybe we can separate the two - have roughness then and let our intimacy just be for good feelings.”

You knew he meant well. He was trying his best to help and the gesture was so very sweet. But still, you felt a part of you die. This was it. This was final. This was just the way it was going to be, no matter what happened. You were doomed to live out your life with him with a gaping hole where your sexual needs were. You weren’t craving roughness in hand-to-hand combat. If it was that simple, your match with Ghost would have been more than enough to ease your hunger. But you still needed raw passion. The desire to be wanted so desperately that he couldn’t hold himself back. You wanted to feel just how much he craved you for days after he was through with you. You wanted your body to bear indelible marks of how he claimed you, so the whole world could see you were his. And even with all the love in the world, you didn’t know how much longer you could go on without that. Especially with thoughts of Ghost constantly emerging in your mind.

“It’s not the same,” you sighed. “I know you’re trying to help. And I appreciate it. But it's more complicated than that. I can’t really explain it…”

König pulled you into a hug, doing his best to soothe you. Though you had successfully held your tears at bay, a few pitiful sniffles still escaped. But you were grateful for the gesture and did your best to calm yourself down. Though he tried to make the motion inconspicuous, you saw him quickly glance down at his watch. You had already tempted fate the previous night, and you didn’t want to end up getting him in trouble because of you.

“You should go to practice,” you sighed, sitting up. “I don’t wanna make you late.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to leave things like this.” König rubbed your back, gazing down at you.

There was so much worry and concern in his eyes. But there was a bit of hurt in them, too. And it was that detail that made you look away. You hated this whole situation. What it was doing to you and to him. It was never your desire to hurt him. And knowing that you had sent guilt coursing through your veins. What the hell was wrong with you?

“I’ll be okay,” you sniffled, wiping your face. “I just need a minute and I’ll be fine. We can try again tonight and I’ll be back to my usual self again. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” König sighed, standing and silently getting dressed. “I don’t want to just start having sex again, though. I want us to take a break for a while and try to sort this out first before we try again, okay? This is much deeper than I understood. And I want to make sure you’re really okay before I touch you again.”

Knowing he was willing to forgo all sexual contact out of concern for you only added to your guilt. He still had needs. And even now, he was still evidently aroused. But he dutifully tucked himself away in his pants and was determined to ignore it until the feelings faded. You felt so guilty leaving him like that. And you were in no state to have sex right now. Not unless you really wanted to fall apart. But now, he was going to be made to suffer and go without. All because of you. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. This wasn’t how this was ever supposed to go.

“Are you still going to join us?” He asked, handing you your shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

You nodded, receiving the clothes. But you placed them on the bed beside you, lacking the energy to try to dress yourself at the moment. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit. I just need a minute to clear my head.”

“Okay,” he nodded, grabbing his gear and heading for the door. “We’ll talk about this more later, okay? Everything will be okay. I love you, Maus.”

Though you nodded and did you best to believe him, you were filled with a sense of dread. Based on how you were feeling right now, everything was not okay. And you had a creeping suspicion that more conversation would only make things worse. So, as he waved goodbye and slowly closed the door behind him, you curled up on his bed and let yourself cry. Why did this have to be so hard?

[lifenconcepts]

LIFE AND DEATH! For @canines-crown depicting the concepts as tangible forms, representing both wolf and I :)

Made with the silly “my favourite character x character trope” but ended up turning into just art of our concet selves. Hehhehdhdhjd. The text reads:

MY FAVOURITR CONCEPT TO SYMBOL(ism) TROPE: A natural process without enemies nor villains.

DEATH: Gentle & Compassionate. “It must be done”. Rest, child. All will go.

LIFE: Sporadic & Intense. “survive and thrive!”. Run, child. All has purpose.

more information under the cut

This took me just a little over an hour and a half to draw (the most I’ve spent on any piece of art. Period.) and I’m gosh darn proud! Very happy to be able to make this for you and now with the symbolism because I’m not satisfied with just giving you the finished art..

