#just a-ma-zing

[beedreamscape]

Okay, just finished ep3 of Exandria Unlimited... and it just made me tear up. Not because there was anything too emotional or nostalgia for anything (being a new enjoyer), but everyone was just so good, Aabria was so damn good, the players were flowing and toying with the story tools. It just made me cry to be falling for yet another cr story.

[sharkikive]

Ken Sato with a supermodel!reader pls pls pls

Like they're dating in secret but accidentally reveals their situation and their fans go wild

OMG sure! Sorry this took time for me to write and I really do hope you'll like it <3

runway to your heart (ken sato x supermodel!fem!reader)

Summary: A baseball player and a supermodel, both celebrities in their respective fields. A relationship that had to be kept under wraps.

It was supposed to be a secret... until it wasn't.

Word count: 6,913

CW: Fluff, slightly suggestive (he def talks you through it), Ken Sato being the boyfriend of the year

A/N: I tried my best in writing this because I am not familiar with both fields (baseball and modelling) so here you go! This was purely out of my own imagination and is very, very self-indulgent because damn, who wouldn't want Ken Sato in their life? Rich, soft spoken, a good father, and the list goes on. Hope you enjoy this one just like how I kicked my feet every single time Ken becomes THE boyfriend.

***

Cheers erupted throughout the whole stadium and through the speakers, mixing in with the noise in the dressing room.

Hair rollers tucked in, brush with powder dancing across your face, and a neutral expression to let the makeup artist do his magic. Your eyes dutifully closed as the artist worked on your eyelids, but your ears got sharper to hear the conversations around you.

You knew who the main topic in the room would be, and that was the man that had just scored another point in the game on screen.

“Oh God,” you heard one of your model colleagues groan. “Ken Sato is too attractive. Look at that smile, that body-” she stopped talking and addressed you next. “Y/N, isn’t Ken Sato so handsome? Imagine being his girlfriend. That would be a-ma-zing.”

Your eyes were still closed and you hummed an immediate reply. “He’s okay. I’ve seen better and-” You opened your eyes when the makeup artist told you that he’s done with your eyes. “He seems like a cocky bastard.”

Your colleague, Hina, gave an exaggerated gasp as she heard your reply. “You did not just say that about Ken Sato. If he isn’t your type, I wouldn’t know who else would be able to satisfy you. He is the most sought-after man.”

You shrugged. “You never know. Maybe I like a single dad who has to raise a kid on his own, with him himself having daddy issues.”

Hina narrowed her eyes at you suspiciously, before prancing over and stared at you. “You know that whatever you described was very specific? Y/N,” she said, almost quietly, “are you seeing someone?”

“Yeah, I’m seeing you, Hina.”

She clicked her tongue. “You know, you always answer so smartly. One day, Y/N, I will discover your secret!”

You chuckled, watching as Hina got dragged by the stylist, prepping her to get her up to the runway. Your turn was still a long way to go, so you were left with your hair held up by rollers, while your eyes caught a notification on your phone. You read the notification and smiled, but quickly returned to a neutral expression.

The message read: It’s another win for us tonight, baby. Can’t wait to see you after this. Good luck for your show today, and break a leg. I know you’ll do great.

You typed in a reply, quickly snapping a picture of your prepped face and sending it over to the recipient. You weren’t even able to put down your phone when the next reply came in the next second.

You swore, this person could make you smile without even knowing, which could be a very risky thing considering the nature of both of your relationship.

Looking gorgeous as always, baby. The text message read. I really am the luckiest man to have you.

You put down your phone as your name was called over; your turn was approaching fast. You were practically floating around from one point to another, having different hands adding last-minute touch ups.

The line was moving fast before it was your turn, and you could see that every one of the models who finished their turn returned with a grim look on their faces backstage. You looked at the small entrance, and when you spotted Hina, you quickly signaled for her to come over.

“Was the runway condition that bad?” you whispered to her, whose hair was going in different directions at once.

“They said they wanted to simulate an ‘extreme condition’ on the runway, right?” She did quotation marks.

You nodded, agreeing to her. “Yeah.” You inched up the line. “The theme for today’s show is extreme weather.”

Hina exhaled slowly as she attempted to fix her hair. “All I can say is that they managed to replicate it well.” She shook her head. “Good luck, Y/N. You’ll need it.”

You turned your head back to the front, your turn coming closer as the models in front of you went out to continue the show. It was a rapid show, where you finally had your turn right after Hina disappeared behind a row of clothes.

You understood what Hina meant as soon as one foot was out from behind the scenes. The runway was boxed within a transparent glass, protecting the simulation from the audience.

From years of experience, you put on your best face before walking down the runway, doing your best in showing off the collection.

You were sure they were trying to imitate a blizzard, but the worst they could offer to models wearing heavy dresses and high heels. You saw the model in front of you fall first, the strong winds knocking her back before as she couldn’t fight it back.

One rule on the runway: you keep on walking, no matter the condition. Walk over your fellow models, maintain your expression and show off what you have. It’s an unapologetic world out here.

But that’s exactly the reason why you’re known as the rule breaker around here.

While maintaining your face, you did a show of reaching out to the fallen model, helping her up to let her continue, but you figured this time around, being a rule breaker did have its consequences.

You knew the fallen model; she considered herself as your rival, always trying to one up you in every single aspect. Every, single, aspect including boasting about having a ‘sweetheart’ while you don’t.

Your rival, Mei, quickly took this as a chance to get back at you and embarrass you in front of the audience. She accepted your hand at first, but you realised that she was pulling you down instead of pushing herself up. Not enough with it, she added an extra push, disguised under the pretext of accepting your help to get up.

You were thrown to the side, and coupled with the condition on the runway, you almost tumbled off the path. Luckily, you managed to break the fall but as you landed sideways, you could feel the bruise forming near your right ankle. You cursed silently as you saw Mei picking herself back up and smirking in a split second before strutting away, leaving you stranded.

You knew no one was going to help you up as long as the show was on, so you braced yourself while continuing. Throughout the whole show, you managed to finish without breaking rhythm. You didn’t let the pain hinder you, although all you wished to do was to be lying down, giving your body a much needed rest.

Backstage after the end of the show, your manager, a sweet woman in her 40s, quickly rushed to you. A single mother of 2, Ms. Tornado as you’d like to call her, as she always seemed like she was caught up in something chaotic. She fussed over you, but you quickly brushed her away.

”Ms. Tor,” you cooed, hiding the pain with a calm demeanour, “I’m done for the day. Let’s go back.”

On the way out, you gave a signal of reassurance towards Hina, who looked worried while her right fingers were tapping on her left knuckles. You saw Mei smirking at you, offering no words to you. You gave her no satisfaction of seeing you in pain as you smiled back.

You knew that everyone had seen you fall on the runway, but that didn’t disturb you.

Your phone pinged with a notification. As you read the message in the car, you turned to Ms. Tornado on the driver’s seat. She understood your signal.

”Usual place?” she asked.

Unable to hide your excitement, you quickly nodded.

No further questions asked as she drove towards the city border, bringing you to one special spot you had practically owned with that one person. In fact, you’re sure that he had bought ownership over the whole area. Your smile grew wider as you spotted the person waiting on a camping chair with an empty one next to it, a campfire lit up.

You sneaked up from behind, forgetting the pain in your legs as you broke into a run, almost causing the person to tumble forward as you hugged him from behind.

”Kenji!” You exclaimed, your character a total 180 degrees from whatever you put on when you were ‘the supermodel who revived the fashion scene’.

With him, you allowed yourself to be comfortable; no pretense of having to check your posture, controlling your expressions or giving off a cold demeanour. With him, you were just Y/N, the girl who preferred to be nested in your home, finishing your time up by watching your same favourite shows over and over again.

Kind of ironic how you considered yourself an introvert yet landed a job that essentially thrusted you into the spotlight.

Kenji exclaimed your name back in the same energy you gave him, hugging your arms as he planted a kiss on the back of your hand. He stood up and dear God, you love this man so much. One of your features that contributed to your modelling career was your height, but you loved the fact that even then, he towered over you.

Ken Sato, the name that had revived Japan’s baseball team, who had acquired a celebrity status after essentially becoming the saviour.

Ken Sato, the man who had kept the audience on the edge of their seats as he scored yet another point in the game.

Ken Sato, the one man who had essentially saved your life while unironically revealing his one kept secret to you.

And Ken Sato, your boyfriend.

Though both of your relationships had to be kept under the radar due to your statuses, you were content with what you’re having now.

Who cares if people think you’re too ��cold’ and that’s why no one wants you? A small smile played on your lips as you thought, Well, Ken Sato does.

How both of you met was bizarre, to say the least. You were out eating dinner alone, under the disguise that you always wore when you’re just a ‘normal’ citizen, when the ground shook. You were sure that there was a monster attack somewhere, but you were calmly eating dinner when the restaurant’s roof got lifted up.

Ultraman’s giant figure was punching the monster, and you were left gaping at the sudden loss of roof above your head. You quickly finished up your dinner, and when you were about to walk back to your condo, you saw the one thing that you were sure you shouldn’t.

You saw Ultraman shifting back into a human-sized figure and lo and behold, it was Ken Sato. Before, you never bothered to dig deeper into his life because you figured out that you would never be affiliated with the baseball scene. You knew he was famous and that was it.

You couldn’t believe your eyes so you gasped, but your hand wasn’t quick enough to muffle the sound until he turned back to look at you. Both were stone statues for a good minute before he finally spoke up at that time, “Um… can you keep… uh the… secret?”

You sure as hell did keep the secret that even after a drunken stupor, a one night stand then turned into a secret relationship with him, it was still safe with you.

You were so comfortable with him up to the point that it was nice to be yourself with him.

”What’s wrong, baby?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, bringing you back to the present. You inhaled his scent as you buried your face in his chest. “You’re thinking of something?”

You shook your head, tightening your grip around his waist. “Nah,” you mumbled. “Just thinking about the time we first met.”

He chuckled as he ruffled your hair. “I’m sure you did great in your show just now, hmm?”

You stayed quiet, debating or not whether you’d like to tell him what actually happened. He most likely hadn’t seen the show yet, but sooner or later he’d find out. It’s just a matter of now or later.

You were in your comfortable clothes; baggy t-shirt with cargo pants and hair tucked underneath a beanie. In public, people would usually leave you alone when you’re in this attire. Today though, the long pants were also an attempt for you to cover up the growing bruise.

You decided to keep quiet about the bruise, figuring later that he would find out and by then, you hoped it wouldn’t look as bad as it was now. You detached yourself from his hug, careful to not make it so obvious that you were limping. You took a seat, beckoning for him to come over.

Ken traced you with his eyes, lips locked before he smiled. He passed by his seat but didn’t settle down. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the sand, facing you. He leaned forward, crossing his arms with each other on your legs and rested his chin on top. He looked up at you, that same boyish smile he had whenever he was with you.

You looked at him, uttering, “Looks like my boyfriend won yet another game today.” You patted his cheeks, and he quickly grabbed your hands to hold them.

”It was the team, really,” he said humbly, but with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I was just one of the players.”

”Whatever you say, Mr.-eligible-bachelor-with-thousands-of-adoring-fans-waiting-to-be-picked.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled. “Little do they know,” he drew circles on your palm, “that I’m no longer available.”

He stared at you as you looked into the distance, the crashing of the waves filling in the silence between both of you. He stood up, cocking his head towards the shoreline. “Wanna go for a walk?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line, the trouble you had with your feet coming once again. You didn’t get a chance to answer as he knelt in front of you with his back towards you.

He gently pulled you on his back, your legs dangling on either side of his body as he piggybacked you. “Okay, let’s go for a walk,” he said, firmly placing his hands under your thighs.

You said nothing, circling your arms around his shoulders, your face buried at the nape of his neck. You loved the fact that you’re always calm around him, something that you’d always need after spending hours in a fast-paced environment for work every day.

As you walked along the shoreline, both of you pointed out stars shaped like objects, and he stopped at one point when you suddenly said, “I love you so much, do you know that?”

He laughed. “What’s with the sudden confession? I love you too, baby.” He gave your thigh a light slap. “And I’m glad to call you mine.”

”It’s time to go back, isn’t it?” You asked, hoping the answer would be no but knew the world would have to end for it to be.

He threw back his head to get a look of your face before uttering, “Sorry. I have a game tomorrow.”

You pouted slightly but knew that the circumstances wouldn’t change. Whether you’d like it or not, even though you didn’t mind your relationship was playing this way, both of you had your individual lives that didn’t intersect with each other.

Dates would always be a secret with limited areas you could go to, and you had to make sure you’re not seen within the vicinity of each other. If both of you needed to go to each other’s house, it felt more like you’re on an undercover mission.

Today, though, with you still on his back, he held onto you firmly and made his way back to his bike parked nearby some bushes.

”Kenji-“ you started, figuring that maybe he forgot that both of you were supposed to follow separate ways.

”Tell Ms. Tornado you’re staying at my house tonight,” he uttered, placing you on his bike’s seat, taking a helmet and helping you to put it on. “You’re sleeping at my house today.” He checked his watch. “I know that you don’t have any work scheduled for the next few days, right?”

You shook your head slowly, secretly happy that he actually kept track of your schedule. Your eyes searched for his from behind the visor, and you blinked slowly as he tapped your helmet.

“Stay at my house until you’re fully healed. Mina can take care of you.” He’s referring to the supercomputer his parents had programmed. He wore his helmet and leaned forward. If not for both of your helmets in place, he’d be resting his forehead against yours. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue staying until…” he winked, “whenever.”

He positioned himself in front of you, powering up his bike. You leaned forward, circling your arms around his waist.

Before your voice got swallowed by the roar of his bike, you said, “You knew I was hurt.”

Underneath his helmet he smiled. “I always do, baby. Always.”

***

One of the reasons you didn’t want to stay at his house for too long was because you knew you’d be too comfortable. It seemed that after the fiasco you ran into with Mei, Ms. Tornado told you that she was suspended from any work and your agency gave you time off.

So here you were, warm mug of coffee in hand, cross-legged on Ken’s sofa while wearing one of his hoodies. So far from your side, your manager was the only person who’d known about your secret relationship with the baseball player. You’re grateful that your agency was not the type to pry into your private life, so long it didn’t affect your work.

You made yourself right at home at Ken’s house. You could say that you became best friends with Mina, with her occasionally sharing stories about how Ken was when growing up and you helping her around the house.

You sunk in the plush sofa, watching a live show of another one of Ken’s games. You saw him turn to the camera, winked and did a secret sign that was directed at you. Seeing how he’s so expressive, you wondered whether Ken actually wanted your relationship to be public.

Even then, you wondered whether anyone actually noticed that Ken started doing the same pose to the camera whenever he scored a point, after he got into the relationship with you. Maybe the secrecy of your relationship was just held back by a single click to post on the Net.

As far as you knew, only five were aware of this relationship; both of you, your manager, Mina and Kenji’s father.

Rather than your own reputation, you’re worried more for Ken’s image. He just moved here from America, carrying the expectations of everyone who had set their eyes upon him. He rose to fame real quick, while you’d already established your foundation right in your hometown as you were raised through a family generation of models.

Night was approaching, and you did catch a message from Ken updating you that he would be joining the group dinner to celebrate their win first. He promised to come back as soon as the dinner was finished. While waiting for him, you caught Mina’s red bar from the corner of your eyes and you smiled at her.

“Y/N, Ken had actually asked me to ask you one important question.”

“Sure, what is it, Mina?”

Immediately, Mina displayed a projection showing a website of a furniture store. She changed the page to the ‘bed frames’ category.

“I was told that the bed broke last night. Ken told me this morning to ask you which ones would you prefer,” Mina said without any hint of emotion. “He didn’t want to disturb you while you’re sleeping this morning.” After remembering another point she added, “He said make sure to pick the strong ones.”

You, on the other hand, were already burying your face in your hand as your cheeks reddened. “Oh my God,” you groaned. He could go one day, one day, without making you blush. It didn’t help that Mina was delivering the message so robotically. Well, she was one, but you get the point. “Mina, can we talk about this… some other time? Don’t worry,” you pressed your lips into a thin line as you remembered how exactly the bed broke last night. “I’ll tell Ken that you delivered the message well.”

Mina backed up, doing her gesture akin to a nod. “Sure, Y/N.”

You turned your head towards the front door when you heard the door opening, and you stalked your way to your boyfriend, who was holding his jacket in his left hand. Your face fell when you saw that he was wincing, the skin near his eye bruised and his right hand gently pressing over the injury.

“What happened to you?” You fussed over him, requesting Mina to take a bucket of ice and a cloth. “Who did this?”

He winced once again, but grinned soon after. He threw his jacket on the sofa and grabbed your waist, kissing you, hard. It was like he was releasing whatever pent up frustrations he had the whole day, drunk in your kiss that you felt out of breath as soon as he let go.

You saw Mina hovering nearby, clearly not wanting to disturb both of you. You cleared your throat and Ken ran a hand through his hair.

Mina set down the requested bowl of ice and cloth, but Ken shook his head.

Ken uttered, “Mina, can you please bring a bucket of ice to the bathroom? I’d like to soak myself in the tub.”

“Sure, Ken.”

“Ken, you need to tell me what happened to you. You’re injured, for God’s sake!” Your eyebrows knitted in worry, but your boyfriend was displaying the opposite as he was happily dragging you along to the bathroom.

He only gave you a peck on your forehead as Mina helped to prepare the bath.

You wouldn’t let your eyes off his injuries, assessing how badly he was hurt. As Mina excused herself to leave both of you in the bathroom alone, he stripped and stepped into the tub. The water sloshed around as he settled down, and you gritted your teeth as you sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He lifted up his eyebrows, clearly teasing you. “Care to join me?”

You sighed, clearly dissatisfied at how he’s acting while not disclosing about what had happened to him until he returned with a black eye. You crossed your arms, not wanting to submit to his pleading eyes, not until he told you what happened.

Clearly, you were not strong against this man because now both of you were stark naked in the cold water, Ken hugging you from behind as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Now tell me what happened.”

Ken obliged. “So we went for a celebratory dinner at this one grilled meat restaurant.” He buried his face at the nape of your neck. “There was this one group of guys who clearly were too drunk. One of them,” you felt his arms tightening around your waist. “Was making inappropriate comments about your body. My girlfriend. Of course I got pissed and punched him. It was an easy fight, but I was unlucky to get this one hit. I won, of course.”

The knot in your stomach got undone, that heavy feeling finally lifting off as you laughed, relieved. You leaned backwards, muttering, “Oh, Kenji. My idiot Kenji. I really thought you had an encounter with a hater, someone that wasn’t afraid to punch you in public just because they hate you. I was so worried. But didn’t your teammates suspect anything? For you to react that way when they’re talking about me.”

“Even if they do find out, it doesn’t matter. Anyone who speaks like that about you deserves to be punched, baby.” The water sloshed around as he turned you around so that both of you were facing each other. He rubbed a thumb over your lips, his mouth lifting at the corners. “And guess what?”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I got a personal invitation from one of the biggest sports brands here. They’re inviting me for an official photo shoot for their new attire collection.”

“That’s amazing, Kenji!” you exclaimed, and he shook his head, a smile plastered on his face.

“And you know what’s the best part? It’ll be a duo photo shoot, a collab with one of Japan’s famous models.”

“A man?” you asked, still clueless.

“A woman.” He grinned, “With my woman.”

“Oh!” You slapped a hand to your forehead, not believing that you hadn’t caught on when your manager had told you that you would be having an upcoming photo shoot with one of the most famous athletes. No wonder Ms. Tornado looked all smiley when she was delivering the news.

“They were surprised when I agreed to it without much questions,” he said. “Said yes as soon as I heard your name.”

***

Your leg was all healed, Ken’s bruise subsided, and it was finally the day of the photo shoot. Obviously, both of you had to come from a different place and at a different time to avoid any suspicion, so the night before you had returned to your house, despite Ken showing you his puppy eyes to make you stay.

You left without looking back, having to reassure him that both of you would see each other tomorrow.

The day came. In the makeup room, both of you had your lips locked, only a slight nod of greeting when he first came in before you returned your attention back to the mirror in front.

God knew how much Ken Sato was holding back from pulling you into a hug as soon as he saw you in the room.

You saw him from the corner of your eyes, his eyes closed as he let the brushes and artist do their work. You smiled, your mind thinking about how Hina would most likely go crazy once she heard that you had landed a job with this famous baseball player. You figured that you’d let her find out by herself once the official photo shoot had come out.

In the studio, both of you exchanged a formal greeting before the photo shoot started, and you could see that Ken was trying to hide from forming a smile on his face. As the camera started clicking and poses were thrown, you could hear the photographer yelling out encouragement, including ‘Don’t be shy with each other’ and ‘Stand closer’.

You heard Ken slightly snicker, and he whispered to you subtly, his lips slightly brushing your earlobe. You shivered, and he was smart enough to not let anyone see what he was doing. “If only they know how close we are.”

“Last set!” The photographer announced. “This time around, I’d like to see some contact with each other. No looking like you’re two magnets repelling each other, but attracting each other instead.”

“Oh I can do that,” Ken said smugly as he followed the photographer’s instructions.

Funnily enough, he was the one looking like he had more experience in modelling as he followed the photographer’s instructions to a T, while you felt more like a deflated balloon guided by your boyfriend.

You promised you were a professional model, but with him, well, you faltered and posed like you’re a novice instead. Still, you managed to pull through the photo shoot as the photographer gave a thumbs up, fully satisfied with the session today.

You took some time to relax after the photo shoot alone in the dressing room. As you were leaning against the chair, your head turned to look at the door that just opened.

Ken’s head popped up through the space and he waved his hand. “Hey,” he whispered. He looked over his shoulder before slipping into the room, locking the door behind him.

“Ken Sato,” you said, more of a warning. “What if someone sees you coming in?”

“It’s fine,” he walked over to you, and lifted you up in a hug.

Naturally, your legs coiled around him as he firmly placed his arms around you.

“I wanted to say goodbye in person before I leave for my game this evening. You’ll watch the game live, right?”

“Of course, I’ll be there.”

You practically jumped away from him as a knock came on the door and panicked, you opened the closet door before shoving him inside. You shut the closet tight, catching his eyes trailing your movement through the bars before putting a finger over your lips to signal silence. Steadying your breath, you opened the door to find the photographer standing outside.

“Oh hey, uh…” you trailed off as you realised that you didn’t know the camera man’s name.

“I’m Yuichiro,” he extended his hand to offer a handshake, but you politely declined with a nod of your head. “It’s uh,” he nervously chuckled. “I thought that you looked great and I found out that we’re the same age. I was wondering if you would like to, you know, go have coffee sometime. As in, uh, I’d like to take you out sometime.”

“Oh, really?” You swore you could feel Kenji’s stare digging through the man’s skull as you stole a glance towards the closet behind you. “That’s too bad because I uh,” You silently prayed that Ken wouldn’t suddenly spring out of the closet. “I am too busy. I don’t even have time to drink coffee myself.” You gave a professional smile, hoping that the man would take the hint and walk away.

