#I seem to have had a lot to say about this one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paperbodiesamongthestars · 2 days ago

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How can you say that you love someone you can't tell is dying?

I am having feelings about that episode, so please enjoy 3k words of fic about it. I told myself yesterday I wasn't going to write anything about it because I didn't think I had much to say, and then this hit me like a truck at like midnight. Exceptional timing, brain, no notes.

Title is from You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift. (The other line I considered was "I know my pain is such an imposition," for obvious reasons, but I made a different call. Hopefully this one is pointed enough. 😂)

Tommy thinks about reaching out. Tommy thinks about reaching out a lot, but he doesn’t do it. The footage from the cameras in the tunnel plays on a loop in his mind, but Evan had been red-eyed but composed by the time he and Athena came out of there, and the last thing Tommy was going to do was blurt it out in front of everyone. That he’d seen something no one else had. That he knew, and the knowledge was lodged in his chest like a knife.

Evan kept it together that night, but Tommy can’t imagine that persisted for long. He was subdued at the funeral—and Tommy was focused on doing his own part as respectfully as possible—but there were times when Evan had seemed…lost. Unmoored somehow. It was understandable given where they were, but it had made Tommy wonder, a little bit, who Evan was leaning on to get through this. He had banished the thought as soon as it had surfaced. The 118 was Evan’s family; of course they were seeing what was going on with him, probably more clearly than Tommy could. No doubt they had it under control. They would never let Evan suffer through a loss like this alone.

So Tommy doesn’t call after the funeral.

He doesn’t call, and he doesn’t call, and he doesn’t call, and he falls asleep almost every night to a vivid memory of the way Evan’s legs had just given out under him. He doesn’t call and the impulse to hold Evan—just briefly, just because he couldn’t then—is almost overwhelming. But that’s not what they are anymore. He’s not sure if they're anything, honestly, and he’s not going to ask. Evan has more important things to worry about right now, and Tommy’s not going to barge in demanding anything at all.

And then a building goes down, of course with half the 118 inside, and Tommy’s still on ground ops until Melton forgives him. Evan and Ravi are finally pulled out—dusty and scraped up, but whole—and Tommy sees them making their slow way toward the 118 engine and Gerrard.

Evan brightens a little and waves when he looks up and sees Tommy, and Tommy really hopes he’s got a handle on his expression, because Evan looks awful. His smile is brittle and the hollowness in his eyes is concerning. Tommy almost looks around for the rest of the 118 because what the fuck are they thinking? They wouldn’t let Evan walk around like this, looking like an open wound. Right? They would do something about it.

For the first time, Tommy considers the possibility that he’s made a few too many assumptions about what the 118 would and wouldn’t do.

He jogs over to where Evan and Ravi have stopped. Ravi is chatting with a firefighter from the 133, but Evan is just…standing. His eyes are blank and unfocused, and Tommy is starting to get a little pissed at all the people who are supposed to have Evan’s back because what are they doing?

“Hey,” he says quietly, but Evan startles anyway.

“Oh! Uh, hey Tommy.” He dredges up a smile that goes nowhere near his eyes. “Ground ops, huh?”

“Yeah, Melton’s still pissed, so…”

Evan frowns. “I’m so—Tommy I’m so sorry.”

Tommy frowns back at him. “For what?”

“I shouldn’t have asked…I didn’t think,” Evan says, his shoulders slumping, and Tommy doesn’t like that reaction at all.

“Sure you did. You thought ‘The team is in trouble; I wonder if Tommy can help,’ and the answer was yes.”

Evan gives him a wan smile. “But you love flying.”

“I do,” Tommy says slowly, “and I’ll be doing it again in no time. It’s really not a big deal.” He catches Evan’s eye and says firmly, “Hey, I’m a grown-up. I have a mortgage and everything—I can absolutely deal with the consequences of my own actions.”

Evan stares for a second and then starts blinking faster. His hand starts to come up, like he’s going to wipe his eyes, but stops halfway. He looks around at the clusters of firefighters around them.

“I have to—” he says, and gestures vaguely in a direction, and then he’s gone. Tommy frowns after him, wondering where exactly he went wrong.

He thinks maybe he should call this time.

He doesn’t get the chance.

The day after the building collapse, Tommy drives home from his 48—which was a bitch and a half, and not just because a building came down—and finds a very familiar jeep parked in his driveway. He stares at it for a while, failing to make sense of its presence, and then realizes he’s been sitting there for too long. He gets out of his truck and lets himself into his house. He can hear water running in the kitchen, and the house smells like red sauce, similar to the one his mom used to simmer on the stove on Sunday afternoons. It smells like home, and he buries that thought as soon as it surfaces.

Tommy drifts into the kitchen, uncertain what he’ll find there. Evan has his back to the door, rinsing a cutting board in the sink. He looks over his shoulder as Tommy comes in.

“One sec,” he says, and Tommy nods. He takes the time to go set his bag down in his bedroom, kicking off his shoes and changing into sweatpants. When he makes it back to the kitchen, the board is in the drying rack and Evan is standing at the kitchen island, staring down at his hands on the countertop.

“Hi,” Tommy says as he comes back in. He skirts carefully around Evan to grab a beer from the fridge and opens it, and then he goes back to the other side of the island. Whatever Evan is doing here, Tommy has no desire to spook him. His kitchen is Evan’s kitchen. Hell, if he’s being really honest with himself, his everything is Evan’s everything, to a probably concerning degree.

Whatever. Not the point right now.

“Hey,” Evan says, and takes a swig from the bottle of water in front of him. “Your spare key is still in the same spot.”

“Sure is,” Tommy agrees. There’s a brief silence. “What are you making?” Tommy asks.

“Meat sauce,” Evan says. “I was going to make fresh pasta, but I wasn’t sure when you’d be home and I didn’t know if I’d have time.”

Tommy nods. “It smells great,” he says.

Evan glances at him, and then away. “Sorry for invading your kitchen,” he says, but it sounds likes something he thinks he should say rather than something he really means. Tommy can work with that.

“Don’t be,” Tommy says. “You’re always welcome here.” His tone is warm and probably too fond, but there’s not much he can do about it. He’s just really happy Evan is in his kitchen, looking tentative, but maybe a little less hollow than he looked yesterday.

Evan looks up at that, faint surprise and…something else flitting over his face before he smiles. “Yeah?” he asks, like that’s a real question.

“Of course,” Tommy says, and he’s probably giving himself all the way away, but he’s finding it hard to care. He’s tired. Tired of pretending he didn’t see what he saw, tired of pretending he doesn’t desperately want to hug Evan, just to do it. Because he couldn’t then, but maybe he can now.

As soon as he has the thought, the words come out without him ever deciding to say them. “Could I—do you mind if I hug you?”

Evan glances over his shoulder at the sauce, and then the kitchen timer. There’s a lot of time left on it, and Tommy briefly wonders what it means that Evan came over and let himself into his house to make a dish that has to simmer for hours.

Evan turns back to Tommy, his expression a little rueful. He’s twisting his hands together in front of him. “I think, uh. There—there’s a solid chance I’m going to cry all over you if that happens,” he says, eyes downcast.

“I can live with that,” Tommy says immediately.

Evan’s head comes up, eyes huge in his face, and he drinks in Tommy’s expression. Tommy doesn’t know what he’s looking for, but he seems to find it. He moves, and then Tommy moves, and they crash into each other halfway around the island. Tommy clings because Jesus Christ, he’s been desperate to ever since he watched Evan sink to the ground, face twisted in anguish. He’s so focused on Evan, solid and real in his arms, that it takes a second for him to realize that Evan is clinging just as tightly, his face buried in Tommy’s shoulder. And—yep, there are the tears.

Tommy feels himself tearing up too, for Bobby, for Evan, for Athena--for all of them. For this awful, overwhelming loss, and the horror of how it happened.

Evan’s breaths start to hitch, and he slumps further into Tommy’s hold. Suddenly he’s choking out deep, gasping sobs, sorrow pulled up from so deep it sound like it it’s physically painful. Tommy just tightens his grip, trying to ignore the part of his brain that is loudly demanding to know why, exactly, Evan seems to need this so badly. He can pull on that thread later. For now, he can do this. He can stand here and be as solid as possible so Evan has something to hang onto while he falls apart.

Later, they end up on the couch. They each have a glass of that stupid passion-orange-guava juice Tommy just keeps adding to his cart at the grocery store, even though Evan hasn’t been around to drink it for a while now. Tommy keeps nudging the plate of cookies toward Evan.

“Eddie’s crashing at my—at his—on the couch at the house,” Evan says, and his tone is all wrong. It’s stilted and a little wobbly, and Evan’s eyes stay fixed on his hands. He sighs. “He’s probably wondering where I am.”

Tommy tries to keep the surprise off his face, but something must get through.

Evan grimaces. “We had a disagreement the other night. I know he’s trying to make up for it, in his own way, but…I. I just wanted to be somewhere else for a while.”

Tommy’s not sure what to say to that. “Well,” he finally gets out, “like I said, you’re always welcome here.”

Evan nods a little, but it’s clear his mind is elsewhere. “Do you—” he starts, and then stops. Tommy cocks an encouraging eyebrow. “Do you think…that is…”

Tommy waits. Evan will decide how he wants to say whatever it is—or decide not to—in his own time.

Evan looks back down at his hands. “We did everything we could to save Bobby,” he says. It’s a statement, kind of. He looks up at Tommy. “Right?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed, and his expression is full of such naked vulnerability that Tommy is tempted to look away. He doesn’t, because Evan Buckley deserves all the courage Tommy can muster, even if he’s never had quite enough.

Tommy takes a slow breath in, and lets it out, and reminds himself that giving in to the rage igniting in his chest would be neither helpful nor productive. But what the fuck, Eddie?

“Evan,” he says firmly, “of course you did. You all did.”

Evan looks up at that. “We did,”he corrects, and shoots Tommy a tentative little smile.

“Of course we did,” Tommy agrees, unwilling to quibble about his own minor role when there are much more important things he needs to say. “It was an impossible situation, and everyone did their absolute best.” He starts to reach out for Evan’s hand, and then stops himself, and then Evan reaches out and takes his hand anyway. “Unless there was a secret second vial we didn’t account for—which there wasn’t—there was nothing more anyone could have done.” He pauses and thinks about how he wants to say this. “It was horrible, and tragic, and I know that every single person there would have done absolutely anything to prevent it. Which is how I know no one could have.” He smiles, but it’s small and sad. “If the folks who were there that day couldn’t find a way, then there just wasn’t a way to find,” he finishes.

Evan slumps a little in his seat. “Yeah, that’s—” he stops and swallows. “That’s what I thought too, but then Eddie said—” He cuts himself off and shakes his head. His shoulders are curled in, making him look small. Tommy hates it.

“Hey,” Tommy says, squeezing Evan’s hand, and Evan looks up at him. “I know everyone is hurting”—he was going to be diplomatic about this if it killed him—“but that is some Grade A bullshit.” Evan blinks at him. “That’s a fucked up thing to say, sweetheart, and I’m so sorry someone said it to you.” The endearment just slips out, and he doesn’t overthink it. He kept himself from saying What the fuck is wrong with your best friend? and I don’t think grief is a good enough explanation for that level of cruelty, so he gives himself a little mental high-five for his restraint.

Evan blinks a little faster and lets go of Tommy’s hand to wipe at his eyes. He laughs a little. “God, I don’t know why I can’t stop crying.”

Tommy’s got a few hunches, but he doesn’t voice any of them. He shrugs. “Grief is a bitch like that.” He smiles at Evan and gestures at the box of Kleenex on the end table. “I buy tissues at Costco, so, you know—cry as much as you need to.”

Evan laughs again, and relaxes back into the couch. Tears continue to slip down his face, and he periodically wipes them away. They sit there for a while, and the silence is comfortable. Tommy doesn’t take his hand back, and Evan makes no move to let it go.

After a while, Tommy gets up to take a real shower, and Evan gets up to stir the sauce. He’s asleep on the couch when Tommy comes back, and Tommy pulls the afghan down from the back of the couch and carefully pulls it over him. He checks on the sauce and then settles into the armchair with his book. The house is quiet, and it smells amazing, and something in Tommy’s chest is settled for the first time in weeks.

Evan wakes up when the kitchen timer goes off. He blinks a few times, and smiles a little when he sees Tommy in the armchair. Tommy smiles back.

They eat pasta—the meat sauce is fantastic—and then Tommy serves them bowls of ice cream drizzled with caramel sauce. They eat it on the couch while while they watch some nature documentary, and Tommy follows almost none of it because he keeps glancing over at Evan’s profile. He looks soft and relaxed, and that terrible brittleness seems to be gone. He’s still marked by sorrow—he always will be, to some extent—but he doesn’t look empty anymore.

Eventually the ice cream is gone, and the documentary is over. Evan shifts on the couch and glances at the clock in the kitchen.

“I should get back,” he says, with visible reluctance, and Tommy doesn’t hesitate.

“You could stay,” he says.

“You mean for the night?” Evan asks, tentative again the way he was when Tommy first walked in to find him in his kitchen.

“Sure,” Tommy says, “that.” He does not sell it, at all, and a slow smile starts to spread on Evan’s face.

“Yeah?” he asks, and they both know what he’s asking.

“Of course,” Tommy says, soft and sincere. He straightens a little. “I have a guest room,” he says, and Evan’s smile dims. “Not like that,” he says quickly. “Just—you’ve been through a lot, and if you just need a safe place to be for a while…”

Evan’s nodding as he talks, and he shifts closer to Tommy on the couch, meeting Tommy’s eyes. “I do need that,” he says. “I do need a safe place to be right now. And that’s you, Tommy.”

It sits there for a second because Tommy doesn’t know what to say, and Evan’s smile falters. Tommy reaches out for his hand.

“Oh,” he says, and it’s soft and a little awed. “I didn’t”—he clears his throat—“I didn’t know that.”

Evan nods gravely. “I’ll do better this time. At making sure you know.”

Tommy grips his hand tighter. “I—me too. I’ll do better.”

Evan smiles at him, sweet and pleased. “We both will. We’ll do it right this time.”

Tommy can’t argue with that. God knows they have a laundry list of stuff to talk about, to figure out, but…

“We will,” he agrees, and for the first time, he lets himself truly believe it.

#bucktommy #Evan Buckley drives a jeep fight me about it #8x18 spec #is it tho??#tragically this will not be happening in that episode #but we carry on regardless #paper writes #bucktommy fic #fix-it of sorts

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thewritingfairy · 15 hours ago

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↪ 13. Damian attempts self-reflection

PREV PART trigger warning: medical + physical + emotional neglect, name is officialy fucking done and they'll make it known, Name is no longer hiding that they want to leave, Damian centric chapter, short filler main m.list series m.list

You are about to kill a motherfucker, and that motherfuckers name is Damian. Not only is he following you, he continuously attempts to place trackers and to get your medication to give to Bruce. And after your latest shift, you were done. Robin was now spying on you while you were working, and you are absolutely fucking done.

So when you see him at the dining table you couldn’t contain your anger. “You and I are going to have a talk, privately,” you hiss at him, smacking a bag of broken trackers on the table. “or so help me, and I actually get a fucking restraining order against you.”

This sure as hell got his attention, and he nods and follows you to the kitchen. You need a room that can be trashed, and in the kitchen you have more shit to throw. “You are out of line,” you say, looking at him with a stare that one could describe as threatening, enraged and calculating. “if you do this again I’ll be sure to fuck Robin up the next time he comes to visit me at work.”

You didn’t want to play your cards out, they have no need to know that you know. Of course Duke knows, but he’ll always be the exception.

Damian laughs, he can’t help it. You think you can fuck up Robin? Please, he didn’t know you had a sense of humour. What a delightful surprise.

At least he has enough sense to stop laughing when he felt your stern gaze become a glare. Truly, you aren’t like Bruce a lot, but your stare… your stare is purely Bruce. “Why do you think you being followed by Robin has anything to do with me?” he asks, genuinely curious. He just hopes you won’t put all the clues together, he’s quite relieved with the fact that your pain keeps you oblivious. Unable to use all of your intelligence.

“Nightwing and then Robin, it’s obvious they are in Bruce in pockets,” you say trying to make it seem like you weren’t omitting something. But Damian did notice a slight change in your body language, but he’ll dismiss it for now. “get him to back off, or I will file a formal complaint of stalking against him. Wouldn’t be so good for his already shitty reputation, right?”

Seems like you hit a nerve, Damian looks away ashamed, regretful and at the same time grateful. Good, let him think you’re oblivious, the more he underestimates you the safer you will be. A boy like Damian is even more dangerous than a man like Jason, Damian was raised to kill, but Jason just copied the aggression he learned. And when he lost his joyful nature, he became the monster he is today. You take Damian’s silence as compliance. “Do me a favour and tell Brucie that I will be at Maria’s for the rest of the week,” you say as you turn around, ignoring how he takes a sharp breath. “I don’t want to see your face until I return.”

Damian knows your hyper independent nature is due to their actions, due to what they’ve done to you. But he can’t help but feel bitter, he didn’t know better. He didn’t understand your side, and he wants to be your brother. He always wanted to be your brother.

From the moment you defended Tim he knew that he wanted you to defend him like that, that he wanted you to love him like that. But after Jason’s attack he learned how your family treated you, and he wanted nothing to do with you. Fearful of losing his father’s approval, and you don’t know about their life. Involving you would lead to you being kidnapped and at worst killed.

He knows he could have had a civilian relationship, but after he chastised you for your anger towards Jason he knew he no longer had a chance. He knew, so he didn’t try.

He didn’t try because he didn’t understand.

So now, as you pull away from them instead of them pulling away from you Damian doesn’t know what to do. He wants to be your sibling, he wants the bond you seemed to have with Tim (a bond he now knows doesn’t exist), he wants to be loved by you. And he wants to protect you.

Can’t you let your brother protect you?

You’re the older sibling, shouldn’t you do anything to make your younger siblings happier?

NEXT PART guys, I know this is short, but listen, I wanted this out because I keep having Damian being a gremlin brother thoughts and not in a good way. also I keep seeing one specific username that is such a typical name where I am from that I'm like; shit do I know this person?

taglist CLOSED!: @prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue, @bunniotomia, @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @princessbonnie-bell, @seemee3, @pix-stuff, @venomsvl, @amber-content, @stove-top96, @frank-vanderboom, @leeiasure, @1abi, @shadowytravelerlover, @chericia, @lithiumval, @lingxio, @cssammyyarts, @marsmabe, @foolishseven, @kore-of-the-underworld, @bunbunboysworld, @homeless-clown, @miashico, @alwaysholymilkshake, @1cxndy, @kittzu, @rtyuy1346, @exactlynumberonekryptonite, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @artistwithcreativeburnout, @alishii, @vanessa-boo, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @91-kya, @ryuushou, @jjsmeowthie, @justthere1956, @depressed--therapist, @xzmickeyzx, @cheappremingerfromdelululand, @plsfckmedxddy, @itsberrydreemurstuff, @trashlaternfish360, @leogf, @dirtydiavolo, @lilyalone, @welpthisisboring, @kenman00001, @nxdxsworld, @icefox8155, @ironsaladwitch, @holderoflostmemories, @asillysimp, @wisefuncherryblossom, @eyeless-kun, @marina27826, @muggleloveralways, @ironsaladwitch, @shyenemyperson, @iamaunknownsecret

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shiorimakibawrites · 2 days ago

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So...I Guess We're Sharing (Daredevil)

Word Count: ~3400 Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem! Reader Summary: Due to a mishap, you end up sharing a room with your ex Matt Murdock. And so much more... Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dirty thoughts, dirty talk, making out, non-detailed sexual fantasy (p in v sex, male receiving oral sex), oral sex (female receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, coming untouched Matt Murdock / Daredevil Masterlist My Masterlist A03 link

Written for Bella's 4k Follower Celebration Writing Challenge with the prompt "So...I guess we're sharing."

So...I Guess We're Sharing

When your friend Ellie announced that she was marrying Theo Nelson in upstate New York, you had been hoping to run into Matt Murdock at the wedding. It wasn't an unreasonable expectation. Theo was the young brother of Foggy Nelson, Matt's best friend. It was only logical that Foggy'd be invited. And generally where you invited Foggy, Matt followed.

Now your plans for this possible reunion with your old flame had been talking, sharing a dance during the reception, flirting a little if you still found each other attractive, maybe a kiss…

Having you both booked for the same room due some kind of computer hiccup wasn't in those plans. Especially when there were no other rooms at this or the other hotels nearby. Mostly because both Ellie and Theo had very large families and lots of friends…

This left you with the choice to (A) share the room with Matt, (B) bunk with one of your friends, or (C) sleep in your car.

Option C was out of the question. For reasons that only made sense to them, Theo and Ellie decided the best time of the year to get married was January. Which meant it was far too cold to be sleeping in the car. Especially when more snow was predicted, bringing the risk of not waking up often enough to keep the tailpipe clear. Even if you didn't die, that didn't sound restful. And you were a massive bitch when you were overtired.

Option B was safer but has its own problems. You couldn't bunk with Ellie. It was less of a problem tonight but tomorrow it will be. Your bestie deserved to spend her wedding night having her mind blown by her new husband, not restricted to cuddling because her friend was third-wheeling. The rooms of your other friends in the party were less than appealing. You loved their kids but said kids had spent all day either flying or at the airport so right now they were a combination of pent-up energy and cranky. Except for the two babies who had bypassed cranky hours ago and were obviously 110% done with everything. And not afraid to say so, at the top of their little lungs.

