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#and less angry and pointed and more of an 'i need to see what else is out there'

mychlapci · 2 days

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Good meowning I was thinking about the mertwins again

Against what everyone has tried to quote as protocol, Prowl brings himself to the access above the red mer's tank again. He needs to prove that he is in no danger and that the sedation is unnecessary.

This time he keeps himself at least a frame's length away from the tank opening, crouching. He's borrowed a mop or something from storage, using the handle to tap at the water's surface. He taps and taps... until he sees blue optics peering at him from under the water.

He watches claw-tipped servos emerge from the water, grasping the edge of the tank and hauling the groggy mer up, his torso now above the waterline.

Maybe it's an error in judgement- Prowl moves closer to grab the mer's forearm. A moment of weakness. He saw the mer struggle and automatically reached forward to help- The mer grabs him back, claws digging into the armour of his forearm, drawing energon and a hiss from the black and white mech.

But the mer doesn't let go. He looks up at Prowl with tired and sad optics. His other clawed servo comes up to grasp at Prowl's arm too, digging into the armour with misplaced strength. Sure, he's in pain, but Prowl can't bring himself to pull away.

The mer whimpers at him. What Prowl had seen to be one of the most aggressive creatures he had ever laid optics on whimpers at him. He can't pull his bleeding arm away.

The mer's optics still look a little unfocused- a side effect of the sedation- as he looks at Prowl with sadness. Longing. He releases one servo from Prowl's arm to paw at his own chestplate. He whines at Prowl and paws and pats at the centre of his chest, right above his spark with a whine.

Prowl's doorwings droop at the display. He doesn't know what this means, but it's desperate. This is also the first record he has of communication from this one. He wishes he knew what it meant.

He tries speaking, a long shot, but maybe the mer would understand. "What do you want? What are you looking for?" he asks, but all he gets in response is more whimpering and harder pawing at the mer's chestplate.

Health checks have shown that the mer should not be in pain, so it is not a physically issue. So what else? His spark? A bondmate, possibly....? Do mers have bondmates? Prowl has not had the experience to truly find out.

"Are you looking for someone?" he tries again, and the mer looks at him sadly. The mer's servo finally lets go, allowing even more energon to leak from Prowl's arm. He brings his servos to the sides of his own head, gesturing again in what would look pretty funny if Prowl was in any less concerned a mood.

.....fins? Audial fins?

....It cannot be....

Prowl pulls a datapad from subspace and quickly scrolls through it, pulling up an image capture of the yellow mer, and then turns it over to show the red one.

The reaction is instant. The red mer's optics go wide, fins flaring for a klik, before he wails. He scrambles and snatches the datapad from Prowl's servos and clutches it to his chest.

Prowl thought it wouldn't affect him anymore, but the pained and desperate cry from the mer makes his sensor panels fall slightly, a twinge in his spark.

He doesn't get his datapad back that night. The mer wouldn't let go.

Thankfully he has more. He wouldn't admit to it, but he runs to his office, grabbing a datapad and rushing to the front of the yellow mer's tank. He knocks on the glass, something he never does (it disturbs the creatures. It's obnoxious.), until he sees those angry optics and flared fins of the snarling yellow mer.

A quick few taps and swipes across his datapad, and he flips it around, showing the yellow mer an image of the red one. And again, the reaction. Like the first time the mer had seen Prowl's injuries, his optics go wide and all aggression drains from his frame. He is immediately against the glass, servos pressed against the surface, trying to get as close a look at the image as possible.

Sunstreaker bangs on the glass, pointing. He lets out a cry, not one of anger this time, but something longing. This is the only other vocalisation from this mer Prowl has ever heard. There are angry snarls in between, like threats, but they are punctuated with long and soulful cries.

Prowls doorwings drop. Of course. This is what he's been missing. This is what they have been looking for. He separated something. These two have been looking for each other.

His free arm drops to his side, leaking energon dripping onto and staining the floor. But Prowl doesn't notice.

Of course. He has been so stupid. Naive. He separated something. And he didn't notice. He didn't know.

oh god i'm going crazaaay. This is so good. I can't stop thinking about the absolute desperation Sunstreaker and Sideswipe feel knowing that they might be in the same building but no one understands why they need to be together, and the way Prowl is so frustrated with not knowing what's going on that he ends up helping them out, in his... own way.

Finally he gets to see through the violence and threat displays and pitiful self-destruction, and it's time to tell the facility staff that it seems like the two mer need to be put in the same tank... Now, how terrible would it be if, because of their aggression, regulations forbid the staff from dumping them into the same tank... perhaps Prowl would have to take matters into his own hands. You know, he needs to know for sure that he's right about the two needing each other.

But then again, maybe the staff goes oh yeah, and they reunite Sunny and Sides and it's cute and heartfelt and they finally get to heal from all the neglect <3

#valveplug #merformers #texty

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microclown · 5 months

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I was rewatching s1e3 and something finally clicked for me..

Please forgive me if this seems obvious to you. It helps me to type out my thoughts, but I'm sure I'm just an idiot and no one else needs this explained to them, lol. That said - I was always slightly confused by the emotional weight of the holy water arc during the flashback sequence. Particularly I was confused by how angry Crowley got when Aziraphale referred to their relationship as fraternizing in the 1862 fight. I mean, "to associate or form a friendship with someone, especially when one is not supposed to" is exactly what they are doing, right? So why the 80 year breakup?

Crowley says he wants the holy water for if "it" all goes pear shaped. The phrasing is necessarily vague, and could mean lots of things. Since I know what he eventually uses it for, I was thinking about it in the context of Armageddon, or maybe more generally and vaguely about Crowley not always choosing to go along with Hell, and associating with Aziraphale. But there was not much reason for Crowley to already be thinking about Armageddon back then.

As we know from the full diary entry Neil posted, the timeline of the Edinburgh entry, and the cut bookshop opening scene, it seems like Crowley and Aziraphale were spending A LOT of time together by the 1800's. When Crowley is pulled back down to Hell in 1827, he learns that Hell is paying more attention to him than he'd previously thought. Crowley realizes at this point that spending so much time with Aziraphale is actively putting him in real danger. He recognizes that, and instead of breaking things off, or seeing Aziraphale less, he doubles down. If this relationship is dangerous, then he wants the tools to fight for it.

That's what I think I didn't get about the holy water request. It's not just general insurance, it's specifically insurance for if Hell finds out about him and Aziraphale. It's also a super vulnerable request because in making it, Crowley is openly acknowledging how important their relationship is to him. Aziraphale casually brings up the arrangement at the beginning of the conversation, and that's part of it, right? Because the whole basis of their relationship is the arrangement. It continues to be the pretense under which they meet, despite the relationship clearly having developed beyond that. And the arrangement, as Crowley proposed it in 537, is born out of convenience, and the assumption that Heaven and Hell would never notice anyway.

Crowley's request for insurance breaks that facade. He's acknowledging that it's not convenient, or safe, but he wants to do it anyway, despite the risk.

Aziraphale, on the other hand, is not ready for the screen to be taken away so abruptly. To make it worse, he assumes Crowley wants the holy water as an escape, rather than a weapon. Suddenly he is confronted with both the danger their association poses, and the idea that Crowley might choose to take his own life. He can't imagine the guilt of being directly responsible for the latter.

I also think the strength of his own emotional response to the thought of losing Crowley catches Aziraphale off guard. He hasn't admitted to himself how much he actually cares, and it scares him. Worrying about Heaven is more comfortable and familiar, so he falls back on that and switches to "If they knew I'd been... fraternizing!"

But bringing up the threat of Heaven reads to Crowley as Aziraphale saying "You may be willing to put yourself at risk for the sake of our relationship, but I am not." The word choice of "fraternizing" comes off as a dismissive and demeaning way to describe a relationship that Crowley just admitted he would risk his life for.

It's an unintentionally deep cut when Crowley is already at his most vulnerable, and so he lashes out. As far as we've seen, this is possibly the first time Crowley has truly lashed out at Aziraphale. So yeah, 80 year breakup makes sense!

And what makes this so much worse is what happens next. Crowley reaches out again in 1941 with a dramatic gesture (rescuing Aziraphale from the Nazis, saving his books). It's clear they've missed each other. They don't discuss the fight, but it's there subtextually. Aziraphale, tentatively and thrillingly, refers to them as friends, for the first time ever. He tells Crowley that he trusts him.

And then, that very same night their worst fears are confirmed. Just when they've finally reconciled a fight over the dangers of their relationship, and just when Aziraphale has finally admitted that it is not a relationship of convenience, but genuine friendship, they are exposed. Crowley is going to face punishment from Hell, explicitly for being Aziraphale's "trusted confident", and he doesn't have insurance. If Aziraphale's trick hadn't succeeded, Crowley would have had no way to protect himself.

idk it just makes me feel things ok

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow

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cbartonscoffee · 3 months

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I think I've never been more aware of just how many people only get their info of the batfam through fanfic. I finally started reading Red Robin (2009) and I can not believe how many things are blown out of proportion. Particularly about Dick and Damian.

First of all, Dick does try to put limits and he does get fed up with Damian's ways sometimes. Out of the three first interactions of them in the comic, at least in two he tells him to shut up. And one of those is when Damian starts to brag about being Robin and Tim being useless, he tells him to shut up twice.

Another thing about that moment, is that they treat it like Dick completely dismisses Tim and treats him as unimportant. He doesn't. He takes him seriously, he tells him he needs him, he tells him he views his as an equal, as someone capable. And he also tells him he's concerned about him and that he needs to start processing Bruce's death. Could that have been a little harsh? Yes, but he needed to do it without making Tim think there was room for him to be convinced about his theory because let's be honest, Tim would've taken anything less than complete refusal and tried to change his mind. And had he been wrong neither of them could have taken it.

Secondly, Dick is always left to shoulder the blame of kicking Tim out and of never reaching out. That's bull. And I need to make that clear. Tim was in a delicate point, he tells us this himself multiple times, but the decision to leave was completely made out of his own free will. Another thing he did was put space between him and the people on Gotham. We see only one time in which Dick tries to call him. Tim picks up and tells him he doesn't want to talk. This tells us that Dick respecting Tim's wish of space included almost no (or even no) contact, and Dick calling was not something Tim appreciated or encouraged.

Now. Going into the second year of the run, when he's back in Gotham, there's a few things to talk about and I'm still in the aftermath of Damian and Tim's fight.

I feel it's important to say that even if they are all family, more often than not they're doing their own thing. Like, Babs and Steph are in the Batcave while Dick and Damian are in Wayne Tower, Cass is said to potentially be in Hong Kong and we haven't even heard Jason be name-dropped except for the fact that he went on a rampage at some point.

So, Dick is immediately called away in League business. So he isn't there. Damian is behaving fairly civil besides being a brat, so no one wastes too much effort in correcting what he says. We need to think about the fact that this is a kid whose world was turned upside down multiple times in a short period of time, who has a need to be accepted, and who hasn't yet found his place. All this is to say, that if it's difficult to get him to eat breakfast there's no way they're controlling his every move and that's understandable.

So Dick is away, Damian is still trying to adapt, Alfred has his hands full and everyone else is doing something else.

The whole thing starts because Tim is being kind of cryptic about what he's doing with his hit list and Damian feels left out and goes looking for more. He finds his name in a hidden double side of the hit list marking him as a threat. He understandably feels hurt and angry, because he's a kid, and he's trying, and his predecessor who at this point doesn't even try with him anymore views him as something bad.

So in classic Damian fashion, he falls back on his upbringing and doesn't deal with the situation as one should, talking about it. Instead he cuts team line, hurting before being hurt. It could've been worse, we see in the panel that Tim doesn't have that much of a hard time getting safely to the ground. The problem is that he snaps and starts a full-blown fight he knows Damian won't back out off. (I'm pleased to add that after cutting his line Damian doesn't start anything else)

So they are fighting, Tim has the clear advantage and he knows this, we know this. And that's how Dick finds them. Having just returned from a JL mission, in the place where the Waynes were murdered, with Tim having overpowered Damian.

They go back to the cave and Damian shares his findings, and Dick understands. And Tim tells him he (Dick) knows why he (Tim) did it. Dick agrees, and tells him he should have tried to make it harder to find. Tim says he hadn't thought Damian would try or even care. Dick tells him Damian wants to be accepted.

All in all, so far the only thing this comic has proven to me is that there's a reason comics are the bomb and that fanon has gotten out of hand. I get making things out to be worse for the sake of a story, but everything surrounding these events is basically used as the foundation for Damian and Tim's relationship as well as Dick and Tim's and I don't think I've once read a fanfic where these events are portrayed correctly or even following the real motivations of the characters. This is a disservice to all of them and only serves to amplify the hate towards a character that doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of Damian hate going around. And it sucks. Mostly because people use his actions against Tim to justify it and honestly? I don't think you should be allowed to use that if you haven't read RR and understood what was going on.

#batman #dc comics #tim drake #red robin #damian wayne #robin #dick grayson #nightwing #red robin 2009 #dc #batfam #batfamily #stop the damian wayne hate #and the dick grayson hate for that matter #and please try to differentiate canon and fanon #and get at least an idea of the source material

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verstappen-cult · 5 months

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gonna take up on the request opening bc i love these lil blurbs you do with your moodboards! maybe "how they defend you online" esp charles and lando but if you feel like adding others its up to you !!

THE BOYS DEFENDING YOU FROM ONLINE HATE | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando was streaming when you came home one day. once he heard the front door being closed and then your footsteps, he excused himself with his friends and viewers and went to greet you. when he came back, there were several texts from his friends letting him know of some not-so-friendly comments about you. suddenly, lando had something else to do and ended the whole thing. he did not tell you anything, lando simply waited until his next stream for what he wanted to do. it was very simple and definitely something lando would do; and staring right into the camera lando let the world know that if they don’t support his relationship, then he just doesn’t want their support at all. from then on, lando just blocked everyone who didn’t have anything good to say. you’re the most important person in his life, how can anyone hate you? and so, lando made a promise to himself: show the world the amazing girl you are.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

even way before you started dating charles, receiving hateful comments and messages was a common occurrence. of course your boyfriend knew about it, everyone could see what was happening just by choosing a random picture on your instagram and reading the replies. it was sad, awful. but you didn’t want charles to do anything, you stopped him a lot of times because you didn’t want to bring too much attention into the whole thing. charles loves you and that is all that matters to you. it was, well, okay… until things became a little to real, a little too much, and charles couldn’t sit back and do nothing. so with a little bit of help from his team, he managed to write a very good and long statement about the whole thing. there were mixed opinions but things quiet down a little. and you weren’t happy at first, but something as simple as seeing your comment section hate-free made you forgive him sooner.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar is a man of very few words and never engages in online drama or gossip. if and when he’s online, oscar just wants to see cute and funny videos. he’s a formula one driver and people should only be interested in that part of his life, but he knows that will never be the case. however, he’s still surprised to see various comments around twitter about you. they are not about how beautiful or intelligent you are or how happy you seem to make oscar with your pretty smile and sense of humor – not that they would know that. not that they deserve to know that, either. some part of him wants to reply to those people who definitely don’t know you, he’s angry, disgusted. and the rational part of him tells him to simply don’t say anything because they don’t deserve it. so, oscar just clicks to make a new tweet and begins with a simple phrase “you don’t know anything about me or my life…” and so on. maybe he sounded a little harsh, maybe things will get worse; he couldn’t care less, as long as you’re not mad with him, he can live with being the center of the drama. oscar will never let anyone disrespect you.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max doesn’t care what people think and have to say about him, that ship has sailed a long time ago. but he can’t ignore when people say mean things about you, he just can’t, so, he doesn’t. max replies to every single tweet and comment on both his and your instagram that he sees, he goes directly to the point and if he’s mean then, who cares? maybe it’s a little bit childish but he doesn’t care, max will not allow anyone to talk shit about his girl. and if he needs to make a video or do an interview or whatever he needs to do to make people understand that you are part of his life and forever will be, then he will be more than happy to do them. max is almost never online, so when all of this happens he makes sure to make time to be online, to post a picture of you on his instagram story, to post a photo of your vacation together on his feed, to say how much he loves you via twitter, to mention you when he has the chance during an interview. he loves making you blush and seeing you trying to hide your smile when you see all those things. max also loves pissing people off.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