“Not even coffee?”

“Not even coffee.” You sighed, shaking your head. “I don’t drink coffee, actually.”

“Oh.” He looked surprised. “But I thought I saw you drinking coffee this morning at the set.”

You shook your head, pretending to be disappointed. “I’m afraid you are hallucinating, my friend. I don’t drink coffee. Anyway,” you clapped your hand, “I need to get ready to go to my next destination for another photo shoot, so if you could please leave?”

He looked disappointed as he nodded. “I mean, yeah. Please go on your way. Sorry to take your time.”

You smiled politely but as soon as you closed the door and locked it, you jumped over to the closet, the door creaking as you pried it open. You saw Ken sitting on the floor, elbows resting on his knees as his bangs curtained his eyes. You sat down in front of him, moving his bangs out of his vision.

“Kenji…?” you started, trying to gauge his emotions. 

He stayed quiet for a few moments, and you poked his stomach when it seemed like he’s not budging.

“Are you okay?”

He breathed in and out, before looking up. His eyes caught yours, but still you couldn’t read his expressions. “I experienced this new emotion,” he finally said.

You inched forward.

“You’re doing great, baby.” The compliment came out of nowhere that you were slightly taken aback.

“Kenji,” the grin on your face grew wider, “were you jealous?”

He never broke off his stare to you, and you found it so attractive. “I was.” His eyes dropped to your lips. “I was stopping myself from jumping out of the closet and announcing that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you uttered, ruffling his hair. “You better get going. You have a game to win.”

“I sure do.” He stood up and you mirrored his actions. Before he turned to leave, he kissed you on the lips and whispered again as he peppered kisses on your neck. “With this jealousy, let’s just hope the bed won’t break again tonight.”

***

Of course you lied to the photographer to politely decline his advances. Your schedule was free this evening and you had promised Ken you would see his game live. You dressed as inconspicuously as possible, donning on the merchandise jersey they sold to the public.  

Ken had offered you to wear his jersey, but that would practically mean announcing your relationship to the public. Tucking your hair under the cap, putting on fake glasses and looking at yourself in the mirror, you figured how Clark Kent had managed to turn people’s suspicions away from him being the superhero.

Now, you’re just one person among the thousands of show-goers filling up the stadium. You took up your seat, eager to witness the game Ken would be joining. Announcement blared throughout the stadium, signalling that the game was about to start. You heard your boyfriend’s name announced as he stepped onto the field.

Giants’ supporters cheered for him, and you joined in on the hype as you saw him giving his million-dollar smile to the crowd. You waited for the game to start, and truth be told, no matter how many times Ken had explained the rules of the game, anything barely stuck to your brain. Still, you tried your best to support him even though that meant cheering for him blindly whenever the others did.

The crowd went wild again as the Giants scored yet another point.

You got distracted by a notification coming to your phone. You wanted to ignore it, but as you saw Hina’s name as the sender, you had to sit down and open the message. She rarely texts you out of work, so there must have been something out of the ordinary. You felt your heart drop as you read the message, and a link towards a news website was sent together.

Your eyes caught her message first. Oh my God?! You’ve been dating Ken Sato?

You read the headline next. BREAKING NEWS: BASEBALL PLAYER KEN SATO AND SUPERMODEL Y/N IN A RELATIONSHIP?

You stood up together with the rest of the cheering crowd, but you had to wrestle your way through to make your way out of the stadium. You didn’t know what to do, Kenji was still in game and your feet almost gave way as your shaky hands opened the link to read the news.

Everything was summed up in one news article, and you felt your world getting smaller as you saw the pictures of the night Ken had piggybacked you after you hurt your leg, all obviously looking like they were taken in secret. You read through the whole article, your ears deafened by the sound of roaring cheers inside the stadium.

You were standing outside the stadium, and you looked back at the giant screen you could see displaying yet another shot of Ken doing his signature pose to the camera. You turned back to the news article in your hands, and read through the whole thing over and over again. Several lines caught your eyes, and you finally caught on who was behind this.

Photographer Yuichiro handed over the pictures of the two lovebirds having a secret date at the private beach, which was purportedly owned by Ken Sato. From the pictures taken, I’m sure everyone would come to one very obvious conclusion. The question is; do you find the relationship surprising, or are they a perfect match for each other?

You wondered if it was all planned by him; the photo shoot together with Ken. Was he testing to see whether you’d accept a date with him to assume whether you’d have a boyfriend or not?

You wanted to run away. But from what, exactly? Running away wouldn’t solve this problem.

Well, if it turned into a problem.

Cheers erupted again as you returned to the stadium, just in time to see the final score and then celebrating the Giants’ victory. Chanting swimmed through the crowd, and you gripped your phone tightly as you searched for Ken among the players.

You finally spotted him at the bench, and your mind was as equally noisy as the audience around you.

He looked in your direction, trying to search for you but before he could catch your eyes, his shoulder was tapped by a fellow teammate, showing him an article displayed on the screen.

Everything happened fast, you didn’t know that it was possible as your worst fear came to life in front of everyone. The giant screen in the stadium displayed the news article and the pictures of the both of you displayed in a slideshow. You could hear shouts of confusion and gasps among the crowd as all of them were looking at the same thing.

The noise of the crowd died down as Ken made his way to the edge of the field, where an interviewer was waiting to start the session. The topic of the interview was supposed to be about the win at first, but it had clearly turned into a different direction.

The camera focused on Ken, and you knew he was directly looking at you. He looked calm, the practised smile he had on whenever he appeared on screen.

“Ken Sato,” the interviewer started, as he looked into the camera, “The name that is no longer a stranger to every household. His return to Japan brought waves and hope to the Giants. But today,” she turned to him, “it seemed like you’re the focus on the interview for an entirely different topic. Who knew that this eligible bachelor was actually already taken? I have the man here with me, so, what would you like to say?”

The crowd was obediently silent as they waited for his answer. You felt your heart beating loud in your chest as you, too, anticipated what he would say.

For a split second your mind wondered whether he would vehemently deny the news, but you brushed that thought away. You trusted him.

“I do have a question for everyone here, first, though.” Ken swept his vision across the crowd. “Is it a sin for a celebrity, or at least someone who is quite well known by the public, I mean,” he shrugged, “I don’t wanna sound like I’m boasting or that I’m too full of myself thinking that I’m famous.”

There was a ripple of laughter through the whole crowd.

“Is it wrong for me to be in a relationship?”

Silence. A dread coming over you as you quietly anticipated that there might be protests coming from the crowd. No one spoke up until you heard a female shouting from the crowd, “No, it’s not a sin! Well, we would be slightly sad that our favourite bachelor is no longer available, but you’re still human!”

Your eyes travelled to the female shouting, and realised why the voice was so familiar. It was Hina. She saw you looking at her and she grinned, giving a thumbs-up.

“Thank you, random woman from the crowd,” Ken uttered. He turned back to the camera. “I think that answered the question. I’m still human,” he shrugged, his eyebrows lifting up as he announced, “and I fell in love with Y/N. We are happily in a relationship. I’m proud to say that she’s mine.” His eyes finally fall towards your direction. You could only discern his expressions and gestures from the big screen because he was too far from you. “I love you, Y/N.”

There was a momentary moment of silence that you could hear a pin dropping, and you feared that maybe, the public wouldn’t take it so nicely.

But soon, the whole stadium shook with cheers from the crowd. This time around, they were chanting both Ken's and your names.

Okay, so this was not the reaction that you had expected.

You saw Ken gesturing to you, asking to meet you privately after the game. You nodded, pointing to your phone to say that you would communicate through text.

He sent you a message for the meetup point, and you practically ran towards where he had wanted to meet you.

You saw him at the end of the empty hallway, the noise in the stadium a distant sound now that it was only the two of you. You ran into his arms and he caught you, laughing. You let your breath steady first before saying anything.

“Ken Sato… you…” you started. “You have this way of wording things. I never expected the whole crowd to just agree with you.”

“Hey, look at me.” He tilted your chin, and he gazed upon you. “Like I said, we’re still humans.” He kissed your lips. “And I fell in love with you.”

“Hmm…” You hummed, still feeling slightly worried.

Ken opened the article, scrolled down to the comments and showed them to you. “See, they’re all positive comments.” He cleared his throat, doing his best imitation while reading the comments. “Oh my God, they’re a perfect match for each other! I knew they were dating, it would be weird if they didn't date. Honestly, I don’t know how it happened, but I’m happy for them. Y/N, you’d be better off with me-” He stopped reading when he read one comment that irked him. “You know what, I’m going to report that last comment.”

You burst into laughter seeing how he was tapping furiously at the screen, blowing out an air of satisfaction as he finally reported the comment.

“There, problem solved,” he announced.

“You know that probably some time in the future that there will probably be people who won’t be satisfied.” You sniffed.

“Well that’s too bad.” He bumped his forehead against yours. “Because you’re already mine.”

[gamblersdoll]

heybae i got a request that’s been on my mind 😩 so like, imagine mha pro-hero boys s/o wearing pheromone perfume for their date and them not being able to get it together 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

+ their s/o being clueless to why theyre acting like that🗣️

teasing, heavy smut intended themes, grinding, groping, light shocking, mind control , daddy kink. denki, kirishima, izuku, bakugou, shinso

izuku had the best smell ever, sure you rolled it on your neck and wore the dress that he loves— and it only smells like shortcake to the naked eye and nose, but for him? you smelled different, his arks wrapping around your torso and nose buried into your neck.

“smells good.. which one is this?” he mumbled in your skin, softly nibbling at the flesh until you responded. “you best answer quickly—“

“its a new one, zuk.” you giggle, trying to pull away and look alright for the eyes of the public. what you worry is if izuku was all over you, would his rankings drop?

“well i gathered that, baby.” he sarcastically says, a hand on your thighs and he grips— hard. “we wont be out here for much longer, ‘kay?”

“we just got here… why do you wanna leave so early?”

bakugou knows of the pheromone perfume that went viral, yet he doesnt know what it smells like exactly. all he smells on you is something savory in his nose, even if it was sweet. “nope.”

“no what?” you innocently ask, leaning against his shoulder and holding his hand. you know he smells it, his knee bouncing when he gets nervous or aroused.

“you know fuckin’ what, brat.” he growled to you, trying his best to keep his composure and not eat you up here— because thats all hes thinking about. “you wore the good smelling perfume you got, and you know damn well you smell too good.”

“what perfume? most of the perfumes i have are mists or oils.” you giggle, putting a hand on his knee.

“you better move your hand or im going to fuck you up.” he deadpans, his hand gripping your hip and sliding up to the side of your breast. “if yer’ gonna play dumb, fine— but let’s remember i dont care about fuckin’ in public.” he reminds.

denki just shifts all the time, pulling his sweats or jeans down and hes got a fist on this lap, every now and again hes softly punching his lap when youre not looking (he does this because ‘it helps the boner go away.’)

“you okay, honey?” you asked, holding his hand and kissing his cheek, he never not responds, but he feels like hell when you get so much closer.

he tilts his head back away from your face, watching his adams apple bob when he swallows. you get into his lap, he groaning and putting his hands on your hips. “denkiiiiiii, whats the matter, baby?”

“we gon’ fuckin fight.” he looks to you through his lower eyelids. “you got that phe-pheromone shit, didnt you?” your core tightens, his voice becoming deeper when he keeps his head back.

“what for? im not even wearing perfume.” you giggle, cradling him and having each leg on his side.

“oh, so im delusional?” he shoots his eyes to your face, hands groping your breasts pulling the shirt and licking his lips. “if you think im delusional, say that.”

“kaminari— we in public!” you whisper shout, trying to move his hands but he swats you away.

“oh, nowww we’re in public?” he dramatically says, tilting his head back up and sucking on your collarbone. “always touchin me and shit.. now im going to touch you, mama.”

you hiccup, a whimper from your throat and he presses his hips up against your heated folds. “kami—“

“fuck, smell so good, sweet thing..” he growls, taking his finger and a small zap hits your thigh. “hehe, feels good, doesnt it?” he asks, licking his hickey that he left on you. “finally got cher’ zing, ma.”

kirishima is a mutt, anything that smells good on you, he bites and drools on your skin to see what smells good. usually he would try and do that— but this time he had to keep his hands to himself. “pleasepleasepleaseplease..”

“hm?” you turn, peering your eyes away from the movie.

“please let me bite you, please beautiful. promise i wont bite so hard again, i swear.” he whines, getting closer to you in the movie theater seats. “you smell so good, pretty please?

“i smell good ?” you question, him shaking his head yes fast and he reaches in for a bite, but you pull away. “what do i smell like, kir?”

he pauses, not really knowing how to describe the scent, but he swallows thickly. “.. i dont know how to describe it.” he whines, pressing his hands on his lap and he groans. “please, just one bite.”

“if you cant tell me what i smell like, do you think you deserve it?” you tease, getting a little mean with him and he pouts.

“you smell like pears.”

“still not getting one.”

shinso has stolen your perfume before and tested it on himself, but he didnt realize you had also worn it around him. it makes sense, one day on a coffee date you both get stares from people around you.

“do you have something on you?” he asks, drinking his own hot coffee versus your frozen. “i can know when you’re lying.”

“mmm..” you hum, slurping through the straw and looking away.

“princess,” he says, activating his quirk and having a hand on your thigh. “are you wearing that perfume that got you ravaged last time?”

“yes.” you say, feeling his quirk disappear and bite your lip. damnit all, and his stupid manipulative quirk. “you dont have to always use your quirk on me, meanie.”

“you like when i do though, princess. especially when i have you tell me how you want to get fucked.”

“shinso— in public!” you remind, him shrugging and smirking to you. “keep your voice down at least!”

he gets into your ear, a hand on your tummy. “do i have to remind you who your talking to?” he warns, watching your head shake no. “oh, because what i think is you’ve forgotten who i am.” you try to open your mouth, but he clicks his tongue. “whats my name again?”

“sir.”

“no, no, no..” he coos, a hand in your hair and his fingers scratch your scalp— a warning he might pull your hair. “whats my name , or do i have to have another session with remembrance?”

“daddy.” you mumble, a heat to your face and you turn your head away. “youre a fuckin perv.”

[jkjmbtsarmy]

240723 BTS IG reel update (Jimin)

He sounds A-Ma-ZING. You can tell how hard he’s worked on his vocals. He always sounded good. And he’s just gotten better and better. And please…why is he so cute??? 🥹 like Jimin..you can’t be doing this. Blowing me away with them vocals and then the sudden cuteness attack at the end.

[aishaislost]

drarry fic recs 🍂🍁

im always looking for fic recs but I never post any…thought id make this post to give back to the community

an issue of consequence by @faith2wood

this is my favorite drarry fic of all time, and my favorite drarry author of all time. faithwood is drarry legend, the way they write Draco is perfect, this fic is perfect blend of unhinged and sincere. love love love. in this one, draco wakes up in a world where Harry Potter thinks that he’s his boyfriend. ah ma zing

then comes a mist and a weeping rain by @faith2wood

listen, i said they’re my favorite drarry author ever. I love fluff and this fic is the fluffiest. draco conjures a cloud and it rains on him

storm in a teacup by @faith2wood

last one by faithwood, though you should read all their fics because they’re all quality. this fic is so cozy, has obsessive, bordering on insane Draco which is my favorite kind. in this one Draco is obsessed with Harry’s hair

hey, potter by SunseticMonster

oh this one is just AMAZING. it’s delectable. ive reread it multiple times. Harry decides to return Draco’s insults with compliments. love draco’s breakdown in this

trials and revelations by KaiIsTyping

oh this one is very good. trust. I don’t often read fics over 100k+ but I hardly even noticed because I read this so quickly. sloooow burn

straightforward by babysasuke

soft pining. if you’re into that sort of thing (I am)

good to me (and id be so good to you) by AWickedMemory

depressed eighth year Draco. need I say more?

[ianthoni]

I just watched smosh the sitcom and haven’t seen any discourse about Ian being amazing in it. I know people tend to praise other cast members (being professional trained actors) but being as unbiased as possible Ian really stood out not only with physical comedy but also making the whole cast change with just one improvised line. Sorry for dumping my opinions here lol

NO WE SHOULD TALK ABOUT HIS ACTING MORE. IAN WAS A-MA-ZING.

I always ALWAYS talk about how he's an amazing actor despite being untrained and he should do more and once again he proved himself. AND THIS WAS LIVE! He was shining beside all this theater kids🥺He was incredible and i love how he ate with that "you're a little gay? Idk just like commit ig" improve it literally take everyone out LMAO like man is funny but also so good at acting AND IMPROVE? and they are the least switched ones thanks to him probably Anthony was cracking up dkgkskfks

And you know what was my favorite part??? The Krungle Kevin kiss they teased!!! He was allll over the stage, his stage presence was PERFECT. And they said he didn't do all of that in the rehearsals so it was all improved in the scene. He's just THAT good. His chemistry was incredible with both Amanda and Shayne I was literally holding my breath waiting for the kiss 🫠🫠

Anyways i agree with you we should talk about Ian's acting more cause he's fuckin amazing and im never gonna shut up about it.

GIVE MY MAN HIS HORROR ANTAGONIST ROLE ALREADY!!

[fayes-fics]

OOOO HI I CANT BELIEVE I DIDNT REALISE ITS OCTOBER!!!!! Im in time by like an hour i have been blessed, can I request Anthony + regency + FWB :,) lots of love x

Kinktober: Anthony + Overstimulation

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Paring: Anthony Bridgeton x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, vaginal fingering.

Author’s note: hi lovely 🫶 to make FWB work in Regency reader is a young, rich widow enjoying some pleasure with her good friend, the Viscount 😂😁 I really hope you enjoy this 🧡

“What are you….?” 

Your words die in your throat as he keeps going, his hand between your legs, your back pressed into a gnarly tree trunk. Crisp autumnal air swirls around the glazing on your thighs as the edges of your orgasm still buzz in your being. And yet, he has made no move to stop his ministrations. The very reason you are in such a torpid state.

“Once is not enough with all the delightful noises you make, Countess Sedgewick,” Anthony attests velvety against your cheek, the silk layers of your dress pooled over the forearm of his jacket as he keeps swiping a thumb over your throbbing clit.

“Don't call me that,” you frown even as you bite your lip. “Call me by my maiden name, Lady Y/l/n,” you add, a hand gripping the trunk behind you, licking your parched lips, eyes fluttering closed at his continued teasing.

“Of course, Lady Y/l/n. The unexpected delight of being widowed so young, hmm?” his response laconic, switching his hand position to sink two fingers into your dripping pussy. “Yesss, that's the noise,” he goads as you moan behind gritted teeth and writhe.

“No more Bridgerton,” you warn, making no attempt to fight him off, revelling in the gentle pump of his fingers stretching your walls that still flutter sporadically.

“I know you do not mean that,” he chuckles, bemused, with an arching eyebrow, and turns his hand back into a flurry of movement that has you crying to the skies, so overwrought from the pleasure mere moments earlier.

“Again, Lady,” he implores, but it sounds close to an order, greedy for you to break again so soon.

“How about you?” you pant, grasping his forearm to anchor yourself as you spiral quickly. “Do you not wish the favour returned?”

His fingers press more insistently, wiping out your ability to form sentences. 

“My pleasure can wait,” he assures, even though he leans bodily into you a fraction so you can feel his cock heatedly press your hip.

You are powerless to stop the tide of a second pleasurable wave hitting you full force, slumping into his caged embrace. He makes triumphant noises as you fracture around his fingers again, limbs shuddering, your body and mind floating somewhere among the rust-coloured leaves above.

“Perfect,” he opines. “Just once more….”

You make a weak noise of protest, dropping your forehead onto his shoulder, the woollen fabric slightly scratchy on your dewy skin.

“Oh yes,” he counters, almost a tart edge to his answer. “You can and you will.”

You pull up to look into his eyes, which are blown wide, his lips flushed dark pink, aroused by your arousal, mirrored back in your inky black pupils. He shuffles closer, leaves scrunching under his heavy riding boot, holding all your weight now you no longer can rely on your own twitching, overwrought leg muscles.

“Come on, Lady Y/l/n,” he purrs. “What is a clandestine lover for, if not hitherto unchartered pleasures?”

You can see the pride in his eyes—that he alone has been the only one to ever do this to you. Make you mindless with pleasure. He knows he has won the argument even before you nod weakly and wrap your arms around his tighter.

Then again, his hand is a frenzy, fingers plundering your depths as he roughly strokes your clit with his thumb. All you can do is cling to him, robbed of your voice, whimpering, sweaty and frayed. Your body burning from overlapping accumulated pleasure, your skin zinging as if caught in a lightning storm. 

Your third orgasm is almost serene, reaching a peak that makes your mouth fall open in a silent scream, your whole body stiffening and then bearing down hard upon his fingers, gushing into his hand as you let out a sob of release, completely overwhelmed, feeling your heartbeat in every fibre of your being.

“There it is,” he gloats, triumphant, kissing your damp temple as he finally gives you reprieve.

No taglist as these drabbles are so short

[winchester-girl67]

Cravings (Part 2)

Summary: Post-claim, Dean and the reader enjoy a lazy day at her place when she tells him that she wants to bite him back.

Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x pregnant!reader

Square: True mates @spnaubingo​

Word Count: 3,529

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, non-traditional true mates, pregnant reader (Dean is not the father), unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, morning sickness, mentioned/implied one night stand, mature themes, smut adjacent touching/kissing/cuddling, implied smut, light/brief smut, language, mostly fluff

A/N: For those of you who wanted more of these two. Sorry this took so long, I haven't been able to write much lately. Also written for @spnaubingo​. Enjoy!

_____

"Hmm, you like that?"

"Oh my gosh... Yes, Alpha. Harder!" You ordered and he happily obliged.

Then you whimpered, your foot jerked and Dean froze, "Are you okay, Y/N? Is it too much?"

"Don't stop," You sing-songed and he chuckled between purrs as he continued to circle his thumbs. "Right there, so strong, Alpha. I love you."

"Wow, you're really enjoying this," he hummed, taking pleasure in giving you pleasure.

"Mhm," you nodded, "I can't remember the last time someone massaged my feet. This feels A-MA-ZING!"

Your hums started to vibrate in your chest, you couldn't remember a time where anyone had been this attentive with you. Your eyes watered a little but you were too content to let the tears fall.

The pregnancy had your feet and ankles so swollen already and you didn't even have to say anything for Dean to notice. One of the many benefits of your new bond. He just felt what you felt and vice versa.

Even during Dean's rut -which only lasted a couple days, just long enough to get you both out of spending Christmas with family- when he mated you for the first time, he was tender and loving. You tried to present for him but he flipped you over onto your back, wanting to feel every inch of what was about to be his. Forever. Every promise of what your future together held.

Then he bit and you were claimed.

That was near two weeks ago now and Dean hadn't spent a single night at his house since. All that was left was to officially move him into your house and make it a home.

