#have a good night anon

[knavesflames]

heyyy el

requesting politely reader ... tending to ... arlecchino with her mouth and going from starting timid to taking a bit more control to arles surprise

lots of care and love just like in the one you just posted :3

mhm ty

Hi anon<33 I hope you are doing well and having a nice night (it’s night for me). I liked this idea >:) sorry lol it took me a while to come up with a concept but I hope this suffices 😁😁😁 (hi guys the dirty words are slowly making a reappearance)

Word count: 2.2k

Contents: soft dom!reader (kind of yes), bottom Arlecchino, cunnilingus (funny word), fingering at the end, orgasm denial (ONCE GUYS OKAY ONCE), also praise (guys I’m cooked)

Songs I listened to (for fun): fantastic- king princess (is this one obvious or not), disease- lady gaga, shhh!- viviz, pivot- HEYOON, boyfriend- dove Cameron, impurities- le sserafim

There’s more but I forgot

Nsft utc<3

Arlecchino is not a receiver. She gives and takes nothing, it’s how she’s always liked it, whatever the reason may be. She has not explained, and you doubt she will. Arlecchino is very secretive, you’ve come to learn. She divulges what she must, and keeps the rest hidden. Even you, who seems to know more about her than anyone ever has, is kept in the dark about a lot of things– what exactly triggers her nightmares? What truly happened with that ‘Mother’ of hers? There are rumours, of course. Arlecchino is mad and cursed, she killed her Mother ruthlessly without reason, she killed her best friend for nothing other than a simple quarrel. You know them to be false, now you know her better, but what you can’t seem to understand is why she lets the lies fester, why allows herself to be portrayed as a cruel monster. She can’t seem to answer you.

Arlecchino also refuses to tell you why she pushes herself so hard, or why she has such strict rules for herself. You beg her to take that damn suit off constantly (for.. Multiple reasons, both you and her know that well enough– she only obliges when it ends in you as a quivering mess on the bed). “What happened to regular clothing? I know you dislike dresses, but you don’t have to force your body into that silly suit all the time.” is a phrase often uttered. Silence is the only answer given.

Silence seems to be an answer you get from her often. In different contexts, of course. Sometimes, she is silent when she is comfortable, when she is thinking, when she is angry.. You realised long ago that she is a woman of few words– and even fewer sounds. During the rare occasions you get to make her feel good (whether that’s simultaneous to your own pleasure, or before), the only sounds you really hear are the soft breaths and the slight grunts whenever you do something she particularly likes. You have made it your mission to coax more sounds out of her, even if it’s the last thing you do. You experiment with different things each time you get to make her feel good, anything remotely sexual she’s done to you, you try with her. Degradation doesn’t work, her only response is a cock of her eyebrow and a scoff. Praise is a little bit better, earning a soft kiss on whatever part of your skin she can reach. Tying her up is out of the question– she has made it abundantly clear multiple times she only enjoys the act of bondage, however small, when you are on the receiving end. It’s the case for a lot of things, and it almost irritates you. Almost. it turns out the answer is something much simpler than anything you’ve ever tried, and you mentally curse yourself for taking so long to figure it out (for Arlecchino, that was the point. She likes the game, even if she truly is trying to keep her weakness hidden).

The answer was something she had done to you almost every time you had engaged in some form of intimate act with her. There aren’t many acts more intimate than your partner giving up the ability to speak because their tongue seems to be.. Busy. You just hadn’t realised that Arlecchino would ever be on the receiving end. So, after much pleading (and begging to the point it almost seems you’re begging her to fuck you instead of the other way around), she seemed to relent. Barely.