alex tries to be friendly. when he sees someone say something not good about his girlfriend, he doesn’t hesitate to prove them wrong and defend you. he knows you’re more than capable of doing it and has seen you doing it before; he loves it. but there’s this something inside of him trying to break free and just let everyone know the funny, pretty, amazing, kind girl he’s lucky to call his girlfriend. so, alex lets it free and goes liking, retweeting and replying to every single comment about you and how shiny and nice your hair is, how you seem to make alex so happy and how he’s always smiling around you (he makes sure to let them know why is that), how lucky alex is to have you by his side, and so on and on and on until there’s nothing more for him, until he can’t think about the mean things people said, until you are laughing next to him and calling him obsessed and kissing him like your life depends on it.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel chooses a catchy song and changes some of the lyrics, then sets his phone down and sits with a big smile and his guitar. when the video starts, he simply says “this is dedicated to all of the assholes thinking that is okay to hate on someone’s girlfriend just because.” and then he starts singing. there are a lot of bad words and cursing and long pauses looking directly into the camera without losing that big and pretty smile he has. daniel then uploads the video to all his platforms with a little paragraph about why bullying is bad and why you should mind your own business because he’s not that interesting anyway and it won’t make him break up with you because some trolls are practically begging him to. he ends up getting in trouble for not consulting with his team before doing what he did, something that has him going viral, so viral that people outside of formula one and people who don’t even who he is talk about it. exactly what he wanted.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

the moment mick has to hold you in his arms as you cry because you’d read something mean about you, it’s the exact moment he decides to do something about it. he doesn’t want to cause drama or make things worse, so, it takes him a little while and some long calls with his sister to know what to do. mick puts the poetry classes you two take a few months ago to good use and writes the most beautiful and romantic poem you and everyone would ever read. it is about you, about his love for you, about what you mean to him and everything he likes about you. he posts a little phrase to his instagram stories and sets a time and day for when it will be posted it. when the day cames and you get to read it, you end up crying again but for a whole different reason. it’s not that you didn’t know mick loved you but it’s the gesture, the time he spent doing it, the fact that he wanted to do it and wanted the whole world to read his love letter to you, something that will forever be there.

#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 grid x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #charles leclerc fluff #max verstappen fluff #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo blurb #alex albon x reader #mick schumacher x you #alex albon imagine #oscar piastri fanfic

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ryo-maybe · 2 years

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can u explain why AI art is bad without fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking lol

I'm going to answer in good faith, even though the tone you're using sounds like you're harboring anything but. The issue with AI art isn't specifically inherent to the tools used to produce it, because, ultimately, a tool is merely that: something devoid of will which, in the hands of a human, can produce a specific outcome. It's the human element that taints what we could otherwise enjoy for the unquestioningly fascinating topic that is AI art and, by extension, AI software as a whole.

Now, the problem isn't people, period, but the kind of people that are responsible for giving AI the bad rep it's been getting, along with the intent that goes into both the development of AI tools and the things produced by dint of said tools. I'm talking about the tech bros happily rubbing their hands, waiting to provide business moguls with a brand new means to commodify and mass-produce what artists stake their entire livelihoods upon, because when you have enough zeroes lined up in your bank account, your eyes are utterly blinded to the soul and personality that human beings put into their handiwork, and which a machine won't ever be able to reproduce no matter how much stolen art you feed it. Oh yeah, by the way, that's how AI art tools have been making the rounds: by chewing on thousands upon thousands of stolen pictures made by actual people so that they may learn how to ape someone's style and spit out absolutely soulless derivatives, while the original authors don't see a lick of recognition or monetary retribution for any of it. Do I need to tell you why stealing and parading someone else's art as your own is a terrible, vile thing to do?

But sure, you did ask me to refrain from "fearmongering, moralizing or bootlicking", which I guess I've already done. So since you'd rather I skipped straight to the point in a concise manner, lemme offer some quick examples of why the culture surrounding AI art has already developed into one of the most abysmally disappointing displays of how greed and an utter lack of human decency can ruin something objectively brimming with possibilities:

Less than a week after the sudden death of Korean artist Kim Jung-gi, someone trained an AI model to mimic his artstyle, having the audacity of asking for credits if anyone wished to use it. I sincerely hope I don't have to explain to you why this is a ghoulish example of the kind of tone-deafness sported by tech bros who buy wholesale into the AI art craze.

A piece of AI art was submitted to an art contest and won. The "artist"'s work amounted to little more than picking a series of prompts and letting the machine do the work. It's as much art as googling a smattering of terms and making a collage of pictures taken from Pinterest (and even then, you would have put more work into it than this person did). That they won at all says a whole damn lot about how abysmal the respect given to artists - real artists - nowadays is.

There are a multitude of people out there already selling prints of AI-generated art. I could link some of them here, but honestly, type "ai art prints" on a search engine and you'll get inundated by them. I've seen and personally know artists who have had to undersell their works because commissions were the only thin, frayed string they could hang on in hopes of making it through the week without fucking starving themselves, but here we are: any random asshole can now yell "MASSIVE BREASTS, THIN WAIST, COCKTAIL DRESS, HUGE BADONGAS" at a computer, let it mash together a trillion of other people's hard work, and print it for easy bucks that the actual authors of the basic ingredients of their insipid soup will never, ever see a dime of.

It really bothers me that you mentioned "no bootlicking". Whose fucking boots is this side of the debate supposedly tasting? That of the artists who post every day about how angry, sad and terrified they are by the prospects of what the development of AI art will entail for their livelihood and passion? What kind of gall did your mother birth you with that you have the spiteful spunk to type that word, when you've got shit like an artist who had their sketch stolen while they were drawing it on stream, then fed to an AI and posted by someone passing it off as their own art? How does that not ignite your indignation? "Bootlicking". Like anyone's tongues have been tasting leather but those of the same tech bro chodes who kept trying oh so hard to convince us NFTs were the future while ruining the environment to make the absolute stupidest point ever made in the history of humanity.

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ja3hwa · 2 months

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♡ 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐭 𝐔𝐩 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 | 𝐂.𝐒 ♡

【Synopsis】 : You had one job and three rules. And you broke every single one.

『Word count』 : 2.18k

-> Genre: Smut. Mafia Au.

Pairing: MobBoss!San x PrivateDriver!Reader

[Warnings] : Swearing. Gun violence. Some angst. Mention of death. San's a bit bloody. Blood (obviously). Unprotected sex. Car sex. Squirting. Light-hearted banter. Hinting of sex work and abuse (doesn't go into detail). Speeding. Car chase. Fingering. Fucking while driving (don't do this). Pet names

Note: This is based on this drabble. Everyone liked it so much that i just had to make a full fic, hehe.

Networks : @newworldnet ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Buy me a Ko-fi

“Oh no, I want to hear it, darling. What else would you find enjoyable to ride?” He shot the last of his drink, his hand evidently palming his clothed hard-on.

“I think you already know the answer, sir.”

“Hmm.” was all he responded with.

That night you’d fuck yourself on your dildo with the idea of San palming himself while you drove. The way his pants were stuck in your brain, playing on repeat as he continued to pleasure himself while you drove him home. You couldn’t have dropped him off sooner, cause you swore he was going to cum in his pants if he kept going.

‘Until next time, bunny.’

His voice was so smooth. Deep. You know you were playing a dangerous game by becoming involved with a client much less a feared mob boss that would kill someone that looked at him the wrong way. But the way he looked at you through the mirror every time you drove him. He was always so happy to see you, chatting about anything to keep his mind off his work. You were an escape for him. Something that was a reminder he was supposed to be this angry man twenty-four-seven. No, he could, laugh, tease, flirt, with you and you’d either shut him down or egg him on. Both of which rial him up even more.

The idea of touching you, having you. Even if it was for one night, it was becoming increasingly more tempting. But alas, he knew you. You are professional, and you wouldn’t disobey your company’s rules.

Do not sleep with the clients.

But something deep in your soul was screaming at you that all of your morality was about to go out the window. You were sent to pick up a client on a south port right after they had finished some trade. Well, that was the plan, at least, but here you were sitting an hour later after the supposed pick-up. This is getting ridiculous. You thought, shifting in your seat, trying to keep your muscles awake. What is taking him so long?

You knew of the client. Some lowlife trying to make it big in the mafia world. How he managed to hire you was a mystery. Maybe a debt is being paid? Or some sweet talking. But then again, from what you heard, he had neither up his sleeve. You closed your eyes for a moment, just a moment, trying to rest the tired feeling you were experiencing behind your temple. Everything was quiet, peaceful almost… Well, that was until you heard a gunshot, then two more following it.

You sat up and looked around frantically, spotting a few men rushing out of the large barn that sat by the waterfront. They were chasing a man, a young feline looking—it’s San.

The side door opened to a bloody-looking man with a feverious smile. His adrenaline was pumping to the point that you could see the veins in his neck bulging. His gun was still tight in his grip, wiping his brow with the back of the same hand. “I need you to get us out of here, princess.”

“I..B-but. Wait. My client…” You were so confused, not even registering you started the car. The men that had been chasing San were hot on your tail, so you began to floor it through the back roads of the port.

“Uh, yeah, well. He’s dead. He didn’t like the deal I offered and the bitch thought he could beat it out of me. ME! The king of fucking Seoul. Fucking arrogant pig.” San rambled but you barely heard what he had to say about the client. No, all you could think about was getting the fuck out of dogged and away from any of the crooks San managed to piss off. But then again pissing people off seemed like San's specialty.

“Where do I even go from here those bastards are probably tracking my fucking car.” You’ve never spoken so out of line before in front of a client but here you were. San just raked his fingers through his dirty hair, licking his busted lip.

“Why would they be tracking us.” San started searching through the glove departments for any signs of a tracker, but you just huffed, clutching the wheel tighter before almost screaming at him.

“They would be tracking us ‘cause they are the ones that own this fucking car and I was supposed to drive their fucking boss to a fucking safe house you idiot.” You didn’t mean to blow up but the tension became so thick in the vehicle you felt like you had no choice. San sat still for a moment, never hearing someone call him out of his stupidity before other than his right hand, Wooyoung. The silence was making your skin crawl, making you suddenly aware you just yelled at a mob boss. A mob boss that was definitely packing some kind of weapon…The fucking king of Seoul as he put it. You suddenly felt a hand touch your thigh making your whole body jump and the car almost swerved off the road.

“Well go on. Get us out of here, darling.” His voice was smooth and collected. It made your head spin. “B-but the track—If we get far enough, the tracker won’t reach, and then we can dump the car and run." San chuckled, turning back to stare at the road. You, on the other hand, were struggling to keep focus on the tar in front of you. He hasn't moved his fucking hand…

You started to speed up, swerving through the small amounts of traffic. You kept eyeing the rear-view mirror checking your back, and you noticed several cars tailing you.

Bastards.

You took a sharp left, causing San to shift in his seat and his hand that was perched on your thigh to slide up higher. You visibly shivered, making San aware of where his hand went. He just smirked, "Such a good girl. Getting me out of here. Remind me, why you don't drive for me permanently again?"

"Cause you flirt too much and I'm…" you felt his finger brush against your inner thigh… "I-I'm in a contract with the company I work for."

"Hmmm, well, you know I'm pretty good at making contracts disappear." He dared to reach further, and you were delusional enough to open your legs a little for him.

"H-he'd kill me. I can't leave." There was so much more in your contract that San didn't know of, but he could think of a few things the scum bag made you do. You have a passion for driving and driving fast. And he used that to get you to do other shit for him. Bastard.

"You won't have to ever do anything for him ever again. Come home with me. I'll look after you. Let you ride any of my cars… and anything else you might want…" he leaned towards your tense frame, seeing your knuckles turn white from how hard you held the wheel. "I'd give you the moon if you asked, darling. Anyone for my best girl."

My best girl…. oh, now your head is definitely spinning. Your foot hit the gas harder, reaching a long stretch of dirt road. Sitting at 90, you jumped to 120. "S-san…"

He popped the button of your dress pants, slipping his fingers delectably down until they grazed your bare core.

125km/h

"You like to be called my best girl, huh? Just need some praise, princess?" His breath tickled as he licked a strip along your neck up to your ear, biting your ear lob. All the while, his hand dipped further, running his long finger along your slit. "Fuck your soaked baby. Wet for me baby?" He chuckled, deeply.

You bit your lip, trying so hard not to close your eyes. "San p-please." You didn't know why you said that, but it was all you could think of. He pushed the pad of his finger against your clit, rubbing in slow little circles.

130km/h

"God you know how much I've thought about this pussy. How much I've dreamt about fucking her, tasting her. I bet you taste like fucking honey darling." His finger slid into your aching hole, making you gasp.

135km/p

Your watery eyes looked through the rear-view mirror, seeing no one behind you anymore, just a thick dust cloud created in your wake. You felt his finger slip in and out of you, making you open your legs wider for him. He chuckled, kissing your neck more until.

You slammed on the brakes, drifting the car through the dirt until it spun around and stopped in a sharp huff. Everything happened so quickly, but it was like you and San were in sync. Undoing your belts, he pulled his chair's brake, pulling the seat backwards so he had more leg room and was angled so you could climb on top of him.

Your lips captured his in a hot and messy kiss while his hand worked his belt and pants, slipping them down just enough so his naked ass could rest on the leather and his cock slapped against his clothed abdomen. You pulled your pants off while still in your seat. Ditching your slip-on sneakers before climbing onto his lap.

He gripped your blouse, ripping it off so the button flew everywhere. Neither of you cared though. Not as his lips latched on the top of your breasts, tugging your bra down so your tits could spill over the top. "Fuck,"

He groans as he catches a glimpse of your body. You are perfect, better than he imagined. "This was not how I wanted to ravish you."

"Yes, it was, don't fucking lie." You cut him off with another kiss. In truth, you were right. He had many dreams of fucking you senselessly in one or all of his vehicles. Maybe even on his bike, too.

"It's the thought that counts." He laughed against your lips.

"Shut up." You pulled your panties aside, sinking your fingers inside yourself. San watch in awe as you stretched yourself out on top of his twitching cock. And as if you could get more perfect, you moaned his name while doing it.

"Fuck your gorgeous." He slammed his head back against the chair and groaned as he bucked his hips up to try and get some kind of friction. But what he didn't expect was to feel your hand wrap tightly around his aching shaft. "Jesus fuck.."

It was your turn to giggle now, shifting your weight you lined your soaking entrance to his red angry cock tip, letting him breach your walls with a pop. You slowly sank down on his inch by inch. His hands flew for your hips, helping you bottom him out. "Saaniie y-you're huge. Fuck."

"Don't say shit like that. I-Fuck.. I won't last." His eyes hazily gazed to where you were connected feeling you pull up, then slam back down onto his cock. You circled your hips, drawing loud moans from both of you. Your hands fly to his shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours. Chest to chest. San nuzzled his face into your neck, taking a large inhale through his nose. He could smell your sweet perfume mixing with the lude scent of sex.

"So perfect." He mumbled, bracing his feet to the floor before jackhammering into your soaked cunt. Your screams were muffled against his neck as his pace became ruthless and harsh. Your hips moved out of sync with his thrusts, perfectly letting you grind your clit against his pelvis, sending electricity up your spine.

"S-sann, I'm gonna cum. Please let me cum." You whimpered, biting down on his shoulder fearing to draw blood.

"Yes, cum baby. I want to feel you cum around my cock. Be a good girl." He groaned, holding you tighter, feeling his own high creeping closer. Your tummy tugged tight and snapped. Your hips stilling, taking San's abusive thrusts as you squirted all over his lap.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck." San slammed deep inside you, splurting his seed inside you, painting your walls with his cream. He kisses your shoulder, legs slightly shaking as he empties his load. You just laid there, taking every drop. Your pussy clenched around him, hissing at the sensitivity. Your fingers were laced in his hair, and his making shapes on your sweat-still clothed back.