There was really no reason to wait, no second thoughts on the claiming from either of you either. Dean agreed to move since he knew moving a pregnant omega could be upsetting and enough had already changed quite quickly. He was just happy you accepted the change; having an alpha in your life, in your house, when you said you never wanted one.

Dean was different, though. He wasn't your typical breed, you would've thought alphas like him didn't exist anymore; if he wasn't currently digging his fingers into your flesh in the most pleasurable -non-sexual, for the most part- way right now.

You didn't have to let him claim you, because he would never force you, and he was determined to show you he loved you endlessly for it. For choosing him.

Your house was also slightly bigger and had your scent infused into the walls and carpeting. It wasn't a hard sell to a rutting alpha at the time. Plus, this way he would be able to sell his house to his brother who'd been searching for a home for a while with his mate. They were trying to expand their family themselves, but hadn't had much luck lately.

Dean talked about his little brother a lot but you hadn't met him, or Jess. Sam and Dean planned to move over his stuff soon though, so you'd get to meet them then.

You were nervous because Sam wasn't apparently all that thrilled about you joining their pack without being introduced to you first. Dean explained that it had less to do with you and more to do with his dating history. Dean's past with omegas rivalled yours with alphas. Apparently the wrong omegas take advantage of tender alphas.

He was your forever. You wouldn't do anything to hurt him, you were a team, a partnership and you're supposed to build and grow together not tear each other down. Sam would see that when he met you.

Dean's hands slid up your legs, his strong fingers massaging the muscles of your calves and you felt like you were melting back into the couch. All you could think of was watching him make bread yesterday at the bakery. The way he folded and kneaded the dough in front of you. Except now you were the dough and his palms gripped and molded the soft flesh of your legs.

You never wanted this to stop.

You didn't even notice when you completely sunk onto your back, lengthways, until Dean's hands slid higher up your legs to your hips as he crawled over you. One of his palms felt the skin of your inner thigh as he pushed up your maternity dress with the other, revealing your swollen belly.

"Fuck. You're a sight, sweetheart." He sighed happily, sitting between your legs and holding a palm on your bump.

The pup rolled and Dean followed the movement until he felt a little kick on the side of your stomach. He purred so loud you almost thought he was growling, if it wasn't for his almost unbearably sweet scent -it was a far turn from the salty musk when you first met him, he was happy now- and he bent over you to place a kiss to your belly, below your navel and to the side. You loved him like this, already bonding with the pup as if it were his own.

As far as you both were concerned, the pup was his now; blood had nothing to do with it. His claim included every extension of you, you could feel it. You were a family.

Gosh, he was a beautiful man. If more alphas were like him, less omegas would feel the need to suppress their natural cycles. You often wondered how nobody snatched him up before you did. You were beyond thankful no one did.

"You're carrying high," Dean determined, feeling up your stomach with both hands.

"And," you laughed and caught his wrists as he roamed higher up your dress towards your swollen breasts.

"That means, it's a girl." He smiled softly and leaned over you to kiss you on the lips as he held your ribs. You hadn't found out the pup's gender yet, you wanted to be surprised. "I fucking love you. So fucking much. Fuck."

Tears welled in his forest green eyes and he swallowed his purrs with his emotions. He cleared his throat and kissed you again. His mouth hugged your bottom lip with a quiver and his tongue licked the tip of your nose when he pulled away. He didn't like letting you see his emotions get the best of him and he was trying to distract you, but with the bond you felt everything he was feeling. Fear and excitement but mostly a need for comfort, a reassurance in your new bond.

You tangled your fingers in his soft hair and moved his head to the crook of your neck, where your mating gland was. He turned his face and pressed his nose to the claim, inhaling and fermenting your bond instantly with a single scent.

A calm rushed over him and you tugged him up by his hair for a needy kiss. Dean groaned, his chest heating and lungs rumbling against you with a violent, growling purr.

"Alpha," you whimpered against his lips, wanting more of him.

He gave 'alpha' every meaning of the word.

Instinct took him over and he pushed your dress up your chest, exposing your breasts. His lips found your puckered flesh as he massaged the tension from your sensitive mounds.

Forget dough, you were putty in his massive and capable hands. His fingers worked every inch of you like he read your mind. But you still whimpered, needing more.

"I know, Omega, I know." He cooed, "I got you, baby. It's okay."

He tugged your panties down your legs, throwing them aside to the floor and slotted himself back between your thighs. His sweatpants, still separating your skin from each other and you snapped at him.

Dean laughed and leaned over to kiss you again.

You scented him and your teeth ached with a need to claim him -which you still hadn't done, it didn't need to be done to cement the bond and alphas typically didn't like to bear a claiming mark- but you refrained, now wasn't the time. You didn't want him to reject the claim, so you'd bring it up when your heads were clearer.

You clenched your jaw shut instead and enjoyed his touch.

After your little romp in the living room, you watched Dean make dinner as he strained the pot of spaghetti over the sink.

"D," you said, "you do know that carrying high doesn't mean anything, right? It's an old wives' tale. We could still be having a boy."

"I know," he shrugged, rinsing off the pasta and shutting off the element to the stove, turning the second one down to let the tomato sauce simmer. "I just have a gut feeling."

You knew Dean wanted a girl, a little princess to spoil rotten, but you wouldn't be heartbroken if you got a little prince instead. Either way, you could always try again for the one you didn't get. You always wanted to fill your home with lots of pups, eventually move out to the country with a picket fence, a big yard for them to run wild in and a long driveway to learn how to ride their bikes.

It was a dream you gave up on long ago but Dean revived it just by being himself.

"How much do you think I eat?" You gawked at the super-sized bowl of pasta Dean served you.

You were a little over five months pregnant, but it was still a lot of food.

"The pup needs the nutrition. Just eat what you can." He said and kissed your forehead.

Dean spooned some sauce on top of your mountain of spaghetti, holding the lid of the pot under the spoon as he did so. You beamed up at him, getting butterflies like the first day you knocked on his door and padding away to the table with your bowl of pasta like a trophy.

Dean was the real trophy, but you liked the food, too.

He served himself next, using a plate instead because he liked to cut the noodles. You told yourself it was because he was a baker, not a chef; a real chef would never cut spaghetti. You liked the bowl because it made less of a mess when you twirled the noodles onto your fork.

Dean joined you at the table and hummed around his food, clearly happy with his recipe. You, on the other hand, thought something was missing after your first forkful. It just tasted off.

"Something wrong with the food, sweetheart?" He mumbled, slurping bits of spaghetti back into his mouth that tried to escape as he spoke. "Want me to make you something else?"

"No, no," you waved him off, the man was catering to no end when it came to your cravings. "It's just missing something."

You padded back to the adjoined kitchen and Dean studied you as you searched the cupboards, not really even sure yourself what you were looking for.

Until you found it.

You made your way back over to the table with your prize in hand. A clear plastic case, housing round, golden-wrapped, hazelnut and wafer chocolates. Dean stared with a grin plastering his cheeks as you unwrapped three of them and stuck them on top of your pasta mountain.

The chocolate immediately started to melt in the heated tomato sauce and it smelt heavenly. Your mouth watered and you sniffed the air above your bowl.

"Mmm," Dean hummed hesitantly like he wasn't sure if that was going to satisfy you or make you sick, but he didn't stop you.

You twirled equal amounts spaghetti and melted-chocolate-meatball onto your fork, shoving it into your mouth before it fell into your lap. You chewed for a moment -watching Dean take another bite of his chopped meal and swallow- before you decided you couldn't and spit it back into your bowl.

"Yuck," you groaned, wiping the taste from your tongue with your palm. "Ugh. Sorry, D, I can't eat this."

That was not heavenly tasting, it was disgusting.

"That's all right, tell me what you want instead and I'll make it." He said, standing from his seat to give you a peck on the cheek and clear away your plate when you heaved at the smell.

Morning sickness never really went away, it just got sneakier.

Your tastebuds were off today and Dean made a series of your favourites, which you ultimately couldn't eat, before you settled on toast. After your first slice, though, you followed your nose and let the pup tell you what it wanted, that included toast with a dollop of honey and a mashed banana spread.

Dean reheated his meal, finally content you had something to eat and smiled at his happy omega.

After dinner, you crawled into your king-sized bed to watch a little TV comfortably with your mate. The nest of blankets and pillows had only gotten bigger with the addition of Dean's bedding -which he'd been slowly moving over a little at a time, same with his clothing, which packed the walk-in closet full of flannels. The rest of his stuff was left waiting for Sam to come by to help, although you suspected most of Dean's furniture would be left behind for his brother, who was living in an apartment at the moment and didn't have a lot of furniture to begin with.

You snuggled into Dean, barely giving him any room to get comfortable and threw your leg over his, pushing your knee into the space between his thighs so your hips hugged his leg. Dean was used to being used as your body pillow by now and he purred, nuzzling the top of your head. He flipped on a baking competition show for some background noise and you placed your hand over his heart to feel the strong thump against your palm.

A calm washed over you that you knew came from him and the claim and you lightly scratched your nails over his ribs lovingly. Your alpha was content and you fucking loved being able to feel every emotion without having to scent him like before. That being said, you still loved the sweet, warm scent of him when he was truly happy.

You slid your hand under his shirt and palmed the love handle above his hip. Squishy, warm flesh filled your palm and you dug your nails in possessively. Dean growled when you gripped a little too hard. He was all muscle but he didn't need to be sculpted with rock hard abs to prove it, he was soft and hard in all the right places and you loved his tummy.

"You okay, Y/N?" Dean asked and stopped purring.

You realized he was probably picking up on a little insecurity coming from you. You didn't even notice that was what you were feeling until he asked. Something was on your mind though.

"D, do you think we're true mates?" You asked, nuzzling his scruffy chin with your nose.

"Honestly, I don't know." Dean wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to lay half on top of him.

You tried to adjust your swollen belly so you weren't making him uncomfortable but he just tugged you back in closer. Your leg still nestled between his but your bump now pressing into his hip.

"But," you started but stopped and instead laid your head on his big shoulder.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

You couldn't hide anything off feeling with this bond, that was going to take some getting used to.

"What if another omega comes along and they're your true true mate, meanwhile you've already claimed me?" You muttered, brushing your fingers over his unmarked mating gland.

Typically only omegas bore the claim, but you would've liked him to have one, too. A mark that meant he was yours.

"I. Love. You."

"But-"

"No buts. It's a fairytale, Omega." He growled, not liking your implication.

You pulled your hand away from his gland and wiggled your hips until he released you and let you roll onto your side, facing away from him. It didn't happen often, but you didn't like when he took that tone with you.

The alpha tone.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just don't want you ever to think I'll leave you, for any reason. I love you, that means something to me." He sighed and rolled over to tuck you into his chest as he spooned you from behind. He kissed the crown of your head and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you grounded to him. "I mean, it's a little ridiculous to think that an alpha and omega will find and make each other happy just because it was meant to happen and they're instantly attracted to each other. If true mates are real, and that's a big 'IF', it's just about compatibility but even compatible people need to put work into their relationship. There's zero guarantee of a perfect romance, no matter what, and just because you're true mates, doesn't mean you'll make each other happy. A neglected mate is a neglected mate, despite the amount of stars that had to align in order to pair them together. So let me ask you this, are you happy with me, Omega?"

"Absolutely, I am." You sniffled and found his hand on your waist, sliding your fingers between his large ones. "Are you happy with us, Alpha?"

"Incredibly so." He kissed down your cheek and nuzzled your claim, teasing it with his teeth. You shivered and purred softly at his nips. "Then to answer your original question... because I'm happy and I know we'll never give up on each other even on our worst day, despite our imperfections, and because I am truly, deeply, helpless in love with you. Both of you." He moved your entwined hands to rest on your bump, "Yes, I believe that makes us true mates... And it doesn't hurt that you smell so good."

"I wanna bite you," you breathed.

Dean laughed hard and his chest shook against your back, "What was that, my little Omega?"

You hardly felt little these days, being practically swollen everywhere, but you liked the way he saw you.

"I want to claim you, too." You explained and turned in his arms to face him.

He brushed the hair from your cheek behind your ear, "We're already bonded, Y/N, it won't change anything if that's what you're thinking. The bond only cements feelings that are already there and links us together through our emotions, we already have that."

"I know, but- I just always told myself that if I was claimed, I would claim my alpha back." You said, wetting your lips and circling your fingertips over his gland again.

"You want to claim me, for the sake of claiming me?"

"I want to claim you because when you marry, you both wear rings." You murmured, placing small kisses over his gland and trying to entice him.

"We could just get married-"

"Is my big alpha afraid of a little bite?" You chuckled against his skin and you felt him flush against your lips.

"Pfft, no." He said unconvincingly.

"I'll make it enjoyable," you promised, pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. "You won't even feel it."

It wasn't a lie. If you claimed him the same way he claimed you, it would feel like a pinch at most. You nipped at his neck and felt a nervous shiver race through his body, your teeth nibbling his flesh.

"I won't do it if you don't want me to." You kissed the burning skin covering his mating gland and he shuttered again.

"I want you to claim me, Omega." He said and you met his gorgeous, green eyes. Then he teased, "Just, please, be gentle. It's my first time, sweetheart. But I trust you, baby."

He pushed his sweatpants down and your nightie up to your hips, then rocked into you and before long, you fell into him and bit. Your claim marring the perfect, freckled skin of his neck beautifully.

You licked at the mark as you laid on top of him, satiated as you cleaned away the few drops of blood despite the gross copper taste on your tongue. He'd done the same for you with your claim, something in the saliva of alphas and omegas help it heal quicker and not get infected.

You hummed against him, your belly pressing into his and your breasts flattened against his ribcage. Both your chests rumbling with a harmonized purr.

None of this was in the cards for you, not if you thought about it months ago. It's incredible how much can change in such a short amount of time.

"I still wanna marry you," Dean murmured in your ear.

His nose trailed down to your neck and buried into your scent. Dewy skin making the smell stronger as big hands roamed up your nightie and over your bare back. He held you to him gently like you'd float away if he let go, or pop if he held too tight.

Dean was a gentle giant of an alpha and he was all yours.

"Okay."

_________________________

Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Cravings: @hogwarts--imagines

[that-one-anxious-mango]

F.O.U.R Letter Word

a message from your network: hello! and welcome to the pilot episode of Four Letter Word. this series is loosely based on the hit show Sex and the City! this is also my first roman reigns/jimmy uso fic...ever. so please any and all feedback is welcome. happy ' watching'

starring roman reigns x black! oc, jimmy uso x black! oc, black! oc x poc oc!

content warning: nsfw, explicit language, tiny angst, alluded themes of mental health mentions, mild smut. also may cause happiness from viewing.

rated: tv-ma

not rated for viewers under 18+ (mdni)

running time: 10.5k words

Once upon a time in the city of angels , a young and freshly graduated black girl found herself stumbling around through the busy traffic ridden streets hoping to not get hit by carriages or pieces of the sky, better known as construction beams, while navigating through the many characters and creatures it had to offer.

She’d moved to the city to begin her job of dressing and tailoring to the princes and princesses of a small New York Theatre. 

 A dream of hers she had since she was a child.

But while this opportunity was a dream come true, it wasn’t exactly all she’d wished for on that little star each night before bed.

No, she’d also dreamed of the one thing she knew in her mind would help her fairytale become a happily ever after sequence: A Husband….or Wife. 

So, while she continued to work and construct her craft professionally during the day, at night she was looking for someone who could help construct and build her life alongside theirs  personally.   

Upon this search she would encounter men whose true personalities and intentions appeared upon the midnight hour, both women and men whose magic spells of attractiveness didn’t exactly work in person the same way it did on the phone, and overall people who just were always turned out to be too good to be true. 

After what seemed like months of tiresome searching,  her glimmer fainted into a small gleam, and she held tight onto all the magic and hope she had left with all her might. 

And she was right too, because without it she may have never believed her eyes when she met him underneath the full bright moon and under the bright theater lights that warm and magical May night. 

All because he needed help navigating the system of the NY streets. Offering what little help she could, in return for her help he himself offered her a dinner at one of the places in the city where the dishes probably washed themselves.

Accepting, within the course of that two hour dinner, she hadn’t denied the spark that she’d felt.

That zing..

That pop…

That thing you could only find in the movies…

And besides that she also learned in this short time, that he was everything she’d ever dreamed of to find in a man. 

Handsome, kind hearted, sweet, intellectual, driven, established, and last of all wealthy.

All things that crossed her box. 

But soon after the dinner she also would get to cross off another important box off her wish for a spouse: Good in Bed.

And so quickly a romance ensued.

Date nights, long weekend trips, holidays spent together, stupid monogrammed initials in the towels she kept at his place kind of romance. 

Yes, of course like all other great love stories there were certain…dragons to be slain…or towers to climb. But hey what great love story didn’t…no matter how many.

That is why when he gave her the fairytale proposal of her life, she’d eagerly said yes.

But on the day of the same fairytale wedding they planned, worth a pretty penny, and with the gathering of all their closest family and friends. 

She would find herself heartbroken when he didn’t say I do…or I don’t.

In fact at that altar he never said anything…because dear friends….he never showed. 

She’d been stood up at the altar.

And on that day, with tears in her eyes that same young, freshly graduated girl with dew on her cheeks and glitter in her eyes would soon trade out her perfect pink for shoes, for boots made to walk all over all of his burned shit outside in the backyard of her parent’s home.

That young girl had been twenty two years old at the time of this heartbreak.

And now at twenty eight my cousin, Celine St. John, was all grown up and trying living in the harsh reality of the day. 

That those princes or princesses didn’t exist, and only she herself had the power to make her dreams come true.

But again, sadly my friends, this still didn’t completely take her magic or her will to keep looking for her happily ever after…in someone else. 

Which is why like something out of a fairy-tale, four Los Angeles princesses found themselves swimming in a sea of scurvy men with no prince or even handsome pirates in sight, at the Lonely Pearl Bar. 

“ Can you believe it? Four years ago today I stood there dressed in my grandmother's pearls and his mother’s wedding dress outside ready to go to the altar in front of three hundred people, with my life packed up, ready to abandon all my hopes and dreams like a dumbass, waiting for a man who never had any intention of showing up.”  Celine could only laugh at young naive past self as she took another sip of her Jack and Ginger.  

“ In the high heat of an August heatwave no less.” She added, “ Even though when I said yes that night, I knew in my heart he’d never commit. That he’d never love me the same way I loved him.” 

“ An important part of the tale indeed. But, hey, don’t feel bad. We’ve all been delusional a time or two. It happens. We’re young and improperly influenced with stories of fairy tale endings and men who actually may be decent human beings.”  I said, playing with the circle stained napkin in front of me from my Corona. “ So, as always I don’t blame you for using the extreme benefit of the doubt. It happens.” 

“ Oh no. Speak for yourself." Anthea quickly objected, “ Baby that wasn’t any regular ass delusional you experienced. That was some straight Disney fairytale shit, we’ll live happily ever after in a Louboutin shoe, type delusion. Which brings me to the main issue.”  

The three of us exchanged looks present with all of the curiosity and skepticism we could muster.  

“ See, I think the problem here ladies isn’t that you all can’t find someone to indulge the perfect Cinderella fantasy . It’s the fact you’re looking for someone to date in the first place. It isn’t like  Beauty and the Beast where you love and nurture the gruff of man until you get this shiny new prince. Most men nowadays are all beast, no prince."

“ Men nowadays are all the same. No matter how much you want them to commit, date, or marry you, it’s all the same. A man will either tell you upfront he’s just looking to fuck, or he is going to indulge your little fantasy of something serious until you finally let him in the draws and then he’s out the door to the next bitch.” She explained, smiling as if her logic was the only right one.

Anthea Olivet, as she will tell anyone within earshot, was sexy, fabulous, wildly successful and had the ego of any man attached. This alone made her 5’3 stature in any situation feel seven feet tall. She was a prolific defense attorney to the stars, who took charge in not only in the courtroom, but in every aspect of life she could. 

“ Bottom line . Men will fuck you and then get the fuck on. If you can find it within yourself to accept those facts, then maybe you too can  enjoy the ‘ happy endings ‘ you get from them just as much as they do the ones they take from you.” She happily shrugged, taking a sip of her shirley temple.

“ Well what if I liked the way the beast looked pre transformation." Celine mused, “ I personally don’t mind some gruff and fur. Then you gotta remember he had generational wealth, he was well read, owned property, plus his tongue in that one scene wasn-” 

Celine’s verbal venture into beastiality was cut off by a chorus of laughter and bewildered look from Maraget, “ Ce, you’re sick ." Tears springing in her eyes from laughter, “ And you can count that as a professional diagnosis free of charge.” 

Celine shrugged, “ Nothing we didn’t already, darling. But no, seriously back to the topic at hand. It just feels like I almost had it, ya’ know? And now I just feel like at the age I am now I should already be set up for the life I wanna live.  Ya’ know the house, kids, husband, property, dream job, whatever…” 

She sighed, “ And it seems like all the other pieces of the puzzle are falling into place but this one.”

“ Which is what? Love? Because you know there are other areas of life you can find that in, right?" I reminded. 

“ I mean look around. Do you really fucking think we’d all be sitting in this poorly air conditioned ass bar with these weak ass drinks if we didn’t love your ass. You betta’ look around and recognize QUICK.” I quipped at her, making a motion to the three of us surrounding her with my finger.

She smiled, playfully rolling her before saying, “ Yes. I definitely recognize I’m loved ya’ll thank you. However…” 

Strong collective groans came from every direction, but still not strong enough to deter her from her declaration, “ As much as y’all love me and I love y’all,  none of ya’ll can hold and kiss my hand, buy a house with me, raise babies with me, or eat me out on a Caribbean island with manuka honey and ice the way I need.” 

“ We just letting all our little fantasies out tonight, huh?" I muttered to my left side, low enough for Anthea to hear.

“ Seems like. But let's not kink shame. It’s not polite.” She quietly sing-songed. 

“ Even though I’ve had my ass burned, literally, I’m still not giving up on the idea that someone is out there for me." Celine urged, “ It just gets harder and harder keeping up the faith out here in these streets when at every fucking corner there is a weirdo or bum. But it is easy to weed those out once I come right out with it and say I’m looking to date to marry.” 

“ Yeah, that’ll unfortunately slim the pickings.” I agreed, taking a swig.

“ Which I wouldn’t care about if I wasn’t twenty eight already!  I’m not getting any younger. I need to find someone who will both poach quail eggs for me in the morning and then crack my eggs up at night.” Celine concluded. “ I need to find my person. Yesterday.”

Margaret nodded, “ I understand. But you don’t think that maybe you’re just putting a bit too much pressure on yourself, Ce. That’s a lot to try and carry. Maybe you should think about taking the pressure of the gas a bit, hun.” 

" I agree '', I chimed in, “ Especially in this cesspool we call dating here in LA. You don’t necessarily need to lower your standards but maybe a little adjustment may be good. Or you could even try and sit on the bench for a little bit and focus on you. Make sure those other pieces of the puzzle just ain’t falling, but that they're in that bitch permanently.” I took a sip of my beer.