“Let me try,” comes the soft whisper from your lips, hitting the side of her neck as you gently place kisses there. There’s no reaction, but you could swear you felt a shiver. Moving away from the milky, unmarred skin of her neck (one of the only places that isn’t marked with either her curse or an array of scars), you almost expertly push the blazer off her shoulders before slowly sinking to your knees. The carpet is fuzzy, but it doesn’t do much to soften the hard wood underneath. You can’t find yourself caring. The blazer lands on the back of the desk chair. Excited, desperate fingers tug at the buttons of those godforsaken trousers until they finally do what you want them to do. You’ve done what you can, you can’t push her hips up so you can continue to take them off, she’s stronger than you’ll ever be (you like that). “Don’t you think it would feel nice? You know it feels nice. Do you not think you deserve it?”

“I do not deserve the pleasure you give me,” she murmurs, a rare show of her inner thoughts. The woman criticises herself too much, you think. You wish she wouldn’t be so strict with herself.

“Irrelevant,” She shivers at the slight sternness of your voice. It mirrors her own. “Do you want it?”

Arlecchino doesn’t respond for a while. Her hand moves to your head, and she caresses your hair, gently stroking and tugging at the strands before she eventually speaks, a whisper, a subconscious attempt to hide the fact she’s about to chase something she never allows herself to. “Put a pillow under your knees, at least.”

You grin, so pleased with yourself. You stand again, only to sprint and find a pillow. It happens to be the pillow you sleep on, it doesn’t matter. You return to your position only to find her trousers messily on the ground, and the top four buttons of her dress shirt undone. The look in her eyes is one you’ve rarely seen– want. “Beg.” you whisper, the grin still on your face. Arlecchino’s own face twists into a frown.

“I will die before I beg for anything.” Her tone is resolute, and you sit there nonetheless, unmoving apart from the finger tracing up and down her toned thigh. You both stay like that for an agonising two minutes before she barely mumbles. “Please.”

You are incredibly aware that you won’t get more than that, so, even though you know it doesn’t do much, you mutter “good girl”. It does do something, though. You barely hear it, but her breath shakes. You take it as an initiative to start, so you let your lips find her thigh, planting wet, open mouthed kisses up towards her inner thigh. You continue, and– she’s soaked already. You’ve done exactly nothing and she’s as wetter than you’ve ever seen her. Your eyes move up to hers, a raise of your eyebrow as you open your mouth to speak, but she cuts you off before you can speak.

“Do not. I am aware of the.. situation.”

“But you’re all wet and it’s all for my tongue. Isn’t that sweet?” You’ve never been this cocky at all, and Arlecchino would be a liar if she said she didn’t like it. She tries to find words, something to refute the claim, but her words are ripped from her lips when she feels your own lips graze her clit. It’s a tiny movement, really, but one she isn’t entirely used to. The only reaction she makes, however, is a slightly sharper exhale. Until your eyes stare straight into hers and you do it again, though for longer. Then again, though this time your tongue presses flat against it. Your tongue doesn’t move, much to Arlecchino’s dismay. The hand that rested in your hair gently tugs.

“Continue.” She speaks breathily, and her words shake. You can practically hear her gulp as she tries (and fails) to calm herself, and you know she’s probably telling herself to show no emotion. Though, when you finally start moving your tongue in slow, languid motions, you hear her shaky sigh and feel her hand in your hair tighten even more. You try to find a rhythm that affects her the most, alternating between soft licks and harder presses— you find that swirling your tongue around her clit, occasionally moving down to dip your tongue into her aching cunt. Your eyes dart up to her every few seconds to catch her mouth falling open and her head tilting back. When her mouth isn’t open, she’s stifling any noise she could possibly make, gritting her teeth so hard you’re almost certain they’re going to crack. The next time you tear your eyes away from her skin and move them to her face, her eyes are squeezed shut, and only then does a quiet groan escape her.

Something seems to change in your mind, because your hands move to grip her thighs, holding them apart despite them trembling. She’s sensitive, after all, it isn’t often she gets taken care of, is it? The blackened hand not pulling greedily at the strands on your head moves in an attempt to push your hands away, but your voice vibrates against her (which of course, causes another quiet sound to slip from her). “Keep your hands on the chair.”

