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reciprocityfic · 3 years

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#5 for amylaurie

5. that emotional moment that you can't find a plot for.

He’d never had a particularly happy life.

From the beginning, it had been marked with tragedy. He adored his mother, from what he can remember. But his memories, unfortunately, are few and far between. He tried to keep her smile, her laugh, the feel of her hugs and her hand wrapped around his tiny one locked away in his brain and his heart, but over the years, they inevitably began to fade. Before he knew it, he couldn’t quite get the tenor of her voice right, couldn’t remember the sweet words she used to whisper in his ear. She was like a beautifully painted picture, rather than a human being.

If there was someone who adored his mother more than he had, it was his father.

His father took her death the hardest. He tried to find a salve for his broken heart in all the wrong places, began gambling too often and drinking too much, frequently leaving his son alone late into the night to go out and drown his pain in whatever way he could. When his father was home, he could hardly stand to be around him. Everything about Laurie reminded him of her - his eyes, his hair, his nose, his smile. He reached his breaking point eventually, and then he sent Laurie away.

School had never been particularly hard for him. He was smart, he supposed, and he didn’t mind the company of his tutor. Boarding school was different, though. He never quite found a way to fit in. He was too quiet, not quite as rich, and Italian, which mattered in a way he didn’t understand. He always found himself at the center of negative gossip, the butt of too many jokes. He hated it, so he stopped trying to assimilate and let himself fade away into the peripheries of his peers.

When his father died, it was almost a relief; at least the man wouldn’t suffer any longer. But again, it threw him into a world of uncertainty and unfamiliar territory. It sent him to America, into the hands of a grandfather he had never met. As he grew older, he’d come to subtly resent his extended family for disowning him and his parents, and wondered if this grandfather would resent him back.

He didn’t. But his grandfather also wasn’t warm, a product of living so many years alone, Laurie supposes. He knows Mr. Laurence has experienced his share of heartbreak as well; there’s a beautiful piano that sits untouched, that the servants tell him belonged to the old man’s late granddaughter. The few times he tried to play it he’d catch his grandfather looking at him in a way that wasn’t particularly pleasant, so he stopped.

John Brooke - his new tutor - was pleasant enough, earnest and determined to please his grandfather by giving him the privilege of an excellent education. They often butted heads when Mr. Brooke tried to teach him; he couldn’t find him in himself to care much about learning anymore. Couldn’t find it in himself to care about much of anything.

Then, he met Jo March.

His grandfather had noticed his melancholy and sent him to a party to try to lift his spirits. He doubted it would work - how exciting could a party in Concord, Massachusetts possibly be, after all - and quickly found an empty side room to disappear in for a while until he’d spent enough time there that he could plausibly tell his grandfather he’d made an effort to be sociable.

It was there that Jo literally stumbled into him, and changed his life forever.

He’d never in his life met a girl like Jo March, one that was so boisterous and bright and unapologetically herself. In his world, every girl was trained from an early age to be prim and proper and polite, so that someday she might make a good wife and a fine young woman. Jo was anything but, and when he met the rest of the March family, he learned that they all were, in their own way - whether it be Meg and her unabashed love for dramatics and pretty things, or Beth sitting at her piano, playing until her fingers ached.

Or Amy, marching around in a pair of fairy wings and declaring that one day, she would be the best painter in the entire world.

His childhood memories of the Marches were all Jo, her fire and harsh edges and iron will, but Amy was always there at the edges, making herself known. She always seemed to be at odds with her older sister, but he thought that was because the two of them were the most alike in a way, like two opposite ends of the same string. He would always take Jo’s side when she recounted their latest feud, of course, but he couldn’t help his amusement at some of Amy’s antics. He remembers, when Jo told him that Amy had burned her novel, how his sympathy for Jo had existed right alongside of his wild amusement that little Amy March had the gall to even come up with such a thing, let alone follow it through.

But even though Amy was there, along with Meg and Beth, Jo was undoubtedly the main attraction, the sun at the center of his universe. His world was filled with her, with her smiles and laughs and hair and voice, with her words and her thoughts and ideas, and soon his heart was, too. He didn’t know much about love, but he knew he loved her. He knew he wanted her to be a part of his life always.

So, he’d asked her to marry him. It was the only thing to do, wasn’t it?

When she turned him down, he almost hadn’t been surprised. A part of him almost expected it; he hadn’t been particularly excited to ask her, after all. Rather, he’d dreaded it, dreaded the moment that the delicate balance they had built would have to tip one way or the other. He’d always known there was a chance she’d reject him.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less, though. He thinks it hurt even more when she left; he’d always known Jo to dive into every challenge head-first, but then she ran away to New York. She ran away from him. So he followed her lead, as he had learned to do so well over those years with her.

Heading back to Europe was much more bitter than it was sweet, and even the grandeur of cities like London, Paris, and Rome couldn’t stop the vibrancy from slowly bleeding out of his life. What had become a kaleidoscope of colors was now just grays and blacks and whites.

So he drank, and smoked, and gambled, and fucked his way through life, and in a macabre way, never felt closer to his father. Except he wasn’t heartbroken, not anymore - he realized more and more that he never expected her to say yes, not really. That she was right, as she usually was - it would have never worked.

He just felt lost. Unmoored, with nothing to anchor him. And he started to believe that maybe he was simply supposed to live his life this way, alone and adrift and apathetic.

Then, Amy March came barreling back into his life.

She was different, of course - namely, she was no longer little. She had traded her fairy wings and braids for beautiful gowns and carefully coiffed updos, and all her lofty childhood wishes had been replaced with a stoic, resigned realism. It would have worried him, that the world had taken her and hardened her, but he knew that the woman that threw her arms around him and happily shouted his name on that Parisian street, the world around her momentarily forgotten, was the Amy he had always known and cared for, however proper she might be now.