Still she shook her head unfazed by our words, “ No no no. I can’t. It’s bad enough I’m the age I am now with little to no prospects as is. Plus I can already hear that clock starting to tick s-"

“ You better take the batteries out of that bitch and keep pushing." Anthea sharply interrupted, startling a poor Margaret,  “ FUCK THAT CLOCK! It’s bullshit. Don’t force yourself to go on a million dates with these lame ass niggas just because mother nature is pushing up on you.” 

“ You better go collect and freeze those eggs. It’s never too late.” Anthea declared, holding up her class of pinot. “ If you want marriage. Do it. But don’t rush just because you're afraid. It won’t end well.” 

“ She may have a point. Think about it.” I agreed.

Quickly I was called out by a now semi-offended Celine , “ Oh no! You Miss Thing...” She pointed a finely manicured finger at me, “ Do not get to have an opinion on a subject like this. You don’t even date forreal.” 

I immediately felt my face contort into a deep frown, “ That is not true.”

From down the row I heard Margaret's voice, “ Now, Kalin.” 

“ Yes, Margaret.” I shot back, a playful coyness invading my tone, making us both smile,

 “ No, but seriously! Y'all make it seem like a bitch don’t date. I DATE! Maybe not as much or like how y’all do. But I get out there…occasionally.” 

I felt my own conscious frown at me in skepticism and judgment. 

“ Girl PLUHEASE! You don’t date Miss I’ve Taken a Vow of Celibacy because my last relationship shot to hell.” Anthea laughed, involuntarily reminding me of my last serious attempt at a situation. 

“ Hey! My vow of celibacy doesn’t have anything to do with my last attempt at a relationship, but has everything to do with my attempt at a relationship with myself and my well being.” I stated proudly. 

“ I decided that if I truly wanted to get to know myself and see all that I had to offer then I needed to get exclusive and serious with ME! Which meant eliminating distracting factors like sex and other people from our relationship.” 

“ Plus.” I cleared my throat, “ As you all know I also had some…past things. I’ve been working on. And I finally feel like I’m at a place where I have a manageable handle on said things.” My eyes quickly cut to Margaret who offered a somber and supportive smile. 

“ Now look at me. A young black successful New York Times best selling author of not one but soon to be two series. I have a budding publishing house, I’m thick and fit, and I’m a hell of a good dog mom. So, I’d say this celibacy journey was worth it.” I argued, sipping on the almost empty glass bottle. 

“ And more power to you, honey.” Anthea patted my shoulder, “ But after three years, minimal dates, and at least four vibrators, plus the cost of batteries every month that probably is the equivalent of a decent house note. Don’t you think that maybe it’s time to open things up. I dunno get into a polyamorous relationship with you, yourself, and somebody’s dick?!"

“ Oh my gosh.” I groaned, silently unamused at her obsession with the prospects of my sex life. 

“ Anthea behave.” Margaret softly scolded before turning to me, “  But on a more serious note, not to pull out the PHD in Psychology and Mental Health counseling…” 

“ I know das’ right.” Anthea hyped her up. 

“ But as someone who literally counsels and assesses people for a living on how well they can function in life healthily and independently, I’m pretty confident in my recommendation that you’ve done enough self growth and foundation laying over the last three years to where I’m content with sending you out into the wilds of the LA dating scene without major fear for you, friend."

Her words made my heart swell, “ Besides that, as your friend. I’m even more damn proud of you! It takes a lot to want to put that kind of work into yourself. I say all that to say…if you’re ready. Then it’s time.” Margaret encouraged lifting up her bottle of lemon sparkling water. 

“ Amen Sister Dr. Girl. Tell her again.” Celine threw up a goofy fist. 

“ So, I guess the question still remains, what is stopping you from getting back out there? " Anthea follows up.  

“ Absolutely nothing! Nothing is stopping me y'all." My body produces a laugh under the pressure of the microscope presented by my peers, “ When I come across a man that I’m interested in. Then I’ll date. But until then I’m cool just seeing…me.”

And just like that, a smirk almost eerily identical to the Cheshire cat appeared on Anthea’s face,  “ And when you say that, do you mean that there’s a specific type of guy you’re looking for? Cause I know some people I could-” 

“ NOPE! While I’m flattered that won’t be necessary. Thanks.” I quickly held up a hand of refusal, “ But to answer your question. While I don’t have a specific list of things like how tall he has to be or what he does for a living, or this, that, and the third like other women may. I do have certain…preferences that I keep in mind when I see someone I think is attractive.”

“ Such as…” Anthea beckoned forward, not even attempting to be sly about her approach. 

“ Such as….he has to be able to practice CMTDB.” I stated, smirking. 

Immediately her eyes lit up with what I knew only could be a thought she could formulate, “ Ouu! What does that stand for? Can make the dick bounce? Can mash the D’s back? "

Laughter from every which way, plus a horrified look for Margaret, moved down through the row of us. 

“ NO NASTY! It means CAN MIND THEIR DAMN BUSINESS.” Patrons had begun to stare at the four us who were now obnoxiously loud,  but we didn’t care, “ Like damn. If I wanted to be interrogated by three old ass biddies I would’ve called Mama and the Tias.” 

“ Aye watch who the fuck you call old, na’." Celine, barely able to breathe said, “ I may be kicking thirty in the ass, but my best years are still ahead of me. Watch.”

“ I know das right! Haven’t you heard thirty is the new twenty. Means we’re just really getting started.” 

I groan laughing, “ God! I hope not. I’d like to see my thirties be different. Feel more mature and happier. Not like my early twenties which really just felt like the encore of my teenage years at times.” 

“ That’s exactly what I was going to say bu–” The abrupt sound of Margaret’s phone paused her thought, she didn’t hesitate to pull it from her pocket, just the same way she didn’t hesitate to return just as swiftly and avert her eyes back to the conversation at hand. 

An action she’d repeated twice since we’d all met here under the slightly mildew kissed lamps of the place two hours ago. 

A look was exchanged between Celine and I, and while us two were ready to sweep the action under the rug; Anthea of course was not, “ You’re not gonna get’ that. That’s like your third call, tonight. Could be important.” 

“ I promise it’s not. It can wait.” She affirmed, hands awkwardly tapping the bartop, “ Besides I’m busy helping a friend here.” 

“ Who mind you doesn’t require help.” I added in.

“ Yeah right.” Celine laughed, “ You so do. But that’s alright. Cause mark my words. Before the year is over we gone find someone to knock the cobwebs up out that thang’. ”

My eyes cut at her, “ No cobwebs here, heifer. Don’t ever try it.” I waved a hand, “ Besides….” 

“ From my mouth to the universe's ears, it will send me a man who not only is ready for me, but I too am ready for him. Which being honest, I don’t think is anytime soon. So, until then I’m going to keep on loving on me, buying batteries, and making money to pay my expensive beverage habits. ALRIGHT!”

They all looked around to each other before muttering in agreement.

After a couple more laughs, some life updates, and a toast to remember Celine’s bullet she dodged, both Anthea and Celine announced their respective departures, which also triggered Margaret's reluctance to go home. 

“ Never know….” Margaret spoke up, “ He could stumble into this very bar tonight.” 

Still I laughed her off,  “ Yeah, right. Okay Miss Cleo, thanks for the delulu. I love you and kiss my godbaby goodnight when you get home. And to you other two… Have fun and be SAFE…in all areas of life.” 

“ Will do. Night, pretty girl.” Anthea placed a kiss on my cheek, before heading over to the pool table to collect her victim of the night.

“ Goodnight, Beautiful. I will tell her in the morning. If you want I’ll have her call you so you two can talk over breakfast.” Margaret offered making me smile at the thought of my five year old goddaughter. 

“ I would love that. Thanks.” 

“ Alright. Before I go I’m gonna step outside and take a phone call.” Margaret leaned down and kissed my head. 

“ Okay.” I said, suddenly feeling a weight on my back.

“ Goodnight, Smush. Love you. Don’t stay out too long.”  Celine hugged me from behind.

“ Love you too, Smuckie. And I won’t. Text me when you get home.” I waved.

And then all within five minutes I’d found myself just how I knew the evening would go, alone and mulling. Just only at a bar. 

I figured at this rate I may as well have another beer, call a cab, and set up shop at my computer until my eyes either started to burn or the computer died. Whichever came first.

A couple minutes had passed and I had just ordered my last when a voice rose above the buzz of noise next to me.

“ This seat taken? "

When I turned my head I was met with a rather large and stunningly attractive man dressed in a dapper suit and tie. He looked as if he'd just hopped straight off a Forbes magazine page, dressed head to toe in what I’d recognized to be the number 3’ line up from the recent Ralph Lauren’ spring line. I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that he put the model to absolute shame. 

This had to be some kind of fucking joke. Who had sent this man over here to fuck with me.

“ Doesn’t look like it…so please feel free.” I motion toward the tattered bar seat.

“ Thank you.” He replies, flagging down the bartender, “ Hey, man. Can I do a Blue Moon. Thanks.” 

As he ordered his drink I couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the man beside me to further my inspection. Quickly I was able to gather that if I’d thought he’d been handsome standing over me before, I’d damn sure thought he was fine now up close now.

He had a strong jawline draped with a particularly well kept and healthy looking beard peppered with noticeable streaks of gray . All around his cheekbones and around his nose bridge were kissed with tiny hints of freckles. When he talked his smile was a perfect replica of a colgate commercial, and it helped to bring brightness to his eyes that had a certain softness and slant to them.

All in All…again I say..the man was fine. 

“ Something on my face? " His voice startled me since I’d really thought I’d been stealthy with how much side eye I used. 

I’d been caught.

Quickly I had to recover, “ No. Nope, nothin’ on there. You’re actually just in my line of sight.” I tried playing it off, “ Just trying not to be obvious about looking out the window there past your face. My friend is outside in a possible spat with her husband, and I don’t wanna make it seem like I’m being nosy.” 

 “ But you are. Being nosy that is.” He remarked, smiling and taking a sip of his beer.

I frown, “ Not really. Concerned more than anything. I mean she is standing outside by herself. It’s getting dimmer and dimmer out and I’m just making sure she’s okay. I mean look at her. Look how tiny she is…” I laugh, “ One tiny gush of wind and she’ll be all the way in the valley."

He turned his head to get a good look at my Margo before nodding, “ Well since you put it like that. I guess I understand the nosiness now.” 

“ Mhmm.” I agreed, going back to nursing my beer.

The air held quiet for a moment, both our eyes seemed to briefly train on the game playing on the TV overhead until…

“ So, you come here often to be nosy? “ His gaze shifted to me and he flashed me that almost blinding smile again.

And in that moment, suddenly, for some odd reason,  I’d begun to feel a tad smaller under the weight of it, like he was this giant…something and I was just…me. 

His presence felt..oddly…Big.

In an attempt to hide my nerves I opted to look down the bar at the waitress while answering, “ Occasionally. Decent place to drink a beer,  shoot a bear, be nosy into others life problems. All of it makes good material, ya’ know.” 

“ For? " He questioned, pulling my attention back.

“ I’m sorry? " I blinked.

“ You said that all makes good material, right? So, for what? “ He furthered,  the corners of his lips upturned.

For a moment  I contemplated lying to him about my life’s profession just to avoid the common follow up questions I could never escape, but for some reason I’d decided that even if he did ask them, he was worth the explanations tonight. 

“ I’m an author.” I revealed, “ So, you could say I take good chunks of inspiration from things as simple as eavesdropping on conversations or what some call ' people watching' I guess.” 

“ Published? " He probed.

“ Yeah. I have a couple things out and under my belt." I nodded, “ Nothing you’ve read I’m sure, though.”

His eyebrows rose in curiosity, “ Oh really? What? Do I look like I don’t read or something? "

I shook my head, “ No. No, that’s not what I said. I’m sure you’re very well read."

 Your reading material probably consists of contracts and checks with lots of zeros from the looks of it.

“ I’m just positive you’ve never read anything I’ve written. My genre probably isn‘t your thing." I clarified.

He took another swig of his beer, “ And what genre would that be? "

I smile knowing I had him, “ Young adult romance and fiction.” 

He looked almost surprised when I told him, only indication of this being the shift in his seat.

“ Huh." He hummed before going back to nursing his flat beer, my brows touched.

“ Huh? What does ‘ huh ‘ mean?" I questioned, wanting to know the diction of his sound. 

He laughed, finding amusement in my displeasure with little noise, his baritone floating in the air, “ Huh means I wouldn’t expect a young adult romance and fiction author to be getting her material from a bar."

I nodded understanding that he wasn’t the first person to share a sentiment like that I’d met. But still part of me could have wondered the same thing about him.

What was a man like him with such a large presence doing sitting at bar and and having a casual drink with a woman at a bar who secretly was in a place in her life where she felt as small as can be.

“ Huh." I sounded, purposely using the previous tone of his just for a reaction.

I got it.

He smiled, “ Now, what’s up with your huh? "

Having the nerve to start feeling shy, my head turned up to the game, the Celtics were nailing the Raptors, “ I just wouldn’t have expected a man in a almost six thousand dollar suit to be sitting at a bar whose most expensive drink comes in a glass with a plastic pearl floating in it.” I shot back.

He laughed. 

 “ Touche. " A nod was earned, “ I’ll put your ‘ huh’  to rest though by telling you that the only reason I’m here in this ridiculously overpriced suit at this little ole’  shithole in the wall bar, is because the guy who owns this place happens to be a lifelong friend of mine. And whenever I’m in town I stop in and say what’s up.” 

“ Would that be often? " I turn. “ I’ve never seen you in here before.” 

The corners of his mouth upturned, “ See. Nosy? " He pointed at me, triggering an eyeroll.

                The small smile on my face spread, “ No. Not nosy. Conversationalist.” I countered, holding up a finger. 

 “ Mmm." He mused. “ Well in that case, quite often. I travel back and forth for work. And before you ask in a more innocent conversational way, I’m in the hospitality business. I help my family run a chain of hotels and resorts.” He said.

Explains a lot. 

“ Nice! Not a bad profession to be in especially if you have to travel.” I noted. He nods, “ No it isn’t. And between us…” He moved a bit closer, and I seemed to stiffen a bit when I got a whiff of him. He smelled….indescribable, “ I don’t come here for the drinks, just to support my friend. If I’d wanted a real beer I'd have just gone to one of the hotels. Our tap is wayyy better.”  

“ Really? And what about being nosy? Your bar good for any author looking for some material?" I teased.

He smiled, “ It’s especially good for someone nosy like you, yes. “ He stated matter of factly, I mean c’mon now. Think about how many people we get that travel back and forth through there and stop to have a drink to calm the nerves, drown sorrows, or are like you and just wanting to be in the atmosphere. You definitely meet some characters.” He pointed out.

With a thought put to it, it sounded like it made perfect sense to me.

“ I bet. Sounds like an interesting place to pick up on something.” I agree.  

“ I know." He nodded, “ But, please don’t take my word for it. You should come see for yourself."

He’d caught me by surprise with his invitation, “ I’m sorry? ” 

I could tell he took pleasure in startling me this way,  “ I said come and see it for yourself. What’re you doing Sunday night?" He posed, reaching for his suit jacket while accidentally flashing me a better glimpse at a watch that I was sure amounted to my entire four year tuition at WU. 

Immediately in my mind images of my routine Sunday night of walking around in oversized clothes and fuzzy slippers while looking like the thing they pulled out of the black lagoon as I sifted through chapter drafts and notes  flashed through my brain.

Still I decided to play it cool…as I could, “ I’m not exactly sure. I should be free, but I still need to double check. Just in case a random event I can’t remember at this particular moment is occurring." I shrugged my shoulders in a pitiful effort to sell the  sudden nonchalant attitude.

But the smirk on his face let me know he was staring straight through me, though politely he played along, “ Well, you do that. And when you figure it out. Give me a call, I’d love to have a drink and maybe help you source up some material with some pretty quality.” 

He casually handed me off a business card.

Joseph  Anoa’i 

Chief Operations Officer 

Grand Maivia Hotels Inc. 

I had to keep my eyes from bucking out of my head when I read the card.

The Grand Maivia Hotel and its variants were notorious for being one of the most inclusive, luxurious, and successful hotel chains. They were minority founded, owned, and operated with their brand expanding to sit at the table with giants like the Four Seasons, St. Regis, and the Hiltons. 

Knowing the information I knew now, explained why his presence gave off such big vibes.

But this time I was determined to keep my face neutral and not give an inch,  “ Cool.  Nice to meet you Joseph.” 

“ Joe," He corrected, “ My friends just call me Joe.” 

I arched an eyebrow, “ Ah. So we’re friends now? I mean I don’t know. I wouldn’t take you for the type to have nosy friends.” 

He laughs, “ Not letting that go, huh? "

“ Nope! " I popped the ‘ P’, digging into my purse to pull out a stray business card of my own. “ Not since you started it first. But I figured if we are then you might want this."  You handed him the card.

Caramine Lewis 

Writer and Publishing Talent 

Alma House Publishing 

His thumb ran over the name inked on the card carefully, “ It’s nice to meet you, Caramine? That short for something? “ 

“ Umm…not really.  Caramine is just my pen name. My writing alias." I watched the corners of his eyes spread in curiosity. 

“ I see. So what’s the real name?"

I smiled, a mischievous thought passing over my lips, “ Whose nosy, now?"

He laughed, “ If you can call it that. I think intrigued would be a better term."

“ C’mon what? Don’t tell me that you’ve never kept an alias before? Ya’ know have your Bruce Wayne or Clark Kent moment. Adds a good element of mystery to something.” I said, hoping that this poor attempt at flirting I was doing may have been rubbing off somewhat. 

“ No. I’m quite familiar with the idea of an alias. But I think the thing I find most interesting about them is when you get to unmask the true person behind it." He wasn’t shy about the quick survey his eyes did on me, a certain look in them appeared that I hadn’t, “ Get to know the real them.” 

I couldn’t help the heat that descended upon my cheeks, “ Well, you’ll come to find that us authors love keeping our readers intrigued by a more slow and revealing approach. Ya’ know, can’t give you everything at once.” 

“ Is that right?” His tongue fleets across his bottom lip. His eyes haven’t left mine for a hot minute, and I can feel an array of nerves  heat all over my body with every passing second they’re under his gaze.

“ Yeah.” I said, “ So, to keep you intrigued until I see you again. I think the notion of my name will be enough.”  I said, I’d noticed the involuntary pur I’d elicited into my voice now.

It hadn’t been on purpose, but I just couldn’t help myself.  

At this he moved to stand, coming a little bit closer to me until one of his knees touched mine and I was forced to tilt my head up just to meet his gaze. God, the atmosphere felt like it kept getting warmer and warmer by the minute, and for the life of me I didn’t know how much longer I could keep my cool. 

“ I guess it’s a good thing  I’ll be seeing you soon then. I’m not exactly the patient type when it comes to these things. Read the ending first kind of guy and then go from there. I like knowing what I’m getting into.” He stated.

“ So, you could imagine how easy it could be for me to just google it now. Find some kind of article that’ll tell me.  And then let those ‘ notions ‘ you speak of take hold after.”

“ You could." I agreed, “ Skip over the delight of the wonderment I mean. And just go ahead and spoil it for yourself. But something tells me you won’t.” 

He perked, a hand rested on the counter now dangerously close to mine, “ Why’s that? "

His eyes were peering down at me now, almost with a certain curiosity to them he used to mask his suspected arousal, it made my breath hitch.

“ Because you say you’re the kind of guy who likes to skip til the end and then go backward. Yet, here you are still trying to get a good read on the cover.”

“ So that patience you think you don’t have, you have it.” I concluded.

I watched the smile spread across his lips that further poked at the heat of gaze coming from his eyes which were locked on mine, “ Maybe.” He said.

“ I can work with maybe.” I said allowing myself to fully take in his features from this angle as we still held this oddly…interesting eye contact that I just in the moment couldn’t explain. 

Figuring I needed to leave before I started salivating at the mouth, I quickly announced my leaving.

“ Well Mr. Joe. As lovely as this meeting has been, the life of an author calls.” I got up to gather my things, “ I have a deadline tomorrow and I need to make sure everything is all set on my end. So this is where I’ll have to leave you…for now.”

“ I see. Well I actually should be heading out too. Got a bunch of boring back to back meetings tomorrow and they start early.”  

“ How early?" I inquired.

“ Early." He shot back without a knowing tone.

I nodded already knowing it had to be before the rooster crows.

“ Well that sucks. But hey, I guarantee you're not the only person who will be up that early. There are those who never sleep in this city, like the uber and taxi drivers. I should know, I'm taking one now." I said.

Immediately I watched him frown, “ You planned on taking a taxi home…by yourself.” 

 “ I did. And I AM.” I giggled in confirmation, taking note of his displeasure.

“ Not anymore you’re not. I’ll call one of the car services from the hotel to take you home.” He reached in his jacket pocket to produce a phone. " We're not too far from there, so it won't take too long to get here."

And just how his frown was immediate so was mine when I protested, “ Oh no. Truly that isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine. I’m a big girl who can take care of herself. Have been for a long time.” 

His eyes pulled away from the typing on the screen for a once over of me and then back to his task when he said, “ And from the looks of it you’re doing a hell of a job. But just because you can doesn’t mean you should always have to.” 

“ Plus..I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight knowing I let you get a cab instead of offering. Can’t always trust cabs or Ubers or whatever. Especially here. ” He affirmed, once he was done on his phone he looked back to me, “ You ain’t ever seen the bone collector, sweetheart? "

He referenced the 90s creepy mystery thriller staring Denzel Washington and Angelina Jolie.

“ I have." I nodded, “ A very scary movie indeed. But I hope it eases your mind when I tell you that I rarely take Ubers or taxis. I usually drive myself every which way besides when I know I’m probably going to have a bit to drink. Because in that instance I wanna be responsible and not drive.” 

“ Understood. Well for tonight at least you won’t have to worry about a cab. And if you decide to come have a drink Sunday, let me know ahead of time and I’ll be happy to arrange a driver for you for the night.” He proposed. 

“ Joe, while that’s sweet it’s really not ne-” 

“ It is to me though. So like I said, let me know.”

I watched him stand to his feet in front of me…well maybe more like over me since he easily bested my five’ seven stature by the way my face came just to meet the top of his chest. Which only heightened the smell that wafted from him. It smelled…delectable.

He was...delectable.

“ For mine, the lady, and her friends drinks.” I watched as he laid down a thick wad of cash onto the ring stained and corded wooden counter. It had to have been the amount of all our drinks five times over, “ Keep the rest for yourself. And tell Dean that Roman said the beers are still flat.” 

Roman? 

I thought we’d established his name was Joseph—Joe.

I began to wonder where the nickname had come from and why, it was definitely a bit of a sharp turn away from the name Joe. 

As if he could read my mind, he sent a knowing smile my way , " C'mon your rides’ on the way.” He beckoned me to follow him outside, he reached a hand and motioned for me to walk in front of him. 