"I broke the rules…" You whispered. San felt a little guilty that he made you break the rules of your company. He tainted you, and he was sorry for it. You'd never get another job as a driver if people found out you slept with a client. "You made me go over 140. You're lucky there weren't cops out here."

Oh, you were complaining about sleeping with him.

"That's what you're worried about." San had to laugh, hugging your figure tighter as he chuckled against your neck.

"Yes, I could have crashed and fucked the car."

"Yeah, instead, you just fucked me." You sat up and slapped his chest for that comment.

—

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targaryenluvs · 3 months

Text

YOURS TRULY

pairings: dark!luke castellan x fem!reader, dark!percy jackson x fem!reader

summary: with one demi-god on your tail, you try your hardest to make your escape. but with two? they’re both no where near willing to let you go.

warnings: obsession, possession, stalking, implied kidnapping, sexual implications

a/n: look who decided to write again!

Icons not mine, credits to the owner!

it wasn’t hard for him to find you again. a given, he would track you down to the ends of tartarus as long as you wound up where you were meant to be.

by his side.

at first he’d been disappointed in himself when he fell for you. luke thought himself above that, thinking that he’d devoted himself entirely to his cause. but maybe being around so many kids for so many years caused him to soften in places unknown.

because when you’d limped into camp, collapsing in the strawberry fields and sending the the place into a tailspin, he found an eerie sense of peace with you. the words and thoughts in his heads were drowned out the second you looked up at him.

“it’s- it keeps- it’s chasing me.” his hand came down to your stomach, a lash ran across. not too deep, barely half a centimetre perhaps less. luke immediately picked up his sword in defence of you, waiting for the monster to show. meanwhile the other kids were either running for chiron and mr d or gearing up themselves.

there was no way they were missing the chance for kleos.

but the monster was already subdued, as percy walked out dragging a head along with him. “order to go?” you couldn’t help the smile that came across your face at his words. but luke didn’t like it, how the hell had percy beaten him to it?

over the next few months you found yourself in between the two of them, fighting for your attention. even if it was just for a minute. during the capture the flag you found yourself rotating teams every time since apparently the other promised victory every time. but you knew if you only focused on one of them the other would be angry.

everyone else at camp found it hilarious. two of the most well known campers competing for someone who apparently couldn’t care less. you just wanted to be at camp with your friends.

but what you didn’t know was that they were actively working against each other.

“nice sword skills jackson, a scarecrow teach you?” luke laughed as percy sighed, “your insults are weak castellan, so are your own skills.” luke raised his eyebrows, he was one of the best swordsman around in a long time. they both were one of few who saw the real sides to them, the jealousy and the arrogance. all because of you.

it got so intense to the point that you knew you needed to run. they were hurting eachother constantly, all for your approval, and even threatening your own siblings at times. to the point where they slowly began to distance themselves when the two were around. whether they’re excusing themselves for the bathrooms or just blatantly upping and leaving.

“hey y/n, how are you?” your spoon froze mid air as you heard percy’s voice, a quick glance at your siblings and you could see the fear. “guys, you mind giving us a second?” all your sibling at the table were younger than you and more than happy to leave, “i’m doing fine jackson. you?” you couldn’t be any shorter with him yet he always engaged himself in conversations with you. even when you were clearly uninterested.

“i’m doing amazing, now that i’m talking to you.” you flashed him a smile before getting up with your tray, “that’s nice, i’ll see you around.”

percy watched as you walked away, until he heard the voice he dreaded. “left alone are we?” luke joked whilst sitting down in the spot you’d occupied not too long ago. “shut up. she barely talks to you.” luke smiled, “well, when she’s with me we don’t do a lot of talking.” if looks could kill, luke would be a goner. “stop it.”

“bet i could catch her before you.”

“you’re slower than me let’s be realistic jackson.”’

“you wanna bet?”

and that’s exactly how you ended up here, knee-deep in the creek with either boy on each side of you. “will you just leave me alone? what is wrong with you!” luke’s face was cold, his grip on his sword was more than enough to make your heart race. “just come out and let me talk to you.” you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at percy’s words, “why would i? it looks like you wanna kill me!”

“no!” luke’s shouting caused you to stumble back, “i mean— i would never hurt you.” he took a step forwards as you pointed your spear, “stay back!” unfortunately, you’d been so busy fending off luke you’d forgotten about percy to your left. you screamed at the top of your lungs when his arms came around you.

“hey, quit it.” luke whispered as his hand came over your mouth. “i don’t want to hurt you.” you’d be damned if you went quietly, so you shook and writhed. trying your hardest to get away, and luke had a short temper when it came to you. his sword came across your head, knocking you out cold. “what the hell!” percy yelled as you went limp in his arms. “she’ll be fine, now let’s get going.”

as they walked with you, either one couldn’t help but think, when they’d get rid of the other.

#percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x fem!reader #yandere percy jackson x reader #yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #yandere luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #dark!luke castellan x reader

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kaicubus · 2 years

Text

Distraction | Xavier T.

warnings ✩° : mutual pining, angry(?) confession, teasing, competition, cursing, rivals to lovers, both reader and xavier are 17-18 years old, fluff but also a tad spice.

pairing ✩° : xavier thorpe x fem!reader

premise ✩° : on the day of the annual poe cup, you're put against your academic rival, xavier thorpe, and you don't want to lose. however, he has other plans of getting the upper hand with you and knows exactly how to get his way. hes knocking out two birds with one stone, if you will.

word count ✩° : 3.4k

authors note ✩° : this was done in literally a few hours bc i’m obsessed and it needs to be addressed.

The rules were simple.

They always have been. Follow what the people in charge told you and don't disappoint. If you disappoint them then you disappoint the whole community and what good are you if you're a disappointment. It was hard not to see school, ground zero for being the best, as a competition. In fact, you thrived working towards a goal of being superior than everyone else; maybe it was due to the fact that no matter what was put in front of you, you could understand it and write it off as done as soon as you wrote your name. However, there were some things you didn't get at times and that frustrated you.

Over the time you’ve known him, it’s been test after test, assignment after assignment, obscure experiment after obscure experiment to prove to this seemingly effortlessly perfect creature that you’re better than him, only for you to miss his mark by one. point.

“Maybe you should think less about being better than me and more about the material, Y/n.” Xavier would say, “But don’t worry, you ALMOST got the same score as me.”

It wasn't his snarky comments or obviously stronger memory than you that made you over the top angry, no, it was the fact that you couldn't understand how he was doing it. Nothing made sense and the feeling of not knowing made looking into his stupid hazel eyes, gazing at his sharp and defined side profile, and wispy long hair all the more annoying. Everything has to have answers. So why did he make your throat tighten every time you spoke to him? Or your face flush with dark shades of pink and red? It had to be anger. There was no other explanation.

All of the rivalry would eventually lead you both up to the annual Poe Cup. A boat race amongst four teams, five members from each house all stuck together on their respective hand crafted boats each representing a different Edgar Allen Poe poem.

You're on The Black Cat team while Xavier’s on The Amontillado team. For a whole week you spend with your team, preparing for the race and to utterly destroy Xavier because this will finally prove to yourself that you’re good at him at something.

“You ready to beat the shit out of Xavier, Y/n?” Your friend who knows your rivalry with the guy smiles at you, “Once WE have that cup he has to realize that all he is to you, is dirt.” She was right.

“Relax, F/n, why ruin my chances with excitement when I can take all of that and shove it in his face at the very end.”

Your other team mate taps you both on your shoulders, “You guys ready? It’s almost time.” With that, you watch everyone file into their boats, Xavier included, and so you and your friend make your way into your own seats. However, just before you adjust your headband on your head, you decide to catch a glimpse of the destined losers on each side of you. Though no one else is important right now other than seeing him, so you give a side eyed glance in Xavier’s direction.

To your surprise, not only is he already looking at you, but, “Is he laughing at me?”

Your friend looks towards Xavier as well and scoffs, “Yeah,” She confirms, “Looks like they all are. Fucking clowns.”

As you chew on the inside of your cheek out of anger, a sudden whistle blows from Ms. Weems accompanied by a large megaphone that amplifies her voice as she speaks.

You can tell out of the corner of your eye that ever since your friend had rudely thrusted her middle finger into the sky for all the jesters to see, Xavier hadn't stopped looking at you. His eyes, laser focused, burned into the side of your head and it only made you more anxious for the race. You bite your lip ever so slightly and fight back the urge to look at him too.

Thankfully, you're saved by a gunshot that explodes into the air and suddenly your team gets pushed into the water.

Of all things, why should you be thinking about Xavier Thorpe and what he has to say or look at you for? All this time, you've convinced yourself that you could care less what he thinks of you. After all, the reason you're trying so hard to be better than him is the very reason that motivates you every day to get up and face him. Otherwise, you'd be locked away in your dorm with nothing to do but attend class and repeat the cycle. In a way, he was your reason to wake up.

“Y/N! Duck!” Your friend suddenly snaps you out of your mechanical like motions of rowing as hard as possible. Wasting no time, you dodge the flying axe coming your way by a hair. “What the hell?! Y/n, focus!”

“I am focused, F/n.”

“No, you're not. You got that lost look in your eyes. Stop thinking about Xavier and maybe pay attention to all the objects being thrown around at us? So you don't die, and most importantly, so we can win this for our hall?”

For the rest of the distance from the starting line to the other end of the lake, you try not to look behind you as looking behind you would only distract you from the prize. All of your team puts in their all in rowing as fast as they can together in sync, each arm pushing at the exact same second as everyone else to really glide through the water. Despite nets being tossed, siren students diving under boats and tipping them over, and very small fire crackers being thrown into other boats, three teams are left remaining to the next stage of the race. Getting the flag.

“Go go go!” F/n pushes you up, “Get the black flag. We’ll be waiting here to look out for anybody.”

Not wanting to waste anymore time, you nod and start sprinting directly into the old, creaky forest. Dry leaves crunch under your feet in threes, making their crinkles the only noise in the entire forest. That’s good, you think, that means no one else came yet. Quickly jumping over logs and rocks, you make your way to the flag destination, only to see that your black flag is missing.

“What the—”

“Hey,” a voice calls out from behind you, “Looking for something?”

The cheesy line doesn't go without an eye roll as you turn around, “Xavier.”

“You don't seem too happy to see me.” Your rival stands with a shit eating grin on his face, comically extenuated with crimson, drippy paint.

You're quick to reply, “I'm not. You took my flag which I need to win this. So hand it over, Thorpe.”

He raises his hands and allows you to charge up to him just close enough so that you're barely touching the tips of his pointed shoes with your jet black boots. “What? Who says I have your flag? I JUST got here in case you hadn't noticed.”

“I actually haven't noticed. Because why would I stop to care about where you are?”

“You seemed to care when we first started.” Xavier leans down and twists his head slightly, just enough for you to be caught off guard and step back, “I saw you looking at me.” His tone makes you shrink back.

Heat rushes to your face in a fleeting panic and almost immediately, your chest twists your rib cage hard enough to squeak out, “I WASN'T LOOKING AT YOU! YOU were looking at ME!”

Xavier raises his brows and chuckles, “I remember differently.”

Of course he has to be cocky now. “Look, Xavier. Just forget this and let me go. Your gross sweat is getting all over me.”

“Oh is that so?”

“YESNOWLETGO.”

He snickers at your flustered nature but decides to go the extra mile and tease you further, “You do realize that we all have to get back, Y/n, its kinda the whole reason why we made it here. Though it looks like its just the two of us.” He turns to both of his sides and then directs his attention back to you, “I’d say we have a little time.”

Again, you emphasize, “WE don't have time. Unlike you, I actually WANT to win. Xavier, I don't know what your deal is or why you're so obsessed with me and making me look like a complete and utter fool, but once I win this for my team, it ends. Do you understand me?”

Xavier exhales deeply, “You know, for someone who’s so high strung and smart, you're really dumb, aren't you?”

“What?”

He steps forward, causing you to back into a tree. You can feel the roughness of the tree bark as it etches its way across the backside of your suit, causing a mildly discomforting feeling that shivers throughout your skin. Before you can move forward, Xavier steps closer, basically eliminating any means of escaping.

“Why am I so obsessed with you? Is that what you think this is? Obsession?”

You look up at him to find his naturally tall stature hunched over to be at eye level with you. Surely, if anyone to walk into the scene, they’d think you two were stopping the competition just to make out. Even though Xavier’s hand is firmly pressed just between your ear and shoulder and he was just over an inch close to you so that your noses are barley touching, it’s not like that at all. Yet, at least.

“That’s what I just asked.” Your eyebrows stitch together bitterly, “Can you not hear, clown? You don’t understand how hard it is for me to watch my reputation die because of you and your perfect grades and your perfect art. What makes you think you can just parade yourself around to be better than me?!” The questions leave a burning sensation in your throat.

“Reputation? Grades? Is that what this is about?”

“YES! Are you DENSE?!”

Instead of matching your violent glower, you watch as the clown leans his head to the side in laughter. His lips parting just enough so you can see his sharp teeth laugh at you too, “Y/n, did you just call me dense? What is that? An insult? At least I’m not the one who always scores lower than me.”

Embarrassment? Anger? Nervousness? Why was his laugh the thing to make you feel weak now? Maybe the first two are theories, but the third is a definite fact. Your eyes are quickly drawn in by his hazel pupils, curious and dilated as they stare back at you. For a moment, the silence between you two isnt filled with hate or rivalry, but peace. That is until he lets out a breathy laugh after getting a good look at your calm face for once.

“Y/n, cat got your tongue? Or do you just not have anything else to say to me other than ‘I hate you’ and ‘stop being better than me’?” He points a finger to your feline head accessory.

"Shut up.” You bark, “Dumb isn’t really a good insult either. You are so full of shit—"

Xavier moves closer, now toe to toe with you and just a breath away from your face.

“God, Y/n, cant you see that I like you? All this time I thought it was so obvious. I mean, how are you going to tell people you're the smartest person in the room when you cant even pick up on subtle hints that basically spell it out for you?” He says, “Or are you too busy to notice anyone other than yourself?”

His words cause your heart to pound once, twice, and before you know it you can’t hear anything but the thumping in your chest and the soft winds surrounding you both. Xavier parts his lips again, determined to give you the answers you've been so desperately searching for.

“Do you know how fucking exhausting it is to pretend I hate you back, just to have the opportunity to talk to you?” His tone is exasperated and shallow, but he doesn't break eye contact with you, “You seriously thought all those times we got close was because I wanted to be ‘better’ than you in some subject?” Almost like he doesn't believe you, Xavier shakes his head in disapproval, “The only time Ive wanted to prove to you I'm worth something is now.”

His confession only fills your head with more questions, “That doesn't even make any sense! How can you say you didn't actually want to be better than me when that's all you did?” You feel the heat saturate into a dark pink that settles into your cheeks, “And why are you telling me all this now? Why are you so adamant on telling me that you—”

Xavier doesn't even acknowledge your questions, he just continues to hold a burning tension between you and him, focusing only on one thing.

Fuck.

Maybe its the fact hes so close, or that he told you hes liked you all this time, but right now it feels like nothings stopping you from telling him too. It just feels so right.

Before you know it, your mouth opens on its own, your bottom lip trembling for just a second. Xavier’s eyes trail down to your lips, then back into your eyes, and a small smirk pulls the corner of his ivory painted skin up.

Without another second to lose, Xavier tilts even closer than he thought he’d ever be to you and cups your cheek, finding the courage you both need to pull you into an unexpected kiss.

The pastiness of your rival’s white face paint rubs against your dewy skin as the taste of him spreads across your pallet, rough, warm, and agonizingly slow. With a gentle hand, you bunch the back of Xavier’s thin yet airy suit and fall into him, curving just enough so he can extend his hold on you.