And she was proper, but he found it didn’t bother him like he thought it would. Instead, he admired her for it, that she had managed to grow up so gracefully. She was lovely, he decided. Lovely and refined and determined, so much so that it got him in trouble with her, sometimes. She was constantly after him to be better, to stop his drinking and laziness and make something of his life.

She wanted him to respect himself. He’d never really done that; all his life, he’d known himself to be a bother or problem, a thorn in someone’s side. He didn’t really know how to respect himself, but for her, he wanted to try.

The problem was, it was getting harder and harder to leave her side. She painted in his life with strokes that were insistent, but soft, and he found that her world was just as colorful as her sister’s. It was her own, of course; if Jo had been a red flame, then Amy was a golden glow, like sunshine. But he found that he didn’t mind the differences, that he maybe even preferred Amy’s version. It made him warmer than anything he’d known before.

He doesn’t know exactly when he fell for Amy. It happened slowly, gently, and before he could stop it, she’d taken up all the emptiness in his heart, filled it with light and life and love. Not that he would’ve wanted to stop it; he found he was quite content belonging to her. Even when she rejected him that first time, he didn’t try to remove her. He didn’t resent her, as he had temporarily resented Jo. He knew it was futile, that he was irreparably hers, and he decided that if he couldn’t be with her, he would at least make himself someone she could be proud of. He wanted to be someone she could respect, if he couldn’t be someone she loved.

But then, God had smiled upon him - for perhaps the first time - and she’d changed her mind. She loved him, she wanted him, she loved him. And when he kissed her that first time, she ignited something in him that no woman ever had before. He loved her, he wanted her, her and her only, he loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

His heart sang for her with its every beat. Every breath she took gave him purpose, every smile gave him joy, every kiss and moan and tug on his hair made his blood run hot through his veins. He was so full inside, wanted for nothing. He felt like all his life he’d been trying to shove himself into places where he didn’t fit, whether it be at school or with his father. With Jo. But there was a spot beside Amy, one in which he fit perfectly, like it was created with him in mind. And as long as Amy was beside him, he could do anything, be anything, survive anything.

One of the things that he loves most about her is her beauty. He can’t help it; he is only human. A weak one when it comes to Amy. When she hugged him that first time in France, he’d noticed how the autumn sun had caught the strands of her blonde hair, her cheeks flushed from the way she ran to him. He first let himself realize it in her studio, when she went off to meet Fred Vaughn. There was something about the way her cream-colored blouse laid against her pale skin, the way the blue accents brought out her eyes. How her pinned-up hair showed off her neck. He could do nothing but smile shyly at her, any coherent words suddenly caught in his throat. And every time he saw her, he noticed something else that added to her beauty, whether it be the delicate way she sipped her tea, her lips a pretty pink against the white china, or the way she blushed when he complimented her. Eventually, in a room full of women, she was the only one he could see, as captured as he was by her.

Almost three years later, nothing has changed.

He wakes up in the middle of the night to find her side of the bed empty. He’s almost positive he knows where she is, and almost rolls over and closes his eyes. But he can’t get her out of his head, so he gets up and throws on his robe. The moon shines bright enough that he doesn’t need a candle, and he leaves their bedroom, creeping to the next door down the hall. It’s ajar just slightly, and he slips inside.

And there she is, just where he thought she would be. Standing at the window, staring out into the night. She’s barefoot, dressed in a white nightgown, long hair cascading down her back. The moonlight illuminates her hair and skin. She’s breathtaking. More beautiful than any painting he’d ever seen.

Cradled in her arms is their newborn baby girl.

He doesn’t want to startle her, so he knocks gently against the door. She looks over her shoulder and smiles at him, but quickly goes back to gazing at the newest addition to their family.

He walks over to the two of them, placing a kiss on the top of her head before wrapping his arm around her shoulder and embracing her. There are a multitude of reasons why she might be in here - the baby could’ve been crying, it could’ve been time for a change or a feeding, or Amy simply could’ve missed her, could’ve wanted to hold her and watch her breathe. He suspects it’s the last one, but he doesn’t ask. He doesn’t want to disturb the peaceful scene in front of him.

He reaches a finger down to their baby, taps at her hand, until she opens her fist and wraps all of her tiny fingers around that one of his. Amy turns her face and nuzzles his shoulder, relaxing against him.

He’d never had a particularly happy life.

But standing here now, both his wife and his daughter in his arms, he knows nothing but.

send me a number and a pairing (preferably laurie x amy) and i'll write you a mini fic!

#amy x laurie #laurie x amy #little women #little women 2019 #amy march #theodore laurence #idk if this even fits the prompt?????#idk i've wanted to write this for a long time and finally took the opportunity #hope you like it anon!#anons are beautiful #thank you for the ask!

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heauxplesslydevoted · 3 years

Text

Water (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

A/N: I finally finished the Miami shower sex fic. It’s roughly ~5K words of nonsense, 60% is filth, and the urge to re-write it is strong, but here it is.

Enjoy!

~v~

Being in Miami with Naomi unnerves Ethan in ways he can’t articulate. They aren’t in the confines of the hospital, bound by the strict boss and subordinate boundaries he’s attempted to set for them. And while they’re in the city for a medical conference, he can’t help but feel like he’s just Ethan and she’s just Naomi.

Her presence is overwhelming and intoxicating. From the way she took charge and ordered them drinks on the plane, to the way her luggage spills over their shared hotel suite despite being checked in for less than 3 hours, to the way it feels effortless just walking along the beach with her, Ethan can’t escape her and the role she’s slipped into feels too familiar and comfortable, which actually gives off the opposite effect. It terrifies him.

