#should not... have to put in so much effort just to play a game

[winxfairyliveshere]

Ruben Dias x Wife Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Hi! I really got so happy that you guys liked the part 1. I hope you will like this too.English is not my mother language so please excuse me for mistakes. Feedbacks are welcomed, enjoy <3

You climbed the stairs making too much effort. Your first pregnancy was not like this hard. But this time, it's complicated. After you climbed half of the stairs you stopped and took a few big breathes. Ruben was in the downstairs making noises you had no idea where they are coming from. You thought he was picking up his shoes. After you climbed the whole stairs you said to yourself, yes!, because it was really hard.

You waddled to your son's room, door was open. There were teeth brushing noises coming from his bathroom. You watched him while he is brushing. Oh, in your eyes he is the biggest man in the world. He can talk, he can sleep alone and he doesn't like it when you bath him! He is not the baby in the bassinet crying for you, looking for your skin anymore.

But while you are thinking all of this you thought you need to step up because he was being too harsh with his teeth. "Oh, oh buddy calm down, calm down." You took his hand and guided him. "You need to be gentle, remember? We have talked about this before, like this."

Brushing was over, you helped him get off the chair. He ran to the books and started to yell "I want Portuguese, Portuguese!" while bouncing. You started to collecting Portuguese books for him and said "Which one do you want?". He pulled one of the books from your hand and started waving in the air. You walked to the bed with him, he got in first.

"Come on mommy be fast"

"I am coming Teo, look i am huge."

"You are not huge mom you are pregnant." said while giving you a dead ass look.

Did he really pick this book? Really? He had dozens of books but he picked this one? Like he is doing this on purpose. Eu Amo Meu Papai (I love my dad).

Ruben's POV

Ruben scrathed his scalp while she was climbing the stairs. Wanted to help her like he always does, but he thought this time she will shove him. So he continued to clean his shoes but no. He just can't do it. He threw the cloth in his hand, it made cleaners fell. Collected all the shoes and put them in their bags.

"You are not in the football world." said to her. He thought, am i wrong though? Maybe he was, maybe he was not. He couldn't decide. He said in his head "She still sees me like the day we first met; strong and solid. But she is forgetting one thing: my age." That's why he said those sentences. And the word she said about "not seeing her as a soulmate?" Crap. "I was not under of a another man." Total bullshit. She can't.

The best thing he can do right now is fall into coma without dying: sleeping. So he went upstairs, his family's voices became more distinct as he walked towards his room.

"Did you like it?"

"Yes, mãe. Your Portuguese is getting better also." He giggled at Teo's words.

"What! My Portuguese is always nice. Look at yours."

"Papai talks better."

"Of course he talks better, he is Portuguese." Something in Ruben's heart always melted when he acknowledge his identity: talking Portuguese, watching Portuguese cartoons or wanting to wear Portugal jersey.

Reader's POV

You ruffled his hair while saying "Of course he talks better, he is Portuguese." This boy always surprises you with his words.

"Teo, i am sorry for what happened. I should not yell." You played with his ears and said "Sorry ears"

"Maybe you should say sorry to papai's ears too." You looked at him. Gosh, he is literally Ruben's twin. You literally gave birth to another Ruben.

"Should i?"

"Can we go -yawns- to the papai's game?" You understood the signals he is giving and started to caress his head and hair. That's the trick for falling asleep. Right that time, door opened and you saw your husband. Ruben slowly entered the room, he was very careful not to make any noise. You made eye contact for a moment but quickly looked away from his eyes. He stretched his long and muscular arm towards your son's head and caressed his cheek. He slowly brought his head closer to Teo's face and left a small kiss on his other cheek. At that moment you smelled him, his presence almost crushed you. His neck was literally displaying itself right in front of your eyes. But remember, you guys had a fight. Fight.

You slowly removed your arm from under Teo's head. You need a help for getting up and here he is. Ruben stretched out his hands to you, you grabbed them. If you were not angry with him, you would have kissed his hands. You stood up with his help, didn't say a word. You tucked Teo in bed, Ruben was walking in front of you. You adjusted the intensity of night lamp and walked out of the room. When you closed the room, you felt his existence behind you. You didn't turn to him. When you realize he is gone, you walked to your room. Ruben was folding his t-shirt, already in night clothes. He doesn't like waking up to the pile of clothes all messy. You entered bathroom, took the toothbrush in one hand and the toothpaste in the other. Thanks to the big bathroom mirror, you could see Ruben. After brushing you applied your lip and face moisturizer and hopped to the another care routine which is Ruben found "unnecessary". Brushing hair! Well Ruben does not find brushing hair unnecessary, he founds brushing hair for 10 mins unnecessary. You deal with hair loss due to pregnancy, whatever you try does not help. So you find yourself brushing your hair for at least 10 mins. Maybe it makes worse, but when you do not brush it, there is always a big pile of hair on your pillow which makes you sad.

Ruben was laying on his back. Eyes fully open. Right to the ceiling. He opened duvet for you and you saw your pregnancy pillow placed like you always did. Was he saying sorry through his acts?

You sat on the bed, leaning your back against the headboard. Looked at him, still glued his eyes to the ceiling.

"Did your ears get hurt too?" you asked. He turned his head towards you. "What?" he said with a little smile.

"I asked a very clear question." After your response, he stopped lying on the bed and sat instead of it.

"Y/n, look at me." he cupped your face. His hands, you loved his hands. Always made you so safe: holding them, his hand on your thigh while driving, wandering around your body, his long fingers around your neck. Best necklace in the world.

Altough you think like that, you looked at him with a attidute and said, "I do not think i said something wrong. I am right about what i said."

"Yes i know but you need to listen to me also. I am so happy and blessed to have you in my life. I know no matter what happens, you are my number one supporter, you will stand with me. I am so happy for our family." caressed your belly, "So much i can not put into words. I said those words because football is changing, i am changing Y/n. Last game, i fucked up. Fucked up everything. Like it was not me playing. Then when i was in the changing room, sitting while i am disgusting with my performance, i saw them." You looked at him with interested eyes. "I saw my opponets. Yes opponets. They are my teammates but that was the first time i saw them as a opponent. With their young and stable bodies, they came and sat in front of me. I saw myself in them, when i was in Benfica, i always waited for some one to drop so i can get in the game. Y/n i am getting old."

"You are not getting old! You are just 32."

"That means i am getting old minha vida (my life). " said while caressing your arm.

"Nowadays footballers play until they are 40. You are no where close to 40 Ruben."

"I know but that does not relax me. There are people coming behind me and waiting for me not to play. One game, just one game me playing bad, that's it. That's their chance to shine. And i do not want others shine. Not yet."

You felt insane discomfort in your body. His words were like rain, storm. You could not do anything but stand.

"I really appreciate your support and trust towards me and i am sorry for what i said. You are my everything, my world. Like you are Earth and i am Moon, hovering around you. I am so sorry Y/n, i just feel so much pressure. I should not acted like that with you. And while Teo was there."

All your guard is down right now. You hugged him, felt sorry for him. Left a few pecks around his neck and shoulder. He looked at you with smiling eyes firstly but they changed so quick like he remembered something. He distanced himself.

"What? Am i smelling? I took a shower this morning." You started to sniff yourself.

"No no you are not. I just remembered something. Forbidden words, you said them." You did not understand his point.

"You talked about another man remember?"

You burst out laughing.

"No, stop laughing stop it." He tried to close your mouth but no, you did not stop laughing. You pulled the duvet over yourself, he spooned you with his body.

"As i said before, i am right about my words, i said facts. I was under you not any other man."

"I know amor i know. You are only mine."

Tags: @carmilladias @caraclocekfjrv @hockey-racing-fubol @mahivah @ciaraovnot and who sent me a message anonymous 💞

I think i need to find title for this one :)

[730architect]

picture your face - L4B (1.2)

part 1

part 2 yay!! i started writing parts of this all the way back in february and finally got around to fixing it up into a completed work. This takes place the night of the october 11, 2024 episode of smackdown for context :) this will be the final part of picture your face but i will def write more l4b because i miss them dearly </3 enjoy my sweets 

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wc: 7.8k

tags: liv4brutality, hatred, conflicted feelings, past liv morgan/rhea ripley, angst, cunnilingus, face sitting, light dom/sub, strap-on sex, dirty talk, it's sweet at the end

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It had been exactly one week since Rhea had been laid out on her hotel bed, scrolling on her phone mindlessly when she got a notification alerting her that “yaonlylivvonce and 82,385 others liked your photo.” Rhea blinked hard, rubbing any sleep from her eyes that had collected from the long day she’d had. She couldn’t register what she was feeling. Disbelief would be an understatement, but so would confusion. Was this another one of Liv’s pranks that she had pulled with the encouragement of the rest of the Judgment Day?

Well.. if she wants to play games, let's play. Rhea thought to herself as she opened up her contacts. She scrolled until she found the one she was looking for and pressed “message”. Rhea pondered her options. What should she send? Eventually she decided on something simple. A smirk formed on her face as she finished typing out her message.

 “I guess you really were watching me.” Perfect. 

Rhea hits send and turns her phone off for the night, images of another plan brewing in the back of her mind before her body finally allows sleep to overtake it. 

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Rhea stormed from the ring back to the backstage area after finally getting her hands on Liv and her pathetic posse of sorts with several referees following after her, ensuring that she would leave the premise. Fading fan chants and the enraged yells from the referees fell on deaf ears as she navigated the maze that was the Bon Secours Wellness Arena to where she had hastily parked her rental car. Her body was hot from the adrenaline but her attack wasn't enough to satisfy her ever-increasing lust for revenge. She wasn’t sure what she wanted more, her title or to make Liv suffer under her hand. 

Rhea knew better than anyone that the odds were stacked against her, especially now that Raquel has aligned herself with the one woman she hates the most in this lifetime. She needed to think smarter. All this hostility and aggressiveness hadn’t done her much good and her patience was running thin. She may have Liv beaten physically, but psychologically? That was a whole different playing field. 

She ponders her options to herself as she makes her way to the parking lot after narrowly escaping a scolding from Nick Aldis for her invasion of his show. She gets into her rental car and lays her head back onto the headrest, drumming her fingers on her thigh while taking a couple deep breaths to calm down before she drives back to her hotel. 

She eventually buckles up and goes to put the car into drive but stops abruptly when she sees the top of a familiar blonde head hurrying from between the cars in the parking lot just a few rows in front of her, followed by two taller brunettes. 

Rhea watches as Liv and Dominik are ushered into a large black SUV by the latest addition to their group, Raquel, who has been serving as a bodyguard and now apparently a chauffeur of sorts to Liv since her interference during Rhea’s match at Bad Blood. Rhea’s heart rate increases, blood rushing in her ears. She can feel herself growing more belligerent at their fright. 

She observes as Raquel climbs into the driver's seat and reverses out of the parking spot. Rhea ducks her head a bit in an effort to remain hidden from them as she debates on whether or not she should follow them to wherever it is they’re staying, thankful for the tint on her windows. She debates for a solid 15 seconds until finally putting her car in drive and peeling out behind them, making sure to keep a healthy distance in order to not blow her cover. 

Rhea discreetly followed the trio all the way back to their hotel and watches as they give up their car to the valet service as quickly as they can before they rush inside. She decides to call it a night, not in any mood to hunt them down all the way to their hotel rooms, at least not at the moment. She circles back and merges back onto the highway leading to her hotel, mind still racing. She spends the rest of the drive lost in her thoughts, in a trance over all the ways she can make Liv pay for all she’s put her through over the past 7 months. 

Rhea wanted her to suffer. She wanted to make Liv feel the same hurt and betrayal she felt while she was sitting at home, icing her shoulder for hours on end until her skin was blue and numb to the touch. The thought of Liv on her knees, begging for mercy as she looks up at her, blue eyes glassy with tears and terror has Rhea shifting in her seat; searching for at least a little bit of friction to relieve the familiar ache she felt in her gut whenever she thought about her. Rhea pulls up to the front of her hotel sloppily, tossing the keys to the attendant hurriedly before rushing inside. 

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Rhea makes it to her hotel suite, deadbolting the door behind her before making a beeline for the bathroom. She tears her clothes off of her body hastily and jumps into the shower, letting the cold water run through her hair and down her back as she takes some much needed deep breaths. Rhea runs her tattooed fingers through her hair, trying to focus on the chill of the water on her skin, or anything else really. Anything to get her mind off of the women’s world champion. But despite being doused in cold water, it does nothing to cool the heat building in her core that she's been fighting since she left the arena. 

She runs her right hand down her body, her left still running through her dark hair. Tattooed fingers dancing lightly over flushed skin, feeling the groves of the goosebumps that formed beneath them. Her fingers make their way to her breast as she thumbs over her nipple piercing, feeling the sensation shoot straight to her aching cunt. Low whimpers spill from her lips as she lightly pinches and twists at the piercing, the sensation making her delirious. 

Rhea allows her head to fall back against the glass walls of the shower while her fingers trickle down her figure, allowing them to ghost over her most sensitive parts. Visions of Liv dance behind her eyelids as she slips a finger inside of herself, moaning quietly at the intrusion. Rhea shifts her hips forward slightly, jaw going slack at the feeling of her fingers curling up inside of her due to the adjustment. 

Rhea cries out Liv’s name. She imagines Liv seeing her like this, getting off at the mere thought of her. How she would drop to her knees just before Rhea could reach her climax to finish her off. Rhea lets out one last pathetic whimper as she gushes around her fingers, heart hammering in her chest while she rides out her orgasm. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s pictured Liv while touching herself and she was positive it wouldn’t be the last. Rhea finally pulls her spent fingers out of her cunt and brings them up to her lips, sucking them clean. She sighs contentedly around them as she sinks back against the glass propping her up. 

Once her heart rate had returned to normal, Rhea reached for the soap and finally began to wash her body, getting lost in the scent of tea tree and steam. She washes her hair and turns the shower off when she finishes, stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry herself off with. She hums to herself as she dries off and pumps lotion into her hands to massage into her skin. 

She had changed into sweatpants and an old band tee she wore religiously back in Australia. The fabric was soft and worn from years of use and had a bleach stain on the collar. Rhea was drying her hair with the complementary hair dryer the hotel provided when she heard a pounding on the door. She turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it, storing it away before going to answer the door. She assumed that it was just housekeeping making their rounds and asking if she wanted any clean towels. 

Rhea turned on a lamp to provide some more lighting before swinging the door open. She hadn’t checked through the peephole of who it might be, face going blank when she sees a blonde at her door. It was Liv.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rhea demands, glancing around in case Dominik or Raquel had been hiding around somewhere ready to attack. 

Liv rolled her eyes at the hostility. She knew Rhea would be borderline impossible to talk to, she had spent at least half of their former partnership trying to get her to just make small talk with her until they had finally warmed up to each other. A whole lot of good that did her. “I’m just here to talk.” Liv replies calmly.

“‘Talk’ my ass. Do you think I’m stupid?” Rhea scoffs, still wary of a potential attack. “Why are you here? How did you even find where I was staying?”

“I asked around. Not like it was all that hard. Now are you gonna invite me in so we can talk or are you going to force me to stand out here like an idiot?” Liv retorts.

Rhea narrows her eyes at her. “How do I know that this isn’t an ambush?” 

“Rhea, if I wanted to attack you I would’ve done it already. Now suck it up and let me in.” Liv snaps, fed up with their banter. 

Rhea takes one final look around and sighs, stepping aside and granting Liv entry into her hotel. “Don’t mind the mess, I just finished showering.” Rhea comments, suddenly confused as to why she was asking her rival to disregard her mess. This was her hotel, she could do whatever she wanted. And she definitely didn’t owe Liv of all people an explanation. 

Liv disregards her statement, looking around and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, facing Rhea. She’s dressed in a sweatshirt, shorts, and tennis shoes. All neutral colors. It seems that joining the Judgment Day had stripped her of her usual fun and flirty color palette. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back and her tortoise Prada frames were perched on the bridge of her nose. She watches as Rhea shuts the door behind her, locking them both inside. 

The silence is deafening. It’s been over 2 years since they’ve been in the same room as one another without ripping each other’s throats out. Rhea stands in front of Liv, looking down at her with her arms crossed over her chest, making her muscular 5’10 frame look even larger. Liv swallowed hard as she looked up at her, trying to look as unfazed as possible. 

It had been one week since Rhea had posted that photo on Instagram that had her in complete shambles. Liv had spent the past seven days trying to forget it even happened, so much so that she had even deleted Rhea’s unopened text message from her phone. And she had to admit, she was doing a pretty damn good job at distracting herself. That was, until today. After Rhea’s attack, Liv found herself consumed by her yet again, this time even more. The fact that Rhea was willing to do everything in her power to find a way to get her hands on her, even if it meant crossing over to another brand for a night, it all just made Liv so lightheaded. Well, that along with the repeated blows to the head she had taken in the ring.

“So… what was so important that you needed to come to my hotel to talk to me?” Rhea questions, her glare never wavering. 

Liv looks down at her sleeve and picks at a loose thread in the fabric. “I wanted to talk to you about…” her words trail off. Rhea cocks an eyebrow at her, impatient. Liv peeks up at her through her glasses and sees her visible irritation before taking a deep breath and blurting out, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last week.” She says the sentence so fast it almost sounds like one long word. 

Rhea’s face doesn’t change at the admission, remaining frozen in permanent annoyance. “What about last week?” she asks despite knowing exactly what Liv is referring to. She wanted to hear whatever pathetic explanation she had to offer up. 

“Listen, what happened was a complete accident. I didn’t mean to press any wrong buttons or anything, in fact that would be the last thing I would want to do.” Liv explains, eventually looking up at Rhea as she twists her hands. She seems genuinely agonized over the whole situation which Rhea finds hilarious considering it wasn’t even that big of a deal anyways. Maybe Rhea had finally knocked some sense into her during her attack earlier that day. 

“Yeah, I figured it wasn’t on purpose. I posted that caption in order to get a reaction out of you, which I knew I would and I did. So why come all the way over here to plead your case? Was it the beating I gave you earlier?” Rhea chuckles, honestly humored by the circumstances. 

Liv huffs in annoyance. “No, it was not the beating. Fuck you for that, by the way. It was the text you sent afterwards.” she admits.

Rhea nods in understanding, uncrossing her arms and sticking her hands in her pockets. “So you came all this way because I confronted you? That’s a new one.” she replies. “I still don’t understand why you’re here though. You could’ve just responded to my message. Hell, you could’ve even attacked me on RAW. So, why here? Why now?” Rhea presses, determined to get an answer.

Liv seems at a bit of a loss for words. She didn’t imagine their conversation lasting this long while still somehow remaining civil. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would be better to talk in person about it.” she shrugs lamely.

Rhea lets out a harsh laugh. “Talk? All of a sudden you’re focused on talking after over 2 years of hating each other? I knew you were dumb but not this dumb, Liv.” she smiles, canines flashing. She shakes her head in amusement. “Why even stalk me on social media? We beat the shit of each other every single week.”

“Since when do you regulate what I can and can’t do on my phone? Your account is public, people are going to check it. If you don't want that, maybe consider hitting the private button.” Liv snaps, her usual sharp attitude returning. 

“Oh, Liv, obviously people are going to look at my account. I just didn’t expect someone who had successfully taken quite literally everything away from me to be so obsessive.” Rhea replies, leaning down so she and Liv are eye to eye. 

Liv pushes herself off of the bed, standing before Rhea in defiance. “I think that’s really fucking rich coming from you, Rhea. Especially considering you haven’t left me or my family alone for months. But sure, I’m the one who’s obsessed.” She challenges.

“Here you go with this ‘family’ bullshit again. You know just as well as I do that they’ll never really be your family. You’ll come to learn just as I have that they’re all a bunch of conniving, selfish lowlifes who don’t care about anyone but themselves-” Rhea begins to taunt her but is cut off by a hard shove to the chest that pushes her back a mere couple of inches. Liv is nowhere near as strong as her but Rhea appreciated the effort regardless. The woman had guts, that was for sure. 

“Don’t talk about them.” Liv hisses. “You’re just jealous that they love me and not you.”

“And what have they done for you? Besides occasionally hold your hand up after a victory? That’s not love, Liv.” Rhea argues.

“Oh, but you know what is? You have pushed away and betrayed every single person who has ever loved you and you can’t even bring yourself to own up to it.” she retorts.

“Very few people have loved me, Liv.” Rhea dismisses, not allowing the harsh honesty to penetrate her heart.

“I did.” Liv professes, her eyes overtaken by sorrow and hatred after her confession. “I loved you more than anyone else in this business and what did you do? You ruined my fucking life in front of the whole world. So excuse me for wanting to rub my victories in your face.” Liv laughs harshly, despite finding nothing funny about the circumstances. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had moved on from what Rhea had done to her that she couldn’t realize that with each passing day she cared more than she ever did. 