Which wasn't their fault. You found flying stressful and you knew what was going on. But all the sympathy in the world didn't make their crying less capable of giving you a migraine.

Matt didn't have a car to sleep in, for obvious reasons. And him bunking with Marci and Foggy sounded nearly as awkward as you staying with Ellie and Theo. Apparently the pair had been looking forward to this trip as a mini-honeymoon. Mama and Papa Nelson's room already had extra people in it…

Which left Option A as the best choice for both of you.

"So…I guess we're sharing."

"I guess we are," you agreed, trying to hide your nerves.

You reminded yourself that while Matt was your ex, the relationship had ended amiably enough. It had hurt but there had been no name calling or a massive fight, public fight in the quad. Just two people agreeing that their lives were moving apart and maybe it was better to end things while you still liked each other.

Apparently all these years apart had not dulled Matt's perception of your moods. "We don't have to. I'll be fine with Foggy and Marci—"

"No, no, it's fine," you said, waving off the offer. "I said I was fine with sharing."

Matt's head tilted to one side. A shiver ran down your spine. You had forgotten how it felt to be the focus of Matt's attention. Even before you learned about his senses, it had seemed to you that being blind never stopped Matt from seeing you in ways that no one else ever had. After a moment, he nodded slowly. "If you're sure…"

"I am." You said, firmly. You could do this. It was fine. It would be fine.

The confidence momentarily wavered when you arrived at the room and discovered that there was only one bed. Matt, ever the gentlemen, immediately offered to sleep on the floor.

"No, no," you said, shaking your head. "Your back would never forgive you. It's a big bed. We can share, no problem."

This statement earned you another intense study from Matt. "Are you sure?"

"Positive." You felt your cheeks warm. "It's not like we've never slept in the same bed."

"True," Matt said, a little smile appearing on his lips. "It will be like old times."

"Just like old times," you repeated.

Except with more clothes, the horny part of your mind reminded you with a pout. Which was, if you were being perfectly honest, was more than a little disappointing. Nearly twenty years had transformed Matt from a very pretty boy to a devastatingly handsome man. The Matt you had known had been coltishall awkward, still not quite grown into his shoulders, with soft, round cheeks. The kind of person you imagined telling your father 'Yes, sir, I'll have her home by nine.'

Now? Now Matt looked like the kind person you could picture saying 'Your daughter also calls me daddy.'

The awkwardness had been replaced with cat-like grace and confidence. That cream cable-knit sweater of his could not hide that Matt had been hitting the gym anymore than those criminally well-fitting jeans could disguise that he still had the best ass you had ever laid eyes on. But far more potent was his face. Those round cheeks had been replaced with sharp cheekbones and a chiseled jaw, both adorned with the beginnings of a beard. A beard that was lightly peppered with gray that matched the touch of the same at his temples.

You couldn't explain why that little detail was getting you all hot and bothered. You just knew that it was making your cunt sit up and beg.

Further increasing your difficulties in keeping your mind out of the gutter was that his mouth still looked the same. It made you wonder if those petal pink lips would still be just as soft when he kissed you…and if he still loved eating pussy. Even dulled by time, the memory of the time he had spent hours with his face buried between your thighs, had your cunt clenching desperately around the empty air.

"Are you doing that on purpose?"

You jumped. When had he moved? He had been by the dresser, searching for something in his bag. Now he was right in front of you, one hand on the wall by your shoulder, the other closer to your hip. Almost but not quite pinning you to the wall. None of him was actually touching you but you could feel his warmth. You had forgotten how much of a living furnace Matt was.

"Doing what?" You asked, sounding more breathless than you expected. But how could you be anything else with him so close, those beautiful hazel eyes displaying the first signs of heat.

Matt arched an eyebrow. "Have you forgotten about my senses, sweetheart?"

"What do your senses have —-" You started before you cut yourself off. His senses… Matt would have heard your heartbeat increase at the sight of him. Would have heard your breath hitch when you realized how close he was, how you couldn't stop yourself from inhaling, wanting more of his good man smell…

And speaking of smell….

"You can smell…." You stopped, feeling your cheeks flush again. You couldn't say it.

Matt had no such qualms. "Your pheromones? How much you are soaking those panties? Yes, sweetheart, I can smell that."

Blood flooded your face. But also moved south as certain parts of your anatomy responded to the knowledge that he had noticed it. A reaction that only increased when you noticed the tenting in his jeans. A growl-like rumble erupted from his chest in response, hands twitching toward you before stopping. He closed his eyes, looking almost pained. "Sorry…I had forgotten how good you smell. It's making it difficult to control myself."

"Then don't."

"What?" His eyes snapped back open.

"Then don't," you repeated. The answer had been impulse but you stood by it. You didn't want to spend this entire weekend pretending that you didn't want him to fuck your brains out.

This time his hand couldn't stop itself from grabbing your hip. Or his body from moving closer, one thick thigh lodging itself between your legs. Your own hands hadn't remained idle, flying up to lay flat against his chest. But not to push him away. You just had to touch him.

You bite your bottom lip. He was even more solid under your hands than he looked. Solid enough to give horny brain thoughts. Thoughts of him pounding you against this wall, your legs wrapped around his waist while his hands gripped your thighs…

His hand on your hip tightened to near bruising. "Sweetheart…"

"Don't want you to control yourself," you panted out. "Want you to fuck me."

His hips involuntarily jerked, his thigh forcing your legs further apart. But what really had your cunt clenching desperately was feeling his growing erection pressed against you. There were too many clothes in the way and the angle wasn't right to do anything about but tease you….but you moaned.

That moan must have been the straw that broke the camel's back because Matt was kissing you. This was not the soft kiss you had imagined days ago, no gentle exploration of your mouths. This kiss was all passion. A fiery battle of lips, teeth, and tongues where neither of you could keep your hands still. Chest, shoulders, back until finally you reached his ass. It was just as good as you remembered, ample handfuls that you could not resist kneading like it was dough.

His hands tried to be just as thorough in their exploration but were stymied by the wall and how tightly his own body was pressed against yours. The frustrated whine was your only warning before you were lifted off the floor. Startled, you yelped and had to abandon his ass in favor of holding onto his shoulders.

Your assessment of how muscle was hiding under that sweater jumped another notch by how easily he carried you from the wall over to the bed. The only hint of strain came after that journey as his hands couldn't seem to decide what they wanted to touch most.

It felt good but you wanted more. Or rather you needed less, less of these clothes in the way of his hands and your hands. With this goal in mind, you started pulling your shirt off. Matt made a soft discontented noise when this impeded his exploration, until he realized what you were doing. Then his hands were eagerly assisting you. The moan Matt let out when his hands touched your bare skin went straight to your cunt.

Matt wasted no time in exploring every exposed inch of torso with his hands, followed closely by his mouth, rediscovering the spots that made you moan and squirm underneath him. It also made your hands even more eager for his bare skin. You pulled on his sweater, demanding, "Off, off, Matt, please…"

He whined against your cleavage but obeyed, leaning back to strip off that sweater. You felt your mouth go dry. You had been expecting muscles but the sight still took your breath away. And as beautiful as they looked, they felt even better under your hands. His torso was like satin…warm satin…you had forgotten how soft his skin was…how that lovely shade of rose would blossom and spread…how delightful those little whines he made when your hands found a sensitive spot…how easily he yielded to your desires…

It had been years (too many years) but you found yourself remembering. Where those spots were, how sensitive his nipples were…even the scars he had acquired over the years (so many scars….) just provided another interesting texture, another way to make him moan for you.

Your hands eventually found their way to his waist, drawing your eyes to the erection straining against the zipper….That must be uncomfortable.

A conclusion supported by the relieved sigh that escaped his lips when you popped the button on his jeans. Sighs that turned into groans when you wasted no time pulling down the zipper and reaching inside his boxers for his cock. Wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself biting back a groan of your own. You hadn't forgotten that he was big. But your fading memory was no substitute for actually having your hand around him — he's so thick…You felt another pulse of want between your legs, torn between having this cock buried deep inside your cunt and wrapping your mouth around it and making him scream…

As if he could read your mind, Matt's hands on your hips tightened…

"Please, sweetheart," he panted out, tugging at the waistband of your leggings. "May I? Please…ah!…I need…my mouth on you. Please!"

Oh his begging was just as sweet as it had been all those years ago…how could you deny him?

"Yes, yes," you said, lifting your hips to help him. Matt was quick to accept that help, peeling off both your leggings and panties in one swift action. You needed no encouragement to spread your legs wide for him.

If you thought the moan he made in response was obscenely loud, it was nothing compared to the one you made at the first lick. A slow, long drag of his tongue across your entrance, soon followed by another and another until you were squirming. Until the heavy weight of his arm laid across your hips to keep you pinned exactly where he wanted you. All you could do was whimper and beg for more.

He eagerly gave it to you. He made his way up to your clit where he applied teasing, kitten licks that sent sparks running up your spine. Then, without any warning, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked hard. You cried out, your hips trying in vain to jerk upward but he had no mercy. His arm kept you down and his mouth didn't relent on the pressure. You felt the coil inside you tighten as you drew closer and closer to that edge.

Then he hummed and sent you screaming over that edge.

You drowned in white hot pleasure. Pleasure that only continued to build with Matt lapping hungrily at your entrance, his eager grunts and slurps filling your ears. And just when you thought you could climb no higher, his tongue pressed inside you. You cried out, your hands scrambling to grab onto his hair. Once grabbed, you instinctively tugged on his hair, urging that clever tongue to keep thrusting in and out of you.

A silent order that Matt happily obeyed, moaning with each tug on his hair. The vibration only made you grip him tighter and pull harder…until he suddenly stiffened, letting a moan against your cunt that nearly sent you back over that edge…

The movements of his tongue didn't stop but they began…clumsy. Sometimes long laps, sometimes little licks…sometimes the pressure was featherlight, sometimes it was firm…sometime he swiped across your clit, sometimes his tongue fucked you, sometimes he lathed at your folds…

It was maddening, feeling good enough to bring you up to that edge but not good to send you over it. Even tugging at his hair only added moans that drive you even crazier….you squirmed under his arm. Funny it wasn't pinning you as firmly as before…you could almost just about ride his mouth but not quite…

"Matt," you whined. "Matt…"

Your voice seemed to break through whatever haze had seized his mind because he lifted his head far enough that you could see his face. And despite your recent orgasm, your cunt clenched. He looked positively lewd. Hair amess, lips kiss-swollen and shiny….further wetness smeared on his beard. His eyes were heavy-lidded, glassy…He almost looked drunk…The implications of what he was drunk on had only heightened your frustrated desires…

"Matt," you said. "Please….do I have to beg? Because I'll beg."

He looked confused for a moment before he blinked and the haze cleared a little. He smiled. How did that song go? He looks up, grinning like the devil? If so, that perfectly described that smile. Then you felt a thick finger run through your folds, coating itself in your slick before sliding inside you. "Not this time, sweetheart. All you need to do is ask."

The implication that there would be a next time stoked the growing fire just as much as the finger working its way inside you. You were so wet that it didn't take long for that finger to be buried up to the hilt. Nor did he waste any time fucking you that finger. It felt so good, reaching deeper than his mouth and thick enough to ease that empty feeling but it wasn't enough. "Matt."

"What is it, sweetheart? Do you need another finger?"

"Please!"

"As you wish."

True to his word, a second finger joined its fellow pumping in and out of you. Then those fingers curled and stroked a spot inside you that spent white sparks across your vision. You couldn't have contained your moans if you wanted to. Not that Matt seemed to mind how noisy you were being. Quite the opposite.

"Good girl," Matt rumbled out, his voice gone deeper and huskier. "Keep telling me how good you feel…what you need…"

His breath ghosted over your clit, adding more fuel to the growing fire. Your cunt clenched around his fingers. The resulting moan, the sound and feel of it so close to where you needed him left you whimpering and desperate. Close, you were so close…You tried to arch up into his mouth but his other arm had resumed its task of holding you down. You whined in protest but Matt was unmoved.

"Tell me what you need," Matt whispered. "Another finger? My mouth? What does my sweet girl need to cum?"

"Your mouth," you whimpered. "Please, please."

Before you could get out a third please, he drew your clit into his mouth and began to suck. In a sharp contrast to earlier, the suction was gentle. A tease, if your little nub hadn't already been swollen and sensitive. But it was so almost immediately you were babbling out his name as the fire consumed you — body, mind, and soul.

You barely heard his responding moan but you certainly felt his tongue lapping at the fresh slick flowing around the fingers still buried deep inside you, pressing insistently against that spot that made you burn…

You had no idea how long the pleasure held you under. It might have minutes. It might have been hours. You just knew that, eventually, the pleasure began to ebb. You sank into the mattress, feeling boneless and warm as you watched Matt slowly kiss his way up to your mouth.

This kiss was closer to the gentle, sweet affair that you had imagined but the tang of yourself, the edge of hunger gave it an edge. One that, despite two orgasms, began to kindle renewed heat between your legs. A feeling that only increased when Matt sat up enough to finally take off those jeans. Jeans and boxers that you couldn't help noticing were wet, far too wet to simply be precum. Especially with his cock looking only half-hard…

"Did you?"

"Come just from the taste of you?" Matt said. "Yes."

Your cunt clenched. And, of course, Matt noticed. He chuckled. "That pussy still isn't satisfied?"

"No," you said. "Because that cock still hasn't fucked me into this mattress.”

The cock in question twitched which you took as a sign of interest. Judging by the hunger shining in Matt’s eyes, the rest of him wasn’t opposed to this idea.

“Good point, sweetheart,” Matt said. He leaned down and kissed you again, short but toe-curling. You almost missed the hand sneaking under your back but you didn’t miss the sudden loosening of your bra. Or the eagerness with which he stripped it off of you and cupped your breasts. You breath hitched as his fingers teased one already peaked nipple.

“I can’t leave my sweet girl wanting.”

Taglist: @bellaxgiornata, @pastafossa, @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza, @justvalkyrie, @xoxabs88xox, @flynnethenerd

#daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #bella's 4k follower celebration writing challenge #matt murdock smut #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x fem!reader #ao3 link

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ukulelegodparent · 2 days ago

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I really must say I hate these posts that make it sound like vegans are a major problem here or that leave out relevant details.

Like, I don't think the reason fucking everything is acrylic and polyester mix now is the fault of vegans rather than due to the fact that polyacryl sweaters are far cheaper to produce than wool ones and you can't get quality clothing anymore. This is a fashion industry problem. Not a veganism problem. There are just not that many vegans in the world. And sure the fashion labels who are using these cheap alternatives love to brand them as 'ethical' or whatever but like you do understand that that is a marketing tactic.

Honey is also a great topic. Now, this doesn't apply everywhere. But chances are that where you live honeybees are an invasive species that is taking resources from local native pollinators. Honeybees kind of always do this but it is less of a problem where they are native. Still: if you are considering getting bees to help pollinators, consider planting some local wild flowers and leaving some wood rotting in a corner of your garden (which I hope you have BC if you're trying to raise bees in an apartment I can't help you). It will do more for endangered pollinators than a bee hive ever will. I say this especially BC for example the EU allows companies to do green washing by getting bees which, you're at best doing literally nothing for the environment by keeping bees. Also as a side I know plenty of people who eat meat who consume agave syrup in about the same quantities as I do (next to none, but then I've also never been big on honey either). Like, it's fine to make a post about 'hey, your agave syrup is harming bats' but I don't see why vegans would need to be especially addressed. But then veganism is not a monolith and my diet is certainly not representative of that of eg a Californian vegan.

Also like. Honey is also mostly glucose and fructose. Yes, it has a lot of vitamins too, but acting like agave syrup is unhealthy because of all the sugar as opposed to honey is very silly. If anything a higher fructose content is preferable over glucose considering it does have a lower glycaemic index, assuming you're not allergic. But then I also think being vegan for health reasons is fairly stupid.

I'm also willing to hazard a guess that more agave goes into mezcal and tequila production each year than goes into the production of agave syrup each year. I mean I probably drink more Tequila in a year than I consume agave syrup and I am vegan.

And while yes, if you yourself or someone you know is keeping chicken that's great! I myself hope to some day be in a situation where I can have chicken BC they are my favourite animals. And if that is your situation: eat those eggs! I know how chicken are. If an egg cracks they'll eat it themselves. But then those aren't the only eggs you're eating. You're buying the baked goods from the bakery, you're buying cookies and ready-made cakes from the supermarket, you're eating things that have non-vegan breading, egg pasta, etc. And the chicken who layed those eggs most certainly did not live in someone's backyard with plenty of space to run around and do their little chicken things. Maybe the product at least has an ecological seal so the eggs must have had one too, but even with that there are farms that have some fairly horrid conditions. Basically if you do not personally know where the chicken came from you cannot know what their living conditions are like.

I genuinely do not understand the vendetta some people on this site seem to have against vegans.

Vegans of tumblr, listen up. Harvesting agave in the quantities required so you dont have to eat honey is killing mexican long-nosed bats. They feed off the nectar and pollinate the plants. They need the agave. You want to help the environment? Go back to honey. Your liver and thyroid will thank you, as well. Agave is 90% fructose, which can cause a host of issues. Bye.

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rlimagi · 2 days ago

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No Diggity [ Part I ]

Pairings: Paige Bueckers x actress!reader

Genre: one sided enemies to lovers, force proximity, romcom…

Synopsis: in which you are forced to work with the person who’d made it her life mission to get under your skin every single day of the week since you were in Middle School.

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A laugh rolls of your tongue effortlessly as the host, Jimmy Fallon cracks another one of his jokes, the audience laughed along.

“Okay, okay, enough of that!” Jimmy lets out a chuckle. “Let’s move back to you, oh what a great comeback you had. Coming back after so many years behind the scenes, if I’m correct- you took a huge break after entering High School?”

You nod, leaning against the sofa comfortably. “Yeah, I had a deal with my parents. They didn’t really want me to throw my education away, not to mention that they didn’t even want me acting in the first place…but uh, yeah. I spent all four years getting straight A’s, top of the class, valedictorian, you know just to get my parents to let me go back out.”

Jimmy claps along with the crowd. “That’s only very inspirational, education is definitely important, and valedictorian woah!”

“Yeah, I had to work hard for that one.” You chuckle, reminiscing about your no sleep days when you were cramping for exams.

“Speaking of working hard, your new movie!” Jimmy exclaims, bending down to pick a framed poster. “Earnestly has just grossed over 350 Millions dollars in the box office with a budget of only 15 million, now that is absolutely insane!

How does it feel to have your first movie- since entering adulthood, become such a big deal in the box office, and just a big deal overall?”

You shake your head, a grin spreading. “It’s surreal for sure! Honestly, my manager didn’t even want me to take this role. It was from a small and fairly new production company, the team hadn’t worked on any big names yet, but they sent me in the script and I was hooked.”

You pause to take it all in before continuing. “And I’m so glad I took the risk. I had fun like never before, my coworkers are all so talented and good people, it was just overall a positive environment. I ended up having so much fun filming it, and uh people seemed to really love it as much as I do too. No regrets, definitely.”

Jimmy nods, before leaning against his table. “And what do you think plays in the success of the film? Any specific reason?”

You think for a moment. “I think the world is just deprived of romcoms, I mean sure we’ve had a few romcoms here and there but nothing comparable to the 2000s. I think we’re all now in the reminiscing about the past sort of era, Earnestly definitely fills that void.”

“I agree wholeheartedly and I’m not just saying because you’re here, but no new romcoms have filled that place in my heart but then you came in and did your job. Watching you with your scene parter- Jenna Ortega, was insane, you guys had so much chemistry!”

“Thank you, that means a lot.” You smile, shifting in your seat. “And yeah, Jenna she’s great and is literally best friends with everyone on the set. She definitely made my job a lot more easier.”

“Now, I’m sure roles are rushing to your feet- may we get an idea of what kind of role would you take on next? Another romcom? Or maybe horror, we know you’re a diverse actor.”

“Thank you, but honestly I can’t say anything right now- not because I’m prohibited or anything but uh…I just want it to be a mystery. It’ll be surprising for sure.”

“Awe don’t be such a tease, can’t we get a least a small tiny info on it? I’m sure everyone is dying to know.” Jimmy says and the audience bursts into shouts of agreement with the host.

“Oh wow, the energy.” You laugh before shaking your head. “Alright, I guess I can give you small little hints…umm think, desire, heat, game on.”

“Oh, wow okay. That’s a strong concept, this could go many ways. Romance, thriller, maybe even something like fast and furious- car racing!?”

“Umm, sure…” You give out an unsure smile.

“You don’t look too sure.” Jimmy eyes you suspiciously.

The interview goes on normally and by the end of it, you’re exhausted from all the energy you put into it. You head a great time, but working way too early in the morning makes your body drain out faster than any other time could.

“Please, please, tell me I have nothing left for the day.” You lay your head against the neck rest of the car seat, spreading your legs and arms out like a starfish.

Your manager, also honorary big sister shakes her head. “Nope, you’ve got an WNBA game to attend. Sponsored by the big dog, Nike themselves. Plus, it would benefit you to learn from actual professionals.”

“Please never, ever, say that word ever again.” You groan, cringing at the word she used. Alexandria was such a millennial, it hurts your soul every time she uses phrases cringy phrases unironically.

“You’re such a hater, or should I say an opp?” Alex continues, you are sure she’s just doing it to get a reaction out of you now.

“Oh, so you’re converting to the new gen now? Please, stop. I beg.”

Alex laughs directly at your face before she raises your hands up in surrender. The car ride goes on silently, usually it would be filled with music blasting and you guys would be singing, but whenever you had an early schedule, silent rides is preferred.