The foxglove and wolfsbane depicted on the right are a representation of just how merciless life can be and that something beautiful and seemingly innocent may bring along a harsh fate, a field vole depicted by the wolfsbane (technically not the right name but I like how it sounds) is a symbol of fragility of life and how curiosity is a given and yet can result in death. The dove, also a symbol of goodness, has been wounded and can be a stand in to the destructive nature of existence itself. The shroud and light above both figures faces both obstructs the identity but also acts as a key element in recognising them and I think speaks for itself (a looming darkness vs blinding light). On the left, alongside death, is the corpse of a long fallen deer, along with its fragility - it is now the source of life for carrion beetles, making it clear how in the end of one thing, there is beginining in another. Wolf also holds a hare, which clouded eyes and seeping blood make it clear it’s no longer breathing, and yet it is still being lovingly held and treated with kindness and respect. The fact that it has passed on is not of death’s fault and yet is now the responsibility that death must carry. Also, both are in a very specific position physically, Life - in a grassy marshlands that seems to be overgrown, and Death - in a more darkened and dulled over moss. Neither have any details in the body apart from human-like limbs and the beginning of a head, but for the most part is just the image of what personification could do to a concept. Ah, beautiful, ain’t it?

my personal thoughts on this piece is overall that I’m so proud of myself for doing this and hope you enjoy it! I did my best at incorporating different styles and techniques alongside a million brushes. I also utilised layers, ain’t that great!? Right. I do apologise though for the limited amount of space I had to draw both figures in so it seems a bit smushed together, but in truth, I also made the conscious decision of drawing you on the left, due to the psychology of things being read and seen by the masses from left to right, so even when someone scrolls by, the first conscious sight that their mind sees is you, or well, your representation.

And hey, I just wanted you to pay some attention to a few specifics:

[absensia]

A message had been received just as she’d gone for the day. One of the lower level lackeys had forwarded it straight to the boss instead of running it by her first — as previously instructed. Charlotte wasn’t mad about it. It was all part of the job and the fun of it, too.  But the bossman was mad and he was making it her problem. 

Last week,  they had closed on a contract with the de Luca clan to provide them with whatever artillery they'd need to defend themselves in what she anticipated to be one of the messiest attempts at a usurpation in recent mafia history. Raj had it in his head that this contract was something of a golden ticket, and in some ways it was. A deal with one of the top political players in the city,    Aronne de Luca,  meant extra pull not only with the state police, but whatever federal agents he inevitably had on his payroll, too.  More importantly,  it meant finally getting a seat at the high table and a respectable boost in influence,  power,  and justifiable ego. What it also meant,  however, was taking a rather big step in the wrong direction as far as ( every one of  )  Charlotte’s handlers were concerned. The idea was to weaken Raj’s foothold in this city so that that same root might be taken and planted elsewhere… 

So she’d played the saboteur.  She’d gone and sowed seeds of doubt and disgrace in the reality closest to the de Luca and his inner circle. The fabric of what they knew made to shift and change colours, curling in on itself before unfurling to reveal something new.   Something that hadn’t been known before but was now clear as a cloudless summer day. The message received had been nothing short of a searing insult poorly disguised as a proposed addendum to their prior agreement.

IF HE THINKS HE CAN TREAT ME LIKE I’M SOME FUCKING CHARITY CASE, — THEN FUCK HIM.  I’LL SHOW HIM FUCKING CHARITY.

By and by, Raj arrived at the very idea she’d begun to nurture in his mind two weeks prior: let de Luca say and do what he wanted because there was no stopping the small faction's try for usurpation except now, the weapons he would’ve had at his defense would be pointed right back at him. But what about the possible blowback? There was no guarantee of loyalty and reward from the uprising faction once the dust settled.   It’s a good point,  she told him.   But I’ll make sure to have something to sweeten the deal, and the rest we’ll leave to Ghost. You know he’ll have you covered, she assured him as she climbed the stairs to her floor.

One-handedly,  she unlocked the door to the suite, still reeling off more assurances to the coming plans.  Between her and Ghost,  everything would be handled — and this was true in more ways than one.  She flicked on the lights as she moved from room to room;   the suite was all too spacious for one person or,  maybe,  it just wasn’t what she was used to.  Unable to unglue the phone’s speaker - end from her ear lest she miss some tiny albeit crucial detail Raj let slip in the midst of his lecture, she resorted to twirling about in order to get her scarf and coat off.  With her elbow,  she flicked on the seating room’s light and stifled a scream.