“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? Sitting at home, barely able to move my arm at all, being forced to watch you and Dominik every single week?” Tears brim Liv’s eyes, a sight that makes Rhea’s heart ache horribly. “Did I really mean that little to you?” she whispers, unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. 

The sight in front of her makes Rhea’s chest hurt. She had always imagined having Liv a crying mess at her feet but not like this. “Please don’t cry.” she says while reaching out to brush away the fallen tear but is stopped by Liv’s hand pushing hers away. 

“Don’t touch me. You don't get to comfort me after what you’ve put me through.” Liv asserts softly, wiping away the tears herself. 

Rhea nods in defeat. She may not like Liv but she understands where she fucked up, regardless of not being able to admit it. God, why couldn’t she just fucking apologize? Maybe it really was too late. 

“If it hurt you so bad to see me with him, why even choose Dominik?” Rhea asked quietly.

Liv smiles softly before answering. “Because I wanted to hurt you, why else? Hurting you will always give me a satisfaction that no championship ever could. Yours was just a bonus.” she winks. 

“You sure you’re still not obsessed?” Rhea cocks her head to the side, looking at Liv with a smirk. 

Liv leans in even closer. “So what if I am?” she questions defiantly.

Rhea decided that she’d heard more than enough. Throwing caution to the wind, she snaked her hands behind Liv’s head and entangled them into her hair before swallowing her words into a heavenly kiss. Her movements caught Liv so off guard but she managed to move perfectly with her, melting into her touch. Liv couldn’t ignore how fucking good Rhea felt against her mouth. With Rhea’s hand behind Liv’s head, she tilted her face up so she could deepen the kiss. Liv kissed her back with the same feverish passion, gently coaxing Rhea’s mouth open with her tongue, further intensifying the kiss. Rhea groaned against Liv’s mouth, feeling the other woman’s plush lips smile against hers at the sound. 

 Liv felt an unmistakable heat flicker between her legs as Rhea’s large, calloused hands explored her lithe body. She let out a blissful sigh into Rhea’s mouth, which only increased her frantic desire even more. Rhea redirected her lips to Liv’s neck, kissing and sucking like there was no tomorrow. Liv knew that there would be marks left in the morning but she couldn’t care less, not when she had finally gotten what she had been craving for years on end. 

Rhea clumsily guided them back a few feet to the bed, refusing to part lips with Liv even after they almost tripped over each other. Rhea gently eased Liv down onto the bed, her mouth never leaving her neck. Liv’s hands had found their way under the hem of Rhea’s t-shirt and softly scratched her perfectly manicured fingers against Rhea’s muscled figure, enticing a soft groan from her. 

“Fuck, Liv…” Rhea whispered, her breath hot on Liv’s skin. 

Liv let out a soft giggle and tugged at Rhea’s top, a silent plea for her to take it off. Rhea paused her movements for a moment and complied, pulling the fabric up and over her body agonizingly slowly. Liv sat up on her elbows, making out the soft imprints of Rhea’s nipple piercings through the fabric of her bra.

Liv found herself rendered speechless, staring up at the mountain of a woman standing in front of her. Her eyes followed the lines of black ink that were embedded onto Rhea’s torso, imagining how they would taste on her tongue. Her breath quickens as watches Rhea run her tattooed fingers over the material of her bra strap before hooking onto them and pulling them off of her shoulder. Rhea tugs at her bra with one hand while the other unhooks the clasps behind her back. Rhea allows it to fall off of her figure, exposing the top half of her body to Liv like she once did in the locker room all those years ago. A moment Liv finds herself replaying in her head more often than she’d like to admit. 

“Holy shit.” Liv whispers, feeling almost lightheaded at the situation she had found herself in. She feels her face heat as Rhea chuckles at her reaction. 

“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna get to work?” Rhea teases, hands reaching up to palm at her tits, thumbs grazing over her piercings. Rhea hisses softly at the sensation and rolls her head back. 

Liv’s mouth immediately waters at the sight before her. She takes Rhea’s words as a challenge, pushing herself off of the bed and standing before her once again. She takes off her glasses and places them on the bedside table before kissing her lips softly once more as her hands find themselves gripping the flesh of her breasts. She feels the cool barbells of her piercings under her fingertips. Rhea’s breath caught in her throat at the the sensation of Liv’s hands roaming her body, her own hands gripping the blonde’s hips tightly. Her breathing grows ragged as she watches Liv trail her lips from her lips to her collarbone to finally her sternum and the flesh surrounding it. 

Rhea watches wide-eyed as Liv’s tongue laves at her breast, her fingers toying with the other in order to stimulate her as much as possible. She fights as hard as she can from allowing any noise to escape her throat, knowing that it would do nothing but inflate Liv’s ego even more but she can’t help the mewl that slips past her lips. Liv glances up at her, releasing her now swollen nipple with a pop. Her mouth forms into a satisfied smirk, kissing where her mouth just was before before asking a satisfied “you like that?” 

Rhea rolls her eyes, that same familiar annoyance she usually felt around Liv sinking back in. “Shut the fuck up and put your mouth back on me.” she says irritatedly.

 Liv cocks her eyebrow at her, the mischievous glint never leaving her eye. “I think you could ask a little nicer, don't you? Especially after all you’ve put me through?” Liv taunts with a pout, her fingers tracing hearts on Rhea’s skin. 

Rhea huffs before letting out an exasperated “please.” She lets out a groan when Liv shakes her head stubbornly, not impressed by her lack of enthusiasm. 

“Please what?” Liv doubles down on her stubbornness. 

Rhea eventually swallows her pride, which she almost chokes on before finally pleading with the blonde.

“Fine, fuck, please just touch me.” Rhea borderline begs, looking down at Liv through her eyelashes with an anguished look painted across her sharp features. 

A dangerous smile appears on Liv’s face at the sound of Rhea’s desperation. “Much better.” she hums in approval. She palms at Rhea’s breasts a bit more, feeling her skin heat beneath her hands before sliding them down her body. “This what you wanted?” Liv asked, unable to conceal her wicked smile. 

Dominance was not something Rhea was willing to give up easily and she knew that. Liv didn’t know how long she had until Rhea could regain her composure and slip back into that commanding persona she never seemed to step down from, so she knew had to make the most of the time she had. Rhea nods hopelessly. She was usually such a giver but she wanted nothing more but to be taken care of at the moment. She was positive she would return the favor later on but right now, she craved the opportunity to forfeit her ability to think for the time being. 

Liv gently lays Rhea down onto the bed, her raven hair fanning out around her head. Liv’s nimble fingers make their way to the waistband of Rhea’s sweatpants, fumbling with the waistband for a moment until she successfully unties it. Rhea lifts her hips off of the mattress so Liv can pull her pants out from under her and down her legs as she inhales the scent of the cashmere lotion Rhea had massaged into her skin earlier. Liv runs her hands up and down Rhea’s thighs, each caress creeping closer and closer to the waistband of her gray boxers. Liv allows her fingers to creep between Rhea’s legs and run along the small wet spot that had formed there. 

Rhea whimpers and shifts at the contact, causing Liv to tut at her, feigning disapproval at her squirming. Liv hooks her fingers into Rhea’s waistband and pulls them down and off of her figure, exposing her dripping cunt to the soft light of the room. Rhea’s clit peeked through her swollen folds coated in her arousal along with the piercing that adorned it. Liv grows hungry at the sight, heat beginning to pool below her hips as well. However something catches her eye. 

Liv squints in the dim lighting, her eyes taking a moment to focus since she didn’t have her glasses on anymore. She is able to make out a tattoo, no smaller than half of her thumb. The black ink had been manipulated in the shape of an eye with three dots below it. Her logo. Memories from years ago flood her brain like a tsunami. When she and Rhea had gotten so stupidly drunk together after a show that they had somehow stumbled into a shitty tattoo parlor and demanded matching tattoos. They decided on each other's logos on their bikini lines. They were so drunk that they didn't even feel the needle of the tattoo gun penetrate their skin, holding each other's hands as they got them. The exact details of that night were still hazy even now, as the Don Julio had gotten the best of them both that night but one thing remained: the tattoos served as an unspoken promise. No matter what happened, whether they loved or hated each other in the future, they would always be linked to one another. For better or for worse. Like wedding vows, almost. 

Liv traces the tattoo lightly. “You kept it?” she whispers, eyes finally meeting Rhea’s.

Rhea smiled softly, immediately understanding what she meant. “Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?” 

Liv attempts to smile but can't quite bring herself to do so. “I don’t know… I figured you would’ve had it removed or covered up or something. You know, after everything that happened.” she confesses, her eyes falling back to the tattoo. 

“That doesn’t change what we had together. I was a dick, I know that. Removing it would’ve only further cemented that.” Rhea replies, slightly ashamed to look at Liv as she says this. “Do you… do you still have yours?” she asks timidly, afraid to hear the answer.

Liv’s eyes brighten at the question as she nods. She slides her shorts and underwear off before crawling onto the bed next to Rhea. Rhea’s eyes soften at the sight of the two R’s embedded onto Liv’s skin, leaning in to kiss it softly. Her strong hands grip Liv’s hips as she distributes kisses all over her stomach. 

“I want you on my face.” Rhea professes, accent taken over with a soft rasp. 

Liv clenches at her words as her hands cup Rhea’s face. “But I wanted to take care of you.” 

“You can take care of me by shutting up and getting on my face.” Rhea grins. She doesn’t allow Liv to protest, using her strength to place her right above her face so Liv was hovering right above her mouth, just centimeters away from her lips.

Rhea flits her tongue over Liv’s now aching clit, almost in a lazy manner it was so slow. Liv let out the breath she had been holding and laced her fingers into Rhea’s hair, desperately fighting the urge to just shove her face into her dripping cunt. Luckily, Rhea understood Liv’s anticipation and began to dip her tongue into Liv’s sweet folds, the ball of her tongue piercing catching on her clit. Rhea began to use a finger to gently stretch her out. Liv’s chest heaved and her heart raced as Rhea flattened her tongue and ran it along her clit before gently enveloping it into her mouth and beginning to suck.

“Mmf- fuck.” Liv whined above the dark haired woman, tossing her head back in bliss. She felt the familiar warmth in her stomach begin to ignite and grow and spread all over her body, touching each of her nerves and setting them ablaze. Liv gripped onto her hair tighter and pushed Rhea’s face even deeper into her heat, ultimately giving in to her desires. 

Rhea let out a muffled moan both at Liv’s actions and at the taste of her, sending vibrations through Liv’s already trembling body. The sensation caused Liv to let out a choked moan as she began to babble praises that she couldn’t even verbally finish. She was a mess. She felt Rhea’s piercing swirl around her clit, enticing desperate moans from the depths of her soul to rip from her throat. Liv could feel her orgasm approaching quickly, her legs beginning to shake around Rhea’s head as a result. 

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” Rhea hummed into Liv’s folds as she continued the assault with her mouth, drunk off of the taste of her. 

Liv nodded dumbly, unable to even form a coherent thought. “Yes- yeah… oh fuck, Rhea.” she babbles, hips stuttering with every grind. 

“Go ahead, baby. All on my face… every last fuckin’ drop.” Rhea slurs, her words melting into one another. She gripped the flesh of Liv’s ass tighter while holding her against her face as she intensified the motions of her mouth, determined to make her cum in ways Dominik could only dream of. 

Liv does exactly as Rhea asks, eyes rolling back into her head and jaw going slack as she cums. One of her hands released Rhea’s hair and began to strangle the bed sheets surrounding her, twisting and wrinkling them in her vice-like grip. Rhea continued to lap at Liv’s clit as she re-inserted a finger into her, pumping at a steady pace. Liv could barely think as her legs spasmed from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She clenched around Rhea’s finger, hot white lights beginning to blind her vision as Rhea continued to stimulate her. 

Rhea finally removed her fingers from her still leaking hole before Liv rolled off of her and sank into the plush pillows of the mattress. She looked over to Rhea who had brought her fingers up to Liv’s lips which of course she opened welcomingly. Rhea watched in admiration as Liv sucked her juices off of her fingers with closed eyes. She had entered a euphoric state as her mind began to settle. Liv opened her eyes after hearing the soft groan Rhea had let out at the sight of her fingers down Liv’s throat as she continued to clean her up, not wasting a single drop.  Liv nearly orgasmed again when she saw the entire lower half of Rhea's face absolutely soaked with her sweet juices. 

Rhea leans in to kiss her deeply, allowing Liv to taste herself one last time before pulling back with a smile. “Stay here.” she says, mischief blooming in her eyes. Liv nods obediently, she would probably do anything Rhea asked after an orgasm like that. She watches Rhea roll off the bed and walk into the bathroom, enjoying the view as she walks out of the room. Liv hears Rhea rummaging around her belongings softly and wonders what she may be searching for. She had almost fully recovered from her orgasm when Rhea walked back in. Liv turns to face her and feels her jaw drop when she sees what sits on her hips. 

Rhea walks in with a purple silicone strap-on attached to a black harness strapped to her hips. She pauses at the foot of the bed and nods her head at Liv, a silent is this okay? Liv’s face breaks out into a smile and nods back eagerly. 

Rhea grabs her legs and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed before climbing on. She kneels between Liv’s legs and spreads them wide, positioning the tip of her strap to just barely tease her entrance. She runs her cock up and down Liv’s slit, collecting her essence. Rhea leans down and spits right where she and Liv meet. Liv’s breath hitches when she feels it hit her pussy and looks up at Rhea with pleading eyes. 

“Please.” Liv  begs. She almost sounds like she’s on the verge of tears with how desperate she is. Rhea feels her pride swell seeing her like this.

“Please what?” she asks cockily, throwing Liv’s earlier question back at her. Her thumb slides up Liv’s thigh and settles on her clit and begins to rub slow circles, almost in an attempt to coax the answer out of her. 

Liv’s chest heaves at Rhea's ministrations, her mouth falling open slowly and her eyes glued to where Rhea stimulates her. “Fuck me. Please just fuck me… I’ll do anything.” she pleads as she rips her eyes from Rhea’s fingers and returns them to her piercing blue eyes. 

Rhea smirks in satisfaction. She removes her fingers and Liv whimpers at the loss of contact. Rhea decides to compensate by slowly pushing her cock into Liv’s aching cunt, letting out a strained exhale as she does. It takes all of Rhea’s willpower not to fuck into her like an animal at the sound of the prolonged whine Liv lets out as Rhea’s strap stretches her out. Rhea thrusts into her at a slow pace, allowing Liv to adjust to the feeling of having herself filled to the brim over and over again. 

“Faster, please.” Liv breathes. Her nails dig into the skin of Rhea’s biceps in almost painful anticipation. The arousal Rhea felt while seeing her like this couldn’t be compared to any other sentiment on the planet. The way her blonde hair unfurled around her hair like a halo, she looked like an angel. An angel that Rhea couldn’t wait to ruin. 

Rhea increases the speed of her thrusts, bottoming out in Liv’s cunt with each one. Liv’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, mouth agape with the most sinful noises spilling from her parted lips. The backs of her thighs began to ache with the constant slapping of Rhea’s skin against hers, her speed never slowing except to torture the poor woman. The squelches of Liv’s juices dripping from her weeping hole from each thrust made her head spin as they stained the sheets below her trembling body. A sheer creamy ring of white forms at the base of Rhea’s strap. How long has it been? It felt like an eternity, the way the pleasure seemed never-ending as Rhea continued to ravage her body like a woman possessed. 

Liv couldn't do anything but moan Rhea’s name and make pitiful attempts at forming sentences, her words dissolving into whimpers in a matter of seconds. It should be embarrassing, really. And part of her was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she had let mortal enemy have her like this after 2 years of denying herself what she knew would be a destructive paradise. 

“This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Rhea sneered down at the blonde, her voice dripping with malice yet adoration. Her thick accent overtaken by a harsh rasp, sweat forming on her brow and dampening her hair slightly. “You came all the way over here with your stupid little fucking apology prepared just to end up like this, didn’t you?” she pants. Her muscles bulged and glistened with sweat, her back adorned in angry red scratch marks, courtesy of the woman underneath her, to accompany the ink on her skin. 

Liv made another measly attempt at responding to yet another one of her degrading comments but her mind seemed to short circuit as Rhea pressed into her even more, nearly folding her in half the same way she pinned her opponents in the ring. Liv cried out in pleasure, causing Rhea to laugh at her. Her sharp canines were on display, looking as happy as ever knowing that she was the only person who could get Liv like this. Liv could lie and pretend all she wanted with Dominik but they both knew that he couldn’t hold a candle to how Rhea made her feel.

Liv looked over at the mirror beside the bed, seeing exactly how fucked out she was folded up beneath the very woman she swore that she hated, watching as she let her do whatever she wanted to her. Rhea grabbed her face with a heavily inked hand, forcing Liv’s face in the direction of the mirror. 

“My god, look at you… look at how much of a slut you are. Just a stupid, needy fucktoy for Mami to use whenever she wants, aren't you baby?” she cooed, leaning down to kiss and lick at Liv’s neck. She’ll never get over the taste of her. Sweet, tangy, carnal, hers. All hers. 

Liv’s eyes meet Rhea’s piercing blue ones in the mirror, her body aching with pleasure and fatigue but still managed to nod along pathetically to her words. “M’all yours, Mami… all yours.” she whimpered. 

Liv watches Rhea’s eyes light up at her confession. “That's right babe… this is all for you, I’m doing this all for you. Fuckin’ love this body… this pussy… this face.” Rhea says, her words slightly slurred. Her thrusts began to stutter, the piston of her hips becoming erratic as she chased her high the same as Liv did. Her strap fills Liv to the brim and stretches her out until she's delirious while the back of it hits Rhea’s clit just right with every stroke, her moans and pants mingled with hers. 

“Fuck m’gonna cum…” she whispers, not trusting her voice because she knew that it would come out as a whimper pathetic enough to rival Liv’s as she replies with a strangled “me too”, gripping onto Rhea’s shoulders for stability, biceps flexing as she holds herself up. 

“Wanna ride you.” Liv mumbles. Her words are almost impossible to understand with the way her moans overpowered them but Rhea was still able to somehow comprehend her. She nods and pulls out before being quickly shoved back against the pillows. Liv mounts her lap and sinks back down onto her cock in a frenzy, a mix of whimpers and Rhea’s name spilling from her lips uncontrollably. 

“Shit, baby… look at you. So fuckin’ worked up over me, aren’t you? Taking my cock so fucking good… like you were made for it.” Rhea praises, looking up at Liv in awe. Liv’s head was tossed back, tits bouncing as she rode Rhea fiercely. She slows her movements to grind down on Rhea’s hips. The back of the toy rubbed against Rhea’s piercing, making her almost incoherent. Rhea grips Liv’s hips and fucks up into her, matching her movements. 

“That's it baby, give it to me. Come on… show me how fucking bad you want it.” Rhea grits, kissing at Liv’s neck as she does. Liv intensifies her movements at Rhea’s words, her face contorting in pleasure. 

“Fuck, Rhea, right there… god, I’m so close.” Liv whines. Her thighs ached but she deemed it worth it with the amount of pleasure she was experiencing. 

“I know you are, baby, I know. You’re being so fucking good for me, angel. C’mon, give it to me… cum all over my cock.” Rhea purrs, her accent like velvet. 

Liv’s eyes roll back as she feels heat bloom in the pit of her belly. Her second orgasm hits her like a freight train. She cums with a loud cry, her body spasming as she curls herself into Rhea’s arms, burying her face into her neck. Rhea strokes her back and smooths her hair, kissing her shoulder softly until Liv finally stops shaking. Rhea gently lifts Liv up off of her lap just enough to pull the strap out of her and returns her to her previous position. 

They sit there for a moment, holding each other. The silence around them isn’t deafening like it once was, but is now tranquil. It lulls their racing heartbeats and sharp breaths as they melt into each other’s embrace. Liv pushes herself off of Rhea’s body, eyes heavy with fatigue and something else Rhea can’t identify. 

“You okay?” Rhea asks softly, hoping she wasn’t too rough. 

Liv nods with a gentle smile. She was more than just okay, really. She tilts her head slightly and gazes at Rhea, a realization having hit her. “You didn’t get to finish.” she points out. 

Rhea smiles, touched by her thoughtfulness. “That’s alright. I’m more than satisfied.” she reassures her. Sure, she was very close earlier but the contented bliss she felt at the moment made up for the lack of orgasm in her mind.

Liv shook her head in protest. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she actually owed Rhea something. “Please let me.” she says in a soft voice, her index finger following the tattooed lines on Rhea’s forearm. She doesn’t need to specify what she wants to do. Unspoken communication had been one of the things she and Rhea had been the best at back when they were a team.  

Rhea sees the genuine tenderness painted across Liv’s features and agrees. Liv rolls off of her before Rhea attempts to undo the harness around her hips before she’s stopped by Liv’s hands. Liv motions for her to shift down the bed and lay back completely before she unfastens the harness with ease, sliding it down Rhea’s legs and tossing it to the side of the bed. She positions herself on her stomach between Rhea’s legs, bringing them over her shoulders so they could rest there. Rhea’s cunt is coated in her own arousal accumulated from being inside of Liv for so long. Liv plants a sweet kiss right on Rhea’s clit before beginning to devour her. 