You sit on the court side, scanning through the faces of the players as they’re ready to start the match. To be honest, you don’t watch basketball. Not because you don’t respect the game, but more like someone in your past had made you totally avoid it.

So, here you are cluelessly sitting as everyone around you is busying themselves, chattering about the game and what not. Even Alexandrea had left you to talk with the group of girls sitting beside you guys.

“Uh, excuse me?” One of the girls from the group that Alex had been talking to, left her friends and approaches you.

“Hello.” You chuckle, finding the flushing on her face amusing.

“Sorry, to bother you but I’m such a huge fan. You’re literally one of my crushes and gosh, you are so much more beautiful in real life- I’m sorry for rambling on like this but Alex told me to come and say hi.” The teenager rambles on, her face growing more red by the second.

“Awe, thank you! And you’re not bothering me, don’t worry I was getting lonely here. Also, what’s your name?” You grin, gesturing her to sit down with you and the girl almost screeched.

“I’m Angelina, but my friends call me Angie!”

“Well then Angie- can I call you Angie?” You pause, before continuing when the teenager nods her head. “Okay Angie, care to explain how the game works? I don’t really watch basketball.”

"Okay, so this will be a match between the Dallas Wings and the Las Vegas Aces, it's only a preseason game but still is fun to watch.” Angelina pauses to make sure you’re following along, you nod. “Each team starts with five players, but as the game goes on you'll see that some will get benched, so that other players get a chance to play.”

When the game starts, Angelina is still explaining the basics to you and you are grateful. To be frank, you only know they make shots and when it goes in, they score but your knowledge ends there.

You are actively paying attention to the players up until you notices someone familiar, a face that you can’t quite pinpoint to. But then your eyes meet with her, number 5, Bueckers.

Paige fucking Bueckers.

She is blonde now which made it uneasy for you to remember your middle school arch nemesis at first, but she still hold that stupid smug little smirk on her lips that you can recognize anywhere.

Angelina notices your staring and a bigger grin grows on her face. “Ooh, that’s Paige Bueckers you’re looking at- also my wife, but you’re my first wife don’t worry.”

You tear your eyes away from the athlete, your face morphing into a look of disbelief as you look at the younger girl. “You’re like- what 16? How many wives do you have?”

“I’m 17, and too many.” Angelina smiles sheepishly, wavering her hands to brush it off. “Anyways, Paige is from UConn which is literally my dream school-“

“Do you actually want to go there or you just want to because she went there?” You tease, causing the girl to slap your arm.

Angelina glares at you before replying. “I do actually want to, UConn has the best basketball programs and the coaches have been coming to my games. It’s all good.”

“Don’t forget me when you become famous.” You add with a cheeky smile.

Angelina shakes her head, a smile spreading. “Of course not, I’d even make sure to dedicate every single one of my wins to you!”

“You’re too sweet.”

“Thanks! My mother tells me that everyday. Anyway- back to Paige, she’s the most sought after college player in her draft class which is how she got into her team, Dallas got the first pick and Paige was the number one recruit so there’s that.” Angelina rambles on before taking a sip of her drink. “Honestly, I wanted her in the Valkyries but we digress.”

“She sounds like a big deal.” You say, but you are slowly dying inside. You are trying to keep your words to yourself with all the things you have to say about Paige Bueckers.

The same girl who made an enemy out of you in the 6th grade when she threw a basketball at your face and never apologized, the girl who targeted you during dodgeball and made it her life mission to taunt you all through middle school to high school.

Yeah, that Paige Bueckers who you swore you’ll never get to see again after graduation but here you are, five years later sitting in one of her games.

The girl sitting beside you nod in agreement. “She is a big deal, honestly if it weren't for her injury back in college she would've been even bigger. But it's all good because she's going to make history, I'm sure of it."

You watch as the said player gain possession of the ball and dribbles it over to the line, tailed by two other players before she jumps and make the point against the defending of three players.

It was pure art and you can’t even deny it as much as it pains you to.

“That’s my wife!” Angelina jumps out and shouts while you hide your face from the people who looked over.

Fortunately, the Wings lost and the light inside you brightened up a little as you happily sip the last of your drink, getting ready to get home to enjoy the embrace of your bed and your puppy, Jam.

“Awe, I guess this is the end. I’m so glad you allowed me to spend time with you!” Angelina smiles solemnly as she hugs you.

You return the hug and a smile with it. “I had so much fun sitting next to you too and your rambles. Hey, how about we keep contact? I want to make sure you’ll keep your promises.”

“Oh em gee! Yes! Of course, here’s my instagram.” Angelina hands over her phone and after you exchanged contacts, you both went your separate ways.

You are about to leave the court when Alexandrea comes back and pulls you by your shoulder. “Not so fast, kid.”

“You’re like only six years older.” You scoff, crossing your arms. “And why exactly am I not allowed to go and enjoy the comfort of my bed and newborn?”

“Y/n, your dog is not a human child and he is not a newborn. Plus, six years is a lot of years which makes it acceptable for me to call you kid since you act like one, and there’s just someone I’d like you to meet.” Alexandrea snarks back and taps on your shoulder.

“Remember when I told you I arranged for a player to be sort of your mentor since you’ve gotta start learning how to play?”

You eye her suspiciously as you guys start to walk dangerously to close to the players, or more specifically Jersey number 5. “Yeah…?”

“Well, my good friend is on the team- well actually my little sister’s friend but we’re connected so who cares about the details.” Alexandrea waves it off and you start to grow a little on edge as you start to get closer to the player. “You’ll see.”

"Hey, Paige! It's so nice to see you again.” Your manager grins as she and the tall woman dab each other up.

You are completely stone cold, you’re pretty sure your blood had stopped circulating by then. Of course it had to be fucking Paige Bueckers.

"Aye, you too Alex.” Paige grin, before her eyes averted to yours. Instantly there is a spark, a spark of heat igniting that had been lost over the years, a spark of hatred.

You glare at Paige while her lips forms a smirk, a stupid smug smirk that you wish you can punch off.

“Paige, this is Y/n. Y/n, this is Paige. You guys will be working together so I thought it’s better to introduce you guys early on.” Alex informs and you almost want to bang your head on the floor.

No way in hell would you agree if you had known before hand. “What?!?”

Alex’s brows raises at your reaction. “Is there a problem?”

You glare at Alex with a look that says ‘I’ll tell you later.’ And she nods in understanding before looking back at Paige.

“Okay, moving back. Arrangements will be made for you guys to work in the Wing’s court, schedules will be sent to you both in a few days when I and Paige’s manager sort out your free times.”

“Hold on, I just have a question. Why can’t I just work with a coach instead? Wouldn’t it be less of a hassle this way.” You suggest, eyes gleaming in hope that is to be shut down the second your manager slash number one hater opens her mouth.

“Nope, using a coach is not a bad idea but Paige is a good teacher and the whole team is on board with this. Plus, according to the few TikToks I’ve seen, apparently you guys went to the same High School?”

“Yeah, that’s right we shared almost all of our classes together.” Paige says casually as you are trying to ignore her existence.

“Oh, so you guys are friends then. That makes my job much easier.”

“Yeah.”

“Nope.”

You and Paige answers at the same time, causing you both to look at each other but with exact opposite reactions. You glared while she grinned.

Paige waves her hands and sneakingly places her arm on your shoulder, not budging when you try to push her off. “She’s playing, we’re actually the best of friends. Actually, Y/n used to be wild at parties. She was a huge deal in high school, I couldn’t go on a second without hearing her name.”

You roll your eyes, fucking liar. Actually the last bit isn’t a lie, you were popular and threw a bunch of wild parties in High school, but you and Paige were and are not definitely besties. “At least I got straight A’s and became Valedictorian unlike somebody. Paige, have you turned in that assignment from Ms. Bailey from the 6th grade yet?”

Paige scoff, taking her arms off of your shoulder as she places her hand on her chest and faux offense. “Hey, that was years ago and at l passed my classes okay?”

“Yeah, barely.” You say snarkily.

Alex, sensing the animosity gets in between you two. “Okay, ladies I’m sensing some tension here. You both are tired and drained out, how about we call it a day?”

“Hmm, sure.” Paige mumbles, avoiding your eye.

“Finally!” You exclaim, practically flying as you walk away in glee.

Your week went on normally, a few interviews here and there, commercial and magazine shoots, it was all great. Your schedule was packed and you felt happier than ever, well until Friday evening that is.

The day you had to meet up with Paige Bueckers again. You were sick of her face and name already.

“We’re going to work together all month so let’s make a truce, you don’t bother me, I don’t bother you. Deal?”

Paige pretends to think for a moment before shrugging. “Nah, I love watching you getting all worked up over me.”

Your jaw drops. “Wow, somebody’s cocky. I don’t get worked up over you, Bueckers.” You grind your teeth as you walk over the taller woman, placing your finger right into her chest.

Your eye flickers to her lips for a second- since when did she put on lip gloss, and your frown falters for a bit before getting replaced with a softer one. “Your face is just annoying.”

Paige smirks, shaking her head as she dribbles a ball around before shooting it into the net, it goes right through. “Yet, you keep looking at it.”

You hold your tongue back, knowing if not then the words you wanted to say would get you an immediate invite to the cancelled party. “Whatever, let’s just get this over with.”

You reluctantly accept the ball Paige handed over, tapping it up and down before trying to make a shot. It doesn’t go in, in fact it hit the rims and flies straight over to Paige’s head.

“Shit!” You exclaim, running over Paige who is stumbling her steps trying to keep her balance. “I’m so sorry.”

You keep apologizing even as Paige waves her hands around saying that it’s fine, but it really isn’t because blood is flowing from both of her nose and she looks like she’s about to go into a deep, deep slumber any second now.

You walk her over to a seat, stumbling a few times in the process. She is much taller and stronger than you are so it was definitely a struggle to carry a 6’0 athlete anywhere.

“Hey, Paige? Stay awake for me, okay?” You say softly, using your handkerchief to stop the blood from dripping down. It was your favorite thing from since when you’re a baby, but there are more important things right now. “I have to call for the nurse now.”

“No, no- stay…I’m fine.” Paige grips your wrist tight, trying to look normal.

Your eyes softens and it is filled up with guilt. “No, you’re not and it’s my fault. Just don’t be stubborn and let me help you, okay.”

Paige nods obediently, finding no more energy to argue.

You left Paige to call for medical aid, luckily it wasn’t all too bad and Paige would be fine after a few days of rest but you still felt extremely guilty. She’d gotten hurt and had to miss a game because of you.

#paige bueckers x reader #wlw #UConn x reader #wnba #wnba x reader #Paige x reader #wbb x reader #uconn huskies #fanfic #wnba imagine #Paige Bueckers fanfic #gxg #gxg imagine #lesbian

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dannyriccsystem · 21 hours ago

Note

hiii! first of all, CONGRATS ON 1K!!!! soooooooo proud of you!! second of all, could i ask for danny with 3 and 4?

MY LONELY DAYS ARE OVER…

1K SPECIAL - DR3

Soft make out session + “Did you eat today?”

SUMMARY: Danny is always making sure you’re full and happy :)

WORD COUNT: 459

WARNINGS: Fluff! Yay!

FEATURING: Husband!Dad!Daniel Ricciardo x Wife!Mom!Reader

NOTE: Something short because I have the worst headache but I miss him :)

TODAY HAD BEEN FULL OF NONSTOP NOISE. That was to be expected when you have a five-year-old who loves to run around and cause chaos. Recently Danny had been putting a lot of work into… Well, just, everything. The ranch, his own business, your daughter. Everything. So you wanted to give him a day to hang out with friends.

What you didn’t realize is that maybe he has the right charm to handle all those things. Everyday when you both were going to sleep, he still seemed so full of life and energy. Right now it seemed like your child was sapping it away from you. Of course you loved her, but she was certainly a handful.

You were starting to feel defeated as she ran rampant. You sat down on the couch, your head buried in your hands. How does he do it? How does he manage everything all at once so effortlessly. You told yourself you just needed a moment of rest, but it ended up being… A few moments.

The door suddenly opened, and it was like your guardian angel had appeared. Danny entered your home humming and grinning whilst carrying some sort of paper bag. He saw the sight, and he just chuckled. You clearly needed some TLC, so he walked over and kissed your weary forehead.

“Have you eaten today?” Was his first question. You looked a mess, but if he wanted to live, he dare not say such a thing.

“Does coffee count?” You joked, and your husband tutted with disapproval as he handed over the bag in his hand. You opened it up and peeked inside, your mouth nearly watering. He had picked up a sandwich for you! How nice of him. “Thank you.”

He grabbed one of your hands, dramatically dropping to one knee to kiss your knuckles, and then up your arm. “De rien, mon amour…” He spoke in a shitty french accent, his lips pursed into a kissy face. You giggled at the dramatics and pulled him in for a short kiss.

A short kiss turned into a series of short kisses, which turned into Danny chasing your lips again and again for more. You finally pulled away, blocking him with your hand. “Alright, alright. Let me eat first.”

“Deal.” He grinned that typical Danny grin, where all of his teeth were showing. The type where you knew he was sincerely happy. He turned away, his arms out like he was mocking a bear. “Alright, where’s my little rascal at?”

You heard your daughter’s joyful squeals, and watched as Danny rushed off to chase after her. It was noisy, but it was the soft, domestic noise that filled your heart with joy.

Yes, this is what it’s all about.

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notarmedandnotdangerous · 3 days ago

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hi i just wanted to say I LOVE UR POSTS SO MUCH YOU ARE DOING A SERVICE TO THE MALE READER BUCKY FANS🫡 anyways pls.. more dom bucky i beg.. specifically 1940's bucky where yk it was illegal to be fruity.. PLS idk why a gay-in-denial 1940's bucky has been stuck in my head for so long anyways bye ily goat

a/n: hiii thank you sm i really appreciate it!! :) i really try to serve the male readers out there as much as i can!! i didn't really have a lot of knowledge about officer ranks, so i had to do a bit of research, and it took me quite a while, but i really hope i captured what you wanted in this, i hope you enjoy it 😋

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+18 mdni! sergeant!bucky pining after duty officer!reader who's too scared to tell bucky how he actually feels.

cw: dom!bucky, sub!m!reader, porn with plot (shocking), pining, reader calls bucky 'james', and 'sergeant', bucky calls reader 'darling', and 'officer', flirty!bucky, innocent!reader, homophobia mentioned, bucky has a hair pulling kink, missionary, fingering, blowjob (?), handjob, creampie (?), they say 'i love you' at the end!!!

word count: >4.6k

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summer, 1943

the war had taken so much already, cities, brothers, allies. but it had also given you and bucky, who was a sergeant at the time, something strange, something private. he met you in an office in new york city, crowded with typewriters, and ration slips. he wore his confidence like a medal of honor, while you were all jittery nerves and untied laces, always adjusting your tie a bit too tight.

“you’re going to strangle yourself one day, you know. death by self-doubt.”

“it’s just.. crooked. the knot feels off.” you reached towards your neck to straighten your tie, again.

“no it’s not. it’s perfect, as always. it’s you that’s twisted up.. inside.” he pressed his pointer finger against your chest, where your heart was.

“that’s reassuring.” you said dryly, swatting his finger away from you playfully.

“i mean it kindly, officer.” even though he teased you often, he liked the way you carried yourself, previously mentioning how it gave you a ‘clandestine charm’ of sorts.

“is that supposed to be a compliment, sergeant?” you played along, the both of you had always enjoyed calling each other by your ranks, it just made you feel connected to him, in a way that you shouldn’t be feeling.

“depends on how you view it.” bucky shrugged, before walking away. he complimented you often, almost too often, as if he wanted you to believe him one day.

one morning, you had run late, your collar was buttoned wrong while your tie was slightly crooked. you hurried into the office, stumbling into your seat. bucky was there already, waiting by your table. he tipped his hat at you, making your face heat up in embarrassment. you prayed that no one else saw, that no one would suspect the way you felt about him.

“you’re all buttoned up wrong, officer.” he stepped closer towards you, fixing your collar and tie for you. his fingers had brushed against your throat in the process, making you hold your breath nervously. he seemed to have noticed the way you reacted though, he chuckled, before pulling away. your heart knew what your mouth dared not to say.

it was 1943, you could lose everything for wanting a man like him. bucky never seemed afraid, though. he’d wink at you during tea breaks, and write notes, either passing them to you or sneakily tucking them into the pockets of your coats. he’d write you notes like ‘if you find yourself losing sleep tonight, indulge and think about me. i’ll be thinking of you too, no doubt.’. you never wrote back, you were too scared to. but you’ve kept all of them though, slipping the notes in between pages of your notebooks to hide them from the eyes of others.

whenever the both of you had to work extra long shifts, he’d join you, pushing the paperwork over so that he’d be able to sit on your desk. he’d always lean in, talking about paris, as if it was a dream the both of you might share, someday.

“we’d go dancing.” he spoke, his voice low. “we wouldn’t have to be afraid there.”

“war will be over soon, maybe.” you laughed, your head tipping downwards to look at the ground.

winter 1943.

a few months had passed since you met bucky. one night, the both of you had drinks at your flat, the both of you sat on the floor against the couch as you drank.

“you shouldn’t look at me like that.” you turned to bucky, he looked even better in this dim lighting, it made you want him more than you should.

“like what, darling?”

“like you know me. like.. like you want to.” the both of you sat in silence for a while, before he broke the silence.

“maybe i do.”

“this.. we’re not in a french novel, james. it’s not poetry. you know what they’d do to us if they found out.” you sighed out, taking a sip from your glass of whiskey.

“men like us. you said it. that’s the first time you’ve ever put yourself in the same sentence as me.”

“..d-don’t make light of this.”

“i’m not. i never do, not with you.” bucky turned towards you, his hands fidgeting with a stopwatch.

“easy for you to say, you don’t have a father waiting at home with expectations, or a commanding officer who’ll feed you to the wolves if you screw up.” you said, bitterly.

“you think i’m not scared? you think i don’t lie awake at night, thinking about who might’ve saw us talking too long, standing too close?” he closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. “but i’d rather risk it than live pretending all of this isn’t real.” you stared at him, your jaw tightening.

“you.. you don’t understand, james. i’ve spent my whole life keeping quiet, k-keeping my hands to myself.” you spat out. “you.. you come along with your easy smile, and your stupid poems..” your eyes were glassy, filled with tears that threatened to spill out. “i.. i don’t know how to survive the way you love.”

“i’ve seen enough of this war to know one thing. the world doesn’t give you many chances at something good, you have to take it when it comes.” bucky took your hands in his, caressing your fingers. “i don’t wanna mess this up, not with you.”

“it.. it’s not that easy.” tears rolled down your cheeks as your breath stuttered.

“then let me teach you, darling. i’m not asking you to shout it from the rooftops. just.. just stay with me little longer. don’t go down there pretending again.” there was a long silence, before you leaned against his shoulder. not quite a touch, but just enough.

you had let bucky stay at your flat, just to keep you company. you had let him take the bed, while you slept on the floor. the both of you laid awake, staring into the ceiling.

“when i was thirteen, i got caught staring at a boy for too long in the chapel. my father made me kneel in gravel for a day. told me i had the devil in me.” bucky didn’t speak, just listened as you opened up. “funny thing is, i believed him. i-i thought if i ignored it.. prayed hard enough, it’ll all go away.” you let out a bitter laugh.

“did it?”

“you know it didn’t. you walk around like it’s not a sin to want someone like me, like.. like it’s not a curse. i don’t know how you do it, james.”

“it is a curse, but not the kind they think. the real curse is hiding, watching the person you love walk away, all because the both of you are too scared to love each other.” he spoke, his voice cracking. “you know i love you, right?” he confessed. you were quiet, just listening to what he had to say. “i’m not asking you to say it back.. i just want to know that you feel something.”

“if i didn’t feel anything, i wouldn’t have invited you over, would’ve shut you out.” bucky sat up, moving down to pick you up from the floor. he set you down next to him on the bed, pulling the covers over the both of you.

“we could run away together, start a new life somewhere far away from here, like switzerland. someplace where no one would know who we are, and wouldn’t care if two men slept together in the same bed.” your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t move, not even an inch. you didn’t answer. no, you couldn’t, not when you knew what they would do to people like you.

“i don’t think a place like that exists, not yet at least.”

“maybe not, but i’d rather chase a lie than live without you.” the both of you turned in bed, to face each other. you looked at him, then, just barely, you smiled softly at him.

“have you always been this poetic?”

“only when i’m terrified. or in love.” bucky shuffled, sitting up. “can i..?” he looked at you, and you nodded. you moved closer to him, and let him kiss you. he pulled you onto his lap, all while continuing to kiss you.

“if we keep this up, someone’ll talk.”

“then let them.” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a button. “here. from my uniform. soldiers give the second button to someone they love. first one’s too proud, second one is close to the heart.” you stared at it momentarily, before reaching out to grab it. you held it in your palm as if it was something fragile, as if it would shatter. you placed the button underneath your pillow

“what if i lose it?”

“you won’t.” bucky kissed your forehead, innocently, before moving lower to kiss your neck as delicately as he could. “would you let me..” he looked down at your crotch, before looking back up at you. you were inexperienced, but he definitely wasn’t.

“yes, james, yes.” you nodded, nervously.

“it’s okay, i’ll be nice for you, darling. don’t have to take too much at once.”

“you promise? you won’t push me too hard, too fast?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a last ditch attempt to retreat to safer emotional ground.

“of course, darling. come on, strip for me.” bucky commanded, and you shyly removed your shirt and pants. “holy..” his brain practically short circuited when he saw you bare for the first time.