Arlecchino’s eyes shoot open, a gasp practically ripping through her lungs. “You cannot expect me t—“

“Do it or I stop. Let me finish making you feel good.” She scolds herself internally for letting you get too comfortable with her own tricks. Either way, it feels good and she doesn’t want you to stop, though she’d rather cut off her own arm than admit it. She doesn’t need to say a word, though, the small groans (and whimpers) tell you everything. Especially when they grow louder, and her chest begins heaving, and her voice breaks with every utterance of your name. It’s the most pleasure she’s ever outwardly expressed.

“Why did you stop?” Her exasperated, breathless voice echoes the room. You stopped just as her orgasm was reaching the peak, causing it to ebb away quickly, a sense of disappointment growing in Arlecchino’s stomach. Her eyes, now piercing into you with that familiar irritated stare, meet yours, your own full of amusement. Wiping your chin (when you’re eating pussy like it’s the last meal you’ll ever eat, it tends to get messy, doesn’t it?), you chuckle and respond in your own teasing lilt.

“You taste so good, and your pussy is so damn pretty, Arlecchino. I don’t particularly want to stop right now. You can take it, can’t you? Keep your hands still.” Her face twists into some odd mix of mortified and aroused, but your tongue meets her clit again, and the only sound she can make is something so uncharacteristic, a whine. You continue exactly what you were doing before, though this time you decide to slide a finger into her— the reaction she gave was definitely a pleasant one, her back arching off of the chair, her hands squeezing the seat of it in an attempt to keep them still. Arlecchino reaches the peak quicker this time, and despite your bossy orders, she finds herself melting into you completely, her hips grinding herself onto your tongue as much as she possibly can. It’s completely different to how she was at the beginning, her plan to remain unbothered and stoic foiled.

“Can I— please don’t stop this time.” When there comes no response from you other than a curl of your finger, she moans your name in a useless attempt to get you to answer her. You’re being mean, she thinks, and you’re using everything she does against her. “Answer me. Tell me I can cum.”

How is she still demanding things from you even in this position? She lost all control a long time ago. You find your eyes opening though, and while adding a second finger, your voice softens and you speak, voice full of affection. “Be good and cum for me, then. Now, before I change my mind. Let yourself feel good, yeah?”

Arlecchino doesn’t need to be told twice, because her hips lose whatever rhythm they had when your tongue presses flat against her, letting her choose the pace and the rhythm she knows will get her there quickest (it doesn’t take long, the woman is so sexually pent up it’s laughable). Within a minute, she’s crying out, her hands flying up to her face to cover the obscene expression she knows is there. You pay no attention, only watching every movement with a sense of satisfaction and a smile in your eyes. You keep your finger curling and your tongue still until her body stops rocking, and her hands leave her face. When her face, the one you find so beautiful, emerges from behind her hands, mascara slightly smudged, you can’t help but snicker as you pull out and away from her.

“Better?” You ask, wiping your chin once more with the back of your hand. You somehow look so smug and the look on your face pisses Arlecchino off, just a little. How you’re so calm and collected and she’s a fucked out mess sat in her desk chair.

“Yes,” she says, her voice sharper than she intends it to be really, but she continues in the same tone. “I do hope you don’t think we’re finished, hm?” Your head tilts in slight confusion, but the smile remains on your face. After a while, Arlecchino’s own lips twitch upwards, barely noticeable, but you notice nonetheless. “How could I leave you without feeling good, too? Go to the bedroom, please.”

[iliothermia]

your frankenstein golem is so melancholy and beautiful - I love what you're doing with the concepts; does he have a name? a creator?

Thank you!!! His name is Semach! The one who formed him is still around but he's quite feeble nowadays (His name is Ezdras). Semach cares for him and makes sure he's comfortable and takes care of his home. Ezdras doesn't see him as a servant, over his life they've been close friends. Semach doesn't quite know what will happen or what to do when Ezdras passes.. He's never known another golem or about them and chooses to just not think about it.

[femailment]

FROM THE CAD COMIC GUY LMFAO. thanks i couldn't remember which Buckley that was either but you gave me a good laugh :) have a great night!