Eyes bulged, teeth gnashed painfully, and she nearly swallowed her tongue with the effort to stay quiet.  Nigh involuntarily and with the force of the near - immediate impact of relief as she recognized the apparition standing stock-still in the centre of the suite,  Charlotte grabbed onto the back of an armchair and sunk down behind it,  mouthing a long string of curses before breathing out the sharp stress. She doubted Raj heard her given how he prattled on still in her ear.   After a moment and while her throat was still seized with fright, the agent pulled herself back up and continued to speak. Her voice was steady,  bright,  and confident as ever, even if the blood had yet to return to her face.

“  You got it,   ”    she said, stretching a smile across her lips to shape the words properly.   “  It’ll be on your desk by the time you get back tomorrow.   Don’t think about it for another sec,  boss.   Good night.   ”    She ended the call and let her arm fall lifeless to her side. Her gaze had never left Ghost’s face.   Without missing a beat, she continued.  “  The deal with de Luca’s off.   We’re going to arm the usurpers to the teeth,  instead,  and help them overturn the old man.  Raj wants to set up a meeting with de Luca to tell him all this, face - to - face, so that he can see his face when he breaks the news.   ”

THE HUMAN FACE IS A POWERFUL MESSENGER. / @0azrae7

A moment ago,  she was sure her own face had telegraphed an extremely powerful message. Now, it was completely blank as she stared back at the phantom. Then, Charlotte scoffed.   Then,  she grinned and laughed with genuine good-heartedness. “  Yeah!  You don’t say.   ”    She threw her coat over the back of the armchair,  then gestured vaguely at the space between her and Ghost. “   It’ll be a security nightmare,  but this was nicely done. Happy?   Glad to see you having fun!   ”   Even if it was at her expense. Charlotte was not above conceding when she’d been got. Another deep breath and her chest was finally free enough to laugh,  and laugh again she did,  her mind already moving onto the next important matter:   DINNER.    In the kitchenette, Charlotte switched on the stove light and looked back at Ghost.   “  Have you eaten?   ”

[velvetwyrme]

aHhh okay so the discussions of Titan!Megatron on @callsign-relic's blog have fully. FULLY taken over my brain and ive been drawing stuff for it for like the last few days nonstop

the tl;dr of this is AU is pretty much "what if Megatron got turned into a titan/cityformer as a form of penance/imprisonment and now roams the empty wasteland of Cybertron forever" plus "IDW Megatron has really fucked up internals so... what if that, but as a City?"

and of course since he's a Titan, that also means he has a cityspeaker... or three. One per sub-AU thing. Theres 3 options. 3 flavours of AU.

i have so much art to make. but in the meantime, for more info! check out the #titan au tag on Relic's blog :]!! (also uhh potential ns//fw warning for the link shfjbdkd)

Hi. My battery is running out once again so design and art notes get chucked here instead of an image.

The cuffs and collar are hardwired into Megatron, so I made the lights the same colour as his biolights!

I imagine that on the tops of his shoulders there are solar panels, even if you can't see them here lol.

I really wanted to keep the swirly bits on Megatron's chest from IDW

Other art notes:

The second picture with the seekers is (loosely) inspired by a discussion about whether or not Megatron gets visitors or not. I thought about who would visit him and well... I think this is as close as Starscream realistically gets to visiting him.

Extra detail about that piece is that Thundercracker and Skywarp are keeping watch from above! Also drawing Megatron took me like 8 hours because I was struggling with his legs really badly kshffkbfkdsbdk,, the background went much faster, funnily enough.

Optimus specifically isn't wearing his Autobot badge any more.

This isn't relevant in this series of images, but Ultra Magnus's eye markings are only on the Magnus armour. His other two forms do not have them :] (... until he begins to discard the armour, that is.)

Megatron is roughly 3200m/2 miles tall. Technically he could have clouds around his knees, but I thought this looked a little bit cooler lol.

Also, height chart! Him big. I didn't even attempt to put a human for scale because that'd be. near impossible with this scale.

[teddybeartoji]

sukuna has full-blown conversations with your cat when you're not at home . like you come home one day and find them in the bathroom – sukuna is shaving his face while the cat sits on the counter beside him, and he's just talking with the little beast. and it seems so serious, too, like they're both very into the conversation???? anyway it's a ridiculously endearing sight aaaand it also gives you the perfect material to tease him with lmao he'll click his tongue whenever you bring it up and most likely he'll counter you by telling you that you're just jealous..

[milkbreadtoast]

idk how i want to draw him yet and not ready to make a srs attempt but here's a bad kdj phone doodle lol🚶🏻

[yellow-sword]

thighs