“you’re.. acting different, james.” you remarked, confused as to why bucky was so shocked.

“huh..? oh, uh, it’s nothing.” he snapped out of his trance, gently placing his hands on your bare hips. “just.. you’re just so pretty, darling.” he smiled as he kissed you gently, before taking his clothes off as well.

“you’re not so bad yourself.” you teased, voice filled with affection, and a tiny hint of mischief. “don’t let it get to your head, or i might start to think that you’re getting too cocky for your own good.” you added, with a wink.

“mhm, come on.” bucky let you lay against the pillows, while he propped your feet up on the bed as he slot his head in between your thighs. he kissed your inner thighs, and it made your cock twitch in your boxers. “it’s okay, darling. i’ve got you.” he pulled your boxers off gently, letting your cock spring out.

“oh, james..” you whispered, your eyes widening in surprise as the soft fabric of your boxers were gently tugged free. he leaned forward, kissing the base of your cock, before moving to the tip. “aah.. that.. that feels so good..” you breathed, your hips twitching involuntarily. “keep going..?” your words dissolved into a whispered plea, as his tongue began to explore you. he tried his best not to overwhelm you, after all, he was your first. he looked up at you from in between your thighs, and your eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry.. c-can’t help it.” you stammered, your voice trembling slightly as you tried to maintain eye contact. “just.. just feels too good.” your hands fisted the sheets as you arched your back. he started to tease your tip with his tongue now, wanting to slowly but consistently build up the pleasure.

“is that okay, darling?” he asked, and you nodded profusely in response.

“y-yes, just like that..” you whispered, your hips rocking up to meet his tongue. “feels like i’m drowning in pleasure..” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed as you surrendered to the pleasure. “more, please, james.” you pleaded, your thighs trembling.

“mmh.” bucky hummed in approval, sucking on your tip. you whined, and tugged on his hair, unknowingly uncovering a kink that he, himself, wasn’t aware of. he stopped abruptly, trying to calm himself down from the sudden stimulation. “holy.. uugh, my god..”

“d-did i do something?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion. when he finally looked up at you, his eyes were glazed over with lust, it was then, when you finally realised. “james.. i had no idea..”

“no. please, do that again.” he began to suck on your tip once more, waiting for you to tug on his hair more..

“aah, y-yes..” to please him, your fingers sunk into his short, dark hair, pulling gently. in response, his eyes rolled back.

“mmh..” bucky moaned, while his mouth was still on your cock, and it made you cum immediately. he tried his best to keep himself calm, but your thighs locked around his head as you came. when you finally came down from your high, you realised that he was rolling his hips against the mattress, trying to get off from you tugging on his hair.

“did i hurt you..?”

“no, of course not, darling. come here, please, i want more.. more of that.” you were pleasantly surprised as he turned into a needy mess, just from getting his hair tugged on. “do you want to suck me off too? or..”

“ah.. you want me to suck you off..?” you asked. “i.. i’ve never done that before, but if it’s something you want, i can.. i can learn, i’ll try for you.” you offered, climbing towards him. you got on your knees on the ground, while he sat on the edge of the bed.

“oh my god..” bucky was trying so hard to not cum just from the sight of you on your knees in front of him. “you can just.. try with your hands instead.”

“ah right.. with my hands.” you agreed, nodding as you slid your hands up his thigh, feeling the way his muscles tensed underneath your hands. “you want me to touch you.. like this?” you asked, your fingers gently stroking the inside of his thighs, making his breath hitch. “is it okay if i explore more.. here?” you trailed your touch lower, pulling your boxers off of you.

“yeah, please do.” he threw his head back, if he had to look down at you throughout the entire thing, he’d cum before you even touched him.

“oh my god, you’re so responsive, james.” you breathed, your touch becoming more confident as he seemed like he was enjoying it. “do you like that..? am i doing it right?”

“so- aagh, so good. yes, darling, k-keep going.” he whined when you circled your fingers around his tip. “g-gosh, please- aah..”

“tell me what you want, james, i want to learn.” you started to slowly stroke him, only for him to stop you, grabbing your wrist.

“no, want to cum inside you.” bucky spoke, absentmindedly, before realising what he had just admitted. you paused your ministrations, heart skipping a beat as his words sunk in.

“cum inside me.. like, inside my ass?” you asked, your voice a little shaky. “are you sure? i-i’ve never.. you know.” you trailed off, your face flushing red as you thought about the act.

“oh, darling, it’s okay. w-we don’t have to.” he pushed you back against the bed, and moved back in between your legs. “just let me make you feel good, okay?”

“you.. don’t have to worry about me. you’ve made me feel incredible already, james.” your hips jumped when he kissed your inner thighs. “i can take it.”

“are you sure? i don’t wanna rush you.” he looked up at you.

“yes, w-wanna make you feel good.” you cupped his face from in between your thighs. “i trust you, james.” his face flushed, you were so innocent, and so sweet, a huge contrast to him.

“you’re gonna kill me if you keep on sweet talking me like that.” bucky kissed your cheek, before letting you suck on his fingers. you sucked as well as you could, letting your drool drip down from the sides of your mouth. then, he pressed a finger into you slowly, making you gasp.

“it’s okay, you’re doing good.” he slowly thrusted his finger in and out of you, slowly stretching you open. soon after, he had three fingers in you, and you were moaning and gasping. “are you ready, darling?” you nodded diligently, face flushed bright red.

“please, do it.” he put you in a mating press, before he slowly pressed the tip against your hole, slowly entering you. you gasped at the stretch, grabbing onto his shoulders tightly.

“shh, i’ve got you.” bucky slowly entered you, inch by inch. when he finally sunk in fully, he rested his forehead against yours, breathing slowly. “you’re doing so good, i’m so lucky, so lucky to have you.” he started to slowly thrust, making you let out high-pitched whimpers that you didn’t even know were possible.

“y-you’re so.. haa.. so deep..” your head was thrown back as you let him slowly fuck you dumb. “feels so good..” you pulled his face towards you to kiss him, smiling softly at him. he started to thrust a bit harder, when he realised you’ve accommodated to his size, he hit your prostate perfectly, making you gasp for air with every thrust.

“you’re taking me so well.. nngh.. w-wouldn’t have it any other way.” he pressed your legs up against your chest, letting him fuck you impossibly deeper. all you could do was take it, letting him fuck you so good, you’d walk silly tomorrow.

“i-i’m gonna cum, james..” you whimpered, teary eyed as you spoke. “can i?.. p-please..”

“can’t say no to you, darling. not when i’m 9 inches deep inside you.” he leaned down to kiss you as you came, your cum spurting all over your abdomen. “aah- mmh, so good for me.” he started to thrust more frantically now, giving you a few harder thrusts before cumming inside with a groan. the both of you stayed together for a while, panting as you both came.

“i love you, sergeant.”

“love you too, officer.”

#bucky barnes x male reader #x male reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #james buchanan barnes #bottom male reader #sub male reader #top bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction

145 notes · View notes

mosskissed · 3 days ago

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MIRAAAA i'm putting all this under a cut bec i was typing while i read and. i think i got too carried away for the tags LDJFFJ but AAAA i am holding this fic close to my chest

THIS WAS SOSOSOSO GOOD. i trust your characterization with my life i think !! sae is so annoying and funny and sweet and just. i'm shaking him in my hands gently like a snowglobe and i wanna eat him. i looooved his flimsy excuses to keep seeing her and the snarkiness he throws at her all the while as if he isn't obsessed

and your READER i loved her so much !!!!! sososo funny and silly (+ i lost it every time she called him short and ugly like the body is cold on the ground leave him be !!!!) and she was so well-fleshed out too ^^; her relationship with her family was so nice to read with the bits we see (and you capture having a younger brother so perfectly too like "uglier sibling: LIAR. FRAUD. HACK" -> that's literally my brother KLSJDF)

your dialogue is so consistently funny and engaging but also so You it was so fun to read sobs i love the dynamic between the two of them DJDFG i feel like an idiot i just keep saying i love but like. i love !!!!!!

okay. so like i said i jotted down little incoherent notes as i read so here are some specifics that made me feel crazy yesyes ( ◡̀ . ◡́)ᕤ

"ask your brother about sae itoshi" starting off strong by almost immediately giving me the urge to hit him with bricks

“I’m an athlete,” he said seriously. “I need a lot of protein in all of my meals. Especially because I’m so short. It’s important for me to build muscle, don’t you agree? How else will I manage to compete with the taller, better-looking players?” okay he kinda gagged her with that one... as an empath i sense he won't be letting this go

him ordering the sandwich for her... oh man it's happening THINGS ARE HAPPENING !!!!!! SOIJFDFJ AND HE PAID FOR IT TO SEE HER AGAIN SAE ITOSHI WHEN I GET MY HANDS ON YOU

You were already panting for breath when Sae picked up the pace, though he had not so much as broken a sweat yet. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, taking in your obvious struggles, and then he made the decision to not slow down at all. WHAT IS HIS PROBLEM "This is embarrassing for you.” HE SUUUUUUCJS

"Now you have to see me tomorrow,” he said. “Bye. I’ll pick you up for dinner, so make sure to wear something nice, and bring your credit card. It’s your treat.” KICKING MY FEET MIRA SKDRIHJKSH THE WAY HE'S STILL REFUSING TO EXPLICITLY ASK HER OUT... sae your loverboy is showing (OSRIJFSORGJ I GOT TOO WRAPPED UP IN THE CAR/DINNER SCENE TO ADD ANYTHING BUT IT WAS AMAZING)

how together, you and him had eaten lunch and dinner and breakfast and several meals that you were convinced he had just made up to have an excuse to buy food for the two of you — brunch, linner, midnight snacks and third desserts. -> SLJDLFJ CLUTCHING MY CHEST i feel winded. i'm standing on the sidelines holding pompoms with her entire family it seems

"I like lonely things,” he said. “That’s why the end of the summer is my favorite season.” “Hm,” you said. “Then, if I tell you that I’ll be lonely once I leave here, will you like me, too?” WEREWOLF TEARING SHIRT MEME FJWKFKDN THE ENTIRE CONFESSION IS INSANE IT'S SO THEM

"I can’t be with a man who’s afraid of rejection. It was nice knowing you, Sae,” you said. “See you around. Hope you lose the Champions League.” -> the ugly snort that escaped me reading this KLSJFLJF

i'm sorry i wish i had a better way of phrasing everything i hope that all made sense but !!!!! tldr this was so enjoyable and lovely and engaging and and and i already wanna reread it i'll be so for real

hi mira can i pls req a sae x reader and it’s like falling in love with someone. like you know that feeling when you’re really getting to know someone and it sounds like a soft song

i love uu take care x

Synopsis: Thanks to a chance encounter on the beach, you spend your vacation trying to apologize to the famous soccer player you inadvertently offended. Unfortunately, Sae Itoshi has other plans.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 11.6k

Content Warnings: love at first sight, fluff, humor, teasing as a love language, sae does not understand emotions or relationships but he’s rich asf, reader has a little brother and loves eating, meet-cutes, summer romance, SEAGULLS

A/N: although sae is a difficult character for me to get a hold of, i ended up having fun with this LMAO as i’m sure you can tell by the massive word count 😭 i hope he’s not horribly ooc or anything and that this is kind of what you were looking for anon!! tysm for requesting and ily too <3

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

You tried to evaluate the series of choices you had made which had led to you lying atop a boy with green eyes and sand smeared across his cheeks, a blank expression on his face despite the way you were literally sprawled over him.

First: your family had decided to spend your summer vacation in Spain. This was innocuous and broad enough, considering how large the country was, so you concluded that your brother’s desire to practice his rudimentary Spanish in a more realistic setting than his high school classroom could not be blamed for your plight.

Second: your father had gotten a great deal on rooms in a luxury beachfront hotel. He was like a bloodhound when it came to haggling and discounts, so it wasn’t a surprise that you were staying in such a nice place for a relatively cheap price — and with a complimentary breakfast every morning, too! Anyways, the hotel had its own private pool that you could’ve been lounging around beside, so that probably wasn’t the cause, either.

Third: your mother had told you that the beach within walking distance of the hotel was famous for its smooth waters and pale sand. You had to visit at least once, according to her and every other travel guide written about the region, but since no one had wanted to go with you, you had decided to go alone, bringing a book, a bottle of sunscreen, and a blanket with you, throwing a dress on over your swimsuit and preparing yourself to spend the entire day soaking in the sun’s rays. This was definitely a contributor to your current predicament, although considering the miles of beach that stretched out in both directions as far as the eye could see where you could’ve been instead of right there, it wasn’t the sole factor.

Fourth: you had thought you would get hungry at some point and had had the foresight to bring a sandwich with you. That was definitely the reason. If only you hadn’t been so concerned with your stomach! If only you had just sucked it up and made the trek back to the hotel upon feeling peckish instead of being so lazy and planning ahead, you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“Can you get off of me?” the boy groaned.

“I am so sorry!” you said, scrambling to your feet and offering him your hand. He did not take it, standing on his own and doing his best to wipe the sand from his face. Then he shook his head like a dog, shaking out the grittiness from his soft hair. “I’m really sorry. I was just running so fast, and I was so worried about my sandwich that I didn’t notice you were there until it was too late!”

“Sandwich?” he said. A few paces away, a seagull landed, the remnants of your lunch held in its beak. You and the boy watched as it tilted its head back, swallowing the last few bites before cawing at you in satisfaction.

“You pig!” you shouted, pointing at it, the boy beside you temporarily forgotten as you fumed over the loss. It cocked its head at you. “That was mine!”

“Ah,” the boy said. “Your sandwich.”

The seagull hopped towards you, like it was teasing you or something, and you screeched before diving at it. Satisfied with the mischief it had caused and the food it had stolen, as well as with making a fool out of you, the seagull took wing, flying well out of reach and leaving you facedown on the ground, your stomach grumbling sadly and emptily.

A foot nudged against your rib cage. “Hey. Sandwich girl. You’re not concussed, are you?”

Being referred to as sandwich girl was so humiliating that you were instantly pushing yourself into a sitting position, folding your arms across your chest as you gazed up at the boy, who still wore that same unimpressed expression from when you had barreled into him.

“No,” you said.

“That’s great,” he said, though he did not sound particularly concerned nor relieved. “Mind elaborating a bit more on why you ran me over? You could’ve seriously injured me, and then you would’ve been in a bunch of trouble.”

“You would’ve been in a bunch of trouble,” you mocked, making your voice high and smarmy. “Jeez, what are you, some kind of celebrity or something? I ran you over because I was taking a break from reading my book, and I realized that I was hungry. Well, luckily, I had brought a sandwich along with me, so it wasn’t a huge deal. I was just about ready to dig in, when that fat pig of a bird swooped down and stole it right out of my hands! The gall! The shamelessness! It was definitely laughing at me, and I can’t stand anyone who laughs at me, so naturally I took off in pursuit, and, uh, that’s how I ended up crashing into you. Though you really should’ve been paying more attention, too. What’s so fascinating about the horizon that you just blocked out the rest of the world for it?”

“I like looking at the ocean,” he said. “But, wait. What do you mean, some kind of celebrity? Don’t you know who I am?”

You gave him a once-over. He was tall, though not impressively so, and definitely well-muscled. His hair was a warm shade, and his green eyes were framed with long eyelashes that fluttered every time he blinked. A pair of sunglasses was perched atop the crown of his head, and the top few buttons of his white shirt were undone, lending him a breezy appearance.

“You’re not handsome enough to be an actor, so that can’t be it,” you said, chewing on your lower lip in thought. “Plus, I’ve seen a bunch of movies, and I’m pretty sure you haven’t been in any of them, so if you were in the film industry, you’d be a D-lister at best, and there’s no way you’d want to flex that kind of status.”

He furrowed his brow, the first hint of a different expression than the one he had kept for the entirety of your very brief acquaintance. “What?”

“What else are people famous for?” you said. “Oh! Are you a singer or something? Were you in that one boy band from a few years ago? I’m sorry, I was too busy having a ‘not-like-other-girls’ phase when they were popular, so I never got into them. I’m over the phase now, if you were wondering, but that would be why I didn’t recognize you.”

“You are amazingly off the mark,” he said.

“I am? I’m kind of out of ideas at this point, though. Can I have a hint or something?” you said.

“Do you watch soccer?” he said. You made a face.

“Hell no,” you said. His eye twitched, so you hurried to elaborate. “My little brother is obsessed with it, so by law, I’m required to hate everything related to the sport. Do you have any siblings? You’d get it if you did.”

“Ask your brother about Sae Itoshi,” he said.

“Okay,” you said, drafting a text to your brother and sending it when you had deemed it to be a perfect blend of uninterested and cool while also underscoring the urgency of the request. “So, your name’s Sae Itoshi? I’m Y/N L/N! I’m not a celebrity, though. If you text anyone and ask them about me, they’ll probably be pretty confused.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” he said. Your phone vibrated in your hand, and when you looked at the notification, you saw that it was from your brother.

uglier sibling: no shit i know about sae itoshi. he’s that one super talented midfielder on re al. he’s dad and i’s fav player atm.

You gulped, glancing up at Sae before returning to your phone.

me: lol wtf is re al.

uglier sibling: it’s madrid’s team lmfaooo dumbass how do you not know that

uglier sibling: actually wait why are u even asking lol

uglier sibling: did u meet him or something

me: funny story actually!

uglier sibling: WHAT

uglier sibling: y/n are u with sae itoshi rn.

uglier sibling: y/n answer pls

uglier sibling: can you at least get his autograph for me or smth???

Pretending like you were still texting your brother, you typed the name Sae Itoshi into your phone’s search engine. The photos that came up matched the boy in front of you, and the news articles made your heart pound. He actually was a celebrity, and furthermore, his earlier arrogance was deserved. If you had somehow injured such a famous player and put him out of commission for the season, then you really would’ve been done for. It hadn’t been an exaggerated sense of self-importance but an honest evaluation of himself.

“Ahem,” you said, feigning a cough to appear dignified and mature. “It seems like you are a pretty well-known soccer player, Mr. Itoshi.”

“It seems like I am,” he said.

“My brother and dad are big fans, apparently,” you said.

“Good thing you didn’t take me out permanently, then, or I’m sure they would’ve been pretty disappointed,” he said.

You cringed. “I’m sorry again.”

“Whatever. I won’t hold it against you; all’s well that ends well, after all,” he said.

“I feel really bad, though,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly. “Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“You didn’t do anything, so there’s nothing to make up for,” he said.

“Not true! I knocked you over and said you’re not handsome!” you said. “I’d say that warrants some kind of recompense.”

“It’ll warrant more recompense if you keep saying it,” he said.

“You agree that you deserve payment, then? Great! Um…how about I…buy you lunch?” you said, the insistent pangs of your stomach reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.

“Is food the only thing you can think about?” he said.

“For your information, it is not, but I haven’t eaten since the morning, so I’m hungry,” you said.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m not interested, and just so you know, I’ve been asked out by plenty of girls, but by far, this has been the lamest attempt.”

You supposed, looking back, that it did seem like that was your end goal. But, of course, it had been nothing of the sort; you were just planning on going to eat yourself and thought that you might as well kill two birds with one stone. It was just your luck that he had twisted your words into such a request, though! How were you supposed to maneuver yourself out of this position? If you denied it furiously, then it would seem like you were just ashamed at getting caught, but if you didn’t say anything, then it would be akin to agreeing with his accusation.

There was only one way out of it, and even though you were usually opposed to lying, and even more opposed to bullying others, it was the only thing you could think of. So, bowing your head, you clasped your hands together in front of your heart.

“I’m sorry, but you’re not my type, Mr. Itoshi,” you said. “Like I said, you’re really not that handsome. Also, I’m into tall guys.”

That was how you found yourself sitting across from Sae Itoshi in a private booth at a fancy restaurant, your hands trembling as you read over the menu items and their associated prices.

“I’m in the mood for steak,” Sae said, stroking his chin and setting down his menu, interlacing his fingers and raising his eyebrows at you. “What about you?”

“Steak is a dinner item, don’t you think?” you said, your head spinning at the fact that he had picked the most expensive thing that was served at the entire establishment. “It’s lunchtime.”

“Steak it is,” you said with a faux smile. “As for me, I’ll just get crackers.”

“Crackers? What kind of lunch is that?” he said.

“An affordable one,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?” he said.

“Nothing!” you said. “It’s nothing. I just really like crackers.”

He gave you an odd look. “Alright.”

You waved the waiter over. He had been hovering around your table for the past few minutes, and as soon as he saw you beckoning him, he sprinted to your side, fumbling with his pen and notepad before reaching you and bowing.

“Sae Itoshi, sir! I’m sorry to interrupt your date, but I just wanted to say that I’m a huge fan of yours. If — if it’s not too much trouble, could I have your autograph?” he said.

Sae sighed, a long-suffering and irritable sigh. “Just take our order first. I’ll give it to you after we’ve eaten.”

“Oh, my apologies,” the waiter said. “What would you like?”

“I’ll have the steak, and I also want this sandwich, but omit the tomatoes, please,” he said, pointing at the menu items he wanted.

“Got it,” the waiter said. “What about you, miss?”

“Just the crackers,” you said. The waiter paused, but when you did not say anything more, he giggled nervously.

“Would you, uh, like some cheese with those?” he said.

“Nope,” you said. “I’m really the biggest fan of plain crackers. That’s all I want.”

“Sure, miss, if that’s what you’d like,” he said. “So, one steak, one sandwich, and a plate of crackers?”