“We’re in Miami, for goodness’s sake, our hotel is literally on the water, and we are going to the beach,” is what Naomi told him after she slipped out of her plane clothes and put on something more appropriate for the warm Miami weather. She didn’t give him any time to object–and boy did he want to–before catching his wrist and dragging him out of their hotel room.

And that’s how he ended up taking a walk on the beach, the hot sand sticking to his toes, Naomi by his side. For reasons he’s not ready to face, he can’t say no to her and it’s infuriating. But on the flip side, the way her cheeks turn up and eyes sparkle at the enjoyment of the little things like this make his insides twist, and he’s a prisoner to her happiness.

“Come on, we’re hundreds of miles away from the hospital, the beautiful sun is beaming down on us, and there’s nothing but warm sand and ocean breeze around us. You have to admit that this is nice,” Naomi urges, poking Ethan in between the ribs.

They came to Miami on a mission, and that was to get help for Naveen and also fulfill his duties to the hospital. Frolicking on the beach was nowhere on the agenda.

“We’re here for work. And besides, I could be spending this time catching up on sleep or enjoying our air conditioned suite. That’s my definition of nice.”

“I swear, you probably came out of the womb a grumpy old man,” Naomi teases. “At least try to unwind.”

“The fact that you managed to drag me out here is testimony enough, don’t you think?”

“Nope,” Naomi says, leaving no room for debate. This is one of those times where Ethan isn’t all that enamored by her stubbornness.She sits down in the sand, throwing down her sandals. She extends a hand, and after a few seconds Ethan sighs and begrudgingly accepts it, allowing her to pull him down as well.

“Now close your eyes,” Naomi orders, watching Ethan closely to see if he listens. Once he realizes that she isn’t going to stop glaring at him, he closes them. “Thank you.”

“I’m only doing this so you’ll eventually leave me alone.”

“Always the fuddy duddy. Can you sit in complete and utter silence for 10 seconds? Please?”

Something about the way she says that word only adds to the list of things she does that make him uneasy. Only because he hates the way he responds to her plea, something stirring in the pit of his stomach.

It’s hard for him to handle the stillness of the moment. He’s gotten too used to always moving, always having something to do, but he sucks it up and tries.

“When was the last time you took a vacation?” Naomi asks.

“Is it bad to say I don’t know?”

“Yes. I’d kill to have your vacation days.”

“Well what about you?”

“I went to Aspen with my family for Christmas last year,” Naomi replies. “We used to go on at least one vacation a year when I was a kid. I don’t know how much of that I’ll be doing with my residency, but it’s nice to get away, even if it’s for a few days, you know?”

“I do. I think it’s been a solid three years since I had a real vacation. I went to Italy.”

“Rome?”

“Florence.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Of course.” Ethan feels her thumb trace a circle on the inside of his palm, and that’s when he notices that they never stopped holding hands when she pulled him down, and his pulse skitters. Part of him believes Naomi doesn’t notice she’s doing it, so he stays silent.

“Do you speak Italian?”

“I’m fluent in all of the Romance languages,” Ethan admits.

Naomi scoffs and playfully nudges him with her shoulder. “No one likes a show-off, polyglot.”

“What about you?”

“I speak very minimal French. My grandma taught me some basics when I was a kid and spent my summers with her, and I tried to fine tune my skills in high school, but I’m not fluent.”

This is the first time he’s heard her talk about her family, even a little bit, and he clings to the information as if it’s precious.

This time when the conversation tapers, Ethan actually doesn’t mind the silence, and he revels in the presence of the pretty intern beside him, her hand still warm in his.

“I should’ve booked you a spa treatment,” is how Naomi eventually breaks the silence. Ethan’s eyes snap up and he stares at her. “What?”

“I don’t think I’m a spa treatment kind of guy.”

“The sauna could be nice. Or a mud bath.”

“You’re such a comedian, Rookie.”

“I’m serious!” Naomi leans forward and presses her thumb between his eyebrows, gently massaging the crease. “I think a day at the spa would be good for you. Relatively speaking, you’re too young to be getting wrinkles.”

“What does that mean, relatively speaking?”

“You’re young in comparison to the average life span, but compared to me you’re…”

Ethan raises an eyebrow in challenge. “Are you trying to call me old?”

“It’s fine,” Naomi assures him. “Lucky for you, I like older guys.”

As soon as the words leave her mouth, Naomi realizes her grave mistake. She’s said too much, revealed her slip, and the double meaning of the sentence hangs in the air between them. Ethan’s eyes widen. His eyes fall on their still interlocked fingers before flitting back to her face, and that’s when Naomi notices that they’ve been holding hands. This entire time.

Ethan leans forward, until their faces are mere centimeters apart. Feeling bold, he takes one of her loose ringlets, curling it around his finger.

“Ethan, I–”

He stands so abruptly, Naomi almost falls over but she catches herself with her hands.

Ethan clears his throat, trying to center himself. What the hell was he thinking, nearly kissing his intern? How did he get so caught up that he almost crossed that line?”

Naomi stands up, wiping off the back of her shorts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, Dr. Valentine.”

The name change feels like a physical strike. He hasn’t called her by her formal title the entire time they’ve been out here, but now she’s back to Dr. Valentine?

“Are you sure because I could’ve sworn that you were about to–”

“You know what? I think I’ve had enough of this beach excursion for the day, and I’m going to rest before we have to go to the party later on?”

A party? Where the fuck did that come from? “Ethan, slow down. A party? What party are you talking about?”

“Every year there’s a party hosted in conjunction with the party. It’s a black tie event, so please dress accordingly. See you later.”

His long legs carry him away before she can even reply, and he’s trudging back to the hotel, leaving Naomi more confused than she was ten minutes ago.

