#and this whole series only have 4 parts?
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What Henry Deserves: 1/4
From the moment I saw the movie Henry’s “I’m allowed” line felt particularly important, so I decided to go through the book and analyzed every time he said some variation of the word "allowed."
The first time is in Chapter 10 during his argument with Alex. This line is also in the movie almost word for word: “I can love you and want you and still not want that life. I’m allowed, all right, and it doesn’t make me a liar; it makes me a man with some infinitesimal shred of self-preservation, unlike you, and you don’t get to come here and call me a coward for it.” This one feels bittersweet. On one hand, he’s standing up for himself, but on the other hand, he’s standing up for his right to stay in his tower, as movie Alex would say.
It’s clear he doesn’t see any way out of the homophobic/high-pressure environment he’s in because he’s not looking for solutions. He won’t even hear Alex out when he mentions the possibility. He’s been conditioned to think that making waves or doing anything but “keeping the peace” is one of the worst things a person can do. It’s worse than the homophobia, racism, colonialism, and everything else the monarchy stands for. He’ll do anything to avoid harming their public image, including completely giving up on his own happiness.
This is what makes this scene so bittersweet to me. It’s good to see Henry stick up for himself for himself, but it’s sad that he feels so trapped in his role that the most empowering thing he can do is break up with the love of his life. Pushing Alex away is simultaneously an attempt to hold on to what little power he has and giving up any chance of his happiness.
#shimmer's thoughts#whd#red white and royal blue#rwrb#henry fox mountchristen windsor#mary mountchristen windsor#alex claremont diaz#can i just say the fact that the first time he says anything like this is more than halfway through the book#and this whole series only have 4 parts?#oh babes#not citing pages btw bc idk if different editions have different numberings
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This was easily one of the best Lupin episodes
#there will be a rant in the tags that you can ignore#but it is so upsetting how modern/current lupin took away the depths of these characters and flimsily tries to restore their earlier depth#i'm one of those people who craves depth in what i watch and it's so difficult to like this franchise because it will be so close to doing#something interesting only to abandon it#this episode and part one as a whole was peak lupin in my opinion with each character having emotional depth yet flaws to overcome#yet modern lupin would have you believe that these characters don't desire to improve in any capacity#if we were to just focus on Goemon for example right here he shows depth with revealing hidden emotional maturity and empathy for Lupin by#comforting him and admitting he himself is afraid (which is a big deal for a character like him who is supposed to be unflinching)#but in modern lupin goemon will literally say that he's not afraid of anything and this is written without any hint of irony or depth#i'm okay with mindless entertainment and i understand that this is a series simply about stealing but the character assassination is so#disappointing#and when this series does try to be “deep” they pick the most triggering subject matter possible to depict to the point where it's#practically unwatchable (this is in reference to Part 4 and its constant SA plots as well as the rampant gratuitous child abuse plots#throughout the entire series)#i want so badly to love lupin the 3rd but it's a huge problem when fanfiction understands the characters better than the source material#lupin iii#lupin the third#lupin the 3rd#goemon ishikawa xiii#goemon#arsene lupin iii#jigen daisuke#daisuke jigen#fujiko mine#part 1
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Who was your favourite mario character as a kid, and who is it now?
honestly? that's a pretty tough question for me to answer, because i played a lot of mario games growing up, and i don't know if younger me would've been able to choose a favourite. in terms of established characters, i think a safe option would likely be bowser; he was always my pick in Mario Kart 64, Melee, and Brawl. though in terms of the entire series as a whole, i liked the luigis mansion ghost designs a lot.
a favourite nowadays? i'm not quite sure. if i had to pick an established character, it'd probably be wario or waluigi. in terms of the entire series, i like the Mario Sunshine boos design a lot... but that's narrowing it down too small because i like a whole lot of designs from the franchise, so it's really hard to pinpoint.
#ask#anon#kinda funny that i pick the ghost characters as designs i like while my main oc is a skeleton#anyway yeah its really hard to wager when it comes to the entirety of mario's games#like in comparson. i didnt play like. a massive ammount of crash bandicoot in comparison to mario games#but i can tell you my favourite character from those games is Dingodile#and then something similar with sonic the hedgehog. i really like Vector (atleast specifically from sonic heroes)#or eggman even. both his old designs and his current design. hes a really fun character#i think an early avatar i had on steam was fanart of dingodile#my favourite version of him is probably his look from crash bash. but his design from crash 4 is also really fucking great.#but ive always liked seeing dingodile as just. more animalistic. similar to most other bosses in Crash#like how he only makes animal noises when getting hurt or having a dumb laugh when winning in crash bash#juxtaposed to his first showcase in Crash 3 where he can talk. which thats fine and cool and all.#but i just really like how Crash Bash makes him more as just like. a sentient bipedal animal that still just makes animal noises#another series i can pinpoint a favourite towards is with Banjo Kazooie and Clanker.... my boy Clanker...#with tooie i also kinda like mr patch. ignoring one part of his characters design#he's visually goofy and i like the whole patch-work stuff in his design#anyway i hope that answers your question well enough anon
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How Bethesda fixed Vampires without realizing it
So there's a LOT of takes on vampires across media, and most of them are radically different from each other. The Elder Scrolls series has an interesting version that I haven't seen anywhere else, that incidentally fixes a bunch of lore issues with vampires, and yet Bethesda hasn't ever really leaned into any of that.
So, the issue with vampires in large RPGs like Elder Scrolls games, D&D, etc, is that a world where various elements of character building are supposed to be balanced, vampires are heavy on the upside and light on meaningful drawbacks. So in Oblivion, Bethesda completely reworked their vampires, coming at it with a blank slate:
Vampirism is a 4-stage affliction, with each stage increasing the numerous benefits of being a vampire as well as the middling drawbacks. Stage 4 brings with it all humanoid NPCs recognizing you as a ravenous monster and attacking you, basically wrecking the game. And, this is the unique part, you reduce stages by drinking blood. Being a vampire is LESSENED by doing the most vampiric thing out there, it actively makes you weaker.
And this is great. From a gameplay perspective, you vanish below ground to kill zombies/robots/whatever, and you grow stronger as the dungeon goes on. But if you don't rush through it, or if it's large, you surface having ignored your hunger for several days and have to do a whole second quest to sneak into town at night and drink blood, where the only reward is to engage with the game again. It's a drawback in the gameplay sense rather than the stats sense. And it lets game designers throw the player against weak vampires in town early on, and face dungeons full of max-bloodlust monsters later once the player knows how things work.
Meanwhile, from a lore perspective this is also great. Suddenly, it's not that vampires have to be evil, it's that they have a choice. A good person who flees their family to hide in a cave is going to starve, turning into a ravenous, uncontrolled, extremely strong monster. Someone who's comfortable sneaking around town drinking blood, meanwhile? They never lose control. They walk in the sun. They're perfectly human. Or as human as anyone can be while the blood of their neighbors flows in their veins.
And Bethesda doesn't DO ANYTHING with this. People you talk to in-game just treat it as "all vampires are evil, why would you expect anything else", when they've created a world where vampire morality is so much more interesting. The few vampires who exist in civilization that you're not supposed to kill don't really discuss their condition at all. And there's plenty of evil vampires choosing to live in caves running societies of vampires, when that makes no sense compared to basically any other way of life they could set up.
Bethesda games are a masterful disaster, in this as in everything else.
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Nanami is the type of husband who… ᧔࿔᧓
︶︶⊹ ୨ I love writing about nanami ୧ ⊹︶︶
Part 2 of my “the type of husband who” series.
Unedited, srry loves <3
Nanami is the type of husband who refuses to text you and will call you just because you texted a simple "hi."
Nanami is the type of husband who makes sure to learn how to perfect your favorite coffee or tea, so when you wake up in the morning it’s already there waiting for you.
Namami is the type of husband who can communicate his feelings VERY well and will help you with yours.
Namami is the type of husband who always yearned for marriage so when he got it, it became somewhat of a badge of honor. (Gojo also got him a “The Best Husband Ever” shirt for a wedding gift because he knew Kento wanted to be a husband and Nanami wears it as a bedtime shirt😭).
Nanami is the type of husband who doesn’t show public affection, but he will hold your hand with the occasional little back rub.
Nanami is the type of husband who wants babies and a lot of them. He always knew deep down that he wanted little ones running around but pushed the thought away because of his job (that’s until he met you).
Nanami is the type of husband who loves nicknames and rarely calls you by your real name. He prefers "darling" and "love".
Nanami is the type of husband who likes to wake up early but hates waking you up early because he knows how much you love to sleep, so he’ll just lay in bed watching you sleep, rubbing your hair. (He’s a super, loving man).
Nanami is the type of husband who works way too hard and needs a vacation every so often. he always lets you pick the destination though. (he took you to Malaysia for the honeymoon of course).
Nanami is the type of husband who LOVES to cuddle and will randomly grab a book and your hand to go out and cuddle in the big hammock in your backyard (just imagine that seriously).
Nanami is the type of husband who loves giving you what you want and struggles to say no. Do you want those nasty chips that have too much red food dye? Go grab a bag baby. Want to spend all night watching princess movies and eating candy? He’ll go fetch the blankets.
Nanami is the type of husband who adores the colder seasons and will randomly come home with 4 bags of fall decor (he’s so wholesome).
Nanami is the type of husband who is oblivious to how adorable he is. he does the cutest things throughout the whole day and when you bring it to his attention he’s just like “Oh”.
Nanami is the type of husband who you will hear in the next room bragging about how “smart and amazing ” you are, You'll randomly hear him say “My wife made the most lovely bread today” to one of his co workers.
Nanami is the type of husband who gets shy when his students ask to see a picture of you because they can’t believe he actually got married. (he shows them a thousand pictures of you lol).
Nanami is the type of husband who loves back scratches. He doesn’t like to expect anything from you but he will expect back scratches.
Nanami is the type of husband who holds your legs up so he can vacuum under where your legs are (he’s way too strong).
Nanami is the type of husband who starts a little book club with just the two of you and he looks forward to it every other week.
Nanami is the type of husband who will secretly feel betrayed when you take a nice bath without him because that’s something he likes to do with you.
Nanami is the type of husband who loves to take care of you but also loves when you take care of him. (He likes being babied and you are the only person who will ever know that information)
Reblogs are definitely appreciated ♡♡♡
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#jjk x you#jujutsu x reader#jujustsu kaisen x reader#fluff#y/n x nanami#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#nanami fluff#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#jujutsu kaisen nanami#nanami kento#jjk kento#kento x reader#kento fluff#kento x y/n#jujutsu kento#kento x you#jjk imagines#nanami x reader#nanami headcanons#husband nanami#jujutsu kaisen kento#dad nanami
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Ao3
ASTARION
⤷ The Arrangement (on-going series): masterlist
⤷ Book - Astarion comes across an interesting book and decides to share the knowledge with you. Quite literally.
⤷ Lockpicking - You ask Astarion to teach you how to lockpick and things get... out of hand.
⤷ Pointy Ears - You accidentally find just how sensitive Astarion is when it comes to a certain part of his body…
⤷ Curiosity - Astarion wishes to satisfy his curiosity when it comes to breastfeeding... and comes up with a proposition that is mutually beneficial.
⤷ Oral Fixation - Astarion is quite sure you are going to drive him insane from how adorable and clueless you are when eating those juicy fruits around him... and he just has to do something about it.
⤷ Unexpected - Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.
⤷ Breathe - Astarion is more than eager to show you the perks of not breathing.
⤷ Questions - Your curiosity drives you to ask Astarion a very unexpected question, and he's more than happy to give you a proper reply.
⤷ Patience - You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.
⤷ Backfire - You should have known better than to make Astarion jealous, and now you are left to deal with the consequences.
⤷ Reading Session - Astarion walks in on you reading a rather suggestive book, and far be it from him to interrupt your learning process.
⤷Trance - Astarion is having a hard time trancing, and you offer to help him out in more ways than one.
⤷ Fever - You're running a fever, and Astarion offers to cool you down… only to make things a whole lot worse.
⤷ Everything - You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.
⤷ Comfortable - Astarion walks in on you in a rather compromising situation. Naturally, he offers to help, but then you ask him to promise you something that he was not expecting…
(LINKS ARE CURRENTLY NOT WORKING - I'LL FIX THEM SOON 🙏)
MIGUEL O'HARA
✫ 18+:
⤷ Tension - Miguel walks in on you late at night doing something unexpected, which makes things really awkward afterwards…
⤷ For Science - There has been a rumour circulating in regards to Miguel’s venom. It has to be too far-fetched, right?
⤷ Intimacy - Lack of intimacy after childbirth can weigh a relationship down. Thankfully, Miguel always finds new ways to keep the spark alive.
⤷ Perfect Morning - Miguel’s definition of a perfect morning involves a comfortable bed and being buried deep inside you.
⤷ Comfort - Miguel has been having nightmares as of late and seeks a level of comfort only you can provide.
⤷ Breakfast in Bed - Miguel wakes you up to breakfast in bed.
⤷ Stress Relief - Peter B. Parker should know better than to swing by unannounced.
⤷ Sharing is Caring (I) - (II) - A mission has both Miguel and you sharing a room… what could possibly go wrong?
⤷ [COMPLETE] (0) Sweet Girl , (1) Frustration , (2) Suit Up , (3) Obsession , (4) Consequences , (5) Discovery , (6) Double-edged Sword , (7) Confession , (8) Devotion - Miguel’s desire for you has been taking a toll on him, and he really has no other option…
⤷ Second Intentions - You’ve been tense lately, and Miguel offers a massage. Quite thoughtful of him… except you know exactly why.
⤷ Tracking - You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.
⤷ Gentle - Miguel shows you how gentle he can be during your pregnancy and how worthy you are of it.
⤷ Backfire - The math is simple: you make Miguel jealous + push him past his breaking point = hot rough sex. Too bad Miguel doesn’t do simple.
⤷ Side Effect - Miguel has been acting off lately and you find out why… the hard way.
⤷ Stubborn - As far as you’re concerned, you just want to stay in bed all day, admiring Miguel’s glorious chest.
✫ Fluff/Comedy/Comfort/Hurt/Angst/Misc:
⤷ Memories - You are ready to tell Miguel he is going to be a father… but he isn’t.
⤷ Revelations - Miguel asks you to keep a secret, so naturally everyone is about to find out.
⤷ Solution - Period cramps always leave you feeling miserable, so Miguel offers a solution.
⤷ Tiny Spider - Your daughter has a few questions, and you suspect Miguel might just open a portal to another dimension.
⤷ Another Chance - You go into labour and all you know is that you need Miguel more than ever.
⤷ Broken - You wonder if Miguel is broken beyond repair, because he surely believes that.
⤷ Family - Miguel is a natural when it comes to being a father.
⤷ A Series of Firsts - You and Miguel are ready to become parents and you must now go through a series of firsts together.
⤷ Appreciation - Miguel catches you staring at a very specific part of his body…
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It's Hard to Believe | Jungkook One Shot
Summary: Getting pregnant with your best friend's baby definetly wasn't a part of the plan... Pairing: f!Reader x Jungkook (fwb, f2l) Word Count: 2.7k Warnings: A tiny bit of explicit and suggestive language but nothing crazy a/n: This is something I started writing at like midnight and it's kinda shit but I thought I might as well post it since I haven't posted in a while (Like five days short of a month wtf?!?!? How has it been that long?!?!) (I just barely checked rn lmao my bad 🥲) p.s. I kinda wanna do a full on series on a concept like this but it'll be different and less fluffy but that won't be happening for a long ass time but yeah lol Requested by a lovely anon 💜
"How am I supposed to tell him?" I ask my friend Sam for the millionth time since I found out. "Y/n just tell him. You guys have been friends for how long?" she asks and it's like I'm having deja vu from both of our responses. "Like ten years" I mumble and pull my sweatshirt sleeves down over my hands in an effort to stop my nervous fiddling but it only makes it worse.
"Right and you guys have been messing around with each other for over a year now, maybe even more...I don't wanna know" she says while holding her hand up in a way to assure me that she doesn't need the details. "Just tell him. If he's as great of a guy as you keep on telling me he is then I promise everything will be okay" she says and places a hand on my shoulder before she gets up off my couch.
"Where are you going?" I ask while she shrugs on her jacket. "Didn't you say he's supposed to be here around five?" she asks and I nod my head, checking the clock and seeing that it's already 4:30.
"Yeah...are you sure you don't wanna stay and say hi?" I ask and she glares at me. "Let me know what his response is to that bun in the oven and then we'll talk. I wanna figure out if he's an asshole or not before I decide to waste anytime on him" she says while lacing up her shoes.
"Promise me you'll tell him tonight?" she asks and lifts up her hood, getting ready to shield herself from the pouring rain outside. I nod my head reluctantly, that being way more progress than I've made for the past few weeks since I found out. "I promise" I utter under my breath and she smiles, pulling me in for a bone crushing hug.
"Text me if you need me" she says, worried for what might happen but hoping for the best. "I will...thanks" I whisper and she nods her head before walking out of my door and turning slightly and waving to offer me one last farewell.
I close the door after I see her get into her car and lean my back up against it, steadying myself for a second and taking deep breaths, trying to stop my racing heartbeat before pushing off of it and tidying up before Jungkook gets here to distract myself.
Sam has been the only one I've been able to count on and honestly the only person I can trust since I haven't told anyone else. She was the one I called when I missed my period and she's the one who brought me a pregnancy test...and then when out and bought me ten more because I couldn't actually grasp the concept that I was pregnant...am pregnant.
Jungkook and I have always been careful and taken all the necessary steps to keep this from happening but I guess we got careless this time.
Through out this whole arrangement we've made it very clear to each other that we're not sleeping with anyone else but neither of us are looking for any sort of commitment either so that's why this has gone on for so long.
Like it or not though we're going to be committed to each other in one way or another no matter what because I'm keeping this baby. No matter what he says I'm keeping them.
Jungkook is my best friend, the one person who has been there for me through everything. He's seen me at all of my highest highs and especially at my lowest lows and no matter what he's never made me feel shitty about it. I know he's not the kind of guy that'll turn on you because of something like this but I can't help but still feel terrified.
This wasn't supposed to happen but even if this child wasn't made with love from his side...it was made with love from mine.
I don't know how long it's been since I fell in love with him but I know I shouldn't have said yes to this whole fuck buddy ordeal. I just couldn't stand the thought of him being with someone else so when he offered up the idea I said yes.
I figured that if this was a way to prevent him from getting his heart broken by all those sorry excuses of girlfriends he's had in the past then I guess I'll be okay with breaking mine.
He's been acting different lately though. He's been a lot touchier, asking to come over more often, going out of his way to help me with things, offering to feed me all the time and all of it is making me feel like he already knows.
Does he know? Have I started showing already? I haven't really noticed a difference in my body yet but he looks at me naked a lot more often than I pay attention to myself naked so I mean I guess he could've noticed right?
Only one way to find out though...
A half an hour later I hear him take out his keys and unlock my door and soon I'm greeted with a smile that tugs at my heartstrings.
"Hi baby" he says, using that pet name he's become very fond of since this whole ordeal started. The sound of it after finding out I'm pregnant with his baby has made me a little uncomfortable though since I haven't told him yet.
Don't get me wrong I love it when he calls me that but I can't help but think that if this goes south that he won't ever call me that again.
Maybe the hormones have started to scramble my brain already because those uncomfortable feelings are quickly thrown away when I take in the sight of him after he shrugs off his rain coat. A simple black baggy hoodie and jeans engulf his form and the comfy sight just makes me want to curl up in bed with him and forget about everything and everyone.
Just him and I, it's always been him and I. I just don't know if this little one is going to change things.
I place a hand on my stomach for a second as a way to gain some strength from my itty bitty baby before finally working up the courage to greet him.