Rhea’s back arches up off the bed when she feels Liv’s tongue swirl over her swollen clit and the jewelry that embellished it. Her fingers found themselves gripping Liv’s hair, pulling lightly as she moaned her name sweetly. Liv inserts a finger into her hole and pistons in and out of her gently while sucking on her pearl. Every move she makes is meticulous. Every lick, every suck, every penetration isn’t without intention. Liv isn’t in any rush to make Rhea cum, in fact she wants her to savor it for as long as possible. However, she isn’t surprised when she does in only a matter of moments. Rhea mewls Liv’s name and nothing else as she climaxes around her fingers, like her name is the only thing she can think of when finally arriving to a state of everlasting ecstasy. She’s far quieter than Liv but Liv feels that her noises mean so much more than her own do. 

Liv remains between Rhea’s thighs, placing small kisses here and there until Rhea finally catches her breath. She crawls back up to join her where she lay and places her head on Rhea’s chest, kissing it when she does. Liv listens to Rhea’s heartbeat slowly return to its normal steady pace. This all feels so intimate. 

“You wanna spend the night?” Rhea asks quietly, her voice almost a whisper. She doesn’t really even fully understand why she’s asking, considering she and Liv technically still hate each other. But she would be an even bigger asshole if she made her cry, fucked the everloving shit out of her, and then kicked her out. The last thing she needed was to give Liv yet another reason to want her dead. 

“Sure.” Liv replies, equally surprised at both the question and her answer. She rolls off the bed and follows Rhea into her hotel bathroom, unable to ignore he dull ache in her thighs from the vigor which Rhea fucked her with. 

Inside the shower, they take turns washing each other. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter besides them in that very moment together. The warm water washed away the soap on their bodies and any residue the kisses they were unable to stop giving each other had left behind. After they had dried off, Rhea let Liv borrow another one of her shirts for the night before climbing into bed together. 

Liv nestles herself into Rhea, inhaling the smell of laundry detergent and body wash as she did so. Rhea wraps her arms around her as well and holds her close. They lay in the dark room quietly for a few minutes before Rhea breaks the silence. 

“So… are we ever going to talk about this?” she asks, a bit apprehensive of what this would mean for not only their relationship but Liv’s relationship with Dominik as well.

Liv thinks to herself for a moment, unsure of how to go about things as well. “I’m not sure, to be honest. But don’t think this means that I forgive you for everything you’ve done.” she says.

Rhea chuckles, and the sound warms Liv’s heart more than she’d like to admit. “I know. And I still want my title back.” she responds, unable to hide the smile in her voice.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Liv giggles. 

They sigh, feeling satisfied and fulfilled. They both knew that this was only a matter of time coming. It was honestly a miracle they were able to hold off for as long as they did because one thing was for sure: they would never stop coming back to each other. 

── •✧• ──

[sonkitty]

Okay, I read all 8 posts and then I went back to this one first post. I have gone over every cut for this scene. I have made my own images with their own brightness and increased saturation. I have logged notes for my own sake and general curiosity.

This puzzle is one of the most intense ones I've found shared by other fans, and it was incredibly difficult.

You have clearly put a lot of thought, time, and energy into this theory.

But you were the one who was tricked from the start, right here. You were set up. You found a very elaborate red herring, and it was definitely thoroughly set out to trap you or anyone with this line of thinking.

The irony, the joke on you, is that you were the one who was misdirected, and this puzzle even told you that.

I don't blame you in the least because I am very used to being tricked by the games in this story, so I knew to be wary of this idea and why. I also know what to look for and what questions to ask because of how many times I've been tricked.

I will break it down because this puzzle is just way too good to pass up. Solving it is an excellent learning experience on how to solve the really advanced puzzles in this story. This thing is top tier. Bravo, Crowley. I cannot believe it was solvable, but I should know better by now.

That person is definitely not the Metatron. It is almost certainly the same person the whole time, and the story did make sure to give you clues on how to determine that while very much deliberately misleading you to your conclusion, except the chess thing. The story wants you to find and play its own original game, Earthly Objects, not chess.

This puzzle requires checking things cut by cut, not just frame by frame. It is extremely advanced.

Let's start with where you started because the clues are there if one knows what to look for. Here is my version based on the first image you provided:

Here is part of the text you provided: "White hair."

White hair?

Let's check that a bit closer, shall we? Look closely. Really, really closely.

There is a little bit of white hair at the bottom, and as you go up, you can see that the hair is darker on top. That is a darker gray. It is not white.

Here, let's compare this exact cut with my estimation of the exact frame you captured with similar angles for the Metatron:

And just in case we think the lighting is too favorable even in the bookshop, let's darken the Metatron portion:

You know something? I'll try and match the original better. I'll crop them all and brighten the original some. Then for the Metatron versions, I'll lower the scale, cut off the left ear, and try to get a decent match on the darkness of our brightened person in the coffee shop.

If you don't see it, the Metatron's hair does not progressively darken from the bottom up to the top. His white hair is white so it rather follows where the light itself hits the hair. That was a lot of effort to even make the comparison.

The Metatron's hair is also very slightly longer just above the neck, yes, even if his head were bowed slightly. Here, we can find the slightly bowed down look as he and Aziraphale make their way to the pub doors for the elevator:

Oh, now we can also see more clearly that the white collar would have to be much more defined to match the person in the coffee shop.

Let's take a look at the human you refer to as the "slim man" from the initial cut with his phone lit:

In this lighting, his hair does look more white at the bottom and darker at the top.

He doesn't always look like that.

This guy has a blue bag, and because I do play Earthly Objects, I happen to know where to find him shortly before this scene.

In this particular screenshot, he is near the post and obscuring Justine.

Here he is with the screenshot now cropped:

Well, his white hair doesn't look like it darkens either. We're seeing him from the right profile. We just saw from his left profile that in the lighting of the coffee shop scene itself, that's what his hair looks like in that setting.

If you look really hard in episode 5, you can find him without his bag here:

You might still have trouble seeing him, so let me emphasize where he is:

If you watch the whole cut, you'll see that he is in Crowley's and Aziraphale's line of sight. That means it is plausible they know what he actually looks like already.

Now if you zoom in, you can see that while you might be able to find a patch of lighter hair from the back, there is enough of a gradient that it's like what we see in the coffee shop. The hair is lighter at the bottom than at the top in this lighting as well.

Another super subtle difference in the hair is that the Metatron's hair is a little wavy in the back. This human's hair is straight in the back and on the sides, not wavy.

The main reason this coffee shop scene provides this hair clue is so that you don't start making excuses once you figure out the other clues based on his apparel.

Speaking of apparel, here is the next part of the text you provided: "dark overcoat."

You can find that is not a dark overcoat in the image below with the white box I've placed below the credit card stickers and to the left of the OPEN sign:

The Metatron's coat reaches to his knees. The human's jacket reaches below his butt and above his knees. You can tell through that blue inside the coffee shop and near darker colors that the upper clothing is the human's jacket, not the Metatron's overcoat. You are seeing the separation of the jacket from the pants, and it will come up again later.

You also say "rounded shoulders."

I disagree and think overall, he looks slender here, but let's move on because there is still more to be found.

For the blue area near where one can find out that the jacket is a jacket, is that blue then the blue bag? No, it is not. We can actually then find the blue bag because we now know where it is not.

Here is the cut in motion:

Watch the area above the judo sticker.

If you can't see it because it is too dark, here is the a picture shown earlier for the part I want anyone interested to notice:

This time, look at the white box near the judo sticker. That is the blue bag. We have now confirmed that we are indeed seeing the same human we saw before this supposed switch.

It was never the Metatron during this entire cut.

You were most certainly set up to believe so if you didn't check the earthly objects that could be used as clues more closely.

Note the red shoes on his back during this cut.

...

The entire scene is like that. It is constantly testing you every step of the way.

For example, here is more text from the original post: "Well, how come we never see the slim cell phone guy again?" you may wonder.

I see someone already noticed the same thing I'm going to note. If one checks the scene very thoroughly, I don't have to wonder at all. You actually circled it for us even if you didn't realize it.

Again, it helps to watch the clip in motion:

Now here are a few cropped screenshots for me to show you where to find it in the exact same cut you circled it for us:

It is no longer lit, but it is still there. You can find it by its darkness over the shirt of the human with the orange shirt and that darkness extending out from the clothing.

This cut is also the one being referenced with the following text:

"Because he's facing sideways, we can tell that this man is not slender like the man with a cell phone and blue bag. The man we see now, in this photo, wears a long coat that comes straight down in the front. It's not a jacket, it's an overcoat."

Nope. You were tricked. Quite deliberately.

The sticker on the door just below the cell phone we just found is obscuring where the front of the jacket shows its separation from the pants.

Look further down near Nina's elbow, and you can see that the person in the coffee shop is stepping forward, so yes, his pants would meet his jacket behind that sticker.

In the next cut where you can see this person is when this puzzle shows you how you were just tricked.

This cut is for Nina saying, "You and your partner?"

That's why I said it's a cut-by-cut puzzle.

Let's take a closer look at this person:

You still might not see it, so I'll tell you what's happening and that you really do have to look extremely closely yourself, even with enhanced effects to clarify the image.

At the start of the cut, there is a small pocket where the jacket is meeting the pants just above the blue part of the door. As the person we are watching slides over to their left during the cut, this pocket is obscured by Nina's arm and so it ends up looking like an overcoat instead of a jacket. That's to help you know that if something is visually in the way of the jacket meeting the pants, it will look like an overcoat due to the limited lighting available and color of his clothing.

I'll box it from a video frame early in the cut, but I know you might not be able to see it because it's small and difficult to see, but I have checked quite thoroughly that it is there:

That's a jacket, not an overcoat, and the right side of the jacket is still obscured, this time by the door side panel. Crowley is giving us a clue here because we can see Crowley's jacket taking up a lot of space in the screenshot while also showing the red of his collar.

Still yet the next cut of this person in the coffee shop shows it more plainly:

After that, the clues shift to showing a gap between the legs above the knees.

The legs near the shoes are visible enough that you can see that the legs align with that gap.

But there's still more to this trick.

Here is the cut in full motion where you are declaring that is not a jacket, it's an overcoat. It's the part I said the jacket separating the pants was hidden by the sticker. Nina says, "You been together long?"

Did you notice the shoe moving over by Nina's left elbow? That's another clue. The Metatron wears baggy clothing. His pants run down to nearly his heels. This guy wears pants with cuffs rolled up above his shoe. You can't really tell the colors easily, but you can actually figure out that this pant leg over this shoe is a better match to the human than to the Metatron because it's too slender and tight near the ankle to be the Metatron.

Here is an image I made for reference:

I won't go over the rest of the cuts of this person in this setting where this trick is happening, but I hope you get the idea.

To close out the whole thing and even tell you that you were dealing with a red herring, here is part of the last cut of the trick:

That is a red light on one of the passing vehicles in a reflection passing over the red shoes on the door.

I didn't get the whole thing because it's long.

If you watch the whole cut, you'll even see the red of Crowley's collar again, more red lights, and red clothing on nearby humans.

I then checked the entire scene to be sure that such a red light was avoided on that window pane the whole time otherwise. It was indeed. I mean, looking at this post, there is technically a more subtle one than the type that I mean for when the human slides lightly to his left. I did mean something more defined like what is here. That's part of what I mean for how I'm tricked too. The scene waited for an audience player to check the whole thing all the way to the end of the trick to notice this clue.

If you go through the present day scenes where you expect to find humans on the street, you'll only find this human this easily in this episode. He's not one of the more easily findable repeats. He was absolutely set up for this trick into misleading someone that he might be the Metatron shown at this time.

...

But anyway, speaking of misdirection, let me leave you with a joke I found through trying to solve a different puzzle.

How do you trick an elevator? With misdirection.

The Metatron Misdirection: Nina's Magic Trick (A New Final 15 MetaTheory)

Part 1 of 8 in the Chess Moves Theory Set by @wistfulnightingale

**I believe it is new -- I haven't found it anywhere else.

Misdirection is a key element in the most skilled magic tricks. It's more than mere distraction, wiggling one hand while the other hides the ace. Misdirection in Magic means that the magician isn't "hiding" the trick; they are allowing you to think that you are looking at exactly the right moment, while convincingly focusing your attention away from the moment when 90% of the trick actually happened. Magicians Penn and Teller are quoted as saying, "The strongest lie is the lie that the audience tells itself."

This article on What Is Misdirection in Magic tells exactly how it's done. Check out the 7 Types of Misdirection in the article, or in my Chess Moves Theory Master Post. They're used easily and often in the final episodes of Season 2.

I think there might be a major misdirection in Episode 5 that set up the events of the second half of Episode 6, and makes sense of some of the crazy-weird scenes and out-of-character behaviors we see, both in that scene and later. But, it'll seem absolutely bonkers... so please, keep breathing, and hear me out, and please check out all the interconnected 8-Parts that help support my reasoning.

I include photos below, and I admit they're not clear enough to be "proof" on their own. But the idea itself would explain why Azi abruptly left Nina, and why Crowley babbled. Some of the other parts of my overall theory add some additional possibilities as well. (Interestingly, the photos are from videos that used to be available free on YouTube Prime Video, but have been removed from the Good Omens playlists in recent months.

In E5, while we were watching Crowley stammer, and listening to Nina puzzle out relationships, and when our belief in the Ineffable Marriage was shattered by Crowley's answer -- Nina was (without her knowledge) participating in the biggest Misdirection of Season 2.

I suspect The Metatron was already in the Coffee Shop. I know it sounds nuts, but I strongly suspect that Episode 6 was not his first visit. I believe that I can show you reasonable evidence (added up from here and from other parts of my Chess Moves Theory-series) that the Metatron made a "trial run" the day before, during this scene in Episode 5. Crowley and Aziraphale were each shocked to spot him through the window behind Nina. Misdirection made him almost impossible for us to see.

Almost. But I think he's there. At least, there's a guy in a long dark overcoat, who looks like he's talking to another customer. Possibly a coffee-confused celestial gentleman getting help from a good samaritan? Let me explain how I think it was done, and I'll show you what I think is the Metatron.

This screenshot (let's call it Photo #1) is untampered, basically what we see in the episode. Aziraphale was happily chatting with Crowley about the nonexistent pen of his nonexistent aunt's nonexistant gardener... Then Nina emerges, has "things to say" about Neighborhood Christmas lights (that's the moment in this screenshot)... and Aziraphale abruptly hurries away. Within minutes, Crowley is stammering as if he'd never had a moment's thought that he and his Angel could have a committed, romantic relationship.

How...? What...?! Crowley, really, dude, what the...??! (Please refer to An Old Married Couple for my thoughts on this!)

But when we take that same moment, come in closer, brighten and sharpen it, make it more vivid --

Photo #2. There. In the red oval. The white hair, the dark overcoat, rounded shoulders. The Metatron. We didn't expect to see him there. So we didn't.

Hold on! -- I don't expect you to be convinced yet. So I went through moment by moment. There are more photos. (I recommend that you also check the brightness of your own viewing screen -- it helps!)

Nina is used in the scene to perform a concealment and switch, a replacement (magician's call it a Change), and then a distraction -- A Magic Trick. Nina is a huge part of why we're not easily able to spot the Metatron.

Magic Trick Step 1: There's magical sleight of hand going on, even once you know what to look for. We are visually warned. When we first see Nina, as our Ineffables are talking about impossible French, she literally emerges from the shadows (see photo below). Remember, this is significantly Before talking about "Christmas lights" in Photos 1 & 2.

Magic Trick Step 2: If we do happen to look at the customers in the shop as Nina emerges, there's a white-haired man in line who is NOT the Metatron. Note his height compared to the orange-shirt guy. He's taller, and he's fairly slim. We can see his pants or denims, so he's wearing a short jacket, not an overcoat. He's also holding a lit cell phone and carrying a blue bag. I didn't brighten this photo at all. We're supposed to see this particular fellow. He's part of the magic trick, planted there for the switch, just in case we do notice a more significant white-haired man later.

Here's the same photo, brightened. You can more easily see that he's wearing a short jacket -- we see his legs as he steps forward.

(Pay attention to the man in the orange shirt. He's very visible with that bright color. In later shots, he stays near the Metatron, and helps us visually track them both, when both are blurred by distracting window reflections.)

Magic Trick Step 3: Next, Nina steps into the light. As she steps forward, she says, "Bravo! Just enjoying the show." Again, we are given cues that there's a show in play. She bends over to wipe a table, completely blocking our view of the slim white-haired man.

Magic Trick Step 4: The camara cuts to Azi, and that's the last we see of the slim man with the cell phone and bag. Presto-Change-o, Abracadabra! Like a disappearing act with a magician's silk cloth, or like Azi's trick for Nefertiti with the 3 cowry shells, the switch (in magic, called "the Change") has been made! The slim man is gone.

Magic Trick Step 5: When the camera returns to Nina, it's the first photo I showed you, with the Metatron in it. The man in orange isn't at the front of the line anymore. (Was he undecided about his order, and stepped aside?) We can see a sliver of his shirt to the left of the doorframe, just inside the oval, but he's almost entirely hidden. Nina's talking about the Christmas lights. "I have things to say."

It all happens in less than 30 seconds.

"Where, then, was the Metatron?" you may ask in disbelief. There's a big rectangular pillar in the middle of the floor behind Nina, just to the right of the line. There is a mural on it, so it's camouflaged. On the walls behind the pillar are menu boards -- we see them in the "How's your naked man friend" scene in E1. It's likely that the Metatron was behind the pillar, looking at the menu options.

"Well, how come we never see the slim cell phone guy again?" you may wonder. The tables at the far edges of the shop are never seen. If he sat down, especially at our far left, he'd be out of view.

Here's that "I have things to say" photo again --

That's when Aziraphale sees the Metatron. He's suddenly distracted. His response is brief, and odd. Just --- "Yes." We don't often see our Angel speechless. He walks away without another word. That. Is another out of character moment. He's gone from his "I'm having so much fun doing this" smile to the fake, nervous mask he puts on for the Archangels.

His eyes are wide and his expression frozen, until it fades into worry as he walks away. Azi nervously checks behind him for Crowley. Hoping he'll follow, away from danger.

Crowley hasn't spotted the Metatron yet. It's not until he starts to follow Azi, then stops for Nina, that he's at the right angle to see him. When Nina says, "You been together long?" Crowley's completely distracted. He just noticed the Metatron.

"Who?" he ridiculously asks. This made zero sense -- Azi was just here! However, on our far right, over her shoulder, we can see the Metatron, facing sideways towards our right. He and the orange-shirt man are on the far right, positioned as if talking to each other (maybe he's asking how this coffee-selection-thing works?).

Because he's facing sideways, we can tell that this man is not slender like the man with a cell phone and blue bag. The man we see now, in this photo, wears a long coat that comes straight down in the front. It's not a jacket, it's an overcoat.

The Metatron is almost the same height as the orange-shirt man. His dark coat nearly makes him invisible as the reflections in the window break up his outline and blur the orange-shirt man. The two have stepped back from the counter, closer to us. We can see his rounded back, white collar and hair.

Short height, rounded back, long overcoat, white collar. NOT the same as the first man we saw. That's why I believe we're seeing the Metatron. That, and Aziraphale and Crowley's strange behaviors.

When you look closely at Crowley, he's staring intently into the coffee shop window as Nina asks her question. His head is not at the same angle when he returns his focus to her. It's not just the cute little neck scrunch -- he literally turned his head slightly to his right to look at her and answer her question. Crowley is concentrating on what he saw inside, and is mentally scrambling.

After Crowley says, "Who?" the camera returns to Nina. "You and your partner," she clarifies. Meanwhile, the Metatron has turned and is now standing at the end of the coffee line.

You can see three men in line, facing the counter, with the orange-shirt man in the middle. He's the colorful backdrop to frame the padded shoulders of the Metatron's dark coat.

Nina does a lot of "patter" here, a classic magician's Misdirection technique. Lots of rapid, distracting questions. They keep our own minds as occupied as they do Crowley's -- we struggle to keep up, and share our demon's outrage about Azi as "a bit on the side!"

I had to do a lot of reduced videoplay speed, constant pausing the frames, and careful photo brightening and sharpening to make these images somewhat clear. There are also frames where the reflection of vehicles and passersby’s obscure our view. The distractions come and go. It's all designed to split our focus.

So I was astonished when I discovered that, in the moment where the Metatron is standing alone, not clustered with anyone else, Nina is almost looking DIRECTLY AT THE CAMARA. It's only a moment. It's the only shot I had, of Dozens(!) of micro-moments, where the Metatron is in full view, although still difficult to see. This is how it looks in the episode.