😭😭😭

[allergictokiwis]

are you actually allergic to kiwis?

Yes I am lmao

[lannisterdaddyissues]

I hope something extremely painful happens to you

OUCH I JUST STUBBED MY TOE

…anyway.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Snap: *draws a Megaman-inspired Magneto*

Me: ...Perfect modernization.

wait now that its not 3AM i can do you one Slightly better

bonus:

[happyheidi]

[sysig]

Hi, sorry to be anon, but can I ask to see the Vargas family post trick or treating? Divying the goods, or just being tired from the event? Thank you and Happy Halloween!

Day 30 - Fine, but you're taking nightmare duty

[arttsuka]

Is it Wrightworth and Spirk ?

Ye...

[starheirxero]

[rez]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway

Hope Castor can help Lunar.

Or atleast point him in the right direction.

I think Lunar is finally facing himself really.

And I understand wanting him out of the house but like- why are they surprised he ran away?

Thats like what Lunar does? He ran for months after he died, him running away is par for the course. And he was gone for three days because he was in jail? They didn't even accept that, they just got mad at him for running. As if Monty hadn't actually decided he was gonna kill Lulu.

Like Lunar would probably be dead if he'd stayed, or atleast injured.

'We do still love you and youre still our little brother'

-They say as they irepibly damage any and all trust Lunar had in them at the moment and in the future.

Moon I understand you want him to actually face consequences but there's no going back from this!

Lunar will never trust you, or anyone else in this family, again.

Castor pleasepleaseplease be the one who finds him.

Ohhh how I want to see more Pollux and Castor interactions bc as I said in another ask that idk if you received Cas almost seems to be avoiding talking to her specifically about Lulu.

That or Lunar gets kidnapped again.

More specifically by the creator so gem (or even just Cas) have to save him

But with Gemini separate there's also the possibility rez or someone else targets one of the twins while the other is away so thatd be neat.

ALL OF THIS NODNODNOD!!!!!!

I think Castor choosing to help Lunar while Pollux doesn't would be really interesting from a Gemini perspective. They're the twins, they make up one astral, one constellation together. If they truly become divided over this, I would be deeply fascinated to see where it goes from there since we got so used to seeing them as Gemini—a collective entity—rather than themselves.

And YEAH LIKE. Listen. I know that to the family, because they don't actually have the full picture, it looks like Lunar is just a loose canon that attacked Earth in a fit and then dipped. But also LUNAR TRIED TO EXPLAIN THAT THEY WERE IN LITERALLY INCAPABLE OF RETURNING SOONER BC THEY WERE JAILED AND THEN REZ PUT THEM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLOBE. AND MOON JUST WENT "I DON'T CARE." LIKE CMON 😭 "why were you gone for 3 days" "i was jailed and then left in russia" "whatever i dont care" MOON WHEN I GET YOU.......

THE "I LOVE YOUS" BETWEEN IT ALL YEAH.

I'm sorry but no amount of "you are family and we love you" is going to lessen the blow of "you have basically been squatting in my house (that i invited you into and you've been paying rent for) and you're a danger to this entire family so I want you to never speak or get near any of us until you sort yourself out." ESPECIALLY WHEN MOON SAID "YOU'RE LUCKY I EVEN STILL CONSIDER YOU FAMILY" LIKE I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S WILD. Again, I understand Moon in this situation. That does not mean I don't think he wasn't insanely rude LMAO 😭

Exactly like you said, Moon cannot undo this. Lunar has always looked up to old Moon and so I cannot imagine how much more it hurts coming from him. I honestly can't imagine a clear future where Lunar is going to feel safe amongst their own family again, knowing that they all viewed them as dangerous enough to be kicked out. Honestly, I'm half expecting this to end up as "Lunar lives independently and then realizes they actually feel better not living around their family and that they were kinda awful for them on accident" HDKSHDJS

YEA MORE CASTOR N POLLUX INTERACTIONS WOULD BE GREAT...... Yesyes I have received ur other ask and I'm actually gunna answer it after this one but GHOD yeah. Seeing them disagree abt smth is so interesting and I need more of it....... If one twin is hurt tho,,,,,,, ouhg. The Angst........