Quickly I tried to gather myself and my belongings, my heart felt a flutter when I could sense his hand hovering just over my hips as he maneuvered us through the crowd of people. 

It was fascinating to watch the way people parted for us- Him. The smiles and nods as he moved through the room only solidified the size of his presence in the space. The acknowledgements and greetings didn’t end until we were outside in front of the bar with the cool LA night air kissing our cheeks. 

As if on cue the all black GMC SUV gilded in before us. 

“ This is you.” He motioned, “ And don’t worry. Whatever you tell him is confidential. I’m not gonna show up to your crib or start sending things. Like a nut job That ain’t me. My mother raised me better than that.” He explained.

I felt a chamber of my heart relax at the genuineness I believed I was hearing in his voice about the respect of my privacy, which had been a cause of concern when the offer was first presented.

“ Thank you for mentioning that. I appreciate it…all of it really.” 

“ You don’t have to thank me. It’s nothing. All I ask is that when you do get home, just shoot me a text and let me know.” He moved closer as we inched to the door of the truck.

“ I can most certainly do that.”  I agreed.

“ So, I’ll be seeing you Sunday night? " He asked, head tilted down just enough for the 

“ Maybe.” I answered, purposefully. 

He smiled, tongue fleeting his top lip, “ I can work with maybe.”

As he leaned down closer I couldn’t stop myself from mentally panicking at the mere belief that this handsome ass, big ass, sexy ass man was about to kiss me. 

To say my heart and mind were both collectively and desperately trying to communicate when in reality all lines of proper thoughts had been temporarily...shut down…stunned…made unavailable by the blocking signals being sent up from nether regions that I wasn’t even sure still worked.

It didn’t help that he’d gotten close enough to the point where if I’d leaned up, our lips wouldn’t have any trouble meeting. 

So it was then when he stopped leaning and said, “ Good night.” 

That all I could muster was a repetition of his words, “ Good night.” 

Like as if I was in a daze I allowed him to open the door, usher me in, and see me off as the wheels started rolling against the cracked pavement into the night air that had just become ripe with possibility. 

And all I could think was…. GotDammit Margaret.

Back Inside…

Margaret tried to compose herself as she walked back to the bar, head beginning to throb with the ghost of her husband's disappointed tone in her ear. 

At first she’d taken the call under the fluorescent light of the neon pearl sign of the building, hoping that it would offset the dreary and dark feelings of the conversation she was having. When it got more serious she’d moved to her car ready to start it up and give in to the guilt being placed on her. 

But once the call ended, she wasn’t sure if it was the effects of the asbestos from the bar, or the lingering warm feelings she had from seeing her friends, but she’d gotten out of the car and went back into the bar.

Almost as if something was drawing her back inside. 

Also, not yet wanting to leave and face the small monotony of her life, she decided one more shot of lemon infused agua wouldn’t hurt before she ventured home.

Plopping down on the bar stool in between two bar-goers, she flagged down the bartender to ask him for another bottle of lemon sparkling water to sip on while she watched the very basketball game she’d been previously fated to attend. 

She sat there for a minute not really watching the game, but rather letting it watch her, when…

“ You a fan? " A voice appeared next to her on the right. 

When she turned, at her side sat a man…

He had caramel skin and long dark hair with maroon colored tips all pulled into a low makeshift bun on his head. He wore a denim hoodie jacket and a white shirt that made the chain around his neck stand out against his intricately tattooed skin. His face was mature but his features screamed boyish, right down to the wide toothy smile on his face.

He was handsome to her… in an odd boy next door kinda way. 

“ Um…sorta. My husband legally represents the team, so we usually get season tickets we go to, but this is the first game I’ve missed since he started.”  Margaret answered, mindful to move herself over a bit to give him room. “ He’s a big fan and loves to go. So, we go.” 

“ And how long ago was that?" He inquired, eyes heavily trained on the individual in front of him. 

“ It’ll be six years in March.” A soft smile peaking at the thought of her husband’s accomplishment. 

The man's eyes shifted in curiosity to the screen, “ Wait. Hol’ up. You mean to tell me you’ve been to every single Kings game in the last six years? Even the away games? "

Margo was quietly amused with his disbelief, “ Even the away games. Either courtside or in a box somewhere. They may prove hard to manage sometimes but I always make it in the end. Only this one I couldn’t because my friend really wanted me here tonight and it’s a special occasion.” 

The man nodded, “ Wow. I get it. That’s just some real commitment right there. How long y’all been married for if you don’t mind me askin’ ?" He reached to take another sip of his drink.

Water sloshing around in a shot glass. 

“ Seven years this August. Together for nine though." She recalled just how long she and Reece had been together, internally she winced at the thought.

“ That’s wassup. Congratulations to you both.” He continued to nurse his drink.

Curious, she turned to him, “ And what about you? Married?"

This time the man downed the rest of his drink before responding, “ Engaged. Going on five years.” He revealed, only Margaret took notice of the hinge to his voice. As if he’d tasted something bitter on his tongue. Maybe his words , because it couldn’t be the water.

“ You don’t sound too happy to me for someone being engaged.” She noted.

He shook his head, “ It’s not that I’m not happy I’m engaged. I just know I’d be happier married is all.” 

Would you really? Because trust me…it ain’t all it's cracked up to be.

Caty’s lips pursed together before she spoke, “ So, then what’s stopping you? From getting married that is."

“ Her." He simply stated, “ She’s at a pivotal point right now in her career and wants to wait. Says she can’t really find the time to fully commit to things like the planning and shit like that. Bottom line, the hold up is her.” 

“ Well I can see why you’re frustrated but, at the same time it’s hard to commit to something and someone knowing that it’s not just you anymore, but rather you and I now. It can be scary committing." She reasoned, picking up her glass of water.

“ Yeah. But you did it, right? “ He threw out, “ Seven years, never miss a game, and even still you’re sitting here watching it in a bar full of alcohol having lemon water. That’s commitment, uce.” He stated, “ That shit shows you care. Your husband is lucky.” 

Only if he knew that.

Ignoring his synopsis of the information given to her,  Margaret decided to instead indulge in the latter of his statement, “ Uce? What is that? Like some islander term used or…” 

He smirks, “ Sum’ like that. It’s like the samoan version of ‘ cuz ‘ or bruh? "

“ Nice well…Mr…” 

“ Jonathan Fatu.” He stuck out his hand for her to shake, she reached out, the minute the palm of their hands touched a slight shock of electricity ran through the center of her hand and up her fingers that made her quickly pull away with a feeling of small lighting traveling up her in arm in the most peculiarly pleasant way. “ You can me Jon, though’. ” 

“ Well Jonathan. Sometimes being with someone does mean making certain…sacrifices to ensure the overall health of the relationship. It’s a give and take situation.” 

“ Yeah, I get that.” He nodded in agreement before asking her, “ But what happens when you feel like the majority of the sacrifices have been made by you? Where’s the balance in that? What do you get to take away for yourself? "

Questions Margaret couldn’t answer…not only for him, but also for herself. 

As a licensed professional she was sure she could conjure up some technical answer she would tell her clients in session, but this wasn’t what this was. 

There was no notepad in front of her to jot down notes or logistics sheets, there was no timer set, and she wasn’t sitting opposite from him across the room.

In this moment sitting next to him, side by side, she felt like a regular person. So that’s why she found it somewhat easy to give him the regular response of, “ You know. I’m not exactly sure.” 

“ I mean we all make sacrifices for the people we love but only you yourself truly know when you’ve had enough of it. You know when the sacrifice is too much and when to say when.” She followed up.

“ And you’ve never felt the need to say when about goin’ to all these damn games. I mean I could understand if you said you had to sit through a couple of Warriors games or even the Lakers. But the Kings ain’t even really on shit forreal." He motioned to the scoreboard where the Kings were still in fact getting destroyed by Celtics. 

“ I mean shit, do you even like basketball?" He laughed, emitting a small one from her.

“ Not particularly. I don’t mind it. But it’s not my first choice of a sporting event to go to. Though not a lot of people may like my picks so there’s that.” 

“ Which are? " He pressed.

She couldn’t explain why but she felt a twinge of excitement in her voice when she said, “ I like going to Tennis matches or Rugby games. I also don’t mind going to Derby games with my friends. But truly I adore going to swim meets, it’s one of my favorite things in this world…ever.” 

“ What? Swimmin’?” 

She nodded, a large smile spreading on her face at the mere notion of the water, “ Yeah. I can’t get enough of being in water. I’ve swam my entire life. Ever since I was like eight I was in youth group swimming, and then on both middle and high school swim teams. Went to college on a scholarship for it and everything."

“ Where to?" 

“ Duke.” 

“ Oh shit. That’s wassup’." He gave a grin, “ Must have been good.”

Margaret didn’t mean for a frown to spread on her face at his notion of ‘ good ' , but she couldn’t help herself when the words began coming out her mouth, “ Good? If you can call finishing the 200 yard breaststroke in one minute and fifty six seconds good.” She lifted up her lemon water to take a sip, “ Then yeah. I was pretty decent.” 

Jon smiled at the sense of pure arrogance and smugness that reeked from her upon the topic. The two hadn’t been talking all of thirty minutes, but he couldn’t tell this was something she probably didn’t do often from the way she was trying to still downplay this incredible ass record off. 

“ Ooooo WEE.” He chirped loudly, making a grinning Maragret look around, “ So you got that motor on you huh? I see you. Them sound like some Olympic ass numbers to me. I can’t see yo’ feet but you must have some flippers on you or something cause gahdamn girl!" 

The woman couldn’t help but be entertained and indulge in his theatrics, “ Hey! My feet are not that damn big. I wear a size nine thank you."

“ Alright. You may not be bigfoot but you're up there, dammit. Got some weight on em’. While you playing, them motherfuckers probably extend or some shit like Austin Powers.” He goofed.

Playfully she side eyed him smacking her lips, “ Whatever. I seen them big ass Jordans you wearing when I sat down. Big foot! " She teased, “ Can’t be the pot calling the kettle black.”

“ Touché ..Touché” He laughed, allowing their shared laughter to die down for a second before he spoke, “ But seriously though. Why you ain’t stick wit’ it. With numbers like that is some Olympic gold medal material. Why ain’t you somewhere biting the gold right now.” 

Margaret looked at him, a somewhat sullen look springing to her eyes as he asked more questions that she already asked herself over and over again for ages.

“ I could have, I’m sure. But guess you could say it goes back to our earlier topic of sacrifices." She revealed, “ I could have made the team I’m sure with my stats, even as a freshman, but by the time any of those opportunities rolled around I had to make a sacrifice that made all that impossible.” 

He nodded in understanding. He too had been in situations like that where he had to make a choice between his dream for himself or his reality that affected others, “ Sorry to hear that.” 

She shook her head, “ Don’t be. It went the way it was supposed to. Lead me to my other passion of life, so please don’t feel sorry for me.” 

“ Oh yeah? What’s that? " He questioned, giving her his full undivided attention. 

It was strange to her the way she felt heat collecting at the apple of her cheeks as a result, why did she feel bashful talking to a complete stranger? 

Being so deep in thoughts she hadn’t noticed that his eyes still hadn’t left the canvas of her face, he secretly took the time to study her features for himself, once he reached her lips…he studied the fullness and natural rose of them, hints of a smile danced on them that peaked his curiosity into her thoughts. 

“ What’chu smiling for, uce? Got somethin’ on your mind.” His voice luring her away from the lands of her mind and forces her to meet his eye contact full on. 

“ It’s nothing. I just thinkin’ about how I feel bad that we keep talking about me. I usually don't talk this much about myself, let alone to a stranger." She took a sip of her water, feeling suddenly parched, “ I’m known to be more of a listener.” 

“ But you did though. You listened to me whining about my life stuff earlier. Now we talkin’ about you. “ He said, “ It’s your turn to have the floor. It’s all about you right now, girl.”

It’s all about you right now. 

The words vaguely rang around in her ear, sounding every bit of foreign to her mind.

Nothing had ever been all about her in her life. Ever. 

“ Guess I’m just not used to that then. People listening to me talk. I usually get my fun the other way, by listening.” 

She watched a look appear on his face, one that she refused to believe was a look of more than…friendly appearances. The man was engaged after all. 

And how could she forget she was married. 

“ So, you saying talking to me is fun then? "

Without pause she nodded, " I’m enjoying myself, yes. But I don’t wanna be the only one talking you gotta want t-"

“ Don’t worry about me. I get enough of talking about myself on a daily basis. Trust me.” He stopped her, “ Right now I wanna hear what’s on your mind.” He declared, shifting his body to lean more into hers while still keeping a comfortable space between them.

“ So gon’ head and talk." He encouraged, “ Tell me about this passion of yours. Cause I’m listenin’ .” 

While Margaret was downtown discovering the joy of being the sender of the conversation rather than the receiver, some of us uptown were realizing that dialogue on a Friday night, just might be overrated.

“ Fuck! That’s good.” Anthea’s declaration of lust bouncing off the walls of the man’s place. 

It did well to harmonize with the sounds of his thighs repeatedly beating off the skin of her ass, as he had her legs suspended over his shoulders and head buried in her neck by her ear.

That was the shoulders of the man she'd involuntarily picked up at the bar on whim as she made her way outside.

Just as she’d thought back at the restaurant, she was sure in her spontaneous pick of night. Upon getting in the car he’d made her cum within minutes with the thickness and calculations of his fingers. 

She was pleased to say that hadn’t disappointed with his particularly thick dick either, well that was until…

“ Yeah. Right there, honey! You’re right on my spot. Don’t stop!" She moaned, reaching out to dig at the ridges of his chiseled abdomen. 

She felt him press a run a hand over her naked ass as he said, “ Yeah you want me to cum all in that ushy gushy pussy, baby. Give you my slimey cum all in that shit. Make that pussy leak that watery shit all over my dick. Make it moist.” 

And in that moment maybe she could have ignored all his disgustingly horrible banter the man was spewing out of his sudden sewer of a mouth, but the last word he used had been found to have the opposite effect on Anthea as the word's intended meaning. 

Like when the world turned on it’s axis and dried up the once ocean filled Sahara, Anthea felt herself being thrown off her belt of pleasure only to feel herself dry up and shrivel to uncomfortability. 

Without thought she immediately tapped the groaning and sweat slicked man to cease his movement, “ Sweetheart, you’re done.” She began wiggling out of his grasp only to be stop by a hand on her thigh as her head rushed companion said, “ Awe naw, baby. I ain’t but I’m on the way.” He groaned, still attempting to thrust in her.

This time Anthea figured a more stern approach was needed, “ Yes, you are on your way. Out of my apartment that is. Please get off me and collect your things so you can leave.” She made quick work of pushing him off of her, not hard but with enough force to move a bewildered him to the side.

Shocked and obviously frustrated at his ruined moment, he asked, “ Woah, baby. What happened? I thought we were both there. Didn’t you feel good having me in you like that? Talking you through.”

Anthea had now moved to her feet going over to grab her vintage 1993 Chanel Terry Cloth Robe from her vanity as her head whirled around at words.

“ Talking me through it?!" She gaped, “ No, hun. if anything you were talking me out of it. Out of my fucking orgasm and you out of my apartment. So, please. Grab your things while I call down and let the valet know to bring your car around.” She reached for her.

And of course as expected he got to grumbling to retrieve his scattered Men’s warehouse clothes muttering profanities as he dressed, much to Anthea’s disinterest.

Eventually he made his way to the door with Anthea following behind, still upset and pouting like a child denied their favorite treat. 

When he stepped to the hallway, Anthea leaned against the doorframe to make sure he retreated to the elevator, he turned to say a final, “ Fuck you. Ole’ bougie ass bitch.” 

Smiling with the enjoyment of knowing she’d gotten under the man’s skin she said, “ I wish you could. Fuck me that is. But sadly the only thing you managed to do was finger me half decent in the car, slobber all over my fucking thigh for thirty minutes, and thrust in me for another hour while you talked to me like I was the fucking attendant at local sewage plant. So, no. Not fuck me, it’s you needing to learn how to fuck.” And with that she shut her door in satisfaction, which quickly morphed into self reflected anger.

Angry at herself for not just going with her first mind and saving herself both the effort and time by just going ahead and resorting to her personal version of ‘ ole’ faithful ‘. 

Her thumb hovering over the contact with both reluctance and need, she knew if she did this it would only make her situationship more complex than what it already was.

But then again she knew that above all other pleasures, this person could offer her something that others like them couldn't; Discretion. 

Which in line of work, was valuable. 

As predicted the line only rang twice before a soft voice could be heard on the line, sending chills through her spine.

“ You can’t keep doing this. It’s not healthy.” 

The corners of Anthea’s mouth upturned at the routine attempted guise of respectability, “ Yet every time you answer without failure. Hypocritical much?” 

Before the third ring at that. 

“ I never said you were the only one making unhealthy decisions here. I always own my part, don’t I? " 

Anthea agreed, “ You do quite well. Which is why I think this works so well. We both know our roles and play our parts. Maximum effort on both ends.” 

“ Indeed." The voice sighed, “ So, how soon do you need me?” 

Her bottom lip stuck under her perfect porcelain teeth for a moment before she spoke, “Hmmmm. Three hours ago would’ve been nice, but I’m willing to settle for now.” 

And then the words she’d wanted to hear so eagerly graced her ears,  “ I’m on my way.” 

As soon as the ‘ click ‘ of the phone was heard, the hot and tingly feelings anticipation ravaged Anthea’s stomach, just the way she hoped this person would. 

And at home Celine was also having some more abrupt feelings come up those being ….reminiscence….longing….and confusion. 

The Polaroid picture in her hand of her and her past lover only fueled them further as she flipped through the memories they once shared in what felt like a lifetime ago. 

Within the box before her sat almost three years worth of pictures, letters, etc from their relationship.  

But alongside these mementos also sat the secret police reports and medical records she always kept with her as a reminder of the past. A past that no one else knew of…not even her family.  

Just like in a similar instance, her friends didn’t know about the message she’d received at the top the morning in her email inbox. A key fact she was keen on keeping to herself as she tried to sort through the file folders of her feelings by her lonesome. 

The message that read:

SDJ@delmontpremiers.com: All I need is a chance to set the mess I made right. I’m in the city again. Permanently. Call me when you get this. My number hasn’t changed. Please, Celine. I miss you.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

First Tears: Chaggie

Chaggie Week of Firsts - Day 4

In the Morningstar mansion (castle, it's definitely a small scale castle) guest bedroom where Vaggie is sitting up in bed with fresh bandages. Charlie is sitting on a plush chair at her bed side. The remains of a shared lunch sit on a platter on the bedside table.

Charlie: Soooooo.... Pa-pa-pa... (taps her hands against the edge of the bed) How are you feeling?

Vaggie: Honestly, I'm doing much better. (clears her throat) I probably should have said this earlier, but thank you. For all the help. I'm not used to... well... any of this.

Charlie: (beams with sunshine sparkles) It's no problem! Really! Actually, you being here has been amazing!

Vaggie: I've literally just been sleeping and being a leach.

Charlie: YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE A LEACH!!! Ah! Sorry. You're not a leach, Vaggie. I've appreciated your company. (softens and stares down at her hands on the bed) It makes the estate feel less... lonely.

Vaggie: (eyes soften) Hey.

Charlie: (looks up at Vaggie) Hmm?

Vaggie: (gently places her hand on Charlie's) I get it.

Bedroom Clock: Tick! .... Tick! .... Tick! .... Tick! .... DONG!!!

Vaggie: (blushes and looks at her hand before quickly tearing it away) Sorry! Sorry. I probably should have asked first.

Charlie: (blushing so hard her cheek circles disappear - thinking: I'm never washing this hand again - before snapping back to the present) NO!!! No! It's fine! Fine! Really! I've already manhandled you while you were topless, it's only fair!

Vaggie: (remaining eye nearly pops out of her socket as she blushes harder)

Charlie: (stomach drops) NOT LIKE THAT!!!! Like from when I've helped you bandage your back!!! I haven't been sneaking into your room at night to cop-a-feel!!! I swear!!!

-Awkward Silence-

Charlie: (trying her damndest to save the conversation) H-Have you ever wondered why.... pineapples don't wear sunglasses?

Vaggie: (blinks in sheer shock at the sudden shift in conversation) Pineapples don't have eyes.

Charlie: But imagine if they did! They'd be the coolest fruit around. Speaking of cool, do you know what's cool? Penguins. They waddle around like they own the ice.

Vaggie: Uh-huh...

Charlie: And then there are those random thoughts that pop into your head! Like, why do we say "heads up!" when we really mean "duck"?

Vaggie: (rolls her eye as she slowly untenses her shoulders) ......I've got to be dreaming right now.

Charlie: (completely misses Vaggie's statement) Oh! D-Did you know that the universe is expanding? It's like a giant balloon getting bigger and bigger, except there's no clown making balloon animals out of stars.

Vaggie: Pfft! (covers her mouth) Charlie, please...

Charlie: Okay, okay, I'll stop... After I tell you about this amazing deodorant I found! It smells like vanilla mixed with a hint of honey, and it mixes perfectly with my cherry apple shampoo and body wash! I smell like an apple pie!

Vaggie: (whole face goes blank) Did- .....Did you just say you smell like an apple pie?

Charlie: Um... yes? Isn't it delightful?

Vaggie: ....heh

Charlie: Vaggie?

Vaggie: Hehehehe...

Charlie: Vaggie, are you okay?

Vaggie: (bursts into laughter so loud that it makes Razzle and Dazzle jump up from their naping spot in the windowsill) I cannot believe you're real!!!

Charlie: (undignified pout) Hey! What's that supposed to mean!?

Vaggie: (doubles over in laughter as tears stream down her cheeks) You... you smell like an apple pie!

Charlie: (pout sets deeper) Hey, don't make fun of me!

Vaggie: (still laughing and wiping away a tear) I'm sorry! I just... I can't believe you actually said that!

Charlie: (smiling back before pretending to scoff haughtily) Well, it's true! And it's not just any apple pie, it's like... gourmet apple pie!

Vaggie: (gets sent into another round of giggles) You're the Princess of Hell for fuck's sakes, Charlie!

Charlie: (trying to hold back her own laughter) And I smell A-MA-ZING!!!

Vaggie: I shouldn't be laughing! That shampoo and body wash you gave me makes me smell like a pina colada every time I shower!

Charlie: (laughter finally bursts passed her lips) Maybe I did that on purpose! Make you smell so good I want to drink you down!

Vaggie: (still giggling) What? You want me to take a bite out of you while you drink me in or something? I don't think you taste as good as an actual pie, Charlie.

Charlie: (snickering) Wanna find out?

-Pause as the world goes silent-

Charlie: (blushing) I-I mean....

Vaggie: (arches an eyebrow and smirks) Maybe another time, princesa. We did just eat lunch.

Charlie: (steam billows out of her ears as she undergoes a full body blush) Hoooooooh-oh-okay.....