They were sharing a moment and Ethan was going to kiss her…right? This isn’t some fever dream, she didn’t just make that up, it is a fact. And just as fast as they were connecting, he put up a wall and shut her out.

She sits down again, ruminating over the situation and trying to wrap her head around it all.

After a while, annoyance forms in the pit of her stomach. Ethan doesn’t get to just play with her like a ping pong. And if she misread the situation, he should be big enough to tell her that to her face, not run off. And the more she thinks about it, the more she stews, and the annoyance turns into anger simmering under her skin. She stands, brimming with righteous indignation. He doesn’t get to walk away from her, and she’s going to tell him as such.

The trek back to the hotel only makes her angrier, because she only has time and opportunity to think, especially with the long elevator ride up to their suite. Once she makes it to the room and the door shuts behind her, she hears some shuffling around coming from the en-suite as well as running water.

“Ethan, I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you need to explain whatever that was on the beach,” Naomi starts. She doesn’t get an immediate response from him. “The walls aren’t that freaking thick, I know you can hear me.” She inches closer to the door and notices that it’s been left slightly ajar. “And you left the door open, genius. Now I really know you can hear me.”

Maybe the walls really are that thick because she thinks she hears him talking, but it’s muffled. She almost lets it go until she hears a gruff, “Naomi!” come from the other side of the door.

So he can hear her. Good! Because she has a lot to say. She doesn’t give it a second thought, she charges towards the bathroom and forcefully pushes open the door.

What on earth was she thinking, barging into the bathroom like a bat out of hell?

The correct answer to that is she wasn’t thinking, fueled only by her need to argue with the infuriating man who left her on the beach like an idiot.

And now she’s standing in front of him and he’s stark naked.

The professional clothes and the white coat he wears at the hospital do an amazing job of keeping him contained, but here in this bathroom, Naomi realizes for the first time just how massive this man is. Tall isn’t enough of a description. His wide shoulders lead down to powerful arms, all corded muscle and tension. His chest, those defined pecs and a six-pack. Of course he’d be built like this underneath those clothes. Like a Greek fucking god. Of course.

That still isn’t what steals her breath straight from her body. It’s his hand, strong and powerful, wrapped around the base of his cock.

She should really say something. Apologize profusely. Beg to keep her spot in the competition, beg to keep her job at Edenbrook period. But she can’t. Any form of coherent or rational thought has been banished from her brain, and this soaking wet image of her boss is the only thing running through her mind.

Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates.

And if he’s still thinking about the moment they shared less than an hour ago, coupled with the fact that she heard him call out her name, it’s safe to assume that Dr. Ethan Ramsey masturbates to thoughts of her.

The realization makes her flame, and Naomi swears her body temperature has spiked to near feverish. And the fact that Ethan isn’t doing anything to right the situation—putting his hands in a more appropriate place, saying something, yelling at her to leave—only makes things more insane. He keeps his eyes fixed on her, his gaze so intense, she swears he can see her brain.

The angel on Naomi’s shoulder is screaming at her to stop gawking at him like some fish out of water, but she can’t. Now that she’s seen him, really seen him, she doesn’t know how she’ll ever go back to him being anything other than this, six feet, five inches, 200 pounds of pure unadultered sex.

The urge to touch him is so strong, she doesn’t think she’ll be able to do anything else until her hands are on him.

Swallowing whatever nerves are trying to creep up, Naomi takes a tentative step forward, and reaches for the glass door. The glass pane slides away so slowly, she almost wonders if it’s her subconscious giving her enough time to bolt before she makes even more of an ass of herself, but she ignores whatever annoying voice in her head is telling her to go.

“I’m not an idiot, Ethan. I’m not naive, and I’m not blind.” Naomi takes another step forward, the steam of the shower and a light spray of warm water hitting her face. Gingerly, her hand finds purchase on his chest, and they settle on his left pec.

His heart is beating so wildly, Naomi actually gasps at the erratic thumping beneath her fingertips. “Naomi–”

“I was so confused earlier,” Naomi confesses. “I thought you and I had been vibing these past few weeks, I thought you and I actually had something. And then we had our near first kiss earlier, but you pushed me away and ran off faster than a lightning strike, and I was hurt, and convinced that I completely misread the situation. So imagine my surprise when I walk in on this. You are horribly affected by me.”

“Naomi.” The way he says her name is so much rougher than it was previously, and it sends a shiver down her spine. Yup. So affected.

“It’s okay though, you don’t even have to say anything,” she continues. Taking Ethan’s free hand, she places it on her own chest so Ethan can feel her own erratic heartbeat. “Because trust me, I feel the exact same way.”

He doesn’t say anything else, opting to pull her in by the front of her t-shirt instead, what very little restraint he had over himself gone in this instant. The full blast of water comes as a shock, but Naomi can’t even react to it before Ethan slants his mouth over hers, pulling her into a bruising kiss.

The first thing she notices is just how rough his stubble is as it scrapes her mouth. The second thing is she probably would have fallen over due to how forcefully he pulled her into the shower, and she’s thankful his grip on her is as tight as it is.

Fireworks. A million fireworks going off at the same time. That’s what kissing Ethan feels like.

He sets the pace, but she kisses him back with just as much fervor. He kisses her like they have all the time in the world and none at all, passionate and intense, like he wants to devour her.

Her lungs protest against this endeavor, practically begging her to inhale something other than Ethan. But she doesn’t want to stop kissing him, even if it’s just for a second.

Thankfully Ethan makes the first move to separate them, breaking the kiss. His tongue licks along her neck and her head falls back in pleasure. So caught up in their kiss, it’s easy for Naomi to forget that she’s fully clothed, Ethan tugging at the fabric of her shirt quickly reminding her.