"Hi" I greet him softly, walking over to where he's stopped to take off his shoes and when he looks back up at me he smiles again and kisses me. I sigh into it, savoring it for just a little bit longer and when it finally breaks he looks down at me with concern now written all over his face.
"Are you okay?" he asks, sensing that something's off right away from the just the small change in the way I kissed him. I hesitate for a second then simply hold out my hand for him to take and he does, following behind me as I lead him over to my couch.
Getting this over with sooner rather than later is my best option right now so there's no reason to delay.
He needs to know, he deserves to know.
We sit there in silence, longer than he would like us to since I can tell how tense his body has gotten in a matter of minutes. "Y/n you're scaring me" he whispers, not wanting to pressure me but relaying his feelings.
I take a couple more deep breaths before finally starting. "I need you to listen to me and I need you to please not speak until I'm finished" I say while looking down at my lap, not being able to meet his eyes.
He murmurs a soft 'okay' and waits for me to continue, taking one of my hands and placing it in his lap. He needs some form of physical contact to keep him grounded since he's not too sure what to expect and I let him, knowing I need some reassurance too.
Even if I don't know what his reaction is gonna be, in this moment I need it more than ever.
"I guess there's really no right way to go about saying this because this wasn't supposed to happen so I'm just gonna come out and say it..." I start off and he squeezes my hand, encouraging me to keep going.
"I missed my period...over a month ago...and I haven't had it since then" I say and finally look up at him where he has an unsure expression. It's not one that's mad or disappointed with what I've said thus far which is a good thing but more like he's trying hard to hold himself back so he can keep that promise.
His hold on my hand hasn't loosened, in fact it's gotten even tighter and that gives me hope that we'll work this out so I take another deep breath before continuing.
"I tried to kid myself into thinking that it was late but when another week passed by I got nervous. I asked Sam to get me a test and it came out positive. I didn't believe it and thought it was a false positive and so to ease my mind she went a bought ten more from a bunch of different brands and...all of them came out positive" I say and he still looks at me with that same expression, waiting for me to give him the okay to speak and so I do.
"How long have you known?" are the first words out of his mouth and although they're not negative they aren't necessarily positive either. "About a month now" I say and he nods his head, taking another second or two to formulate what he's gonna say next.
"I'll support you no matter what you decide" he says and I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in. "I wanna keep it" I say and he nods his head and smiles softly at first and then as the seconds go by it gets wider and wider making my heart beat faster.
"Am I allowed to get excited now?" he whispers and I can't help but chuckle as tears start to prickle my eyes and give him a nod. "You're excited?" I say, my whole being slowly overcome with emotion.
"How could I not be?" he scoffs playfully but that answer has me confused. "But Jungkook we're not together. I mean we're not in a relationship, we're just friends" I explain and there's a playful glint in his eyes after I say that that's making me even more nervous.
"You wanna know what I thought you were gonna tell me?" he offers up, slightly changing topics but I look at him in a way to urge him to continue. "I thought you were gonna break up with me" he says and I smile, "Jungkook we're not together. How could I break up with you?" I chuckle in disbelief.
"Correction, I thought you were gonna break up with me before I even got the chance to ask you to be my girlfriend" he says with a grin and my jaw drops, the dots all connecting as to why he's been acting so different lately. "You were gonna ask me to be your girlfriend?" I utter quietly as if we were in a crowed room and I had a secret for just the two of us.
"I had actually planned on asking you tonight" he explains, walking over to where he had placed his backpack on the floor, taking out a bouquet of slightly squished flowers. "Sorry they're all beat up. I forgot and rode my bike over here so I didn't really have any other option but to put them in there" he says almost as if he was nervous, rubbing the back of his neck and it's then that I notice how pink his ears have gotten.
He is nervous
I take them from him and smile, waiting for him to say it but he simply stands there and admires me and I can't help but laugh. "What so funny? I told you what happened to them" he utters through pouty lips which only makes me laugh more. "No, no it's not the flowers it's just that...don't you have something to say?" I ask, calming down my chuckles and when he looks at me with the same confused expression I have to try my hardest to keep the laughter at bay.
"Do you have something you would like to ask me Jungkook" I rephrase it and after a second his lips go from a pout to the shape of an 'O' as he's figured it out. "Oh um, yeah, right. Well I um" he starts off, rubbing the back of his neck again while stuttering and trying to find the words and after struggling for a second I decide to poke fun at him again.
"Jungkook I am literally carrying your child and you're too afraid to ask me to be your girlfriend?" I laugh, giving him a slight reality check which he scoffs at before responding.
"I was trying to remember what I had rehearsed to say to you but now that you're being a little brat I guess you'll never get to know all the nice things I was gonna say" he retorts, his voice suddenly taking on a darker tone that sends a shiver through my body and he smirks when he sees my reaction to it.
He cups my face and rubs his thumb along my bottom lip, making them part and he leans in as if he was going to kiss me but stops just shy of my lips. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he whispers, nudging his nose against mine and making me smile.
"I'll have to think about that" I play coy with him which he chuckles at. "You know if you weren't pregnant right now I would have thrown you over my lap for that smart mouth" he warns and I smile before leaning in and kissing him for just a second before pulling back.
"Yes I'll be your girlfriend" I say and nudge my nose against his as well and before I can register it my back is on the couch and his lips are pressed against mine, the kiss not rushed but full of so many words that have yet to be said and he gives in, not being able to hold it in anymore.
"I love you" he says, pulling back and looking down at me to see my expression which is completely dumbfounded to say the least. "You what?" I ask and he chuckles, "Is it really that hard to believe?" he points out and I guess now that I think about it it really isn't.
"I guess we've both been in love with each other for a while now huh?" I smile and his eyes light up at my round about confession. "Say it" he says, and I can feel my cheeks heating up. I hadn't planned on actually saying those three words to him even though I've felt them for so long but I don't want to hold them back anymore.
"I love you" I whisper and he smiles, "Say it again" he repeats, clearly not believing it just yet. "I love you Jungkook" I say and the little switch up with attaching his name to the end darkens his gaze. "I guess there's no chance in me getting you pregnant a second time right now huh?" he asks, sliding his hand up my thigh and I giggle.
"No I think that's pretty much impossible but the odds are never zero" I say and he rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to tell you that I wanna hit it raw" he states the obvious while rolling his eyes. "I know I know...and the answer is yes Daddy" I tease, testing to see how that word affects him now that he knows.
He tongues his cheek at that making me bite my lip, knowing that's gonna be even more of a trigger word for him from now on. "Daddy huh? Well I guess that title is a little more fitting now isn't it?"
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#jungkook fanfic#jungkook#fanfic#fanfiction#kpop#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#bts#kpop fanfic#jungkook x reader#jungkook bts#jungkook x you#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#jungkook x original character#jungkook and you#jungkook and reader#bts fic
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Okay, I’m so gonna get hate for this. And it will probably get about 4 notes. This is, by far, the most opinionated thing I have ever posted on here. If you can’t tolerate criticism towards Rick Riordan, the books, or the TV show, please keep scrolling. My goal is NOT to change your mind or start arguments.
I also want to preface this by saying that I love and respect Rick Riordan (even if I disagree with him on things and don’t like some of his choices) and fully acknowledge that he has the right to do whatever the hell he pleases with his own series. I also want to say that I love Annabeth Chase (both the book and tv show version) with my entire being and you will never find me being an Annabeth hater. She’s my girl.
We good? Okay cool. So here’s the thing: I’ve seen a lot of people on here saying things like “If you didn’t like the books, you just don’t know how to have fun,” and “The new book haters are just mad that they aren’t the target audience anymore,” and (my personal favorite) “Nothing in the books has changed, only the readers have.”
And while I see your points, and I respect you, allow me to show you something. Because of the 10 picture limit, I am only going to focus on one specific change: Annabeth’s view of Percy.
WOTTG: Annabeth is surprised to be comforted by Percy
Past Books: Percy is constantly comforting Annabeth
WOTTG: Annabeth is shocked when Percy is smart
Past Books: Annabeth often points out that Percy is intelligent
WOTTG: Annabeth thinks Percy can’t do anything on his own, and Rick communicates that Annabeth is always saving his ass
Past Books: Percy is ALWAYS watching her back, and saving her ass just as much (and Annabeth admits that)
I could put a hundred quotes in here. I could go on and on and on. But I can’t, and I won’t.
My problem with this new book is NOT that it is more goofy than serious. My problem is NOT that little things have changed. My problem is NOT that it’s just for fun. My problem is NOT that it’s much more childish. (And by the way, I’ve read PJO and HOO as an adult, so it’s not like I was a child when I read everything else and am now an adult reading the new ones.) I really did like and enjoy many parts of this book.
My problem is that the characters (especially Annabeth) have flat out changed—in bad ways—and we have no choice but to accept it as canon. My problem is that Rick, while trying to merge his books with his new TV show project, is changing the entire personalities and past behaviors/ tendencies of the characters.
I loved Chalice of the Gods. You know why? It was fun, goofy, and showed the characters that we know and love being happy and adorable. I strongly dislike Wrath of the Triple Godess because the characters—no matter how adorable and happy they might be—are no longer the ones we know and love.
My problem is that Rick Riordan fully admitted that he no longer considers the old book characters when he writes the new books. He is now purposefully incorporating his own personal mixture of the book characters and tv characters and writing those versions instead. Because of his desire to change and transform the series, I doubt he’s even read the original PJO or HOO books in years, which is why everything is so inconsistent. The old book characters—the ones who made the series what it was—are gone. And that is not my opinion. Rick fully admits that he doesn’t imagine them when he writes anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE the tv show actors. I adore Walker and Leah and Aryan with my whole heart, and I wouldn’t trade them for anything. But the fact is: they will never be exactly like the book characters. It’s impossible for actors to become the words on a page. They’re their own unique version! And likewise, you cannot turn actors into print. It doesn’t work! And why would you try? The books versions were perfect as they were. And the disney kids need to make the characters their own. The two versions can exist side by side, equally as wonderful, and still be gloriously different. We should celebrate the uniqueness of both. But instead, Rick is attempting to merge them into one. And in my opinion, it’s just hurting them both. And I’m gonna get real brave by saying this, but do you want my honest prediction? If he keeps doing what he’s doing now, the TV show is going to get cancelled and the books are going to turn into a joke. I so, so badly hope that this doesn’t happen! I have loved Rick and PJO for many, many years. I badly want both to thrive. But what is going on right now… it is not working, no matter how much we all want it to. And speaking as someone who knows people in the TV/Film industry, I am sadly not the only one who thinks the show is gonna flop. Which is devastating, because Rick Riordan deserves a redemption on the big screen, and the incredible actors deserve to bring this series to life in a new way.
I am not trying to force my opinions onto anybody. You are welcome to disagree with me and move on. I am not saying that I’m right and you’re wrong. If you disagree, that’s okay. If you agree but you don’t have a problem with it, that’s okay. In fact if other people have literally no issues, that makes me somewhat happy. And if you loved the book, I’m honestly so stoked for you. Feel free to just keep on scrolling, my friend.
But me? I’m sad. I’m really, really freaking sad. And I’m a little angry too, even if I don’t have a right to be. I can’t help it because I’m only human. But this is how I—and a lot of other people—feel. And you know what? That’s okay too. Because the fact of the matter is:
Annabeth isn’t the same Annabeth anymore. And Percy isn’t the same Percy anymore. And it’s not because they went through trauma, or because time has passed. It’s because Rick Riordan doesn’t have any interest in writing those versions of them anymore. And I think the comparisons between the old and the new show that fact pretty clearly.
#okay i’m deleting tumblr now#i’m too scared for the hate so i will be absent lol#I PROMISE IM NOT TRYING TO DESTROY RICK I LOVE HIM#but i think he needs to be more loyal to the old fanbase that has been so loyal to him#or not that’s fine too#i could give you guys more book quotes#i could make a whole other post on how percy has changed#but i’m not sure anyone wants that#so for now i will try and shut up#wottg#wrath of the triple goddess#and run very very quickly#pjo#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#annabeth chase#percabeth#percy jackson and the olympians#rick riordan#riordanverse
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“Fallout TV show retconned New Vegas-“
Stop. Listen to me. Look me in the eyes. “Canon” isn’t real. I’m completely serious. It’s whatever you want it to be. This franchise is rooted in games where you literally choose what ending you want based on your actions. Please, please for the love of god tell me that this whole time some of you have not been deciding that in games with multiple endings there is actually one “real” ending and all the others are “not canon.” If you really want my opinion half the fun of this whole series is that EVERY SEQUENCE OF EVENTS IS EQUALLY “VALID.” It’s time to kill the Todd Howard in your head and realize that literally no one is stopping you from choosing what to believe is part of this series. Incorporate every game, including the ones that never got made and only exist as details on the wiki. Or don’t. Decide that only the first two games and New Vegas are real and pretend 3 & 4 don’t exist. Create a new timeline in your head where EVERYTHING happens BUT Fallout 3 and yet Fallout 4 still fucking happens. Incorporate the fan theories you like and disregard the ones you don’t. Add your headcanons. Just MAKE SHIT UP. It doesn’t fucking matter! And that’s beautiful!!!! War never changes but goddamn canon sure will, but only if you believe!!
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come one, come all
summary: percy jackson has finally arrived at camp half-blood, so why is he so shocked to see that people have genuine relationships here? aka, the four times percy thought you were dating luke, and the one time he actually asked.
word count: 3.2k
featuring: percy pov!!, 4+1, vaping (again), sassy man apocalypse in the form of luke castellan, reader straight up not giving a fuck, percabeth crumbs (but you gotta squint)
author's note: i am so sorry for the delay with this one!! i was studying for finals, but now that i'm home from college for the summer, hopefully the updates will be more frequent 🤞
series masterlist ||| previous ||| next
hermes cabin, day one, early afternoon
“this is the hermes cabin, home to both his children and the unclaimed,” chiron explains, walking up to the very loud and very rambunctious building.
percy peers inside, and he’s immediately filled with dread. there’s barely enough room in the cabin for the people that actually live there, let alone him. why couldn’t his father claim him already? if anything, percy thought losing his mother would have been enough; clearly it wasn’t. his dread only intensifies, however, when chiron starts clapping his hands, calling the attention of all the campers.
“woah wait a minute,” percy mumbles, but it’s too late.
“this is percy jackson, i trust you will see to whatever he needs,” chiron announces.
it takes the campers approximately two seconds to go back to whatever they were doing beforehand. some campers’ eyes linger a little bit longer on him, but for the most part, they’re all indifferent to his presence. finding a spot proves to be difficult, as every nook and cranny is inhabited.
“you can sleep over there,” a girl says, annoyed.
“thanks,” percy mumbles, but it falls on deaf ears.
the spot isn’t half bad, but it isn’t great either. he’s stuck in between two sets of bunk beds, on a sleeping bag. a sleeping bag. one would think the gods could splurge a little for an air mattress, but percy guesses they must be selfish, at least based on the signs of this cabin: overrun, overfilled, and underdeveloped. he’s unpacking his backpack, the last remnants of his life before his mom explained his paternal lineage, when the whispers start.
“that’s the kid. i think he’s the one that killed the minotaur,” someone whispers, or at least they try to, but percy hears the whole thing.
he turns around, and comes face to face with a group of older campers, all boys. they’ve clearly been here a while (in the hermes cabin, or at camp, percy isn’t sure) based solely on the fact that they’re so comfortable in this environment. a tall, curly black-haired boy steps forward, so percy stands up. he tries to size up the older boy, but if it comes to a fight, he doesn’t think he’ll win.
“look, if you guys want to start something, can you just…do it tomorrow?” he asks.
the older boy doesn’t say anything. instead, he just takes a moment to look at percy, up and down. percy’s breath catches in his throat when he catches sight of the long scar running from the corner of his right eye to his jaw. he’s intimidating, to say the least.
“i’m..” the boy starts to say, but he’s cut off by the sound of loud laughter.
percy turns to face the door, following the older boy’s lead, and sees two girls walk into the cabin. they’re both in workout gear, clearly just coming from a training session, but only one of them moves to drop her stuff on a bed — a bottom bunk in the left hand corner — and the other walks right up to the guy in front of him.
percy wants to warn her, tell her that she shouldn’t mess with this kid. but the grumpy guy smiles at her, completely forgetting about percy.
“busy day?” she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
“something like that,” the boy mumbles, throwing a sideways glance in percy’s direction.
“oh i see,” she answers slowly, and now both of their eyes are on him.
“luke treating you okay?” she asks.
percy gulps, unsure how to answer her. girls don’t really talk to him, but there’s a first time for everything, he understands that especially well now.
“he literally just got here,” luke says, shoving your shoulder.
you smile at the older boy, and there’s something more behind that stare, but percy can’t really figure out what.
“if he steps out of line, you let me know,” she instructs, jabbing her thumb in luke’s direction.
percy nods, “yeah sure.”
she smiles at him, before walking towards the exit of the cabin. as she’s at the threshold between the inside and the outdoors, she turns around with a mischievous look in her eyes.
“meet me later?” she asks.
“i’ll be there,” luke answers.
she nods, satisfied, and leaves. percy watches luke, who continues to watch her. his eyebrows furrow. maybe he just doesn’t understand teenagers?
hermes cabin, day two, morning
percy’s startled awake. the deep, guttural voice from his dream still haunting him. the darkness from the nightmare is looming over him like a dark cloud. his gasps and heavy breathing draw the attention of luke and his friends, the former leaving his bottom bunk to walk over to percy’s sleeping bag.
“you okay?” luke asks.
percy wonders if he’s genuinely concerned. “super,” he replies.
“we all get them, y’know. deep, intense nightmares. comes with being a demigod,” luke explains, watching percy struggle to get up from his bed.
“so does adhd and dyslexia. they’re your battle instincts talking. everything that’s made you different, an outcast, is normal here,” luke continues to explain, now standing toe to toe with percy.
there’s silence between the two. percy wants to ask him about his godly parent. it’s been weighing on him since he spoke with luke briefly yesterday. for some reason, however, he feels like the question is out of line, too personal for someone he just met.
yet, he can’t help himself: “so are you also…do you not know…are you…”
“am i unclaimed? no, hermes is my father, but that doesn’t matter. we’re all family here,” luke replies, giving percy’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
“and the girl from last night…is she…?” percy asks.
luke chuckles at his uncertainty, clearly finding humor in his embarrassing situation. “no. she knows who her mother is. you should ask her about it.”
percy nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. he feels angry all of a sudden looking around the hermes cabin. it’s filled to the brim with campers, some who know who their parents are, and others who don’t. he doesn’t think anyone should have to live like this; it’s not fair.
“how can the gods just bring us here and ignore us? how is that fair?” percy asks.
luke shakes his head, “spend all your time trying to figure out why the gods do what they do and you’ll go crazy. besides, you haven’t even experienced the best thing that camp has to offer.”
“what’s that?” percy asks.
“glory.”
percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. he vaguely remembers hearing mr. bruner, or chiron, talk about glory in class, but he can’t pinpoint the exact memory. the way luke talks about it, however, makes percy think that it must be important. there has to be some reason why everyone is fighting for glory, why they deal with all the dangers of being a demigod.
“demigods used to fight for glory. they called it kleos. it attaches meaning to your name, making you bigger, scarier, and more important,” luke explains, leading percy outside of the hermes cabin, along with a handful of his friends.
“it puts respect on your name,” luke’s friend, chris barges in.
percy’s smiles at that. he likes the sound of glory, especially when some girl shoulders past him, pushing his body right into luke’s. percy stumbles, turning to face the back of the girl. he wasn’t going to deal with this bullying crap at summer camp of all places.
“hey,” he shouts, getting her attention.
she turns around, immediately shoving him into the ground. percy gasps, staring up at her in shock, but before she can get a word in, the girl from last night is standing in front of him.