“That’s right,” Sae said, hardly looking up from his phone when he did so. It was only once the waiter had run off to place your orders that he put the device away, resting his elbows against the table, setting his chin in his hands and giving you a bored look. “Why are you glaring at me?”

“Steak and a sandwich, really?” you said.

“A conversation with you was more than enough to increase my appetite,” he said. “Forget about that. This is the part where you ask me questions about myself and I pretend like I am interested enough to answer them.”

“Why would I do that?” you said, rolling your eyes at him. “Actually, I’m pretty sure your answer to that question will be something that makes me even more annoyed than I already am, so don’t bother. What’s your favorite movie?”

“You’re not going to ask me about soccer?” he said. “It’s Taxi Driver, by the way.”

“I don’t know that much about soccer, so what would I even ask? Based on what I’ve seen from the matches my brother and dad watch, it’s just a bunch of sweaty guys kicking around a ball and pretending like they’re dying whenever another player happens to look at them the wrong way,” you said. “Oh, actually, I am curious about that. How many of those injuries are real? Have you ever faked getting hurt?”

“Almost none of them,” he said. “Generally, players will overreact for the sake of entertainment and the possibility of the opposition receiving yellow cards. I’ve never needed to do anything like that, and I never want to, because it looks stupid. Also, soccer is more than that mediocre description you just gave me.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say,” you said. “Man kick ball. Ball go in net. Man happy. That’s the extent of it.”

“Women play soccer, too,” he said.

“It’s the same concept there, but with women instead of men. Not the argument you thought it was,” you said.

“I can’t believe you actually dislike soccer,” he said.

There was definitely some irony in the fact that you couldn’t care less about his chosen sport, and yet you were the one who had somehow finagled your way into eating with him — even if you were the one who was paying. There were so many people who’d do anything to be in your place, but to you, it was a begrudging chore that you were only performing because you felt obligated to. Mentally, you had already marked the entire encounter down as something that you’d laugh about to your friends later; a fun story you’d tell at parties, but little else.

“Like I told you earlier, I’m the older sister. If I didn’t rag on my brother’s interests, then I couldn’t claim that title in any way that mattered,” you said. Sae’s eyes flicked down to the ground.

“You should be nice to your brother when you can,” he said.

“Are you some kind of an only child or saint, then? There’s no way you’re saying that if you have a normal relationship with any possible siblings,” you said.

“I have a little brother,” he said. “Our relationship is okay. I haven’t seen him in a while, though.”

“Long distance?” you said, reaching over to pat him on the hand sympathetically. “That’s the worst. I miss my friends and my pets already, and I’m only here for vacation.”

He snatched his hand away. “You make it sound like we’re dating or something. It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be the same as it was whenever I go back.”

“True, it’s not like he can dump you and find a new brother who’s both better and more conveniently located than you are. He’s kind of stuck with you forever,” you said.

“Enough about my brother,” he said. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay,” you said. “What TV shows do you watch when you’re bored?”

The two of you continued on in that mindless manner until your food arrived. Your mood, which had steadily been rising as Sae proved himself to be, if nothing else, a willing conversationalist, rapidly plummeted as the waiter set the steak and sandwich in front of Sae and the crackers in front of you.

“Enjoy your meal,” the waiter said.

“I’m sure one of us will,” you said, picking up a cracker and biting into it rebelliously. Sae began to cut his steak into small pieces, using his fork to demurely place the meat on his tongue, doing nothing to disguise the indulgence of eating such a wonderfully prepared meal while you were stuck with crackers.

“What a shame,” Sae said when he was about halfway through his steak. You hadn’t spoken since the food had come, mostly because you were too busy fervently hoping that he would choke and you would somehow be awarded a free meal as an apology on the restaurant’s part, so you jumped at the sound of his voice cutting through the silence. “My eyes were bigger than my stomach. I don’t think I’ll be able to eat that sandwich after all.”

“We should send it back, then,” you said.

“What sort of place do you think this is?” he said. “It’s already been ordered, so it’s ours now.”

“Are you serious?” you said. “What now? I’ll have to pay for something that you didn’t even eat!”

“You’ll just have to have it,” he said.

“Me?” you said, already salivating at the delectable sandwich, the bread which was taunting you. Come, it seemed to be calling out to you. Eat me. You know you want to. “I guess that’s a sensible prospect. Someone’s going to have to take it.”

“Someone will,” he agreed, sliding the plate across the table and stealing a cracker for his troubles. “It might as well be you. My coach will be pretty upset if I get stomach cramps next season because I overate too much on my off time. I’d have to tell him that it was your fault, and then you’d have all of Re Al after you, and you don’t want that. They’re relentless.”

Your fingers inched towards the sandwich. “I definitely don’t. That sounds scary.”

“It would be amusing,” he said. “A waste of resources, though. They might cut my salary to make up for it. ”

“Then the only solution is for me to eat this sandwich,” you said.

“Essentially,” he said. You gave in, taking an enormous bite of the tantalizing sandwich and exhaling in delight. It really was as good as the exorbitant price tag claimed it would be, and although you would never buy such a thing for yourself, you found that you were a little more grateful for the series of events that had led you to be in this position now that your stomach was finally being greeted with something substantial.

“It’s good,” you said, your words muffled by the napkin you held in front of your mouth as you finished chewing. “I can kind of get why they charge so much now. It’s still way more than any sandwich should ever cost, ever, but…I kinda get it. Is your food good, too?”

“It is,” he said.

“Alright!” you said, giving him a double thumbs up. “Then you can consider this a worthy apology! Let’s finish eating and be done with the entire mess.”

“Hm? But how can it be a worthy apology when I’m the one who paid for everything? To me, that doesn’t sound like an apology at all,” he said. You froze, your mouth wide open, the sandwich still halfway to your mouth and drooping in your hands. Sae looked at you, still expressionless, though if you really focused, you would’ve noticed something like mirth dancing in his irises.

“What do you mean?” you said. He unlocked his phone and showed you his screen.

“You can pay by app here,” he said. “I did it as soon as we were done ordering. I was going to tell you after you ordered what you wanted for yourself, but I wasn’t expecting you to be so frugal that you’d really only order crackers!”

“But — but I was supposed to pay! To apologize for—”

“You don’t have to say it,” Sae said sourly, cutting you off. “Believe me, I remember exactly what you have to apologize for, and I’m not going to forget. I just paid this time because I was feeling generous, but you still owe me.”

It was a little suspicious, but you didn’t have any reason to accuse him of anything, so you only narrowed your eyes at him. Taking another bite of your sandwich, you mulled over the latest reveal. He was paying for the entire lunch? You still owed him? You could manipulate that in your favor, then.

“Tomorrow morning, I’ll pay for your breakfast,” you said. “The hotel I’m staying at has complimentary breakfast for guests, but outsiders can eat for a certain fee. I’ll pay for your entrance, and then we can be even.”

“Sure,” he said. “I eat breakfast early, though.”

“How early?” you said.

“I have a snack at 7:00 a.m., before I go for my morning run, and then I eat a proper meal afterwards,” he said.

“Oh!” you said. “Any chance you could not do that?”

“It’s part of my training regimen,” he said. “How about you pay for my food and come on my run with me?”

“I hate running,” you said.

“You’re apologizing. It’s supposed to be an agonizing process,” he said. “You’ve called me short and ugly at least three separate times already, not to mention the entire slamming into me ordeal. It’s really the least you can do.”

“7:00 it is,” you said, though you were fighting back tears at the mere thought of getting up so early while on vacation. “Give me your phone.”

“No way,” he said, holding the phone away from you while you tried to swipe at it. “What are you going to do, post something embarrassing on my social media accounts?”

“Why would I do that?” you said. “I was going to text myself so I had your number and could send you my location for tomorrow.”

“Or you could tell me which hotel you’re staying at now, and then my phone is entirely removed from the equation,” he suggested.

“Do you think I remember the name?” you said. “That’s a rhetorical question, by the way. I don’t.”

He handed you his phone with an aggravated huff. “Fine. Don’t abuse the privilege. I only give important people my contact information.”

“Woah, you really are stingy,” you said, scrolling through his contacts list. All of them either had the designation of work attached to their profiles, or they were clearly members of Sae’s family.

Clicking on the plus sign in the corner, you created a new contact for yourself, typing in your number and giving yourself the name Y/N L/N — sandwich. It fit the naming conventions he had going on, and if it weren’t for the reminder that you were the so-called ‘sandwich girl’, you doubted he would remember who you were in the first place.

“Of course I am. Imagine I gave every crazy fan I met my number. I’d have a million stalkers before you could say Re Al,”he said.

“I’m not a crazy fan. To clarify, I’m not a fan in the first place,” you said, texting yourself from his number before taking out your own phone and responding to the message with a thumbs up.

“Correct, which is why you get my number,” he said.

“I feel so honored,” you said dryly. “Actually, you know what? I would feel honored, if it weren’t for the fact that you’re only giving it to me because you want to wake me up at an unholy hour and make me run with you before paying for your breakfast.”

“Would you rather pay for this meal?” he said, showing you the receipt he had been emailed. Your eyes widened, and then you shook your head rapidly.

“Nope! See you tomorrow!”

The next morning, you tiptoed around the hotel room as you got ready, trying your best not to wake your mother up. She, and the rest of your family, had been up late last night, going out for dinner and dessert well past your bedtime. Far too embarrassed to tell them the realreason you were going to sleep early, you had said you were sick and went to bed as soon as the sun set.

Angrily gnawing on a granola bar from your mother’s emergency stash, you stomped down the spiraling hotel staircase, your eyes still bleary as you texted your family group chat that you were going out for a morning walk but would be back for breakfast.

Sae Itoshi was waiting for you in the lobby, doing some weird stretching routine that involved pressing his foot against the wall and leaning over it. You watched him, bemused, wondering which muscles he was trying to stretch before giving up and deciding it was probably one of those pro moves that you were too uninterested and unathletic for.

“Oh, you’re here,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” you said, giving him another one of the granola bars you had taken from your mother’s backpack. “Sorry, it’s sort of smushed. It’s been in a backpack for the last few days.”

He pinched the wrapper between his forefinger and thumb, looking at the granola bar with a disgusted expression. You didn’t think it was thategregious, but according to Sae, it must have been all but an offense against humanity, as he tossed it into the trash can within seconds of having it within his grasp.

“I already ate my snack,” he said.

“Why did you throw that away? I could’ve eaten it!” you said.

“That thing had probably melted and reformed at least twice. It was most definitely radioactive. I did you a favor, so you should say thank you,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Itoshi, for protecting me from the horrors of a slightly misshapen granola bar. I’m sure that, by throwing away that still edible brick of deliciousness, you have done me a great service. Possibly, you have even saved my life. I am eternally grateful,” you said.

He snorted. “You’re terrible at groveling. No wonder you have to do all of this ridiculous stuff to apologize to me instead of just saying sorry and moving on like a normal person.”

“Look, it’s a product of my upbringing,” you said. He finished stretching and headed out of the door; you followed after him with a smile at the hotel concierge, who seemed surprised to watch you go — whether it was the hour or your company, you weren’t sure. “Whenever my parents did something to upset me, they never apologized. They just came to my room with a bowl of fruit they had cut for me.”

“At least you got fruit,” he said. “My parents just told me to go practice soccer until I had cooled off.”

“Wow, really? That’s hardcore,” you said. Sae began to jog, and you did the same, though it was closer to a run for you than anything. “Did you just kick around the ball until you were less mad?”

“Pretty much,” he said.

“How horrible,” you said.

“Eh, it’s fine. It was a good way to get my anger out, and it had the added benefit of making me better at the sport, so it was pretty constructive overall,” he said.

“I still can’t imagine it,” you said, shaking your head. “What’s it like, being a professional athlete? Your entire life revolves around a game. What about when you can’t play anymore? When you’re too old, or if you get injured?”

His upper lip curled. “Do you want that to happen or something? Why are you speaking it into existence?”

“Not the injury part, but everyone grows old. You can’t stop that,” you said.

“I’ll play for as long as I can, and then I’ll coach for longer,” he said. “After that, I’ll retire and make sure my kids follow in my footsteps. Athletes make a lot of money, so I luckily won’t ever have to worry much about my finances.”

“What if your kids don’t want to play soccer?” you said. He actually sneered this time, the expression at home on his cold face.

“What else would they do with themselves? If they don’t want to play soccer, or if they have no talent at it, then they’re definitely not my children in the first place,” he said.

“Hm, maybe cooking? What if they want to be a chef?” you said.

“Then I’d wonder how your kids snuck into my house,” he said. You gasped, though it was as much for breath as it was out of offense.

“Stop it! You just happened to catch me at a hungry time!” you said.

“Sure,” he said.

“Just entertain the hypothetical that you really did somehow father children that were into cooking instead of soccer. How would you react?” you said.

“I would put them up for adoption,” he said.

“Seriously?” you said.

“No, obviously not,” he said. “What kind of person do you think I am? Why did you actually find that to be within the realm of possibility?”

“I think you’re some kind of soccer fiend. Who knows how dedicated you are to the cause?” you said.

“Not that dedicated,” he said. “I’d be disappointed if my kids can’t play soccer, and our relationship would probably be a bit distant, as I don’t know much about anything else, but I wouldn’t disown them.”

“You don’t know much about anything besides soccer? That’s a little sad,” you said.

“Kind of,” he said.

“Do you wish you knew about other things?” you said.

“Everyone has something they specialize in. It’s not uncommon for someone to know a lot about one thing and only a little about others,” he said. “My ‘thing’ is soccer. If it wasn’t that, then it’d be something else, so if I was in the business of wishing, I’d always be unsatisfied.”

“I get it,” you said. “You’ll face no judgment from me.”

“Like I would care if you did judge me,” he said. “You’re already dying, and we haven’t even started running yet.”

“This isn’t running?” you said. “What the hell? How much faster can you even go?”

“If you think that this is anywhere near the pace of an average soccer match, then I don’t even know where to begin with you,” he said.

“You look slower on TV!”

“What, so you think I’m slow, too?”

You and Sae returned to the hotel in markedly different conditions. He wasn’t even warm, still appearing to be perfectly put together and entirely perspiration-free, smelling faintly like body soap and cologne. On the other hand, you were still trying to regain your wits about you, leaning on his shoulder so that you did not fall over from exhaustion.

“This is embarrassing for you,” he informed you as you walked towards the breakfast area.

“You’re a professional athlete and I’m a normal girl! It would be embarrassing for you if I could keep up!” you argued weakly.

“That would be true, if I wasn’t going easy on you,” he said, pulling out a chair for you and helping you into it, brushing his arm off when he was sure you were seated. “I’m going to go to the bathroom. Be right back.”

“Have fun,” you said, resting your head in your hands, already knowing what you wanted to get. “We can walk through the buffet together. I’ll take the time to recover.”

“You do that,” he said.

While he was gone, you opened your phone, catching up on all of the texts in the family group chat that you hadn’t been able to read while you were attempting to run with Sae.

me: going for a morning walk but i’ll be back for breakfast

me: just wanted to let you all know so you weren’t worried!

uglier sibling: yeah nobody was worried LMFAO

mom: Hope you’re feeling better, honey!

dad: Make sure you’re back before 10. That’s when the complimentary breakfast ends, and we’re not paying for overpriced toast with jam.

uglier sibling: i still can’t believe u went for a morning walk

uglier sibling: like

uglier sibling: since when do u voluntarily wake up in the mornings at all let alone leave ur bed LET ALONE TAKE A WALK

uglier sibling: bitches will meet sae itoshi one time and suddenly they’re fitness influencers or wtvr

uglier sibling: btw i’m still mad that u didn’t get his autograph or a photo with him or anything

uglier sibling: i bet u made it up

uglier sibling: LIAR. FRAUD. HACK.

mom: Honey, leave your sister alone. Why would she make something like that up?

dad: Your mother is right. Y/N doesn’t even know who Sae Itoshi is.

So it was a typical conversation, then. You hadn’t missed much; just your brother being salty and your parents showing some care for your well-being, as well as your father worrying for his wallet like he was prone to do. You didn’t even bother responding, just liking your father’s two messages and then putting your phone away.

“Y/N, you’re back already? What good timing!” your father called out to you from the entrance to the hotel restaurant. The world slowed as you turned to see the rest of your family walking into the restaurant, dressed in their typical touristy outfits. Your mother waved at you, and your brother faked gagging.

“Wow, you look like shit,” he said. “The fuck kinda morning walk were you on?”

“Gross, it’s you,” you said. “Go away! I’m busy.”

“You don’t even have any food with you,” he pointed out. “Can I sit with you? The parents are way too chipper in the mornings.”

“No!” you said.

“But there’s an empty seat at your table. Are you saving it for someone?” he said.

“Yes,” you said, wishing that for once they would’ve all slept in instead of getting here at the exact time that you and Sae had.

“No, you’re not,” he said.

“Come on, you two, let’s sit together and have a family breakfast!” your father said, motioning you and your brother over from where he and your mother had settled at a four-person table. Your brother gave you a pleading look.

“I’ll owe you forever,” he said. “I’ll grind on all of your video games for you the entire plane ride home!”

“I’m not lying, dude, I actually am sitting with someone. Now fuck off and leave me alone!” you hissed.

“Who?” he said, crossing his arms. “Your imaginary friend? Or your imaginary boyfriend!”

“Excuse me? Sorry, I was sitting there. Do you mind—?”

The most comical expression you had ever seen flashed over your brother’s face just then. It was horror mixed with incredulity mixed with extreme confusion. He turned slowly, his jaw dropping as he made eye contact with Sae Itoshi, whose dry countenance and perfect posture were as off-putting as ever.

“What?” your brother said. “What is going on?”

Sae sat opposite you. “This hotel has the most confusing first floor layout I’ve ever encountered. It took me ages just to find the bathroom.”

“There’s signs. Can you not read?” you said. He stared at you dully.

“I can read. I just happened not to look up at them,” he said.

“If I didn’t want to pay for even more food, I’d make another short joke, but I shall refrain,” you said.

“That was cutting it close,” he said.

“Y/N. My beautiful, amazing, wonderful older sister,” your brother said.

“Yes?” you said, preparing yourself for the incoming explosion. “Also, that’s not what you were calling me in the group chat earlier, was it?”

“Is that Sae Itoshi?” he said.

“Liar, fraud, hack, was that what it was?” you said. “Run along, loser. Maybe if you were nicer to me, I’d let you sit with us.”

Your brother opened his mouth to argue, but then, like he had remembered he was standing in front of his idol, he hung his head and trudged off, scuffing his toes against the floor as he did and giving you a betrayed look over his shoulder.

“That’s your little brother?” Sae said.

“Yup,” you said. “Your self-proclaimed biggest fan.”

“And you made him go sit with your parents instead of talking to me? You’re super mean, big sister,” Sae said.

“He wouldn’t shut up if I let him stay here, and considering the goal of this is for you to eat and then leave me alone for the rest of my vacation, that would not be conducive,” you said.

“I see,” he said. “I didn’t realize that was the goal.”

“Isn’t it yours, as well? I’m sure you’d like to enjoy yourself on your time off from soccer,” you said.

“Who says I’m not enjoying myself?” he said. You furrowed your brow at him.

“You’ve had the same expression on your face every time we’ve spoken,” you pointed out, lowering your eyelids and pursing your lips in an imitation of his resting mien. “Like this. It’s totally amphibious.”

“Amphibious?” he repeated. “What does that even mean?”

“You don’t know what amphibious means? Man, when you said you only focused on soccer, I didn’t think it was this bad!” you said.

“I know what amphibious means! I just don’t see how the word applies,” he said.

“Oh, right. Well, you kind of look like the frog emoji,” you said. “Sorry, I could’ve been clearer. That’s my bad.”

“Were you dropped on the head as a baby? I’m asking this from a place of concern, not anger,” Sae said. “It’s because you say so many nonsensical things. After all, I look nothing like the frog emoji.”

“Sure, and people tell me I look like a famous actress,” you said.

“Really?” he said.

“No, I thought we were both saying things that aren’t true,” you said.

“I think you look like a famous actress,” he said. “There. Now we’re both saying things that are true.”

“Well done, Mr. Itoshi! That was clever,” you said, knowing when to concede.

“Thank you,” he said. “Let’s go get our food now. If you die of starvation on my watch, it’ll be a major scandal for Re Al.”

“Your manager must love you,” you said. “So conscientious of your public image.”

“Nope, he’s usually pretty pissed at me,” he said as the two of you got in the buffet line.

“What for?” you said.

“Contrary to what you think, I’m pretty unconcerned with my public image. I’m a soccer player, not some kind of philanthropist or actor or whatever,” he said. “What does it matter if I offend people? My value is in playing well, not being friendly or kind.”

“No one ever accused you of being either of those two,” you said, spreading butter and jam over your toast. “You’re not that bad, though.”

“You’re not that bad, either,” he said. “At least, you’re better company than my manager.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” you said. He scoffed.

“You have low standards,” he said.

“Yours are lower,” you said.

“Very mature response.”

“Thanks!”

Sae was a pretty agreeable breakfast partner. He wasn’t as impossibly cheerful as your parents, who generally drove you crazy with their talkativeness so early in the day, but he also wasn’t as silent and closed off as your brother, who was prone to snapping at others until he had finished at least half of his meal. As with lunch yesterday, it was almost an enjoyable experience, right up until you remembered whose card he was eating on.

“Where are you going?” he said when your plates had been cleared and you had pushed yourself to your feet. He followed after you as you made your way to the hostess’s station, ignoring the whispers that echoed behind the two of you.