Here's the same photo, brightened and sharpened for definition.

There is almost nothing on the right side to reflect or distract in this moment. The lighting effects allowed a much clearer view.

Nina goes back inside, and has to deal with a busy line and a new customer, a posh older gentleman in an overcoat. One who doesn't know about human coffee shops or how to place an order, and who probably consulted orange-shirt guy for coffee-selection advice. He's confused, he's asking odd questions... She doesn't have time for this...! So when he comes back the next day, she warns him not to do it again -- "Order accurately and fast..." (For more thoughts on this, see The Metatron's Second Coming)

Meanwhile, Crowley stands there bewildered as worry sets in. The Metatron is dangerous. Why is he here? This could be very bad for them both, but especially for Aziraphale. Crowley's main concern in the conversation was to SAY NOTHING that gave away their relationship. "Just... an angel... I know."

(**There's interesting implications about the Final Fifteen if Crowley is concerned that the Metatron has the ability to hear him from inside the shop. Azi often gestures as if the Metatron could hear them from outside.)

Crowley leaves in the opposite direction. I wonder if he hung around near the cafe, monitoring where the Metatron was. That's why he's morose and worried when Azi returns to the cafe (see more in my post Ineffables In Check). Crowley is also now worried that Gabriel is actually NOT memory-less. Is he there to spy on them for the Metatron? Crowley aggressively tries to find out.

He'll do Whatever It Takes to protect his Angel.

Please check out the rest of my 8-part Chess Moves Theory Set at @wistfulnightingale to see how I believe all the moments fit together in this Life or Death Chess Game. The 8 Parts support each other -- I broke a massive idea into parts, and you'd need to read all 8 before you can decide for sure if I'm wrong, or totally bonkers! It's a crazy ride, and I'll be happy to have you along for it!

The 8 Chess Moves MetaTheory Set:

1 - The Metatron Misdirection

2 - The Metatron's Second Coming

3 - Ineffables in Check

4 - A Hefty Jigger of Death

5 - Nothing Lasts Forever

6 - The Circle Kiss Theory

7 - The Nightingale DID Sing

8 - Aziraphale's Jubilant Smile (Not the crazy elevator grin)

Also: The Chess Moves Theory Set, Why Chess & Magic?

[gu6chan]

maybe its sample bias but i think it's kinda funny how most people I've seen who've played drakengard because of nier are making ending e THE endgoal and more often than not the main if not only reason they're playing the game at all and when they finally get it they're like "this is it the single most impactful, greatest moment of all gaming. im wiping tears from my eyes this is it" and then you see the drakengard fans who've played drakengard because they like drakengard and you ask them about ending e and they're like "eh. it was okay, i guess"

[alteredphoenix]

As glad as I am that BG3 is being positively received, I hope subsequent patches later on down the road allow you to establish friendships with your companions and allow you the option to leave them at just that while giving you to be able to pursue beyond them into consensual romance, because if I ever get around to trying it out for myself I am not going to look forward to having my PC get sexually harassed over and over and over again until the NPC finally takes no for an answer and backs off.

[steviescrystals]

i’m fr gonna lose my mind :)

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

[heavenlyraindrops]

☆ “ɪ’ᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴇᴇʟ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ.” | ᴋᴇɴᴊɪ ꜱᴀᴛᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ☆

☆ She said “fuck me like I’m famous”| Chapter one

☆ Warnings: fem!reader, afab!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering, awkward!reader, reader is literally a hermit, no established relationship, not proofread, porn with like a drop of plot, they get slightly awkward after doing it but it’s ok <3 ☆ Word Count: 3.3k | Available on Tumblr & AO3

“Out? For dinner?”

You tore your eyes from your phone to look at Ami, who was watching Chiho roll around on the floor, immersed in whichever new game of pretend she had devised.

“Yes, dinner,” she repeated, then turned to look at you. “I’m meeting a… friend. Not a close one, but a friend nonetheless. And it would do you some good to meet new people, and to get out more.” She raked her eyes over you, from your baggy clothes to messy updo. 

“What’s that meant to mean? I get out plenty often. I’m out right now with you, aren’t I?”

“‘Chilling out’ at my house twice every week isn’t exactly going out, [name],” she sighed, rolling her eyes as she stood up, stepping towards the kitchen. “You’re like a hermit.”

You furrowed your brows together. “Maybe that’s how I like it.”

You heard water trickling as it filled up her glass, and her voice drift down towards where you were sitting. “I tend to wonder if I’m your only friend.”

At those words you stiffened, eyes opening wide and shooting up, back straight. “What? Friends?” You spluttered. “I have friends. I have plenty of friends. You’re not my only friend.” The words tumbled out of you hastily, and then you paused, flashing her a charming smile, trying to distract her. “You’re just my favourite one!”

She rolled her eyes as she sat back down. “Well, you have awful taste.” She handed you a drinks can. Your favourite.

“Hardly,” you uttered

“Just- you focus on work too much, okay? You need to find balance.” She took your palm, uncurling your fingers and placing the cold can in your hand. “Just come to this dinner.”

“…Fine.” You dug your finger under the tab, trying to get it open. “Who even is this friend, anyways?”

“Kenji Sato.”

You stared at her.

She must have mistaken your silence and blank stare for shock, or stupor instead of a reaction to what you considered to be an underwhelming statement, because she just sat back, letting her words sink in. They did, not that they meant much to you.

“Who?” You said blankly.

She blinked, then leaned forward. “Uh, Ken Sato? The really famous baseball player?”

You took a slow sip of the drink- the carbonation danced on your tongue. “No idea who that is. I don’t follow baseball.”

“You don’t follow anything,” she pointed out. “You’re completely out of the loop.”

You threw your hands in the air, exasperated. “Just- look, is he someone I should be impressed with? Like, am I-“

“I’ve mentioned him once,” Ami cut in. “Played in the States, moved to Japan suddenly? I was wondering why, and mentioned it to you?” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you weren’t listening.”

“No no, I was,” you said quickly, then frowned, furrowing your brow. “Wait, didn’t you interrogate him, once? Twice?”

“Thrice,” she corrected you. “And it's called an interview, not an interrogation.”

“Same thing,” you said indignantly, with another gulp of ice cold carbonated sugar. “And you’re sure he’s just a friend.” You eyed her, testing her for any telltale signs on her face suggesting otherwise.

She simply stared at you, unimpressed. “Yes.”

“Okay,” you said, stretching out the vowel, rolling it along your tongue. You stopped. “Okay, fine, I’ll come to your dinner thing.”

“Yes!” She said, sounding a bit too relieved. You stared at her. “Sorry, it’s just- I’m so glad you’re finally-“ she cut off with an excited, pleased noise. 

You looked at her, concern for yourself creeping into your expression. “Am I really that-“

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Now, please put some effort into your appearance tomorrow night-“

“Tomorrow night?”

“Yes, do you have plans?” She didn’t wait for an answer, because she already knew it. “No? Thought so. Please put some effort into your appearance tomorrow night, because it’ll be worth it.”

“Uh huh,” you said slowly.

“I wonder if you even remember how to behave in a social setting,” she mused, and you smacked her shoulder. 

That night when you got home and flopped down on your bed, pulling out your phone, your finger hovered over the search bar.

What was his name?

Kenji Sato.

You were typing in the words before you even realized it, and seeing the images, you froze.

Oh. 

Shoving down any sort of deranged thoughts that could have been formulating in your head, you buried your face into your pillow and tried to fall asleep.

-

“[name]!”

“Ami!” You stuttered. Ami came towards you, eyes lighting up as she took in your appearance.

“You look really different,” she said, taking in your appearance. “Really pretty.”

You didn’t often wear clothes that were form-fitting or flattered your figure, but you’d decided that since it was a dinner with basically a celebrity, you might as well have put in some extra effort into your looks. 

“Thanks,” you said, as she led you through the restaurant doors and to your table. Pausing, she turned to look at you. 

“You look sick,” she frowned. “And nervous.” She clicked her tongue. “Maybe this really was a bad idea. I should have know you can’t handle-“

“No!” You almost burst out. “No, I mean, I can do this. It’s not that big a deal. I’m just meeting a new person, right?” 

She nodded hesitantly, still frowning at you.

“Right. So, not a big de-“

“Hey, Ami.”

You froze, shoulders stiffening.

“Kenji.” Ami turned to him. You still hadn’t looked at him yet, eyes fixed desperately on Ami’s face. “This is [name]. Name, this is-“

“Ken Sato.” He held out his hand to you, to shake. You stared at his long fingers, then slowly looked up to his face. He was wearing this easy, charming grin. Your knees almost buckled. “I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

You grabbed his hand and shook it. “N-nice to meet you.” You both held your stare a few seconds longer than you needed to. 

He raised a dark brow, and you could have sworn his expression had flickered with amusement before he turned back to Ami. “And here I was worried I was late.” He waved you both on towards the table, where you took your seats.

Ami was looking at you, frowning. You gave her a wobbly smile back. 

Oh, fuck this.

-

“So, what did you say you work as, [name]?” 

Kenji’s voice snapped you out of your haze, and you looked up at him, eyes widening. “Oh, I’m an, uh, I’m an author.” You stared hard at your food, then looked back up at him to gauge his reaction. 

He just leaned back against his chair. “Cool.” His eyes were set on yours. You flushed. “What sort of stuff do you write?”

“Uh,” your eyes slid to Ami, who was looking at you expectantly. “Romance, mostly.” The confession made your cheeks burn but you were too much of a mess to lie smoothly, not that it had even occurred to you in the first place- and Ami would have teased you about it later.

But Kenji just formed a small ‘o’ with his mouth, then smirked. “That’s cute.”

“Is it?” You had to fight to not make your voice sound like a squeak. He just nodded, taking a bite of his food like it was nothing. 

He’d said it so casually that Ami hadn’t even noticed, instead pouring herself more of her drink and commenting on how Kenji had healed up. You blinked, confused, and turned as he held his arm out, flexing it.

“Yeah, quicker than I thought,” he said. You could see the faint outline of his muscles through the fabric and were so prepared to just jump out the window, then and there. He must have caught you staring because, without turning his head, he locked eyes with you and fucking winked.

You bit your lip, rubbing your thighs together and trying to ignore every instinct in your body screaming at you to throw yourself across the table. “You got hurt?”

He dropped his arm back to his side, rolling his shoulder. “Yeah. It’s fine now though.”

You didn’t press any farther, just eating your food in flushed silence, trying to ignore the burning you could feel in between your thighs. 

-

“How’d you get here, [name]?” Ami asked. You stared desperately at your phone screen.

“Cab,” you muttered, rubbing your hand on the back of your neck. The app was empty. “But there aren’t any available.”

You checked the time. Half past eleven. You shivered, the night air biting at your skin. Ami looked at you, concerned. “Should I drop you?”

“No. No.” Guilt ate away at your gut. “No, you need to get home to Chiho, and I’m in the completely opposite direction- it’s not worth it.” You stepped back, and you could feel Kenji look over your shoulder at your screen. He leaned down to your level, breath warm on your ear. You shivered again, but not from the cold. “I’ll just wait until something shows up.”

“What’s your address?” He tilted his face slightly towards you, before pulling away. You stared at him, then frowned at him slightly, opening your mouth to reply, but Ami cut in.

“Look, I-“ she glanced at her watch. “I really need to go.” She pursed her lips. “I’m sorry, [name].”

You waved her off. “Don’t be.”

And she was gone, her car rolling off. You looked back at Kenji, and quickly tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, mumbling your address.

He tapped something into his phone, and his face twisted into a satisfactory grin. “It’s on the way to mine. So I’ll just drop you.” He started walking down the street.

You stumbled after him. “Oh- are you- are you sure?”

He turned, walking backwards, in the same direction but facing you know as he shrugged, grinning. “Why not? Better than waiting around in the cold for a ride.”

“R-right.” 

He led you to where a motorbike was parked, and you blinked. “You rode here on a motorcycle?”

He shrugged his blue biker’s jacket off, and without warning, draped it over your shoulders. “Yeah. Surprised?”

“I… don’t know.” Your face was burning at the action. “Are you sure…” you fiddled with the hem of his jacket.

He waved his hand at it dismissively. “Take it. You look cold.”

You fell silent. Then: “I don’t have a helmet.”

He reached into a compartment, pulling one out. “Spare. For situations like this, I guess. Comes in handy.”

“Situations like this?” You echoed, as he stepped towards you, setting the helmet down over your head and fastening it tight. Your heart was going a million miles a minute.

“When I have to make sure a pretty girl like you gets home, obviously,” he said casually, but the look on his face betrayed his nonchalant tone. He clambered onto the bike. “Come on, then. Get on.”

You blinked, face burning even harder than before, but did as he told you to. 

-

“Thanks. For taking me home, I mean.” 

He looked up at you as you pulled the helmet off your head, imitating the action himself. A strand of hair fell in front of his forehead. “Don’t think about it,” he shrugged, and your grip on the helmet tightened as you clutched it to your chest. 

“Oh, but I will.” You dropped your voice to a husky whisper, and watched his jaw clench. Oh thank you god, I remember how to flirt. Kind of. 

Now it was his turn to become flustered, as he gave you another grin, shaky this time. “Really?” He asked, voice hoarse. You stepped back, towards your house.

“You should come inside,” you suggested. “It’s not that late.”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s almost midnight,” he laughed, but didn’t object to your offering, licking his lips nervously. You paused your walk up towards your front door, turning and looking at him expectantly. 

“Oh, fuck this,” he muttered, abandoning the bike and walking towards you. Your stomach exploded into a flurry of butterflies as you both hurried towards your front door. 

-

You bit back a whimper as his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with a hunger you hadn’t been met with before. The door hadn’t even shut before his hands were on your waist, dragging you close to him- and then it was, and he pinned you against it, your back pressing into the ridges of the wood. 

He pulled away, both of your breathing ragged as he pressed his forehead against yours, eye contact unwavering. He cursed under his breath. “Sorry- I should have- I should have asked.”

You were barely able to move your mouth, shaking your head lightly. “It’s fine,” you breathed, and his eyes flicked back down to your lips, grip on your waist tightening. “You didn’t have to.”

“God, you’re-“ he choked on his own words. “You’re pretty.” 

You didn’t have time to respond before his mouth was capturing yours again, heat burning all over as one of his hands wandered to grip your nape, holding you steady. His teeth grazed your lip and you gasped, but he pulled away, pressing kisses all the way down your jaw and collarbone, leaving a trail of blooming bruises in his wake. His other hand fell from your waist to hip, pressing you close up against him, and heat pooled in your core. 

“Ken,” you managed to whisper weakly through the dizzying haze clouding your mind. He paused, teeth pressed against your skin, and he leaned back up to you, ghosting his lips over the shell of your ear, humming. “Are you sure this is a g-good idea?” Your voice was shaking. He frowned, pulling away, and his fingers dug into your hips. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” His voice was husky with desire, eyes trained on your every movement. You could feel his breath on your skin. You opened your mouth, searching for a reason, but couldn’t find any. He trailed his fingers down your neck, brushing over the marks, to the collar of your top, tugging at it. “Come on.”

You stumbled after him, shedding the jacket, ignoring it as it fell to the floor, and he pulled you down onto the couch with him, hands on your waist. You fell into his lap, straddling him. He grinned. “Still can’t find a reason?”

“…No.”

“Then just relax,” he told you, lips still pressed against your jaw, fingers creeping beneath the hem of your top. “Because I’m about to make you feel really good.”

At his words you bit back a moan, sucking in a harsh breath as you bit your lip, involuntarily rolling your hips against him. He hissed, tipping his head back. You were certain his hands were going to leave marks everywhere they touched, feeling them dig into your hips as you dove onto his neck, suckling and biting, anything to repay the affection he’d shown you earlier.

His hand fisted your hair, gently but firmly tugging you back and away. “Stop it,” he hissed. “Just let me do my thing, okay?”

You looked at him, confused, and slightly hurt, until he quickly pressed a reassuring kiss to your lips. “I said I’d make you feel good, so just sit back and let me, got it?”

You didn’t argue with him, not when he flipped you around so that your back was pressed against the couch, or when he sank to his knees, pushing your legs open, letting out a shaky breath as your skirt hiked right up your thighs. 

He let out a breathless laugh. “You’re wet,” he teased, his hot breath hitting your skin. He pressed a chaste kiss to your inner thigh, making you shiver, then another, each one lasting longer before the one before, leaving marks littering all over your inner thighs. You bit your lip- the mere sight of his face in between your legs was enough to get you dripping, even more than you were before, and he seemed to notice, because he let out an amused chuckle.

“Wh-what?” Your voice was broken, and hitched when he pressed his thumb to your clothed clit, sending a jolt of pleasure into your cunt. He smirked at your reaction. 

“Nothing,” he murmured, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your soaked panties, tugging them slowly down your legs. Your teeth pressed down on your bottom lip harder. His eyes flicked up to meet your expression. “What? Nervous?” 

You didn’t reply, just shaking, and he let out a slow breath, pressing his lips back against your inner thigh as his expression softened. “Don’t be, baby.” His lips curled back into his signature grin. “I told you you could relax, remember?”

You flushed, and nodded.

Without warning, he dove in, lips pressing down on your clit. You whimpered, not even enough time to react before his tongue licked a long strip up your entrance, making you twitch and spasm, throbbing pleasure aching. Your legs instinctively pulled together but he forced them back apart, tongue tracing slow patterns across your bundle of nerves, eyes hooded with lust as he watched your flinch and gasp. 

You let out a broken whimper of his name, and felt him tense under you- but he didn’t stop his movements, slipping his tongue in between your folds, stretching you out with his fingers. You bucked your hips, but he grabbed your hip with his other hand, pinning you down to keep you from moving. “Shhh,” he whispered, his low voice sending vibrations into your core. You let out a desperate moan- it took everything in you to not desperately start grinding against his face. He chuckled slightly at your pitiful state, turning his attention back to your dripping cunt, slipping a finger inside. Your back arched, hand flying to your mouth to clamp over it. A finger slipped inside, curling to hit that sweet spot- you almost saw stars.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, screwing your eyes shut. “I think I’m gonna cum-“

He simply hummed at your words, the vibrations of his voice sending another shockwave through you, lapping at you like he was hungrier than before, fingers pumping in and out at a steady pace. You knew what he was saying.

Go on. Cum. 

And you did, a broken cry of his name slipping past your lips as the orgasm crashed over you, legs shaking as he drew out your high for as long as possible. And when you finally came down he pushed himself up, towards you, capturing your lips in another feverish kiss. 

You could see the shaky movements of his chest as he breathed heavily, feel his boner pressed up against you, his face flushed and burning to the touch. You pulled away. 

“Are you… shoud I…” You reached for his zipper, despite the fact your voice was heavy with fatigue but he just shook his head, laughing breathlessly.

“No, no, I… don’t worry about me.” He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I’ll just- where’s the bathroom?”

“Down the corridor, first door on the left,” you mumbled, slumping back. He stood up, adjusting your head on the couch.

“Okay, I’ll- I’ll be right back.”

You heard his footsteps hurry away and the door shut.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed, with you laying on the couch, drifting in and out of consciousness, when you heard his footsteps approach you again. You looked up at him drowsily.

“Hey.” Your voice was barely audible. “You should stay here for the night.”

He opened his mouth, but didn’t object, even when you waved him over to lay next to you. You settled on top of him, laying your head on his chest. His arm looped around your waist. 

“[name],” he muttered. You lifted your head. “Is this just a… one time thing?”

You tilted your head. “Do you want it to be?”

He frowned, then shook his head. “No. No, I don’t.”

You smiled. “Me neither.”

☆ A/N: visit either the first tag or the pinned post to find the other chapters!

[cow-smells]

Worth your While | Opla! Sanji x reader

Request: I've read that you are in the need for some Sanji request or ideas so here's one for a fic :D

The crew gets into a fight ( it can be the Navy or anither pirate crew) and the reader gets badly hit and Sanji just loses his shit seeing the person that he cared for the most getting knocked out?? I just genuinely wanna see Sanji just go ape shit on people because of it XD and maybe hiw the others in the clue will react to seeing Sanji like that? @smolracoon25

Summary: You and Sanji have been playing the flirting game for way too long. When you get injured, Sanji shows a side of himself you had yet to see.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: none

A/n: I'm going purely off the live-action so pls have that in mind, also I'm just getting back in to the rhythm of writing after such a long time so sorry if this is poop/ooc/both, love ya :)

Read on AO3

“Don't you ever take a break?”

Zoro's voice coming from behind startled you, forcing you to break your longing gaze at Sanji who was fishing at the bow of the ship. “Huh?” came your wise response.

Zoro looked from you to Sanji. “You've been making moon eyes at him for months now. Don't you get tired? Or are you waiting for him to take his shift staring at you so that you can clock off?”

You felt heat rising to your cheeks. This was far from the first time crew members commented about you and Sanji's – whatever was going on between you two – but this was the first time Zoro called you out so blatantly.