“knock it off clarisse. it’s like his first day,” luke mumbles.
the girl from last night helps him up, and he smiles at her in thanks. she nods, giving him a once over, ensuring that he’s okay before she turns back to clarisse. it’s like a switch flipped inside her. those same eyes, the ones showing kindness towards him just a mere second ago, are now filled with cold, hard, anger.
clarisse says something to taunt him, but the girl just shakes her head, crossing her arms against her chest.
“jealous that it wasn’t you?” she taunts, stepping into clarisse’s personal space.
“no,” clarisse snaps, facing the other girl head on.
“really? cause it sounds like you wish you were standing in his shoes right now. maybe then daddy would give you a little bit of attention, huh?” she replies.
luke whispers her name in a seething tone, hand pulling on her shoulder to move her away from clarisse. however, she jerks out of his grip, continuing to stare head on at the curly haired girl with a satisfied smirk playing at her lips.
“you better watch your back,” clarisse snaps, looking at percy once again before storming off.
“and you better watch yours,” the girl, who’s still standing in front of percy protectively answers.
clarisse doesn’t respond, and so luke takes the time to reprimand you. his voice is soft, and percy can barely hear, let alone register, the words coming out of his mouth. you roll your eyes at whatever he’s saying, barely paying attention. instead, percy notices that your eyes aren’t leaving luke’s lips, and he’s again left wondering what’s going on between the two of you.
“but if i wasn’t here, who was gonna play hero?” you ask, a soft pout on your lips.
percy can tell you’re teasing luke, trying to get a rise out of him, but the older boy just shakes his head in response. percy watches as your finger reaches under his bright orange shirt, looping through one of the belt loops of his cargoes. luke leans down slightly, and percy thinks he might kiss you, but you step away from him in a fit of giggles.
“i’ll see you later, counselor luke,” you tease, walking backwards so everyone can see the teasing smile on your face.
percy makes a mental note not to get on your bad side.
dining pavilion, day two, evening
“is there a greek god of disappointment, maybe someone should ask if he’s missing a kid,” percy grumbles, taking a seat at the table across from luke and chris.
after a long day of training, with little to no rewards, percy felt utterly defeated. there was some good that came out of the day’s events, however, as he realized his lack of coordination did not make him a strong candidate for the apollo cabin. similarly, setting fire to the already burning forges had luke and chris ruling out hephaestus. regardless, he just wanted his dad to recognize him. after a life of torment and the loss of his mom, the one person who loved him, he could use the validation.
luke opens his mouth, ready to answer his previous question, but chris beats him to it.
“oizys…but she’s a goddess and her whole thing isn’t really disappointment, it’s failure,” chris mumbles, pushing around the salad on his plate.
“oh my gods chris, don’t scare the kid,” you shout, shoving his shoulder as you take a seat next to percy.
another girl follows behind you, taking the seat on the other side of percy. he feels himself going rigid, why are these two older girls sitting by his side? he feels nervous all of a sudden, and wonders if this is normal. he looks nervously to luke, who seems to be the only one capable of providing actual guidance in these types of situations.
luke doesn’t say anything, instead he’s too busy looking at you.
“having daddy issues?” the girl on his right, who’s not you, asks.
“um i guess,” percy answers, but he’s not confident in his words at all.
the girl chuckles at him, a hand coming up to ruffle his blonde hair, and percy watches as her eyes twinkle with something akin to childish mischief.
“maybe you’re her step-brother,” she says, gesturing towards you with a tip of her chin.
“are you a child of aphrodite?” percy asks, because maybe this nice girl is referring to ares as his father.
you stop chewing your dinner, shock crossing your features. the other three teens all burst into laughter, and percy doesn’t understand what’s wrong with his question. you’re pretty enough, and you seem to possess a tiny bit of mean girl energy (cause only regina george would have demolished clarisse like that). therefore, the logical conclusion is that you’re related to aphrodite. besides, aren’t ares and aphrodite secretly dating? so he’d be your step-brother?
“what?” he asks, looking around.
“aphrodite is not my mother,” you answer, white-knuckling the fork.
“oh,” he says, “so who is?”
percy watches as your jaw clenches, and you flash a dangerous look in luke’s direction. luke lifts his hands up in a state of defense, as if to say that he didn’t put percy up to this. you, however, don’t seem to believe him as you take one of the green grapes on your plate and chuck it at him. luke catches the grape in his mouth, chewing slowly with a smirk on his face.
“almost sweetheart,” he taunts.
you scoff before getting up from the table, with your plate, and walking towards the firepit in the middle of the pavilion. on your way over, you stick your fingers through luke’s curls, and shove his face down towards his mashed potatoes.
“did i do something wrong?” he asks, looking at the remaining girl to his right.
“nah, she’s always like that,” she answers.
“yeah,” chris mumbles, “if anyone knows it’s katrina.”
they jump into their own conversation and percy watches as you drop your entire dinner into the fire pit. the flames turn a deep purple and you nod in satisfaction before walking off towards the cabins.
he can’t figure out who likes the color purple, but wonders if it had anything to do with luke. however, he knows not to ask.
hermes cabin, day two, night
percy was supposed to be asleep twenty minutes ago, at least that’s when luke called for lights out and everyone crawled into bed. but, he really needs to use the bathroom. poor planning on his part, not going before bed time, but he knows he’ll never make it until morning. so, he gets up as quietly as possible, slips on his blue hoodie, and tip-toes towards the door of the hermes cabin.
he hesitates for a moment, hearing two people talking quietly outside the door. he waits patiently, hoping that they’ll leave, but their conversation only keeps going.
“and annabeth’s sure about this?” someone asks, and percy realizes that it’s you.
the other person scoffs, “you doubting my sister?”, and percy pinpoints the voice as luke’s.
“never. i’m doubting him,” you answer.
“c’mon, you know clarisse picks on everybody,” luke mumbles.
there’s a pause in the conversation, and percy thinks maybe you’ve left or moved on, but then your voice rings out into the quiet of the night:
“i have this feeling that he’s important, but i can’t figure out why.”
another pause.
“we’ll see when he gets claimed,” luke answers.
“if he gets claimed,” you reply.
“he will, even if it’s hera style,” luke says, and percy can’t help himself from opening the door.
“your mom’s hera? i thought she didn’t have kids!” percy shouts, shocking both you and luke.
you jump, and percy watches as you move to hide the bright orange vape in your hand. you wave away some of the smoke, and luke steps slightly in front of you, blocking your body from percy’s view. he notices the protective edge in luke’s posture, and how there was already very little space between you two.
“what are you doing out past curfew?” luke asks, staring percy down.
“i could ask you the same thing, but for the record, i’m going to the bathroom,” percy explains, standing his guard.
“just be quick, and watch out for the harpies,” you advise, tugging on the back of luke’s camp counselor shirt.
percy nods before walking by the two of you to head down the stairs. once he’s a little ways away, he risks a glance back at the hermes cabin porch. you’re still standing there with luke, his palms resting on your waist as he rubs circles with his thumb on your exposed skin. you two are whispering about something, but he can’t figure out what. he sees you slip luke your vape, but looks away when the older boy takes a hit.
that seemed oddly intimate.
lakeshore, day three, post-capture the flag
he’s in for it now, at least that’s what he assumes when he sees half of clarisse’s spear in his fist. she screams loudly, and percy hopes that you’ll hear and come to his rescue. thankfully, his saving grace comes in the form of the head counselor of the hermes cabin.
luke comes rushing down the side lines, holding the red flag high above his head. several people are following him, the entire blue team in fact, but percy can easily pinpoint you in the crowd. you don’t have a helmet on, which isn’t surprising to him; it fits your character. he notices how the baby hairs stick to your sweaty forehead, yet your eyes are bright and happy. this has to be the happiest he’s seen you.
your eyes never leave luke, even as he accepts hugs, handshakes, and overall congratulations from the other members of the team. finally, after the novelty of winning wears off, and his siblings finally give luke some space, you walk over to him. you shoulder check him, causing him to stumble a little on his feet, but the happiness doesn’t leave either of your eyes.
percy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. you’re mean to luke, but you’re also not mean to luke.
“where’s my hug at?” luke asks, opening his arms wide for you.
you snort at him, shoving him backwards with a firm hand on his chestplate. luke doesn’t seem to mind, however, as his smile widens and he pulls off his helmet. he shakes his head back and forth, letting his curls loose after being confined for so long. percy watches you watch him, bottom lip between your teeth. luke opens his mouth, ready to say something, but you prevent him from even doing so. instead, you grab onto the brown leather straps of his armor, and pull his lips down to yours.
all the campers ring out in cheers. some of them even clap at the display of affection from the two of you.
“so they’re dating?” he asks no one in particular.
“yes,” annabeth answers from beside him.
he turns to look at her, understanding washing over him. you and luke are perfect for each other, balancing each other out. percy hopes he’ll find something like that with someone. he looks around camp, and his eyes land on annabeth, who magically appeared next to him.
“hey wait…were you here the whole time?” percy asks her, feeling a little angry that she basically watched him get his ass kicked by clarisse.
“percy,” she starts, “i’m really sorry about this,” and she pushes him into the water.
taglist: @percabethlvr @iwantahockeyhimbo @hottiewifeyyyy @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @maraschinocherry3 @used2beeeeee @harrysnovia @cami-is-reading @mxtokko @cxcilla @obxstiles
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan oneshot#luke castellan x you#luke castellan fic#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan fluff#pjo luke#all american bitch series#cobrakaisb writing
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L is for the way you look at me ─ alexia putellas x reader
part 1 of my l-o-v-e miniseries. full masterlist here!
in which: you meet Alexia through your work, but things take an unexpected turn
warnings: nothing i can think of, but there must be something with this being 9k words. so let me know if there's anything worth mentioning lol. fluffy though!
wc: 8.8k
an: put my whole writerussy in this series. it'll come out on a weekly basis, every sunday for the next 4 weeks. will run simultaneously with the rest of my christmas series! i hope you enjoy <3
Your tires kicked up some gravel as your car came to a halt on the parking spot next to the sports complex. You leaned your head back against the headrest and let out a deep sigh, letting the silence overcome you for a second. You bathed in the comfort of your own car and tried to come to your senses, before what would be one of the biggest moments in your professional career as an interior architect so far. Scratch that. Biggest moment, for sure. Nothing had ever been bigger or more important than this.
It was early January when you initially got the call from your boss. You were at home, working on some 3D blueprints for a new apartment complex that was being built in the city centre. Not your most exciting project, but that’s the price you paid for working in a metropolis like Barcelona. Deadlines coming thick and fast, it meant that you were severely overworked, but clients weren’t waiting. Residents weren’t waiting, either. So you worked. You worked early, worked late, worked at home, worked in the office. You’d always been career-oriented, though, so you were never going to complain, not with the opportunities your perseverance had given you already. But you wouldn’t have dared to dream about this next one, even in your wildest dreams.
Your phone shook you up from your thoughts, head deep in a few finishing touches on an elevator blueprint when your ringtone sounded through your apartment. You rolled and stretched your neck in a futile attempt to release some of the tension there, before picking up the device and bringing it to your ear.
“Y/n, I’m gonna get right down to business. I’ve got an opportunity for you that you’re not going to want to turn down.”
A combination of words you’d normally be very excited about, but with the amount of work you already had on your plate, you weren’t quite sure about that. Endless to-do lists were scattered around your apartment and you were already struggling to meet all the deadlines set, so taking something else up would definitely set you back for a good couple months on multiple projects. You pinched the bridge of your nose and took a deep breath before you replied, solely a hum.
“Look, I know you’re busy. You have a whole load on your plate right now, but if you take this, I’ll take care of the rest. We will redistribute the work. But this is once in a lifetime. And I want my best employee on it.”
You were taken aback by his words, your boss never one to willingly move work around from employee to employee once a project had been started. Your interest was piqued, so you decided to bite.
“Alright, you got me. Shoot.”
“We’ve been asked to design a new training complex for the Barcelona Women’s team.”
-
The best part of 8 months later, here you finally were. Sat outside the complex, in your car, taking a couple more moments before throwing yourself in the deep end. You had worked relentlessly on this project. If you thought you were working hard before, you’d found a new gear that left all your previous years in your professional career in the dust. You were the only designer on the project, meaning that a lot of the work fell on your shoulders and yours only in the initial phases of the process.
You were fatigued, from a lack of sleep as much as physically. You couldn’t remember how many all-nighters you pulled in trying to get the design over the line by the deadline. You experienced heightened anxiety and stress over the course of multiple months, only adding to the already overbearingly heavy weight on your shoulders. You got obsessive with it, as you always did, danced on the brink of a burn-out at some points, but you promised yourself it would pay off. Nothing would ever come close to the feeling of professional success. And you hoped, for the love of God, that you could deliver tonight. That everyone was happy with the complex, that your tour would go seamlessly, and that you had another thing to tick off in your long bucket-list of working as an interior architect. You took a couple more composing breaths in the driver seat of your car, checking your appearance a final time and attempted yourself at a pep-talk before you opened the door of your car and stepped out into the heat of the Spanish capital.
You’d seen it before, given the tour to your imaginary guests more often than you could count, but now, in Barcelona’s glistening afternoon sun, it really came into its own. The complex stands tall, but it exudes a sense of openness. It’s large, commanding, but not intimidating. Towering windows scratch across its surface, a feature that you’d grown to love across your visits to the facility. It allows plenty of natural light to pour in, the building strategically positioned so it would catch most of the afternoon sun. The entrance is wide, inviting, but nothing short of impressive. A set of smooth, glass doors that reach high, transparent so they give you a view of the lobby. The first feeling that comes over you is relief. You had seen the structure plenty of times, but with the prospect of having to guide the clients around later, it’s reassuring that you still feel excited and accomplished about your work. You approach the building, deciding to wait for the rest of your clients by the entrance.
You didn’t have to wait long, two black Cupras soon arriving at the facility after you made your way over. You weren’t fully aware how many people of the club were going to be present, but you’d tried to prepare yourself. Nine people though, that was kind of cutting it. Five people exited the first vehicle, another four quickly following short out of the other. Nine. If you weren’t nervous before, you surely were then.
The introductions went by in a flurry, but you tried your absolute best to remember the name and functions of every suited or dressed man or woman that had just shook your hand. Joan, president of the club. Pere, head coach. Marc, financial director. Lucia, facilities manager. There was one amongst them, though, that didn’t need an introduction. Not to you. Not to anyone. And really, it shouldn’t have been a surprise to you that they brought a player. If anyone has to approve of the facilities, it’s the players themselves.
“Alexia. Nice to meet you.” “Y/n. Likewise.”
She gave you a firm handshake, her eyes holding yours just a second too long, and you swear, you could feel it—that spark, that something. But before you could question it, she’d already let go of your hand and joined the rest of her people. You were well aware who she was, well aware of what she meant in the world of football, but you weren’t taken aback. It was nothing more than a crossover between two people doing their jobs, and you weren’t gonna have someone like her intimidate you and throw you off your path for the rest of the afternoon. Not with the importance of this project for the future of your career.
You clapped your hands when everyone seemed to have taken their first looks at the building from the inside. “Okay! Shall we?” You mustered up the brightest smile you had in your locker, silently wishing that the nerves would settle down as soon as you got into your element inside.
“Okay, so, the main entrance. I didn’t want to have too much going on in here, more going for a calm atmosphere. Reception in the middle, and then there’s really only one hall here, leading you towards the rest of the facility.”
The entrance was, as you described, calm. It had some lounge seats here and there but you couldn’t imagine many people spending lots of time here, so you kept the extras limited. A few acknowledging and appreciating hums from your tiny crowd sent you on your way, your nerves slowly but surely ebbing away.
You slowly guided your guests towards the hallway, letting them take in the interior and space for as long as they wanted until they seemed ready to continue the tour. “On the left, first and foremost, the changing room. I thought it was handy for it to be near the entrance, as most of the players probably come straight here after arriving.”
You push open the double doors to the room, stepping aside and allowing the others to step in first. “As you can see, a large and accordingly illuminated space with rows of lockers, personalized for each player. Each locker has a charging station, storage for gear, and adjustable lighting, because who doesn’t hate bad lighting when trying to focus before a game?”
For the first time during the tour, someone spoke up then, and it wasn’t who you’d expect to take the floor first. “I’ll admit, I’m guilty of using mine as a mini closet sometimes. Good call with the extra storage.” Alexia’s admission caused some lighthearted laughs and chatter to rise from the small group of people, and you almost felt grateful for her comment. “I’m glad.” You mustered up a small but sincere smile, before turning back around and continuing your work.
You gestured towards the wall that wasn’t adorned with lockers. “The screens on here are meant for displaying tactics, team news, and whatever else you guys get up to on a day-to-day basis.” You were really coming into yourself and started to forget about the nerves of the moment. You were in your element, you were doing what you liked, what you had been doing for the past 7 years of your life. You weren’t gonna mess this up.
“Of course, showers are tucked around the corner. Communal shower room, as I’m sure you’re all familiar with. Physio beds, and everything else you would need for pre-activation before training are around the other corner. To integrate some options for relaxation, there are also some sofas in that room. I don’t know to which extent they will be used, but they’re there.”
Right as you were about to lead the group back out towards the next room, Pere spoke up. “I like the adjustable lighting. I think it’s something we struggled with at our previous facility. It was quite bright, and sometimes that’s not the vibe you want to create for your players. They need calm, especially after a training session. Good work on that one.” The man offered you a sincere smile and rested his hand on your shoulder for a split second, and you felt all warm inside at the acknowledgement of your work. You took it in your stride and continued the tour.
“Taking a left outside the locker room and moving down the hallway, it’ll take you into the tactical room. Meeting room, briefing room, whatever you want to call it. This room is more dimly lit, with one singular big screen on the wall for video analysis, powerpoint presentations, and so on. I think there’s about 30 seats, but I wasn’t quite sure on how many there would need to be, so if you need any more I can take care of those too.”
Pere and Alexia shared a look, before letting you know that 30 would be enough. “Now, moving on through the room, I designed a second section with more of a discussion place in mind. I opted for a round table, rather than a rectangular shape, because I feel like it invites more participation. A couple whiteboards here and there, but I’m sure you guys will find your own ways to use this room to your own liking.”
“There’s one thing, though, and I’m quite proud of that, if I may say so myself. One of these walls,” you started, tapping your finger on the back wall of the discussion room, “is a writable wall. You can write, pin notes, whatever you might need to brainstorm about your tactics.”
Pere’s voice sounded through the room as you finished your explanation. “So, Ale, no more scribbling on napkins during tactical meetings, huh?” You finally realized why one of your colleagues on the project was adamant about a certain type of soundproof walls for the room, because you were now grateful for the great acoustics as Alexia’s laugh sounded through the place. Suddenly, you noticed that one of the chairs around the table was slightly out of place. Your need for perfectionism rose up and as much as you wanted to leave it, to not fuss about a small detail like that, you couldn’t help yourself.
“Sorry, this chair is bothering me. Details matter, especially in places like these. Athletes notice more than they think they do.” You didn’t direct your statement towards anyone, but weren’t exactly surprised either when you heard Alexia’s voice in response. “We do? I just thought we used these rooms to throw our stuff around,” the Spaniard said with an amused, infuriatingly attractive smirk on her face. It was your turn to laugh now, and you weren’t the only one grateful anymore for the acoustics of the room.
You answered a couple questions and scribbled down a couple more suggestions from the rest of the staff, before making your way out of the discussion room and moving back towards the hallway. “Now, crossing the hallway, this is the treatment room.” There’s a calm atmosphere in the room, the soft hum of the lights the only sound as your clients take in their surroundings. “Plenty of massage tables in the middle of the room, some more space for pre-activation, shelves stretched across the walls with recovery tools. Around the corner, there’s a multifunctional hydrotherapy pool and an ice bath. These adjustable lights mimic natural daylight to help with recovery. I wanted to create a space where your body and mind can unwind together.”