[i-may-be-an-emu]

https://www.tumblr.com/i-may-be-an-emu/762253847321247744/do-you-have-a-clip-or-somewhere-we-can-see-the

Sorry to get back so long after I asked this😅

I was interested in the clip! If you'd like to share :D

Of course!! No worries at all btw :)

(The clip is a bit laggy and I’ve tried to fix it but I can’t sadly, but here you go!!)

I’ve cut some parts out so it’s just their answers and saying my name because I don’t think I should post too much of a patreon video, yk? Like I’d love for people to see it but then again it is patreon. (Its 1:17 long with the cuts so I think that’s ok)

question: Do you ship any characters from any of your content/have any favourite canon couples?

I have rewatched this clip over and over. It’s in my brain :D

(Im so sorry for taking all day to answer this ask, I saw it and planned on cutting all the clips together but it just took me a little while to be able to)

[pjsk-headcanons]

Hello, my dear friend, I, anon anon anonymous, am back with yet another headcanon

Minori buys Haruka penguin plushies. Minori loves making Haruka happy so she does what she can. Haruka is incredibly grateful for all the plushies she receives from Minori and she puts them on display or on her bed.

-Good day and Hello from, Anon anon anonymous ❤️

Ps. All of my entries to the project Sekai headcanons are gonna be dramatic :)

ALAS, I MUST GO! it's 1:30 in the morning and I have school. HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY AND FAREWELL UNTIL NEXT TIME.

.

[grimfolks]

Hi!! Wcif the outfits from pepper’s intro card and the post with all the girls as adults? Sorry, ik this might be a lot :s but thank you in advance 🙏

Sure, no problem :)

Pepper's outfit #1: top / skirt Zoya's outfit: cardigan / jeans Pepper's outfit #2: top / jeans Norah's outfit: top / jeans

[atopvisenyashill]

any thoughts about how could it be the dynamic between viserys-naerys- daeron ii in fire & blood 2?

okay so straight up the dynamic i’m MOST interested in learning about in f&b2 is the viserys-naerys-daeron ii dynamic. first of all, those first two are just UNGODLY DISTURBINGLY YOUNG when they have children. viserys has naerys, his YOUNGEST child when he is sixteen. naerys has daeron when she is fifteen. viserys is a grandfather before he is 32 years old. it is truly babies raising babies out here!! i mean fuck, daeron has baelor under significantly less traumatic circumstances but he’s still only 17 by the time he starts having kids! that’s all just wildly interesting and disturbing to me. like, that alone, how close in age they all are because they all married & started having kids at crazy young ages, explains so much about why this period has always felt particularly deranged to me (“this period” being post dance where we get this incredible string of deranged freaks from aegon iii to aegon iv that ebbs into this vaguely “we’re having a targ renaissance yay” era that erupts into civil war anyways! i LOVE this conceptually i’m so ready to be annoyed when f&b2 comes out and i’ve hyped this all up for some more dumb sex stories from another court fool ajsjs).

but then secondly, okay, when you look at the timeline- daeron is born in 153 and the birth nearly kills naerys 15/16 year old naerys. aegon iii is still king for four more years. that last year, aegon iv spends his time (and the next two years after that) shacked up with megette. then aegon spends a few years shacked up/probably raping casella vaith the hostage, before running off to war. then he spends more time raping naerys, wherein she has a miscarriage, and aegon is sent away so he doesn’t rape her to death. daeron marries myriah, has a child with her. but before that child is two, in quick succession, his father comes back home & immediately starts raping his mother again, his mother nearly dies having twins & now he has a sister younger than his son, and daena unveils her new bastard who everyone thinks is aegon’s, and baelor is so distraught by all this he fasts himself to death. viserys is king, and likely dead before daeron’s second son is born and before daeron turns twenty. suddenly the person responsible for making sure aegon doesn’t rape naerys to death are daeron & aemon, who have NO authority over aegon. this man has the audacity to stay alive for twelve more years.