When you didn't respond, Zoro went on. “I just came to tell you we should be docking soon. I'll leave you the pleasure of telling the cook.” with that, he left.

You closed the book on your lap. You really did have the intention of reading when you first head out to the deck, having some time to kill, but then... you noticed Sanji. At first you thought you'd go sit with him for a while, flirt and banter a little as you always do, but you found yourself absorbed in taking him in instead. He was different when he was alone. The way he looked so focused, so deep in thought when it was just him and the sea. Maybe even a little sad. So different from his usual sunny exterior that he put on when he was with people. Falling in to deep thoughts wondering what he might be thinking about – maybe about you? - you sat and stared, not reading as much as a word.

The book discarded, you felt a spring in your step as you made your way to the ship's chef.

The creaking floorboards alerted your arrival. Sanji turned to see who was creeping up on him, and when he saw you, he set his fishing rod aside as a wide smile grew on his lips, his dimples deepening and making your heart miss a beat. “There's my favourite girl. Come here, let me hear all about your day.” Sanji held his arms open, beckoning you to come sit on his lap.

The flirting was nothing new. When you first joined the Strawhats, Sanji was as flirty to you as he was to any other woman; he did not expect to meet his match in you. You were quick to play along, always one-upping him, dancing along the line that separated playfulness and seriousness, never quite picking a side.

The problem was, in reality, you had chosen a side long ago.

You would flirt and giggle and make him blush but never actually act upon anything. Neither would Sanji. He, however, took your playing along as though it was a battle to be won. Sanji would flirt, you'd reply with something raunchy, he would surprise you with something heartfelt. It was as though he knew exactly where to hit in order to get you a little closer to buckling, every time. As time went on he had become so devoted to your back and forth that you noticed he had gradually abandoned all other efforts flirting with other women, to focus entirely on you.

You had to remind yourself that this was a game to him. An instinct, almost. It hurt to think of your relationship that way, but you had to keep that thought at the forefront of your mind if you didn't want to fall even harder for him.

So you would continue to play along, even if that's all that you could have with him.

You chose not to indulge him completely – that was too dangerous for you – and so you opted to bend a knee over the armrest of his chair. Close, but no contact. “Come on, Sanji,” you bent your head in what felt like a bashful manner and said, “you know I spent all day thinking of you.”

You weren't sure if he was blushing or if that was just your wishful thinking. Composing himself, Sanji wrapped an arm around you to hold your waist, lightly tracing circles on your hip. “I beg of you, darling – next time, come find me instead of just thinking of me. I'll make it worth your while.”

You wanted to ask, how will you make it worth my while? Just to hear Sanji go in to detail of what you've been fantasizing about for months. But instead, you opted for a tamer response. “I came to tell you we're docking soon. Maybe I'll find you then and you could make it worth my while with a drink.”

Without missing a beat, Sanji took hold of your hand, bringing it to his lips. “There's nothing I'd enjoy more.” With that, he kissed your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

Docking started out normal. Everyone knew what their usual chores were when you reached a town, restocking and fixing so that the ship would be in top condition for its next leg of the journey in your search for the One Piece. So while Sanji went in to town to restock on groceries (you didn't pay much attention to the others), you, Nami and Usopp stayed around the ship to fix up some of the damage it took when you last encountered a rival pirate ship. That also happened to be the reason it was just you three when the same rival pirates noticed your ship docked, ready to take their revenge.

The three of you had your individual talents, but you just weren't enough to hold up against an entire rival crew. They had attacked so suddenly and so fiercely – it didn't take long before you were on the sand, fighting to stay conscious. You lost that fight as you watched Usopp try his best to fight off three attackers at once.

You really thought that would be the end for you. You should have known better; it was Sanji's voice you heard as you regained consciousness, motivating you to open your eyes despite the pain that flooded your body.

The beach area all around you was covered with pirates who were taken down, just like you – only that they were your enemies. You first noticed Nami's orange hair – she seemed to be taking care of a bleeding Usopp, his condition worse than yours. Following Sanji's voice, you found him holding the last one of the rival crew by his shirt, throwing punches like you've never seen him before. It took you aback – thinking about it, you had never seen Sanji use his hands in combat. Too precious – need them for cooking, he'd once told you before adding, the only thing more precious to me is you. It had made you blush at the time before you had laughed him off. Now, you were questioning if it was a joke at all.

The man Sanji was holding wasn't putting up a fight – he was far too battered for that, but Sanji didn't stop. He was too far away for you to understand what he was saying to the guy, but focusing hard, you could just about make out half sentences – "to hit a woman" – "don't deserve to breath" – "finish you" – you searched for the strength to get up and stop him. You had never seen Sanji – your happy, cheerful Sanji – so angry, feral even. It scared you a little; but mostly, you knew Sanji would regret it if he were to kill a man who no longer posed a threat. So you grasped at the sand, forcing your aching bones to pick yourself up. But as you were regaining your balance, Sanji finally threw the man to the sand, a look of disgust painting his handsome features. "Finally made a date with her and you ruined it... You hurt her. You're lucky I don't kill you." The man groaned in pain.

In a sharp change, his features went from anger to concern as he finally left the man and turned to where he last saw you laying. His eyes were full of honest pain, until he saw you on your feet – then they read of hope. "Y/n!" Sanji called, rushing to you as he could see your struggle to stand upright. "You- I-" he scanned your body as he reached you, taking in all visible injuries. "Are you – are you okay? Can I help you?" he reached an arm around your waist, waiting for your approval before he held on to help you stay up, so afraid he might hurt you.

"Thanks." his arm around you really helped you to stay up. It was a practical measure, sure, any one of your crew mates would do the same – but when you look up and meet Sanji's eyes, you know that the tense feeling between you two wouldn't have been replicated with anyone else. "I mean it. You saved us. We'd... I'd be lost without you." at that, Sanji smiled that deep-dimpled smile of his at you, the playfulness not reaching his still-concerned eyes.

"Y/n," he started. "are you really flirting with me, at a time like this?"

It was strange how despite all your injuries, you felt less and less of the pain the longer you leaned in to Sanji, close enough to smell his fragrance. A half-smile reached your lips. You couldn't play this game any longer. "Did you really beat that guy up that bad because he ruined what should have been our... date?"

Sanji tensed, obviously not ready to have this conversation now. His gaze dropped momentarily before he wrapped his other arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him. "I had a hundred reasons to kill him," Sanji said, and you felt disappointment bubbling through you until he continued, "but the most pressing reason is that he ruined our date."

Sanji took the opportunity to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear and you couldn't help but smile so big you were embarrassed by it. "I really wanted that drink with you, away from the ship and everyone else. Just us."

You recomposed yourself. You needed clarity. "I'm not playing anymore, Sanji."

Sanji chuckled. "Fancy that. I was never playing at all."

You must have forgotten how to breath at all when he leaned down, his hand finding a rest on your neck as his thumb caressed your cheek. Nearly a whisper, he asked – "Can I kiss you?"

You leaning in served as the consent he searched for. After months of pining over each other, wondering what it would be like – his lips met yours, in a mixture of softness and passion like you'd never felt before. Forgetting you were injured at all you sneaked your arms around his neck, pulling him in, almost afraid of letting this anticipated moment of passion go. Sanji was more than happy to pull closer, a hand on your lower back holding you impossibly close to him.

The moment did, however, find its end as you heard your Captain whoop and holler from afar. "Yeah! Way to go, Sanji! About damn time!"

Breaking the kiss, Sanji nodded at Luffy, his smile lines prominent as he looked the proudest you'd ever seen him.

The crew was more than happy to make a quick exit that night, preferring to not stay around until the rival crew regained their strength. You were helping Nami untie the ropes anchoring the ship to the dock when she said, "I really thought he was going to kill him earlier." you didn't know how to respond. "I've never seen Sanji like that." Nami managed to untie a knot, and Zoro began pulling the rope up on to the ship. "He's really got it bad for you."

Despite that questionable context, you couldn't help but smile. In a burst of honesty you confessed; "I hope so, because I've got it real bad for him, too."

On cue, the ship's chef leaned over the ships railing, looking down to you. "Y/n, my love!" he called, as though the rest of the crew wasn't surrounding the both of you. "I hope you're finished down there, because I've got a candlelit dinner waiting for you up here. And drinks. You know, to make it worth your while," he finished with a wink.

From behind Sanji you could hear Luffy ask, "What about our dinner? Just because you're lovers now doesn't mean we don't need to eat..."

Sanji sighed and turned away from you, probably to go protect your dinner before Luffy demolished it.

"Right then, let's go," Nami said as you finished untying the last rope. "While there's still food to eat."

And for the first time, you boarded your ship not to find the One Piece or the All Blue – you were just happy to be there, with the man you loved.

[reshinless]

Kinich x fem! Reader childhood friends to lovers please? Some backstory of Kinich's childhood and reader being the only one who can give him great comfort

back when we were younger - grentperez ,, childhood lovers w/ kinich. purely fluff/romance.

when you both were younger, it'd often be just the two of you after the other kids went to their parents, or at least elsewhere. so you'd ask him things others usually wouldn't.

"hey, you!" your small figure suddenly showed up in the corner of his eye, he turned his head. "wanna play with me?" you took a seat beside him on the grass, the sun seemed like it was about to set, you both didn't have too much time left but... no harm in playing he supposed.

as you explained your little card game to him, you were honestly super proud, it was a game somewhat similar to the TCG you see nowadays in teyvat.

as much as he lost to you at first, he ended up winning right before he had to go. you waved him off with a soft genuine smile as he did the same in a more shy manner.

he always found comfort in anything you did for him. the time you spent with him, the effort you put into making him feel better after having lost to you, or those moments where he started to doubt his strength.

you made that same spot the place you both would always meet up at for years to come. always playing the same game and talking about hopes and dreams, but that was honestly mostly you. he liked hearing you talk.

he also liked other stuff about you though, like those moles on your thighs. or the acne that grew onto your face that one time, maybe even the times you've scolded him as you both grew into adults.

"kinich... you know we talked about this! stop being so careless!" you huffed and crossed your arms, the number of times you've scolded him over this, you still smacked his head like you did back when you'd win your little game.

"i know. 'm sorry." that day he was revived by the pyro archon, mavuika, acknowledging his strength and passion for his nation.

but.. why was he still surprised when you suddenly reached out to hug him? you've been friends for years, this should be nothing. he should be able to reciprocate it easy peasy... right?

yet it felt like his body was stuck, frozen even. your warmth quickly melted his cold exterior, causing him to shed a few tears. someone was worried about him. you slightly tackle him back down onto the grass.

"don' cry kin', i just- I don't want you to get hurt. I believe in your strength," you wipe off a few of his tears as you pull away from his arms. "but I don't want you to stop coming home... I don't want you to stop playing with me. you've made so many friends with me, we're supposed to be a package deal."

every word you uttered, you started to cry too. he brings you back into a hug.

ever since that day, he's tried to lessen the times he's had to die, but only further strengthening his will to fight and live to see another day. or more like to see you again.

it's been another two years since your little speech to him. you're finally already his significant other, and somewhat keeping it away from those who weren't close to you both.

before he could finally go home to you, he swung by the very same place you both would play your card game. tracing his fingertips on the wall nearby, looking at each of your scores back when you'd score them anyway.

"you wanted to come by here too, huh?" he turned his head almost immediately at the voice, he could recognize your tone from anywhere. you rounded a corner to take a look at the long list of tallies on the stone wall.

"you know, i always felt like we were something back then." you hum as you crouch to look at the measurements of heights for each year you both got older.

"pretty, you are aware we've been together for two years now, right?" "don't ruin our moment kin'!"

a small voice emits from nothingness; "can you two lovebirds keep it down?! a king needs his beauty sleep y'know?!"

"oh shut it, will you?!"

[barcaatthemoon]

silence || lia walti x reader ||

lia doesn't think you'll come to her game while the two of you are fighting.

you hated the quiet, but you were stubborn. lia was mad at you for something, an old fight that was rehashed a few days ago. you didn't seem to get the message, so lia had left last night. there was no note, no call or text. lia packed up an overnight bag and made her way to leah's to get ready for the game. you didn't even know if lia wanted you to come, but you were going to anyway.

this game was big, and even if you weren't there for just lia, you'd go to support the friends you had made on the arsenal team. as a kid, you had played on the youth team, but eventually gave it up for a coaching career. you had spent years learning in america coaching a college team before you came back to london to take a position at a team a league down from arsenal.

you loved your job, occasionally too much. you put in way more time and effort than what was required of you to do so. lia wanted you to take a step back and relax a little, but you couldn't. that was probably the root of the fight, and regrettable things were said on both ends. neither you nor lia were innocent in this fight. you knew that you had to apologize, but you weren't sure if lia would feel the same way and that was where your apprehension came in.

it was easy enough to find your seat in the friends and family section. you always sat in the same place, generally next to the same people. since today was a big day, you found yourself sandwiched between katie's and alessia's mothers. you liked the two women, who definitely doted on you a little whenever they saw you.

sometimes, you'd sit with lia's family when they came down, but you doubted that they'd want to see you. lia had to have told someone what was going on, so you stayed in your seat. you tried to keep to your best behavior in order to not attract attention. you knew how lia could be after big fights, and the last thing you wanted to do was distract her with such a big game hanging over her head. to a lot of people, it was just another game, but you knew that a loss here would knock them out of any major tournament play chances.

"(y/n), lia said you weren't coming today." you hated how surprised alessia looked as she saw you. you rubbed the back of your neck as you awkwardly shifted your weight between your feet. "i thought you were out of town."

"is that what she told you?" you asked. alessia shook her head, but you didnt miss the guilty look on her face. "i should probably go. good job today less, that was a great goal."

you quickly shoved all of your things in your bag and tried to make a quick exit when you walked right into lia. she had her back to you, so she didn't notice who it was until you were speeding past her. the conversation with her parents was immediately cut short to chase after you, genuinely not having believed that you'd try to come see her play after the week of silence between the two of you.

lia knew that you hated not talking to her, but you wouldn't open up communication until she did. whether it was you being stubborn or just not knowing how, lia wasn't completely sure. she knew that you had a hard time opening up to anybody, and that sometimes it was easiest to give you space to work things out on your own. lia also knew that she had really hurt your feelings during your last argument, and that it was best if she didn't accidentally say something to make it worse.

"i'm really happy that you showed up," lia said as she grabbed onto your wrist. you stopped moving the moment that she touched you. "i missed you last night and this morning. are we okay?"

"yeah, i think so," you told her. lia let out a sigh of relief as she pulled you into a hug. you melted against her body, leaning heavily into her embrace. "will you come home tonight?"

"only if you're sure that you want me back. i am really sorry for what i said and for ignoring you. you'd never expect me to put my job on the backburner for you, and i can't expect you to do the same for me," lia apologized. after the week that you had, you easily would have done anything that lia wanted you to. luckily, she realized that you were living your dream the same way that she was.

"i'm sorry that i've been distant. i'll be better," you promised. lia smiled as she cupped your cheeks and leaned in to kiss you. you kissed her back eagerly, hoping to make up for all of the kisses that you had missed out on because of the fighting. "go back and celebrate with your team, i'll pick up something for dinner."

"no, come celebrate with us. i don't want to celebrate without you there too."

[catmiemy]

Not Work Day (Aitana Bonmatí x Reader)

Summary: Aitana and you spend a rare day off together.

A/N: This is just a silly little story I thought of a while ago and finally wrote in hopes of getting into more of a writting mood again. So many ideas and so little ability to put them on 'paper' lately...

I hope you enjoy this one! :)

Dating a professional football player wasn’t always easy. Whenever you mentioned that to anyone they usually assumed you referred to your girlfriend having to travel a lot or the lack of days off together because of conflicting schedules, or the interest the nosey media and even nosier public had in your relationship.

And sure, all of these things could be tricky at times, but there was something else that was even harder to bear; seeing your girlfriend being worked to the ground with almost no time to recuperate properly. Before you started dating Aitana you had never thought much about it, now it haunted you during the days and disturbed your dreams.

Every new injury you heard about made your stomach drop, always wondering the same thing, what if next time it would be your girlfriend going down with some horrible injury? The guilt always followed close behind, with your berating yourself for being happy in any capacity that someone else got hurt.

More often than not it was a struggle to watch Aitana’s games. You had a tendency to clench every single muscle in your body until the final whistle was blown, and you could be sure that nothing bad had happened.

For a while you did your best to keep these concerns to yourself, not wanting to make Aitana worry about you unnecessarily. Convinced that if you just wanted it enough, you would get over this.

You should have known that your girlfriend would catch on; she was too perceptive not to notice it, too concerned about your well-being to miss it.

When she did you explained somewhat reluctantly what was bothering you; the last thing you wanted was for your girlfriend to feel guilty. This wasn’t her fault at all and she shouldn’t feel bad about playing the sport she loved.

Despite your best efforts to downplay it, the first thing you saw in Aitana’s eyes once you finished your explanation was guilt. Most likely because you were looking for that emotion specifically, but in that moment you couldn’t think rationally like this. You were about to apologize, try and take it back somehow, when she asked you one simple question.

“Is there anything we can do to make you feel better about it?”

Up until that point it had never occurred to you to think about possible ways to make the situation easier for yourself. Usually your thoughts had been centered around scolding yourself for being such a worrywart. It made you oddly emotional that Aitana took you this seriously and didn’t dismiss your concerns.

Neither of you found a satisfying answer to the question that night, but over time you came up with something that helped, a tradition that you called ‘not work days’. 

On one of these ‘not work days’ you were awoken by Aitana trying to get up. Without opening your eyes you reached out to grab her wrist and pull her back into bed. You were met by some resistance, forcing you to open your eyes and scowl at the brunette.

“Hey, you work or not work?” You asked, leaving no room for interpretation what the correct answer was.

Aitana rolled her eyes at you, but relented, snuggling back into you much to your delight. You wrapped your arms around her and buried your face in her shoulder.

“I’m never going to be free of that stupid phrase, am I?” She grumbled.

“Nope,” you agreed, “And now hush, it’s way too early to be up on a not work day.”

You felt some lingering tenseness in your girlfriend’s body, apparently she wasn’t fully ready yet to commit to resting some more. It was time to pull out your magic weapon; you began gently tracing small circles in the space between Aitana’s eyebrows. It worked like a charm. Within seconds the brunette fell back asleep and you let yourself drift off as well.

The next time you woke up it was on your own accord, like you hoped it would be. Usually when you managed to get your girlfriend back to sleep she didn’t wake up again until late in the morning. In your mind a clear indication that the Spaniard needed this extra rest.

You allowed yourself to linger in bed a little longer to hold Aitana in your arms and watch her sleep. It was rare for her to be still if she was awake, always moving around, busy with one thing after another.

Mostly the midfielder loved it and was happy with her life, but sometimes it became all too much. She had confided in you a while back that being with you had helped her to finally find a healthy balance in her life. That was without a doubt the biggest compliment anyone had ever given you.

After a few more minutes you placed a soft kiss on your girlfriend’s forehead, before carefully extracting yourself and moving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. Breakfast in bed was a staple of the not work days..

You hummed happily to yourself while you made an omelet, mixed a smoothie and cut up some cherry tomatoes. And of course you couldn’t forget about the coffee! When everything was ready you walked back to the bedroom, ready to wake up Aitana with some gentle cuddles.

However, your plan was thwarted. You opened the door and instantly spotted your girlfriend on her cell phone. This in itself wasn’t a problem, but the way she had crunched up her nose and her eyebrows were knitted together, revealed to you that she was most likely looking at something work related. She looked too stressed for this to be anything else.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, “This is a not work day!”

You expected the Catalan to smile at you apologetically, instead a huge grin appeared on her face and she turned her phone around. It took a moment until you realized why she had done that; your girlfriend was recording the entire interaction and apparently she thought this was hilarious.

“Haha, very funny,” you grumbled, “I really thought you were working already.”

“I know, you should have seen your face,” Aitana replied between laughter, “Oh wait, you can. Come over here, mi amor.” She patted the bed next to her, but you remained standing. You would have crossed your arms, but the breakfast tray was stopping you from doing so.

“Don’t be like that, mi amor. I’m only giving back what you’ve been handing out. Or do I have to remind you how often you’re sending me that stupid ‘You work or not work’ video? How you even added some cute animal pictures to the beginning of it, so I wouldn’t recognize right away what clip it is? You violated the sanctity of cute animal pictures!”

The midfielder sounded so scandalized by this that you couldn’t help but crack a smile. You shuffled over to the bed, leaning over to give your girlfriend a good morning kiss. Just like you hoped this successfully distracted her from the stupid video she had recorded because you had no interest in watching it. You were admittedly better at teasing than being teased.

“So what’s the plan for today?” Aitana asked, tucking into her breakfast. “This is so good by the way.”

“No plans, we just do whatever you want to do,” you responded, deliberately ignoring her praise. Dealing with compliments also wasn’t one of your strengths.