“I imagine you will spend lots of your time here,” you smiled, gesturing towards one of the women that presented herself as one of the club’s physiotherapists.
“Yeah, this will be my safe haven. It’s great, honestly, better than I ever imagined. I was thinking whether there was something missing, but I can’t think of anything. You did great work.” You shot the woman, whose name you’d already forgotten, a bright smile and thanked her for the compliment. The moment was soon lost on you as you heard someone clear their throat.
“Yes, Alexia?” It was the first time you’d called the Barcelona captain by her first name that afternoon, and you were surprised at the ease it rolled off your tongue with. If Alexia was taken aback, she didn’t show it. “I’m gonna be annoying for a second. Wouldn’t it be tough for someone injured to reach that?” She pointed at the top shelves, where some of the recovery tools were stacked. You took a moment to yourself to think about her comment, before giving her a slight smile and nodding. “You’re right, thank you for noticing that.” You took out your notepad and scribbled something down, adding an exclamation mark or 5 to convey the importance of the task. The rest of the group had already moved back to the hallway, leaving you and Alexia to yourself for a little moment. You didn’t know where the flurry of confidence came from, but you grabbed it with both hands before it could slip away, leading to your next comment. “Good catch, captain.” Alexia grinned, a twinkle in her eyes as she met yours.
“You’re the expert, not me.” “Well, you’re the professional footballer amongst the two of us, so I think I could learn a thing or two still about the design of team facilities.” “You’re doing more than a good job so far. I’m positively surprised.”
You got pulled back to reality when you heard a laugh coming through the door from the hallway, reminding you of the fact that you were still working, still having to uphold a professional persona and make sure that the tour went well. This wasn’t the time and place to be making much small talk, let alone flirting. Could you even call it that? “Let’s move on, yeah?”
You lead your clients down the hall, opening the double doors that would lead to the gym. The space was just as you’d imagined it, and hearing the noises of appreciation from the people behind you, you knew you’d done a good job.
“I think this speaks for itself, really. Not entirely my area of expertise, not really one for dumbbells or barbells, but I think I got everything covered here,” you chuckled. “Resistance machines, cardio equipment, dumbbells, barbells and kettlebells. There’s also an area for stretching and functional training near the back of the room. I wanted this to be big, spacious, allowing lots of natural light in, because I know half of the training days are spent here. People tend to forget that.”
“Dios mio, Pere, if I’m ever missing, just come find me in here. This place is a dream come true,” you heard Alexia say from across the room, letting her eyes rake over the abundance of equipment that was scattered all around the gym. You crossed the room and joined her, following her movements with your eyes as she explored more of the gym. “I think this wall here needs some more Barca colors, no?” You scoffed and shook your head slightly, but pulled out your notepad nonetheless. “Noted, but I think you’re biased. Lucky for you, I like your bias.” Alexia tilted her head at that. “Does that mean I get to say in the rest of the design too?” You knew what she was doing. And it was so wrong for you to be giving into it in this professional context, but the woman across from you was enticing and you couldn’t help but be flattered at the way she seemed to be flirting with you. “Now, don’t push your luck, Putellas.” With that, you turned on your heels and made your way back towards the front of the room, not wanting to give Alexia the satisfaction of seeing the crimson red color your cheeks had turned at the small interaction.
“Well, I think we’ve got one final room, then.” You lead your guests back through the doors of the gym. “Taking a right here, you’ll end up in the team lounge. A cozy space for bonding, relaxing, whatever you guys want to do here. There’s a coffee station, entertainment options like games and a big screen, beanbags scattered around the room, but you can fill it in the way you want, really. There’s lots of flexibility with this space.”
“A coffee station? That’s going to make you a lot of friends around here,” the ever-familiar voice behind you commented. “Honestly, the caffeine might be the most important design element in this building.”
You pointed at the seating arrangement. “I went for modular sofas so you can switch between team bonding sessions and personal space. As I said, I went for flexibility here.” Pere caught up to where you were walking and put his hand on your shoulder, just as he did earlier during the tour. “You thought of all the details, huh? Most people wouldn’t notice things like that.” You shrugged off the compliment. “It’s all in the details, I bet you know that just as well as I do.” The coach let out a warm laugh and you couldn’t help but feel accomplished, it meant the world to you that him and one of the most important players in his team felt right within the facility and were impressed with your designs.
“As for different rooms, that was it for the tour. The pitches are outside, but there’s nothing special about those. Feel free to check them out if you want. I’m gonna let you all wander around a bit now, and if you have any questions or remarks, please come to me. I’m all ears and I’m very open to feedback. I hope you’re all satisfied, though, because this project meant a lot to me and I can’t begin to express how grateful I am to have received this opportunity.”
What happened next, was the last thing you’d expected. The room went silent for a second, until you could hear a couple slow claps sounding through the room. They came from Alexia, who was ushering the other people in the room to give you an applause. Her colleagues followed shortly, and soon the room was filled with the sound of their clapping, all smiling brightly at you and sharing laughs with one another. You felt grateful, overwhelmed by your emotions, but you felt a huge weight fall off your shoulders at the acknowledgement.
It wasn’t until a couple minutes later, that Alexia found herself next to you again. Most of the people had wandered back through the corridors, checking out the rooms at their own pace. “So, how long did it take you to design this?” Alexia fell in step with you as you walked through the gym, mustering up ideas for the remark the Spaniard gave you earlier. “Uh, about 4 months for the main sections, and then a few extra weeks for the final touches. And then, a waiting game while it was being built. It’s a bit of a balancing act, you know?” Alexia smiled faintly at you before responding. “I imagine. It sounds like a lot, but it seems like you’ve got everything under control.” “I try to.”
It was about half an hour later, when you all found yourself back at the entrance. You received another couple compliments from several staff members that had come along, and it felt like every single one bolstered your outside a bit more and more, upping your confidence with each one, taking them all in your stride. You’d been nervous for this, had worked countless hours, days, weeks on this project, but it all felt worth it. It was the biggest project you’d ever worked on, but it turned out perfectly and you couldn’t have wished for a better outcome.
The sun had started to set over Barcelona now, golden hour casting the building in rays of orange. It felt symbolic, a perfect ending to what had been a greatly successful afternoon. Alexia had noticed your passion for your work throughout the tour, and it was safe to say that she admired it. “You care a lot about getting things right, don’t you?” “Of course. It’s important.” “It feels right… you being here. You doing this. I feel like you understand this place.”
Alexia’s words came right from the heart, her voice growing soft as she uttered the final couple words, and you felt a fuzzy feeling coursing through your body at the admission. You raised your eyes at her, curious where the sudden comment had come from. Alexia picked up on this, explaining herself further.
“Your dedication to your work, it just resonates with my dedication to mine. The team’s dedication. It feels good, this.” You weren’t sure what she was talking about anymore, whether that be the building, your commitment, or just this–– the situation you two found yourself in at the moment. You’d tried to keep up your professional demeanor throughout the tour, but the more heartfelt comments Alexia threw your way, the harder you found it to keep up the snarky remarks or shrugging off whatever she said.
“I don’t know the word… it’s like when you do something that makes sense, like…” “Purpose?” “Yeah, purpose.”
Alexia grew bashful quickly, a shy smile covering her face. “Sorry, my English isn’t quite there yet.” You waved away her apology and were grateful for the change of tone in the conversation, not quite sure you would be able to keep up your persona had she gotten much more open with you.
“Look, I have to go now. I can sense Pero is growing impatient in the car. But, look, uhm, I like how you understand this place. Would you maybe,” she clears her throat and looks down to the ground before finishing her sentence, “want to grab a coffee with me sometime?”
You should’ve expected it, really. The way she was throwing not-so-subtle flirty remarks at you throughout the tour, her demeanor growing in confidence the longer time went on, you should’ve known this was coming. Still, it swept you completely off your feet, and quite frankly, speechless. There wasn’t a single cell in your body that thought of denying her request. But somewhere, in the back of your mind, a little rational voice sounded, saying that you had to be professional. This was your work, her work, and mixing work and dates was never a good idea. So you took a deep breath, meeting her eyes again before you gave her the answer she probably wouldn’t have expected.
“Alexia, I’d love to. But, this is a professional work context.” Alexia cocked an eyebrow at you, a small smile hinting on one corner of her mouth, and you couldn’t help the confusion that came across you. “Guapa, you are the one assuming that we are going on a date. I proposed it just to, you know, discuss insights about the building.” Your cheeks burned bright red at her words, and there was no way to escape the situation now. The taller woman in front of you let out a laugh, throwing her head back and if it weren’t for the twinkle of adoration in her eyes when her gaze met yours again, you would’ve thought she was laughing at you. “No, I get you. But look, I’ll make it worth your while. Just give me one chance, okay? You can’t deny the… how do you say, chemistry?” You nodded bashfully at the Spaniard, knowing she was completely right. You had tried your hardest to remain professional, but it grew harder and harder not to open up more of yourself to the footballer. “Look, if you don’t want a coffee, how about you come to the game tomorrow? You’ve done so much for us, you should come see what you’ve worked for these past couple months. My family can’t make it this week, so I’ve got plenty of tickets for you and anyone else you want to bring.”
That sounded like a better suggestion, all in all. If anything, you could now paint it down as just a friendly invitation to thank you for your work, and you didn’t have to think of it as a date. Although, even with what you said, you weren’t opposed to that idea either. “That sounds fair. You owe me a good performance, though” you quipped back, not letting her off the hook that easily. She had made you blush, but you weren’t gonna let her walk over you like that. “Only if you come to dinner after.” And just like that, she’d turned the whole situation around again. Infuriating. Infuriatingly attractive. “We’ll see.”
-
You struggle on deciding what to wear that day. Torn between trying to look put-together and not wanting to look like you’re trying too hard, you eventually settle on something practical but nice– enough to look professional, but not too casual. Because in the end, it’s just a game, right? Just Alexia Putellas casually inviting you to see her in her element, no big deal. And dinner. Maybe.
The journey to the stadium went smoother than expected. You’d left more than early enough, and had just about beat the flurry of afternoon traffic, as you arrived at Estadi Johan Cruyff. This is as far as outsides of comfort zones went. This was not your usual surroundings. You were a homebody, either working or relaxing, you weren’t one for the big events. Let alone sporting events. You weren’t at home in this setting, but you couldn’t help but feel an excitement bubbling up inside you as you noticed the heaps of fans dressed in blaugrana jerseys, waving flags and scarves, all coming to see their idols on a sunbathed afternoon in the Spanish capital. Nerves bubble up the closer you get to the stadium, and you tried to ground yourself by taking a couple deep breaths before taking the plunge.
You’d remembered the instructions Alexia sent you over text on how to get to her friends and family box. She asked for your number at some point that day before, and brushed it off as practicality for today’s game, but you knew somewhere that that wasn’t the last time you’d hear of her. The moment you arrive in her box overwhelms you. There’s a couple other people, and you get a sudden burst of nerves thinking about having to introduce you as… well, as what? The interior architect of her new team facilities? You were well aware of how weird that sounded. But they paid you no mind, so you thanked your lucky stars when you found your seat without all too much fuss and settled down for the next couple hours.
The crowd, the noise, there was a buzzing atmosphere around the stadium and it was such a stark contrast to the environment you’d been in yesterday. The stadium felt alive. As much as you weren’t a football or sports fan in general, you finally understood why people liked going to games. You took in your environment, scanning the crowd. A man singing at the top of his lungs, seemingly the person that needed to get the chants going. A little girl in a jersey three sizes too big, on her father’s shoulders, holding a sign that said: “Alexia, mi heroina”. A group of teenagers finding their seats right underneath the box, faces painted with stripes, yelling things you didn’t quite understand, because God forbid you were consistent with your Spanish classes. A mixed smell of popcorn, churros and questionable hotdogs suddenly hit you like a wall. It was chaos, but it seemed like the people here thrived on it. Suddenly, you couldn’t believe having missed out on this element of the city for so long. Of course, you were well aware that Barcelona had two successful, thriving first teams. You just couldn’t be bothered. Now, though, it felt like your whole world had turned upside down at the revelation of how fun this was.
As much as Alexia insisted on you bringing someone, for your own company, you didn’t. It felt too much like using her, not wanting to overstep boundaries on this first meeting. Second, in theory. But now, as you were sat here in the stadium, crowd so loud their hum vibrated in your chest, maybe you wouldn’t have minded someone else here to share the experience with. Then again, bringing someone would’ve made this feel more like a… thing. And you didn’t know whether you were ready to accept this being a thing, yet. Your thoughts circled back to Alexia, the woman you were here for in the first place. Would she be nervous now? Of course not. She was in the locker room right now, already zoned in and focused. Professional. Unlike you, who was sitting here, overthinking what a stupid invitation to a game might mean. Still, there was something about being here– her stadium, her world, that made you feel closer to her. Like it was a glimpse into the pieces of herself she didn’t give away so easily. They were all here for her, but you were invited by her. It felt different.
What you didn’t expect, at all, was your phone to chime with a message from her.
From: Alexia You here yet?
You quickly typed back a response, figuring she didn’t have much time to be on her phone. They were due for warm-ups anytime soon now.
To: Alexia: Yeah, just found my seat. Thank you :) It’s chaos out here, damn
From: Alexia Good chaos. You’ll see. Enjoy it, I’ll find you after
It’s as if Alexia’s words had a soothing effect on you, because as soon as you tucked your phone back away you relaxed, sitting back against your seat and letting the experience roll over you.
The Barca girls came out for warm-ups, and you couldn’t help but admire them. The players moved across the pitch with this kind of effortless precision that made it all look simple, though you knew it wasn’t. You couldn’t tell who was who at first, not even you lack of football knowledge, but there were so many of them, a blur of navy shorts and bright orange bibs weaving in and out of each other as the ball zipped between them.
You weren’t looking for her. At least, you told yourself you weren’t. But somehow, your eyes kept finding her anyway. You caught a flash of blonde hair and noticed the distinctive way she carried herself on the pitch. She wasn’t doing anything else than the others– passing, moving, stretching. But she stood out. There was something about her, even from a distance, a pull you couldn’t quite explain. It was like your eyes gravitated towards her naturally, without you guiding them.
The Alexia you’d walked the tour with, who’d thrown you teasing smiles and leaned a little too close when you said goodbye, was gone. Out here, she was something entirely different�� serious, focused, untouchable. She hadn’t looked up once, her eyes not searching yours, and you would feel apprehensive about it if you didn’t remember the look she had in her eyes when she invited you. After all, why would she? She had a job to do. This was her thing, as much as yesterday was yours.
You weren’t the only one watching her, obviously. You could hear little bursts of her name from the fans sitting nearby, the occasional shriek of excitement when she touched the ball during a drill. She was theirs and they were hers in a way I couldn’t quite wrap my head around, but it was beautiful. Alexia is Barca and Barca is Alexia, right?
It wasn’t long then until the game started, you got lost in your own thoughts a little bit and you were now mere seconds away from kick-off. The pitch looked impossibly green under the floodlights– that were turned on way too early, but you guessed it was better to be safe than sorry. Players were scattered around it, waiting for the signal from the referee that they could get their game going. The energy of the crowd built like a wave, rolling through the stands. People were on their feet, clapping, yelling. You didn’t know the chants, but you felt a tingle inside of you urging you to clap along, the energy of the crowd too enticing not to.
As the whistle blew to signal kick-off, the energy in the stadium shifted. You didn’t expect it to hit you like that, the way the crowd seemed to breathe, shift, move as one organism. It was overwhelming in the best way. You weren’t here to watch anyone in particular, you told yourself. You were just going to enjoy the experience, the place, to see it all in action. But once again, as soon as the ball was in play, you found yourself watching her. Tracking the way she moved, the way she gracefully handled the ball, the way she always seemed two steps ahead of everyone else.
Out here, she was undeniable. There was a precision to the way she played, a quiet authority that made it impossible to look away. It wasn’t just that she was good– and realistically, that played a huge part, it was the way she made everything look so effortless, like she’d orchestrated the entire game in her head before anyone else knew what was happening.
You were deep into the first half when the play stalled, and for the first time all game, the noise of the crowd dulled in your ears. Alexia was in the middle of the action, barking instructions to her teammates– sharp, no-nonsense commands you couldn’t hear from up there but you could feel all the same. Her gestures were deliberate, decisive, and when she pointed towards the flank, her teammates took off without hesitation.
There was something magnetic about it, about the way she owned the field without ever raising her voice too much, the way her team fell in line like clockwork because she was the one pulling the strings. Captain’s armband snug around her bicep, confidence looked good on her. It wasn’t flashy or loud, but it was undeniable.
Your eyes lingered on her a little longer than they should have, when play resumed. The way her jersey clung to her shoulders and arms wasn’t helping either. You shifted in your seat, tearing your gaze away, but the thought was already there, uninvited and impossible to ignore. You’d listen to whatever she told you to do too.
Heat rushed to your face at the realization so quickly it nearly made you feel dizzy. Nope. Absolutely not. You took a deep breath and focused back on the game, on the fluid football that was being portrayed by the girls in blaugrana. Professional. You are professional. And you are definitely not thinking about what it would be like to hear that voice closer. Louder. DIrected at you.
Saved by the bell. Or the half-time whistle. Saved by something, thank God. That’s what you thought. As the players made their way toward the tunnel, your eyes found her again. She was talking to one of her teammates, gesturing animatedly about something, but just before she disappeared into the tunnel, she glanced towards her box. It was quick, so quick you almost missed it, but your heart skipped a beat anyway. You told yourself she wasn’t looking for you. Why would she?
During half-time, a kid sitting a couple rows in front of you caught your eye. He was shouting all of the players names, his little voice full of excitement. He was waving a jersey, one with the number 4 on the back, and even though they couldn’t hear him right now, tucked away in the building, it struck you how loved they all were. How much they all meant to these people. You caught yourself smiling at the kid’s enthusiasm. At the player’s impact. It was hard not to feel drawn into it.
The second half went by quicker than the first. You’d settled, and you were starting to feel more like yourself the more time went on. Barcelona scored thrice in the second half, effectively beating their opponents 3-0. Alexia hadn’t scored, but she’d assisted the final goal and you felt a weird sense of pride overcome you as her cross was headed in by one of her teammates. The final whistle pierced the air, and with it came an eruption of cheers from the stands. Another win, another three points, and they deserved every ounce of the applause raining down on them.
Alexia didn’t jump into the celebration like some of her teammates did, instead staying composed as she clapped for the fans along with her friends, her captain’s demeanor shining through even in victory. For a second, she looked toward the family box, her gaze skimming across the seats. You thought to yourself that she might be looking for you, but as soon as it arose, you brushed it away, even though your stomach fluttered at the thought.
And then, like she’d heard your internal thoughts, answering the unspoken question, she lifted a hand in a small wave. Subtle, unnoticeable for anyone that wasn’t watching, but it was definitely there. You gave her a small wave back, and you wondered if anyone had noticed the small interaction between the two of you. This wasn’t the time to raise any suspicions, and even though no one’s eyes were on you, you felt like a spotlight had just been shone directly on you. You thought that was gonna be it, but then she stepped away from the group of her teammates for a second, and made a phonecall motion with her hands. You gave her a thumbs up in response, in hindsight probably not the most flattering thing, but it would do the job.
It wasn’t long after the team disappeared back into the tunnel that your phone buzzed in the pocket of your jacket.
From: Alexia I’m gonna get a quick shower, but I want to see you :) Meet me outside by the parking lot in 20 minutes?
A bashful smile grew on your face as you read her text, the casual tone doing little to mask the effect it had on you.