that shit is insane. daeron’s father is only around when he’s raping his mom. the closest things daeron has to a father figure are his uncle who wants to fuck his mom, his grandfather who is probably busy constantly (and also only in his thirties 😭), and his batshit insane cousin baelor. his childhood is marked by almost constant instability until it stabilizes for the worse when his cousins all get locked in the maidenvault, then gets thrown into upheaval once again as baelor & viserys die and now his dad who is only around when he’s raping his mom is suddenly back in town and has total control.

and naerys. she’s like if aemma lived long enough to parent her kids, but worse bc you could argue there was fondness of a sort between aemma & viserys. aegon and naerys hate each other. she is constantly pregnant and on death’s door from the age of fifteen (three years older than her father!) until the day she dies, in her early 40s. it sounds like worse than hell to me. it is a lifetime where the only source of comfort you have is the son you birthed at fifteen, because maybe your life is a nightmare but if you raise him to be marginally less evil, he won’t destroy the innocent little girl you know is going to be sent to court to be his wife. everyone else is actively holding you hostage and applauding you for taking the abuse so well. your whole life is screaming for help and all you get is tears telling you you’re so dutiful and brave.

and viserys just. watches it all happen. of course he does! his kids are simply ungrateful! he had to get married at twelve and his wife wasn’t born in westeros so they had nothing in common and at least they have a living father, they have no idea how lucky they are. why should daeron and naerys blame him when he gave them everything because he had nothing? it’s a shame it wasn’t naerys that offed this man. i do think she was his favorite kid tho and i bet he’s not subtle about it at all.

[foolsocracy]

I can't get the idea out of my head, so please consider; MJ invites Peter out along with some of her friends for dancing. Results may vary

ok this has been SITTING in my inbox. I was thinking about drawing something but ive caved and im just gonna talk.

YES. That girl can DANCE and she loves it!! I feel in the 19th and 20th century everyone could do a bit of social dancing because thats just what people did for fun. I think the Parkers and the Watsons both taught their kids to dance 'older' stuff they would have done when they were younger, like a solid waltz, quadrille, two-step, polka, what have you. MJ learned them all with fervor. Pete... learned some of them.

I think MJ and Pete would probably do (east coast) swing most often. Because they are hip and of the times. I think Pete probably would have had MJ and Robbie get to know each other through dance, actually. Like Robbie was around the welfare center when MJ was and Pete immediately was like Yes, now MJ can practice with him and not me (ultimate backfire because how he's got 2 partners)! Harlem is definitely the hot spot for swing, with black Americans engineering the whole thing. MJ was totally ecstatic to have a friend over there to run into who was a ready and willing partner!

I do have to say that MJ is a total back lead when it comes to Peter. They will ARGUE on the floor (in good fun). She'll be like 'do that one move I just taught you!' or 'If you fumble this texas tommy i'll kill you' or 'ok on this next backstep we're doing Charleston... aaand triple step, back step.' And Peter will snark back. Whenever she really wants to piss him off she'll make him practice Balboa (he thinks it looks stupid).

[ray935sworld]

Beznaia forcefully, please?

Sure thing! Thanks for the idea! So this was intresting to write. I hope you'll like how I wrote it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. It got a little more possessive and jealous as I expect.

(Potential dub-con but everyone is happy about making out and consents to it so not actual dub-con. More lack of discussion) And allusions to NSFW content

"Satisfied" Marco Bezzecci x Pecco Bagnaia - forcefuly - 1.8k words

Sure. Pecco was definitely calm. He was known to be mostly calm and collected – if he wasn’t being irritated.  There was no anger buzzing with the same rhythm as the loud music. Why would there be? He had won the championship for the 2nd time. His veins weren't flooded with frustration. He was the king of his sport, wasn’t he? No need for frustration when his holidays had only just started. His hand definitely hadn't gripped his drink just slightly tighter as he watched Bez basically being publicly fucked on a dance floor in Valencia.