The water has the clothes clinging to her like a second skin, and Naomi giggles at the frustrated huffs Ethan lets out in his quest to undress her. The giggle turns into a full on squeal as she hears the telltale sound of a rip as her t-shirt ends up on the shower floor, followed by her shorts, and Naomi has to kick off her sandals to assist.

Once her clothes are in a sopping wet heap on the floor, Ethan regains control of the situation. Naomi’s back is pressed against the cold marble wall and Ethan’s mouth is on hers again, bruising and hard. It’s almost like he wants to punish her through his kisses.

“I have tried my absolute hardest to keep you at arms length,” is the first full sentence he’s said since Naomi entered the bathroom. “I compartmentalize my feelings for you, I am constantly reminding myself of our power dynamic. And you just keep inching your way closer at every single turn despite my best efforts.”

Naomi hums in reply. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been trying to keep me away in the first place.”

He’s kept her away because he knew. Ethan knew Naomi would find a way to get under his skin, leaving him to feel open and raw like he just got scrubbed with sandpaper. Having her like this is a fantasy come true, and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that once this line is crossed, he’ll never want to go back. He can be a selfish bastard sometimes.

“If we do this then–”

“I’m a big girl, Ethan,” Naomi assures him. One of her hands reaches in the tiny space between them, and she grips his erection. Ethan shudders and leans forward, crowding her space even more as she strokes him at a leisurely pace. “And we can talk about all of the messy stuff later, but right now, talking is the last thing on my mind.”

“Alright, Rookie. Enough talking.”

Her underwear is off before another word can be uttered.

Naomi isn’t sure what she was expecting, but he slides two fingers inside of her before she can think, and the sharp intrusion leaves her gasping. Ethan doesn’t treat her with kid gloves, the quite opposite actually. Whatever sound she’s going to make, he quickly swallows with a kiss.

Naomi is expressive. It’s one of the first things Ethan noticed about her. She’s going to be seen and heard at all times, and that extends to the bedroom. And since he has effectively cut her off with a kiss, Naomi sinks her nails into him, one set on his shoulder, the others raking through his hair, urging him to continue his ministrations. Good.

He breaks the kiss, leaving a trail of tiny kisses and bites along her jaw, neck, and collarbone, paying special attention to her nipples, lavishing them with his tongue. He drops to his knees in front of her, urging her to lean backwards against the wall behind them and Naomi does so without an ounce of hesitation.

The one hand not currently playing her like a fiddle runs along the smooth expanse of her curves, tracing every dimple and mark he can find. He does this until his eyes fall on the tiny tattoo marking her skin, resting on her hip. “I never took you as a tattoo kind of girl.”

“I have a few secrets left to tell, Ramsey.”

“Why on your hip?”

“My parents would’ve killed me if I got it somewhere visible,” Naomi explains breathlessly as Ethan continues to stroke her, slowly coaxing her towards an orgasm.

Ethan places a kiss on her left hip, right below the tattoo as if it’s to be revered before sucking a mark on it. Something to remember him by.

“Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“Eyes on me,” Ethan commands her. It’s a tough task because the steam and the water have made it difficult to see and she would enjoy nothing more than to close her eyes and fully revel in what he’s doing to her, but they manage to lock eyes. “Good girl.”

The first swipe of his tongue against her makes her legs buckle, but thankfully Ethan keeps her upright.

His fingers curl inside of her, and Naomi swears her vision goes blurry for a second, but not once do her eyes waver from his. Ocean blue irises hold her gaze, and she feels like they’re burning her from the inside out. Everything is hot, too hot, but at the same time she feels like she might go insane without it.

The strokes are slow and languid. In, out, curl, twist, keeping pace with the way his tongue laves against her clit. Soon her breathless whimpers become more ragged, more labored and she grabs a handful of Ethan’s hair, tugging it so hard, she’d worry about actually pulling it out if she cared about anything other than finding the edge of the cliff he’s so close to pushing her off. Ethan can tell she’s close. The incessant tugging at his scalp, the increasingly louder moans, and the way her hand slaps against the wet tile.

She knows it’s coming, but her orgasm takes her by surprise, pleasure seizing her at the base of her spine. Her legs tense up and her entire body falls forward, taking Ethan with her. He cushions her fall, and they both land with a hard thud.

Naomi giggles again. And soon that giggle becomes a full on laugh, so uncontrollable that Ethan wonders if she’s snapped.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just never…fallen over during sex before,” saying that out loud makes her laugh again.

“And is this a good thing?”

Naomi leans forward and kisses Ethan, smiling through it. “We’ll you’re the first guy to ever make my legs give out in the middle of an orgasm so…yes. I’d say it’s a very good thing.”

Well that is a healthy ego boost, Ethan thinks to himself. “Good to know.”

When blood circulation has returned to her legs, Naomi stands up, pulling Ethan along with her. She deposits him on the spacious bench built in along the back wall of the shower and he falls onto the seat with a hard thud.

He watches through hooded lids as Naomi straddles him, undulating against him in a way that makes him want to take control and bury himself to the hilt inside her.

“Question for you, Ethan Ramsey,” Naomi starts.

“Answer for you, Naomi Valentine.”

“When I walked in here, were you thinking about me? Was I the subject in your dirty little fantasy?”

“Always,” Ethan is shocked by how breathless the answer comes out, but at this point, pride and ego aren’t needed. Not when they’re like this. “Since day one, I have been consumed with nothing but thoughts of you.”

“Mhmm, what was I doing in this particular fantasy?” Naomi asks. She takes him into her hands, and at a tortuous pace, rubs the swollen tip of his erection against her clit, drawing out a moan from the older man.

His memory fails him. Nothing he conjures up in his head will ever be comparable to the sight of a naked Naomi in his lap. She’s so beautiful, water droplets clinging to her skin, lips kiss swollen, loose strands of hair clinging to the sides of her face, her round cheeks flushed.