To: Alexia Yes, of course! Just gotta tell me how to get there
Alexia sent you on your way with a couple directions and off you went, not bothering to wait another 20 minutes in your seat, trying to avoid any possibility of you being late in the parking lot. The chill of the evening air hit you as you stepped outside of the stadium, as if inside there was a personal bubble of warmth created for the team. You crossed the main parking lot, that was surprisingly quiet. Most fans still lingering inside or making their way out through the main exits.
Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the meeting spot, a secluded parking are for the players. It was even quieter there, and every little sound seemed amplified in your ears.
Alexia took 17 minutes after sending you her post-match text. Not that you had been counting, or anything. She stepped out of the building, freshly showered and dressed in a Barca tracksuit. Her confident and vibrant energy from the pitch faltered slightly, but you still warmed up at the sight of her. Her hair still damp from her shower, duffle bag slung over her shoulder, walking over to you with an easy stride, as if she’d done this a thousand times before. She broke out in a wide smile as she approached you.
“Hey,” she started, her voice low and warm, “thanks for waiting.” You chuckled and waved away her comment, a little awkward silence forming between the two of you that you tried not to get in your head about, before making a remark about the game. “You played well. All of you, really. It was… impressive to watch. Thank you for the ticket.”
“Are you saying that because you mean it, or because I’m standing here?” Alexia teased. She hadn’t changed a single thing from her demeanor yesterday, still as flirty and making teasing remarks. “Maybe both.” Alexia let out a soft laugh, and even without soundproof walls and good acoustics, it still wrapped around you like a warm blanket in the chilly evening air.
She grew sincere then, her eyes softening a bit. “Hey, thanks for coming. I wasn’t sure you would.” You were taken aback a little by her words, a little sense of insecurity creeping through her voice. “Honestly, for a long time I wasn’t sure either, but I’m glad I did. It just… didn’t know if I should.” The Barcelona captain frowned at that, tilting her head slightly. “Why not?” You knew the question was coming, so you shrugged and gave her your response with a small smile on your face.
“Maybe because this feels… I don’t know, different? You’re… you.” “I’m me?” “You’re Alexia Putellas. Everyone in that stadium was looking at you tonight. And now here I am, standing in a parking lot with you, wondering why you’d want to see me of all people.” “And yet, here you are. Doesn’t that say something?”
You locked eyes for a moment, a brief pause in the conversation and the air between you both changed with unspoken words. Alexia’s expression softens further, her confident demeanor giving way for something vulnerable, something you hadn’t seen about her yet.
“Maybe I don’t want to be Alexia Putellas all the time, you know? It gets quite tiring.” Alexia said quietly. You were caught off guard, but composed yourself quickly. “That’s not an easy thing to ask with your career, captain.” You chuckled quietly, but grew quiet as you noticed the sincerity in her voice. “Look, I know we barely know each other. But I think you’re the kind of person who could see me for who I am, not just the name, the number or the captain’s armband. I feel drawn to you, and that doesn’t happen often. And I know you feel it too. I can tell by the way you look at me.”
“That’s… a lot, Alexia.” You hesitated, meeting her eyes again. “Thank you for being so open and honest with me. You’re right, I feel it too. But I don’t know if I’m the kind of person you think I am. I mean… you’re you, and…” you trailed off, but you were sure she understood what you were trying to say.
“And you’re you. That’s exactly why I’m standing here right now. Why I invited you today. Why I asked you to come to the parking lot.” Her words helped you ease a little further, but not all the apprehension had worn off and she could tell. “Tell you what, let me prove it to you. Dinner? No pressure. Just food, conversation, and maybe some embarrassing stories about my teammates.” A hopeful smile grew on her face after her words and you couldn’t hold back the chuckle that escaped your lips as you listened to her. “You know how to sell an offer, don’t you?”
“I’ve got plenty. Trust me, it’ll be worth it.” “Hmm, I don’t know. Feels like you’re trying too hard to convince me.” “Trying too hard? I thought I was being charming!” “Debatable.” “Come on, let me in tonight. That’s all I’m asking for.” “Fine. But only because I’m curious about these embarrassing stories.” “Fair enough.”
-
The restaurant is small but elegant, tucked away in a quieter part of the city. Twinkling string lights frame the windows, and a gold sign with cursive lettering displays the name. It was perfect, really, and you could see why Alexia liked coming here, especially after busy days like today.
The warm lighting inside created the perfect cozy atmosphere that would allow you both to unwind from the day. There were candles on every table, casting soft shadows on the walls, and there was a tinge of jazz to be heard in the background. It’s intimate but not overly formal, just right for a dinner that was toeing the line between casual and romantic.
“You’ve got good taste in restaurants,” you said, after hanging your jacket over your chair and sitting down. “Good food is one of the few indulgences I allow myself during the season. Though I have to be careful not to overdo it.” You smirked, deciding that you could tease her a little further. “You mean you don’t carb-load on patatas bravas before every match?” Alexia laughed at that, throwing her head back slightly. “I wish. I’d run for ten minutes and then need a sub.”
You indulge yourself in the menu for a second, eventually settling on and ordering a seafood risotto and a glass of white wine. Alexia ordered grilled chicken with roasted vegetables, paired with a glass of red.
You feel hyper-aware of every small detail about Alexia while you wait for your food. The way she leans forward when she speaks, the gestures she makes with her hands, the warmth in her eyes. You’re overwhelmed, in the best possible way.
“So, Putellas, do you always bring strangers here, or should I feel special?” You challenged, taking a sip from the glass of wine that was just brought to you by one of the waiters. Alexia feigned annoyance, placing a hand over her chest where her heart was. Nonetheless, her face turned into a grin soon.
“Special. But don’t let it get to your head. I needed to bribe you into liking me somehow.” “Oh, so this is a bribe?” “What can I say? I’m better with my feet than my words”
Dinner goes by smoothly, and your conversation flows easily from one topic to the other. You cover your family, Alexia’s way into football, what she’s thinking of doing after football, your hobbies, your youth, but it’s when the topic of your work is being brought up that you grow apprehensive. Alexia noticed the unease that came from you after she brought it up, and tried to reassure you.
“You know, I like hearing about your work. It’s part of who you are,” she tried. If there was one thing that you’d not gotten over yet, it’s that you met Alexia through a work context. Deep down, there were more than rational thoughts telling you that that was completely okay, it happened all the time, but with how focused you are on your image and your professional career, you had a hard time dropping the apprehension. So you paused for a second, and then spoke up softly. “But that’s the thing. I feel like I need to keep it separate. Like if I start talking too much about it, I’ll ruin this… whatever this is.” Alexia leant forward at that, like she had the tendency to do quite often you’d grown to learn. “And what do you think this is?” You met her eyes, trying to feign indifference by shrugging. “I don’t know. Something new, something unexpected.”
“Well, maybe unexpected is good. You don’t have to keep everything separate, you know. I like knowing more about you. All of you.” “Careful, I might start talking about zoning laws and blueprints.” “I’ll risk it. Besides, more fuel for me to tease you with.”
There’s a little more hesitance in your eyes, and Alexia wants to get rid of it. “Tonight, I’m not Alexia Putellas. I’m Alexia, Ale. That’s all I want to be now.” And really, how could you stay professional with someone who looked at you like that, as if they’re seeing something no one else ever had?
“I don’t usually do this either, you know? Going for dinner with someone I barely know.” Alexia speaks up after a while of comfortable silence. “Then why now?” You asked, not sure whether you really wanted to hear the answer, knowing it would only put your further into a pit of unfamiliar feelings that was growing deeper and deeper with each passing minute of sitting across the infatuating Spanish captain. “Because you feel different. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I feel like you see me. Not the player, just me.”
The night went on without too many hiccups from then on. It was only when the time came to pay, that some more teasing was thrown around. “You’ve got that look on your face. You’re going to pay, aren’t you.” You cocked an eyebrow at the women across you who was sporting a bright smile. “You caught me.” You sighed, rolling your eyes briefly. “At least let me cover dessert.”
“How about this; you get dessert next time.” “Next time? You’re confident.” “Maybe. But I’m not doubting anything.”
As you step out the restaurant, Alexia offers you her jacket when she notices you shivering in the chilly air of Barcelona. Your fingers brush as she helps you into it, and for a moment, they linger. “This was nice. I’m glad you said yes.” Her voice barely above a whisper, as if the intimacy of the evening had softened her voice. “Me too. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but… I had a really great time. Sorry for my apprehension.” “Don’t apologise. And good, because I’d like to do this again. Soon.”
For a moment, Alexia looked at you, her eyes lingering on yours like she was memorizing something important. And then she leaned in, so slowly that you could feel your heart pound in anticipation. Her lips brushed your cheek, featherlight and warm, lingering just enough to make your breath hitch. It wasn’t hurried, it was deliberate, full of quiet meaning.
Your skin tingled where she’d kissed you, and a rush of warmth spread from your chest all the way to your fingertips. It was a simple gesture, nothing more than a small brush of her lips against your cheek, but it left you feeling all kinds of ways. Ways that you weren’t prepared for, and your growing adoration for her hit you in the face once more.
When she pulled back, Alexia’s eyes searched yours for a reaction, her own cheeks tinged pink in the glow of the streetlight. Your voice felt caught in your throat, but your heart spoke louder. You knew then, without a doubt, that this was more than just a fleeting connection.
#woso#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#barca femení x reader#barca femení
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Winter Series Day 4 - The little things
Summary: the random things you do that Jason finds cute
A/N: literally Jason saying in the comics this particular line had me at a choke hold and it didn't help it kept appearing under "following" and "for you" for a whole week.
You are cute. The statement he just made needs to be underlined. Italicized. Boldened. People may know he’s whipped but he’s pretty sure you yourself have yet to realize how down bad he is for you. Anything you do can make his heart flutter, body temp to hike up and get him to strike a fever in a matter of seconds. The things you do without being aware, all out of subconsciousness drives him mad. You scrunching your nose up slightly whenever you’re expressing discontent reminds him of a rabbit. With the addition of slightly puffed cheeks and lips, he teases you by pinching your nose when being modest. Most times, he’s leaning forward and capturing the softest part of your face, gleefully taking in the sight of your face blooming. It’s better when you snap at him for doing that “out of nowhere” afterwards, mentally high-fiving himself in getting the reaction he always loves to see.
Your habit of playing with his hand when you’re in deep thoughts and he happens to hold to be there or you’re trying to comfort him takes a lot out of him. He can feel fast and hard thuds against his chest while you’re gently tangling your fingers with his. A one-sided thumb-wrestle, drawing circles in his palm. His favorites so far are when you simply lay your hand in his and push his fingers so that he’s squeezing your hand or when you wrap one finger to another, as if that’ll link the two of you together, forever . He puts no strength in, letting you do whatever you want to your heart’s desire whenever you do this. Not only does it take whatever edge both of you had away, it invites a lot of imagination on his side.
With how adorable you are, he entertains the idea of covering and wrapping you in a blanket, hiding you from the world so you would forever stay as you are. If he’s not thinking about that, he’s thinking how so many people so far didn’t see the things he sees in you. Everything about you, inside and out, is gold. Whatever, that’s their loss which he will most certainly reap as he pushes on with his goal to stay by your side.
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HIHII HRUU OMG THIS IS LOWK LIKE MY FIRST TIME LIKE ANONYMOUSLY ASKING SM BUT YEAHHH.... ANYWAYS ILL LITERALLY GIVE U THE SLOPPIEST BACK ARGCHING TOE CURLING EYE ROLLING HEAD IF U MAKE A ANOTHER PART OF THE SUKUNA MINI SERIES 👅👅
a/n: STOP I GENUINELY CACKLED, btw this one is my first attempt at smut sooooo… 🙈🙈🙈 also @17020
pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4
your body is moving before your fully awake, eyes puffy and vision blurred as you tried to come to your senses. a soft moan escapes your lips and your hand instinctively moves in between your thighs, landing on soft pink hair and gripping tightly.
“look who’s finally awake,” sukuna says with an evil grin. his tongue flicking your most sensitive spot. you gasp again and your hips buck into his mouth as he devours you whole.
“oh- oh fuck- ryo,” you whine and sukuna groans against you, your raspy and groggy moans making him harder than he already was.
“couldn’t help myself pretty,” he mumbles against your skin, tattooed hands gripping your plush thighs tightly, “jus’ looked so gorgeous f’me.”
you keen, your eyes squeezing shut, lip tucked into your teeth as your orgasm draws nearer. his hand lands roughly the inside of your thigh making you let out a soft yelp.
“cum for me baby.”
and you do. it’s delicious, the sensation igniting your whole body as you writhe beneath him. even in your cloudy state you can as he shifts, grinding his hard on into the bed and knowing the effect you have on him makes everything all the more pleasurable.
as you slowly come down, whole body flushed and panting softly. sukuna kisses the inside of your thigh before crawling upwards and pulling you into a kiss you. you grin, arms wrapping around his neck as you flip him over so that you’re straddling him.
you pull away, mouth open to speak when suddenly the bedroom door flies open and an angry yuuji is standing in the doorway pouting. before your boyfriend can say a word your tumbling off of him, wrapping a blanket around your bare legs and hurrying over to him.
“yuuji, what’s wrong sweetie?”
the toddler looks up at you with big, sad eyes and lifts his arms, wanting to be held. of course you oblige, scooping him up with one arm, the other hand still holding the blanket.
“did you a nightmare wake up?”
he sniffles and nods, burying his face in your shoulder. sukuna scowls at the two of you.
“damn brat, always stealing your attention away from me, huh?”
you roll your eyes and place yuuji down on the bed before using the blanket to hide you while you discreetly slip your shorts back on. yuuji crawls onto sukuna’s chest, nuzzling his little face into his big brother’s neck.
despite his grumpy face, sukuna’s hand instantly comes to rest on the child’s back, rubbing soothing circles.
now fully dressed, you slip back into bed beside them, cuddling up to your two favorite boys.
“you know very well I love you both equally… except i love yuuji just a little more.”
“wha- hey!” your boyfriend grumbles, flicking your forehead, “there’s no way you love this runt more.”
yuuji sticks his tongue out at his big brother.
“only when you’re being difficult… which is always.”
“take that back!”
#I NEVER KNOW HOW TO END STUFF UGH#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk smut#sukuna#sukuna x y/n#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna smut#big brother!sukuna#straight from the notebook! <3
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max verstappen // mv1 fic recs
———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————
one shots
fluorescent - @scuderiahoney
“motorsport is a dog eat dog world, and you know that better than most. it’s not often you meet someone who understands, who shines a light on all the darkness, but max might just be the perfect person for it”
first loser - @itsgodepi
“in the wake of a disastrous race, you're caught under the media's unforgiving glare. your every move and word being dissected for days on end as you simply try to navigate your rookie year in formula one. It is just your luck that your opponent in this fiasco is none other than the famously outspoken max verstappen, whose relentless jabs only add to your frustrations”
zandvoort, nl - @frogstappen
“you watch max's home race from the red bull garage”
a different light - @userlando
"you weren’t just friends. friends didn’t touch you the way he did (or the one where max has an epiphany and realizes he's in love with his best friend)"
coming of age - @keerysfreckles
“in which a silly bet between the two redbull drivers becomes a reality when y/n wins the first race of the 2024 season”
tying you to me - @pierregazly
“[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you)”
denial is a man’s best friend - @marlenesluv
“ y/n and max have been friends since karting years, and now? now, they’re teammates at redbull. they are one of the best teammate duos in the grid, but what happens when max catches feelings?…or when everyone but them notices they are in love but themselves”
baby steps - @forteafy
“you've always been mercedes golden girl; your life and career have been set out in stone. all it takes is for your ultimate rival to change that all”
pick you up - @scuderiahoney
“when Max has one too many gin & tonics, you’re the one who picks (him) up, every time he calls”
temptations - @no-144444
“you and max are on break and things get out of hand. nothing like tmz to mess things up, right?”
never an interruption- @fastandcarlos
“you’re all ready to celebrate max’s win with him, only when you find someone already there to celebrate, you begin to question the role you truly play in max’s life”
little big fan - @thef1diary
“your daughter runs off while you were in the middle of grocery shopping because she spotted max, her favourite driver. meeting you, max wants to know everything about you and your six year old. so of course he finds excuses to keep meeting you, starting with inviting you to the dutch grand prix”
series
rule breaker series - @coff33andb00ks
“max has it all...right? besides, he's too busy collecting trophies and completing side quests for anything else. until... you moved across a whole ass ocean to start over, uprooting you and your son's lives to become social media admin for cars that drive in circles”
smau
yuck! series - @maxlarens - smau
“your aesthetic interest in max verstappen is purely professional, you swear”
won gold - @maxverstappendefender - smau
“olympic snowboarder!gf x mv1 (max being a complete simp for someone that doesn’t even know him)”
miami baby - @norrisainz33 - smau
“actress and avid f1 fan visits the paddock for the first time and she is a certain world champion’s celebrity crush”
worlds biggest fan - @astonmartinii - smau
“y/n is the president of the official max verstappen fan club, but nothing can come of that, right?”
*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*
#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic rec#formula 1 fic rec#b's fic recs#mv1 x reader#mv1 x y/n#mv1 fic#mv1 fic rec
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can you keep it down?
pairing: neighbor!mark x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, dilf!mark, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, thigh slapping, forced submission, implications of brat taming (in progress), praise, degradation but it’s more like banter, unprotected sex (dont b silly wrap ur willy)
summary: The apartment next door to yours has been vacant for months. No one had gone in or out, not until your new next door neighbor moved in two weeks ago. Mark, a slightly older guy who prides himself on his patience and willpower with a penchant for control. But when you make it clear you’re resolved to wither away the things he values most, Mark decides he’s down for the challenge, determined to put a leash on your unrestrained behavior - and most importantly, finally shut you the hell up.
word count: 10.4k
a/n: 4/4 of the Temptation series. feedback is appreciated!
The first time you met Mark, it was right outside your door.
It was late at night - debatably early in the morning - and you had been in the middle of bringing yourself to the third consecutive orgasm in a row when loud knocking interrupted you. Part of you was tempted to ignore whoever was determined to beat down your door, but it was ceaseless and frankly, you were growing annoyed.
Swiftly you slipped on the closest pair of shorts and marched to the front door in large strides, swinging it open once you finally arrived. Then, your eyes met Mark’s.
He was a mere stranger to you then. But what you saw made you want to know him. What you saw made you nearly forget that you were on the brink of orgasm only moments ago. A pair of beautiful brown eyes stared back at you.
“Hey,” he greeted, voice gruff. “Sorry to bother you, but can you keep it down? I live right next door and with all the noise I can’t sleep.”
For a moment you only blinked, processing his words slowly. You weren’t aware that you were being that loud. But then again, you were in no state to properly register your actions - you were delirious with pleasure and had blocked everything else past your senses.
When you finally processed his statement, your cheeks burned, slightly embarrassed. “Fuck. I’m so, so sorry, I had no idea. I’ll try to be quieter from now on.”
He gave you a courteous nod and replied, “No worries. Have a good night.”
“You, too.”
And that was it. When you shimmied back out of your shorts, you didn’t even feel energetic anymore, only overcome by exhaustion and the burdensome fact that you had work in the morning. You groaned and flopped against your bedsheets, letting sleep swallow you whole.
But the image of your new neighbor was reoccurring. There was something familiar about him, like you had seen him once before. And there were things you noticed right off the bat about him. For one, he was an older guy. Not old, but evidently beyond your years. And if the shorts he wore was any indicator, he was likely a father.
That made the chain of thoughts about him increase, and you didn’t even know his first name. There was instant intrigue and desire to get to know your new, next-door neighbor.
Though visions died quick, and dreams were killed even quicker. When you saw Mark swallowing some girl’s face only moments before she left his apartment on your way to work some days later, you rationalized yourself and decided to take it steady. It was certain that you were sure of what you wanted, but you respected his relationship. You were a great deal of things - delusional and a homewrecker weren’t on the list.