“To pay for you to be here, duh,” you said, fishing around in your purse for your wallet. “I know you’re famous and all, but that doesn’t mean you get to eat for free. In fact, that was kind of the point of the meal.”

“I already paid for myself, so you can go and sit back down with your family if you’d like,” he said.

“What? When?” you said.

“I wouldn’t spend that long in a bathroom,” he said. “Not a public one.”

“You little—! Now what?” you said.

“Now you have to see me tomorrow,” he said. “Bye. I’ll pick you up for dinner, so make sure to wear something nice, and bring your credit card. It’s your treat.”

He walked off with a jaunty wave, leaving you standing there, confounded by the development. He had paid for himself again? What was the point of making you take him places if he was just going to cough up the cash himself anyways?

“Psst. Y/N,” your brother said. You weren’t sure when or where he had appeared, but it remained that he was suddenly tapping you on the shoulder and whispering in your ear. “Does Sae Itoshi have a crush on you? If so, please ask if he can get tickets for dad and I to attend his next game.”

“What?” you said, a shockwave running through your entire body at the mere thought of Sae having a crush on you. It was so juvenile and cliched as to be out of Sae’s character entirely. “No! I just owe him.”

“For what?” your brother said.

“I ran into him, called him ugly, and said that he was short,” you said. “Indirectly, of course, but it still happened. I was supposed to buy him lunch yesterday as an apology, but then he ended up paying for us both, and then today, I went on a run with him, and I was going to pay for him to have breakfast here, but guess what?”

“He paid for himself?” your brother said.

“He paid for — yeah, how did you know?” you said.

“There weren’t that many ways the story could’ve gone. Also, I overheard you guys talking,” he said.

“Creep,” you said.

“Weirdo,” he said.

“Freak,” you said.

“Stupid,” he said. “I bet he has a crush on you.”

“Why would he? We have zero common interests, and I’ve mostly only insulted him in our very short time knowing one another,” you said.

“Maybe he’s into that. Some guys are. My one friend is — actually, I’m not exposing him like that,” he said.

“Thank you, because I really didn’t want to know,” you said.

“Anyways, where I was going with that is some guys like girls who humble them a bit. Especially someone like Sae Itoshi; he’s probably so used to people falling all over themselves to get his attention that it’s nice for him to hang out with someone who’s too oblivious to care about that kind of stuff,” he said.

“People like you?” you said. “I told him you were his biggest fan, just so you know.”

“Why would you do that?” your brother said, his eyes bugging out and his mouth forming a pained grimace. “He probably thinks I’m a nerd now!”

“You do it to yourself, buddy,” you said. “Let’s go. It looks like the parents want us to go sit with them. Think you can handle it?”

“After learning that my hero has a crush on my sister and, furthermore, probably thinks of me as some kind of dweeb, I can handle anything,” he said.

The entire day, you pondered your brother’s words. Did Sae have a crush on you? Running through his actions and every conversation you both had ever had led you to think that he did not. It didn’t seem like he liked you very much in even a platonic sense, so how could anyone begin to think he liked you romantically? It was just tolerance for the sake of his pride, that was all.

And you definitely didn’t like him. He was emotionless and conceited and teased you far too often. What did it matter that he was somewhat attractive? He had a terrible personality, and you bet that if more of his fans knew what he was like, he wouldn’t have any to begin with.

No wonder Sae’s manager hated him. He was probably a jerk to his poor employees, too.

“We’re thinking of going here for dinner tonight,” your father said the next day. “Look, their reviews are pretty high, and their prices aren’t crazy. What does everyone think?”

“I’m fine with anything,” your mother said.

“Same here,” your brother said.

“Y/N?” your father said. You were about to respond when your own phone buzzed. You knew exactly who it was texting you, and you sighed as you opened it.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I will be there in one hour.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): You better not have forgotten about our plans for tonight.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): I made a reservation, so I’ll really be mad if you stand me up.

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Especially because you’re paying.

me: I WILL BE THERE OMFG STOP TEXTING ME

sae itoshi (dumb haircut): Okay.

“I can’t,” you said.

“Why not? Are you on some new diet or something? They should have vegetarian options, so that won’t be a problem,” your father said. “We can look at their menu beforehand if you prefer, and if you really don’t like anything, then we can find somewhere else.”

“I already have plans,” you said, your lower lip jutting out childishly. “Not that I want to! But I made a promise.”

“You already have plans? What’s that supposed to mean?” your mother said.

“I’m having dinner with someone,” you said.

“Ooh, how exciting! With who?” she said.

“I bet I can guess!” your brother sang.

“Enough out of you!” you said, kicking him in the back of the leg. He doubled over, though that did not stop him from smirking at you.

“Y/N and Sae, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” he said.

“You’re going out with Sae Itoshi?” your father said. “You should’ve just said so! That’s perfectly alright, honey. Actually, he’s the one man I’m not upset about you dating!”

“We are not dating!” you said. “It’s a more transactional relationship than that. No feelings involved. It’s just me apologizing to him.”

“Are you close enough to him to get an autograph for your brother and I?” your dad said.

“Um.” You thought about it. Would Sae give you an autograph for them? You weren’t sure. There was a chance he would, but there was also a high chance he would not. “I dunno. I can ask.”

“You’ll ask for dad, but not for me? Wow, I see how it is,” your brother said.

“Yeah, because you’re annoying!” you said. “Ugh. I have to get ready now. He’ll be here to get me in an hour. Have fun at dinner, all of you. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers.”

“You have fun as well,” your mother said. “Make sure not to bring any money with you. Gentlemen should always pay on the first date.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that,” you said, giving up on explaining things to your family for the sake of your sanity.

Sae was aggressively punctual. Exactly an hour after he had texted you, a shiny black car was pulling up in the valet lane, and a tall, bald man in a suit was opening the door for you. You climbed in awkwardly, finding Sae to be sitting on the other side, gazing out of the window pensively.

“Hello,” you said, smoothing your dress and buckling your seatbelt. “You have a driver?”

“Of course I do,” he said. “I usually walk places when I’m on vacation, but this restaurant is kind of far, so I thought it’d be more prudent to have the driver take us.”

“I see,” you said. “Thank you, driver, sir.”

The driver hummed in acknowledgement but did not say anything else. You supposed he probably wasn’t used to talking with his passengers; you doubted Sae ever spoke to him much.

“It’s been so hot out recently,” Sae said stiffly.

“That’s what happens during the summer, yes,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said.

“You’re right, though,” you said. “It has been hot.”

“Super hot,” he said.

“Yes,” you said. “Super hot.”

That must’ve been why there was a slight redness to his cheeks. There was definitely no other reason. And there wasn’t any other reason for why you felt uncomfortably warm, shifting in your seat to dissipate the feeling in your stomach. It was the temperature. That was all.

Given the trend, you really should have anticipated it when Sae paid for your dinner while you were freshening up in the bathroom, but you really had not seen it coming in the slightest. He scrunched up his face when you argued, simply telling you that he would see you tomorrow before dropping you back off at your hotel, the receipt in your hand, his flourishing signature scrawled across the back.

“For your brother,” he had said, handing it to you before you could even ask him for his autograph. “You said he was a fan, right? I’ll get him a better one later, but for now, this should do.”

You spent every day of the rest of that vacation with Sae Itoshi. Some days, you would accompany him on a morning walk — he had softened to slowing his pace, so that he was only barely jogging instead of the full on run that he had forced you into that first time — and on others, the two of you would have some meal or another together. The common theme was that, if there was money involved, he would take care of it. Without question, without hesitation, he always slapped your hand back and pulled out his own credit card, telling you that now you both had to meet again, and the next time you really would be the one paying, or else he’d never be able to forgive you for your terrible behavior.

Your parents and brother complained about it at first, as your new friendship with Sae — could it be considered a friendship, or was it something else? — meant you did not see them much on what was supposed to be a family vacation.

You brought it up with Sae, and he responded with something about how it wouldn’t have been a problem at all if you weren’t such a freeloader and actually paid for him, like you were supposed to. This resulted in a lighthearted squabble between you both, which in turn made you forget your family’s whining, and as well you should have. You could take a million more vacations with them, but you’d likely never get a chance to hang out with Sae Itoshi again, so why wouldn’t you take advantage of it when you could?

Sae didn’t forget, though. He sent you back from dinner the next evening with a soccer ball he had won in one of his games, his signature and a note of gratitude scribbled on it in black marker.

Thank you for letting me borrow your daughter and sister from you while you’re on your trip. I really appreciate it, even if she doesn’t know anything about soccer. — Sae Itoshi

They stopped complaining after that. The ball became your brother’s most prized possession, and every day, your father would tell you how happy he was that you had made such a considerate friend.

“And you know, if you ever want to date him,” he’d say, elbowing you in the side with an obnoxious wink. “We wouldn’t be opposed!”

Your mother was in the same boat. “He really cares about you, I think. Enough that he gave your family something so precious just because he thought we didn’t like him. You could do a lot worse than that.”

“Plus, he’s rich and famous!” your brother would chime in without fail. “Double win!”

“You guys are all nuts,” you’d tell them, shaking your head to disguise how pleased the thought of dating Sae made you.

It could never happen. Like your brother was so happy to remind you, he was rich and famous, an athlete that was adored worldwide and played for the best soccer club in history. He could have any girl he wanted, so why would he ever choose you? You and he were from two different planes of existence. Maybe you could pretend for a little bit that you weren’t, but the date for your eventual departure from Spain was drawing closer and closer, and that day meant the certain end of the fever dream that was your closeness with Sae.

You had been prepared from the start for it to finish in this way. You would go home and tell all of your friends about your trip, how you had spent almost every day with the famous soccer player Sae Itoshi, how he had given you his phone number and made you go on runs with him, how together, you and him had eaten lunch and dinner and breakfast and several meals that you were convinced he had just made up to have an excuse to buy food for the two of you — brunch, linner, midnight snacks and third desserts.

There were other things that you wouldn’t tell them, too, things that Sae had not necessarily said to you in confidence but which you sensed were held close to his heart and which you would therefore hold close to yours. His little brother was named Rin, and they had the same eyes, though Rin’s were quicker to water and perpetually had hair falling into them. He still watched the same shows he used to when he was very small, because they reminded him of his parents’ home. He thought that a person’s athletic potential could be determined by the shape of their butt, but he tended to avoid looking as a form of respect for others.

“That’s a pretty cool skill, Sae! What do you think my athletic potential is?” you had asked when he had revealed that last fact.

“If it’s possible for a person to have negative potential, then that’s about what yours is. If it’s not, then you’re definitely at a zero,” he had responded.

“You didn’t even look,” you had said, shoving a French fry into his mouth as punishment. He hated French fries for how unhealthy they were, and you had half-expected him to lecture you about fats and oils and salts, but instead, he had dutifully chewed and swallowed without any theatrics.

“Don’t need to, and don’t plan to,” he had said, and that was that. “I’ve already seen you run, and that told me all I needed to know about your athletic skills. Or, in this case, your lack thereof.”

If you took his words at face value, then you would’ve thought he truly hated you. He never missed a chance to make fun of you, and you were the same way — certainly, anyone who overheard your conversations would’ve been convinced that you and he were bitter enemies. But that was because they didn’t see the way he always positioned himself on the sidewalk so that he was between you and the oncoming traffic. They didn’t see the way he’d pull out your chair and only pretend to frown when you’d thank him for it. They didn’t see the way his ears would turn pink if you dared to smile in his direction or, heaven forbid, agreed with what he was saying instead of arguing, as was your go-to.

No, you were pretty confident that Sae Itoshi did not hate you. It was just that soccer was his thing and all other areas were beyond him, areas which included such fields as emotional awareness and sensitivity.

Maybe you might tell the friends you were particularly close to about that. Sae Itoshi treated me pretty well, you’d say, with grand, sweeping hand motions to emphasize the point. As well as he knew how to, which was well enough for me. If I ever get a boyfriend, they’ll have a lot to live up to. Seems kind of unfair to whatever poor schmuck gets stuck with the task, don’t you think? Considering the two of us never even dated…

“I'm going home tomorrow morning,” you said. The sun was setting, and the two of you were walking along the same stretch of beach that you had first met at. “I finished packing all of my things before dinner. It’s surreal, almost. I feel like an entirely different person now, compared to when I came here.”

“Is that so?” he said, the corners of his lips twitching slightly. “I wonder why.”

“Did you just smile?” you said. Immediately, he scowled.

“No way,” he said. “I’d never smile because of something you said.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, you definitely smiled. I made you smile! I made you smile! I made you smile!” you said, poking him in the cheek repeatedly. Sae’s expressions were so subtle that it was easy to overlook them before they had vanished, but there was no overlooking what you had just seen. He had definitely smiled at you, or at least he had been about to.

“Stop poking me,” he grumbled.

“No,” you said, poking him again. “Only if you smile again.”

“Hell no,” he said. You poked his cheek again. “Y/N. Stop it.”

“Will you miss me?” you said.

“Not if you don’t quit that!” he said, grabbing your wrist when you prepared to poke him again. Heat rose to your cheeks at the way his thumb rested against your pulse, and when he realized he was holding your hand so familiarly, his own cheeks flushed. “No. I won’t.”

“I’ll miss you,” you said, digging your feet into the sand, turning out to the sea because you couldn’t stand to look at him when you were being so vulnerable. “I’ll tell everyone I know about you, of course, but it won’t be the same. Something funny will happen, and I’ll think to myself, oh, Sae would’ve snorted at that — but not laughed, because you don’t laugh. Or I’ll order shitty French fries, and it’ll remind me of how much you’d scold me for eating them. You’d say something like, those are basically heart attacks in a box, and then you’d pour a bottle of salted kombucha down my throat to cleanse my system.”

Somewhere in the distance, a seagull squawked, reminding you of the fateful encounter from so long ago. You wished you could go back and get to know Sae all over again. You wished you could ask him the same questions and not know the answers, so that you were surprised when he told them to you. You wished you could argue with him for a little bit longer. You wished that, one more time, you could imply he was short and ugly and slow and a thousand other rude adjectives, even if he was really none of those things, none of them at all.

“I’m going to ask you one last question, okay?” you said. “Please think over your answer carefully. It’s important.”

“Okay,” he said, uncharacteristically gently. “I’ll really consider it well.”

“What’s your favorite animal?” you said.

“Seagulls,” he said immediately, directly contradicting his solemn oath. You laughed at this, burying your face in your hands to hide the hitch in your throat.

“You traitor,” you said. “You know all about the feud between seagulls and I, and yet you’re still claiming they’re your favorites?”

“They always have been,” he said. “I like migratory birds, how they don’t stay in one place but are always moving around. It must be such a blissful life.”

“But it’s probably pretty lonely, too,” you said. “They don’t have anywhere to call home.”

“I like lonely things,” he said. “That’s why the end of the summer is my favorite season.”

“Hm,” you said. “Then, if I tell you that I’ll be lonely once I leave here, will you like me, too?”

He looked at you, but you stared resolutely ahead, your gaze trained on the horizon, the way his had been on the day you had run into him. It was such a kiddish question, and internally, you were beating yourself up for asking it, but deep down, you wanted to know, so you did not move to retract it.

“Well, I like seagulls for a different reason now,” he said.

So that was your answer, then. The waves crashed against the shore, and a balmy wind blew through your hair and clothes, carrying the light scent of Sae’s cologne to your nose, the same one he had worn for as long as you could remember.

“I understand,” you said.

“These days, it’s a specific seagull I’m fond of, actually,” he said.

“Huh? Like a breed or something?” you said.

“No, just one bird in particular,” he said. “It did me a really huge favor recently.”

“What are you talking about? You always say that you suspect I was dropped on the head as a baby, but between the two of us, I think the one that was dropped was you,” you said, the fraying ends of your rejected feelings driving you to irascibility.

“A while ago, I was standing on the beach, feeling pretty annoyed with the world — as usual,” he said. “I had had to run from the paparazzi in order to go on this vacation without being bothered, you know, and I honestly was starting to question if I’d ever be seen as a normal person. I get that the only thing I’m good at is soccer, but it’s pretty tiring to be thought of as a guy who kicks balls around and nothing more.”

Unbidden, you inhaled sharply, because the story was starting to sound familiar. Spinning on your heel, you were met with the sight of Sae smiling shyly, peering down at you through his unfairly long eyelashes.

“That seagull must’ve known how I was feeling. There’s no other explanation for it all. It must’ve known how I was feeling, and somehow, it managed to find the one person in the entire world that saw me as something other than that. Do you know what it did next? It stole that person’s sandwich, and it led her right to me,” he said.

“Are you talking about me?” you said.

“How many people do you think have called me a short, ugly, D-list celebrity instead of asking for my autograph upon meeting me?” he said.

“Probably not very many,” you said. He chuckled.

“Probably not any,” he said. You rested your forehead against his shoulder.

“Probably not,” you said. He stroked your hair, though his motions were like a marionette’s — he was not very used to this type of relationship, after all. But he was trying his best, and you found that to be far more endearing than any suave gestures might’ve been.

“I know you have to go soon, so I was planning on not saying anything,” he said. “What would be the point? I figured this was just a summer fling for you. But then you had to go and be all sentimental, and I had to say something.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said. “It would’ve been worse if I had returned home without knowing at all. Where do we go from here, though?”

“Where do we go from here? Let me think. Well, I’ll ask you to be my girlfriend,” he said. “And you’ll say yes, because who would ever reject me? Then we’ll talk on the phone every day, and you can send me photos of things you find funny, and I’ll have a sixth sense for when you’re eating French fries and I’ll send you strongly worded texts in reprimand. You’ll fly over to watch my matches whenever possible, and when I’m on my next break, I’ll come visit you and meet your family and friends properly.”

“Getting a little presumptuous, aren’t we? What if I say no?” you said.

“Will you?” he said.

“Not sure. How about you ask and find out?” you said.

“If you’re going to say no, then I don’t want to,” he said. You stuck your tongue out at him.

“I can’t be with a man who’s afraid of rejection. It was nice knowing you, Sae,” you said. “See you around. Hope you lose the Champions League.”

“Wait! I’m not afraid of rejection,” he said. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? Officially, I mean.”

“Yes, of course,” you said. “But you’re going to have to buy my plane tickets if you want me to watch you. Even with frequent flier miles, I doubt I can afford coming to see you that often.”

“Consider it done,” he said. You grinned at him.

“You know, if you’re my boyfriend, then you’re going to have to keep paying for our dates, as well. My mother said that’s the gentlemanly thing for you to do,” you said.

“Right, I was expecting that,” he said. “Don’t you think there’s a reason why I haven’t let you buy anything yet?”

“Then how am I ever supposed to apologize to you for the circumstances of our first meeting? I mean, I was pretty harsh,” you said.

“That’s true,” he said. “Let me think.”

“Mhm,” you said. “I know that that’s out of your comfort zone, so I’ll give you a minute.”

“I have an idea,” he said, though it was accompanied by a slight glare at your jab.

“What is it?” you said.

“Close your eyes,” he said. You obliged, squeezing them shut, though not without widening your feet into the defensive stance he had demonstrated to you on the day he had attempted to teach you basic soccer skills.

“What are you going to do, tackle me or something? I’m using the position you taught me, but please be gentle, you’re way more muscular than—!”

You were cut off by him pressing his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, gentle and light, like feathers in the air or water against the sand, and he pulled away before you could really react or reciprocate. He had left you wanting, and you knew he knew that, because there was a smugness to his voice when he spoke next.

“Apology accepted,” he said as you blinked at him in shock, your mind still lagging well behind your body. “Now we’re even.”

“Hold on,” you said. “I’m suddenly feeling very repentant and remorseful. Are you quite sure you forgive me with just that?”

He laughed. It was such a lovely sound, his laugh, and you would’ve told him so if you weren’t afraid that he’d stop when you pointed it out.

“Maybe not,” he said. “You might have to apologize a bit more.”

“That sounds doable,” you said. “Yeah, I might be able to work that in. It’ll be agonizing, but a wise man once told me that that’s just the nature of apologizing, so it’s the least I can do, right?”

“Oh, shut up,” he said, holding your face in his hands and leaning in. You did the same, your eyes closing all on their own as you sought out the connection he had deprived you of earlier.

As the sun set over the horizon and the seagulls settled in for the night, he kissed you again.

#AAAAA i was soso excited to get my mitts on this when i first saw it #next is your mydei fic ( ◡̀ . ◡́)ᕤ #☆ recs #sae #bllk

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loudclan-clangen · 12 hours ago

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What was Dancesun’s mark for? I remember Dogwoodmoth’s markings all had meanings and now I’m curious

~~also poor Siltsplash holy your expressionwork in this one is so good~~

Owlstar may or may not have taken some... creative liberties with Dancesun's warrior ceremony.

What Wildfirecry tried to say: I am frusterated that you feel you have the right to throw your weight around as the healer heir seeing as you haven't put the work in to earn that position.

What Rosehiptree heard: You are not living up to the memory of your sister.

Excellent image. Please accept this photo of my pomeranian wrapped in a towel as payment.

It's certainly possible, especially if that's something that the majority of people want to see, I only hesitate because I know it can be really hard for some people (me) to not peek at a family tree if I know it exists, even if I don't really want to know about the spoilers. Plus I do really enjoy surprises and plot twists and that can be difficult when yall know exactly who makes it to adulthood and who they're going to have kits with. But, yall know yourselves best, and if you would enjoy the story more with the knowledge of who inherits leadership positions let me know and I'll add "giant inheritance family tree" to my to-do-list!

Absolutely! Go nuts! And when possible tag me in it so that I can see the amazing things that you create!