[punkpandapatrixk]

Shifts in Focus~♪

Yooo have you been healthy, peeps? I’ve been doing A. MA. ZING. since now I’ve got the means to buy plenty of food and snacks weekly🍛🍨🥃 I’ve got to believe that this is my chapter where the Wheel of Fortune is finally turning around🎉🤣🍒 If you’re someone who’s still struggling financially and/or figuring out your next steps, I believe this autumn season is going to shower you with so much good aenergy and everything is only gonna get better🚀 You’ll see in my next Full Moon PAC (tho it’s a bit tardy XD)

🌝🎑🥮

Now that I’ve somewhat got a ‘stable job’ that I actually enjoy doing, there have been massive changes in my daily routines and priorities. I’ve gotten healthier, of course, and that’s something I’m most grateful for🩻 With my new schedules and routines, I’ve got to shift my focus for the blog as well, as I want to offer you content that’s most exciting and helpful with the time I have🍉

Therefore, I've got some blog updates on what’s going and coming~🌟 (for now XD)

Oracle Alchemy

No longer doing it. I’ve to admit I’ve never been good (or even keen) at sharing life updates with people I don’t know. Actually, I don’t even talk about stuff like that with people I do know XD So, I’ll just write updates on the blog whenever there’s one~🫠

I’ll change Tier 1 benefit on Patreon. It’ll be only for ‘General Support for the Blog’. Of course, anybody choosing this tier will instantly have access to all previous Oracle Alchemy posts~🍀 The Soul Alchemy parts are worthwhile, I promise XD 🍇

Punk Panda Pick-A-Pic

Yaaas, this will be main focus. Of course. Now that I’m not distracted with other types of content, I think I can smoothly get on with my list of PAC ideas that at this point are enough content for the next 3 yeeaaarrsss🌱🌿🍀

I’m thinking of conducting some polling in the near future. Like a KYC survey or something LMAO To know what kinds of life concerns you’re dealing with most. It would be nice if the PACs can reflect that more, right?📖🪩🪞

Punk Astro Guidance

No. Not. Nope. This segment has always been way too much work and aenergy and I’m saying this the second time: I’ve never truly spiritually enjoyed writing periodic readings😭🫠😵

Punk Panda Affirmations

I believe I’ll still be writing concept affirmations. They’re really beneficial for me myself, actually, and I think it can do you good if you script your own affirmations, too. This habit gets you manifesting much more quickly, I think🤭

Moon Panda Pick-A-Pic

Possibly will be my only reading that caters to periodic readings. That should be good enough as I essentially struggle with time XD Plus, the collages are always so pretty ^^ I’ll try to post closer to the time of the FM hahahah🤪

More that’s coming…

I’ll update another time as this is quite a lot of shifts already~ If you’ve ever seen my updates on Patreon you know I’m not very good at keeping up with my updates as I change my mind all the time!! LMAO

Aaa there’s simply so much I want to do!!🤩 And I don’t really know how to convey this excitement! I don’t even know why I’m excited seeing as I’ve been doing this for 3 years anyway LMAO

Thank you for tagging along🌷 Especially thank you for any kind of support you’ve ever given me on Patreon~🍊 Your patronage has been life changing to say the least!!!💝

May this autumn season bring you the greatest blessings for all your kindness and compassion that you’ve ever shared with any any anybody in your amazing Life~🍑🌾🍁🎃

❌💋❌💋

[transbianmuffin]

Memories pt. 5

cw basically a queer cuddle puddle with lots of drugs

If you enjoy shoegaze and heavy synths I highly suggest to have in background "Lower your eyelids to die with the sun" by M83 while reading this. It was my main soundtrack when I wrote this fic and I think that it would enhance the overall experience :3

********

"Sinea! Welcome, long time no see!"

"Xarsei, thanks for having us even with such short notice."

"And losing the opportunity to finally see Chloratea's first pet in many years? Seven hundred? Eight hundred? Roots, nobody, NOBODY would want to miss that."

"I- I'm n-"

"She's not my pet. Xarsei, she's my ward."

"Sure, sure she is. Now little one, you look amazing by the way, would you want to go with the others? Me and Sinea have some catching up to do."

"..."

"You can go, Deena. I'll be here, whenever you need me just look in my direction and I'll come immediately."

"Ok... thank you."

"Not your pet, eh?"

"I'm working on it. She wants to be, that's clear as the morning summer sunlight, but I want her to beg on her knees to be taken by me."

"Dirt Sinea, you truly want to break her."

"No, not at all. She's already mine. She only needs to realize it."

"She is cute, though."

"She is the cutest creature in the universe."

[Floret 1] "Oh my oh my oh here she iiiis~"

[Floret 2] "You look gorgeous sweetie~"

[Floret 3] "This dress in a-ma-zing. I want to make out with you."

"W- well I-"

god she's on me, her tongue tastes like sweet lavander I'm making out with this cute girl I just met and my head is already starting to feel dizzy

[Floret 1] "Awww~ you two are sooo cute."

"A- ah- sorry I was saying, hi I'm Deena! I'm Sinea's..."

[Floret 2] "First floret!"

"...ward."

[Floret 1] "Oh a ward! That's cute! But but but we need to introduce us! I'm Kyle Graemina, first floret!"

[Floret 2] "I'm Hipatia Sinens, fourth floret!"

[Floret 3] "And I'm Maddi Sinens, first floret and Hipatia's connivent. I want to make out with you again."

[Kyle] "Maddi, give Deena a break. Sorry, her mistress always fills her up with Class D and Class J before doing this gatherings."

[Maddi] "Hipatiaaaaa~"

[Hipatia] "Yes, sweetie?"

[Maddi] "Come here~"

"So, Kyle, are you happy?"

[Kyle] "What? Sure I'm happy. We're all happy! Our Affinis provide us with everything we need. We don't have a care in the world besides being cute."

"I guess so."

[Kyle] "Are YOU happy?"

"I wasn't happy for a long time."

[Kyle] "And now?"

"I am now."

[Kyle] "Here, smell this lily. My mommy gave it to me for you."

this smells so nice...oh that dizziness again, I can't stand on on my own feet Kyle is so cute I want to play with Hipatia hair I want to melt between Maddi's arms

[Kyle] "Come Deena, let's join the others."

this fluffy cushion is soo good on my skin Maddi embraces me while Hipatia starts kissing my neck.

Her kisses burn my skin with pleasure every time her lips leave that little bit of saliva my nerves send blissful pulses to my brain which in return makes my body shivering with anticipation for the next one

Maddi plays with my hair while Kyle kisses sloppily her free hand

I never felt so good in my whole life

Her fingers running through my locks make my scalp go numb while Hipatias kisses keep getting closer and closer to my mouth until we kiss

Colours starts to blend together as I close my eyes and I feel my anxiety, my fears, my trust issues my imposter syndrome my sense of inadequacy the hate I have for my past comrades myinsecuritiesmydysphoriamydysmorphiamyrage

gone

all gone

far away

far away million light years away left behind dying like the stars in a system too old to be remembered

there's only bliss

there's love

I kiss Hipatia

She then kisses Maddi

Kyle and I feel each other skin, each other limbs, each other sweet sweat

my nails pierce Maddi's skin while she moans gently begging for more

there's peace

there's kindness

there's joy

a sharp pain followed immediately by pleasure fills my limbic system as Maddi's canines make their way in the side of my neck eradicating any thoughts for a couple of seconds that feel like centuries

I don't want to go back to Jupiter

I want Maddi, I want Hipatia, I want Kyle

I don't want be to be an Independent Terran

I want to be a pet

I want to be Sinea's tulip

My body is numb with overstimulation my mind is composed of millions of figments made of pure pleasure

I-

I-

"Little one?"

"..."

"It's time to go, you all collapsed. We are taking you to bed."

"C-can..."

tell her tell her that you want to be her pet tell her now

"Sure you can sleep with them tonight, if only you could look at the three you. You are so cute all melted one against the other."

"Sinea~"

"Sleep, my dearest, tomorrow we will talk."

"That went well."

"A lily filled with Class D, a pretty strong strain of A and enough N to denying any climax despite almost reaching it. Wasn't I the cruel one, Xarsei?"

"Oh come on, what's the fuss? You don't really care, or maybe?"

"Watch your mouth."

"Maybe you are upset because I drugged your poor pet, ehm ward, without you knowing it."

"Do it again without my permission, Xersei, and I'll punch you so hard in the face you'll leak sap for a month."

"Duly noted, Sinea~"

********

[aliavian]

I just love Team CFVY and never ever get tired of drawing them! 🥰

💛❤️🤎💚 Had to do a lil’ colored draw of this CFVY pose!

The Episode 11 Animatic was just A-MA-ZING! 😭👌❤️

The artists & everyone involved did some absolute gold in this animatic!

[braxiatel]

Goodtimeswithscar is a sexyman and I will prove it to you

If you are still on the fence I encourage you to look at the sexypedia - a wikipedia dedicated to tumblr sexymen - and checking out their tropes page. Scar meets 35/62 on a list where recent winner of the tumblr sexyman poll Cecil Palmer of WTNW fame only has 8 listed on his character page!

35!

Scar is Textbook, and if you need proof I have gone through all the tropes and explained why they apply to him!

VOTE SCAR!

4th Wall Blurring: This one is arguable due to the nature of the medium but I’ll include it

Animal Theming: See: animal hybrid headcanons and designs. Cat Scar, panda Scar, hyena Scar, avian Scar - they’re everywhere!

Angst: That cactus ring… magic mountain. need I say more? This boy has angst. 

Bait: *gestures at the shirtless skins*

Capitalist: she sells sea shells on the sea shore but the value of these shells will fall due to the laws of supply and demand no one wants to buy shells cause there’s loads on the sand step one you must create a sense of scarcity 

Chaoslord: HotGuy! [snipes you for no good reason]

Criminal: shells will sell much better if the people think they’re rare you see bear with me take as many shells as you can find and hide them on an island stockpile them high until they’re rarer than the price of diamond

Con Artist: step two gotta make the people think that they want them really fucking want them hit ‘em like Bronson influencers product placement if you haven’t got a shell then you’re just a fucking waste man

Dealmaker: three it’s monopoly invest inside some property start a corporation make a logo do it properly shells must sell that will be your new philosophy swallow all your morals they’re a poor man’s quality

Distinctive Voice: I do not need to make any arguments here. Have you heard him???

Quotable Catchphrase(s): well hello there, scarred for life, “a-ma-zing”, etc.

Distinctive Laugh: I think I autism stole Scar’s laughter (whoops) so I’m giving him this one too, but also that gigle is just very good and we all know it, right?

Dominating: from the trope description: “Characters who assert their power over others. Could be through manipulation, magic, smugness, or force of personality.” Yes. 

Duality: Convex did not put their whole entire vexussies into that possession storyline for us to forget about it. 

Egotistical: This one is arguable and a question of characterisation, but I think that we can all agree that on some levels, yes. 

Eldritch: From the trope description: “Since the typical sexyman is a tall mostly human looking pale twink, in a vast majority of the cases the eldritch is a heavy implication lying just under the surface.” Hello? Vex Scar?? 

Gay: See subsection: 

LGBTQ+ Coded: That cactus ring. Mumbo “eye candy” Jumbo. The season 7 mayoral race. Concorp. His jolly rancher arc. This man has so many boyfriends. 

Girlboss: listen I think a lot of characters who aren’t traditional girlbosses get called so, but with Scar I think it’s accurate okay. Did Scar utilize girl power effectively when he and Cub were blatant war profetiers during the season 6 civil war? yes. Absolutely. Girlboss. 

Glowing Neon: vex blue anyone?

Hot-headed: Don’t let his calm exterior fool you. Remember. Scar when someone steals his horse: *sets their whole entire house on fire*. 

Intelligence: yes but also see subsection

Smartdumb: Okay listen. Scar is Smart. Scar is very smart. And I specifically have to make sure you know I am talking character only here because cc!Scar seems to me to be a Very intelligent person with a wide field of knowledge. But uhm. c!Scar dies so much and so often in ways that are completely unavoidable. He does silly things without thinking of the consequences. I have seen enough people calling him a himbo (beloathed term) enough times that I do not need to argue this point. He is smart but also babygirl Why are you like this.

Johnlocked: “When two characters are shipped extensively by fans despite the pairing not necessarily being canon (or even present) in the original work.” it started out with a cactus ring how did it end up like this, it was only a cactus ring, it was only a cactus ring

Knifemurder: Hotguy! [snipes you a second time] 

Magnificent Bastard: This Is The Whole Point. Scar oozes charisma even when he is the villain and that’s why he is so beloved. He is smart, he is stylish, he is charming, even while he is killng you. This is the point. 

Marked Canon/Fanon Divergence: “Sexymen with a large gap between how they are in the original work (Canon) and how they are commonly portrayed in fanworks (Fanon)” see : the fake crystals vs Scar actually having magic, the abs being painted on vs shirtless Scar everywhere, etc.

Monster Features: vex scar vex scar vex scar

Nonhuman: like the vex thing is literally canon it’s not fanon those cons sure did vex 

Pale Twink: We could have done many things with this collection of blocks people, and yet my dash is full of shirtless twinks/twunks every day ending with a y. Curious. 

Perpetual Smiler: Okay listen this is partially the nature of the medium but also 1) that is a distinctive smile and 2) have you see the fanworks? 

Power: This man tried to sell fake magic crystals and we all just decided he can do magic. He was an elf once and now fae/elf Scar headcanons are everywhere. 

Scars: I- I’m not explaining myself here. yes??? 

Tall: I can think of one, maybe two portrayals of Scar that have made him short. 

Theme Song: four expand, expand, expand clear forest make land fresh blood on hands five why just shells why limit yourself she sells seashells sell oil as well six guns sell stocks sell diamonds sell rocks sell water to a fish sell the time to a clock seven press on the gas take your foot off the brakes then run to be the president of the united states eight big smile mate big wave that's great now the truth is overrated tell lies out the gate nine polarise the people controversy is the game it don't matter if they hate you if they all say your name ten the world is yours step out on a stage to a round of applause uou're a liar a cheat a devil a whore and you sell seashells on the seashore

Unkempt: so those rugged life series Scars, huh? 

Villain: Scar has been the villain several times and has a Long list of crimes to his name

Technically Antagonist: see 3rd life

Villain Protagonist: unreliable narrator Scar my beloved. I love how he just *does terrible things edited to make him look like he’s just a silly little guy having some harmless fun*

Well-Dressed: Hmmm I wonder why waggon/tycoon Scar routinely wins every Scar skin poll. Also he has enough outfits to include these sub categories too: 

Suitguy: “Characters who typically wear formalwear, specifically suits. Often includes waistcoats, top hats, bowties, and pinstripes. Other neckwear may also be worn.” Again. The tycoon skin really lives rent free in all out minds, huh?

Long Coat/Cape/Robe/Etc: bathrobe wizard Scar my beloved but also do you know how many thirst trap last life Scars I’ve seen?? 

White Twink Humanization: He is made out of blocks in canon. We did not need to make him like this and yet we did. 

White Hair: last life Scar beloved by many <3

VOTE SCAR!

[spicykaraage]

Ryoga Echizen Tenigo Episodes - Story Translation

[Improvement Level 1 - Episode 1]

Koharu: Hm, hm-hm, hmm~♪

Koharu: One, two… one, two… Last, right… then turn!

Koharu: And… pose☆ That—was—per-fect♡

Ryoga: Whoa! Not too bad.

Koharu: Hm… who’s there?

Ryoga: I wasn’t trying to sneak a peek, but I was napping on that bench over there and ended up—

Koharu: It’s you…

Koharu: Big brother♡

Ryoga: I’m not your big brother.

Koharu: Oh, you make a good straight man♡

Koharu: What about Echizen-kun? Oh, but then people would get it confused with Seigaku’s Echizen-kun…

Koharu: How about Ryoga-kun?

Ryoga: Call me whatever you want. Anyway, what was that dance just now?

Koharu: It’s from this new song by an idol group I saw on TV yesterday… The choreography I did was by the girl in the center.

Ryoga: Wow… So you memorized that dance just by watching it once on TV?

Koharu: Once I see an idol perform, I can perfectly copy their dances… It’s a special skill of mine♡

Ryoga: Kakaka! You’re pretty interesting. I like that.

Koharu: Oho, I’m so happy to hear that. And I like me a handsome fellow like you, Ryoga-kun♡

Ryoga: I think you got the wrong idea… Well, whatever.

Ryoga: Since you can move that well, you should be able to do other dances, right?

Koharu: You think so? I haven’t tried any other dances before.

Ryoga: How about you try this on for size? Like this.

Koharu: Whoa, breakdancing!?

Ryoga: It’s just a quick rundown.

Koharu: A-ma-zing♡ I’m falling in love.

Ryoga: Now it’s your turn. Show me what you got.

Koharu: Like this…?

Ryoga: See, I knew you could do it. You’re definitely talented.

Koharu: T-Y-S-M♡

Ryoga: Whaddya think? Wanna try another dance?

Ryoga: There’s this place where the guys who like dancing go to practice. Let’s head over there.

Koharu: If I’m with you Ryoga-kun, wherever you go, I’ll follow♡

[Improvement Level 1 - Episode 2]

Ryoga: Here we are. One of the guys who likes dancing should be practicing over here.

Jackal: Oh, what’s going on? Senpai and Konjiki, never thought I’d see you guys together.

Koharu: Rikkai’s Kuwahara-kun. Do you dance too?

Jackal: Yeah, I do a little hip hop. Wait a sec, don’t tell me you like to dance too, Konjiki!?

Koharu: For me, I like doing idol dances.

Jackal: Idol dances…?

Koharu: One, two… one, two… Last, right… then turn!

Koharu: And… pose☆ What do you think?

Jackal: W-Wow… not bad.

Ryoga: Wahaha, right?

Ryoga: This guy’s pretty good, so I wanted him to try other dances.

Ryoga: If you’re up to it, how about teaching him your hip hop moves?

Jackal: Sure, that’s fine. I was just waiting for someone, so I have the time.

Jackal: Okay then, let’s start off small. First, I’ll do the basic steps—

Koharu: Ah! Ha! Ho! Ho! Hey yo! Man!

Jackal: (Wait, are you serious… He can copy my moves that well after just watching me one time!?)

Ryoga: Heh, he’s something isn’t he. Okay, lemme join you…

Koharu: Come on, Ryoga!

Ryoga: Yeah! Here we go!

Jackal: (E-Even senpai is… Well, of course, since breakdancing’s his thing…)

Jackal: (Konjiki and him are so freaking cool! Man, I really wanna dance now too!)

Koharu: Come on, Jackal!

Ryoga: Are you ready?

Jackal: Yeah! Let’s hip hop!

[Improvement Level 1 - Episode 3]

Kamio: Sorry, Kuwahara-san. I hope you weren’t waiting too long—

Jackal: Say yo!

Ryoga: Yo! Yo!

Jackal: Say ho!

Koharu: Ho! Ho!

Kamio: Uh… what’s going on…?

Jackal: Oh, you’re here, Kamio.

Kamio: Well of course I’m here. Why are you all hip hop dancing?

Jackal: These two asked me to teach them.

Jackal: Oh yeah. Maybe you can teach them tap dancing too.

Kamio: Huh? Why would I do that…

Ryoga: Because it’d be cool.

Ryoga: So, you gonna show us?

Koharu: I would love to learn it from you♡

Kamio: But, I had something I was gonna do with Kuwahara-san—

Jackal: This is how you’ll make up for being late. Now quit your griping and teach Konjiki.

Kamio: …Alright, fine. If you say so, Kuwahara-san.

Koharu: Be easy on me, okay? Please—and—thank—you♡

Kamio: …*sigh*

Kamio: …Okay, so you’re gonna get into the rhythm like this—

Koharu: Like this?

Kamio: Wha…!? N-No way… You know how to do it already…!?

Koharu: I’m riding the rhythm♡

Ryoga: Wahaha, pretty good, huh?

Jackal: Tch, I can’t even believe it, I think he’s got us beat when it comes to dancing…

Koharu: Trying out all these different dances is a lot of fun.

Koharu: But for me, the one I love doing the most are idol dances.

Koharu: Plus, any choreography of the girl in the center position is perfect for me.

Koharu: So now, it’s my turn to teach you all how to dance like idols.

Koharu: Let’s all be idols together♡

Jackal: W-Well, that’s, uh…

Kamio: I’d rather not…

Ryoga: Have us all become idols, huh. You really are an interesting guy! Kakaka!

[Improvement Level 2 - Episode 1]

Ryoga: Orange Ponta is the best, isn’t it?

Ryoma: Grape is.

Ryoga: You mean orange.

Ryoma: Grape only.

Ryoga: You’re stubborn, you know that.

Ryoma: So are you.

Ryoga: Heh… I think we can hold off on this for today, don’t you.

Ryoma: Yeah. We did come all this way to look for it.

Ryoga: The new Ponta flavor being sold for a limited time only in Japan… “Persimmon” flavor!

Ryoga: Apparently people have been saying it’s pretty good…

Ryoma: Are they really selling it here? I haven’t seen it at all.

Ryoga: Just be patient. They said a vending machine at the corner of the district has it—

Ryoga: Oop, bingo. Look, Chibisuke. There’s the persimmon flavor.

Ryoma: Hmm, so they do have it.

Ryoga: Here, let your kind older brother get it for you.

Ryoma: Uh-huh, thanks.

—

Ryoga: Here.

Ryoma: Thank you.

Ryoma: Okay…

Ryoga: Bottoms up!

Ryoma: …

Ryoga: …

Ryoga: …Well?

Ryoma: …What about you?

Ryoga: Uhm, yeah… It’s definitely persimmon flavor… Yep…

Ryoma: They overhyped it.

Ryoga: Jeez… You didn’t even hesitate.

Ryoma: Well yeah, the one I like to drink always tastes better.

Ryoma: Here, this one’s on me. Orange for you, right?

Ryoga: Oh… are you sure?

Ryoma: I don’t care… Now we’re even.

Ryoga: Heh, oh really. Then thank you for doing that for me.

Ryoga: Ahhh! Yeah, that’s the one!

Ryoma: Right.

Ryoga: There are some things you just can’t replace. Better keep that in mind, Chibisuke.

Ryoma: What do you even mean by that.

—

Ryoga: Hm? Hey, come take a look at this, Chibisuke.

Ryoma: What?

Ryoga: Check out this poster.

Ryoma: …An antique market?

Ryoga: Looks like they’re doing it over at the shrine.

Ryoga: I don’t have anything planned after this, so why don’t we swing by?

Ryoma: Oh, that’s a surprise… You’re into that kind of stuff?

Ryoga: It’s just something to help pass the time, so let’s go.

Ryoma: Ah! Wait…!

[Improvement Level 2 - Episode 2]

Ryoga: Hey, aren’t those guys over there from your school, Chibisuke?

Ryoma: …Momo-senpai and Kaidoh-senpai.

Ryoma: It’s rare to see those two together.

Momoshiro: Why are you walking next to me!?

Kaidoh: Because we’re heading back in the same direction, obviously!