Xavier knew that he wanted to touch you. It’s basically been his dream ever since he got close to you and seemingly hurdled himself into being your rival. But he’d never admit that. Or maybe, now he would. Gently, Xavier clasps onto your hips more carefully, securely rubbing his fingers against the skin tight latex uniform you were forced to wear which gives him enough grip to hook his desperate palms onto your body.

You break away for a second, just long enough to look at his face and how mesmerized he is by you and just how fucked you are in this downward spiral of messy feelings and requited love. Love you are much too afraid to commit to. But, Xavier pulls you back into his lips and makes you forget all of your worries, even the one you're supposed to be most worried about.

The kiss practically captures you for what seems like an eternity, erasing all memory of the Poe Cup and time spent hating Xavier's guts only to now realize that that hate may have been fueled by a painfully simple crush. But you wouldn't admit that either. Though, now there’s no other explanation to the methods behind your madness.

Soon enough, your hands find their rightful place in his long, messy hair, scooting his jester cap off easily. Had you known his hair was this soft before? You always told yourself you didn't care but now it was too hypnotizing not to twirl your fingers in. In fact, it’s practically asking you to grab it and play with it, screaming at you to touch it, touch him.

Xavier’s hips press into yours, giving you the go ahead to adjust your position so that your thigh is comfortably resting atop his hip. The stance feels too natural to be normal, and you're both caught off guard by it. Yet, you continue to taste him and feel him up close without another thought.

Nipping at your bottom lip, you can feel Xavier let out a sigh of relief, as if kissing you has been something on his mind for years. Only half of that could be true. Still, his victory cheer makes you do your own version with a quieter huff.

You give the roots of his hair a tight squeeze before your shoulders relax and another sigh escapes from your now open mouth. The force of his lips smashing against yours pushes you back successfully, leaving each part of your body to surrender to his. For once, you let it and as much as you hate to admit it, whatever he was doing was working.

When he finally pulls away, your breath is harsh and so is his. No matter how hard you could try, looking away from his hazy eyes was not an option. Just like the fog around you both, his gaze is inescapable and suffocating. You knew kissing your rival was a bad idea, but neither one of you want to move your hands from their proper places on each other.

Just then, a distant voice calls out to Xavier that snaps you out of your absentmindedness. “Shit,” Xavier curses softly against your lips, “Thanks for that Y/n,” he pulls away, much to your hidden displeasure, “But...I have a cup to win.”

Suddenly, it all comes hurdling back.

“FUCK! THE RACE!” You tear yourself away from Xavier, breaking the warmth between you both, and scramble to find your flag, “YOU CONNIVING SON OF A BITCH. YOU DISTRACTED ME!”

“I hope you don't mind but I actually sort of hid it.” He grins slyly at you, straightening his suit with a swift rub on his chest, “No rules, remember?” He pulls out a flag from behind him and snickers. Has he had that this entire time?

A flash of surging anger fumes inside of your chest, but Xavier just smiles. In his mind, it’s almost laughable how you fell for his devious yet successful confession slash plan. It was too good to pass up. And judging by the sour pout on your face, it worked!

“Y/n,” He chirps, “Was I a good distraction?” He can’t help but ask.

You avoid his gaze and turn your head to other possible directions your flag can be in, “You're the worst, Xavier.”

He runs a hand through his brown hair and smooths it down, “Right, right. You hate me. But I got you pretty good, didn’t I?” He picks up his jester cap and lazily smashes it onto the top of his head, “I'm gonna go, but, you should totally meet me in my dorm tonight? At 8?”

He makes his hasty exit before you can reply, leaving you breathless and weak in the knees—mostly tight fisted and furious, but still, weak in the knees.

“So, Y/n. Do you want to explain why you...left for so long..?” Your teammate asks, kind of scared to ask in the first place but confusion was eating her alive. How fitting.

Instead of answering, you reply with strong and swift robotic motions that quickly thunk your boat along the shore line, taking a good chunk out of the grass and soil. Unfortunately, half way through your synchronized rowing, some water kicked up into the boat and soaked your costume. You didn't care though. All you wanted was Xavier.

And his head on a stick.

Sounds of congratulatory cheers erupt from the crowd as Xavier and the rest of his jester-like teammates hold up the Poe Cup trophy together.

“Bitch.” Is all you can say when all your other teammates wash up next to you, sad, defeated, and soaked with murky lake water.

“Well get them next time, Y/n. Don’t be so hard on yourself!” Your friend smiles happily.

Yeah. Tonight.

#wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday fanfic #wednesday series #wednesday fic #wednesday xavier #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe fanfic #wednesday netflix #kaicubus

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traffytaffy · 2 months

Text

OP men and being “told”they are in love with you:

Ft. Law, Kid, Zoro

Cw: implied fem reader (mainly in zoro’s part)

Ngl, not much of a fan of this so i might make a follow up! lmk if i should!

Part 2

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Law:

Oh boy.

This man doesnt realize it until one of his crew members tell him. He’ll give you small smiles when youre not looking. Completely mesmerized at you: Your focus, your dedication, your delicateness with every task performed. But most importantly: your smarts. Every-time you spoke, he would stop what he was doing and listen intently at whatever subject it was. Which was how the crew…mainly ikkaku, Shachi, and Penguin, knew there was a special interest.

“Am I in love with y/n? I dont see how thats any of your business”

Law says, looking at an accusatory Ikkaku.

“Captain. I can see that look on your face. You’re all red.”

“No im not.”

“Oh yes you a-“

“Room”

After that, It really got him thinking. Why did he get all flustered? No. There is no way he was in love. It was just a coincidence that he happened to get all worked up around you. That his heart would beat a little faster. That he was willing to drop whatever he was doing to help/listen or be with you. That he spoke more softer and less stern too. That was all a coincidence….right?

“Captain? Who’s that tiny person you’re drawing on your sticky note? Are you distracted by something? Is that… y/n?”

“Don’t any of you know how to knock?!”

A blue bubble surrounds the submarine.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Kid:

Same as Law.

He doesn’t realize his behavior till a teasing Killer points it out.

“I didn’t take you to be such a romantic, Kid.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

His soft tone of voice in comparison of his rough one. The way he yelled at everyone except you. The way his brows furrowed every time he saw you talking to someone else. The way he locked himself in his workshop and didn’t let anyone in when he saw you enjoying yourself with another crew member that wasn’t him. Killer was the one who found him and he could see right through Kid.

What was this feeling? Why was he more angry?

“You were staring at them that whole time. You’re jealous huh?” Killer asks, Kid could sense the grin from under his mask.

“Jealous? For fucks sake. No”

Killer shakes his head with a laugh and mutters “Whatever you say” before leaving the room.

Kid scoffs. Killer didn’t know anything. This is how he always acted….right? I mean you were beautiful… but that didn’t affect him right? You shouldn’t be all smiley and happy with anyone besides him.. thats just a friendly way of thinking right?

“Eustass? Killer sent me in here cause he said you needed my help with something?” You walk in all shy and innocently. You didn’t know about the little trick Killer was pulling on Kid.

Kid turns soft when he sees you and becomes a blushing and stuttering mess for how caught off-guard he was from your sudden appearance. This, as everything else, enrages him.

And who else is to blame for this?

“KILLER IM GOING TO KILL YOU!”

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Zoro:

He knows what he feels. He just doesn’t want to believe or pursue his own feelings.

Every-time he sees you, his heart beats faster. But this wasn’t the same fast heart rate he got when he was training. Nope. It was every time you were in his presence. Every brush of skin. Every-time he saw you fight. Every time you assisted him in anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t have time for romance.”

“Ah! So you’re not even denying it!You’ve never told Sanji off when it came to him flirting with us, but now you suddenly do?”

Nami says, pointing at herself and Robin next to her, referring to the event that led for the crew figuring out he was in love with you. Sanji was serving ice cold drinks he made for the hot summer day and as usual…he got flirty. But once Sanji got to you, his heart eyes and kneeling position in front of you as if you were accepting his hand in marriage. Zoro’s eyebrows furrowed and he stood up from where he was napping.

“Leave them alone Sanji. Can you not be a creep for one day?!”.

Although Sanji would’ve made a snarky remark back. He didn’t. Sanji looked stunned? He looked back at Nami and Robin from where they sat at and Nami shrugged, while Robin gave a knowing smile.

“You two don’t know crap. I don’t have time for this”

Suddenly, you walk in..

You look at Robin and Nami who were hovering over Zoro cleaning his swords on the bench. Although you were confused, you shrugged it off.

“Oh hey…” you say… “Zoro, wanna train?”

Zoro looks away and starts to stutter.

“Oh uhm…s-sure…”

Nami and Robin smirk at him, which is met with a death glare.

“Im slicing all of you.”

#one piece #trafalgar law #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #one piece eustass #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #trafalgardwaterlaw #zoro x reader #law x reader #eustass x reader

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doki-doki-imagines · 3 months

Text

wc: 10k (next time I write this much shoot me down from the start) author note: wrote this to celebrate one year since I have been writing for bllk! Since my first post was about Sae I thought to celebrate with a fic about him. If you know me a bit, you know Sae is far from being one of my faves so I feel like a clown writing this much for him sob.

tw: none. 10k words of fluff more or less.

If you like my writing consider supporting me on ko-fi!

You are sitting on an iron bench, wet from head to toe, with no way to protect yourself from the incessant rain. Your makeup is ruined and tears can’t be discerned from the droplets of rain running down your face.

You look desperate and there is no need to look at your face to understand that, you supporting your head with your hands is enough, crouched on yourself, sighs sound dulled by the downpour.

“You look pathetic.” It’s a familiar voice, one that makes your skin crawl and now increases your heartbeat to dangerous levels. You look up and you see him, in all his cold beauty. He is wearing a brown boiled wool coat, underneath a turtleneck black sweater peaking out. He is looking down at you, like a high-class rich when he sees a snotty kid, the grey umbrella covers a bit his face, but those ice irises pierce your figure anyway.

“Sae-“ You whisper out your voice full of disbelief and shame.

But how did you find yourself in such a miserable situation? We have to go back a bit.

One year ago

You have never been a fan of parties, they can be a good way to unplug your brain for a bit before going back to normal life. But after a while you need a break, the music and sweaty bodies overwhelm your senses. Your friend Elisa stays back, a guy caught her attention but she asks where you’ll go, in case she won’t see you for long.

You go outside, the cold breeze of winter hits your naked skin making you shiver, but at least you can now breathe. There is nobody else outside other than you and a red hair sitting on the small brick wall on the opposite side of the entrance. You decide to sit there too, at a safe distance not wanting to bother him but close enough to start a chat in case you stay there a little longer than needed.

You look around a bit, breathing in and out while you notice the leaves moving and bushes filled with trash. It’s not a great sight and for sure straining your sight for that doesn’t seem a good idea, so your eyes fall on the stranger sitting next to you. He is now checking his phone, red strands framing his face. You notice his long lashes, it’s always guys that have the crazy luck to have doe lashes, the lower ones touching the apple of his cheeks. He looks young, but he has a mature aura around him, an idea that comes from both his posture and his clothes. The sky-blue shirt he is wearing must be crazy expensive-

“Can you stop looking at me?” You widen your eyes, now comically big.

“You mean-“ You point a finger towards yourself, but you can’t finish the phrase that the guy snaps back.

“Yes, you. Stop looking at me.” He finally faces you, his teal eyes staring at you as you’d do with a cockroach; the same amount of disgust.

He stands up now in front of you “You must be the friend of my physiotherapist, right?”

You nod. After all, it is thanks to her if tonight you are here, at a party full of famous football players and hot beyond imagination models…you must stick out like a sore thumb.

“I guess you recognized who I am. Please, stop. I don’t want to know you, I don’t have time for a relationship.”

Your mouth is wide open.

“I don’t know who you are-“

“Yeah, sure. I have to go now. Don’t follow me.” He doesn’t even wave back, he just gives you his back and walks away.

You have never felt so angry in your life, and you had to deal with a lot of assholes to reach this point in your life.

You stomp inside, searching for Elisa to ask what the fuck is wrong with people and you find there, the guy from before still next to her but there are also other guys and girls and him. The first reaction is to walk away, possibly closing yourself inside the bathroom until they finished chatting or, at least, that guy walked away, but luck isn’t on your side your friend already waving at you signaling to go sit with her.

There is just your friend's body between you and that guy, but this time it’s your eyes that throw daggers at him every time he just even breathes your way; he doesn’t seem to care and it angers you even more.

“Oh let me present you to Sae! He is the football guy I work for!” She said looking at you with a smile that goes from one ear to the other, alcohol playing crazy tricks in her mind not to notice your cracked mood. You extend your hand, trying to be a decent person and you see him sighing. Why punching idiots is not acceptable in modern society? Maybe because you probably wouldn’t be able to stop, after hitting that ugly mug the first time.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Sae.” Your smile is fake, but you think you do a good job of hiding your feelings. The handshake is short, but while you tighten the grip to show you aren’t a weakling, the red hair slips his hand away the second your palms touch.

“Call me Itoshi.”

“Mh? Is that your name?”

“No, it’s my surname. I don’t like strangers to call me by my name.” He replies, back now hitting the red sofa of the club, looking somewhere on the dancefloor, probably at the butt of some dancer.

You look straight into the eyes of your friend and something finally clicks in her mind because you see cold sweat forming on her forehead after the interaction you had with Sae. No, wait. Itoshi.

“Well, guys-“ She claps her hand “it’s time for us to go, thanks for having us.” She stands up and you follow while she finishes to say goodbye to her colleagues. “See you tomorrow, Sae. Don’t exaggerate with drinks!” It’s clearly a joke, her tongue pokes out and Sae smiles back at her.

He would be cute. If only he isn’t such a shit. Your heart almost jumped with joy when the corner of his lips turned upwards, but your brain, thankfully reminded your body how he treated you a few minutes ago.

The walk towards your friend’s car is silent, the people inside the club making enough noise. Your silence gets broken when you enter the vehicle, before your friend can turn the engine on she stares at you.

“I leave you alone a few minutes and you get in a catfight with my client, really?” There is no real anger in her voice, knowing her position isn’t in danger. So you explode at her, telling her chapter and verse of what happened between you two.

“Is he always such an asshole? I feel sorry for you, I hope he pays you enough.” Your friend’s head hits the headrest, and a loud bubbly laugh escapes her mouth.

“Is he worse? Fuck maybe you should change job-“

“No, no. It’s that I invited you tonight because I hoped you could get together in the future.” Her voice is often broken by laughter and finally, anger free, you remember that she probably has drunk too much.

“Let’s switch, you are drunk.”

“No, c’mon. Sae is usually nice! He is a bit cold, but I thought a partner, or just a friend-” and it’s not hard for you to imagine he has nobody to talk with, every time he opens his mouth it’s the same as having two fingers in your eyes “You are also single, so I thought it could work out!” She slaps your shoulder and keeps giggling and now you are sure that you need to be the one to drive you both home.

“Don’t ever leave your job, you suck at playing Cupid-“ You giggle too, finally switching places and driving you both home.

The drive is filled with useless chatter, your friend seemed really into that dude of before, Leonardo is his name? Tomorrow with a more lucid mind you’ll dig more into your friend's new crush.

And you hope you’ll soon forget about that asshole of teammate too.

8 months ago

When you return home after an intense day of work, the bare minimum you request is complete relaxation. No parties, no worries, no discussions; it’s the perfect way to welcome the weekend.

What you don’t want is to get jumpscared before you can even step in, a certain teal-eyed dude the first thing your eyes see.

“Fuck!” You are tempted to close the door, maybe it’s all your imagination and when you reopen he, the Itoshi, won’t be there anymore. But you don’t live in a fantasy world, sadly, so you know you’ll have the accept your fate.

“What happened?” It’s your friend’s voice screaming from the kitchen.

“Nothing, I’ve just seen a cockroach.” You reply with a monotone voice, closing the door with your foot.