“Whatever I want?” The Catalan asked with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes. “Everything that’s within the rules of not work days,” you clarified.

“But coming up with ideas is work too,” your girlfriend complained.

“My poor baby! Okay, here are some ideas; we can bundle up on the couch and watch a movie, we can make cookies, we can take a walk in the rain…”

“Yes! Let’s take a walk in the rain,” Aitana interrupted, her choice surprising you. The midfielder wasn’t known for liking the rain, in fact she made no secret of how much she hated the rain.

“Really?” You double-checked.

Your girlfriend nodded, “Yeah, you made it sound so romantic a few days ago. Both of us under one umbrella, the rain pattering on it, huddling close together for warmth. Sounds like a movie scene.”

“Okay then, let’s do it.”

The two of you got ready, Aitana putting on much more clothes than you. Normally you would tease your girlfriend about it, but you didn’t want to risk her remembering the video she had taken earlier.

In the beginning the walk was actually romantic. The sound of the pitter patter on the umbrella was soothing, especially with how quiet and deserted the roads were. You breathed in deeply, savoring the smell of rain. Aitana was snuggling into your side and when you looked over she had a soft smile on her lips.

Before too long however, you noticed that your girlfriend clung a little too strongly to you and she was dragging her feet. This time when you glanced her way you were met by an unhappy expression, though it quickly morphed into a forced smile as soon as Aitana noticed your eyes on her.

You pulled her to a stop. “What is it, babe?”

“My feet are wet,” the Catalan whined.

Your eyes snapped to her feet. Your girlfriend was wearing her favorite and already pretty worn sneakers. It wasn’t really surprising that they weren’t able to withstand the rain anymore.

“Then let’s go back home,” you stated, already turning around and tugging Aitana’s hand to follow you.

“No, I don’t want to ruin this.”

You turned to face the midfielder again, cupping her cheek with your free hand.

“And I don’t want you to be miserable, or worse get sick. And anyway this is your not work day, so you should only do things you’re enjoying.”

Aitana nuzzled slightly into your palm, smiling up at you. “Okay, but I disagree, it’s our not work day.”

You walked back rapidly to your apartment and when you got there you sent the brunette to the bedroom with the instruction to change into something comfy and get rid of her wet socks.

“Don’t put on other ones though! I have something for you,” you added.

A few minutes later you met Aitana back at the couch, a cup of tea in one hand and the other one hidden behind your back. Your girlfriend craned her neck, trying to sneak a peek, but you didn’t allow it.

“Show meeeee,” the Catalan begged.

You followed the request, showing her the fluffy socks you had bought a while back. A huge smile spread across Aitana’s face as she saw them.

“They look so comfortable. Thank you! But how did you know I would need them?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I didn’t. I just bought them randomly for a not work day. It’s pure luck that you got wet feet today.”

“Or maybe this was all part of an elaborate evil plan to get me to undress my feet in front of you,” Aitana joked.

“You got me there. That’s why I raved about walks in the rain and that’s why I suggested it this morning. I even sabotaged your shoes,” you explained with a serious face.

Your girlfriend giggled happily. “I guess in that case you’ve earned the right to put on the new socks and give me a foot rub afterwards,” she said, sticking her feet out towards you.

“How generous of you!” You exclaimed, quickly putting on the fluffy socks.

Then you went to sit down next to Aitana to give her the requested foot rub, but you stopped in your tracks when you saw the midfielder glaring at you.

“Everything okay?” You asked uncertainly.

“No!” The brunette cried out, making your heart beat faster; what had you done wrong? “I need you to change into comfortable clothes as well. This doesn’t look like a good outfit to relax in.”

You looked down yourself and only now realized that you were still wearing jeans. “Oh, I guess you’re right.”

Before you got a change to move away, Aitana caught your hand and pulled you in for a kiss. “Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t realize it would actually make you anxious,” she apologized. “And now go, I need my girlfriend to warm me up.”

You were happy to oblige, hurrying to the bedroom.

“And can you bring the laptop back with you? I’m in the mood for some online shopping,” Aitana shouted after you.

You were happy to do so since it signified that your girlfriend had fully gotten into the swing of the not work day. It was always the same; in the beginning she didn’t know what she wanted to do, but as time progressed the midfielder became more attuned to her own desires that she so often put on the back burner.

On your return you handed Aitana the laptop before plopping down by her feet, taking them in your lap for the promised foot rub. You hadn’t even started yet, when your girlfriend let out a surprise “Oh”, pulling her feet back and scooting closer to you instead.

“What are these?” She asked, showing you the screen with your last internet search. It had completely slipped your mind what you had been looking at the day before.

“Dresses,” you offered up dryly.

“Yeah, I can see that. Any special occasion?” Aitana probed.

“You know the answer to that. It’s not every day you get to accompany your girlfriend to an award show for the best football players in the world,” you replied nervously; although you didn’t know why you felt nervous about this.

“Aw, I really appreciate that!” Your girlfriend cooed, her eyes flickering over the screen, “Can I help pick?”

You nodded; that had always been the plan. Since this was the first time you were going along as Aitana’s partner you wanted to look your best, so another opinion was definitely needed.

“Some of them are pretty expensive,” the Catalan mentioned carefully.

Money had always been a touchy subject between the two of you. Aitana had a lot more of it than you did; still you didn’t feel comfortable with constantly letting her pay, insisting that you took turns. The brunette wasn’t too happy about that, but by now you had found some middle ground, usually going to less expensive places when it was your turn to pay.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” you dismissed Aitana’s concern, “And I want to look worthy of my girlfriend. You know she’s currently the best football player in the world?”

“You sound so proud of me.”

Atiana’s voice was oddly quit; it made you wonder if she doubted that you were proud of her. You thought back to the last few games and realized with a start that you couldn’t remember the last time you had actually said these words. This way worrying, especially considering your girlfriend had a hard time believing things unless she heard them over and over again.

“That’s because I am,” you responded firmly, vowing to do better.

“Even if it makes you anxious?” The brunette wondered.

You sighed, rubbing your face. “Let’s be honest, no matter what job you had, I would always be anxious about something. That’s the annoying thing about anxiety; it’ll always find something else to worry about.”

Aitana looked up at you hopefully, “So you don’t hate that I’m a footballer?”

“What? No, of course not! And I’m sorry if I made you feel like that,” you apologized.

“Well that’s good then,” your girlfriend announced, a smirk appearing on her face, “But hey, is working out issues even allowed on a not work day? Or did you just break your own rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “Of course it’s allowed and since they’re my rules, I can change them whenever I want.”

Aitana raised her eyebrows, fighting to keep her face neutral, “Oh really, is that how it works?”

“Yes,” you nodded sagely.

A devilish grin appeared on your girlfriend’s face, and too late you recognized your mistake.

“In that case I’m making my own rules as well and decide that I get to buy you this blue dress.” She pointed to the one that was your absolute favorite, but that was also firmly out of your price range.

“Aitana,” you groaned, “That’s not how it works!”

“Oh? If you can make up random rules, so can I,” the Catalan pointed out, daring you to disagree with her.

“That’s not the same at all. I don’t want you to spend money on my clothes,” you argued

“Why not? If you think about it, I’ll get to appreciate your dress much more than you. I can admire you in it all night long, and maybe I’ll even get to take if off of you. And this dress will look stunning on you; it will really bring out your eyes.”

“Fine”, you relented, making your girlfriend squeal happily. There was one more thing to say though, so you stopped Aitana’s over the top celebration with one hand. “But this means you can only get me something small for my birthday.

“Okay,” the midfielder agreed suspiciously quickly.

“And I mean that, Tana!” You doubled down.

Your girlfriend nodded, but seemed to be only half-listening, too busy adding the dress to your cart. You would just have to bring it up again when your birthday was closer because you wouldn’t be budging on that.

After Aitana successfully ordered the dress, she leaned back with a content sigh.

“I really love these not work days, you know?”

Your heart leapt happily at that concession.  “Me too, babe.”

Sometimes you wished you got more of them, but maybe not having them all the time made them extra special.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Bratty!Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?

Word Count: 6.8 k

Warnings:

The office is silent now except for the distant sounds of movement filtering in from outside the door of people coming and going through the building. Your shirt clings in a rumpled mess to your body, sweat speckling across your limbs from that specific heat that gets shared between two bodies, euphoria still running through your veins when the man sitting beneath you speaks. “We’re not doin’ this again, so get that straight. Understand?”

You tilt your head to the side and raise a curious eyebrow, staring back into the face of your lieutenant as he gets you to your feet and grabs his shirt to throw it back over his head, covering his sweat-glistening torso. “Care to explain what you’re talking about or am I meant to just guess?” you ask with snark in your tone as you pick up the rest of your clothing off the floor.

Buttoning his pants and re-buckling his belt, he takes his time before answering as you finish and stand there impatient and agitated. “What the fuck did I say about startin’ stuff with me when I’m busy?” Lt. Riley questions back, his voice harsh. “Did ya think I was jokin’ or are ya just hell bent on gettin’ caught? Cause that’s what’s gonna fuckin’ happen if ya keep temptin’ me in the middle of the day.”

“You could turn me away,” you say with a roll of your eyes, “ever heard of self-control?”

Stepping up close to your body, the lieutenant grabs you by the chin and looks down his nose at you. “You’re too much of a distraction. And ya need to be taught a lesson, sweetheart; when I say somethin’ I fuckin’ mean it. Consider this my self-control.” 

“Oh, gonna punish me now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest as you pull your face out of his grasp with a flick of your head. “Okay, go ahead. Let’s see what you got.”

“Ya ain’t gettin’ nothin’ from me til I can be sure you’re gonna listen. You’re cut off, sweetheart, and until ya can learn, we’re done with this.” 

You hold his gaze steadfast, not intimidated in the least. If he wants to play this game, then you’ll play it, but if he thinks this is going to end the way he wants, he is going to be sorely mistaken. “Fine.” You don’t argue, there is no sense to. “Have it your way, sir. Is that all?”

You’ll have it your way soon enough. All it’ll take is patience.

He doesn’t say anything, opting to sit back in the chair behind his desk without uttering another word. It is a gross miscalculation on Lt. Riley’s part not to immediately take your acceptance if his reprimand as a giant red flag, but if he isn’t willing to put his knowledge of your competitive temperament to use then that is fully on him; he is a big boy and since he wants to talk about consequences, then he should be ready to receive his own.

You double check yourself in silence before you leave his office with a smug sense of satisfaction, though a plan isn’t in mind just yet. It doesn’t matter really, the bigger they are the harder they fall and you are confident that you can make him fold with very little effort because despite being a man of mostly mystery, you know the intimate details of what makes that 6’4” military officer weak. 

The day isn’t even over before you already have a plan in mind and it all involves one very specific item. It’s a shame you have to order it, but the time it’ll take to come in the post will work in your favor. Lt. Riley needs time to cool off, to miss his pretty thing, to let his appetite for you get ravenous again.

Patience was never your virtue unless it came to getting something you wanted, so you bore your restlessness in silence as you waited for your order to come in. You give the lieutenant his space without a fuss, letting him believe his little delusion that at any moment you’ll come crawling back ready to obey him just as he wants.

A week passes and then nearly another when finally you are gifted with your prize that comes in the evening mail that Friday. You can taste the sweetness of your retribution already as you rip into the package and pull out the smallest, tightest pair of jet black hot pants with white trim. No more keeping this body for his eyes only; if he doesn’t want to give you the attention you desire then someone else will. 

You rush to your barracks the second the day comes to a close with your package in hand; you have only a short window of time to pull your entire plan together or you’ll be forced to wait till after the weekend and you are tired of waiting. Tonight is the night that you make your lieutenant come crawling back to you and stop with this nonsense.   

The tiny swath of fabric covering your ass barely hides a damned thing from view, hugging around your hips like they are painted on and resting at the very top of your thighs so that the underside of your butt peeks out from below the hem. There is a slit that goes up the side and it is doing its job in making your legs look extra long while also showing as much skin as possible. It leaves almost nothing to the imagination for anyone who happens to look your way… and boy do you want as many eyes on you as you can get.

Let’s see him be steadfast in his resolve to teach you a lesson now.

With a head full of devious thoughts, you leave your room and head out onto base and into the oncoming night. Shoulders back and head held high you walk past the buildings with confidence on the way to your first stop of the night: the officers building. You had checked the clock just before you left, it’s nearly time now. He’ll be leaving his office soon and you need him to catch sight of you on the way to your second destination: the rec center.

How lucky it is that the lieutenant is a man of routine and so giving it another minute or two you step out in front of the building and start heading directly for the rec, though at a slower pace than usual. And sure enough, when you’re still within eyeshot, you hear the front door to the building open. 

Stepping out into the cooler evening air, Lt. Riley looks up and his sight is captured by a figure moving just up ahead in the distance. People coming and going isn’t abnormal on a military base, but what really catches his attention is the familiarity of the body and the way that body is dressed. He is stunned in his tracks because you are barely wearing anything at all with shorts that look like they’ve been painted on. Paired with the tight black tank top you’ve chosen and you might as well be naked for all the covering it does. After a good almost two weeks of no action, the man is starved…but also curious as to where the fuck you are going dressed like this. 

The best thing would have been for the lieutenant to turn tail and walk away, leave it and you alone, but as smart as Lt. Riley is when it comes to temptation the man is a goddamn fool that cannot help himself.

You are a good bit ahead by the time he takes action and decides to follow you, but he keeps the pace as heat floods his body from staring at the back of you walking away, desperately wanting to take a bite out of all that juicy meat tempting his gaze as it bounces with each sure-footed step you take. Fuck, he is a sucker for all the plump, tender parts of your body and having them on display like this is a regular buffet that he can’t help but soak up even with his nosiness into what exactly has you looking so killer. 

Those auburn eyes of his continue to follow you as you come to the front of a building and enter. Now that you are out of view, he can think more clearly and he realizes that it’s the rec center that you’ve just entered. The closer the lieutenant gets, the more he catches raucous sounds of many voices braying like a pack of crazed hounds, making him quicken his steps that match his rising blood pressure until he stands just outside the doors to peer in without being detected yet.

Through the glass doors he can see towards the back of the main room that a group of privates surrounding the single government bought pool table with cues in hand are now circling you like wolves circling a wounded deer, practically begging you to join them for a few games while he knows that its only to get you to stay longer so that they can enjoy the view. It makes his blood boil to watch them ogle you like that, getting far too close to what isn’t theirs. 

…to what belongs to him.

Standing in silence, now cloaked in darkness as night has fallen, he watches angrily as a private gets bold enough to place his hand at the small of your back just as you lean over the table to make your first shot and suddenly he is seeing red. He can barely comprehend anything through the angry haze clouding his vision, but he can feel the cold steel of the door handle in his hand as he wrenches it open and stalks inside as if he is ready to kill.   

All eyes immediately drift towards the source of the sound. You look up through a giggle to see the form of the lieutenant standing there, sharp gaze boring straight into you specifically and the man who still has his hand on you. 

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere,” that deep voice booms through the small space to quiet the rowdy bunch.

“Is there a problem, sir?” one of the more brave privates speaks up.

His sight doesn’t leave you. “Seems we need to have a chat about propriety,” he growls. “This is a military base, not a fuckin’ strip club.” 

You smirk. “I don’t know what kind of strip clubs you frequent, sir, but I can assure you that this is more clothing than most will allow.”

A few of the privates snicker behind you, impressed with your audacity to backtalk someone as imposing as the skull-masked officer and that does nothing but add fuel to the fire.

“Come with me- now.” His voice is firm. 

A collective “ooooh” passes around the bunch that is quickly quelled with one harsh glare. “If I were ya I would get back to my fuckin’ game,” Lt. Riley barks. “Or would you lot rather be placed on permanent fire guard to drive the goddamn point home, since ya want to meddle in an officer’s business?”

His command is absolute and none of the privates have the balls enough to question it. Quickly they scramble back to their game, keeping their heads down and eyes locked to the table. Whatever trouble you are about to get in is none of their concern, not when being reprimanded by the imposing lieutenant is on the line.

Satisfied, those amber eyes snap right back to you. “Move, now,” he demands and points towards an area of the rec that is blocked off by a wall, essentially cutting the room in two and will give enough privacy that the others inside won’t be able to witness what is about to transpire. 

“Of course, sir,” you say in agreement without a syllable of dissention. 

Turning on your heels you take off in the direction pointed out to you, walking ahead of the masked officer eagerly. He’s mad; there is no need to turn around, you can feel his glare on you the entire walk over and it makes you smile. You’ve hit the nerve you had hoped to. Now to bring it all home and get your lover back the way you want. 

As soon as you make it behind the cover of the corner his hand is on your waist as he shoves you into the wall with brute force. Your back hits it and you let out a surprised gasp. He stands towering over top of you, a powerfully intimidating figure with a massive presence to match as he glares you down with fire in his gaze. 

“Can I fucking help you?” you ask as you quickly regain your composure.

Christ, when you want to get his attention you sure know how to do it. “What the fuck do ya think you’re doin’, hmm?” he questions back heatedly. “Puttin’ on a fuckin’ show for all the privates? Do ya fuckin’ think this appropriate, what ya got on?”

Something about having this conversation with the barrier of his balaclava covering his face infuriates you as if this was any other time he would have already had it off his face. “You think you can just treat me like everyone else after all we’ve done? Fuck you; take off the mask when you’re talking to me.”

His eyes narrow as he shakes his head side to side. “You don’t get to make demands a me anymore, princess.”

“Oh yeah?” you challenge back. “That what you think?”

Leaning in a bit closer, you can feel the heat of his breath even as it filters through the fabric. “That’s what I know. Now answer the question. Do ya think this is appropriate?”

Your shrug is nonchalant. “For field work? Well, it depends on the climate I suppose. That doesn’t really apply here does it, since we are still on base. Why? Do you have a problem with it?”

A sharp hiss of air exits rapidly out of his nose. “Like hell I do,” he says and suddenly you can make out the feel of his fingertips as they toy around with the fabric at the edge of your shorts. He lets them brush against your outer thigh as he follows the line of the hem up the slit that goes higher towards your hip. There is electricity in his touch and it makes your pulse start to race. “You're distracting my men. An outfit like this is askin’ for attention. Whose fuckin’ attention ya tryin’ to get, hmm?”

“Who said anything about attention?” you question him back as if you can’t possibly understand what all the fuss is about. “I just wanted to be comfortable. You know, unwind and all that after a long week.”

“Comfortable,” he scoffs as he rolls the fabric in between his fingers. “Ya barely have a god damned thing on.”

“Maybe that’s how I feel most comfortable,” you push, your reply a little more breathy. “You of all people should know that.” 

Oh you are walking on thin ice, lying to him like this. He is not that innocent that he can’t tell what you’re doing and you are not that naive to think that he won’t immediately figure it out. Harshly grabbing your chin, he holds your face firm in his grasp as his dark eyes shadowed within the confines of his mask stare back into your own. 

“Don’t ya lie to me, sweetheart,” he says, that gruff voice metered and unyielding in its severity. “The way ya were just eatin’ up how those boys reacted, I know ya didn’t fuckin’ dress like a slag for nothin’.”

“Are they not allowed to look, Simon?” you ask without missing a beat and using his name as if it’s a curse.

The question hangs in that air as Simon shifts in his stance while not saying a word, eyes narrowing as he realizes that there is no right way for him to answer that without giving himself away that he has dug himself into trouble.

A smug grin crosses your lips before you try to lick it away. “Ah, so that’s the problem right? That they were looking at me? Strange, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were… jealous. But that can’t be right, can it Simon? Because I thought I was cut off and that you were done, so it’s all fair game yeah? Unless there is something you want to fess up to?”

Simon’s chiseled jaw twitches under his mask as his eyes shimmer; you are pushing it, though why is he even surprised. “Ya better watch it, luv,” he warns under his breath as his grip along your chin tightens. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, your pretty little fingers are gonna fuckin’ burn.” 

And before you are even made conscious of it, your mind immediately knows what to say in response. You hold his gaze steadfast in your own. “Make me.”

Those two little words and their variations are Simon’s kryptonite and you know it; that’s what got you on his cock in the first place. Nothing else can make that man go feral than a threat from a bratty bitch that puts him in the position to show them the consequences of what their cocky attitudes get them.  

You smirk, satisfied with how you seem to have the upper hand in this little confrontation. Simon is now in a place where he will either have to admit he still wants you and that his threat meant nothing or he will have to let you go… and you know by the rapid increase in the rise and fall of his chest the longer you stand between him and the wall that the latter is looking less and less likely. 

“Still waiting on your answer,” you say with a smug, satisfied grin spread across your lips, “or is it that if you say anything, it’ll make it clear that you are now regretting a certain… decision… you so hastily made?”

God, you know just how to rile him up in the exact way that both infuriates and entices him. His devil with a pretty face, his sin that feels like heaven; he is drawn to your stubbornness like a moth is drawn to a flame.