Bez was dancing with good 5 centimetre space between them, a stranger. He looked like a local men, his body tanned and his hair black. He seemed to be around their age. Maybe older. And there was no denying that the other was very hot. He was taller than Bez, a little bulkier with handsome features.

Pecco continued to watch him while drinking his vodka. The alcohol burned his mouth. For some reason he had decided to keep it in just for a few seconds longer. He felt the drops burn his cheeks from the inside. He felt the heat radiate under his tongue. Then he swallowed.

He felt it ran down his throat. It felt like daggers stabbing him from the inside. Even his stomach felt like being ripped apart. He closed his eyes for a seconds and shacked himself to made the feeling go away.

He had done it. For the 2nd time. In a row. He had won motogp. He had won the 2023 titled and therefore reclaimed his victory from 2022. He had archived what they all - included Bez - wanted. He had fulfilled his childhood dream not once but twice.

And still he felt angry. Dissatisfied. There was a pinch in his chest that wouldn't go away, no matter how many wins he got. Even winning the championship by winning the race had done nothing to make it go away. He still wasn't happy.

It wasn't the same as last year. Last year he had felt like the king of the world. Last year he felt like he could do anything he would set his mind to. He had been undefeatable. He had felt like a winner . He had been fulfilled.

But something had changed. Something had changed him since last year.

Cause now he felt like he could only get a quarter if what he actually desired. When he found the second glass of vodka in his hands, he wondered why he had even bothered ordering lemon vodka. The stuff tasted all the same to him. Maybe some people could taste a difference. But he couldn’t and he didn’t really care.

It was way past 2am. Maybe even 3... Or 4?  He had lost track of time. At some point Vale had insisted he should stop drinking. He did. For a few hours. He had water and lemonade and cola - more than he ever did in his life. But nothing seemed to help. Not even when he and Bez, Vale, Luca and some of his friends  had taken a midnight McDonald's break when changing clubs. The feeling stayed in his veins.

He hold the liquor in his hand as he watched Marco. His dark brown curls were shaking. He was throwing his head back, his neck exposed. The skin looked soft. Perfect to place a hickey there. It’d be a shame not to. He saw the sweat reflecting the damp light of the club. He felt his blood shoot up.

Yeah… He wanted to know how the Italian would taste. He wanted to know what his naked skin would feel like if he sucked it enough to create a violet colouring and present the world the evidence of what they had done together. He wanted to make him sweat like that.

He watched his best friends smiling about having the hands of another man around his neck. Seeing the scene unfold as careless as right now, made the unplaceable feeling in his body grow. He was angry. On the day - or night - of his 2nd MotoGP championship, his 3rd overall, all he felt was rage. And he hated it. Shouldn’t this be a great night? One of the few when he could get it all.

But he didn’t had it all. He fucking didn’t. Because he wanted Bez. There was no denying it anymore. He had decided on him. Maybe it had happened today or last year. Or maybe when he had cursed himself as a teenager for having a crush on the new boy in the academy and he had promised himself that it wasn’t love, just a friendly adoration for the newcomer.

Instead of him, that fucking stranger had what he wanted. Why even him? If it'd be Cele, he wouldn't feel this way. Pecco was sure about that. He had seen the two friends flirt many times and dance together. As friends. But this stranger? He could smell his attention from over here and he wouldn’t let him get away with it.

He felt the glass on his lips. The burning sensation that hadn't really left, returned. He drank again.

Then he saw Bez putting his hand on the other man's cheek. And he lost it. With a loud stomp he smashed the glass on the table. He stood up, paying the bartender who gave him a judge look. She obviously wasn't a fan of the way he treated her glasses. As a silent apology he gave her an extra tip. She hadn't done anything after all.

Then he went for Marco. All the anger, all the emotion took form. The rage in his eyes were unmatched. He went straight for the curly hair rider.