You look better at the intruder, sitting on your couch. One hand has the remote, zapping between the channels, the other lying on the top of the furniture, fist keeping up his head.

He turns to look at you “Did you see yourself in the mirror?” And the sudden urge to hit him with the house key pervades your body. You groan at his comment, but decide to drop the topic; you have no energy to get angry.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t tell you before but Sae is staying with us this week. His apartment is flooded and all his teammates couldn’t help him out.” She comes into the living room with a bowl of…freshly cut vegetables? You suppose it was your guest's request, as much as Elisa likes carrots there is no way this was a choice born from her brain.

Now you know why she didn’t tell you anything about it. You would have taken a hotel room and made Elisa pay for it if you knew what was going on. He, at least, thanks her and it surprises you because you thought he didn’t know what manner are. Or common courtesy.

“I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” You sigh, your mind already adjusted to the idea of having that dude in your house. ‘It won’t be forever. Calm down. Don’t shout, don’t get angry.’ You repeat to yourself while wearing the comfiest pj in your wardrobe; you need it.

When you go back into the living room the film was already chosen, but you don’t mind, so tired that you know you’ll fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow. The chat gets louder and definitely pick your interest.

“We both go to medical field universities! I finished my studies at home and as you know I work here, but-“ Elisa points her index finger at your figure, a fluffy cover hiding your body all crouched up on a side of the couch not to touch, or just get near, the guest “She is still studying to become a doctor! She will stay here one year and then she will need to go back home to finish her studies, right?” You nod at your friend's words, now looking at the film.

“The film isn’t bad.” You whisper, humming in agreement.

“It was my choice.” A deeper voice replies back, it’s Sae.

You look at him until you meet his teal eyes. You see an equal amount of tiredness in his eyes and you seem to silently agree not to sassy reply back.

You are able to look at the film without falling asleep, at times you can feel Elisa asking stuff to Sae but you are too distant to understand what they say. There is a pang of jealousy that stabs your heart, usually, you chat with Elisa while watching films and you don’t like the idea of being substituted by him.

You try to brush away the feeling. Maybe she is the one who has a crush on him, and even if you think she has questionable taste you won’t put yourself against their love. You yawn the second the end credits start to roll. You decide to go to bed, since you have no strength to add yourself to their pillow-talk, in the shared room you have to Elisa.

“I’ll come soon too.” She whispers while you nod, walking away; probably she wants a moment with her crush. You don’t even hear her opening the door, your brain voyaging dreamland the second your head hit the pillow.

You are the first to wake up in the morning, you step toward the kitchen trying not to wake up your roommate, and start to prepare coffee for the both of you. You are so used to making it that it becomes an automatism. It’s when the moka is on the fire that you start to look around, noticing a package that definitely wasn’t yours or of Elisa.

“That’s mine.” You hear croaking behind you, the sound makes you jump on your place.

“Yeah, it seemed pretty obvious. What is it? Some kind of tea?”

“Yes, it is salted kombucha tea. Want to try it?”

You snort and Sae looks at you questioningly, probably thinking his pronunciation is wrong.

“I hate tea. I’m team coffee.” You say pointing with your thumb to the moka, now gurgling a sign that your coffee is ready. Sae looks at you with disgust, a face you know pretty well by now.

“We are really different.”

“I was thinking that too.” You say now giving him the back to take the cups on the high shelf, a spoonful of sugar in your cup, nothing in Elisa's one.

Meanwhile, he has moved, opening the window of your kitchen. Summer is starting but the weather is still acceptable, morning breeze is a nice way to freshen the house.

“You want to make your own tea or I can do it for you? Do you trust me?” You say smirking, already knowing the answer.”

“I prefer to make it myself.”

You nod, a Chesire smirk plastered on your face. You point out where he can find the kettle, now sitting on the table, right next to the window, your head supported by your right hand.

He soon sits in front of you with his cup of tea, he looks outside for a moment, giving you the possibility to admire his features again.

He has a nice jaw, his skin is pretty smooth, probably he doesn’t have much beard, his upper lip is arched perfectly, his lips plump but not too big or better, they suit his face. His nose is slightly pointed upwards-

“You like to stare.”

Your head slid comically; you got caught, again.

“It happens when I look at beautiful stuff.” Really, the comment slips from your mouth before you can bite your tongue. But you feel him choking on his tea and it soothes the pain.

“You are also bold.” He looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, with such hatred in his eyes you almost worry to have done something way worse than throwing a compliment in his way.

“I just like to joke around.” You smile in your cup, a smile that grows wider when his eyebrows comically drop.

You hear him clicking his tongue, but you don’t say anything more.

You both finish your beverages, but Elisa is still sound asleep.

“Shouldn’t you wake her up?”

“Today is her free day, let her relax a bit.” You reply, putting his cup into the dishwasher.

You see uneasiness in his eyes, there is something he needs to tell you, so you make the first move as a good host.

“Is there something you need?”

“Usually I do yoga and meditate. Can you go out.” He formulated it as a request, but it sounded like an order in your ears.

“Can’t you do it in the living room? Or your bedroom?” You propose.

“My bedroom is too small. There are no windows in the living room and I’d prefer to breathe fresh air.” You nod, his reasoning makes sense and there isn’t else you need to do in the kitchen.

“Can you teach me?” You propose half to piss him off, half because you suffer from terrible neck pain and you know yoga could help you out.

You notice how bad he takes it and you bask in the sensation of being finally able to take a rise of him.

“Don’t you have to go to university? Or I don’t know, student stuff?” He says it fast and makes you chuckle.

“It’s too early! I have all the time of the world now.” You get near him, trying to muster up the nicest puppy eyes ever done “I swear I’ll be a good student and won’t joke around.”

“No.” Your nice façade drop.

“You are a real pain.”

“Look at yourself before saying that.” He looks at you with the same eyes as your encounter. The best choice is to leave him alone, and you do, but not without grumbling.

When you enter your bedroom Elisa is wide awake, already dressed for the day reading a book, a fantasy you guess knowing her taste.

“Mh? Elisa why are you here? You didn’t want to have breakfast with Mr. Sourpuss?” She clearly didn’t notice you entering the bedroom. She closes the book and smiles at your comment.

“I didn’t want to bother your bonding time.” She sing-sangs, book placed on the night table.

“Is this a way to force me to like your new boyfriend?” Your eyes pierce her figure, muscles tense, trying to grasp any twitch or wince on her face. But nothing comes, if anything she replies to you with a pure laugh, not a fake one.

“I don’t see Sae that way, you dunce-“ Elisa stands up, hands now on your shoulders shaking you “I really think you can get along, please give him a chance.” She says exasperated.

“Tell him that, he is always an ass with me, and please-“ You say removing her hands from your shoulders “Stop playing Cupid, it’s really not your job.” You go towards your wardrobe ready to change for the day while Elisa keeps whining but no words get registered in your brain.

You don’t see anybody for lunch, so you spend a quiet afternoon at home, reviewing your notes and refreshing the lesson of the previous day.

Elisa is the first to come home, there is still light outside thanks to the longer summer days and she helps you out cooking dinner.

“We have to cook something healthy, you know-“ She winks “For our guest.”

Damn, for a second you forgot about him. “Shouldn’t he cook? So we are sure to prepare the right stuff.”

“I don’t know how to.” You hear from the living room, it’s his voice. You walk to the living room and you see him, freshly showered you guess from the soft soap smell coming from him and with two bags containing what you guess is food.

“I asked my private chef to cook for all of us.” He says placing the bag on the coffee table in the living room.

“Thanks, Sae!” Elisa says “Let me take these to the kitchen, I’ll prepare the table.”

“Do you need help?” Elisa brushes off your question “I know how to put a tablecloth and cutlery.”

To you, it sounded like an excuse to make you stay alone with the redhair.

“Thanks, Itoshi.” You hate how his surname rolled on your tongue, but you had to accept it.

He nods, removing his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack. You don’t miss to notice how at home he already feels; for sure he has good adaptation skills.

“So, how was your day?” You try to small chat, to break the unbearable silence it was already forming.

“Like always.” His answer is curt, but you can’t understand if it is because he doesn’t want to talk or just because it is him.

“And yours?” This surprises you.

“It was a good day. I was able to take a lot of good notes and the lesson was interesting.”

He nods at your words “I suppose it is hard.”

“Yes, but it is also really rewarding. For example-“ You start to blabber, and you notice it but you can’t stop, excitement guiding you even if you know your interlocutor has little to no interest in what you are saying. Embarrassing.

“Hey! It’s ready.” It’s Elisa that save you, stopping your blabbering. “What were you talking about?” She asks, curiosity evident.

You’d like to reply but you are too astonished by the food in front of you. Everything looked mouth-watering, you didn’t even know food could get such vivid colors, not to talk about the smell-

“She was telling me about her cardiac surgery lessons.” Sae replies for you, thankfully your eyes are already comically wide thanks to the food in front of you so nobody notices your surprise at his words.

So he was listening?

“Oh! I’m happy you are finally knowing each other, but now let’s eat! We don’t want the food to get cold.” You both nod at Elisa words and damn the food was as beautiful as it was delicious. There is not much chat, enjoying the meal in silence, just the background sound of the television to keep you company.

“Hey, you should accompany Sae to the aquarium one of these days.” Elisa says with a voice full of cheer. It doesn’t take much for you to understand where she took that idea, the advertisement of the aquarium still going on television.

“Well, it all depends on Sae, he has really strict hours-“

“Let’s go tomorrow. I have no training to do.” He says, no real force behind his words like he is just accepting his fate.

You gasp a bit “Oh, okay then. Is it fine in the afternoon?”

He nods, slurping down some of his cold noodles, you can only wish your technique will ever be as good as his, not a single drop of oil staining his shirt or mouth.

The dinner ends quietly, you place the crockery in the dishwasher and go directly into your bedroom.

The morning comes awfully quick and you feel even more tired than when you went to sleep. You proceed with your morning routine, not Elisa nor Sae insight so you take it easy. After you prepare yourself you go back to your books, your attention often grasped by anything going on.

Your attention gets caught one more time by a notification on your phone; it’s Eliza.

“Got a cute lunch date with a cutie. Try not to kill Sae and have a nice date <3” Ugh. She can be so pushy at times. You sigh and notice the hour, it’s time to eat.

When you enter the living room you notice Sae already made himself comfortable on the sofa.

“I didn’t hear you coming in.”

“I tried to be silent. I was doing yoga so I didn’t make much sound.” He replies, boredom dripping from his voice as usual. You nod “Are we blessed again by your chef's food today or I’m on my own?”

“The latter.”

“Oh! Can I make you piadina? It’s an easy dish to make.”

He turns around, teal eyes finally looking at you “What are the ingredients?”

“It’s easy! It’s more or less a circle of bread that gets folded this way and you can choose how to fill it.” You walk near him and show him the screen of your phone, the picture on it the perfect example of a perfect piadina.

“So…I can choose something different than fried potato, right?”

“Yes, you fill it with whatever you want. Simply sausage and fried potatoes with pepperoni is a classic match.” He looks at you with disgust, and at this point it makes you laugh.

“Not a fan? I swear the match is heavenly.”

“Aren’t you a doctor? You should know fried potatoes are toxic to the body.” This time you chuckle out loud.

“Fried potatoes are the last thing you should worry about between the ingredients I told you. And anyway-“ You sign to him to walk with you towards the kitchen “You won’t die eating it once in a while.”

“I don’t know anything about this stuff. I just go with what my manager and dietologist tell me.” He replies, pointing to the fridge with the ingredients he wants.

“No? For real?” You start to cook his one, the guest always comes first.

“Yeah, other than football I don’t know much else.” You notice a hint of sadness in his voice, irises darkening a bit and it tickles something in the back of your brain.

“Well, next time why don’t you help me cook? You may have a personal chef but it is nice to have different skills.”

He nods, he doesn’t burst with joy, but he seems serious. You give him his dish, arugula, and tomatoes. You do the same, half because you like the match and the other half because you don’t want to prepare other ingredients.

You eat in silence, something you already expected.

“Are you ready to go to the aquarium?” You ask, putting the dish in the dishwasher.

He nods giving you his one. Previously Sae asked you if you wanted to go by car “If you don’t trust me I can always call my driver” but you refused his offer, telling him that you’d bring him there gladly and with the perfect vehicle for such a sunny day.

“Good, get ready because my vehicle is amazing.” He bends his head a little, confused by your words, but doesn’t inquire more. He supposes it will be a surprise.

For sure it is a surprise, but not the good kind.

“It’s a bike.” His voice drips venom, but you brush it off.

“Not just a bike, it’s a graziella! Perfect to carry people on the back!” You say, slapping the bike rear-rack.

“It’s too low, it will be uncomfortable for my legs.” He retorts but you don’t desist, smiling back at him.

“In fact, you don’t have to sit, you have to stand up on it on completely trust my skills.” The face he makes is pure comedy, it’s a mixture of scared, anger and, as always, disgust. “C’mon mister Itoshi. I swear you can trust me, not even a bug will hit your precious legs, let alone the ground.” You hear him gulp and see the gears in his brain running, you wait a few seconds but the answer finally arrives.

“Okay, but if something happens to me you’ll pay with interest.” You nod and smile back sitting on the saddle. You soon feel the bike moving under you with the added weight. You start to pedal not wanting to lose balance and make you both fall on the ground and his hands immediately find support on your shoulder, gripping tight on them.

“Let’s go!” You shout, the bike is harder to manage but you push forward. The ride is silent, the summer breeze dancing around you two, only gasps can be heard from the guy standing on the back when you take a hole making both the bike and Sae jump. His hands aren’t as tight on you anymore, probably he is trying to trust you as best as he can, it’s pleasing to think he is starting to trust you, the feeling runs to your head becoming a pink fog that makes you feel dangerously well and uncaring. You are sure you would look like a postcard if someone took a photo right now, you feel so peaceful that it’s hard to imagine you look bad right now.

Dangerous because you almost don’t notice that you arrived at the aquarium, pulling harshly on the brakes almost making your guest jump off the bike if it wasn’t for his hands harpooning your shoulders.

“Sorry-“ You say in between your teeth, wincing at your mistake. You hear him scoff but he decides to not salt in the wound.

“Put the bike there, I’ll pay for the tickets.”

“Are you sure? I can pay for my own-“ He doesn’t even listen to you, walking to the ticket office without looking back at you once.

The visit was actually really fun, for you at least, Sae never expressed any kind of emotions, the corners of his lips a line that never twitched upwards or downwards. You see teals eyes looking around, but it seems nothing catches his attention. At least he stops when you ask, not a groan of disapproval, not a happy smile either.

“I like penguins.” You say looking at the glass separating you from the cute bird wobbly on its feet. A gasp of surprise escapes your mouth when one of them dives into the salty water to stop exactly in front of you. You pull at the end of Sae’s shirt, the excitement going straight to your head, too busy being ‘a finger apart’ than ruining your guest's clothes. You shout in happiness but the sound is drowned by the squalls of kids around you.

“I can see.” Finally, a hint of a smile appears on his face, but you are now too busy looking back at the penguins to notice it. Meanwhile, Sae is too busy looking at the features of your face, looking for once at you, not looking down on you. The blue and soft lights of the aquarium make you look like a dream, the joy in your eyes matching your smile.

Something moves inside him, it’s pleasant but it fades in a snap of a finger when you face him again, prompting him to walk towards the next glass. You talk about colorful jellyfish or something like that. It’s not that he is interested in anything there. After all, he accepted Elisa’s offer not to sound too rude even for his standard. But he thinks, that moment of happiness on your face was in part worth the deal.

Not that you’ll notice head entirely elsewhere.

“It was nice. Thanks for paying.” You are now outside, bike on hand while you walk near the seashore. The wind is stronger there, and more than once you shrink in your place, while the guy next to you is perfect, as always. A porcelain doll crafted by the most expert hands ‘too bad they didn’t lose another minute to work on his personality, tho’ you think.