He doesn’t remember what the fantasy entailed, he just knew this woman’s presence was so overwhelming, if he didn’t expel some of the tension, he wouldn’t survive going to a black tie event with her.

“I don’t know. I don’t care,” Ethan says honestly. “The real you is so much better.”

“I think I like that answer.”

Ethan lifts her by the hips and in one smooth thrust, he’s fully sheathed inside of her. He notices that way Naomi’s eyes are fixed on where they’re joined, glazed over by pleasure and he’s never seen something so erotic.

She starts to move, slowly at first because she’s still way too sensitive from her last orgasm to do anything else. But the slow pace she sets does nothing to ease her, it only makes things worse. Every slow glide, every brush of his pelvis against her is magnified tenfold, and the heat she felt earlier has turned into a bull blown inferno, consuming every inch of her. But now, the only way out is through, and she’s trapped in a delicious purgatory until the next wave hits. It only intensifies when Ethan’s mouth closes around one of her nipples, sucking fiercely. “Oh, fuck.”

He releases the bud with a soft ‘pop’, pulling a soft groan from her lips. Her head falls back, but Ethan catches a fistful of her hair and drags her back, forcing her to make eye contact. “Eyes on me, Rookie. I want to see your face.”

The tiny pinpricks of pain at her scalp give way to pleasure as his grip on her tightens. “Harder.”

Ethan smirks and wordlessly obeys the order, pulling Naomi’s hair even harder as she moans. Huh. He’s going to tuck this information away for a later date and time.

The hand not holding her hair goes back to her hip and he squeezes tightly before guiding her up and down. And that’s when the pressure starts building again, up, and up, and up, until the only sounds that can be heard are the obscene slaps of their wet skin and her broken whimpers. His hand leaves her hip, not having to move far before his thumb is on her clit, working it in soft circles.

Naomi comes so hard, her teeth chatter and she’s almost afraid of cracking them. Unable to keep up the eye contact, she leans forward, resting her forehead against his. He gives her a second to catch her breath before he rocks into her, trying to chase his own release.

“Naomi, I…fucking I’m going to–”

She nods, understanding exactly what he’s trying to say. She bites down on his earlobe, tugging. “Inside me.” Then she kisses the patch of skin right below his ear and grinds against him once more. “Or on the tattoo.”

Holy fuck. That alone sets him off like a bottle rocket. He bites down on her shoulder hard enough to break skin.

His heart beats so wildly, he doesn’t know if it will ever return to its normal resting state. With his arms wrapped around her like this, he wonders if this is their new normal. How that he’s been with her like this, how on earth will she go back to being his subordinate. Everything about her feels like euphoria, her taste, her touch, her scent is embedded in him, so deep in his skin, she might as well be woven into his DNA. But the thing about it is, he’s not sure he wants it to.

On top of being a selfish bastard at times, he is wildly possessive.

It takes a long time for them to separate , neither one of them wanting to move or disrupt the peaceful little bubble they’ve created within the confines of this shower.

Eventually Ethan pulls Naomi off of him, but his grip on her remains steady. He stands as well and reaches behind him, grabbing the bottle of shower gel he has on the shelf. It isn’t until the clean scent of citrus and sea salt hits her nose does Naomi realize he’s using his shower gel. A chill sweeps through her. Sure they just had sex–great sex even–but sharing this man’s shower gel is a subtle intimacy that she wasn’t prepared for, and her chest goes tight.

“I smell like you,” Naomi murmurs sleepily.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Of course not, you always smell good. I do draw the line at sharing shampoo. Whatever shit you use might destroy my hair.”

Ethan snorts. “I saw the amount of hair goop you stuffed into your suitcase. Trust me, I won’t get in the way of that routine.”

Once they’re both sufficiently lathered, they duck under the water to rinse off, and they finally step out of the shower. The entire room is full of steam, and Naomi almost feels bad that they wasted so much hot water. God, her skin is going to be so dry if she doesn’t moisturize soon.

Ethan wraps her in a large white terry cloth bathrobe before wrapping a towel around his waist.

“I’m still mad that you didn’t give me any sort of notice about this party,” Naomi huffs. Ethan rolls his eyes and takes a step forward, his hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her closer until her back is firmly against his chest.

“It’s in a few hours, how much more notice do you need?”

“What if I didn’t pack an appropriate dress?” Naomi implores hypothetically. “Or shoes?”

He shrugs. “I have a credit card, and this hotel has a boutique.”

“Well lucky for you, and your wallet, I packed a few dresses,” Naomi says. Her mother taught her to be prepared for any situation, including the spur of the moment black tie event. “I’ll pull together something decent.”

“You’re beautiful, you always look more than decent.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere with me, Ramsey.”

Using the palm of her hand, Naomi wipes some of the steam off of the mirror in front of them and takes a good look in the mirror. She looks thoroughly debauched. It’s going to take a miracle to pull herself together with just a few hours’ notice.

She also notices the dark mark blooming on her right shoulder, outlined by teeth marks. Ethan’s bite is only going to get darker and more prominent as time ticks on.

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to cover up this mark you gave me though.”

Ethan slides the robe off of her shoulder to examine the bite mark. He runs his thumb along it soothingly before planting a kiss on the spot. “I have a solution.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

Instead of replying immediately, Ethan bends down slightly and scoops up Naomi, bridal style. “How about I give you a matching one on the left shoulder?”