“Ya vicious little bitch,” he says, the words sharp. 

Gotcha, you think to yourself. You have that serious military officer right where you want him. Now all you have to do is go in for the kill. You take a step into him even with your chin still secure in his grasp. “Oh yeah,” you respond, your voice husky. “As if you don’t fucking love it.”

You are met with only silence as a shiver runs straight through him. He’s barely able to react in time to hide its presence, but grits his teeth hard and stifles any movement other than the rapid breaths he continues to take. 

“Cat got your tongue?” you ask and wait for a response that doesn’t come; you don’t expect it to. “That’s what I thought. So, here’s how it’s going to work: I’m gonna wear what I want, when I want, and if you don’t like how others react to my wardrobe then that’s on you. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a game to return to.” 

Pulling your head back forcefully out of his grip, his strong, rough fingers release your chin and he watches as you make your move to step past him, but he can’t let this go like he had originally planned. This is the game you both play and he just can’t quit you. You are his, his, and he isn’t going to just let you forget that. You barely take the first few steps around him headed back the way you came when you hear Simon mutter under his breath. 

“Fuck,” the sigh hits your ears before his arm jettisons out and grabs you by the wrist. 

Your body is spun around and pulled into him, your back flush against his warm chest as he leans himself back against the wall. His hand shoots up to cover over your mouth, cupping across your cheeks to stifle any sound that may come from the shock of his action. Sure enough you gasp into his palm as he straps you to his chest by locking you in place with his other arm. 

“You’re not goin’ anywhere, princess,” he grunts lowly into your ear. 

Stoic and silent he pushes a knee up through the gap in your legs to widen them before his hand slinks down your abdomen, over your pants, and comes to rest against your sex. That large palm now nestled in between your thighs presses up into you and it only takes a few seconds for Simon to realize that he can feel the lips of your pussy straight through the thin fabric of your pants without any barrier. No panties, really?

You fucking witch. You planned this, didn’t you?

There are still soldiers hanging about, out of sight for the moment, but still not something that is conducive for such an encounter. He wouldn’t risk something like this…would he? What you think is going to be a quick touch and pull back turns into his hand locking to your pussy as he begins to massage it through your pants. He pushes his fingers up through the cloth until he can feel the outline of your clit on his fingertips.

A quiet chuckle falls from your lips behind his handmade muzzle as his fingers make contact with the crotch of your shorts and you feel his chest jerk as he struggles to catch his breath. Feel something you like, lieutenant? you think as the corners of your mouth upturn against his skin. 

A moan barely squeaks out from around his hand before he presses it harder against your lips. “Don’t need someone catchin’ us, do we? Not til I’m finished with ya.”

Those heated words cause your heart to race violently, thudding strong against your ribcage to match a certain throbbing growing in strength between your thighs. 

“You gonna keep quiet?” he asks and you nod in his hand. “Don’t make me regret it or else, princess.”

Simon removes his palm and wraps his arms around your waist; you’re not going anywhere. “We could still get caught, you know,” you say softly, stumbling over your words as his fingers continue to play.

“Ya should've thought of that before ya tempted me with this fuckin’ skin, luv,” he murmurs against the side of your head. There is no way in hell you are getting out of these shorts without him fucking you out of them, he will stop only when he can feel a wet spot soaking through the crotch. “ ‘Sides, maybe I want that prick that had his fuckin’ hands on ya ta see that he doesn’t stand a chance.” 

He won’t, he has never been the type to share but the threat serves its purpose. The boys at the pool table continue to distract themselves, but who knows how long that will last. If they come creeping over, there is no way they won’t instantly know what is happening. And yet over and over his large fingers grind against your clit until it begins to ache. 

“Gimme your hand,” he searches for the appendage, only to be met with resistance once he locates it. 

“I said give,” he reiterates the point in that more authoritative tone he is used to using with his men.

You shake your head that still rests in his grasp; you don’t want to make this easy for him. If he wants something he is going to have to work for it. Encapsulating your wrist in his hand, the muscles along his forearm strain as he drags your arm up from your side. He takes your hand firmly in his, fingers lacing themselves over the top of your own as he descends them both down the front of your body and slips them into the waistband of your shorts. No time is wasted in bringing them directly between your legs, parting through your warm, soft lips, and nestling both sets of fingers inside. 

“Gonna need ya ta participate in this part,” he says, low and bassey at the side of your face. “You’re fuckin’ achin’ bad, aren’t ya? Christ luv, I can already feel how swollen your clit is.”

Simon keeps your conjoined fingers resting up against that tiny bundle of nerves. There is a tension-filled pause as he takes a deep, labored breath as the end of his thought hangs anxiously in the air, waiting for him to finish it. His lips are right at the threshold of your earlobe, you can feel their presence as they ghost near the tender flesh, the skin tingling as his warm breath wafts over the area.

You suddenly realize the lack of oxygen filling your lungs as he finally speaks. “Let’s make it worse,” he growls. 

A shiver snakes through your spine as he forces your fingers to work in tandem with his in rolling circles over your sensitive clit, stroking again and again in a steady rhythm that he has set. 

“Best hope they decide to leave soon, sweetheart,” he breathes the words into your ear as he rests his forehead against your temple. “Cause if ya want me to let ya fuckin’ come, they’re gonna have to be gone. Until then we’re just gonna have to keep ya wet and fuckin’ ready.”

His phallus pulses against your ass through his pants, bobbing with his racing heartbeat as it prods into the cheek of your ass. A struggled, shaky breath escapes your lips as he moves his hips to press it into you; your sanity is hanging on by a thread. All you want is for him to bend you over, rip your shorts down, and thrust inside, but no matter how much you rub against it he does not take the bait.

Time passes so much slower as you stay strapped to him, his hand and yours shoved down the front of your shorts keeping you wet. Your sanity is beginning to wane; no one should be expected to keep it together when a lover who knows your body like the back of his hand is using everything to his advantage to keep you aching.

Pressure gathering in the pit of your stomach only to dissipate before it can ever come to fruition, over and over Simon brings you to the brink only to back off once you get close enough. It feels like eternity in the haze of his capable fingers working your body before the men finally decide that they have had enough with standing around the quiet center when the local bar is just a short drive down the road and head out, completely forgetting that they haven’t seen either you or the lieutenant for quite some time, but they also haven’t seen either of you leave. 

The moment the door shuts and the last sounds of talking can be heard drifting off into the distance, you are released and again turned only to be shoved back against the wall. Simon is immediately pressed against you, one knee collapsing into the wall between your legs as your hands greedily claw at the cloth gathered at base of his neck, fingers pulling up the bottom of his mask without hindrance so that they can get underneath it and push it up to expose his hungry mouth. A devilish, toothy grin waits to meet you as the fabric is removed; he’s proud of the desperation he has left you in. 

“They’re gone,” you say with a heavy bit of neediness. “I did what you said.” 

“Ya want me ta give it to ya now, that it?” he asks with a smug sense of self satisfaction. 

“You promised,” you shoot back, the agony of waiting becoming unbearable the longer he takes. 

His face inches in closer to yours, hot breath meeting and wafting over the skin on your lips as he exhales. “Ya think this is gonna be some sorta reward?” he asks, his voice lowering into the deeper part of his register, that gravely vibrato that turns your legs into jelly just from the sound.  

Those full lips of his ghost over your own, making the skin quiver from the proximity. Your mouth parts open as suddenly you feel like you can’t get enough air while waiting in misery for him to break and crash on you with all of his desire. A breathy gasp escapes through the gap as that thick thigh of his presses up into your pussy. He has you right where he wants you now.  

“Ya still got a fuckin’ lesson ta learn, princess,” he says. “So, I’m gonna have ta fuck the attitude til it comes drippin’ right out of ya.” 

And with that he leans down and forcefully connects your lips together so that your head hits the wall behind you. Fiery and aggressive he embraces your mouth again and again, lips fighting for dominance with each new connection. Breath and spit are shared as the wet smacking sounds of skin on skin hits the air and fills up the quiet of the place. 

You haven’t gotten your fill yet, but suddenly you find your body being lifted into the air and carelessly flung over one of his broad shoulders as he drags you back into the middle of the room. He eyes his destination the moment it comes into view from around the wall and quickly makes his way over to it; somewhere he can put you so he can get to work.

Your backside makes contact with the smooth felt of the pool table as Simon sets you down on top of it. The cool surface of the rails raises goosebumps on the back of your thighs as he situates you right at the edge. No longer pressed together, a spot of cold radiates from his thigh and he looks down to see a present you have left for him right on the fabric.

“Look what ya did,” he growls, pointing to the obviously darker patch on the inner thigh of his jeans. “Made a fuckin’ mess.”

“Whose…ng…fucking fault is that?” you whimper, adjusting yourself as every little movement puts pressure on your aching clit. 

“And I’d do it again ta keep my brat in line,” he smirks as his irises sparkle like a predator locking on to its prey. “Now, open your fuckin’ legs.”

You widen the gap between your thighs more, but he still has to use his hips to shove them open enough that he can fit in until he is right up against you. The sharp edge of his teeth cuts into the plump flesh of your bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth to give it a hard nip. He swallows down the harsh groan you produce at his delicious brand of roughness like it’s honey. Every single sound you make in response to his actions is music to his ears. 

“Need ya ta know this type a shit isn’t gonna fly with me.”

Fingertips play around the perimeter of your cunt until he hooks them through the cool, damp crotch of your pants and wrenches them to the side to expose your entrance. “Let’s ruin these fuckin’ things,” he smugly says as he works with one hand to undo his pants and slide both that and his boxers down his thighs until his cock pops out of the waistband and stands hard and throbbing for you. “Don’t ever wanna see these goddamn things again after tonight.”

His vice-like grip on the crotch of your shorts causes a few of the overly taut threads to snap as he holds the fabric out of his way to align the swollen head of his cock with that dripping, aching hole he’s been working so that it’s already ready to take him in. You can feel the tip of his hard girth push against the moist skin before he bucks his hips and it strains through the barrier. His grip moves to your waist to force your body further down on him as you whine, the stretch overwhelming, but divine. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, princess? Why you wore these tight fuckin’ things, yeah? Ya tryin’ ta make me take ya like an animal?” he grunts, the feel of your tight, silky walls fluttering around his cock as he fills you full threatening to send him straight to hell. 

“The moment I saw ya in ‘em I thought I was gonna lose control. Been a while since I had ya. That on purpose too?”   

You fall backward against the table, your back arching up off it and your eyes roll back into your head as he pulls you down while slamming the length of his phallus up into you until he reaches the base. He doesn’t give you a moment to gather your sanity and instead snaps his hips into you, the intensity in each stroke causing your body to jolt over the felted surface. 

“Look at me,” he grunts as he reaches out to grab at your chin and pull you back up to him, “look - at - me.”

You’re unable to deny him when he’s thrusting so deep and your eyes open to meet his gaze again. “You’re mine, ya hear?” he breathes the words desperate and firm. “Nobody else can look at ya like this, got it? Nobody.”

His breath hitches a moment as a shudder runs through his cock from the way you tighten around it. “Those boys out there mighta gotten a show tonight, but that’s the last they’ll ever get,” he growls more intensely. “Don’t even want ‘em to think they have a fuckin’ chance wit ya cause you belong ta me. You were made for me, princess. Only me.”

Harder and harder he pounds into your pussy with a need that feels like it cannot be quenched no matter how deep he goes. “And nobody else - nobody else- ya don’t need anyone else ‘sides me. Say it.” 

A pathetic whimper is all he gets in response as his cock digs in deep, but that isn’t good enough. You’re gonna do exactly as he says and repeat it - out loud. His grip around your face tightens.

“Say it,” he demands again. 

“Don’t… need a-anyone…else…” you stammer out as it is a struggle now to speak. 

Then you hear it, the distinct sound of fabric beginning to rip. The seam along the crotch has had too much strain put on it and it is starting to give, threads ripping more steadily the harder Simon thrusts. God, that sound is the catalyst to you suddenly feeling wild, like all you want him to do is shred the fucking things off of you by screwing you out of them. It’s at that moment that familiar warmth begins to gather in your belly. It won’t be long now and you’ll be spilling.

“Say: you’re the only one I fuckin’ want,” he insists as he clenches to make his cock pulse inside of you.

Simon’s wide hand slides down from your chin to just at the base of your throat where he wraps it around and gives it a light squeeze for emphasis. The pressure feels like heaven amongst all the stimulation and trying to keep your eyes on him and speak at the same time is nearly impossible, but find your words soon enough.

You lick your parched lips. “You’re the only one I want, Simon,” you moan.

“Again.”

“You’re the only one I will ever want, Simon.”

Another couple of desperately strong thrusts. “And you’re gonna listen from now on, yeah?”

“Yes!” you blurt out.

He pulls you by the throat so that you meet him in a kiss as his hips never stop snapping into you. “Such a fuckin’ obedient girl for me,” he groans against your mouth as he breaks free from it. “Now, let’s make ya come so ya never fuckin’ forget who it is that ya belong to.”

Releasing your neck, Simon brings his hand down, parting through your dripping lips to find your clit so that he can rub over it as he thrusts. There is not much more you can take now; all his work before has done its job to perfection and your body is falling apart so rapidly it feels like the nosedive off that first ddrop of a rollercoaster. 

“G-gonna… gonna come, baby,” you stammer out. You bring your lips in closer to his, desperate to kiss him again, but the pleasure is just too much to handle that you devolve into simply panting instead. 

He inhales in ragged breaths the sweet air from your mouth, his teeth grinding together the harder he thrusts. All those days without you have been frustrating as he waited for you to come crawling back. He missed the feeling of you wrapped around him and right now he needs you to come on his cock. 

But this isn’t going to teach you what he wants. Pulling out amidst your whined protests, he pulls you off the table onto your feet and spins you around before pushing your upper body down while guiding you to spread your stance wider and ripping the crotch of your pants aside again, this time he doesn’t hesitate to enter you.

From this angle the penetration is even deeper and as his finger finds that tiny bud of nerve endings again, you are right back where you want to be - a mess ready to explode.   

“Come for me.” He is demanding while trying to hold it all together. “Now.”

Harder and harder he pushes, thrusting and stroking, and like the flick of a switch all that heat and all that pressure culminates in an explosion that has you crying out loudly as you come with force, your back arching to pull you away from his grasp. Waves wash through your body as the intensity of your orgasm shakes through you until your legs are vibrating around his hips. 

The moment you cry out he allows himself to let go, finally finished with his task, and fucking you through your orgasm he comes so hard that he has to grab the sides of the pool table to keep himself upright. Grunting like an animal he coats your walls and thrusts his cum continuously back up into you until he is spent and cannot go another second. 

Simon stays inside as you both come back down from that exhilarating high, two glistening bodies conjoined at the forehead with eyes closed until he has enough strength to pull his sensitive cock carefully out of you. Both of your mixed juices follow his cock out, dribbling out of your entrance to collect in the crotch of your pants as they snap back into place now that there is nothing keeping them pushed aside. 

You flip yourself back over and lean against the edge of the table to look down at what’s left of your shorts. They are completely soaked, drenched in so much of your juices that they look wet. The ruined fabric clings to your body as if it’s glued on and you are left feeling cold down there as Simon pulls away.

“That’s better,” he says with satisfaction as he studies his handiwork of the ripped, saturated fabric. “And so is this.”

A more gentle kiss is placed on your lips this time, one in praise of you doing so well for him. You reciprocate the feeling by cupping his face in your hands.

“And we’re not gonna have any more a this, right?” he asks as he pulls from your mouth.

Looking into his eyes, a subtle smirk contours your lips. “We’ll see,” you say as Simon shakes his head.

He wouldn’t expect anything less.

“So,” you continue, “I’m just wondering if you thought about how I’m going to leave here, now that I look like this. Gonna need something so I don’t have to cross base.” 

Across the way he spots a random jacket hanging off the back of a chair, left by one of the privates no doubt. Looks big enough and he returns with it in hand. Carefully he circles the sleeves around your body and ties them in front to cover you until you can get back to your room and change. Don’t need anyone seeing anything they shouldn’t.

“I did really like these by the way,” you pick as Simon pulls you by the knot in the sleeves wrapped around your waist back into him to catch your lips one last time with his.  

“Don’t ya worry, sweetheart, I’m gonna be gettin’ you a new pair, ones that I chose,” he says. “Cause I’m gonna be the only one that gets to enjoy this fuckin’ view from now on. And it’s a view you’re gonna give me ‘gain and again, darlin’.”

[yanderenightmare]

L "Lawliet"

rewatched Death Note and just couldn't resist...

TW: strict schooling ig, orphan reader, creepy behavior

gn reader

You were placed in Wammy’s House at an age you don’t remember. To you and most of the orphans here, it’s been your entire lives. Birthdays aren’t celebrated. The days are cold, the residents even colder. There was a time when you’d consider them brothers and sisters, but that’s also long ago now. No one is close to each other in this house.

It’s a rather stale existence with boring conditions unfit for normal children – the solitude, the competition, the games, always a ploy to make each other feel worthless. And for what… more riddles to solve?

You’d long lost interest in proving yourself among the prodigies. When you were given puzzles, you always played with them differently than the rest. They’d tell you to fill out the sheets, and you ended up making origami swans instead.

Looking around at the others, you knew you would never understand them – all blank faces staring into space. They all make you uneasy. You don’t know if it’s you or them that’s missing something, but you recognize it’s a rather pointless question to be begged. 

So you leave your paper flock on the floor and walk away.

You’d started putting the chisel of a black marker to the library books in your spare time – trying to make something else out of the boring pages. Something more palatable than the droning of law and policy you’d already read ten times over.

You had blacked out the word doppelganger when there came a disturbance.

“You had 84% of them right.”

You peeked up from the book, lowering your knees from where you had them tucked close for privacy – sitting on the floor between two bookshelves – a little nook you’d discovered to hide yourself from the rest of the busy readers in the usually crowded library.

It was empty now. Everyone was otherwise busy with the test still.

And yet, a mess of black hair was crouched down in front of you, shadowing his equally dark eyes. He held your swans unfolded in his hands. It was a disturbing sight for some reason – as though he’d dissected their guts. 

“You left 16% unanswered. Most people would test their luck and guess.”

L must have been the least creative alias born in the dull walls of Wammy’s House, and yet, he’s supposed to be the brightest of all those living there. He always finishes your tests early and leaves in favor of his own devices. Much like you, you suppose. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him speak before.

Suppose it’s only courtesy you pay him the same effort even when what you really want is to tell him to leave you alone…

You narrowed your eyes a bit, looking at him.

You sensed foul play in a game you had no wish to partake in but moved across the board like a sacrificial pawn anyway. That’s how you play these things, after all – never show your cards.

“There’s nothing to guess.” You sigh – despite knowing he already knows all this. “The blanks are trick questions.”

“So you noticed, too?” His eyes are like inkblots – much like those spills you’ve made in your book when you let the marker rest too long. He dropped your papers between you in favor of gripping his knees, leaning forward. “We’re the only ones.”

You purse your lips at his eagerness. You should have played dumb from the start – should have said you swiped the answer sheet from the headmaster’s office. He’d only spoken all but four sentences, and you were already exhausted. Any conversation with any one of your peers was like an interrogation.

“You started folding paper cranes when I was 94% done. Easy logistics would put you 6% ahead of me. But, unlike me, it didn’t seem you were filling out the answer sheets in any hurry. In fact… you seemed bored. And in that case, I’d put you around 16%, no... 18% ahead of me.”

You allowed the following silence to inform him that his ramblings were boring you. But it didn't seem he took the hint – showing no signs he planned on leaving.

Your eyes grew more jaded.

“Paper swans.” You corrected blandly. “You know my alias is Swan.”

You clapped your book together and sighed again.

“And we both know you were finished long before I started folding them.” 

He had a small smile on his face. It looked as if you’d drawn it on with your marker.

“You can state all the percentages in the world to try and confuse me, but your mind games won’t get under my skin for one single simple reason, L…” You got up and brushed off the dust, then walked away while saying, “I’m not interested in playing – not with you or anyone else in this miserable place. So do me a favor and leave me alone.”

L watches you leave and taps his lips with his pointer.

Puzzles and answer sheets have bored him for a while. Maybe he ought to play with you instead…

[flemingsfreckles]

Jealousy (18+)

Synopsis: Your current girlfriend doesn’t take well to the fact that you have to go play with your ex during international break. When your ex calls you after the game, she makes sure you both know who you belong to.

Warnings: smut!!!! Oral sex (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), possessive sex, risky sex, having sex while someone else is on the phone (idk if there’s a name for that), semi-public sex, edging, marking, dirty talk, language.

WC: 4.1k

A/N: this fic was pretty much entirely inspired by @waltzinglikewearein1698 who gave me this suggestion back in maybe June? I’ve finally gotten around to writing it, hope you all enjoy ;)

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” Jessie came up, plopping herself down on the bed next to your suitcase.