The second time, it was when you least expected it - at a local cafe.
Mark sat across from you, coffee cup in hand. Awareness of someone’s sudden presence made you shudder, and it slightly soothed you when you realized it was your hot neighbor. Your heart was still beating fast.
You played it cool. “Are you stalking me, neighbor?”
Amused, your neighbor let out a chuckle that was like music to your ears. “My name is Mark,” he introduced himself, smiling blithely. “And don’t flatter yourself, neighbor. I saw you here coincidentally and sat here because I had one good question for you.”
With an eyebrow arched, you casted Mark an identical smile. It amused you that he spoke to you as if you had been long friends, though you didn’t mind. You had been intrigued by Mark the moment you first laid eyes on him, and had been incapable of taking them off him since.
“Mark,” you said, tasting his name on your tongue. You played along and bobbed your head after a few moments, deciding you liked his name and gave him yours. “What do you have to ask me, Mark?”
Mark leaned over the table, voice an octave above a whisper as he asked, “Who’s fucking you so good that you can’t be quiet?”
He leaned back out and eyed you smugly when you blinked in surprise. His bluntness had caught you off-guard and he was proud of it, but you refused to not quickly recover.
Feigning indifference, you replied, “No one. Most of the time it’s just me and my toys. I have a hectic work schedule so it’s rare for me to find time to mess with people.”
Much to your misfortune, it was true. Working a busy office job meant that you had little time for even short-lived flings or one-night stands, much less the commitment of a serious relationship. It was difficult to recall the last time that you had gotten laid. With work taking such a humongous toll on you, your only way of relieving all of your pent-up frustrations was with sex toys.
That response was a clear shock to Mark, and in return you took pride in it. He was expecting you to be taken, but now that you had essentially implied that you weren’t dating anyone, he felt free to make a move on you. It was an indirect way of asking you if you were single. He also didn’t expect the same girl that flushed red when he confronted you about your noisiness to meet his boldness, but it was a welcome surprise. Mark could tell only fun things would come out of knowing you and becoming your neighbor.
Mark took a long sip from his cup, then asked, “What do you do for a living?”
“I work a variable job as an executive assistant that spends an ungodly amount of time behind a computer screen doing everyone else’s job for them,” you smiled tiredly.
He threw you a playful grimace and glanced at his watch for a split-second, but you had his undivided attention again in no time. “Damn, no wonder. You must like things rough.”
That took you by surprise, but you didn’t dare show it. “You have no idea,” you grumbled, playing it safe. “What about you?”
Mark grinned with pride. “I’m an editor for a publishing company.”
“Must be fun.”
“I can’t complain. It’s a stress sometimes, but it pays the bills.”
You chuckled. “Amen to that.”
It felt forbidden to be interested in your potentially taken neighbor that you only met a couple of days ago, yet here you were talking to him about your sex and work life. To make matters worse - and if that comment about you liking things rough was any indicator - you might have somehow also piqued his interests.
Maybe you were just reading too much into his words. After all, you were his noisy neighbor that kept him up at night. He was probably just curious as to why you seemingly made enemies with silence.
Mark glanced at his watch again then rose from his seat, and you figured he had places to be. “I’d better get going. I have to pick up my son.”
“Your son?” you questioned, furrowing your brows. The confusion was fake, of course. You had a hunch that he was a father, but you had never seen or heard the child to confirm your suspicions.
“Yes, my son,” Mark gave you a hard stare that you couldn’t make out. “It’s Friday and he stays with me this weekend so please, if not for my sake then for his, keep it down.”
You gave Mark a nod. He bid you farewell and made a break for the door, the chime of the bells letting you know that he was gone. He had wanted to stay for a bit, play for a little longer, but decided it was a good thing he didn’t get much of a chance to make a move. For now, Mark was intent on observing you. He wanted to figure you out a bit more before he went to first base.
But damn was he interested. There was something about you a couple of moments ago that he was attracted to, how you seemed equally bold as he was. A stark contrast from the first time he met you, but he figured that he had simply caught you at a bad time.
That was the thing, though - Mark didn’t know you. He needed more time before he could be sure you were worth it.
For at least the weekend, you obliged Mark’s wishes. As aforementioned, you were a great deal of things, but you weren’t petty for the wrong reasons. Or outright odd. It wasn’t like you were loud for the sake of it, you truly just never realized what you were capable of.
Over the course of those days, you continued to think about Mark. He had cut deep in your imagination and now there was a permanent scar that refused to heal. It was silly, being so hung over a guy you hardly knew and couldn’t have, but you couldn’t help it.
Mark was giving you a headache. You weren’t one to be indecisive over what you wanted, but that wasn’t the case here. From the moment he showed up at your doorstep, you knew that you had to have him. The problem was that you wanted to outline boundaries. There were places you were able to step and then there were places you weren’t. The last thing you wanted was to scare him away because of your urges.
The third time you saw Mark was the following weekend, bumping into him in the halls. You were going to apologize, but then his face fell into your vision. And thus, you noticed something completely new about it.
“You have a stubble,” you commented, nearly gawking.
Mark bobbed his head, grinning. He found it interesting how you gazed up at him as if you’d never seen a man with a stubble before. “Yeah. That’s what happens when you don’t shave. Shocking, I know.”
“I kind of like it.”
He snickered. “Only kinda?”
More than kind of - and while you weren’t afraid to admit it, you ignored his question. The stubble was the completion to Mark’s physical attractiveness that you hadn’t even known you would be into. He was already hot as hell, though now he was somehow even hotter.
He shot you a smug smile, unable to miss the way that you leered at him. You found him attractive. It was no secret and Mark wasn’t sure if you intended for it to be or not, though the way that you were unabashedly fucking him with your eyes gave him a huge hint. After last weekend’s encounter, you didn’t strike him as the type to shy away very easily. Confident.
So was he.
“You’re just standing here watching me like you want to eat me. Do you like it that much?”
There were a couple of routes you could take with that question. Either you could be honest and tell him how you felt, or you could beat around the bush. You chose the former.
“Sight for sore eyes,” you replied, finally meeting his eyes. He held eye contact with you as well as the expectation that you would break, but you proved him wrong. You kept looking him in his eyes as you said, “I love it. I think it suits the fuck out of you.”
Mark raised a brow, intrigued by your response. “Mm,” he hummed. He moved a step closer to you and asked, “What else do you like?”
Your breath began to speed up and so did your pulse when you picked up on how close your bodies were. You were hyper aware of the proximity and it was slowly killing you, setting off visceral reactions in your body. Another inch and his lips would be brushing yours. It felt like a test on your behalf - to see how you would react and if you would chicken out - and you utterly refused to back down from the challenge.
Deflecting, you tore your eyes from his lips and asked back, “Initiating a conversation with me in the middle of the hallway?”
He cocked his head to the side. “Do you wanna come in, then?”
“I don’t think your girlfriend would like that very much,” you faked a pout, the most subtle sullen undertone hiding in your sentence.
Mark resisted a grin. It was probable you were indirectly determining whether or not he was single. But the tiniest hint of sadness in your voice suggested that you might have genuinely been under the impression he was in a relationship.
“What girlfriend?” He threw you an utterly confused look. “I haven’t been in a relationship since the birth of Christ.”
You stared at him with genuine surprise. “I saw you sucking some girl’s face like last week.”
“And have you seen her around here again since?” Mark scoffed, amused.
What he was implying began to sink in gradually and you realized that you had made an awfully large assumption the other day. Though in your defense, people making out with their hookups like that was completely unheard of to you. It looked too passionate, especially for the morning after. When you had nothing to quip, Mark made a face at you that made you want to sink into the ground, and added, “She’s not my girlfriend - she was a fling. We had sex the previous night but I’m sure you weren’t able to tell because unlike someone, I know how to be quiet.”
Was. That meant not any more.
Affronted, and refusing to take that, you took a step back and shot, “Maybe your dick game is just weak if she’s that quiet.”
“You wanna find out?” Mark cocked his head to the side with an exasperating smile, taking a step forward for every step you took backwards until your back hit a wall. It was obvious that you were trying to get a rise out of him and he wouldn’t take the bait. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
Mark’s hands were on either side of you and his gaze rooted you in place. Neither of you seemed to give a damn that you were in public and in the view of a security camera. You kept staring at one another, pupils dilated with obvious want. Now that you were aware that Mark was single you deemed it perfectly safe to cave in to your desires, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to - yet. It was funny how whenever you finally got what you wanted, it was never enough.
You smiled softly, matching the little smirk on his face - you didn’t want him to think that he had an advantage over you, and whether he did or didn’t wasn’t relevant. “Are you saying that you want me?”
“I do want you,” Mark confessed without a care. He had no true intention of sleeping with you just yet, wanting to get to know you some more, but it wouldn’t hurt to admit that he was attracted to you nonetheless. “Do you want me?”
Seductively, you leered at him, then purred, “So bad.”
“Then, stop deflecting.”
With one little breath, you said, “Fine,” then closed the tiny gap between the both of you and your lips. When he kissed you back, your hands sought for his neck and his hooked around your waist.
As you kissed Mark it only became more fierce, tongues and teeth clashing in attempts to maintain dominance over the other. Yet neither of you would cave. Both of you were fighting fire with fire and it was like nothing that either of you had ever experienced before. Mark displayed a clear need for power and control, and while you weren’t against letting him have it, you were never one to give it away that easily.
You tugged on Mark’s hair, wanting to feel him as close as possible. His calloused hands began to wander all over you, kneading your skin and making you moan softly into his mouth. You could feel him grinning against your lips. His touch was like fire and your body was already burning with lust, desire, and everything in between. It had been so long since someone last touched you like this, kissed you like this. Mark was filling in all the little gaps and empty spaces.
A rough pull at his locks made Mark groan into your mouth and he pinned your hands above your head, up against the wall. He got rougher, as if he was trying to fit you into the wall - or maybe force you through it. But the fervor was welcome, and although he had pinned your hands above your head, you still kissed him with as much eagerness as you were humanly capable.
You pulled away when you had your fill, knowing that if you kept him close to you any longer you would make a move for his clothes, and your exhibitionism kink only extended so far. The both of you stared at one another with sheer lust, but there was an almost telepathic understanding between you. We have to wait.
Out of breath, you casted Mark a flirtatious wink and smile before parting and said, “See you later, Mark.”
Then, you sashayed back to your apartment. When you felt his eyes boring holes into your back, you simpered to yourself. You had planted the seed; now all you had to do was let it grow.
Days of messing around with Mark turned into weeks, but both of you were yet to succumb to your temptations. It was like you were waiting for the other to give in first and neither of you wanted to grant the other that satisfaction.
But of course, after planting the seed you had to water it and give it sunshine. In other words, you continued to flirt with Mark, maintaining his interest. And in return, he maintained yours. From anyone else’s point of view it might have seemed silly to be resisting each other when it was clear as day that the lust was mutual, but you and Mark were too alike. Too much pride, and too much adoration for all things thrill and tension.
Even when he wasn’t in your company, Mark was on your mind. It had only gotten worse the moment you kissed him. In the beginning you only thought about him occasionally - mostly whenever you saw or heard him - but now he was creeping into your head during your downtime and that was a problem. Your thoughts consisted nearly completely of him. Mark, Mark, Mark. He was all you could think about.
One weekend, you surprisingly encountered Mark at a playground. He appeared shocked to see you, but only let it show for a brief moment.
“I’m beginning to think that you’re the one stalking me. What in God’s name are you of all people doing at a playground?”
“Please. You’re not that special. I don’t have the time or energy to stalk anyone, baby,” you drawled with a hint of amusement. You pointed at a little girl. “You see that little girl in the purple shirt on the slide? That’s my niece. I’m babysitting her for my brother and sister-in-law. Today’s their anniversary and they wanted peace.”
Mark bobbed his head, understanding. “Of course. You can’t have any of that around a child. How old is she?”
“Just turned six about a week ago.”
“Around my son’s age,” he remarked, then pointed towards the set of swings. A couple of children played over there, but only one young boy was in the group. And he looked almost just like someone you knew. “He’s right there on the swings. Six, but he’s nearing seven.”
He was absolutely adorable. You were already thinking about play dates between him and your niece. She was lovely and enjoyed meeting new people, bless her pure heart.
You smiled softly with awe. “Stole your whole face. There’s no way in hell you could deny that boy.”
Mark snickered, shoulders shaking. “Damn right. My little mini-me,” he sighed happily. He took his eyes off his son for a split-second to glance over at you. You looked beautiful, as always. And you were watching your niece with so much intent and care that he doubted you had even snook a glance of your own his way. “Fond of kids?”
“I babysitted throughout college,” you replied pensively. Reminiscent. “Believe it or not. I thought it was my calling because I was so responsible and the parents always praised me, plus it was a huge step towards individuality. Grew up with a lot of siblings and relatives, too, so I’ve always been around children.”
Mark grinned, satisfied. That was the answer he wanted to hear. He was only curious because he was interested in you, and before he jumped too far ahead he needed to know what you thought about children. It was a relief that you had so much tenderness for and resonated so well with them. That gave him all the more reasons to want you by his side. “What about you?” he asked, adding when your face scrunched about with confusion, “Do you want kids of your own?”
There was no reluctance in your answer, like you had already thought long and hard about the question before. “Someday. When I’m married and sure I’ve chosen the right person to settle down and have kids with. And when I have a less demanding job so that I’m able to take care of my family and spend time with them,” you said, smiling wistfully. “My parents were busy people. They weren’t around a whole lot so me and my siblings practically raised each other.”
Mark gave you a look. One you could make out as pity. You thought his response would be predictable, but it caught you by surprise. “You don’t want to be pitied, do you?”
You blinked, genuinely unsure of how to respond for a moment. Then you broke into a broad grin and said, “Nope.”
“I feel for you anyways,” Mark gave a playful nudge to your side with his elbow. “And I think you have beautiful visions for the future. I can tell you’re gonna be a great mother.”
You thanked him in a way that was positively bashful. For a while, you and Mark chatted about whatever the hell you wanted - topics in relation to the children, personal life, and everything in between. After the day you and Mark kissed, a more mutual effort to get to know each other blossomed. Mark told you everything there was to know about his job. Most of the time he worked from home without much need for overseer authorization, and set his own hours. As someone who loved being in control, it suited him.
It was alarming that you had gotten so personal so fast. You had only known each other for a month, more or less, and only really began talking a couple of weeks ago. Yet you felt comfortable enough to share a certain level of information that you normally would conceal.
You were becoming close in every sense of the word. The tension between you and Mark never fizzled out, it only seemed to grow more, and more, and more, until it would eventually explode in your faces. By then, you would have no choice but to confront it directly. You couldn’t wait.
Mark wrapped his arm around your waist, and peered down briefly to look at it. Contact drove you crazy. You loved having Mark’s hands on you, even in non-sexual ways.
He pulled you into him and asked, “How long are you keeping her?”
“Just until five. I’m taking her to her grandma’s after this,” you replied, shifting your gaze back to the playground. But a smug smile tugged your lips. “Why?”
There was a shine in Mark’s pretty brown eyes. It was almost five. Voice tickling your neck, he leaned in to say bluntly, “Because I wanna take you for a ride. Are you down?”
You casted him an observant glance over your shoulder. What Mark wanted was clear, or so you thought, but you were in the mood for playing hard to get. As per usual. “Dunno. What kind of ride?”
“The kind where we get in my car and go whatever the road and a full tank of gas leads us,” Mark shrugged. “It’s a yes-no question, doll. Are you down, or not?”
Doll. That was new. You had reached the pet name stage, calling each other ‘baby’ a couple of times, but ‘doll’ was new. It also had you wishing that you were both alone so that you could do something about how badly you craved Mark in that moment.
“I’m down. Meet me outside the complex at six?” You questioned, peering up at him yet again. You smiled when you met his eyes, unable to resist the urge. Mark made you feel good inside, all warm and gross. It was a delight to know you were still capable of feeling such a way. After all, it had been so long since the last time.
Mark nodded and smiled back. “I will. Child-less, so that we can have peace of our own.”
You giggled into his chest. You could smell his scent, and it was heavenly.
At six o’clock, Mark was waiting for you downstairs like he said that he would be. And he was child-less. You both were.
Ever the gentleman, he opened the passenger door of his car for you and shut it once you were completely inside. Of course, it took more than simple courtesy to impress you, but something about it was making you giggle. Something you couldn’t pinpoint.
Mark gave you a look once he settled in the driver’s seat. “What’s funny?”
“Chivalry,” you sighed, smiling. “Apparently, it’s not dead.”
Mark was amused, but held back a snort. You were occasionally ridiculous, but just the right amount. He could tolerate it.
As he gripped the steering wheel, the car jerked to live underneath his fingertips, and soon you were both rolling. You said nothing for a little while, Mark focusing on the road and you peering out the window. The silence wasn’t awkward, but he cut on the radio and began to hum the song that was currently playing.
You glanced at him witheringly, but he was unbothered. Then, you teased with a grin, “Oh, yeah. Show out, Beyoncé.”
“Stop being a hater,” Mark groaned, then went back to singing.
After some moments of teasing, you were finally content and gave it a rest, relaxing into the leather seat. You were happy. If anyone had told you a month ago that you’d be in your new neighbor’s car listening to him sing songs from the radio, you would have called them insane. But you weren’t stupid and you knew better than to vulnerate yourself to a stranger. You told a couple friends about him and realized why Mark had seemed familiar - because he was. One of them knew Mark and was able to vouch for him, assuring you he was a good guy. That was why you felt so goddamn free.
It was peaceful, being alone with Mark. Whenever you weren’t both determined to get into each other’s pants, that was. But there was none of that right now - only the scenery whirling by at the pace of the lightning, the radio prevailing over the silence, and Mark by your side. And you by his. It felt too damn nice.
“You never answered my question that day.”
“Hm?” you gazed at him, confused. By his sentence and sudden will to ignite conversation, although you didn’t mind. “What question?”
Mark’s hand left the steering wheel and dropped to your thigh, which undoubtedly didn’t go unnoticed by you. He didn’t move it, but you couldn’t ignore his fingers on your skin. “I asked you, what else do you like?”
“About you, or in general?”
He shrugged. “Whatever gets you talking.”
You gazed through the windshield, pretending to be pondering deeply. “Well, in general, I like a bunch of things. I’ve got a penchant for poetry and music. This tends to shock people, but parties aren’t my scene. I’m a more reserved person. I love the color blue.”
“Why blue?”
“Because it looks amazing on me,” you winked.
“Mm,” Mark glanced at you fleetingly through the rear-view mirror. That was when his fingers started moving, kneading your thigh. “What else?”
“Hm, well,” you began, pretending to be unbothered by his touch. In reality, you were melting with every move. “About you, there’s a lot for me to like, too. You’re confident, smart, funny, sexy,” then you licked your lips and added, “And an excellent kisser.”
Mark grinned, hand still massaging your bare skin. “What a sweet-talker you are. Keep going,” he whispered, then gave your thigh a little squeeze.
But you were honest. There were too many things you admired about Mark that led you to becoming drawn to him in such a little period of time. Just as easily as he had been able to make you tell him things, you had persuaded him into opening up. There was still so much to learn about each other on deeper levels, but time was your best friend. For now, you decided that you would tell him what you already knew.
“I like the way you put so much care and effort into what you love. I’ve heard you talk about your son, your friends, your job. You never neglect anything,” you confessed, smiling fondly as you recalled the conversations you’d had. “I like how we’re similar, too. I think that’s part of the reason why we feel comfortable moving so fast. We’re cut from the same cloth. We both know what we want and when and how we want it, and we’re not afraid to go get it. It’s like playing a damn game of tug of war whenever I’m with you.”
“Or a very calculated game of chess,” Mark added, shaking his head with amusement.