Thank you! I use my Ipad and Procreate almost exclusively. I think it's the perfect balance of having all of the tools that you need while not being completely overwhelming to learn. (Though due to the simplified interface some functions can seem hidden, which I know frusterates some people but I've never run into an issue that can't be fixed with a quick google search). It's a one time purchase which I really appreciate, and I think that the $12 is completely justifiable especially compared to how much I used to spend on physical sketchbooks and pencils/markers/paints. Though if you're just starting out and aren't sure if digital art is for you IbisPaintX has pretty much all of the same tools for free (with adds) it's just a lot less convient to navigate and use. (Absolutely no hate to Ibis I LIVED for it back in highschool and I'm very glad that it's still there as a free option but if you're thinking about paying for the membership I would recommend just making the leap to a more cohesive app instead.) Of course, this is all coming from the perspective of someone who is completely petrified by the Clip Studio/Fire Alpaca type interface, so take everything I say with the knowledge that I have a major bias against them.

#loudclanasks #clangen

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genomesoldier · 2 days ago

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Vaguely x reader survivor headcanon thing good lord

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Hi! I wrote these almost three months ago hoping I would be able to write for all of the games' cast. Unfortunately, I've since fallen out of Forsaken in lieu of the game practically exploding in popularity. I will give what I had written, though! Hopefully someone out there likes this. These will be a mix of general headcanons + more affectionate ones. They may be out of character because they were written such a long time ago.

All writing is below the cut. :)

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Noob

Noob is a quiet, polite soul; naturally reserved and even closed off. They fear being a burden, seeking out comfort in the little things and the small variables they can control.

Noob is someone who takes a long time to truly open up about themselves. Whatever happened between Guest 666 and them left a deep, lasting impression: their devotion and trust is something hard-earned.

Now, that is a high hurdle to leap; but once it is managed, Noob is an utter sweetheart. They strongly value physical touch and affection, finding grounding and security in hand-holding or a strong hug. The ability to make them feel secure and safe is a huge deal, especially with them.

Noob has a lesser-known, more expressive side to them; being a sillier, more teasing individual beneath the skittish surface. This half is often obscured by insecurities.

They love to share their snacks! They do not taste as good here as they do at home, but they hope the thought is what counts.

They had spent a lot of time fretting up to this point: their worth, their usefulness to their fellow survivors… they struggled at a point to believe that people did not secretly find them bothersome or dead weight. Being able to open up is nothing but a boon to their emotional health. They feel braver with someone that they can trust to have their back.

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Elliot

Elliot is a hard-working, (generally) polite person. This isn’t to say he has any lack of sass… that smile of his is practiced.

While he strives to make his work/team environment comfortable for everyone, he will not hide his feelings off the clock. (007 and him are noted to have a particularly rocky relationship.)

Elliot has spent much of his working life in a service position; and so his patience is immense. That is to say anyone who is treating him with decency is good in his books.

Elliot does not have much of a social life; his job was his priority. That is to say he has a lot to talk about. (Plenty of customer horror stories to tell, for sure.)

Elliot did not realize how good it was to vent his feelings—to just sit down and talk—until someone finally gave him the room to speak about himself. He is used to being the person people talk at, rather than the one doing the talking.

Elliot often puts others above himself: not because of others expectations, but rather his own. Elliot’s own exhaustion and stress is often being put aside for what he deems more important or immediate, and puts a lot of pride in being “self-made.” He often forgets to rest and needs to be reminded to slow down sometimes due to this.

Elliot is big on words of affirmation, and knows how to make people feel better or ease stress. He’s eloquent or even flowery if he’s trying to be charming, if not slightly cheesy.

Elliot appreciates quality time, too. Everything around him (including himself) always seems to be moving so fast. Having someone to just be there, a constant in what is otherwise a hectic situation, eases his frayed nerves.

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Two-Time

Two-Time is a flawed individual. A slightly(?) delusional cultist, who clearly has things to hide.

Two-Time comes off as reckless and low-empathy. They have issues to sort out clearly, but they do have some heart.

Most of the things they do are things they believe are for the greater good (even if they may not really be).

...So, someone who doesn’t treat them like a shadow—who well and truly listens to their eccentricity, authentically—is someone that would have them fascinated.

They are a lonely and strange person. Someone even remotely accompanying makes them happier than they may first realize. Company is often taken for granted, but Two-Time is intimately acquainted with isolation.

Two-Time takes much solace in having someone merely be there, to talk to them. Someone who understands or at least listens is a reprieve and reminder that there are still good things to be had, though they may not understand why (or if) they deserve it.

...Azure had not only been their partner, but their best friend. They made their decision a long time ago, but to say they feel no nostalgia or guilt (though they have likely deluded themself into thinking it to be for the greater good) would be foolish.

They will stick their neck out for people with little hesitation under the firm belief that they will come back: “shadows die twice,” as they like to say. Something especially true for someone who they feel they can rely on. To boot, Two-Time is a rather impulsive person who often leaps before they look. They bleed, but it will surely be fine—they will wake right back up again--their faith in the Spawn heaves them upwards.

They are Incredibly perceptive yet simultaneously dense. They can spot when someone is troubled, but may be invasive with their questioning. It is almost frightening how easily they can pin a persons feelings down.

Two-Time values quality time and actions: There will be a hundred little things that they may wish they had done one day… or things they may regret having done.

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Chance

This man has secrets in spades. A liar almost compulsively, a charmer to boot. The charm is natural, however. Chance proves to be quite the people-person, and surprisingly non-judgmental.

It is of little surprise how much of Chance is fabricated however; either to impress others or simply pull the wool over people’s eyes to whatever truths he may be trying to hide.

Much of his positivity is natural! Chance is a person willing to see the good in bad situations. An equal half of that positive attitude however is used to shovel away his actual problems that need addressing. Most issues are contributed by him to bad luck more than anything. (He is a rather superstitious individual, to note.)

...The effort required to get him to lay down his walls is immense; a slow chip-away to reveal someone more authentic beneath the surface-level nonchalance.

He may be rather dense at times as a consequence of this, failing to see the bigger issue (whether in a situation or even with himself) in exchange for brushing it all off.

Chance tends to act like a "hotshot" for people he wants to impress, and sometimes him looking cool is entirely accidental. Lucky him! Respectfully, he is a little stupid at times, but he means perfectly well.

Chance values gift-giving quite a bit. He is more observant than he lets on! He might not look it, but he remembers the little things. There is consideration in the things he gives, and it shows.

As someone with money to spare, he's prone to splurging for people he cares about. He may be a bit of an impulse buyer; at least when it comes to buying other people nice things.

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007n7

007n7 is a troubled individual, with an even more troubled past. In lieu of all the hardships he's dealt with, he's... handling everything the best that he possibly can.

In his younger days, 007n7 was quite the menace--outgoing, even reckless--though nowadays he is rather reserved and even occasionally pleasant to be around... if anyone can even find him to talk to him at all. (Not even to mention that's if anyone would want to speak with him to begin with.)

007n7 has become a bit of a hermit, being both closed off and slippery: in that he seemingly blends in with crowds on purpose if only to escape any modicum of attention.

Oftentimes 007n7 is lost in his own inner world. He is a chronic daydreamer, though not outwardly emotive in reaction to whatever he may be thinking about. He has mastered his poker face at this point, a blank slate that is extremely difficult to read, and he does not plan on letting anyone in anytime soon.

007n7 deals with a fair bit of self-loathing for a variety of reasons. He pins a lot of the blame on himself for losing his son; he had at one point made Elliot's work life practically a living hell; and he had drawn plenty of ire from administrators for his shenanigans. He would not and does not blame anyone for disliking him, and tries to keep himself out of everyone's business if only not to raise their ire or bother them. He is both isolated and self-isolating, to say.

...So, he would be an extremely difficult person to crack. 007n7 would take a long time to open up, let alone hold a conversation. He's rather prone to drifting off into his own thoughts, and it is safe to say he has not had a "real" conversation with someone in a long time.

Having someone snap him out of his zone-outs and drag him into reality, instead of hearing conversations manufactured inside his own head? The notion is surprising to him. Yet, with consistency, 007n7 proves to have a lot to talk about. Most of his past is unpleasant to him, but he is highly prone to reminiscing nonetheless. There is a lot of remorse and regret involved, but that does not mean his past was devoid of any kind of fun--especially not in the moment. 007n7 may hesitate to admit he had a good time out of a mix of shame and a fear of judgement.

Someone to talk to is a small miracle to him in of itself. Someone who won't judge him is even bigger. Someone to ground him in the "now" of things, rather than constantly reminiscing on what had and could have been, was something he did not know he needed so badly. 007n7 is not one to smile much anymore, let alone wear his feelings on his sleeve, but his smiles are subdued and soft and meaningful. Maybe there is still value to be had in the present...

007n7 is not very good with his words, so he tries to convey himself with his actions. No amount of apologies could undo the past, and he has long since lost the words. He understands acutely what it is like to have no one to lean on but yourself, if even that. So the least he can do is be there when no one was there for him. It is surprising how ever-present he seems to be, following like a shadow and appearing when he is needed the most.

#homicidalporkchops #roblox x reader #Forsaken x reader #roblox forsaken #Noob x reader #Elliot x reader #Two-Time x reader #Chance x reader #007n7 x reader #I am going to explode #You can tell who the favorites are right

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thatssofruity9 · 16 hours ago

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John finally gets the bird he’s been watching

Cw: sex, implied sadist John, mostly just smut with little plot.

F!reader X John price

Zero self preservation, this girl.

John noticed it quickly, the way she was completely unaware of her surroundings, the way she smiled and apologized to each and every man that “accidentally” touched her, the way she politely chatted to blokes at the bar all while completely oblivious to their unmistakable advances. All sunshine and smiles, it makes him watch her closely, it’s intrigue maybe.

John is not a man most people would consider comfortable, he doesn’t care much for social graces, stands too close, stares too hard. He’s just not exactly the soft loving type that little thing probably needs. This fact doesn’t stop him though. She doesn’t stop him either.

She doesn’t seem to mind when his hand runs up her side while he’s talking to her, doesn’t seem to understand what is going on when he buys her drink after drink. This happens every weekend, she and her friends are here every Saturday at exactly 8 p.m. He’s got it down to a science at this point.

John has always been methodical about it. He wants that stupid girl, sure. But he wants it to stick, wants her to stay.

“What do ya want today, bird?”

He hums easing himself down onto the stool next to her, her friends have long disappeared like usual.

“Better friends.” John doesn’t miss the way she grumbled, the sour little expression on her face. They’ve always been such awful friends, he can tell but that’s okay birdie he can make it better.

“Mhm, be better off without 'em.” John rumbled out in response. He watched her, her sweet expression, the little half smile. Sweet, pretty thing.

“Yeah maybe.” She sighed but smiled at him, they’re friends. Or at least friends until he can get what he wants without spooking her.

“Well, you got me.” A smile fell over his face, meant to ease her, we are friends, bird, don’t worry. His hand softly eased up her back, she didn’t react, never does.

“I don’t even actually know you.” A little giggle followed her statement, she has a good point but that’s okay sweetheart that can be rectified.

“Mmhm and what would you like to know about me, little girl?” He watched in amusement as the blush crept onto her cheeks due to the little nickname, god she’s fucking cute. The conversation lasted all evening, hours longer than John would usually spend in this shit bar. Slowly her friends started leaving, going home with strangers like usual. She thankfully didn’t seem to mind all that much, her poor excuse for friends not putting a damper on their conversation.

Months John had been working on this sweetheart, talking, smiling, doing his best to stay respectful and friendly but today was different, it was time.

“Alright, we’ve had bout enough I think, we’re going, love.”

A frown followed by a confused eyebrow raise “Um…together?” She mumbled, sweet thing.

“Yeah bird, together. You’ve had a lot to drink, your friends are nowhere in sight and I’m not letting you find your way back home alone. You can sleep it off at mine.” John began getting up, grabbing his jacket with a small smile, an attempt to make his demand as nonthreatening as possible. To his delight she didn’t argue, didn’t even say another word, just got up and followed him. One day he’ll have to give her a lecture about trusting strangers but not tonight.

The walk back to his was quiet and peaceful. Just John leading his wife Bird to his house. She just followed him like the good girl he always knew she was. Not a single instinct to tell her she’s prey caught in a cage.

As soon as he shut the door behind them he made sure she was comfortable, sitting her on the couch, helping her unbuckle the strap on her shoe. God even her feet are pretty and John hates feet.

“Good princess?”

A little nod followed by a sleepy yawn, he couldn’t help the way his chest got tighter, she was perfect, adorable.

“Yeah? Do you need a shower? might sober you up a bit.” He hummed softly still squatting in front of where that beautiful creature sat on his couch.

“Uh…yeah if you don’t mind.” Her sweet voice muttered out. John only laughed a little placing a hand on her thigh.

“Of course not, love.” He led her through the house, into his bedroom, to the bathroom, showed her where all the things you’d need for a shower were kept, showed her where the towels were, grabbed her a t-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants she would no doubt be absolutely swimming in.

“Just yell if you need anything.” He had half a mind to just get in with her, to touch her, to taste her, to watch the way her body moves under the water but he didn’t. He’s trying probably harder than he ever had in his life to be a gentleman.

She nodded, and he left the room. He was antsy for some reason, he sat in the living room for the duration of her shower, trying to focus on either his cigar or the Telly but he couldn’t shake the thought of the sweet, naked woman just one room over.

When she emerged from the bedroom he realized for the first time that he might be actually getting old, worried for a small moment if he would have a heart attack. Makeup all washed away, hair still wet from the shower, sleepy expression. “Hi beautiful” There is no possible way at this point that she doesn’t realize he is flirting with her he has been flirting with her for months.

“Hi” soft, quiet. He watched her little feet hit the carpet, walking towards the couch, he almost let her but no, no this was his bird in his house and she was going to find out what happens when you let the older man at the bar take you home.

“C’mer bird.” It’s a demand though not an unkind one. She stops, turns, and hesitates for a moment before walking over to his recliner. John stubs out his cigar on the ashtray next to his chair and reaches his hands out to grab her, pulling her into his lap.

She gasps a little but overall doesn’t seem uncomfortable, he wants her to behave, listen, and be a good girl for him but he wants her comfortable enough to stick around after he has his way with her. “Bird, do you know what I want from you?” There is certainly no way she did not completely anyway.

“Um…yes.” Her answer sounded more like a question rather than a statement, it was cute and shy.

“You gonna give it to me?” He asked putting her back farther against his chest, resting his hand on her clothed thigh. He could feel the way her chest rose a fell heavier than normal.

She only nodded, that was all the permission he needed before his hand grabbed her chin, turning it to face him. He let his lips brush hers softly, doing his absolute best to control himself. John was not a man who regularly allowed himself things like this, he was too busy, and he had too many important things to think about, but this girl was his reward, she may not know it yet, but she was going to give him lots of things he hasn’t let himself have up until this point.

He felt like he was on cloud nine with her lips pressed against his. He didn’t waste much time getting her into his bed, she was visibly nervous, but that was nothing he couldn’t rectify.

He was on top of her, his mouth tasting hers, kissing her like he’d been waiting months to do so because he had.

“Lift your arms for me.” He whispered against her lips, he waited for her to obey, which she did without any protest. John barely pulled his t-shirt over her head before his mouth moved to her nipple, sucking and swirling his tongue around it just so he could hear the soft little noises she made. John likes to take his time when he has a woman in his bed.

He let his teeth graze over her swollen peak just to test the waters, just to see what she’d allow. He felt like he won the lottery when he heard her soft little whimper.

“J..John” Oh god this little thing was in trouble, big trouble.

“Yeah?” He spoke while moving his mouth from one perfect breast to the other. He had his hands exploring her body while continued to suck on her. If these are the noises she makes just from this he could not imagine what he could get her to do while inside of her. His cock twitched against his leg just at the thought.

His mouth didn’t leave hers when he slipped his hand down the sweatpants she was wearing. But he did groan when he just felt hair, no underwear.

“Don’t wear underwear?” He questioned, his breath becoming ragged.

“I..well I didn’t have any” she breathed out, of course she didn’t, his sweetheart didn’t have any clothes to change into here, she was wearing his pajamas.

“Mhm, we’ll remember that for next time” a subtle, silent, promise that there would in fact be a next time. He lifted his head from her chest to allow himself to see her, to see what he was touching. He ran his hand across her bush which he was not expecting her to have, but it’s absolutely not complaining about the existence of.

He watched her, the desperation on her face as he removed his hand to pull her pants down. “Oh so pretty” he muttered mostly to himself as he got the pants past her ankles. John pushed her knees apart, he didn’t even have to feel her to know how wet she was, it was all over her thighs.

John glanced at her face, she looked both incredibly nervous and excited at the same time. He moved his hand, his thumb running over her sensitive little bud and then running down her soaked folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

She whined a precious sound he could get more than used to. He didn’t even have time to think before he was undoing his belt. She watched him as his jeans hit the floor along with his underwear. A gasp, god that stroked his ego.

“That's not going to fit.” She whined it would fit, he’d make damn sure of that, he pulled her thighs closer to his as he crawled back on top of her, placing himself between her legs.

“Oh it’ll fit, we’re going to make it fit.”

John is usually a very patient man, his job requires a lot of patience but he’s been after this bird for months, he’d be as gentle as he could but there’s no patience left.

John is a bit of a sadist, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the little whimper that left her lips as he dragged the tip of his cock against her slick sex.

“You gonna be good for me, love?”

He almost shuddered when her words hit his ears “Yes sir.” Fuck, he normally has to train his pets to behave like that, all that time he spent perusing her would have been worth it just to hear that.

“Fuckkk.” He growled as he pushed into her, she was so wet but so tight that it almost hurt. His bulbous tip was barely in before she started whining nonsense about it being too much, about him being too big.

“Shhh princess, take a deep breath, relax, let me in.” He rested his hand on her shoulder, a means to calm her. The second he felt her gummy walls relax around him he jerked his hips, bottoming out inside of her.

“Oh my god” she cried softly as he hit her cervix. John ran a hand up and down her side for a moment letting her settle, letting her get used to the stretch.

“That’s it, oh good girl.” His hips began rocking back and forth at a slow steady pace as he pushed her knees to her chest, he’s waited months to get in this cunt he was going to make sure they both enjoyed it.

With every moan or whimper that left her pretty lips, he picked up the pace, an obvious sign she was enjoying it was the green light he needed to really have his way with her.

“I knew you were a little slut. There you go baby, that's it.”

Every word he spoke was gritted out, every filthy sentence with a mix of praise and degradation. This was his woman even if she didn’t know she belonged to him yet.

With every deep thrust into her, he watched her expression change, watching the way her mouth hung open and her eyes glazed over. She got cock drunk faster than any woman he’s ever been with.

“Look at that, pretty baby. Dumb on my cock already.” He taunted her, she was too out of it to respond with anything other than incoherent babbling. It was like a reward for his patience with her

John rutted into her hard and fast, normally he’d touch her clit but he just wanted her to finish on his cock. Just wanted to feel her fall apart from only that. He bullied his way in and out of her until his wish came true until she was squirming and squeezing him so hard he could hardly move, feeling her body spasm around him.

She was saying something but he couldn’t understand it, just noises mostly. “Fuck baby squeezin me so hard.” He groaned out as he continued to fuck her through her orgasm.

John’s was not far behind, she was too wet, too warm and too excited. His pace quickened as he neared his end. It was brutal, she’d most definitely be bruised tomorrow. He probably should have asked if she was on birth control before he let go but it was just too late for that, his hips slowed as he released hot ropes into her.

He rode it out feeling himself soften inside of her. “You did so good” he murmured as he laid down pulling her against him. She just let out a little sleepy whine.

“Guess you have something more fun to do on Saturday nights from now on huh?”

#captain john price x reader #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price x you #price x reader #price x you #price/reader #captain john price x you #captain price #captain price x reader #captian john price #cod x fem!reader #cod x female reader #cod smut

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baphometsss · 3 days ago

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I think his dialogue with Bellara is Solas refusing to acknowledge the truth of what he'd done, honestly. Elgar'nan also seems to be aware of it somehow and throws this at him in their little bitch-off. Remember that he doesn't know that one part of Mythal--her memories--survived just long enough to seek Morrigan out and ask her to accept her so those memories could survive. As far as he knows, that part of her was killed when he absorbed her power. That's why he's so surprised to see Morrigan at the end of DATV.

Solas obviously understood that this fragment within Flemeth was enough of Mythal to speak with her, to apologise to her, to argue with her. He obviously knew she had Mythal's power or he wouldn't have shown up in the first place. So the idea that he didn't really see her as Mythal doesn't hold water imo, and the truth stinks of the very on-brand Solas tactic of compartmentalising the truth to justify it to himself.

There's a post flying around about Mythal's abuse of Solas and it's mentioned how, when we see Morrigan in the Crossroads, she explains that she will not take up arms against Solas if the need calls for it. Some have interpreted this to mean that Mythal cannot bear to fight Solas, but Morrigan actually refers to Mythal in the third person here. She says 'what has passed between Solas and Mythal'... and she's referring to the abuse that Mythal put him through, abuse that Morrigan herself experienced from Flemeth. Flemythal did not see Morrigan as a person as much as a new potential vessel and a weapon. Likewise, Mythal did not see Solas as much more than a weapon, by her own admission. Yet still, there is a strange love there, a love that has become twisted and perverted, something you see in a lot of toxic parent-child bonds where the parents' wishes have primacy in the relationship. Morrigan cannot bear to fight Solas after seeing so much of her own trauma reflected in Mythal's memories. She knows from observing them that it was not just her mother's actions that harmed her, but Mythal's.