Ryoga: Sounds like they got beef…

Ryoma: They’re always like that when they’re around each other.

Ryoga: Oh, really? Must be nice to have that kind of energy.

Momoshiro: Hm? Oh, hey!

Ryoma: What’re you guys doing here?

Momoshiro: We’re heading home from our shopping trip.

Ryoma: …The both of you?

Kaidoh: It’s nothing like that…!

Momoshiro: We ran into each other at the store, and we ended up leaving at the same time~…

Kaidoh: Not that I wanted that to happen…

Ryoga: Heh, you must be pretty good friends.

Momoshiro & Kaidoh: Excuse me!?

Ryoga: That was some good unison…

Momoshiro: Well, anyway, why are you guys here?

Ryoma: Well…

Ryoga: We both wanted to try the persimmon-flavored Ponta…

Kaidoh: …Persimmon-flavored?

Ryoma: You don’t need to tell them everything.

Ryoga: What, are you embarrassed? Kakaka!

Ryoma: No, I’m not.

Ryoga: You get embarrassed when someone you know sees you with your family, don’t you. Classic.

Ryoma: I’m telling you I’m not…!

Momoshiro: Haha, you got him out of character!

Ryoma: …We’re on our way to that antique market.

Ryoga: There’s a poster for it on that wall if you wanna check?

Momoshiro: Whoa, so they’re holding an antique market at the shrine.

Kaidoh: …!

Momoshiro: What’s up?

Kaidoh: N-No… it’s nothing…

Ryoga: Did that cat figurine on the poster catch your eye?

Kaidoh: Nuh-No…!?

Momoshiro: It did, you like cats.

Kaidoh: Shut up, Momoshiro… When did I ever say I like cats!?

Ryoma: We already know. You love cats, Kaidoh-senpai.

Kaidoh: What—huh…!?

Ryoga: Wahaha, hey, nothing wrong with that.

Ryoga: Anyway, if it’s something you guys are interested in, then you should come with us!

Momoshiro: Right, let’s go!

Kaidoh: (People already know I love cats… No… it can’t be…)

[Improvement Level 2 - Episode 3]

Ryoga: Whoa, talk about a crowd!

Ryoma: There’s a lot more people than I expected.

Momoshiro: Whoa!?

Ryoga: What?

Momoshiro: Th-There’s this… huge person…

Kaidoh: He’s a head… no, at least two heads taller than everyone.

Ryoma: That’s…

Ryoga: Oh, it’s him.

Ryoga: Yo, Ochi.

Ochi: …Echizen.

Ryoga: What a coincidence we’d run into you here. You like antiques?

Ochi: I’m not interested.

Ryoga: Oh, then why are you here?

Ochi: I’m just stopping by on my walk.

Ryoga: Alright then. But y’know you kinda stick out like a sore thumb, right?

Ochi: …

Kaidoh: I wouldn’t go that far…

Ochi: …Right.

Ryoga: Nah, I would say so…

Ryoga: See, there’s an old lady over there facing towards you with her hands together.

Ochi: I’m not a god.

Ryoga: Well, yeah, but…

Ryoga: Here, why don’t you come look around with us so people don’t get thrown off by you?

Ochi: I’ve no interest in associating with you.

Ryoga: Oof, okay… He left.

Momoshiro: But at least with his height, we’ll always be able to find him…

Kaidoh: It’s obvious he wanted to hang with us even though he said he didn’t.

Ryoga: Well, I’ll try asking him again later.

Ryoga: Alrighty, let’s get a move on too.

Ryoga: You’re all free to go from here. Go ahead and look around wherever.

Ryoga: We’ll meet back here in an hour. Okay?

Ryoma: I won’t need that much free time…

—

Ryoga: Oh, you’re finally back, Chibisuke.

Ryoga: You sure took your sweet time picking out what you wanted, what happened to you not needing that much time?

Ryoma: …They were selling the back issues of “TENNIS LIFE.”

Ryoma: So, yeah…

Momoshiro: I got some used clothes! …And you got a cat figurine, didn’t you?

Kaidoh: Wha!? How’d you know that!?

Ryoma: ‘Cause it’s obvious.

Kaidoh: Wh… Are you kidding me…!?

Ryoga: Wahaha, well it’s good that you all got something you like!

Ryoma: So what’d you get?

Ryoga: Me?

Ryoga: Ah… I actually got sleepy during the middle of it. So they let me take a nap in the main shrine. Kakaka!

Ryoma: I hope the gods smite you…

—

Ryoga: Yo, Ochi. What’d you buy?

Ochi: …I bought a nice, miniature pot for bonsai. I’m satisfied.

Ryoga: Classy…

Momoshiro: So what now?

Ryoga: Well… I’m thinking it’d be good to go grab a bite to eat and then head back…

Ryoma: Tennis.

Ryoga: Mm?

Ryoma: Let’s play tennis.

Ryoma: We’ll get out of shape if we just head back after this… right?

Ryoga: Heh, this guy…

Ryoga: Okay then. Instead of returning to the camp, we’ll return each other’s shots!

Momoshiro: Count me in! Are you joining in too?

Kaidoh: Heh… obviously.

Ryoga: Hoo boy, I won’t be able to handle all this by myself. Gimme a hand, Ochi.

Ochi: …Very well.

Ryoga: Alrighty, let’s head on over to the courts!

[Improvement Level 3 - Episode 1]

Ryoga: …Zzz… zzz…

Ryoga: Mm… Wha?

Ryoga: Is that… a saxophone?

~♪

Ryoga: Kanata Irie… So it was you…

Ryoga: I knew he sometimes practiced at night, but I guess he does it during the day, too.

~♪

Ryoga: He knows I’m here, right?

Ryoga: Well, either way, it’d be rude to bother him.

~♪

Ryoga: Heh, alright then.

Ryoga: Taking a nap under this blue sky with a saxophone playing in the background wouldn’t be too bad now and again.

Ryoga: It kinda reminds me of the US…

Ryoga: …

~♪

Ryoga: …Zzz… zzz…

Ryoga: …Zzz… zzz…

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Whoa!?

Ryoga: Wh-What the…!? It suddenly got louder…!?

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Hold up… is he doing that on purpose ‘cause he knows I’m trying to sleep?

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Nah… It looks like he hasn’t even acknowledged me.

Ryoga: Maybe he’s getting louder ‘cause he’s getting into the groove of it…

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Oh, brother… I give up…

Ryoga: I’m not gonna be able to take a decent nap with this racket…

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Maybe I should just let him know I’m here?

Ryoga: No, wait… I probably shouldn’t.

Ryoga: It’s not like I can just go up to him and be like “you’re interrupting my nap.”

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Looks like I’ll have to be patient then.

Ryoga: Okay, I guess I’ll stay awake for a while till he’s done practicing.

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Uh… So, when’s that gonna be…?

[Improvement Level 3 - Episode 2]

~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Oh my god… Seriously, when is it gonna end?

~♪♪♪ ~♪♪♪

Ryoga: It looks like Irie’s getting even more into it…

~♪♪♪ ~♪♪♪

Ryoga: Lord have mercy…

Ryoga: There’s other people that are gonna complain about this, right?

—

Zaizen: …Oh. So you’re here, Irie-san.

Irie: …Hm?

—

Ryoga: Hough… Finally, someone else came to stop him.

—

Irie: Zaizen-kun. Is there something you need from me?

Zaizen: Hold that thought, are you good if I take a couple pictures?

Irie: Huh?

Zaizen: Well, you were looking really cool just now.

Irie: R-Really? I’m a little embarrassed now that you’ve said that.

Irie: Uhm… What kind of pose should I do?

Zaizen: Oh, just play the sax like you normally would please.

Zaizen: How you look as is is meh, but you do look cool when you’re playing the sax.

Irie: …I see. Yeah, I suppose you’re right.

—

Ryoga: Um wow, that was pretty rude, wasn’t it? He should learn to say things a little nicer…

—

Irie: Well then…

~♪

Zaizen: Yeah, just like that.

~♪

Zaizen: I’m really digging this!

~♪♪♪ ~♪♪♪

—

Ryoga: And now it’s freaking loud.

—

Irie: Phew… How was that?

Zaizen: Great. I got some good pictures thanks to you.

Zaizen: Oh, you cool if I post them on my blog?

Irie: Yeah, I don’t mind at all.

Zaizen: Take a look at this one, there’s a shadow covering your face so I don’t need to censor it, plus it looks pretty cool.

Irie: …Right.

—

Ryoga: That’s pretty harsh…

—

Irie: A-Anyway… is there something you needed from me…?

Zaizen: Oh, yeah. Ootori was looking for you.

Irie: Ootori-kun? What for?

Zaizen: I’m texting him right now, so you can ask him about it.

Irie: All right.

—

Ryoga: Now someone else is coming?

Ryoga: Ugh, jeez… Well, there goes any chance of me getting a nap…

[Improvement Level 3 - Episode 3]

Choutarou: Great work today, Irie-san!

Irie: Hey, Ootori-kun.

Irie: So, you needed something from me, Ootori-kun?

Choutarou: Well actually… I’ve been wanting to discuss music with you for a while now, Irie-san.

Irie: Discuss music?

Choutarou: You play the saxophone don’t you, Irie-san?

Choutarou: I also play a little piano and violin…

Irie: Oh, is that so?

Choutarou: Well, they’re hobbies of mine actually…

Zaizen: Even though they’re hobbies, he’s still pretty good at them. Apparently he has perfect pitch.

Irie: That’s incredible.

Choutarou: I know you sometimes practice your saxophone at night, Irie-san.

Choutarou: Hearing you play late at night is amazing!

Zaizen: But one wrong note and then everyone kisses their good sleep goodbye.

Choutarou: Z-Zaizen!?

—

Ryoga: Well, he’s not wrong.

—

Choutarou: A-Anyway Irie-san, I would like to discuss—

Irie: Ootori-kun… Any chance you could hurry and get your violin?

Choutarou: Huh? Oh… Yes, I could, but…

Irie: Then why don’t you and I have a music session together?

Choutarou: Wha… A music session!?

Irie: The best way to have a conversation between musicians is to have a session, right?

Choutarou: Y-Yeah… I’ll go get it right away!

—

Ryoga: Wow… A saxophone and violin session, eh. This’ll be interesting.

—

Irie: Well then, shall we begin?

Choutarou: Y-Yes…!

Irie: One, two…

~♪♪♪ ~♪♪♪

—

Ryoga: Ooh, that’s nice!

—

Zaizen: This is really hype!

Irie: Not bad, Ootori-kun.

Choutarou: Thank you very much, Irie-san!

—

Ryoga: Heh, not catching any Z’s is fine if I get to listen to this, I suppose.

Ryoga: Guess I’ll enjoy the entertainment for a while.

—

Irie: Whew… I was completely immersed in it.

Choutarou: Ah… What time is it now…?

Ryoga: Yo, great job.

Choutarou: Huh…

Zaizen: Huh… Since when did you get here?

Ryoga: Since the very beginning.

Irie: Really? I didn’t notice you at all.

Ryoga: Oh, don’t give me that. You knew the whole time, didn’t you?

Ryoga: Being all loud, interrupting my nap and now you’re trying to lie about it.

Irie: Fufu, well, maybe so?

Irie: More importantly, what did you think of our performance?

Ryoga: It was pretty good, I’m actually fine that I wasn’t able to sleep.

Irie: I’m glad to hear it.

Choutarou: Thank you very much!

Ryoga: But you should probably stop doing it at night, y’know? People might start filing complaints for messing with their sleep. Kakaka!

[Improvement Level 4 - Episode 1]

Mitsuya: …Ryoga Echizen.

Mitsuya: Birthday: December 23rd, Capricorn. Height: 180cm. Weight: 67kg.

Mitsuya: Blood type: O. Vision is 1.4 in both eyes.

Mitsuya: Right-handed. Playing style is all-rounder. Special move: Destruction.

Mitsuya: Hobby is napping. Special skill is breakdancing.

Mitsuya: His stats are… unknown.

Mitsuya: How unfortunate… there’s still very little we know about him.

Mitsuya: While I do have his basic data down, I am unable to measure him based on that alone.

Mitsuya: It is clearly evident that he’s skilled. I would even say he’s one of the best out of the U-17 Japanese Representatives…

Mitsuya: However, the full picture of that man remains a mystery.

Mitsuya: First and foremost, he’s never even shown anyone how he practices.

Mitsuya: I was fortunate enough to be able to watch him practice today, but I do not believe those were his true capabilities.

—

Ryoga: Hah!

Ryoga: …Hm?

Ryoga: Guess that’s about it for today~. Alright, I’m gonna go find a place to take a nap.

Ryoga: Oh, it’s Chibisuke. Heyy, Chibisuke~!

—

Mitsuya: He wasn’t cutting any corners. But he also wasn’t giving it his all…

Mitsuya: That man is still hiding his true power. And the reason for that is unclear…

Mitsuya: How very interesting. He’s a man truly worth collecting data on.

Mitsuya: In any case, I must gather more data on him. Anything, no matter how trivial.

Mitsuya: That man… I must know more about this Ryoga Echizen.

Mitsuya: But, there are limits on what I’m able to do on my own… So in that case…

Mitsuya: I’ll go consult the others a bit as well. The more data I have, the better.

[Improvement Level 4 - Episode 2]

Mitsuya: …And that is why I specifically asked you three to come here.

Mitsuya: Ryoga Echizen… I would like each of you to share and exchange the data you have on that man.

Mitsuya: And of course, I’ll share my data as well.

Mitsuya: What do you think? I think it’d be a good idea.

Inui: I have no objections, Akuto-senpai.

Yanagi: I as well, Akuto-niisan.

Mizuki: Mmm… It is true that there’s a lack of data on him.

Mizuki: I will cooperate with you, Mitsuya-san.

Mitsuya: Thank you, everyone. I appreciate it.

Inui: That being said, I’m pretty sure the data we each have on him is mostly the same…

Yanagi: We still don’t have the full details on him. We’re essentially in the same boat as you, Akuto-niisan.

Mitsuya: Even the most trivial piece of info will suffice. It could even be something uncertain like a rumor. Right now I just need any data I can muster.

Mizuki: Mmm… Then, how about this piece of info?

Mizuki: Ryoga Echizen is quite fond of oranges…

Mizuki: Rumor has it that he’s traveled across the globe in search of the most delicious oranges.

Inui: Wha… Just for oranges!? Who in their right mind would do something like that…

Yanagi: Well… I believe it may be true, Sadaharu. I’ve heard rumors similar to that as well.

Yanagi: Depending on which country you visit, you may not be able to understand the language at all.

Yanagi: And rumor has it that during times like that, Ryoga Echizen would arrange dance battles and utilize his special skill: breakdancing.

Inui: D-Dance battles…!?

Yanagi: Supposedly he would win the battles and use them as a means to break the ice with others.

Inui: So you’re saying he communicated through dancing…?

Yanagi: It’s just a rumor, though.

Mitsuya: Excellent, Renji. Thank you for the info too, Mizuki. That’s exactly what I wanted.

Mitsuya: That drive to travel the world for your favorite food… and using a different means of communication to compensate for language barriers…

Mitsuya: Both are compelling pieces of data that align with his abilities.

Mitsuya: How about you, Inui? Is there anything you’ve heard about him?

Inui: W-Well, since you asked, I have heard something…

Inui: Supposedly, here at this training camp, Ryoga Echizen had borrowed a comb from Duke-senpai…

Inui: But, he has yet to return it…!

Mitsuya: That’s…

Inui: H-Huh…?

Yanagi: Sadaharu… That’s not what he meant.

Inui: Actually, I believe it shows a part of his personality and that he surprisingly has a lazy side to him…

Mitsuya: I’ll ask him to return it next time I see him…

Mitsuya: Is there anything else…

Mizuki: Mm… Come to think of it, I often see him rallying with Echizen-kun.

Mizuki: Ryoga Echizen’s behavior is unclear and somewhat elusive I’d say…

Mizuki: So if we were to follow Echizen-kun, it may make it easier to understand Ryoga Echizen’s behavior.

Mitsuya: I see, that’s a good idea!

Mitsuya: Fundamentally, the basis of data acquisition is observation, it’s just as you said. Let’s scope out Echizen, shall we?

—

Ryoga: Oh, please…

[Improvement Level 4 - Episode 3]

Ryoga: Hey hey, what’s wrong, Chibisuke!? Is that all you got?

Ryoma: …Right back at you, you’ve got a ways to go.

Ryoga: If you say so! Kakaka!

—

Mitsuya: Right on target, now we’re able to observe him through following Echizen.

Mitsuya: Echizen is one of the most talented amongst the middle schoolers…

Mitsuya: With him as an opponent, even he wouldn’t be able to keep his abilities concealed if he tried.

Inui: Ngh! Ryoga Echizen’s backhand just now had a different speed and angle compared to the previous data!

Inui: That backhand has not been recorded in my data…

Yanagi: And it appears that his Twist Serve is more powerful than before…

Yanagi: Has he been hiding it this whole time? Or perhaps… he has no choice but to be serious since his opponent is Echizen?

Mizuki: Mmm… And just now with his movement by the net, he moved forward at a different timing than before.

Mizuki: This is valuable data.

Mitsuya: Marvelous…

Mitsuya: With this data we’re receiving, little by little Ryoga Echizen’s true power will eventually be revealed!

Mitsuya: This is truly marvelous!

Mitsuya: More… Show me more, Ryoga Echizen!

Inui: Hmm!? What was that movement!?

Inui: It’s a unique movement I’ve never seen before…

Yanagi: There is a precise rhythm to it, however… almost like dancing…

Inui: Like he’s dancing… Dancing…?

Mizuki: Mm… Yes, akin to breakdancing even.

Mitsuya: Breakdancing…!?

Mitsuya: No, is he really… He’s incorporating breakdancing moves into his tennis…!?

Mizuki: No… It appears he’s simply playing around with them…

Inui: S-So in other words… he’s aware we’re watching him and he’s doing it intentionally…?

Yanagi: So this data we’ve collected is false…?

Mizuki: Mmm… I’m afraid so.

Mitsuya: He’s clever… You are something else, Ryoga Echizen.

—

Ryoga: Heh…

Ryoga: How naïve of them to think they can figure me out just by watching me.

Ryoga: If they wanted my data so bad they could’ve just came up to me and asked. Right, Chibisuke?

Ryoma: Hey, can you stop looking over there and get serious?

Ryoga: Wahaha, me looking over there is actually making it more fair for you.

Ryoma: Seriously…

Ryoga: If you ask me, they got a ways to go and so do you! Kakaka!

[Improvement Level 5 - Episode 1]

Kintarou: Gimme a bite of your meat, Koshimae!

Ryoma: Not so fast.

Kintarou: Oh c’mon, just one bite. Don’t be stingy.

Kintarou: I’ll give you my broccoli in return.

Ryoma: Why would I trade my meat for broccoli…

Ryoga: Wow, a full house.

Kintarou: It’s Koshimae’s big bro!

Ryoga: Chibisuke, can I sit here?

Ryoma: Go ahead.

Ryoga: Aw, what a bummer. I was gonna have orange jelly for dessert, but they were all out of it.

Ryoga: I’m a big fan of the orange jelly here since they put a lot of pulp in it, but…

Kintarou: Mm? Is this the orange jelly you’re talking about, Koshimae’s big bro?

Ryoga: Ah, yeah, it is! Wait, so you…

Kintarou: I took the last one.

Ryoga: So you did… Well, you grabbed it, so it’s yours.

Kintarou: Did you really wanna eat it that bad? In that case, you can have it big bro!

Ryoga: Huh? No, it’s yours…

Kintarou: It’s fine, I only grabbed it ‘cause I like the color orange.

Kintarou: But you like orange flavor, don’t you big bro? So you should eat it!

Ryoga: You’re… a good kid…

Ryoga: Okay, then let’s trade! I’ll give you my dessert for your jelly!

Kintarou: Whoa! But that’s that limited edition fruit platter!

Kintarou: You’ll really give that to me!?

Ryoga: Yeah, no sweat.

Ryoga: I’d much rather have the jelly since the platter doesn’t even have any oranges.

Kintarou: It’s a deal then! Thank you, Koshimae’s big bro! You’re a really nice guy!

Ryoma: How’d it come to this…?

Ryoga: Man, the orange jelly here really is the best!

Kintarou: And this fruit platter’s incredible! I can’t get enough of it!

Ryoma: Well… whatever…

[Improvement Level 5 - Episode 2]

Ryoga: Alrighty… Stuffed my face and now I think it’s time for a nap on the roof.

Jirou: Ah… hi there~.

Ryoga: Hi, were you gonna take a nap too?

Jirou: Welll… you said you were gonna go to the roof for a nap…

Jirou: But right now, a bunch of people who like dancing are up there… and they’re all dancing around…

Jirou: So it’s really noisy… It wouldn’t be the best place for a nap… *yawn*…

Ryoga: Ah, well that’s unfortunate.

Jirou: Nah, for realsies…

Jirou: I’m forced to wake up early every day at this training camp…

Jirou: So my naps are ne“C”essary.

Ryoga: R-Right…

Ryoga: I like napping too, but I can’t imagine being constantly tired while I’m awake…

Jirou: Well it’s break time, so that means it’s okay to relax and sleep… *yawn*…

Jirou: Anyway, I’m gonna go find another spot to nap in…

Jirou: I wouldn’t bother going to the rooftop during lunch if I were you…

Ryoga: Got it. Thanks for the heads up.

Jirou: No biggie… Welp, I’ll be on my way… *yawn*…

Ryoga: Mmm…

Ryoga: Maybe it’d be better for me to look for a different napping spot too…

Ryoga: …But once I heard the word “dance,” my body just automatically started tingling.

Ryoga: Sooo… I think I’ll skip the napping for today and go do some dancing.

[Improvement Level 5 - Episode 3]

Byoudouin: Perish…!

*boom!*

Ryoga: Heh… You’ve got a ways to go.

*boom!*

—

Ryoma: Wow…

—

Byoudouin: You bastard…! How far will you go to follow me!?

*boom!*

Ryoga: I’ll follow you wherever till you throw in the towel!

*boom!*

—

Oni: Oh great… I thought I heard some racket…

Ryoma: It’s cool, isn’t it.

Oni: What’s so cool about them hitting “Destruction” shots back and forth?

Oni: Just look. The court’s getting destroyed because of them.

—

Byoudouin: Hmph!

*boom!*

Ryoga: Hah!

*boom!*

—

Oni: Jesus… Have some sympathy for the people who’ll have to clean up this mess.

Ryoma: You don’t really have room to talk, though.

Oni: What’d you just say?

Ryoma: Nothing.

Oni: Echizen… do you want to be like them?

Ryoma: Of course.

Oni: Hmph…

Oni: Well, it would be too reckless for you right now.

Oni: But… I guess it’s only a matter of time before you’re among their ranks.

Ryoma: Alright, then I’m gonna join in tomorrow.

Oni: Tch… Well aren’t you cocky.

—

Ryoga: Orah!

*boom!*

Byoudouin: Kuh…!?