You giggled. “But there’s something about you that’s so… alluring. I’m attracted to it. You’re a hardworking borderline control freak that’s unafraid of sincerity. I love it.”
“Romantic. I’m swooning,” he deadpanned, throwing you a playful glare.
“And you’re the right amount of sarcastic.”
“And that’s what gets you going?”
“Baby, please. If I could kiss you right fucking now, I would,” you admitted.
Mark said nothing, but his fingers kept fondling with your flesh, and your breath kept getting out of control. He gave your thigh another reassuring squeeze, letting you know he heard you.
Forest views took over. You pressed your fingertips to the window glass and watched as the rapid blur of scenes that once consisted of neon city lights turned green. Moss-coated branches replaced them, last rays of sunlight filtering through them as you neared the woods and the gravel roads turned to dirt.
“Woods, very spooky. Are you gonna kill me and hide my body out here?” you asked him humorously, watching as he drove you through the wild.
Mark didn’t take his eyes off the road as he replied, “And dump it in the lake.”
“Lake?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
You did see a lake. Mark parked his car near some trees and once he helped you outside, led you down a trail until you reached a bridge. It was long and stretched above a medium body of water. Blossoming flowers lived in the grass and the scent was earthy. You stretched ever so slightly over the railing and saw yours and Mark’s reflection staring back at you.
There were little fountains in the lake. Creatures made the water ripple and you watched with Mark’s arm wrapped around your waist as the smell and sound of nature filled your senses. Ducks pecked around the land edges of the lake in hunt of food.
“It’s beautiful,” you exhaled in awe. The clouds and setting sun peered down on the water and you wished that you had your camera on your person. It was a sight too gorgeous to let become nothing more than a memory fading at the back of your head.
Mark bobbed his head in agreement. The corners of his lips tugged upwards as he said, “It is. I come here from time to time whenever I need to clear my head. It’s a nice place that I’ve always wanted to share with someone.”
“You trust me enough to share it with me?” you teased, palms on his chest as you gazed up at his face. “I mean, like what if I get arrested for tax fraud and every time you come here all you can think about is your old neighbor that got sent to prison for evading her taxes.”
“Then, you better do your taxes, or else I’ll be right after you when you get out. For attempted murder.”
You made a face of faux fear. “Shiver me timbers!”
Somehow, Mark pulled you closer and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Any closer and you were sure he would be able to feel how fast your heart was beating. It was safe to say that you had a little crush on your neighbor. You wanted him to an extent that words couldn’t capture.
There was something different with Mark. Linger was the perfect word to describe how his every action affected you. When he kissed you, you could still feel his lips on you moments afterwards. His every touch lingered on you, even the barest ones. You could taste him on you, his scent lingered on your body - it was too much. But Mark was too persistent. Even if you wanted to, and you didn’t, you couldn’t get away.
Mark looked at you as if he wanted to kiss you, but to your misfortune, he didn’t. Instead his lips parted to say, “Watch the sunset with me.”
Obediently, you turned to face the railing, which pleased him. He moved behind you and tightened his grip on your waist.
The sunset was beautiful, even more so with Mark’s company. The two of you made conversation, all the while watching how the sky that was once a pleasant array of colors dulled a deep indigo. The sun descended below the horizon and its reflection in the water was replaced by the moon.
And you - the moonlight illuminated every inch of your face. Mark had always thought that you were gorgeous, but the moonlight made your beauty criminal. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer.
“I can’t control myself anymore,” Mark growled. At first, you were confused, but when he whirled you around and pressed his lips against yours, you quickly understood.
Mark backed you against the railing, cornering you. Kissing him was too much fun. It was the same battle, the same fervent effort to compel one of you to submit to the other’s touch, yet both of you always held out, keeping your white flags lowered. Mark had never met anyone that challenged him this much, and you had never met anyone so desperate to prove a point.
When one of you pulled away, you not only were breathing heavily, but dangerously turned on. Your despires were no longer pure wants - they were needs.
“Mark,” you exhaled through shallow breaths, “Please.”
Mark cocked a brow, incredulous, yet amused. “You’re begging?”
You nodded, casting him a needy glance that nearly made him want to give you everything you wanted then and there. It wounded your pride to beg him to do anything, but you weren’t necessarily above it anymore. Lust made you do anything - and it was flowing rapidly through your bloodstream. “Please, I want it.”
That much was entertaining to him, although Mark still didn’t want to give himself to you yet. It wasn’t that he wasn’t willing to have sex with you, but he wanted to bide his time. He wanted things a specific way and hooking up with you in his car simply wasn’t ideal.
Mark shook his head. “I’m not fucking you in my car.”
You pursed your lips and fought back the best way you knew how, huffing, “Why not? Don’t wanna fuck up your expensive seats? Car sex virgin?”
“My first time was in the back of a car,” Mark told you matter-of-factly, being sure to smile in the most menacing way possible. It was only deserved for the way you left him that day that you kissed him. You wanted to kiss that stupid grin off his face, but you thought he didn’t deserve it. “And everything I wanna do to you can’t happen in a car. You’ve been patient all this time, baby, you can wait a little more.”
“Ever the elaborate controlling perfectionist are you,” you drawled, faux aggravation to your tone.
Mark entwined his fingers with yours. “But you love that about me.”
“I never said that.”
“Oh? Must I remind you of your little love confession in my car earlier?” he teased.
You rolled your eyes. “No, thank you. But I will be expecting a four-page love letter detailing everything you like about me in the mail signed ‘Markie Pooh’ soon. I like to be courted.”
Mark gave your forehead a chaste peck, grinning as he joked, “I’ll enclose it with a kiss.”
You giggled. 
Soon, Mark drove you back home and you were kissing him goodbye. It was a dramatic farewell, considering you lived right next door to him, but tonight had been magical and you were wondering where the time had gone. All you wanted to do was freeze time and kiss Mark on that bridge forever.
But you were also sick to your stomach that he still wasn’t in your guts. And tonight, you had a plan that would undoubtedly make him snap and give you what you wanted.
Last night, you gave yourself the release that your body was begging for, since Mark refused to fulfill your desires himself. And you made sure to be loud so that your intentions were obvious - ever since the last time he asked you to keep it down, you began doing an impressive job at suppressing your noises, muffling them into your pillow or biting your lip. But not last night. You called it being petty for the right reasons. That was what you were, and rather proudly.
For a little extra flare, you moaned Mark’s name. As much as it was you being petty for the sake of setting him off, it was also a self-indulging experience. Fantasizing about your neighbor was what brought you to the edge quicker than anything, and you came harder than ever with the thought of him on your mind.
Mark didn’t text you the following day. Usually, you would find time through your hectic work hours to chat, and you would spend the better half of your lunch break typing away at your phone, but it was radio silence.
It was weird. Maybe you and Mark were alike in more ways than you thought, and he was also extremely petty. But for the wrong reasons, in your opinion.
When you came home from work, Mark was standing outside his door, waiting. He leaned against it and stared you down.
“Had fun last night?”
Pretending to be oblivious as to what he was referencing, you played dumb and answered, “You mean, at the bridge? Of course. When are we going again?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Mark chastised, glaring. “I heard you last night. You seemed like you were having a good time, you know, moaning my name and all like a slut.”
Never had it ever crossed your mind that you would enjoy Mark calling you a slut, yet here you were, becoming more and more aroused the longer you pushed his buttons. With his commitment to patience, you typically never got much fun out of it, but right now he was approaching his limit and you were anticipating every second of it.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you replied, searching for your keys and acting as if you were paying him no mind.
Mark wasn’t having any of it. For weeks you had all been all over each other, the mutual lust long-established, though now you were suddenly disregarding him and it was with one clear intention in mind. He wasn’t going to give in to your tricks, but he would play along with your little game. And he was going to win.
The little remaining bits of restraint he had suddenly exhausted and Mark gripped your wrists, ignoring the sound of surprise you uttered as he dragged you into his apartment. The door slammed shut in your trail and he pushed you up against it, pinning your arms above your head as he began to kiss you with urgency.
Kissing Mark was exhilarating. Whenever his lips were flush against yours, it was as if time stopped. Everything seemed to slow down but the dangerously rapid thud of your heart against your chest and the spreading wildfire in your body. You made an attempt to free your wrists from his seemingly tightening touch, writhing against him with desire to touch him, yet whatever strength you had Mark had more and you were unable to overpower his might.
“Mark,” you exhaled, pulling away to catch your breath. “I want to touch you.”
He hummed, an idea slithering into his brain. “If you want to so bad, then beg.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, slightly incredulous, yet the feeling dissipated when you remembered who exactly you were talking to. Scowling, you said, “I begged you once and now you’re getting too used to it.”
“If you want to get your way when it comes to me, then you better start getting used to it. Now, do you wanna get your pretty little hands on me, or not?”
You sighed. “I do.”
Mark gave you an expecting look. “Then, beg.”
“You want me to get on my knees, too?” you deadpanned, shooting him a sharp glare that he seemed utterly unbothered by - and it exasperated you.
The grin on his lips then was infuriating. “Don’t worry, you’ll do that later.”
Ignoring the very obvious implication of those words, you made a face, but the look in Mark’s eyes when you met his gaze was so goddamn commanding. The dominance to his aura that you had been so intent on destroying was finally getting to you.
“Please,” you whimpered, trying to ignore how pathetic you sounded. “Let me touch you, Mark, please.”
Satisfied, Mark let go of your wrists and his lips immediately fell back on yours, the need to kiss you resurfacing. It was like resuming, pressing play and pause. There was something about hearing and seeing you beg - especially against your will - that he found so arousing. You were so resistant to his dominance and it was all too entertaining to see you finally succumb.
Your hands raced to his shirt and with his own assistance, you hiked it above his head, hands flying to his chest afterwards. For a moment, your eyes opened to ogle at him, wallowing in the sight of his bare skin. Mark began to tug at your blouse and you both began to undress one another, leaving a trail of clothes behind you as you both headed to his bedroom.
By the time you got to his bed, you were stripped down to nothing but your undergarments. Lying flat on your back, you watched as Mark took his sweet time to crawl over you. His hand moved at an agonizingly slow pace from your thighs, to your stomach, to your clothed breasts. You felt as if your breath was stuck in your throat as you anticipated what he would do next, and he finally leaned in your ear, whispering, “You do look good in blue.”
He kissed you there for a little longer, heated and passionate, then pulled you up and said, “Get on your knees.” 
Submissively, you sank to the floor without a fight, which both pleased and surprised Mark. Though the little sly grin playing on your lips was a good enough indicator that you were planning something. And you were. Any other time you would have refused to listen to him without first making an attack on his pride, but you were skilled with your tongue and had a line of people you’d been with to show for it. 
You were resolved to make him unravel - and you would.
The bulge of his dick was prominent through his underwear, of which you tugged down in desperate haste. You had wanted a taste of him for only God knows how long.
His dick sprung against his stomach and by then your mouth was watering. You took him into your palm, smiling up at Mark as you began to leisurely pump him. Your efforts to tease him only became worse, intentionally letting your lips graze the head of his dick every now and then, giving him false hope that you’d finally get to the best part.
“Don’t tease me, doll. You won’t like what’ll happen if you keep up,” Mark warned.
“Punish me, Mark,” you said, smiling broadening.
He wasn’t given the chance to respond before you took his cock into your mouth, a little grunt leaving his mouth instead. You were taking him into your mouth bit by bit, efforts to tease him still lingering. Mark grabbed a fistful of your hair and held it behind your neck.
Mark, a man of patience, was beginning to lose the thing he clung to most. He used your hair to force you down on him some more. “Stop fooling around and take it, baby. Put your mouth to good use for once.”
In pursuit of spiting him, you fooled around for a moment longer, though finally gave up contentedly after you figured that you’d frustrated him enough. Soon you were steadily bobbing your head up and down his length, cheeks hollowed, his fingers gripping your hair to control your movements to an extent.
The wet sound of your mouth sucking his dick and his little noises of pleasure echoed throughout the bedroom. You smiled to yourself slyly at a thought you were having. Mark was a groaner. 
He sounded heavenly. You were quick to discover his weaknesses, catching on to how he became noisier. Mark wasn’t the loudest guy that you’d been with, fairly moderate, but he was still unable to hide the signs that said loud and clear you were making him feel good. You looked up at him through your eyelashes and saw how pleasure was written all over his face, lips parted and his eyes closing from time to time.
That drove Mark borderline insane, you peering up at him like that - and you had already known that it would. At the end of the day, Mark was simply a man, after all. And you had men all figured out.
“Good girl. Just like that,” he praised, pushing your head down a little more.
Your fingers wrapped around the base of his cock and you stroked him all the while sucking him off, tasting pre-cum on your tongue. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was a pleasure. There was no denying he was close.
When Mark noticed you slowing down in efforts to tease him, he was displeased and decided that he had enough of your schemes. The loosened, relaxed grip on your hair suddenly tightened and he began to thrust into your mouth, taking control. You were good with your mouth and able to take it deep, but the sudden movement caught you off-guard and you began to gag.
“Just when I praise you, you decide you wanna be a little fucking brat,” Mark spat, pulling your hair again. “You just can’t listen, can you?”
You glared up at him, tears pricking your eyes, and the sight made him let out a laugh. He knew as well as the next person that you liked acting tough, but with tears in the corners of your eyes and a cock in your mouth, you looked nothing short of pathetic.
He shot you a withering look, adding, “You always act like you have the whole world in the palm of your hands. You try to get under my skin because you want to see me succumb to the same tricks you play on everyone else, but you know I won’t give an inch and you don’t know how to handle it. Wish you could see how pathetic you look when you shut the hell up and take my cock.”
Right now you wished that he would shut the hell up, but oddly enough, his words were turning you on. You silently prayed that he wouldn’t catch on to how wet you were getting with every passing moment.
Mark was close. His sentences became raspy, deep groans and his pace was relentless, merciless. Like he was trying to bruise the very back of your throat. It took everything in you not to choke out, but you refused to give him the satisfaction in seeing you in such a vulnerable state. He was already enjoying this too much.
Mark groaned, “Fuck. You gonna swallow it, babe?”
As a way of saying ‘yes’, you hummed around his shaft and the vibration was making him lose his mind. You swiftly moved one of your palms to wipe at a streak of tears on your cheeks before he noticed.
You doubted that he did. Mark was in another world, eyes closed as he was overcome by pleasure. The warmth and wetness of your mouth was everything and he was out of control, movements unrestrained. He came in your mouth with a grunt, giving your hair one last violent tug as his climax struck his body. You milked him dry, taking every bit of his cum in your mouth that you could possibly manage.
There was a noise when you rolled him out of your mouth, looking him in his eyes immediately afterwards. Mark was breathless, and so were you, but he could only smile.
You gave him a look, voice slightly hoarse from the throat-fucking as you asked, “What?”
“Nothing,” he replied, smile unfaltering, but it was obviously something. “I’m simply enjoying the way you look with spit and my cum on your lips and chin.”
You rolled your eyes and wiped yourself clean with the back of your hand. “And I was enjoying the way you looked like you were on the verge of losing your shit.”
“Funny how you’re only quiet when you have a dick in your mouth.”
Wittily, you retorted, “Maybe I would shut up if you fucked me.”
Instead of giving you an immediate response, Mark pulled you back onto the mattress, hovering above you as you lay flat on your back. “Mm-hm. That’s why you were moaning my name so loud last night, right? Because you wanted my dick?”
One of his palms slipped underneath the band of your underwear and you let out a little cry of surprise when you felt his fingers brushing against your arousal. You were holding in your breath. It had been so long since anyone had you like this and you were touch-starved, feeling completely deprived of sex and nearly the memory of what it was like.
His free hand gave a loud, resounding smack to your thigh, and you yelped. “That was a question, doll.”
“Yes,” you choked out. “Please. I want it so bad, Mark.”
“So wet, all for me,” he sighed with bliss. His fingers were now plunging inside your pussy, sliding in and out with ease. You hadn’t been this wet in ages. “How long has it been since you were last with someone?”
“I don’t know, like three months,” you guessed, not really wanting to think about it when his touch was all you could focus on. “A really long fucking time, basically.”
Mark made a face, surprised. “No wonder you’re so damn needy.”
His teasing did nothing to help and you were quickly growing impatient. There was no need to explain why it had been so long, you were certain he already knew. With your work schedule there was rarely time to meet new people and you had no one to come home to. But Mark made it too goddamn easy, and considering how hard you worked, you could use a good fuck.
“It’ll be a year by the time you fuck me,” you grumbled, impatient. What more did he want you to do? You sucked him off, begged, and yet he was still torturing you by resisting. It was like he was deliberately trying to get you to lose your goddamn mind, and knowing Mark, you wouldn’t put it past him. It was working.
Mark said nothing, looking at you blithely. And hungrily. There was still a layer of clothes obstructing the view of your bare skin, and greedily his hands flew to the band of your underwear. You bit back a whimper at the feeling of being suddenly empty, but Mark tore your panties past your ankles, and your bra immediately followed as he tugged on the straps.
The sight of your naked body had Mark’s dick throbbing and he swore then that you were Aphrodite. You were driving him past the brink of insanity. He had envisaged your body in his dreams and fantasies, though nothing could have prepared him for how beautiful you looked sprawled out on his sheets and he could only think one thing. Goddamn.
That was it for him. He was still resolved to tease you to sheer hell, but he could keep playing your games while inside of you.
You made a tiny gasp when you felt the head of Mark’s cock prod your folds. The sight of your pussy was his kryptonite - you were dripping with arousal. You wanted him so badly and he wanted you just as much. He pushed the tip in with a raspy groan and made a couple slow, shallow thrusts.
Then a couple turned into too many for you to count and you were becoming impatient. More than you already were. “Mark, hurry the hell up,” you grumbled.
“Mm, no. I think I’ll keep going like this,” Mark teased. After the way you treated him only moments ago, he wasn’t the least bit sympathetic. “I told you, you weren’t going to like what happened if you kept teasing me. Now look.”
Just like he said you wouldn’t, you weren’t liking this. He was agonizingly slow, not deep enough, and it was all deliberate. Karma was a fucking bitch.
“Fuck you,” you spat, insincere.
Mark was totally unbothered, seemingly paying you no mind as he replied, “That’s no way to talk to the man who you’re so wet for. Ask me nicely and maybe I’ll reconsider.”
Holding back a groan in fear of his changing his mind about reconsidering, you tidied up the sentence you were preparing to say to him and fixed your tone. “Mark, can you please move faster?”
“Don’t you sound so sweet when you ask like a good girl,” Mark sang. Before you could muster a response, he finally thrusted completely into you and you moaned. The way your pussy gripped him was his vice, and you stretched to accommodate his size.
In no time he also discarded his formerly slow pace and adopted a new, speedier one. The way he was pounding you was so deep and perfect and you grabbed his shoulders, desperately needing something to cling to.
This type of experience used to only exist in your head. More often than not, you winded up touching yourself to the thought of the man before you as a way to cope with your stress and lechery. You would close your eyes and picture his dark hair matted by sweat, his face scrunched up with pleasure. You would imagine the noises that he’d make when he finally felt the grip of your pussy around his dick, the way your body responded to his every touch. It got you off too quick, tempting you to march over to his apartment and demand he finished the job.
But you never did. You wanted to see him lose his patience - and you did.
“Pussy’s so damn tight,” Mark groaned, which made you grin smugly. You knew that already.
Mark leaned low and began to press soft kisses into your skin, his thumb brushing over your stiff nipples. He found you utterly beautiful, no flaw in his eyes. The breathy sounds you were making in response felt like hearing an angel.
Although you were enjoying yourself, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing and said, “Don’t be gentle with me, baby.”
Mark smiled softly. “I don’t plan to be, doll.”