“No problem. Can we stay here a minute longer?” Sae asks, but he is already still, as always it was an order, not a question. You nod, the sun is setting, painting the sea warm colors, waves are big but reduced to nothing when they arrive so near your feet. You see him breathing in, eyes closing to enjoy the moment.

“Do you like the sea, Itoshi?”

“Yes. I used to always visit the beach with my brother.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you have a sibling! Is he hot?” You chuckle, blossoming in full laughter after he sides eye you, annoyance mixing with the green of his eyes.

“He isn’t your type.” He clicks his tongue “You like handsome guys and he is not.” His voice is flat, as usual.

“Handsome guys? Yeah, I like them, obviously but why do you have this idea of me?”

“Simple-“ a smile, a real one, grace his features “You like me.” You gasp at his world, pushing his shoulder, but his body barely move.

“Mister Itoshi, your ego is way too big!” You puff out your cheeks, but there is no real anger in your words.

“Sae.”

“Mh?” The silence lasts very little but it feels like an eternity.

“Call me Sae.” His teal eyes link with yours. His voice is low, serious and makes your knees wobble a little. He looks happy, the sun painting beautiful shades on his fair skin. It’s honestly a breathtaking sight.

“Okay, Sae. Your ego is still too big!” You break the tension, too heavy all of a sudden. Too intense for two strangers who couldn’t even suffer each other.

Just too much.

The spell is broken and you see him wince, ‘probably he didn’t want to sound so intense’ you think telling him to go back home. The ride is silent, when midway it’s Sae who decides to talk.

“Why are people looking at us weird?”

“Maybe because you are a football superstar?”

“No, the look when people recognize me is different.” You hum, but you come up with another motivation quick.

“Maybe because you are the one being carried! Usually is the guy that carries around the woman.” You state, no malice in your words. He is silent for a few seconds.

“Let’s switch.”

“You don’t have to worry, I don’t care about this-“

“I said stop pedaling and switch places with me.”

“Stop ordering me around! Plus if you have never done that there is no way you can keep me-“

“If you don’t switch I’ll jump off the bike, I’ll hurt myself and do you remember what you promised me this afternoon?” You feel more of his weight on your shoulders like he wants to remind you of his upper position, just figurately now “I’ll make you you pay, remember?” It’s the same voice he used on you the first time you met and it made you reflexly pull the brakes, this time slower so he could jump off without any risk.

He sits on your place and clicks his head, as a sign for you to stand on the back.

“But if you hurt me? What do I gain?” Your voice is wobbly, not trusting him at all. Your hands grip tightly on his shoulders and you are sure there will be a red sign there tomorrow.

“I’ll kiss it better. Now shut up.” He starts pedaling, not checking you once. For sure you didn’t like his answer but jumping off now sounded like a good way to sprain your ankle.

“Do you know at least the road to go home!?” He takes a hole and makes you jump, you suppose it’s the karma for how you drove before

“…okay. Talk just to tell me where to go.”

You arrived home, safe and sound. You don’t kiss the ground just because you don’t want to act overdramatic, but feeling the ground under your feet with no wounds on your legs seems a real miracle. Elisa welcomes you both with a big smile, her eyes are tired but you notice a drop of happiness in her eyes so you do not worry. The week goes by naturally. You and Sae don’t banter as often, but calling what you have a friendship would be a stretch, Elisa still tries to push you into something more, but her attempts are failures, if not disasters most of the time. Thankfully Sae doesn’t dig further, not that he cares since he is so sure you have a mind-numbingly, heart-shattering crush on him anyway.

The real surprise comes when he goes back home, everyone is back to their normal life ‘till one day receives a message from an unknown number. It’s not a text, but a picture of you two, of when you were going to the aquarium since you were the one pedaling. There are ginormous texts on the sides probably it has been published by one of those gossip magazines you tend to avoid.

“Who are you?” You text back, and an answer will not be long in coming.

“Sae. Elisa gave me your number.” You smile thinking how happy she probably was when Sae asked for it. She was probably giggling like a schoolgirl.

“Why did you contact me? It’s a problem if we were seen together?”

“No” A dry texter, exactly what you expected.

“Then let me say; we really looked beautiful.” You write it with a heart bursting in happiness. You both looked happy, your faces radiating joy. You may not be an earth-shattering beauty but nobody would have been able to sincerely say you looked bad.

“We did.”

You are happy to know he feels the same.

5 months ago

You are at a beach party. Honestly, you would rather be somewhere else but after closing yourself for two months at home to pass your exams you need a bit of fresh air. Summer is now leaving its place to autumn, the days are still long, but at least the temperature is acceptable. Stars are shining high in the sky and everyone seems to enjoy the party. You wear a cute dress, ‘the one for good occasions’ you repeat to yourself. It’s not tight, the skirt is large enough that you can easily move around, but it hugs your waist before getting larger again on the chest area-

“Hey-“ Elisa elbows you “Sae is sitting on the couch all alone, why don’t you keep him company.” She laughs but this time it isn’t for the alcohol; she is just dumber because she could get with her crush, Leonardo. Actually, he was the one to set the party all teammates and their partners invited. You actually came thanks to Elisa's invite, but you would be lying if you said that it didn’t matter seeing Sae.

Something more keen to a friendship developed between you two during these months, the messages you exchanged a clear sign. What surprised you the most was that he also was the one to start conversations, asking if you were fine, checking if everything was okay. You had no other occasion to meet in person, between matches and studies you both had your hands full, so you don’t mind actually catching up with him.

“Hey sourpuss, it has been a while!” You plop down on the couch next to him. He widens his eyes in surprise, looking like a scared kitten, before returning to the bored expression, not even greeting you.

“Not even a hello? Bad night for our Casanova?” You chuckle as he clicks his tongue knowing full well you are teasing him.

“You know I’m not interested in a romantic relationship.” He is bored out of his mind and you decide to tease him some more…maybe you drunk too much.

“Well, it seems to me you are liking that girl over there. Your eyes are glued to her-“ You can’t finish the phrase, his index finger pressing against your lips.

“I never thought you were one for physical contact.”

“Never know you liked to drink this much either.” He takes the drink from your hand and takes a sip from it. “It actually tastes good.”

“I know it, you big bully! I just wanted to cheer you up and I get treated this way.” You whine. The redhead looks at you for a minute too long, pondering what to do, when his hand decides to find the crown of your head, patting you.

“Shh baby, everything is fine.” It’s a smile full of mirth and it reminds you that he is really handsome, in case your memory fails you. You must look like a pathetic cat in front of him, all pouty and a bit stupid thanks to alcohol.

“I just wanted to spend some time with you.” You whisper out, but for sure he could hear it, getting closer to you. This time you don’t see any mirth in his eyes, back to his usual seriousness so you decide to be direct with your feelings. “I missed you. That week living together made me really change my opinion of you.” This time you don’t whisper and you see Sae getting taken back by your words, batting his long lashes at your words. You can’t hold his gaze so you fix yourself on the fire in front of you, made to perfectly set the beach party atmosphere.

“Then we should meet more often.” You look back at him, but this time it’s Sae looking elsewhere, not at a specific person on the dancefloor, simply looking in front of him. “Taken with moderation it’s nice talking with you.” It’s his usual sarcasm and you feel melting, like he just removed a heavy weight you didn’t even know to carry.

“Okay, let’s promise!” You hold your pinky out and it makes Sae raise his eyebrow.

“I appreciate you wanting to integrate my culture, but we stop doing that after elementary sch-“

“Shhh, don’t break the magic! Just do it!” He sighs before rolling his eyes but at the end, he gives up intertwining your pinkies together.

“From now on we promise to see each other more often, like good friends!” The words roll from your mouth carelessly, even if you are serious about it. You feel Sae tightening your grip on your pinkie at the ‘good friends’ part but you don’t give it much importance.

“Are you next week?”

“Yes, I am now that exams ended! Do you have something in mind?” You ask a bit too excited.

“My manager told me to participate in a cooking video or something along those lines. He said it would be good for my image and they pay a lot, but-“

“You hate not being prepared, right?” You interrupt “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a mouth-watering recipe!” And you compliment yourself for being really smooth when your hand, linked to his just by your pinkie, perfectly slides to hold it, palm to palm but not bold enough to intertwine fingers. Sae doesn’t jerk away from your touch if anything holding your hand tighter before nodding at your words. He holds your gaze and just then you notice how close his face is to yours, how there is just a whiff separating your lips…

“It’s time for the toasts! Everyone come!!” The shout of one of Sae's teammates awakes you both from the moment separating you two as quickly as you got near to each other. You don’t talk much to each other the rest of the night and you decide not to overthink what just happened, you probably drank too much and he probably was too tired to tell you to step back. For sure beach liked to play tricks on you.

Obviously, not overthinking was easier said than done, even with a pounding headache your mind started to wander and it only got worse when Sae texted his free day, to which you replied with a thumbs up. You aren’t worried about the recipe to make him cook, you have done it countless times and your mother sent you the right ingredients not so long ago. You are worried because maybe you are harboring feelings for him and you’d hate to tell him he was right all along. You can already see his smile, going from one ear to the other; you can accept being rejected, but not being made fun of.

Thankfully Lady Luck is on your side the day you finally meet up, but in a wicked way, making the chain of your bike drop something you had never to deal with. So when you hear the bell ringing your mind goes in tilt not being able to choose if panicking for your bike or for the guy in front of your door.

“Hi Sae.” You whisper out, leaning on your door.

“You are dirty.”

“Is this some new kind of dirty talking-“ He pushes you to the side, entering the house.

“So what happened? You look like a flea that just swam in petroleum.”

“You are always so delicate Sae.” You slump your shoulders before explaining what happened “I tried to watch a video to fix it myself but it was no use.”

“I can help, where is the bike?” You look up, hope shining in your eyes.

“Oh the garage is the first left door at the end of the corridor, but are you sure-“ Sae already walked away, the squeak of the garage door telling you he got the right door.

When you reach him he is already on his knees, fingers deftly working to put the greasy chain in its place.

“Done.” He flips the bike as easily as you’d flip a pancake, not even a sneer of fatigue appears. “Anything else?” You are shocked by how fast he fixed it.

“Aren’t you the one that doesn’t know anything other than football?”

“Yeah, but I had a childhood too. My little brother always messed it up. Do you have anything to wash the grease off?” You nod wanting the clean yourself up too.

“Now that we are all cleaned up, let’s cook! Today I want to teach you how to make tortellini, a type of stuffed pasta, have you ever heard of it?” The red hair waves his head left and right, you see curiosity in his eyes and it makes something bubble in you. “I have already done the filling, it’s easy to make later I’ll tell you the ingredients, but now let’s focus on the dough. As you can see I did a little fountain with the flour and we will have to put the yolks and the eggs white inside, like this-“ You show it to him, his teal eyes still fixed on your movements “Now grab a fork and start to mix, not everything together, just a bit and then always more until you can start to knead with your hands.” This is the worst part, the dough is hard and you need a lot of strength to mix it to perfection. “Wanna give me a hand?” You gasp already tired. He nods, but you didn’t expect him to help in this way.

His right hand locks with yours, the other already at the bottom of the dough, and his chest is impossibly close to your back. You feel his chin on top of your shoulder, his breath hitting your neck.

It’s intimate, too intimate for your standards.

“H-Hey thanks but you don’t need to hug the chef to do it, you know?” You chuckle awkwardly, trying to move your head far from his, but his body caging you doesn’t let you move far.

“Mh? Sorry I thought it could work better. Feeling how your fingers work on the dough and everything.” It sounds like a poor excuse even for your ears, but you brush it off his arms not blocking you anymore; probably he just needed affection or something like that.

You move to the side, watching him knead, but your eyes soon travel up, to his face noticing a new detail…

“You have freckles?”

“I get them when I tan, I hate them.” The corner of his plush lips turn downwards, his hands working harsher on the dough.

“Why? They make you more human.”

“What are you saying? That I’m a cyborg?” He stops, green irises gazing straight into yours.

“I’m saying that looking ‘imperfect’ makes you more beautiful Sae.” You say it as a universal truth, your voice doesn’t waver, and your eyes don’t either. This time it’s he who has to break the eye contact, you see him biting his inner cheek.

“So now?” He points at the dough.

“Now we have to roll it out. We should use a rolling pin, but it is too much of a pain so we’ll use another device-”

“No, let me do the old way. I’m not a weakling like you.” His voice drips of malice and the urge to knock his head with the rolling pin is harder than ever.

“Okay then, use it. I’m curious to see how you’ll handle it.” Sae takes it from your hand and tries to use it. The shape wouldn’t even be bad if it wasn’t so poorly distributed, some places thin others awfully thick, plus you can see he isn’t using the right muscles, making him more sore than he should be.

“You are terrible, can’t you see it all has different thickness? Move let me show you how to do it.” You push him away, no real force In your movement but he moves away, giving you the rolling pin with a provocative demeanor. “We say you have to make love with the dough, use your hips like this and you won’t have to use all your arm strength. Now do it.” You give the utensil back, Sae nods eyes filled with concentration.

Too bad he keeps making the same mistake. You click your tongue “Sae, do I have to teach you how to make love?” You snicker when he sides-eye you.

“Okay mister icicle, let me show you again how to do that.” Your hands lay on his hips but you look at his face to understand if you crossed any boundary, but he doesn’t say anything, to say the truth he doesn’t even look at you, so you take it as consent. “Instead of using just your arm strength, help yourself with a push of the hips like this-“ You move it synched with his hands twice, before letting go of the hold you have on him. “Yeah, that’s exactly how you should do it!” You notice Sae smiling, it lasts very little but it is there and you feel really proud of his work.

Then you teach him how much filling is needed inside and how to close them up.

“I can’t do it, my fingers are too chubby, see?” The half-made tortellino’s dough tears in his hands that are, in fact, a bit too chubby to deftly close it.

“Hey, don’t trash it away! You can’t fix it but you can always have…an early taste.” You reply, winking at him.

“But won’t it be dangerous? The filling is cooked, but the pasta-“

“I swear you won’t die superstar, I’ve done it countless times and I’m as healthy as you are.” You say smacking his shoulder, but by the look, the redhair isn’t fully convinced. “C’mon try it!” You spur him like a granny urging her nephew to eat her home-cooked meal.

The shine in Sae’s eyes after the bit of food hit his tastebuds is a telltale sign that you really nailed the recipe. Not that you had any doubt to start with.

You finish closing them up and invite him for dinner telling him that Elisa is out so she won’t mind. Sae refuses your offer, his manager needs to see him so they’ll dine together.

“Well at least bring back home a bag of these!”

“Won’t you die of starvation?”

“Don’t act stupid, I won’t give you them all, I’m not that nice!” You prepare two servings “In case you want to share a meal with a special guest.” He replies with a huff, but you don’t care, knowing well how he can be.

“See you soon Sae.”

“If that raw pasta will kill me my lawyer will bang at your door.” He replies already out and walking towards the driver he called before.

“Don’t be overdramatic, it doesn’t suit you, ice man.” He smiles back at you behind the window of his car but you can’t see him since it is tinted.

From that day you don’t hear him until the famous cooking video he told you about appear on your screen. Obviously, they made him cook something way easier, too bad he had a blindfold on and his teammate had to tell him what to do.

“I hope your teamwork works better on the football field.” You text him, a winking emoji at the end.

His answer doesn’t long in coming “Worry more about your exams.” It hurts you more than being run over by a car.

3 months before

“Sae can you pick me up?”

“Did something happen?”

“Nothing that bad, but could you?”

“Send me your position, I’m coming.”

“Thanks” You sniff.

You are not used to crying, or better, you are not used anymore. Years of university thickened your skin enough to be able to deal with most wounds.

Most, not all.

You studied hard for this exam, it was one of the few ones you had to do to finally get your degree, one step closer to reaching your dream. But you failed it, and now you’ll have to wait months before being able to take it again. You didn’t meet with anybody, barely talked with Elisa, and you share a bedroom with her, skipped meals to be sure not to lose time, and repeated the paragraphs till your voice gave out.