~v~

Tags: @openheartfanfics @mvalentine @choicesaddict5 @professorkingslay @maurine07 @aka-calliope @bluebellot @whimsicallywayward15 @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @jamespotterthefirst @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @paulfwesley @the-pale-goddess @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramseyx @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @cecilecontrera @thatysn @bellcat2010 @blainehellyes @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey @uneravine @choicest @schnitzelbutterfingers

#ns*fw #choices: stories you play #open heart #ethan ramsey #ethan x mc

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rhysismydaddy · 3 years

Text

Casual Ruin pt. 4 (Elriel)

Elain’s part of the Damnation Series

~Elain~

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

That’s what I’m supposed to say, right? That’s what they say in movies, I think. Does it count if it isn’t in Italian?

I rub a hand across my forehead, shaking my head at myself. I’m not even religious. I haven’t been to church since I grew out of the pastel pink Easter dress my mother used to love forcing me into.

Yet here I am, sitting in a dark, hot box, attempting to confess my sins.

I think I’m losing it.

Five days with no Azriel, and I’m turning to religion.

The dark shadow on the other side of the confessional doesn’t help me in the slightest or even tell me if I’m doing this right. He just sits in silence and waits for me to pour my heart and soul out.

So I say, in an embarrassingly shaky tone, “Well, I... I’ve been sleeping with someone.”

That gets me a low hm.

“Someone I shouldn’t have.” Before he can get the wrong idea, I blurt, “He’s not married or anything. At least, I don’t think so. God, what if he’s married? Oh, I probably shouldn’t say God’s name in vain in church. Sorry.”

Father gives a deep sigh, and I take that to mean I should hurry up. “Anyway, he’s just... not a good guy. I won’t confess his sins for him, but believe me, he’s committed his fair share.”

Still nothing.

I think he’s waiting for the actual confession part of this thing.

So I say the words I’ve been trying to fight for the last five days. “I told him I don’t want to see him anymore, but I don’t think... I don’t think that’s really true.”

Another hm, this time more thoughtful.

“I keep thinking about him, all the time. Even though I know it’s wrong. He’s like a tumor.”

There’s a huff, like he’s amused.

“I’m worried I’m not a good enough person to say away from him,” I murmur quietly, which is the understatement of the century.

I know I’m not, which is why I’m here.

I’m pre-confessing, because if the way Azriel’s been on my mind the past couple of days is any indication, it’s only a matter of time before I get desperate enough to call him and tell him his... occupation doesn’t change things.

There’s a bit of a pause, like he doesn’t know how to reply, and then for the first time, I get an actual response. In a very thick, very German accent, the... priest? replies, “His sins are not yours.”

He’s taking the stance opposite of what I thought he would, but that’s a good point. Good enough I don’t bother asking myself why a German priest is in an Italian church.

“True, but if I stay with him, aren’t I condoning them? Don’t they become mine?”

“His sins are not yours,” he repeats.

Helpful.

I’m about to ask for a little bit of actual advice when he asks, “Do you regret it?”

“No,” I answer almost immediately, knowing that no matter how much I hate what Azriel does, I could never regret the time I spent with him.

He’s silent, probably thinking of my punishment for being such a scheming harlot.

I’ll likely have to do a million hail Mary’s once this conversation is over.

But instead of telling me I’m going to hell, he surprises me by asking, “So you plan to sleep with him again?”

There was something familiar about the tone of his voice, but I don’t know anyone German, so I don’t ponder it for long. His question doesn’t require pondering, either.

“No,” I answered with fake certainty, even though the thought of never having Azriel’s calloused hands all over me makes me unspeakably sad.

“Are you sure? Forgiveness from the Lord requires... repentance.”

I sigh at that, hesitating even though I shouldn’t. “I’m sure. No matter how much I want to or think about it, I can’t.”

“I think you should.”

My mouth drops open, not only because the words he just said or the sudden disappearance of his accent, but because the screen separating me from the man on the other side of the confessional drops, revealing the bane of all my problems.

Azriel sticks a cigarette between his full lips, lights it casually, and smiles the devil’s smile.

“What the hell are you doing in here?” I demand, barely resisting the urge to fling myself over to his side and strangle him.

“Listening to a very insincere confession.” Even though I narrow my eyes in the most threatening gesture I can make, he continues, “You know, if you feel like you need punishing, I can always take you over my knee.”

A strange tingle shoots through me and makes my spin straighten, but I ignore it and glare at him harder.

“You shouldn’t be here.” I look him over, ignoring how good it is to see him and asking, “Aren’t you worried you’re going to catch on fire?”

He grins, blowing smoke around him. “If I’m the devil, does that make you my angel?”

“I’m not your anything.”

He just watches me and smokes his cigarette, something I’m sure is frowned upon in church. Probably right beneath sneaking into a private confessional.

“Are you even religious?”

My lips twitch as I lie and say, “Recently converted.”

Azriel braces his arms in the small hole of the wall between us, looking unconvinced. “Yeah? What are the Ten Commandments?”

My head tilts as my eyes narrow. “I don’t know them all, but I have to believe one is about not killing people.”

“Number six,” he tells me, surprising me with the fact that he knows that. “You know, there’s also one about not stealing. And I happen to know for a fact you stole my sunglasses that day we were on the beach.”

Comparing those two sins is so ridiculous, a laugh bubbles out of me. He killed someone, yet by his logic I’m just as bad a sinner.

I knew this religion thing wasn’t for me.

“Why are you here, Azriel?” I ask, trying to get back to normal footing.

He takes so long to respond, I’m almost convinced he isn’t even going to bother. He runs a hand across his jaw, through his hair. Looks around at the plain little booth. Smokes some more.

When I’m about to give up and just leave, he says quietly, “I can’t stop thinking about you, either.”

My heart starts to pick up pace. “Yeah?”

I know I shouldn’t encourage this conversation, but hearing that he thinks about me the way I think about him... it means something to me.