When Mark was finished with your breasts, his mouth replaced them, beginning to latch roughly onto your neck. Which made you sigh out in bliss. The feeling of his teeth digging sharply into your flesh made you certain that he was going to leave Mark’s, and you were too fond of it. You wanted Mark to make you his.
Everything was too much in the best way possible. You were intoxicated by the feeling of Mark’s bare cock between your walls, striking the sweetest parts of you. Your mouth parted in too-loud moans of his name.
He gripped your throat, looking you dead in the eyes as he commanded, “Be fucking quiet.”
That made you clench around his length. At first, your eyes widened, but you recovered swiftly and your lips curled into a broad smile as you met Mark’s gaze. The look on your face right then made his cock twitch.
“You like that, huh?” he asked, tightening the grip around your neck. You couldn’t get a single coherent word out, choking, but the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head was more than the perfect answer.
Mark let go of your throat after a moment and began to watch the way your cunt swallowed him whole. It was satisfying to have you at his disposal like this. He was hell bent on taming you, no matter how many fucks it took; the more the merrier. He couldn’t get enough of the way you felt - warm, wet walls clamping tightly around his size - and he knew deep down that there was no way in hell this would be the last time.
There was no going back. He was set on you; you on him. You were different from anyone he had ever been with before, you were a challenge. Brats were something he never thought he would be fond of, wallowing in the fact that most women bent to his will. But you caught onto his behavior fast and opposed it, resolved to break down his walls, and he was game. Mark never went down without a fight, though neither did you, and he liked it too damn much.
Taming you was fun. It was something he never knew that he needed until you suddenly came into his life, providing him a little thrill and excitement on a silver platter. You were so much like him that it was all too easy to read you, to find out what made you tick. And making you feel defeated was what he got out of trying to put a leash on your wildness.
Not too long after, you were moaning in a chant, “Mark,” his words forewarning you to be quiet going in one ear and out of the other. You couldn’t help it. It felt perfect. He was so deep and so thick, making you feel full.
“Brat,” Mark hissed, shaking his head. But with how utterly disobedient you were he didn’t bother to scold you again, taking matters into his own hands by picking your panties and shoving them into your mouth. “That’ll shut you up.”
There was an instant sound of protest and likely you cursing at him, considering how you narrowed your eyes at him, but there was no way for him to tell. Mark smiled tauntingly. “Can’t hear you, babe,” he said.
You raised your middle finger in a silent retaliation, but Mark retaliated back even quicker and lifted your hands above your head, pinning them down to the mattress. You felt so fucking powerless, yet Mark had so much power over you and your body. It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t long before you could finally sense your orgasm building up, a dam on the very verge of breaking loose. Everything felt otherworldly and you swore that you were no longer breathing. Like you were gone, but your body was still physically alive and well. Pleasure ripped through every last vein in your bare body and consumed it in its entirety, swallowing you in its mass.
Mark’s pace was merciless, and when he moved one of his hands to wrap around your throat, so was the tight squeeze on both sides. It was damn near bruising and your eyes were fluttering, but you didn’t want him to stop. You were internally begging that he wouldn’t.
Your panties fell from your mouth and you took the opportunity to ask with a struggle, “Can I please cum, Mark?”
“Let go for me, babe,” Mark grunted, resisting the urge to comment on how pathetic you sounded asking for permission in your hoarse little voice. It came to him as a pleasant surprise, and a satisfying sound that left his dick throbbing.
There was no need to tell you twice. You came with one last cry of his name, back arching as you began to come undone. It was explosive, your entire body reacting to the intensity of it. Your toes clenched and your pussy gripped relentlessly around his shaft. You swore that you were beginning to see stars.
Mark pulled out and came on your stomach with a deep sexy groan, the sight and sound of you at your very climax triggering his own orgasm consecutively. His hands loosened their grip and set you free, and soon you were both lying flat on his bed, panting heavily.
“So,” he began through shallow breaths, and you braced yourself for whatever he could have possibly said next. “How’s that for a weak dick game?”
You glanced at him confused, then suddenly broke into a fit of laughter after you recalled what he was referencing. You had insulted his game. “I take it back,” you replied. “It’s alright.”
Mark raised a brow. “Just alright? Like I didn’t have to put your panties in your mouth because you wouldn’t stop screaming my name?”
“I was not screaming.”
“You were screaming. And…,”
Before he could add anything else - and you knew he would, refusing to let you live anything that happened today down - you smashed your lips against his and carded your fingers through his hair, effectively shutting him up. Mark kissed back with joy, smiling against your lips. All of the other kisses that you two shared had consisted of rough, unrestrained attempts at dominating one another, but this was slow and sweet. It was gentle, and dare you say loving.
“One more round?” you asked when you pulled away.
Mark snickered. “Don’t tempt me, baby. If we start with one it might become two.”
You licked your lips and grinned. That was useful information. “Nope, I’m tempting you. Now give in.”
Mark gave your lips another kiss, but immediately became distracted once he caught another glimpse of the swell of your breasts. “Damn, baby,” he sighed contentedly, running his hands over the shape. “I just fucking might.”
Temptations. Oh, how dangerous they were. But caving into them might have been the best decision you’d ever made - and Mark was living proof.
He was your temptation.
#mark smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#nct smut#mark lee x reader#nct imagines#mark lee imagines#mark lee smut#nct x reader#nct#nct scenarios
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Can you make a part 4 for the “ perverted “ Carl grime’s story? (p.s. I love your writing so much 💜 it’s really detailed and neat)
PERVERTED IV c.grimes
𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 3.2K
CARL GRIMES X FEM!READER
𝜗𝜚 A/N: guys i'm so sorry that I took such a huge break this took way longer than it needed, im so sorry !!
𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - ever since carl showed you how good it felt to be touched, you'd been iching for more. luckily for you, carl's got one more thing up his sleeve.
𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, p!v, dom!carl, sub!reader, fingering, mentions of past sexual innuendos, overstimulation, dumbification, kinda public!sex, innocence kink, corruption kink, praise kink, slight coercion, creampie, unprotected sex, virginity loss, virgin!reader, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷
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ever since that night in the bedroom, you've had this god awful ache between your thighs.
carl, your 'best friend' showed you what you'd been missing out on since the beginning of time. he'd had this funny thing about him, whenever he was around you had the need to palm your hand between your thighs. and now was the worst of it, you couldn't stop thinking about him.
he wasn't your boyfriend but he'd kissed you on a number of occasions. he's not your boyfriend but he kissed below your panties too.
you didn't seem to care much about the whole 'boyfriend' title. besides, everyone in alexandria seemed to know that you were his and he was yours, perhaps they even knew before you two did.
"i'll see you two in the morning." rick grimes, carl's father stood in the doorway. lately, you couldn't seem to look him in the eye. perhaps that had something to do with the fact that last night, his son's hand was down your pants and the night before that, it was up your skirt.
it seemed like you weren't the only one who couldn't stop thinking about it, carl couldn't seem to keep his hands to himself.
"night dad." carl pretended to be uninterested, flicking about a comic book in his hands.
"goodnight, rick." you and carl's sleepovers were becoming much more of a regular thing. rick said nothing but he looked at you with this certain smirk that made you think he knew everything and that was pretty scary.
you didn't get a second to think before the door was closed.
carl was swift in his movements. he discarded the comic book within seconds, tossing it onto the beside locker as he leaned over and pressed his lips on yours.
your eyes fluttered shut with the featherlight feeling, heavy breath falling through your nose. but carl didn't stop with just a kiss, slowly, the boy lowered your body so that your back was flat against the mattress of his bed and those god awful navy bedsheets.
for a moment, your mind went foggy. the pretty kiss of carl grimes was enough to have your head spinning but the sound of distant footsteps was enough to have you spinning all the way back to reality.
"carl." you mumbled in hesitance once his kisses reached the side of your jaw. though his name came out as more of a strangled breath than a word.
"mmhph." he hummed into your neck as he placed hot wet kisses against it, he was aching to kiss you further, to suck the supple skin of your collarbones. he'd showed you what a hickey was not too long ago but he was sure not to leave the evidence on your neck, per your request. you couldn't imagine trying to explain to maggie or glenn how you'd come back from carl's with a hickey on your neck.
"carl." as good as the feeling felt, you sucked in a breath and placed your dainty hands upon his shoulders. he stopped almost immediately, leaning over you to look at your face. "your whole family's here." you absentmindedly picked at the loose thread of his shirt. "they'll hear us."
carl's lips fell into this pitiful smirk. "yeah? well by all means, sweetheart, tell me to stop." you felt his knee buck slightly, rubbing against your clothed cunt that was covered merely by your panties and your pyjama trousers.
carl knew you too well.
matter of fact, carl knew your body too well.
you felt his hot breath against your neck and his lips reattatch to your skin, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses in his wake.
you couldn't help the scratching feeling in the back of your throat, the knawing knot in your stomach that had your hands pawing at his long sleeved shirt, it was difficult to stop when he was making you feel so good.
"carl..." you were in two minds, ask him to stop or ask him to keep going. you felt one of his hands trail down, the soft feeling of his fingers working against your pyjama bottoms, lowering them but not enough to show your panties.
you decided against asking him to stop.
besides, you trusted him. carl knew what was best for the both of you.
"please." you bucked your hips forward, feeling a longing for his fingers all over again. you couldn't get rid of the knawing feeling, his fingers pounding in and out of you, his tongue lapping up your juices and his voice whispering pretty things in your ear.
"yeah? want me to keep going?" you could only nod breathlessly at his words. "tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl."
didn't carl just love to hear you beg.
he'd gotten you to a point where he could mold you to whatever way he wanted you, and hearing you beg for him instead of imagining it in his own mind was something he'd never cease to adore. "please, carl, want it so bad―need it."
"poor girl." you knew his words were nothing short of mockery but you couldn't help but nod anyway. "jus' wants to be touched huh?"
all the while, your hand had attached itself around his wrist, leading it down to where you needed him. "please, carl."
you let out a breath of relief as his hand passed your panties, fingers gently circling your clit. "you're such a good girl, aren't you, using your manners 'n all?"
you felt him kiss against your cheek but all you could think about was his hand working magic against you. "uh huh." you breathed out.
"yeah, my good girl." you felt his fingers collect the wetness from your sopping hole, gently pushing them into it and watching as you gasped and writhed. "think you need something extra special tonight, hm?"
you nodded, half humming, half whimpering.
carl's fingers felt euphoric. after he had touched you the first time, you went straight home and tried to do the same over and over again. you tried to capture the same feeling he had given you but you couldn't do it, not without his hands and his voice whispering to you. which is exactly why you came back with fustrated bed head and teary eyes.
carl was more than happy to help his poor girl out.
all he wanted was for you to feel good.
like now, as your back arched against the mattress of his bed, warm and sticky juices coated his fingers that he pumped in and out of you, palm against your clit every time he brought it back.
"feel good, huh?" your nod was enough of an answer, cheeks hot and teeth piercing your bottom lip. "you're so good." and as badly as you wanted to whimper and whine, you restrained. you were well aware of the family in the room over, you couldn't help but let out a small noise from behind your closed lips.
perhaps this was exactly where carl wanted you.
your breath stuttered. "i―nghh." you tried to force the words out. that familiar feeling in the bottom of your stomach was knotting, you found it rather difficult to tell him you were close when you also felt so ecstatic.
that was the benefits of carl knowing your body so well.
"you're close, yeah?" he knew without you having to utter a word. he was leaning over you, close as your head lay near his shoulder, your heavy breaths in his ear. "'s okay, jus' say my name, baby."
unsure, you didn't give it a thought. instead, you breathed his name passed your lips. "carl." though it was more of a quiet whine than anything else.
"again, angel." his lips kissed against the nape of your neck, hearing your breaths get heavier.
"carl, hmph, carl―" you spoke his name like a prayer against your lips. all you could feel, all you could see, all you could think. carl.
the feeling of knowing that he was the only thing on your mind... well it was enough for carl himself.
"gonna cum?" he didn't leave much room for you to shake your head. instead you nodded quickly, needily. "yeah? cum all over my hand, sweetheart, that's it."
and you did exactly what he'd told you to.
you found your lips shoved against the shoulder of his top, silencing the whimpers that left your lips as your back arched and your hips bucked into his hand. with his pumping fingers and thumb that had reached up to your clit, helping you ride out your high... well it was almost impossible not to cum.
when it passed, you laid against the bed with heavy breaths falling from your lips.
he still kissed at your neck, gently nipping at the skin as he helped pull your shirt above your head.
you felt sort of dazed, almost dumb. carl always left you feeling like this. you followed his movements, pulling his own shirt above his head while his lips reattached to your own.
carl began pulling down his jeans and your hands reached out to his hips.
before you could touch him, though, his hands stopped you. "doin' something a little different tonight, okay baby?"
your confused face looked up at him but you didn't question it. instead, you nodded and allowed him to help you discard of your own pyjama pants, allowing him to trail your soaking panties off your frame, tossing them somewhere on the ground that no doubt would be gone by morning, you'd find him with a guilty but amused face as you searched high and low for them.
he began to pull down his boxers and you held your breath.
carl was big.
though, it were true that you hadn't really seen anyone before in the way you saw carl but you knew from the mere imprint of his jeans that he was bigger than quite a lot of others. not that you ever found yourself looking...
you'd seen him many times, touched him even but every time you saw him again it was like you'd forgotten all over again. he was obviously hard, judging by the way his dick stood out. your eyes trailed back up to his face, though he was already watching you, curiously.
you were stumped.
he'd stopped your hands before, not wanting you to touch him, he was doing things 'differently' but he seemed to know an abundance more than you because you couldn't think of anything else to do other than touch each other.
"carl, what are we―"
the boy cut you off with a gentle shushing. "jus' relax baby, trust me." you felt his gentle but large hands grasp at your thighs, pushing them upwards. you felt your sensitive but needy cunt jut forward while he placed both your legs flat against his chest.
this was certainly a position you'd never been in before.
you watched as he pressed gentle kisses against your ankles, a hand gently grasping your sock-covered foot.
you watched in anticipation, confusion and excitement. carl had a way of making you feel all those three at once.
he moved his hand back down to his dick, you held your breath as he rubbed up and down his shaft lining it up with your entrance. as his cock pressed against your sensitive clit, you whimpered, moving away slightly.
carl was quick to move you back. "i know, i know, you're all sensitive but you'll feel good okay? gonna make you feel good." you nodded hesitantly. "everything okay down there, huh?" he gently tapped against your head, bringing you back to reality.
you found it difficult not to hold your breath. "nervous." is all you managed to muster up. you'd both touched each other before but he'd never had you like this.
the way he leaned over you was sort of scary but he also gave you this loving gentleness that made you feel almost protected. "don't be, angel, 's just me." you nodded as his thumb ran down your cheek softly. "yeah? not nervous?"
of course it wasn't that easy, but you nodded anyway, feeling somewhat comforted.
"c'mere, you're gonna be in control too." you felt his larger hand grasp your own. he led it downwards and placed it on his practically throbbing cock. you felt bad for carrying this out, he was probably hurting. "might hurt a little bit, bunny, okay? but just give me a few minutes, make it feel so much better."
"okay." you voiced, shakily, dumbly. his hand was wrapped around yours which was wrapped around his dick. he helped you maneuver it towards your sopping wet hole and you felt his tip insert itself inside.
you let out a noise of slight pain. "i know, baby, 's gonna take a minute." he was being oh so lovely, as gently as he could as he pushed himself inside. he was almost at the end when his two hands came to grab at yours, pulling them flat above your head against the mattress. "'s gonna feel good."
as soon as carl pushed himself completely in, he was reminded to control himself.
his eyes fluttered shut. he'd been dreaming, fantasizing about this moment for too long. it took everything in him not to take you right there and then, fuck you into the mattress until there was nothing left of you. but he couldn't. your twisted up face was a reminder that while he was excited, he must take his time.
you were getting used to his length which was... a lot.
your own eyes were fluttering shut but they opened at the feeling of his dick leaving you, pulling out but just as you felt him almost leave, he rutted his hips right back in until his dick was fully inside again.
"fuck." he let out a grunt while you squeezed your face up with a noise.
you felt him move again, ready to slide out but your mind was too focused on the pain of it all. "carl, i don't―" you were cut off with an embarrassing moan as he pushed himself back inside.
suddenly, the pain feigned itself as pleasure.
the stinging stopped and you were met with a feeling you'd never quite felt before.
"there you go." his own breath was heavy as he repeated the action, this time quicker. "good girl, see 's not so bad?"
you could only nod with a moan. your eyes shut again and you willed your mouth closed.
carl began moving his hips rather quickly. all the running he'd been doing his whole life was finally beginning to pay off, his stamina was unheard of. you found yourself writhing beneath him, mouth almost sewn shut while he pushed in and out of you, his cock filling you up completely.
you began to get nervous, though. the sounds coming out of you were only going to get louder and the last thing you wanted to do was alert anyone downstairs what you and carl had been doing in his bedroom.
but like always, carl was ten steps ahead of you.
his hand entrapped both your hands above your head but he used his free one to trail downwards. you felt his hand move over your mouth, holding it closed while he pumped his dick in and out of you, watching as your eyes screwed shut in pleasure.
"oh, fuck, you're doin' so well, sweetheart." he did his best to keep up his praise, he loved watching your cheeks go pink and feeling your pussy tighten around his cock the minute the words 'good girl' left his lips. but it was hard to think of anything while being inside you.
your gummy walls kept him close, tightening around him. it was almost impossible to keep rutting in and out of you but he couldn't stop, he was like a starved man, addicted to your body. you were gushing at him, wetness creating a white creamy ring at the base of his cock.
your eyebrows were pinched, tears of only pleasure beginning to sting at your eyes.
he was leaning forward, one hand holding your wrists which so desperately wanted to throw themselves forward to paw at him. his other hand held itself tightly around your lips, your sounds were muffled against the skin but he kept his ear close, straining them to listen to the pretty sounds you could make.
you felt his entire weight on you and oddly enough, it made you impossibly more wet.
the feeling of him practically on top of you was surreal, you could feel the sheets beneath you go damp, you were making such a mess.
"'s right, angel, make a mess f'me, good girl." carl didn't seem to care. on the contrary, it was only motivating him further.
it was a sudden realization, he was fucking you. he'd been waiting for this moment for too long. it was everything he'd ever dreamed of. no, it was more.
a sharp cry from you was muffled by his hand but he knew what it meant. "someone's close again, huh?" you nodded so quickly, tears springing at your eyes while your mind seemed cloudy, blank even. you were gone completely and utterly dumb, you couldn't even think.
carl would be lying if he said he could last much longer.
he'd bathe in this feeling forever if he could but he could feel the knot in his stomach too, willing to unfold.
he was going to cum inside of you.
"fuck, that's it angel, doin' so good. wanna cum on my dick, huh?" his voice turned a little more high pitched, a neediness that you both shared, both searching for your highs. his lips quirked. "say please." he teased, knowing you couldn't utter a word.
you only whined against his hand, a whine telling him that you couldn't deal with his teasing, not now.
"come on, pretty, cum on my dick." and like every other time, you'd complied almost instantly.
he pushed his hand harshly against your mouth, roughly holding your head close to the mattress as he felt your walls squeeze against his length. you gushed, wetness pushing around his cock while he felt himself unfold at just the same time.
he fucked his cum into you as he rode out his high, curses and swears falling from his lips while your eyes rolled backwards, dumb and empty minded.
when he finished, all he could think was you.
"fuck." heavy breaths as his hands loosened against you, you took in heavy breaths as you could breathe again, his hand moving away and your wrists suddenly free. they fell on your waist, gently holding you so he could pull his dick free from your hole.
as he looked down, all he could see was both he and your cum mixing together, coating his dick and pouring out from your hole.
all he could say?
"holy fucking shit."
main masterlist/carl's masterlist
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