“I feel like I should be asking you that.” You looked up from your phone to your girlfriend.

“Why? You’re the one who has to go play with their ex again, not me.” Jessie questions, heading over to her closet to begin picking out clothing to put in the bag.

You looked at her again, puzzled look across your own face. “That’s exactly why I feel like I should be asking you. You don’t need to reassure me, I want to make sure you’re comfortable. How are you feeling that I’m going to be seeing her?”

“Fine, I mean I don’t love the idea obviously but I’m more worried it’ll be weird or uncomfortable for you.” Jessie shrugged. “I’m not concerned about her and you, I trust you, I know there’s nothing between you two anymore.”

“I mean it’ll be weird, it’s the first time we’ve played together since we’ve broken up, but it’ll be fine.” You finally pull yourself off the bed, heading to the closet to grab your own suitcase.

You and Cameron had broken up over 2 years ago, but a mix of injuries between the two of you had kept you from having to play on the same national team until the upcoming camp. You had felt a little uneasy knowing you’d see her again.

Your breakup had been amicable, when she had been given an opportunity to leave England and go play back in her home state for Orlando, you couldn’t hold her back. You had loved her so much, you had to let her go. Things worked for only a few weeks, it was hard, taking a toll on both of you emotionally which led to a physical toll as well.

It wasn’t an easy decision but after two months of putting your time and effort into each other, you and Cameron sat down and decided long distance wasn’t made for the two of you. In a tearful agreement, you decided to, with heavy hearts, split and go your separate ways.

Trying to be friends hadn’t worked either, for the first few months after the breakup you were in off season and you found yourself on a flight to Orlando, within hours of landing in Florida, you found yourself in the bed of a familiar body. You both swore every time it wouldn’t happen again, but it did. You were a frequent visitor to her, each visit ending with the two of you tangled in bedsheets, making your feelings even more confusing. The two of you continued on, unable to cut yourselves from each other's lives completely, still emotionally tied. It was toxic, only hurting yourselves further by continuing to see each other. So you finally cut it off. Just before you returned to England you both sat down, establishing you’d both move on.

You’d gone no contact for those next 20 months, only for it to be broken by your simultaneous call ups into the most recent camp. Which led you to this conversation with your current girlfriend.

You and Jessie started dating over a year after your breakup with Cameron. You two had met at Chelsea and you couldn’t ignore your sudden attraction toward the Canadian. She was soft spoken and one of the smartest people you knew. She knew how to make you laugh in any situation, even if you were upset, angry, frustrated. She brought the best out in you, which was quickly noticed by some of your teammates who teased you endlessly until you finally mustered the courage to ask her out.

She had happily agreed to the coffee date and the two of you had quickly fallen for each other, dating for just under a year. You had aired out your relationship with your ex to Jessie, being honest with her about your history and feelings. She hadn’t been bothered, trusting you and the relationship the two of you had built, never once had you given a reason for her not to trust you do she didn’t.

Seeing Cameron for the first time was less awkward than you had expected. You’d end up sitting at the same table at dinner, exchanging pleasantries while keeping up conversation with your other table mates. Cameron had asked about Jessie, saying she was happy for you and that the Canadian seemed to make you really happy. She then jokes that you must have a thing for captains, pointing out the fact that she was the captain for her club and was also on occasion a captain for the national team.

That was something you had forgotten about, the fact that not only would your girlfriend and ex be playing against each other, they’d be captaining their respective teams against each other.

You swallowed hard watching as your girlfriend and ex girlfriend stood face to face the next day, an awkward handshake being exchanged between them as they stood listening to the referees. You were sure to the outside world it didn’t look uncomfortable or tense, but to you it felt that way. It especially felt that way when both girls' eyes found their way to you as they were dismissed from their meeting. You immediately looked to the ground, wanting to avoid whatever tension the two had.

“That wasn’t tense at all.” Unsure of who said it you send a glare down the line of your teammates, a couple of them giggling to themselves.

The game itself felt relatively uneventful. A few decent shots from both sides but the game ultimately ending in a draw 2-2. It had been easy to fall into the mindset of the game, not remembering you were playing alongside your ex, against your girlfriend, and against a couple of your club teammates, it was just another game.

When the game finished you wandered about, signing a few things, taking some photos, chatting with your teammates as well as a couple of the Canadians.

You feel the back of your shirt get tugged on and you turn to see Jessie, red cheeks from her 90 minutes of playing looking at you. ”Meet me once you’re changed.” That’s all she says before starting to walk away.

“Okay, you alright?” You question, her noticing the negativity in her tone. You knew she hated drawing, she always wanted to win but it was a good game you figured she wouldn’t be that upset over it.

“I’m fine.” She said in a tone that makes it very clear to you she was not fine. She was pissed off and it seemed like at you.

You waited outside the Canadian locker room for a few minutes, before sending Jessie a text letting her know you were there. Seconds after the text was read, the door comes flying open and out comes your girlfriend, a scowl still on her face.

“Hi.” You try to be chipped, hoping to lighten her mood.

“Not here.” Is all she says before her hand finds yours and she begins pulling you down the hallway. The two of you turn a few corners before she swings open a door.

“What’s your deal?” You turned, confused look on your face as your girlfriend stomps you into an unoccupied bathroom, locking the door behind her. She points at the largest stall, a firm look across her face. You turn so she doesn’t see you rolling your eyes as you obey her request.

She closes the door behind both of you and before you can repeat your question and ask what’s wrong she pushes you against the wall, one hand on your hips the other on your chin holding your face to kiss her.

“You’re mine.” She grumbles into your ear before her tongue drags slowly across the lobe before up and around. You gently toss back your head at the feeling of her breath on your ear. You gently push Jessie back your hands on her shoulders, your fingers keeping her close by gripping her shirt.

“Oh my god.” You can’t help but let out a small laugh before holding it in as Jessie gives you a disapproving stare. “You’re jealous.” You feel the smirk grow across your lips. Jessie wasn’t one to be jealous, she was protective, she liked that people knew you were taken but in public she was never one to be overbearing.

“I’m not. I just don’t like seeing your ex jump into your arms in celebration, that should be me, not her!”

You knew that was going to come back to get you. You had scored off a beautiful pass from Cameron, when you turned to celebrate with your team, she was flying at you, jumping into your arms. Instinctively you had wrapped your arms around her, before the rest of your team joined in on the group hug. When the crowd finally dissipated, you had made eye contact with the unpleasant expression across Jessie’s face. You didn’t think much of her glare in that moment, thinking it was more of a frustration to your team taking the lead.

“That’s the definition of jealousy, you’re jealous Jessie.” You say flatly to her.

“I just want to make sure you know and she knows, you’re mine.” She confirms her jealousy as her lips latch onto your lower neck and you feel her sucking harshly.

“Jess!” You grab the back of her head, fingers tangled in her hair. “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“I know.” She mumbles once she releases your skin. “That’s the point.” Her lips find the other side of your neck, sucking harshly again. Feeling your knees grow weak at the sensation you brace yourself on Jessie’s shoulders.

“Babe.”

“Shhhh, I’ve got you.” Jessie’s arms hold your waist firmly, aiding you in standing. She adds one more mark to your neck before putting her lips back on yours, her hand on the back of your head pulling you into her. The kiss is heated, passes of her tongue, gentle bites on your lips, it was a kiss the two of you often shared in private, not in a public place. Jessie’s hands found their way all over your body, squeezing at your chest and ass, under your shirt causing your skin to prickle under her touch.

When Jessie finally pulled away you expected her to unlock the door and the two of you to leave. But that’s not what she did. You watched, eyes locked on hers as she slowly lowered her hands to your hips before following them with the rest of her body, bending down.

Now kneeling in front of you, Jessie’s fingers dig into the waistband of your sweats. She takes a moment to glance at you, waiting for permission. Despite her suddenly controlling nature, she still had to make sure you wanted it.

“Seriously?” You couldn’t help but ask. You’d brought up the idea of semi-public sex before to Jessie, she always rejected the idea. you had always thought the added risk was fun, she did not. She had no interest in being caught or heard, at least she usually didn’t.

“Yes, if you want.” Jessie’s jealous demeanor fades for a second as she looks up at you, still awaiting your permission.

“Uh, yeah, yeah of course, just hadn’t expected it.” You nod at her. Needing no further confirmation Jessie yanks everything down your legs leaving you exposed to her.

“Need to prove your mine.” She mumbles quietly. You watch as she licks her lips, looking from your pussy up to your eyes before back down.

“Wow baby,” Jessie looks up at you with a smirk, “dripping for me and I haven’t even touched you.” She brings her hands to your thighs pushing them apart more to fully expose your core. “Did you ever get this wet for her?” Jessie asks as she runs two fingers through you before holding them up to show you how they glistened with your arousal.

Shaking your head quickly you reassure her. “No Jessie, only you.”

“Only me huh? Cameron never got you dripping like this?” Still stunned by your girlfriend’s mood, it takes you a second to respond, giving her time to dip her fingers back, gathering even more of your slick, this time giving a slow, firm circle to your clit.

“Only you Jessie.” You breathe out.

“Good girl, all mine.” She praises before grabbing your thigh and placing it over her shoulder. Taking a couple minutes she just admires your core, suddenly feeling self conscious under her stare you try and pinch your thighs together. Jessie’s hands come up to stop you, keeping your thighs apart. “Don’t hide, let me see my pussy.” She looks up at you. “That’s what it is, right? My pussy?”

“All yours Jessie, it’s yours.”

“So perfect for me.” She whispers before bringing her face to meet your core. She places a couple quick and teasing kisses on your inner thighs before running her tongue through you. Already feeling worked up you buck your hips as her tongue flicks across your clit.

She teases around the bundle of nerves, tracing light circles around it before she’d give it a firm lick making you groan before returning to the light circles.

“Jess, hurry up, we don’t have a lot of time.”

“Excuse me.”

“I, I just, I want to cum for you.” Silently using your eyes to beg her, you hope she’ll give in, making it seem like it was a reward for her, not just to satisfy you.

“Hmmm.” Jessie says bringing her fingers to again run along your thighs, just to the peak teasing before coming back down your leg to your knee.

You start to feel a vibration by your feet, your first thought is one of shock that your girlfriend brought a toy with her, before you realize it was your phone ringing. Jessie’s eyes open and she gives you one last pass of her tongue before pulling back much to your dismay.

“Just ignore it.” You whine, not caring about the phone call, you could call them back. Reaching your hand on the back of Jessie’s head you try to coax her back between your legs.

“Let’s see who’s calling you.” Jessie looks up at you before reaching into the pocket of your shorts that lay at your feet. You watch as Jessie’s eyebrows raise before she turns the phone to you.

Cameron’s name is across the screen.

“Answer it.” Jessie reaches up to hand you the phone.

You looked down at Jessie, fully thinking she was joking with you, but the expression on her face tells you she’s being serious. She wanted you to answer the phone while she fucked you. “Jessie no, not while-”

“I said answer it.” Jessie barks up at you. She wasn’t one to normally demand anything from you, you were seeing a whole new side of your girlfriend today. Your hand reached out slowly grabbing the phone, your thumb sliding across the screen to answer the call.

“Hey, what’s up?” You tried to sound normal as you answered, trying to control your breathing.

“Just wanted to see where you were at? Bus leaves in 35.”

As if Jessie knew it was your turn to respond, she leaned forward her tongue finding its way back between your already slick folds, landing right on your clit. You felt your breath catch in your throat at the sensation

“Uh,” you clear your throat as a moan threatens to escape as Jessie begins to suck where you need her most. “I um, I know, I’m, I went for a walk, just to,” you have to pull the phone away from your face to take a breath, you see Jessie shoot a glare in your direction when you pull the phone away.

“Answer her.” She mouths before returning her face between your legs.

“I just went to see Jessie, I,” you feel Jessie’s fingers begin to tease your entrance. She lets them just barely stretch you out before pulling them back and repeating the teasing thrust. “I told Coffey, I’ll be back for the bus.” You manage to whimper out.

“You alright?” Cameron asks, clearly noticing the change in your voice.

“Yeah I’m,” you throw your other hand across your mouth as Jessie begins to pump her fingers in and out of you. It takes biting your hand to keep a loud moan from escaping. Instead just a small whine comes out. “I’m good.”

You can hear your teammates chatting in the background of Cameron’s call and you just hope the phone isn’t able to pick up on the sounds coming from the stall. Between your own whimpering, the sounds of Jessie drinking you in and the wetness of her fingers you weren’t sure what would be more embarrassing. “I’m fine.” You stumble over your words, assuring your teammate you’re alright.

“Okay, hang on.” You hear Cameron start talking across the room to someone else, giving you the chance to let out a much needed moan of Jessie’s name.

“Fuck Jess, please.” You can practically feel the girl smile against your skin and she continues to fuck you, the suction of her lips releasing for a moment as she smiles before she returns sucking with more force than before. you can feel the way her fingers are stretching you out, hitting the spots she knows will get you to finish.

“What?” Cameron says into the phone.

“Fuck.” You whisper before catching yourself. “Nothing, nothing, I didn’t say, I said nothing.” Your heart is racing, the nerves of being caught mixed with the adrenaline of being caught keeping your emotions at an all time high.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yep.” The word squeaks out. Now you’re starting to panic. The tightness in your stomach and the way you're clenching around Jessie’s fingers is enough to know you’re only a few moments away from finishing. You couldn’t orgasm while on the phone. You definitely couldn’t orgasm while on the phone with your ex.

You did your best to send a pleading look down at Jessie but it was no use as her eyes were closed, fully immersing herself into you. Reaching down you grab her hair, pulling it hard, causing her eyes to flutter open.

“Please” you mean to just mouth the word in your girlfriend’s direction but it comes out as a soft whine. So focused on keeping your composure, your ears have started to go fuzzy, as has your vision. You hear Cameron say something back to you in response to your quiet beg but you can’t comprehend it. That’s when you start shaking your head, trying to let you know you can’t hold it any longer, your eyes beginning to water. A feeling of panic begins to flood your body.

You feel Jessie’s hand grab at yours, taking the phone away. Then you feel her mouth leave your clit, her right hand still thrusting, keeping you on edge. “Hey Cameron, sorry, she’s busy doing something, or I guess you could say I’m busy doing her, I’ll have her talk to you later.”

Your eyes fly open at Jessie’s words, she wasn’t a prude by any means but she usually kept your sex life relatively private. You hadn’t expected Jessie to tell Cameron that she was actively fucking you.

“I” Cameron tries to respond but is cut off by the dial tone indicating Jessie had hung up.

“That’ll prove you’re mine if those pretty marks don’t do the trick.” She says smugly before dropping your phone onto the pile of clothing. “You can cum, just make sure if anyone hears you, they know it’s me making you feel this good and not her.”

She quickly puts her face back into you, her tongue and lips not teasing anymore, immediately sucking and flicking your clit in the way she knows will have you falling apart.

“Jessie, fuck.” She hums, pleased with the way you’re saying her name. You can feel your knees growing weak, more of your weird being rested onto Jessie’s shoulder. Your hands pull her hair even tighter as you grind yourself onto her face. “Oh my god, oh fuck, Jessie.”

The feeling of pleasure races through your body, your eyes slamming shut, Jessie name escaping your lips in a deep groan as you grab her hair tighter. Collapsing your upper body over as you continue to buck your hips against Jessie’s face.

Continuing to fuck you through your orgasm Jessie only slows once she hears your quiet whine of “I can’t.” Knowing she had pushed you far enough, she eases up, pulling her mouth off of you and stalling her fingers deep inside of you.

You remain bent over for a minute, your stomach resting on top of Jessie’s head, covering her body with your own. Your chest rises and falls rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “Holy shit.”

“Good?” Jessie mumbles from under your body. You feel her shift slightly and you finally stand back up, resting against the wall of the stall again.

“Fuck, yeah, that was, good Jess, so good.” You try to string together a coherent thought, your brain still rattled from the last half hour.

“Yay!” You can’t help but laugh at her excitement before she adds. “I can’t believe I made you talk on the phone while I fucked you.” You watch her eyes grow wider. “I can’t believe I told your ex I was doing you!”

“Babe, it’s fine, she’s not going to care.” You put your hands on her face, caressing her cheeks as you watched her suddenly become very shy about her actions.

Your phone dings, interrupting your peace with Jessie. Not even reading the notification you see the time displayed on your phone. A wave of panic takes you out of your post orgasm bliss. “Oh shit! I have to go, our bus is leaving in two minutes.” You say. Jessie immediately grabs your sweats and panties that she had quickly ripped off before. She holds them both open for you to step into before pulling them up to your hips.

She stands up, you can smell yourself lingering on her chin and lips as she leans in to kiss you. “I love you, let me know when you get back to the hotel safely.”

“I will, you too.” You remind her.

“I will.”

“I love you.” You say, smiling at her as she followed you out of the stall into the rest of the restroom.

“I love you, sorry about the marks.” It’s only now that Jessie seems to have actually noticed the damage she did to your neck, her face a look of concern as she stares at the hickeys.

“It’s alright, the teasing will be worth it, and I’ll make you pay for it when we’re back home tomorrow.” You give her one final kiss as the two of you exit the bathroom and split ways.

You made a quick run through the stadium, making your way out to the line of your teammates waiting to get on the bus. Hoping you’d hide away in the back you didn’t make it known to anyone you had arrived.

“Hmm, nice ‘walk’ you went on.” Sam says coming up to you pulling at the collar of your shirt, further exposing the markings Jessie had left. ”Jessie must be a rough walker.”

“Shut it.”

“Where did you two even-” She starts to ask.

“I’m not answering that.” You interrupt her sternly, holding. A hand up to stop what she was saying. You know your face is burning red, part of you hopes it’ll help the hickeys blend in with your skin.

You climbed on the bus, trying to keep your head ducked down but it was no use as you heard your teammates wolf whistle and snicker as you walked by. You slumped in your seat, pulling up your shirt, knowing you’d hear the teasing for what would probably be years to come.

You look across the aisle only to realize you had sat across from Cameron. Your eyes met for a second before you found interest in the ground. She starts to speak, laughing as she does so. “You know, next time, just don’t answer the phone.”

[lumiambrose]

sae x reader, part two to saes soft launch, fluff, part three

you haven’t caught a break since sae’s soft launch. ever since that interview you have constantly been on your toes, paranoid that if you step outside, the paparazzi will catch onto you. even though your identity is still hidden to the public eye, you couldn’t help but feel pressured every time you left the house.

tonight, however, was not the time to worry about that. today was one of your boyfriend's big games and you certainly weren't’ going to miss it for the world. it’s a crucial game for re al’s youth team, so of course, the stadium is absolutely filled to the brim. luckily you were seated in a special box which is typically reserved for vip members or relatives. it was slightly separated from the big crowds but came with a perfect view to witness sae in action. as the game progressed, you and fans alike watched him play with his usual grace and precision, every move and decision living up to his world renowned skill as a member of gen xi.

the final whistle blew, the match was over. the crowd erupted into cheers. sae's team had won. you were filled with pride being able to watch your boyfriend celebrate his hard-earned victory with his team. after all, he had put in his best effort, especially knowing that the love of his life was there to watch him in person.

sae should be celebrating. i mean, it’s an enormous win for his team but his eyes quickly scan the stands in search for yours. when he finally locks eyes with you he feels ecstatic. he broke away from his teammates and started walking towards where you were seated, his gaze unwavering from yours. as he got closer and closer, you heart started to speed up. you were filled with nervousness as you noticed the crowds gaze shift slowly over to you.

when sae reached the barrier separating the two of you, he motioned for you to come closer. full of anticipation, you made your way down, feeling the eyes of thousands of fans and the flashing cameras of the paparazzi on you.

as you reached him, sae’s expression softened. he reached out to take your hand, pulling you gently over the barrier. without a word, he wrapped his arms around you and, in front of the entire stadium, he kissed you. the world seemed to stop for a moment, and all you could feel was the warmth of his embrace and the intensity of his kiss.

after a while he pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, “the world should know how much you mean to me, amor.”

the stadium erupted into a mixture of cheers and gasps, the crowd going wild at the public display of affection from the usually reserved and stoic sae. reporters were frantically capturing the moment, and you knew this would be the headline for days to come.

later, as you walked off the field hand in hand with sae, the realisation of what had just happened began to sink in. your relationship was now officially public, for the entire world to lay their eyes upon. sae, usually so guarded and serious, had opened up a part of his world to the public, declaring his love for you in the most dramatic way possible.

back at home, the excitement from earlier still lingered. you were curled up together on the couch, with the evening news replaying the moment of your kiss on loop. sae’s arm was around you, while his fingers traced little patterns on your back.

“i hope you’re not mad,” he said quietly, his voice a mix of concern and affection.

you looked up at him, softly giggling at sae’s concern. “how could i be? you made me feel like the most special person in the world.”

he smiled at you. a rare, genuine smile that only you would ever get to experience. “you are the most special person in the world to me.”