All of this for a fist of nothing.

You cried and gasped the moment you were far enough from the classroom. Weakness isn’t accepted and pity is a sign you won’t survive long in this world; this is what you’ve been taught. You forgot how shit you could feel while crying, how lonely you are. You wanted to call your parents, they have always been good at reassuring you, but then Sae's name was the first contact to appear and you clicked without thinking twice.

Maybe harsh love is what you need.

You regret your choice the second you hear the first thrill. He must be training, maybe he is in the sweet company of someone, you can already hear his ice-cold voice snapping at you for bothering him. But you don’t have the time to close the call, Sae picked it up and was coming to help.

You recognize the car, it was the same one that picked him up when he went back home from his house, but this time he is the one driving.

“Come in.”

You sit on the soft leather. While you waited for him you tried to dry up your tears to improve your current condition, but to no avail; eyes still red and puffy and some tears still escaping.

“Are you bri-bringing me home?” You brokenly say between gasps.

“No. What happened?” Sae’s eyes stay fixed on the road, raindrops fall on the windshield, ironic how the weather matches your mood.

He snaps his fingers in front of you, bringing you back to earth so you start to tell him what happened.

“I know I must sound so-so dumb but-“ Gasps keep interrupting you “I feel like a failure. Maybe I am.” You look at him, your vision is foggy due to the new tears, but this time he looks back at you. You didn’t even notice he stopped the car, now off the road.

But what it comes to surprise you. No harsh words, no sarcasm.

Sae hugs you, hands patting your back.

“Everyone fails, even cyborg guys like me. Everything can be fixed and a little misstep on the road doesn’t define you as a person.” He pulls away, face relaxed, and goes back to driving.

“One hamburger and a chips portion.”

Were you parked in a fast-food lot? You were so out of your mind and outside is so dark that you didn’t notice. You have been silent, still recovering from the hug and those words that sounded so encouraging and not like Sae at all.

“Why the chips? You don’t like them.” It’s the first thing you are able to blabber, at least you didn’t stutter anymore.

“This isn’t for me. It’s for you.” The redhair says putting the paper bag on your legs “Junk food can be nice once in a while. And stop crying-“ the back of his curled index finger swipes away a lone tear running down your face “I hate looking at ugly stuff and tears reduce you to a really ugly mess.”

Ah, the old Sae is back. You can finally recognize him, with all his rude comments. But something inside you blossoms while he drives you back home and you bite into your hamburger.

Does it mean he finds you beautiful every other time? You feel blood running to your face for a minute you hear a whistle in your ears, but you impose yourself not to bash your head around it. Now you have to find a nice way to explain the situation to Elisa without making her worried sick and hide who brang you home to avoid her dumb smile and endless teasing that would come your way. You look outside the car window, mind already wandering somewhere else.

In the end, Elisa discovered everything, for sure Sae insisting on bringing you inside crumbled to pieces your plan, and your mood was too devasted to be able to efficiently hide your feelings. At least your attention wasn’t on the football star anymore.

Your mind already planned to think about them for the next weeks anyway.

Today. Night

“I suppose the date didn’t go as planned.” Sae doesn’t move, no intention of shielding your body under the umbrella.

“No, but it was my fault.” ‘Because I’m in love with you’ you add in your brain. “You want to know what happened?”

“Not really.”

“Bad for you because I’ll tell you anyway.” You joke between gasps. Sae doesn’t move away but he keeps looking down on you. “He was so nice, he took me to the restaurant and even wanted to pay. The small talk was incredible and we have a lot in common-“ You look down, not able to keep his gaze “But my heart is for someone who considers me barely a friend-“ Your hands now cover your face “And then when I arrived here to cry in peace a couple walked in front of me being all cute and I crumbled.”

“It could have been us.”

“Umh?” You can finally gaze back into his eyes, liquid fury while looking down at you.

“Who is the guy you have a crush for? The loser-“

“It’s you. You are the loser.” Your brain still struggles to phantom what is happening. You were freezing cold a few minutes ago, you couldn’t feel the apex of your fingers, but now you don’t feel anything.

But something inside Sae’s mind clicked before yours, the umbrella waving left and right, the grip on it clearly loosened.

“You are an imbecile.” His words are sharp knives on your body, but you can’t grasp in pain because something is pressing on your lips.

Sae is kissing you, his cold hands gripping you by the collar of your dress to keep you close, raindrops fall down from his cheeks to yours, the umbrella is left abandoned in a bush, the wind tearing it apart.

“For how long?” He pulls you up from the bench, his right hand gripping yours while the left one is on your back.

“The exam fail.” You whisper almost in a trance “And you?”

“Let’s go home-“ He starts to run out from the park, calling for a cab to bring you both to, you suppose, your house. You notice him looking around, probably searching for a place to shield your bodies from the rain; not that you have much to protect anymore both wet from head to toe.

“It has been longer...Sae! That’s why you have always teased me.” You finally laugh shivers of cold and joy running down your back. “Sae!” You shout stopping in your tracks. Sae turns back but doesn’t have time to snap at you, this time it’s you kissing him. Your hands go to caress his cheeks, one hand sliding a bit back to scratch the back of his neck. You probably nailed the right point, because you hear him moan into your mouth. His hands slide lower caressing your waist to your hips, but never brave enough to go to your backside.

Or better, when you feel him sliding closer…

“Mister Itoshi, come in the car!” his driver came to pick you up, using the horn two times to announce his presence.

Sae looks at him, gnashing his teeth before looking back at you, his expression getting softer again. “Let’s go” he kisses you in between your eyebrows before pulling you towards his car.

“Okay, but you’ll have to tell me when you fell in love with me.” You feel the hold on your hands tightening, no need to look at his face to understand what’s going on in his head.

Maybe he’ll kiss you dumb to make you forget about that. Maybe he’ll be brave enough to propose showering together…your mind starts to daydream, maybe he won’t have the courage and you’ll have to take the reins, but one thing is sure.

You’ll both be happy.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #itoshi sae #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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fantastic-nonsense · 5 months

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I think people who genuinely wanted Percy to rebel against the gods and overthrow the system kind of...miss the whole point of the series

The question is not whether or not the gods deserve to rule; the books are kind of unambiguous that they don't! That the gods are generally undeserving of their children's loyalty is the one thing that Percy and Luke both agree on! But PJO is less about divine right to rule vs. ruling via consent of the governed and more about improving dysfunctional family systems. It's not about whether unfair rulers deserve to continue ruling; it's about forcing the gods to be better, fairer rulers and a better, fairer family given limited alternatives.

Because what are the alternatives, as presented to us within the scope of the original PJO series?

Option 1: allow Kronos to topple Olympus and take over. Clearly not a viable alternative for all of the reasons the books show us.

Option 2: the demigods overthrow the Olympians and rule the world themselves. Okay. How's that going to work out long-term, given demigods are mortal and cannot control or protect their parents' domains? Demigods will die out within a generation or two, so that's potentially a one-generation short-term solution, and then everyone's right back where they started. Except worse, because now the world has been out of divine balance for a century and the gods have a completely legitimate bone to pick with all demigods. Materially worse outcome.

Option 3: demigods ignore the gods and their will entirely. They integrate into the mortal world, refuse to participate in quests or talk to their parents, and pretend prophecies don't exist. Except that's clearly not a viable option, since we see that demigods usually can't safely exist in the mortal world without monsters coming after them, the gods are cruel enough to use blackmail and engage in hostage situations to get demigods to act as heroes, and prophecies have a way of coming true regardless of everyone's best attempts to circumvent them. Again: materially worse outcome.

And for Percy, for the demigods at Camp Half-Blood, for Luke and for everyone else who defected....for the most part, they don't actually have an inherent problem with the gods ruling them. They just want to be acknowledged, valued, and loved by their families, to be treated as more than a tool for their parents to wield whenever their services are needed. That was the core thesis of the demigod rebellion, which was wholly separate from Kronos' specific motivations for overthrowing the Olympians, and it's why Percy's asks at the end of TLO were what they were.

The point was always that had Percy grown up in a slightly more dysfunctional family environment...had he grown up with Frederick Chase's seemingly conditional love or May Castellan's madness instead of Sally Jackson's steady, quiet, unconditional love...he could have turned out like Luke. Like Ethan. Like the dozens of demigods who defected from camp to join Luke's cause. Percy could have turned out just as a bitter and angry and vengeful. Just as ready to tear down the system. Just as willing to betray and kill his own family for the sake of making a point.

But instead, Percy openly reprimands the gods for abandoning their families and using them as cannon fodder in their own petty disagreements. He forces them to acknowledge and claim their children. He demands that everyone who is part of the godly family be recognized and accepted, not just those related to the Twelve Olympians. He asks for those unjustly punished (like Calypso) to be set free and accepted back into the family. Because that's the point at the end of the day: not forcing bad rulers to step down, but changing an insanely dysfunctional family system that the gods and demigods are all members of into a better, safer, and more accepting environment for demigods to grow up and live in.

Overthrowing the gods wouldn't solve the problem at the heart of the series, which is the gods' shitty parenting and family management skills. It would only exacerbate the massive familial fault-lines that Kronos exploited and leave the demigods open to more godly manipulation. Which is why the series ends as it does, with Percy using his wish to tangibly improve the lives of his family instead of selfishly improving his own life (via accepting immortality/godhood) or overthrowing the gods. Because the conflict isn't about the gods as rulers. It's about the gods as parents.

PJO's core thesis is Percy, who grew up knowing unconditional familial love, looking at this whole world of children who didn't and saying "that's not fair. Gods should be better than this!" But instead of destroying them the way Luke wants to, instead of overthrowing them and putting himself on the throne, he instead challenges them to be better parents and family members. To be part of the solution instead of the problem. And Percy's demands don't solve everything, but they were necessary first steps! Without forcing the gods to acknowledge a bare minimum floor of inclusion, the cycle would simply begin all over again the next time a major conflict popped up.

So that's the problem Percy solves and how he successfully fulfills the prophecy: by believing that the gods had the capacity to change and forcing them to break the cycle of familial abandonment, he preserves Olympus and takes the first steps towards a new status quo, one that is objectively better for demigods than the one he grew up in. That's why he succeeds, and it's why Percy overthrowing the gods would have made for a much less satisfying ending than what actually happened.

#pjo #pjo meta #percy jackson #luke castellan #ethan nakamura #annabeth chase #long post #pjo tv #wow it's been awhile since I've written proper pjo meta lmfao

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astrabear · 2 years

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The tough thing about boundaries is that it’s not enough to state them, you have to enforce them.

I think some folks see “setting boundaries” as a kind of magic talisman to influence other people’s behavior. “I’ll tell you what I need or can’t accept, and you will act accordingly.” And sometimes that’s what happens, and that’s great! But if the other person disregards your stated boundaries, it doesn’t mean setting boundaries didn’t work.

Because boundaries aren’t about others’ behavior, they’re about your own. If the other person’s behavior doesn’t change, then yours has to. “Please don’t discuss [x topic] with me” is a request. “If you continue to talk about [x topic] then I will end this conversation/hang up/leave” is a boundary, which you must then enact. The point is less about stopping the other person (although that’s ideal) and more about protecting yourself. And you have to be committed to protecting yourself, because no one else will be.

You have to be so committed that you’re willing to tolerate other people being hurt or angry or uncomfortable. You have to accept that some relationships might change. You have to hold onto the idea that it’s all right for them to change, because the way they were before was hurting you, and you deserve to not be hurt. You gave them a choice: maintain a relationship or keep doing the thing that hurts you, and they chose to keep hurting you, so if the situation is now awkward or unpleasant that was because of their choice. Enforcing boundaries means deciding that if someone is going to feel bad here, it need not be always and only you.

There is no magic formula that will make other people treat you kindly and respectfully. But you can learn to treat yourself with kindness and respect. That’s what enforcing a boundary is.

#boundaries #assertiveness #the real self care was the friends we dropped along the way #life is too short to spend with people who make you feel bad #you won't find the people who respect your boundaries #until you stop wasting energy on the people who don't #you can survive people being mad at you #i promise

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cleolinda · 2 months

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I’ve read a few of the umpteen thousand upset comments about the paid Watcher service, and I’ve read comments angry about the upset comments. There’s one thing I want to point out, and it’s that this isn’t, or shouldn’t be, “You’re saying people don’t deserve to earn money for their work.”

The Watcher guys do deserve to earn money. I already give them money. I give them $5 a month on Patreon, not because I think they do or don’t give me $5 worth of media, but because I want to support them. I canceled Netflix for pissing me off with its price hike/ad tier, but I give Watcher Entertainment money.

They’re saying now that the Patreon will be solely about the podcasts, and they understand if people leave. I’m perfectly happy to switch the support I can afford to the streaming service. With the early adopter 30% discount, I’d actually save money. In fact, I tried to subscribe, but the site didn’t work.

Watcher wanting to profit from their shows isn’t the problem. It’s that they’re now discovering that their fanbase is young and broke in a terrible economy, judging by tens of thousands of comments on multiple platforms. I can throw them $5/month, so I do. But the Patreon only has (checks notes) 5874 paying followers, and there’s a reason for that. $60/year upfront would not be “accessible.” Patreon is literally patronage from the people who can afford it.

If the guys had said up front, “ONLY new shows and episodes will be exclusive to the service,” I think we’d be having a different conversation right now. But at first they did say, “We’re pulling all our content from YouTube,” to the point where Variety had to issue an update. Like, that’s in print and I’m pretty sure it was on video. Now they’ve backtracked to ONLY new etc.—but most people haven’t heard, and they feel crushed. And the trust is probably gone regardless.

So now four years of back catalogue will stay public. And now, you’re paying $6.99 a month for one episode, maybe two, of something a week, and now, not an exclusive back catalogue. I would pay for Watcher shows before I’d pay for anyone else, but I just don’t think the company is big enough yet for a SVOD at that price. They’re not Dropout size. They needed to build more programming and get a higher follower count first, or at the very least, charge less.

The international price/exchange rate situation is a nightmare and I don’t know what it is they’re not doing to make it… not… be like that.

I don’t know what they should have done instead of a full streaming service, but surely there were alternatives? I’ve seen comments from people suggesting they GET a Patreon. Lean on that more! Do the shows exclusive for a month and then let them roll onto YouTube! I don’t know! Anything but One More Fucking Streaming Service, which enraged me, and I was willing to move my support to it!

And I shouldn’t say this, but I will. In the “Goodbye YouTube” video the guys posted, they say that setting up the streaming service has allowed Steven to do a remake of Worth It where he and his cohosts travel the world and eat expensive food. This is the first new show they announce. Not “We have always been committed to diversity and we’re now able to bring on new creator(s) to expand our programming.” No, a redo of an old show that by definition has got to be expensive. Commenters are saying they can’t pay for the streaming service because they can’t make ends meet in this economy. The optics are terrible. I genuinely question what the thought process even was here.

I love the guys and I still watch their shows. I want to see Watcher succeed. I started watching Buzzfeed Unsolved in 2018 while recovering from surgery—as with a lot of people, their shows got me through a tough time. I’m as attached as anyone. If I can continue to afford monthly support—this is not a certainty—I’ll give it to them. I’m not a ~hater who doesn’t want Watcher to make money. But I am absolutely BAFFLED by every single decision here. I want them to figure out how to turn this around and go in a better direction, because right now, this ain’t it.

#long post #I hope nobody hates me for this but like #this is someone supporting you #this is the best I can do #and that should tell you something #watcher

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aemonds-sapphire · 2 years

Text

Take a Seat

Summary: You tell Aemond you can´t stand him. He invites you to take a seat.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Face riding. Oral sex. Aemond is a tease. Aemond's nose is amazing. Masturbation. Aemond’s POV.

Word count: 1.3k

“Aemond!”

Your screech reverberated through the walls of his bedchambers.