Bez spotted him before he even approached him. He gave him a short smile but his hand continued to rest on the other man's hip.

„Please excuse us" Francesco hissed at the stranger, giving him an angry look. He hoped to shoot him a clear message as he forcefully took Bez hand - the one that had rested on the other man's hip.

He pressed himself between the two as he pulled the younger rider towards the other side. As he did he whispered an audible „Bastardo" to the man. Just for good measure. He had to make sure he wouldn't try that again.

He felt Bez tugging at his hand. „Pecco!" For a moment the Italian felt like he was being scolded. Marco had apparently heard the insult and was now a little too hesitant to follow the other for his liking.

He turned around to see Bez look at him questionably. „We need to talk. Now." he hissed against the loud music. Before the other could answer, their fingers let go of each other and he instead felt Peccos arm around his lower back. He was basically now pressed towards the other side of the dance floor.

Bez decided to obey. Mainly cause he was curious what was going on in Pecco's drunk head and cause he didn't want to annoy anyone around them.

Like that, they went towards the exit.

They left the club and Bez felt the coldness of the Spanish night hit him. He smiled, happy to get some fresh air in his drunk mind. He was still able to think enough but he felt tipsy.

Pecco on the other hand only felt one thing. Hate. Desire. Anger and love. Admiration and rejection. Everything was mixed in his body and he was unable to tell one from the other.

Before he could stop himself, he acted. He  grabbed his best friend by the waist and pushed him back. He pushed him against the wall of the club and placed his hands on his shoulders. He felt his muscles. He felt how tense his whole body suddenly was.

If he had been sober enough he would have realized that it's a sign of fear. But he wasn't sober enough. Instead he just realized that this might be the only chance he ever got.

His other hand caught Bez chin. He hold it up, making him look at him. There was a weird look on Marcos face. Confusion. Fear. Maybe a hint of arousal. All in one. Not that a drunk Pecco had the brain capacity to realize that.

Instead he just kissed him.

He pressed his lips against Bez. For a moment he felt the other move his body. Without hesitation he fixated the younger one more against the cold stones. His frustration was boiling to the top. He was so close to finally getting what he wanted. He wouldn't let him slip away now.

There was a roughness as he moved quickly and demanding. He stepped even closer, close enough for their whole body to touch as he adjusted the other's jar slightly.

He had a new angle that gave him more access to those plumb and full lips that had started to move according to him. In a way he wished. He could make them move like he wanted. It wouldn’t even be complicated.

Marco has just obeyed. He had accepted being taken like that. And when he did, when Pecco forcefully kissed his best friend like they would both die any seconds, he moaned quietly against him.

Fransceso took that as an encouragement. He was determined to get that sound out his best friend once more. But more intense. More desperate. More everything. He needed it. He wanted to make him feel the same rage and frustration he had felt the whole evening.

And he started at his mouth.

All it took for Pecco to get full access was to slightly open his mouth and Marco did the same. He groaned as he felt the other ones tongue against his own. He had always thought a kiss like that might be weird, even disgusting but this feeling was nothing like that. It was everything. It was full and made him feel powerful.

He couldn’t help but wonder what that mouth might feel like if explored. Marcos breath was already hot. His whole mouth must be as well. His mouth must feel hot and wet, reaching perfection with his skilful tongue. He needed that mouth around a certain part of his anatomy. As fast as possible.

Then he let go of Marco. Both men were breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after being unable to gain new oxygen for some time.

They shared a look. Both unable to really react. Both unsure what to say. So instead, Marco rested his forehead against Pecco's head.

„That was hot" he whispered. „You wanna continue, bello?"

Pecco let out a laugh he hadn’t noticed he was holding in as his arms found their way around Marcos waist. The hate was gone. The anger had disappeared. The knot in his stomach had been uncurled. He felt satisfied. Well… Almost.

„You really think I want to stop now?"

But he knew there was a way to make him fully satisfied.