Ryoga: Heh… Told you, didn’t I?

Ryoga: There’s a ways to go.

Byoudouin: Bastard…!

Ryoga: Hm? Oh, it’s Chibisuke!

Ryoga: Whatcha doin’ over there? Cheering me on?

Ryoga: You’re probably bored just watching us, huh? Wanna join in?

—

Ryoma: Or I’ll join in now.

Oni: …

[Improvement Level 6 - Episode 1]

Ochi: …May we sit here?

Ryoga: Mm? Sure, go ahead.

Mouri: Alright, thank you.

Ryoga: So, what do you want from me?

Mouri: Huh? Well, Tsuki-san wanted to sit here…

Ryoga: There’s other seats open.

Ryoga: You specifically came over here ‘cause you want something from me, isn’t that right?

Ochi: …The Red vs. White competition.

Ryoga: Yeah… That was pretty interesting, wasn’t it.

Mouri: Oh, yeah? We did panic a little since someone from somewhere had targeted us.

Ryoga: Wow, really?

Mouri: I thought it was random at first, but those chestnuts were definitely aimed at us.

Mouri: Right, Tsuki-san?

Ochi: …

Ryoga: Well, that’s not good.

Ochi: …It was you, wasn’t it. Ryoga Echizen.

Ryoga: Huh, what makes you say that?

Ochi: Cut the clueless act.

Ochi: The weight of those shots… It’s obvious that no middle schooler could’ve hit them.

Ochi: Therefore, that ultimately means they were hit by a high schooler.

Ryoga: Huh, it’s kind of irrational to accuse me just because of that, isn’t it?

Ochi: I have another reason.

Mouri: And what reason would that be, Tsuki-san…?

Ochi: I saw him smirking after it happened.

Mouri: Smirking… Right, now that you mention it!

Ochi: You enjoyed seeing our reactions, didn’t you? Ryoga Echizen.

Ryoga: Kakaka! You got me.

Mouri: What… this isn’t something to laugh over…

Mouri: Why did you do that?

Ryoga: Oh come on, you didn’t hear them say we weren’t allowed to go for the black balloons, did you?

Ryoga: Plus, it’s more fun when something unexpected happens, isn’t it?

Mouri: Uh no, and it wasn’t fun or anything like that, we—

Ochi: …Yes, you’re right.

Mouri: Wha—you’re agreeing with him, Tsuki-san!?

Ochi: Those shots had created a sense of tension amongst the high schoolers.

Ochi: It had showed us that we needed to pay attention to each of the attacks, not just the middle schoolers and eagles.

Mouri: Well, yeah, sure…

Ochi: I thought it was good practice.

Mouri: If you say so, Tsuki-san…

Ryoga: Heh… Well, I’d like to do it with just the high schoolers someday.

Ochi: Yes… That would be a good opportunity.

Mouri: Well, that… would be a lot to handle…

[Improvement Level 6 - Episode 2]

Ryoga: Ugh, man… There’s no way I’m going outside with this rain.

Ryoga: Well, I guess walking around in the camp isn’t so bad.

Ryoga: Hm? That’s…

—

Tokugawa: Hah… hah…

Ryoga: …

Tokugawa: Hah… whewww…

Ryoga: …

Tokugawa: …

Tokugawa: Um…

Ryoga: Mm?

Tokugawa: What are you doing?

Ryoga: Watching.

Tokugawa: What are you watching?

Ryoga: You training.

Tokugawa: For what purpose?

Ryoga: Because I have time to.

Tokugawa: …Is that not strange?

Ryoga: Is it?

Tokugawa: If you have all this free time, then why don’t you train as well?

Ryoga: Because I don’t want to.

Ryoga: Besides, today’s an off day. And I don’t train on my off days.

Tokugawa: Then why are you here?

Ryoga: Because I was taking a walk and then saw you training.

Tokugawa: Are you toying with me?

Ryoga: Nope, just watching.

Tokugawa: …There’s other places you could go, are there not?

Ryoga: It’s raining outside. I don’t like rain.

Tokugawa: There’s other places indoors you could go, are there not?

Ryoga: Yeah, I guess.

Tokugawa: Then why don’t you go there?

Ryoga: Why do you want me to leave?

Tokugawa: You are toying with me, aren’t you?

Ryoga: What do you think?

Tokugawa: I’ll be blunt then. Leave.

Ryoga: Hey, hey, that really hurts. I’m actually a lot more delicate than I look, you know?

Tokugawa: If you were “delicate”, you wouldn’t have interrupted someone else’s training in that manner.

Ryoga: Wahaha, true.

Ryoga: Well, don’t worry about me, you can keep going.

Tokugawa: And I am telling you I’m unable to continue because you’re disrupting me…

Tokugawa: (Is this person really Echizen-kun’s older brother…)

Tokugawa: (I wonder what Echizen-kun thinks of him…?)

[Improvement Level 6 - Episode 3]

Ryoma: Hey.

Ryoga: Mm? Oh, you’re here Chibisuke?

Ryoma: You got free time? Then come practice with me.

Ryoga: Sorry, I’m busy right now.

Tokugawa: You told me you had time earlier, did you not?

Ryoga: Hey, don’t rat me out.

Tokugawa: I didn’t need to.

Ryoga: Oh, come on… You know I don’t train on my days off…

Ryoma: It’s not a problem if it’s training with me, right? You can just keep me company.

Ryoga: Hm… Well, that’s one way to go about it.

Ryoga: Oh alright, your kind older brother will help you out!

Tokugawa: Good grief… finally peace and quiet…

—

Ryoga: Hey, Chibisuke.

Ryoma: What?

Ryoga: What were you up to today?

Ryoma: Something better than dealing with you.

Ryoga: Oh? You weren’t bothering anyone, were you?

Ryoma: You talking about yourself?

Ryoga: Wahaha, did you see how annoyed Tokugawa looked?

Ryoma: So you knew what you were doing.

Ryoga: Well, the dude’s just a little too serious.

Ryoga: I think people like him need to ease up a little so they don’t self-destruct.

Ryoma: Why don’t you just tell him that then…!

Ryoga: ‘Cause it’s not my place to be telling him that~

Ryoga: Oop, there’s an opening!

Ryoma: …Ngh!!

Ryoma: …!!

Ryoma: Tch…

Ryoga: Heh… You’ve got a ways to go.

—

Ryoga: Alright, it should be stopping by now.

Ryoga: Mm? What’s this… the rain passed before I even realized.

Ryoma: Would seem so.

Ryoga: Huh… I can’t believe I…

Ryoga: (I was so absorbed in playing with Chibisuke that I didn’t even notice the rain had stopped…)

Ryoga: (I haven’t had this happen since I was a kid…)

Ryoga: …

Ryoma: Hey… What’s wrong?

Ryoma: Should I bail since you’re gonna keep spacing out?

Ryoga: You little…

Ryoga: You and that smart mouth of yours, that does it~!

Ryoma: Wh… What the…!?

Ryoga: Wahahaha! You’re my baby bro, but you sure are cocky!

Ryoma: Th… That huwwts, big bw—

Ryoga: Huh? What was that?

Ryoma: !! …I didn’t say anything.

Ryoga: Heh, yeah, sure you didn’t.

Ryoga: (I hate the rain, but… if I can have fun during it, maybe it’s not so bad once in a while.)

So, about that last part where Ryoga didn’t realize the rain had stopped and him saying he hadn’t experienced that since he was a child. There are some things to take from it:

It could possibly be in reference to him being able to spend time with Ryoma without being concerned over any outside factors. He was able to spend as much time with Ryoma as he wanted when they were children, but after he was taken and they eventually reunited at the camp, he has not been able to spend proper time with him or they get interrupted.

Rain is a very popular metaphor for sadness/bad memories (rain rhymes with pain). So in this context, it may symbolize that he was able to forget about his sadness from being able to spend time with Ryoma. Which he hasn’t been able to experience since he was a child due to them being separated.

Him saying he hates rain but is okay if he can have fun (with Ryoma). Again, this ties back to the rain metaphor, and it likely symbolizes he’s okay with experiencing sadness/bad memories as long as he can still make good memories and/or be with his brother.

Also does anyone else feel that Ryoga likes dancing more than tennis? Because that’s also what I got from this.

[theroseceleste]

Pilot Miguel - Part 5 - Feral

You're back home in Nueva York. You have plenty of catching up to do with your roommate. And perhaps you'll have an interesting text conversation with your favourite pilot...

Word Count - 3123

Minors DNI

Contains : Smut (phone sex - masturbation)

Enjoy! xx

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

If you enjoy this fic, please consider liking, commenting or re-blogging. Many thanks xx

Keys jangle as you pull them out of your pocket and begin to unlock your apartment door. It creaks open as you hear your roommate pottering about in your shared kitchen. Most of your apartment is open plan. The lounge area to the left, kitchen and dining room to the right. At the furthest end of the lounge area are two doors leading to your room and then your roommate’s.

“Oh! You’re back! Welcome home (Y/N),” your roommate, Ashley, calls out as she cooks dinner.

“Hi,” you sigh as you dump everything by the front door and flop down on the sofa.

It has been a tiring day. You contemplate going straight to bed once you’ve said a proper hello to your roommate and best buddy.

Ashley eventually finishes cooking and serves dinner. She places your plate on the coffee table next to the couch.

“So, how was Mexico?” she asks before taking a mouthful.

“A-ma-zing…” you reply dreamily, your eyes half closed.

“Oh? What was so good about the trip?”

“Oh, Ashley… I’ve met someone…”

Your heart thuds just thinking about him. And now you’re admitting your feelings to your friend and yourself for the first time, you feel excited about what this all means.

Your friend’s eyes widen at your surprise announcement. She had expected you to say something good about the place you went to.

“From Mexico?!”

Ashley is in shock. She never had you down for a long distance relationship kind of person.

“Yes - well, no - kind of?”

“Girl, do they, or do they not live in Mexico?”

“He doesn’t, but he’s half-Mexican. And my God, Ashley, you’d be feeling the same as me if you saw him.”

“Where does he live then?”

You shrug, you never actually asked. You presume in Nueva York or somewhere in the surrounding areas.

“What does he do?”

“He’s a pilot. New to AracnAir.”

“Did you two… you know…?”

You shake your head as you continue to lay flaked out on the sofa.

“Got any pics of him?”

Your eyes snap open as you think about that video. You can’t possibly show her it. Can you? No… you wouldn’t. But, what you do decide to do however, is play the video back with it muted and pause it when the camera is aimed at his face.

Ashley whistles after swallowing another mouthful of her food. You are right, he is gorgeous and she can see why you’re mad about him.

“What’s he doing in the video?” she tilts her head with curiosity.

You pull the phone back to your chest as you sit up properly, protecting it from her prying eyes.

“We might not have done anything… but he kind of did out of desperation and sent me the…” you pause as you try to find a way of saying it. “Evidence?”

“Show. Me.” Her eyes widen with need.

She wants to see what she’s missing out on if you two do get together. She wants to see just how lucky you are.

“No, I can’t, Ash… if you had a boyfriend and he had a video of you, would you like him showing it to his friends?”

You suddenly feel very protective over Miguel. That man has got you good.

Ashley’s expression falls, you have a valid point and she feels bad for suggesting it. With curiosity still running at an all time high, she tries a different method of finding out.

“Roughly, how big is he?”

“You mean his height or…”

She clearly means the size of his manhood, but your question makes her wonder if there’s something else special about him.

“Both,” she answers, both of your meals now totally forgotten about.

“I don’t know the exact measurements of either but…” you look around the room to see if you can compare his height to something.

“He’ll be just taller than our doors.”

“Over two metres tall?” she exclaims.

“That’s, what…” she stops as she works out the conversion, “nearly seven feet!”

“Holy shit, girl… and what about the… his… um…”

You hold your phone close to yourself and watch the video back, even though you’ve seen it enough times to memorise every frame. Pausing it at the crucial moment, you take a look and then lock your phone. Holding both of your index fingers apart from each other, you guess a rough idea of ten inches.

Ashley looks as though she could faint out of shock and jealousy, not in a bad sense of envy - she just thinks you’re a lucky girl. But she hopes he treats you right. Doesn’t matter how pretty he is, she’d hunt him down and whoop his sorry ass if he ever hurts you.

“When are you seeing him again?”

You sigh longingly. That’s just it, you don’t know.

“I will have to check the rota.”

“And what’s his name?”

You can say his name as much as you like here and he wouldn’t be any the wiser. A smile grows across your lips.

“Miguel…”

It sounds good coming from your lips. You imagine him losing his mind over hearing you whisper, cry out or scream his name.

Ashley moans. He sounds hot and looks hot. She fully supports your attraction to him and hopes you can make it official with him one day.

“I think this goes without saying, but, be careful. He sounds stunning, and if he’s a nice guy, then he’s perfect. But… you have only just met him.”

You appreciate your friend’s concern. She’s doing her duty of looking out for you. Being the little voice of reason when you’re close to losing yourself to desire and need.

“I know, I have been careful. He’s been going through a rough time recently.”

Ashley’s eyebrow raises.

“Has he now?” she asks in a disbelieving manner, expecting it to be some kind of sob story to make you feel sorry for him.

“He’s just recently got divorced.”

Alarm bells ring in Ashley’s head.

“Oh, do you know why?”

You give a nod but you don’t exactly want to go through explaining it to her yet. You’re tired and want to sleep soon.

“The marriage just broke down because of his work hours…” you answer in a slightly dismissive manner.

Ashley can see that you’re tired. She knows you have a reasonable and sensible head screwed on most of the time.

“Alright, eat up and we can talk more about Miguel tomorrow.” She emphasises his name like a parent who teases their teenager over their school crush.

“Thanks for dinner Ash…” you mumble and pick up the plate to start eating.

After finishing dinner, you slowly rise from your couch and drag your case into your plush and comfortable room. That’s one thing you can look forward to when coming home, even from paradise itself, your own bed. The only thing that would make it even more inviting, is seeing Miguel lying there, waiting for you.

Miguel’s thoughts were on you whenever he had time to think for himself during his flight. Of course, his job comes first when he’s actually working, but during some moments as the plane flies on autopilot his mind finds its way to you.

He’s now home, in his penthouse apartment, surrounded by boxes… His ex-wife’s boxes… The dream-like memories of Acapulco slipping away quickly as reality sets in.

His ex-wife should have been gone yesterday. He follows the sound of another box being taped up in the spare bedroom.

Leaning against the doorframe and folding his arms, he watches her put the packaging tape dispenser down.

“I know… I shouldn’t be here. Turns out I had more stuff than I realised.”

She rests her hands on her hips, looking her ex-husband up and down still wearing his pilot uniform. She used to love him wearing it, but now, she feels nothing.

“How was work?”

“As if you care, Xina,” Miguel snaps impatiently.

He hoped that he’d be alone when he came home, alone to begin his new life. But she’s still here and he’s pissed.

“When’s the removal van coming?”

His ex sighs as she looks at her watch.

“In an hour? Maybe?”

“Good. I’ll be in my room, staying out of the way.”

He turns and leaves the spare room, weaving in and out of boxes until he reaches his luxury bedroom. More of her damned boxes are in there too. He kicks them out, sliding along his wooden floor before shutting himself in his room.

His flight back was fine - would have been better if you were there - but he survived. His co-pilot was a woman named Lyla. She’s smart, but also has a smart mouth. It seems she enjoys teasing him, winding him up, a bit like how you do it. But, despite his protests, he actually likes it when you tease him. In truth, he likes anything you do, even if he doesn’t say it to your face.

Removing his uniform, he tosses it in the laundry pile and then sinks down onto his bed with a tired sigh. He wonders if you’re home yet and if you’re tired just like he is.

Fingers itch intensely to grab his phone and message you but he doesn’t want to bombard you as you step through your door or settle down. Or maybe you are hoping to hear from him?

You get into bed, the mattress feels just right for your tired and weary body. For a while now, you have considered getting a pedometer to see how many steps you do when you work, just out of interest and perhaps bragging rights over your friends who have desk jobs.

Once again, you’re watching that video and listening to those voice notes. You’ll never be sick of them, and every word, every syllable sends a series of pulses emanating from your increasingly needy core. You have often wondered what ten inches, his ten inches, would feel like inside of you. You have never experienced a man his size before, none of your toys will compare either. He will truly be spoiling you, with every thrust, every pump and grind.

Teeth bite down on your bottom lip as you suppress a needy moan just thinking about how he’ll feel and how he’ll sound.

Suddenly your phone buzzes and his name pops up with an incoming message. Your heart leaps out of your mouth. Tapping the notification immediately, you open up the message to read it.

“Hola, chiquita.” (Hello, little one)

You make a mental note to learn a few phrases in Spanish, but this isn’t too hard to understand.

With a blushing expression you reply, tapping away on your phone’s screen.

“Hola, Miguel xx”

He smiles when your response appears on his end. The only time you’ve called him by his name is through text, you’re being a tease and he sure as hell knows it. If only you knew the things he’s been planning for when things heat up. He simply cannot wait to see you again.

“How was your flight?” he types back to you in hope to keep you talking.

The phone buzzes in your hand once again, you smile, despite how tired you’re feeling. To hell with sleep. The man of your dreams wants to talk to you, and you’ll do it all night if necessary.

“It was alright, slow, but good.”

The speech bubble appears with the three dots. He’s replying again. You have forgotten what this excitement feels like when talking with a crush or whatever you consider Miguel to be. It’s very much like being a teenager again, those butterflies in your stomach when the cute boy looks your way. However, this cute boy, you know for sure likes you which only excites those butterflies further.

“Bet your flight would have been more than good if I was flying it…”

Your whole body squirms as you read his reply. What is he suggesting? He can’t possibly be… no… could he? Or are you reading too much into this? Maybe he is suggesting that his presence alone would have improved your trip today. Yeah, maybe that’s it…

Thumbs tap away again as you type your reply.

“Watch your head next time you step onto a plane…”

A wicked grin flashes across your face, you can’t resist winding him up. But once again, he wipes that smile off of your face as he swoops in to try and get the last laugh. Your phone buzzes in a constant rhythm as a capital MO shows up on your screen. He’s actually calling you. You click on the green button but you’re practically speechless with nerves.

“Are you suggesting I have a big ego chiquita?”

There’s that slight danger in his voice, the same danger you detected after you spanked his ass with the paddle yesterday. Your curiosity is piqued, you want to know what happens if you push his buttons.

Finally you find your voice.

“Maybe I am, Mig-”

“Don’t!”

You grin. The battle for the last laugh has begun.

“Why not? Why don’t you want me to call you Mi-”

“Stop!”

“Tell me why then?”

You hear Miguel take a deep shaky breath.

“Because I’m not near you.”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I will not be able to control myself when my name leaves your lips. I will go feral, and if you do that to me now, then you are cruel, chiquita.”

His words hit you hard. Firstly, ‘feral’… you swear a wave of arousal is threatening to make its presence known between your legs. His ten inches flash up in your mind and you nearly moan. Then the word ‘cruel’ leaves his lips and you immediately want to hold him close. You’re not entirely sure, though, if he is deliberately acting that way to get what he wants, or to sway you in any way.

“Feral?” you ask, although you have a feeling that is a dangerous question.

He moans into the phone’s microphone, making your eyelids flutter, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, your shoulders tense and a shiver runs down your spine, feeding those pulses within you.

“Chica, I’ll want to ruin your perfect hair you have done up for work, ruin your immaculate makeup, leave bite marks all over you. I’ll have you repeating my name, like it’s a prayer on those pretty lips which I’ll bite and suck as I invade your body with my fingers, or my large fucking cock, throbbing only for you.”

His voice is a low, dangerous growl and his proclamation renders you speechless and exceedingly wet.

“Oh God…” you finally splutter out after your throat goes incredibly dry momentarily.

“Sí, ay Dios… you might be needing him after, chiquita…”

The line goes silent, but remains open. He lets his words sink in for you, giving you a moment to recover.

“Are you going to hold back saying my name now until we see each other?” he asks.

Although you can’t see him, you can hear his smug expression on his face. He has won the last laugh again.

“Just make sure you don’t say it while I’m working…”

You swallow hard as your hand slowly makes its way down your front and sneaks under the waistband of your shorts. He hears your breath falter.

“Are you doing what I think you’re doing, chiquita?”

How the fuck does he know? You ask yourself.

“Mhmm…” Is all you can respond with as your fingers begin to circle around your clit, collecting your arousal as you go.

“Naughty…” he replies as you hear rummaging at his end of the line.

“Just following your example…” you mumble, referencing his messages and video.

“I haven’t stopped listening and watching those things you sent me, O’Hara…” you finally confess.

He chuckles before he moans, the jangling of his watch starts up in the background.

“Baby… if only I knew that you liked it from the beginning, I wouldn’t have needed to get all embarrassed…” he pauses as he takes a breath.

“Play with yourself faster chiquita, I want to hear you moan for me. But remember, don’t say my name.”

You do as he says, your fingers going in faster, tighter circles, producing a sweet little moan for his ears only.

“Mhmm… fuck, baby… louder…”

His voice breaks as you hear him put in more effort for his own actions, the strap of his watch clinking with each vigorous stroke.

You bite your lip as you worry about Ashley hearing you.

“Chiquita, louder…” he demands, his voice turning dangerous again.

You let go and do as he tells you, moaning louder for him.

“Good girl - are you close, baby?”

“Yes…”

“Go faster, I want to hear you cum for me, por favor…”

A louder moan rips from your throat as you edge nearer. He knows exactly what to say to you, and you’d bet money he’ll know exactly what buttons to press to make sure you’re a crying, dripping, creamy mess.

“Sí, sí, that’s it chica, give me what I want…”

His voice breaks as he’s getting close to blowing his load all over his toned abs. The burning in his right arm makes itself known.

You arch your back and your thighs clamp together around your hand, trapping it against your wildly throbbing sensitive bud. You cum hard for him, putting on a sexy audible display for him to get off to. Your moans are an exquisite representation as to how you’re feeling and he loves hearing every second of it. How he wishes he thought of recording the call so he can hear it over and over and over whenever he damn well pleases.

“Fuck! Baby - ay Dios!”

He grunts loudly and you finally hear him reach his orgasm. It sounds strong and powerful, each grunt resembling a wave of pleasure coursing through his body.

Your heavy breaths mix with his lust fuelled groans. The things you would do to have him there with you, making you come undone himself, going ‘feral’ on you.

“Mhmmm… chiquita, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. You uhh… made a mess, mi bonita.”

His comment makes you laugh, your sweet giggle fills the room.

“Talk tomorrow?” he asks, as he knows you’re probably just as tired as he is.

“I’d love to.”

“Sleep well, chiquita. Buenas noches,” (Good night / evening)

“Buenas noches…”

The call disconnects and Miguel puts his phone down next to him on the bed. Little does he know that his ex-wife, Xina, had her ear pressed up against his door listening to everything he said. Soon after she hears him hang up, she leaves the penthouse, taking her last box with her.

I hope you enjoyed Part 5!

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