The young prince reckoned it wouldn’t take much longer before your angry voice was heard yet again.

“Aemond!”

There it was.

A wave of satisfaction rippled along his entire body as anticipation gradually built up.

“Where are my clothes?” you bellowed in frustration from inside the bathing room. “Your sister awaits me! I will be late.”

Truth be told, Aemond dreaded having to part ways with you this early in the morning. Selfishness might be an overstatement.

He preferred to see it as a need.

The need to have you around and all to himself.

To consume all of you.

So, he decided to hide your clothes and bath towel while you were readying yourself for another day at court.

Quite a dull a fair, in his opinion.

He could deliver so much more to you than a day of walking around behind his sister and tending to her needs.

What about his needs?

And yours?

His antics proved to be enough to kindle your anger and frustration, which would only work in his favour in the end.

The dragon always comes out victorious.

As soon as your burst into the room, dripping wet and ready to pounce him, Aemond felt a rush of blood flooding downwards in a subtle tingling sensation.

“What did you do with my clothes?” you growled, taking large steps in his direction. “I will be late!”

Aemond merely shrugged, grateful that his ever growing erection was neatly hidden away from you under the bed cover.

He watched in sheer delight as you grabbed a pillow and tossed it at him, which he promptly deflected with one hand, his reflexes sharp as ever.

“You are so… infuriating!” you sighed in exasperation.

A teasing smile curled his lips. Getting under your skin had become one of his favourite pastimes. It got you all riled up with this pent-up tension that he’d so gladly fuck out of you.

But then something else crossed his mind.

Oh… you were probably going to flip at this.

But he was feeling particularly daring and willing to push you a little more than usual.

“I’m feeling feverish,” he started. “There’s this pain….”

And just as he had predicted, the visible traces of anger on your face faded into a worried look.

You sat naked on the edge of the bed, placing the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Where does it hurt?”

Aemond lifted the bedsheets, revealing his hard cock to you. “Here.”

You immediately scowled at how shameless he was.

“I was seriously worried!”

And just as you stood up and were about to smack him, he took the opportunity to grab both your wrists and had your leg swing over his body with such refined skill you were left sitting on his bare torso at lightning speed.

You tried to jerk free from his grasp. “Aemond! I’m going to be late!”

He honestly couldn’t care less. Having you fully naked and on top of him only served to further ignite his desire for you.

“Your sister awaits me near the gates of King’s Landing,” you huffed in annoyance. “We are going for a walk today.”

“I’ll fly you there on Vhagar if I have to,” he said casually, rubbing both thumbs along your pulse points. “I am sure my sister can do without you for a while, my lady.”

Once again, you yanked both arms in an attempt to break free, but all in vain. He was far too strong, and he wasn’t willing to let go of you just yet.

“I cannot stand you!” you growled menacingly.

What a blatant lie.

All that forced outrage had his cock twitch in anticipation. How he adored fucking you into submission, peeling off all those layers that you so vehemently insisted on keeping on just to have him crawl for you.

You were aware of your hold on him. If you really wanted to, you’d be able to bend him to your will.

He’d do everything and anything for you.

“Say that again.”

Your eyes narrowed with renowned defiance. “I cannot stand you.”

“Then sit on my face.”

Your eyes then widened in surprise. “What?”

Aemond wanted to let go of his hold on you have his hands cup your breasts, but he decided against it. He wanted to make sure you were fully committed to him.

“Let me taste you,” he insisted, his cock throbbing lightly.

You faltered briefly as you clenched your thighs around him. “You’re so…”

“So what, my lady?”

Aemond then let go of you, knowing fully well he had you trapped.

“Infuriating.”

“I’ll take that as compliment,” he said and with one hand, he smacked your ass lightly, but you didn’t budge.

“I… I am going to be late…”

Aemond was a patient man, but his patience was wearing thin. “Then stop wasting time and ride my face.”

You hesitated at first, but caved in eventually. He slid his pillow to the side so that he could be the perfect seat for you. Carefully, you lifted yourself from him before finally settling directly above his face.

Aemond wouldn’t mind parting ways with life with the sight of your inviting pussy as his last memory.

What a glorious way to go.

He nearly letting out a groan and a sigh of relief rumbled across his chest the moment you were fully sitting on him.

Instinctively, he brought both hands to grip your thighs. The delicious moan that escaped your lips was incentive enough for him and without much effort he parted his lips and delved his tongue deep inside you.

Delicious.

“Oh…”

You were so fucking endearing. The fact that you were still surprised that he could deliver all that pleasure with just a few strokes of his skillful tongue did wonders to his ego.

Your folds encased the corners of his mouth, as if trying to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

And he had no intention of doing so.

Aemond was well aware of how to increase the pleasure he delivered to you.

He knew you would quiver from feeling his nose pressing into your swollen clit.

The moment he did so, his hands had to grip your thighs harder to keep you in place from all the shuddering.

An intense shiver ran down his spine as he was able to feel the pulse from your throbbing clit on his nose.

Truthfully, he simply could never get tired of how your body responded to him so eagerly.

His hips to shot up reflexively as his cock twitched from the need to be buried inside you.

“Aemond… not … not the—”

Your words faded and turned into a pleasurable moan as soon as his tongue went deeper, forcing his nose to press into you harder than before.

Aemond was still able to watch you gripping the headboard for support, before shutting his eyes as overwhelming bliss filled him. His cock throbbed with each heartbeart and the skin at the base pulling as he hardened even more.

He kept tongue-fucking you, drinking in your juices and your whimpers. Your wetness was now spreading across his chin, and he brought one of his hands to free his cock from the sheet on top, allowing it to spring free. The dire need to fuck you was ever growing.

But he had would have you reach your peak on his face rather than his around his cock.

The way his nose rubbed your clit caused your hips to buck and jerk from the stimulation, forcing his other hand to increase his grip even more on you to keep you in place as you were riding his face.

“Oh… oh… Aemond…”

You were done for.

And so was he.

He wrapped his fingers around his leaking and needy cock, yearning for nothing more than relief. It was becoming unbearable to feel your heartbeat invade his mind and travel down his body in rhythmic waves of pleasure.

A high-pitched moan fell from your lips. “Aemond… my prince… please…”

Aemond had no need of your words of approval or praise or bliss. He could feel your pleasure and that was all he needed.

Showing was far more saturated than telling.

The obscene slurping sounds coming from him were enough to have his hips jerk once again as he fucked his hand desperately.

He was too close.

Almost embarrassingly so.

He was aware that pumping his own cock drastically hindered his endurance. There was only so much he could withstand.

Soon enough, he felt your thighs begin to quiver erratically as he ran his tongue along the sensitive clit.

With a few more jerks from your hips, you were catapulted into your orgasm, shaking violently into his face while raking your fingers through his hair before gripping a few strands forcefully.

“Good… so good…” you cried out too lost in your own pleasure as a gush of your wetness flooded his tongue.

Not long after, he felt your legs begin spasm uncontrollably. And he didn’t just feel this because they were tightening around his head; he felt your every contraction and twitch as he brought his nose to tease your swollen bud, tongue still lodged between your soaked folds.

And that was precisely what pushed him over the edge.

The overwhelming pleasure took over him completely and Aemond reached the point of no return. Hot spurts of cum shot from his tip with each spasm of his own body; the muscles in his thighs and lower abdomen tightened along with his balls.

No words in High Valyrian or any other tongue could do justice to the intense pleasure that took over him.

A few strands of hot liquid ran down his fingers, but he paid no mind to the mess. His own heart pounded insanely loud inside his ears and he stopped breathing for a moment as a guttural growl ripped through his throat through gritted teeth.

You slid off to the side, allowing his deep groans to echo around the bedchamber.

Aemond’d endurance was something he took pride in, but a powerful release was still enough to have him panting and feeling lightheaded. Your juices were spread across his chin and lips and jaw and nose with a few drops running down his face.

“I still cannot stand you…” you struggled to say in between pants.

He licked the excess liquid from his lips, locking his eye with your hazy ones. “Are you challenging me to bring you to your peak once more?”

“I am already late,” you protested, struggling to slide out of bed and nearly tripping as your legs wobbled from having your strained leg muscles.

Aemond couldn’t help but to chuckle as you tried your best to keep your balance.

“I will carry you to Vhagar and fly you there,” he offered. “I doubt you’ll be able to walk regardless.”

It was in moments like these that Aemond was thankful to his fast reflexes as his hand prevented yet another pillow from reaching his face.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd smut

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byechristopher · 7 months

Text

LOOK AT YOU. [18+]

– Chris Sturniolo smut.

——————————————————————————————————

dom & playful!chris x f!reader.

Author's note: Nothing to say, enjoy. Don't copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: Praise & degradation kink. Semi-public sex. Smut smut smut, lots of smut, long story too. If you're a minor, keep scrolling, please. I don't know what else to say, bye.

The music is so loud, I can literally feel it in my veins, my body. I'm already on the fourth drink and all I can think of is him. Him. He said he'd come tonight, although I never know what to expect from him.

My friends keep talking to me but I'm far gone now – could it be the whiskey? Could it be the fact that Chris just entered the fucking bar and my breath is gone? Maybe. I swear, this guy will literally drive me crazy. He is the only one my eyes follow when he enters the bar, it's like no one else exists. No one other than us.

"Hey, baby." he says as soon as he is close enough for me to hear him, his fingers touch my waist. His teasing grin lights up the whole damn room and I feel like passing out.

"Shut up, Chris, don't call me baby." I groan and look around, sighing in relief when I see that all our friends are too tipsy to notice.

Me and Chris have been friends for as long as I can remember – well, "friends" is the only thing I can call that. We have been flirting since day one and have been hooking up ever since.

I am fucking obsessed with the guy, though. Who isn't, after all.

"I want you." he makes sure he is as close as he can get with everyone around, not that he cares anyway. His forehead is pressed against my temple and he is slightly moving with me to the beat of the song that's playing.

"Literally everyone is around, Christopher." I say his name, as if the smirk that crawls up his lips doesn't turn me on.

"Keep saying my full name and I'll take you right here, in front of everyone. I don't give a fuck, you know it." his lips touch my ear and his breath tickles my skin in the best way possible. The craziest thing is that I know he could do that – he wouldn't give a shit and I wouldn't say a damn thing.

"Plus, you know I only came here because of you, don't you?" he keeps his lips close to my ear.

I knew it. Which is why I wore his favourite dress tonight. His favourite red lipstick that he loves taking off of me with ways only he can. He was at another club but I texted him as soon as we went out – and he came, indeed.

"You might need to prove that to me." I can't keep back my smile (or smirk, at that point), his eyes stare into mine.

I expect him to say something playful in return but he glares at me instead. It's not an angry glare, it's an I'll-fuck-the-shit-out-of-you glare. I can't hep but widen my eyes a little bit because he grabs my wrist and in less than a minute, we're out of there – we're in the bathroom instead.

"Chris, what the fuck.." I yell behind him but I can feel the desire build up in my stomach, my chest, everywhere.

He doesn't say anything but I know that little smile of his – he knows what he's doing. Damn well. He opens one of the bathroom doors and shoves us both inside. We're both smiling like crazy but I wait for him to make the first move.

He is in the mood to torture me once again, it seems, because he doesn't immediately kiss me. He slowly presses his forehead against mine and his curls are somewhat in the way. However, I can still stare into his hungry eyes. We can still hear the muffled music from inside, it is very loud after all – perfect. We won't need to be quiet. Not that he would let me anyway.

His fingers grip my hips and bring me closer to him, I can feel the bulge in his pants and I can feel my breath getting heavier. He notices, because his smirk is more evident this time.

"Can you feel it? Feel me?" he whispers, loud enough for me to hear him. I can feel goosebumps rising.

"Chris.. I can't wait any longer." my lips touch his without kissing him. Just enough to make him drool for me as much as I do for him.

"Baby.. I want your lips on me. Get on your knees." he bites down on his bottom lip – he places a kiss on my lips before he gives me a knowing smile.

He doesn't need to tell me twice because I'm already pushing his pants down, just enough to take his cock out for me to see. Only me. In just a second, my lips are already around him and I can see him throwing his head back, although he returns to his previous position, just to be able to look at me. I felt hungry, I wanted to devour him.

"Fucking hell.. you look perfect.. like that, just like that." his jaw is firm and his fingers find their way in my hair, grabbing a fistful of it and guiding my head so that I can take him deeper into my mouth.

"Do you like that, hm? How hard you made me? How I'm already really fucking close?" he moans and starts thrusting his hips, I am gagging and my eyes tear up, but I don't mind. Hell, I love it. He lets out a chuckle between moans as he holds my head in place with both hands and starts fucking my mouth, harder than ever.

"Look at you.." he pulls his cock out and rubs it against my cheek, smearing my own saliva all over my face, "..such a little slut for my cock. Wanna taste me again, hmm?"

"Please.." I whisper, "please, I need to taste you.. I need you to fuck me.." that must've triggered him, because I see those beautiful eyes turning dark again and I can't fucking breathe.

His fingers are now wrapped around my neck, and before I even realise what's going on, he spits on his own cock and shoves it back into my mouth. I hold onto his thighs and suck on him hungrily – I can feel tears running down my cheeks and I'm pretty sure mascara is decorating my skin.

His moans are uncontrollable now and I can see him smiling at my mess, "pretty girl.. you look so beautiful, fuck!" he thrusts into my mouth one last time before he pulls out completely.

I am about to complain when he mentions for me to get up, he pushes up the hem of my dress and pulls my panties down, grabbing one of my legs and putting it over his shoulder, as he gets down on his knees this time. My private parts are on full display and I'm desperately trying not to pass out right then and there.

The sight is beautiful – his eyes are glistening, filled with lust, maybe a bit of alcohol, his hair is a little messed up, my thigh is resting on his shoulder, his long fingers are wrapped around it. He turns his head to the side and places a soft kiss on the inside of my thigh, biting my skin playfully right after.

"Fuck.. you're literally perfect. I couldn't stop thinking about the last time I tasted you on my tongue.. I want you." he groans and without wasting any time, he spreads my pussy open and shoves his tongue inside of me.

My head falls back and I moan loudly, my leg trembling on his shoulder – he rubs my clit with his warm tongue before taking it into his mouth to suck on it. His hand travels up my body and with quick movements, he grabs my dress and pulls it down, just enough for my breasts to break free. As soon as he does that, he shoves his tongue inside of me once again. I scream.

"Don't you dare cum. I'm not fucking done with you." he growls. He carefully sets my foot down and quickly gets up, spitting on his dick before grabbing my leg again to lift it up, keeping it to his side. With his free hand, he guides the tip of his cock to my clit and after rubbing it a few times (which made me want to cry), he finally pushes himself inside of me.

"Chris!" I squeeze my eyes shut and tug on his hair – he winces but keeps a smile on his face, as he comes closer to take a nipple into his mouth, "Yes, yes, yes!" I cry out.

"You feel so good, baby.. only I can fuck you like this. Isn't this right, baby?" he moans in my ear and I lose it. I grab both of his shoulders and I jump on him, wrapping both of my legs around his waist, with him still buried deep inside of me.

"Only you.. I only want you to fuck me. To see me like this.." I whisper and I start to move my hips back and forth.

"Fuuuuck.. shit, like this.." his fingers dig into my skin – his hand is gripping my breast, squeezing it roughly, while the other hand is intertwined with mine, pressed against the wall next to my head, "..I'm fucking close.. I wanna cum inside of you." he moans and presses his forehead against mine.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes! Inside of me.. please, cum.." I moan and I want to cry at the same time because the pleasure is too much, and I'm so close too.

With that, he loses it, and so do I. We both finish at the same time and I can feel both of our bodies trembling against one another.

"You're beautiful.. fuck." he whispers as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, "I don't wanna pull out." he chuckles, he's tired though.

I chuckle too, "take me home?" I whisper.

He pauses, "is that literal, or.." he narrows his eyes and I laugh, hitting his chest, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Let me take you home, yes. And then take you on the couch, too."

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