Solas kills her to take her power, which he needed to further his plans. However, the fragment within Flemeth is not all that different to the fragment in the Crossroads, despite what Morrigan might say. The fragment within Morrigan has been tempered, sure, but she is still the fragment within Flemeth that abused Morrigan, raised her to be her vessel one day, and encouraged her to make the old god baby at the end of Origins by sleeping with the Warden.

So I think that the Flemythal fragment should have been enough to convince him. The fact that it's not only proves my point. He likely doesn't visit the Crossroads fragment because he has told himself that it's not truly Mythal, when in fact he is just too afraid to see her again, especially that version of her, who died because he told her what the Evanuris were doing. He cannot bear the shame, the shame he shows when he goes to Flemythal at the end of DAI. Considering that this Mythal has blown the heads off of his statues, I think it's fair to say he would've been dragon food if he had.

I don’t think that fragment was the only thing able to stop him because I see his atonement path as the result of many people influencing him into being able to make the right decision in the end. But I do think, though, that the Crossroad fragment of Mythal was the only thing that could liberate him from the duty and the guilt that rooted in their shared past.

I'm not disagreeing with you here. I am saying that it's not the only thing that matters, which is what the original responder was trying to assert. Being liberated from Mythal would not have absolved him from what he did to the Inquisition, what he did to Varric and the Inquisitor, and even if she had released him he still wouldn't have been able to stop. The guilt over that would've eaten him up just as badly. He also needed Rook to show him that the choices are there in his hands, right now. The Inquisitor heralds the new future. It's a past/present/future allegory and isolating his motivations to just one of them misses the entire point of that scene.

The whole 'refuge for Mythal' thing is really interesting bc it shows that Solas really saw Mythal as being on his side when it couldn't be more obvious that she enjoyed the power of being queen of the Evanuris. He calls it a 'struggle' in the regret memory, but I don't think she was struggling as much as he thinks. Even Felassan realises how delusional he is about her. It's one of many things Solas is in denial about.

That said, it does seem like he was much more aware of Elgar'nan's evil than she was; I truly believe that Mythal found a kindred spirit in Elgar'nan and thought that she was the right one for him. She tempered him and mitigated the harm he did as much as she could (which doesnt seem to be that much, in all honesty). Whether or not they had romantic feelings for each other is up for debate, but I think it's very possible. There was likely an element of tension at being evenly matched in the way they were that gave their relationship a pathological edge. It was only when Solas told her about the Evanuris using the power of the Blight that she finally decided to take him seriously and challenge her husband and the rest of the Evanuris head-on.

It's also really revealing that the Blight was her final straw. Mythal obviously had no issue with slavery as long as her slaves were treated well. It's very reminiscent of real world attitudes some had towards their slaves ie that as long as you don't abuse them it's okay. They don't understand the fundamentally unethical nature of owning another person. It's why I don't buy the benevolence retcon because slavery is inherently cruel--something that both Solas and an elven Inquisitor can argue with Dorian about.

Yeah, Solas really is an unreliable narrator with Mythal and I really wish we'd had more perspectives other than his. I long to see Mythal in all her cunty glory but alas it will never be

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romanreignsbae · 1 day ago

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the warmth between us - chapter 1

a/n: sorry for the delay on this guys! i hope you all enjoy the first chapter of the warmth between us!!!

word count: 4k

tw: just a touch of angst and maybe some fluff! 🥰

Shutting the door behind her, Valentina flipped the sign on her flower shop's door from closed to open. The crisp morning air had her in a good mood for today’s predictably not so busy Tuesday. Opening up barely a month ago, Valentina had come to learn Tuesdays were typically the least busiest day of the week. Streets were empty, barely any cars around, let alone people, especially on this side of town.

To say the least, Valentina surprisingly enjoyed when it was busy. Not only because of the fact she was making her well earned money, though that was surely a plus. She just enjoyed interacting with others. She didn’t get the chance to interact with many people often, so when she could it was always appreciated.

But then again…what did she expect moving to a big city. All alone..no family, no friends, just her and her puppy, Aurora.

It was a sad and quiet experience, but in some way peaceful? She’d never felt so at peace before, but also never so bored.

Valentina has always leaned to be more on the shy side. To people she didn’t know, she was quiet, barely speaking at all. But when she warmed up to someone they’d never hear her shut up.

Nonetheless, opening 'Marianna’s' had always been her dream. From a young age it's all shes ever wanted. Her grandmother, whom she named her flower shop after, was one of the large influences for her love for gardening. Valentina would spend her whole summer break planting flowers all around her house, street, neighborhood. Valentina loved the concept of caring for something so beautiful, it made her feel like she has a purpose.

The phone ringing behind her desk cut off her thoughts. She dropped the pink roses she was holding and rushed to the phone.

"Hi, I'm Valentina, how can I help you?" she asked with a relatively cheerful tone. She didn’t get phone calls often, most people would just drop by. It was simpler that way. She had come to learn when people called, most of the time they had orders.

"Hi! I believe i'm calling ‘Marianna’s’?" The voice on the other side of the phone seemed to come from a woman. She sounded friendly and like she was around her age.

"That's correct,” Valentina wondered who would be calling bright and early at this time. It was unlikely to have customers this early, and rarely did she ever get phone calls. “how can I help you?"

"I actually work right beside you. Reigns Enterprises." Valentina always took notice of the large building, the building which was practically attached to her little shop. It was absolutely humongous, towering over every building in sight. She was impressed they even took notice of her building.

"Wow, really?"

"Yes! My husband’s cousin is actually the CEO," Valentina paused. She had heard of Roman Reigns. The CEO of Reigns Enterprises. She knew he was known for his hostility and hard work ethic. The voice on the other side of the phone spoke again “It's kinda his birthday, and well, we know he doesn't like to do much..so we just thought we'd order some flowers for him. Something small, but meaningful.”

"Aw! That's really sweet of you guys! Is there anything specific you'd like?" A big company like Reigns Enterprises ordering flowers meant a lot. If she made a good impression, the possibility of them ordering again would be likely. "Not at all, we know absolutely nothing about flowers! But, just one small favour, would you mind dropping the flowers off here? I know you may be busy but the streets out are kinda dead.”

Valentina glanced outside, the streets really were dead empty, no one in sight. Plus, it'd be cool to drop off flowers to such a professional company. "You know what, sure!"

"Just tell the people at the front, Naomi ordered flowers. I'll let them know too in case."

Hanging up the phone, Valentina skipped around her shop putting together the best bouquet she could. Grabbing a mix of red and pink roses, she tied it up the bouquet, and locked up her shop. Within less than a minute Valentina was walking into the absolutely humongous, slightly intimidating building.

The interior Reigns Enterprises was nicer then the exterior, if even possible. Valentina could even see her reflection coming off the spotless white floor. She approached the two female sectaries, who gave her a look up and down.

She blushed as she remembered her dress wasn't exactly appropriate to wear in a place like Reigns Enterprises. She smiled kindly before beginning to speak.

"Hi! I'm Val-"

"Yeah, we know, the flower girl. Head on up to the the last floor. Last door in the left hallway." The secretary was straight forward, she had a pair of large square glasses on, with an oversized yellow blouse. She had a look of disapproval on her face. A small frown came across Valentina's face, but was quickly covered up by smile.

She stood in the large elevator with the flowers tucked under her right arm. Following instructions she was headed to the top floor, nervously smiling the few employees that would hop on and off the elevator at each floor.

Knocking on the two large doors, Valentina awaited to finally meet Naomi. Instead what she didn't expect was male voice to respond in a "What?" that sounded so ever bothered.

Valentina gulped softly, before opening the door slowly. There sat a man, an undeniably handsome man, his hair slicked back perfectly, a suit the hugged his seemingly perfect body, and she couldn’t ignore the bothered look spread across his face.

She hadn’t realized she was staring at him, he looked at her dumbfounded. She fiddled with her fingers nervously, speaking in a small voice.

"Hi, i'm Valentina. I'm here to drop off the flowers that were ordered." The man looked at her intently. His face began turning a bright shade of pink, alongside his ears, indicating one thing, anger. “What fucking flowers? I didn't order anything."

"I got a call- They told me-"

"Well, I didn't fucking call. How stupid are you? Do you know who I am?" Valentina was visibly taken back by his sudden lash out. Her cheeks began to heat up of embarrassment. She hadn’t been exposed to this behaviour for…awhile now.

"No..I don't know who you are.." she whispered nervously while staring at the floor. He scowled darkly.

"I own the fucking building your standing in." His voice oozed pure confidence. Valentina peered up at him, as it all clicked. Who else would have a large office at the very top of the building? Roman Reigns.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I believe I was supposed to drop these off to someone by the name of Naomi," Pure fear overcame Valentina's body, wondering if the stories shes heard of this man were true. His brows furrowed slightly. In attempt to be respectful she began to address the reason she was sent here in the first place. "Happy Birthday by the wa-"

"That's it! That's fucking it! Get the fuck out of my office!" His hands slammed harshly on his desk. Valentina's body shook in surprise. She didn't expect that. Tears came to her eyes out of pure shock. She dropped the flowers on the floor and she could feel the tears coming.

Without second thought she ran out of his office, scrambling to the emergency exit staircase. Running down the steps, she left the building, heading back to her own shop. She couldn't believe people were actually so mean.

————

"Roman! I can't believe you acted that way! She seemed so sweet!" And beautiful Roman thought to himself. He couldn't believe Naomi actually ordered flowers for him. He rubbed his temples for what felt like the 100th time today.

He was just having a frustrating day, and took it all out on the girl who was told by his dumbass secretaries to come up to his office. He could see the way her eyes watered when he yelled at her. The guilt was now all settling in while Naomi was telling him off.

"I want you to go down there, right now and apologize." Roman chuckled at her words. "In your fucking dreams." Naomi looked at Jimmy for back up. Jimmy scoffed, before then taking notice of Naomi’s very serious look.

"C'mon Uce. Ole girl really did seem nice. Naomi had her on speakerphone. She seems real passionate bout her job." Roman looked daggers his way, while Jimmy looked at the floor, stifling his laugh. Jey, sat on the sofa, also trying not to crack up.

Roman could still vividly remember the way her pretty brown eyes were full of warmth. And how sad they looked after he acted like a goddamn nutcase.

She was beautiful either way though. That was one of the first things he noticed about her. Her beautiful eyes, the way they looked so soft and kind, her soft full lips, and her perfect figure. She was undeniably beautiful.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, Roman." Naomi spoke like she could get Roman out of his seat to go apologize. But, he also knew she wouldn't stop bickering to him about it till he did so. If there was one thing about Naomi, it was that she’s determined. Roman admired the hustle, but also got pissed off time to time.

"Fine," he spoke gruffly. "Don't expect me to fucking mean it though."

"I'll come with you, uce." Jey spoke his eyes moving from his phone to Roman. "Anything to get away from Sami ass."

The pair began to leave the room, Roman moving as fast as he could to just get this dumb shit over with. Jey however taking his sweet time, slightly causing Roman to want to yell at him.

“Her name is Valentina by the way!” Naomi called out as they left the room. A stunning name for a stunning woman, Roman thought to himself.

Roman and Jey both looked up at the girlish flower shop. It was called 'Marianna’s" the whole place was decked out in colour. How fucking ironic. Roman did wonder how the name ‘Marianna’s’ applied to her. Naomi called her Valentina, so this definitely resonated elsewhere.

"Let's do this, fast."

The door of the flower shop was so small, Roman swore if he straightened out he would have a fucking concussion from the short ass doorway. The smell of fresh flowers was all over the small shop. He saw the familiar girl sitting on a crate, sorting out the different coloured roses laid across the floor.

He couldn't seem to ignore the small frown on her face. The frown he may have had something to do with. He didn't know why, but that made his heart twitch. The fuck.

"Hey, sweetheart." Jey spoke slyly catching Valentinas attention. She softly smiled, her plump lips pressing against each other. "Hi, anything I can do to help you?"

Roman didn't know why, but he didn't like Jey talking to her. Calling her sweetheart and shit. That wasn't his place to do so. She got up from the crate she was sitting on and walked towards Jey. She then realized he wasn't exactly alone.

Her eyes moved from Jey to Roman, her smiling dropping. "My big cousin wants to apologize to you.." Jey started talking. Her eyes widened slightly. Roman moved a few steps towards her, maintaining eye contact.

"I'm sorry for speaking to you the way I did..it's- it’s just been a rough day, that's all." He spoke in an exhausted tone. He truly was exhausted. Always being in his office, and living off of 4-5 hours of sleep wouldn’t exactly make him the happiest person.

Her small smile reappeared as she nodded her head understandingly. "It's okay, I get it. We all have those days."

For some reason that made Roman feel even worse. He knows damn well if someone spoke to him that way he’d be pissed the fuck off, but she was so easily forgiving. It made him feel like shit all over again.

She was naive. He could read people well, and knew she was the type to forgive and forget too easily. He realized his anger had slightly simmered down too.

He nodded his head at her before turning around to leave. That's when he realized Jey wasn't moving. He was in a trance staring at her, with a small smile playing on his lips. She giggled when Roman pulled him back roughly by his shoulder catching his attention.

"Time to go. Now." Roman once again didn’t know why, but he felt angry all over again that Jey was looking at her like that. Like he wanted her. He doesn't even fucking know her.

The two left the shop walking back to the building.

"Don't try no shit with her." Jey looked surprised by Roman's tone. He sounded almost possessive. "Why not? You like her?" Jey said half jokingly half serious. His big cousin has never told him off regarding anything to do with a girl. Roman looked at him with a small scowl.

"Fuck no. Just don't try no shit." He spoke with a unwavering voice. He sounded convincing. "Aight, Uce. You got my word.”

------

The last thing Valentina expected from Roman was a apology. More surprisingly, a seemingly genuine apology. Her thoughts were cut off again by the door opening. This time a beautiful woman, a woman with a dark complexion walked through the doors of her shop.

"Hi, I'm Naomi. We spoke over the phone," Valentina was now also wondering what Naomi was doing here. “I’m also here to apologize for that whole misunderstanding. I shoulda been more clear with the secretaries instead of sending you straight to Roman’s office.”

Valentina did not expect that. Her eyes widene, not exactly knowing how to respond. “Oh um- that’s totally okay! Mistakes happen.”

Naomi walks towards her, leaning onto a table. “I just thought i’d come here to chill for a bit, feels good to actually interact with a female. I’m stuck with stupid men alllll day long.”

Valentina giggled softly before she decided to switch topics out of curiosity. “Was the man that came here with Roman your husband?”

Naomi laughed loudly. “No, that’s actually his twin brother, Jey.” Twins? “My husbands name is Jimmy.” Naomi looked at Valentina before beginning to speak again.

“You know what, tomorrow head on over to the building, and bring some of your pretty flowers,” Her eyes danced across the shop taking everything in. “You can help me decorate for the business dinner we’re hosting. We don't need anything super crazy, maybe just a little something to make the atmosphere look a little…happier.”

Valentina thought it through. It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and Naomi’s right, some female interaction even for her would be nice. “Sounds good, i’ll be there!"

Naomi smiled pleased, she stood up straight and walked to the door. “Be there 9 on the dot! See ya, Val!”

----

Walking into the same building that almost had her shedding tears, Valentina felt a wave of anxiety in her stomach. She had her rolling stand full of boxes with all sorts of flowers and decorations.

She was almost..scared? Not necessarily scared of the people, just the situation. Roman.

He’s all that’s been on her mind. The way he was utterly upset with her, but also genuinely apologized to her.

Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed?

This time Valentina didn’t bother approaching the secretaries. Naomi texted her to inform security would just let her in, and she could go straight to her office.

Walking in, there Naomi stood laughing with two men. Twins. The man with the shorter hair who she recognized to be the man who came with Roman yesterday. And the other man with longer hair, hair that was coloured half red, that was obviously Naomi’s husband.

“H-hi..” Making her presence aware.

The trio all turned to look over with smiles on their faces. Valentina took in how similar the twins looked, hair being a way to tell them apart.

“Yay, you’re here!” A smiling Naomi walked over linking arms with Valentina.

“This is my husband Jimmy,” Naomi pointed at the man with long hair. Jimmy smiled kindly at her, with a small wave. “Wudup?!” Valentina could already tell Jimmy was a ball of energy. “And this is Jey, my brother in law.”

Jey seemed to be a little more serious. But a smile formed on his face nonetheless, added alongside a small nod.

“Aight! Let’s start then!”

While working on putting the meeting together, Valentina couldn’t ignore the way Jey kept on staring at her. Jey would stare at her for minutes on end, looking like he was trying to figure her out. It almost gave her a weird feeling in her tummy. She didn’t know if she liked him staring at her or not.

However, within 30 minutes, the four of them had the meeting room looking happier, more alive. Naomi had a look of proudness on her face. “We did a pretty good job.”

“Damn straight. Wait till Roman sees this he’s gonna be impres-”

The door behind them opened abruptly. Turning around, there Roman stood. Valentina took notice in his perfectly pulled back hair, and his sleek black suit. He looked…well..like a business man.

“You guys did a pretty good job,” Roman glanced around the room, with almost a hint of impression on his face. Valentina wanted to impress him.

Unaware of the fact he was staring almost directly at her. Valentina’s cheeked turned a warm shade of pink as she broke eye contact. She could still feel his eyes on her and as she looked down at the floor.

“O-Okay, i’m gonna head out..”

“I’ll walk you ou-” Jey was cut off by Roman. “No. I’ll walk you out.”

A scowl appeared on Jey’s face which was quickly followed by his fists clenching, then unclenching. Roman took notice immediately, barking, “Is there a fucking problem?”

“Nah, Uce. No problem at all.”

Naomi and Jimmy shared worried glances taking in the situation. Jey was a hothead, and Roman was just…well, Roman. Roman had an amused look on his face, with a small smirk playing on his lips. He always got what he wanted.

Everyone knew the cousins could get along well enough, and in the blink eye turn into each others fucking enemies. Its just the way Roman and Jey have always been. No one questioned it. There was no need to. It’d been this way since they were kids.

---

Walking into the elevator together, Valentina couldn’t help but notice the strong masculine scent coming off Roman. He smelt…expensive.

“Ya’ll did a good job, I can give you that.” His tone wasn’t hostile like yesterday. He sounded like a genuine normal person.

Valentina always loved hearing positive feedback from people regarding her job. This was definitely something she would not be taking lightly. The Roman Reigns just told her he was impressed with her work.

Her cheeks once again felt heated as she replied hesitantly. “Thank you…it..means a lot.”

“How long you been into flowers?” Valentina surely didn’t expect Roman to keep the conversation going. It was unlike him to.

“Well…my grandma introduced me to more so gardening. We used to plant all sorts of flowers though. When I was younger i’d always help her garden in our backyard. Every summer it was all we’d do.” Valentina felt a wave of emotion come through her. Eyes watering at the thought of her favourite person, Valentina felt so suddenly small and vulnerable. “I miss her so much..”

Roman’s eyes softened at her words. He stared at her as he debated on how to reply. He wasn’t all too good with this feelings shit. “I understand…loss is hard on everyone,” Debating if he should continue speaking, he settled on not being a total dick. “Everyday it gets easier and easier. I promise. Can I ask when your grandmother passed?”

Valentina eyes widened in surprise to Roman’s reaction. She didn’t expect any comfort from him. And especially not a follow up question. Today was completely full of surprises.

She smiled softly at the thought of her grandma. The kindest, most caring, and beautiful person to ever grace her in life.

“She passed away about 3 months ago. She had just turned 83. I actually opened this flower shop in honour of her. She taught me all about flowers and gardening.”

Roman nodded his head, with an unreadable look on his face. “Shit, so her death was recent. I’m not surprised you’re still upset about it. It was recent. But, like I said, day by day, shit does get easier.”

A smile spread across Valentine's face. Roman couldn't help but softly smile back at her. This damn girl was contagious. He didn't know why but a smile on her face, made him feel....at ease?

The elevator opening stopped Romans thoughts. He moved aside for her to step out first. He didn't know why but he felt the need to be kind to her. Poor girl owned a small flower shop, and looks like she’d cry is anyone raised their voice at her. He had some lingering guilt in him from his little breakdown he had yesterday.

Walking out the doors of the elevator, Valentina couldn't help but notice the nasty side eyes the same secretaries were giving her. She never liked have eyes on her, and felt herself becoming nervous.

Breathing out as they finally leave the building, Valentina goes to thank Roman. "I really appreciate your advice," she truly did. He obviously seemed to know what he’s talking about. It couldn’t help but to cross Valentina’s mind if Roman has ever lost anyone that meant a lot to him. Nonetheless she replies in a simple way. “And you’re right. Day by day things do get easier."

Roman nodded with a small smile on his face. Walking to the front of Valentina’s flower shop, Roman planted his feet, eyes lingering from the bottom of the shop, to the top.

“I’ll give to you. You’ve done a pretty good job with the place already. I see people walking round here with flowers all the time recently,” Valentina blushed profusely over his praise.

His eyes moved back to her, he looked unsure of what to say next, but spoke with confidence nonetheless. “Tell you what, if you need any business advice, or even someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

He was so bold. Valentina could barely respond with the mixed emotions coming over her. She barely mumbled out a quiet “thank you,” before smiling softly, staring at the floor. “I appreciate it.”

Roman nodded his head, his eyes moving over her once more before he turned around, walking back to his building, leaving her with a bundle of emotions to unpack.

all likes and reblogs are appreciated!! i’d love to hear everyone’s thoughts! i hope everyone enjoyed chapter 1 💗💗

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