“Yeah,” he agrees after a few moments, reaching out to tuck my hair behind my ear.

It falls silent, and something grows in the silence, building between us until all I’m aware of are the small sweeps of his thumb against my cheekbone.

I don’t know if he pulls me forward or if I take the step myself, but suddenly I’m right in front of him, our faces lined up through the small hole in the wall.

There’s a Bible in a little cubby that’s pressing into my stomach, and I’m sure there’s no better sign to resist sin than literal scripture digging into you, but I can’t bring myself to care.

It’s been less than a week without him, but it’s like my body is touched starved. The single inch where we’re connected is a live wire, and I close my eyes, trying to figure out what we were even talking about.

Releasing a tense breath that sounds a whole lot like relief, he slides his hand to the nape of my neck and leans his head to rest against mine.

“Fuck,” he says, like it’s an all-encompassing statement and not a single word. “Come back to me, carro.”

He smells like rain and smoke and something dangerous I never understood until now, and it’s so intoxicating I almost lose myself. Brushing my nose against his, I breathe him in over and over, never getting used to it. “You want me?”

A nod, so small it’s almost imperceptible. But it’s there, and we both know it.

Making sure my lips brush his, I lean in and whisper, “Then beg for me.”

He goes still, tension coming to rest in the hands still gripping my nape.

See, I realized something in the five days since I last saw him.

He wants me to say that him being in the mafia doesn’t change anything, confess to lying about it in the first place, and beg him to fuck me, yet hasn’t even apologized for lying to me in the first place.

Sure, I lied, but he got us in this mess, not me.

So he gets to beg.

Azriel pulls back, and there’s such dark depths in his eyes that I shiver. “What did you just say?”

I don’t respond, because I don’t need to. We both know he heard me.

He releases me with a huff, stepping back and practically growling, “No.”

Raising an eyebrow, I challenge, “Why is it different? You want me to confess to lying about saying that what you do changes things? Fine. I confess, Azriel. I have feelings for you that, whether or not I like it, outweigh the moral part of me that tells me to run in the opposite direction.”

Despite how casually I say it, that realization almost breaks me to admit.

I realized it when he popped up in this booth, looking every bit the villain and completely making my day. Wrong or not, he makes me happy.

“You have my confession, but you know what? I want yours.”

He shakes his head, seeming to not understand, so I elaborate. “I want you to actually apologize for lying to me. I want you to admit that you put me in an impossible situation, then acted like it wasn’t a big deal. And I want you to beg for my forgiveness.”

The muscles in his jaw are clenched so hard I don’t think he can even open his mouth, but he manages to say, “That will never happen.”

Something inside my chest collapses, so suddenly and painfully I can’t hardly breathe. I hadn’t realized how much I needed it until now, how much it actually meant to me.

The fact that he won’t make that compromise for me threatens to send my emotions scattering, so I stiffen my spine and force the words out.

“Then we’re done.”

He smacks a hand against the wall of the booth but doesn’t say anything, not even as I fling open the door and flee.

I rush through the thankfully empty pews and outside, right into a downpour.

The urge to laugh rises as I become instantly soaked, my dress sticking to me and my hair flattening to my head. It isn’t funny, and would be considered normal any other time or place, but we’ve had a month of paradise without a single rainy day.

Until right now. It’s almost like the sky’s mood matches mine.

Practically running, I make my way towards the townhouse. At least it’s close, I think as I hurry. If it was far away I’d probably collapse in a side alley and just let the rain wash me away.

When I reach the door, unlocking it in a hurry, I feel someone walk up behind me. Stepping inside, I turn to see Azriel staring down at me.

Rain washes over the planes of his face, and while I probably look like a wet rat, he looks like something out of a movie.

"Why do you need this?” he asks, the anger thick in his voice.

“Why do you?”

He doesn’t make a move to come in, practically ignoring the rain as he asks in a dry tone, “You mean why do I need to hear that what I do and have done--that this fucking life I was forced into--doesn’t make me a monster?”

“Azriel-”

“Because you’re the one person in this entire goddamn world who knows me.”

I give him a look that conveys how little I believe that.

I don’t know anything about him. That’s the problem.

He shakes his head. “You know who I could’ve been, Elain.”

It’s my turn to shake my head, because I don’t understand.

He seems to make the decision of whether or not to tell me at once, saying, “Who I could’ve been if I hadn’t been born into a sadistic fucking family who beat the shit out of me for existing.”

Raw anguish lines his voice, and I stop breathing, stop thinking.

“You know who I wanted to be, who I dreamed of being, when I was in the hospital with a fractured skull or in lockup for stealing a car to run away.” He throws a hand out, yelling, “I didn’t ask for this shit! I wanted to be who I am with you. But when someone came and said they could get me out of the life I knew would kill me, I fucking said yes. And I don’t regret it.”

Tears are streaming down my face, mixing with the rain bouncing off the door. I never knew. “Azriel...”

“The day my older brother took a hammer to my hands because I scratched his CD was the last time I apologized. And I haven’t begged for anything since I was old enough to know better.”

There’s a set to his jaw, a hardness in his body I’ve never seen. “But none of this shit even matters, and it isn’t an excuse, because you’re right.”

The rain comes somehow harder, almost drowning us, but I’m rooted to this spot.

Especially as Azriel slowly lowers himself to his knees, right there on the threshold of the door.

“I’m sorry, Elain. I’m sorry I lied to you and put you in this position and acted like an ass about it. I’m so fucking sorry.”

I shake my head again, whispering, “Stop.”

I can’t bear for him to be like this after hearing what he said, can’t bear to be the reason for the strain in his voice.

He doesn’t listen. Just looks up at me with such open, deep eyes I almost choke. “Please.”

A sob escapes me as I make the decision instantly, falling to my knees and throwing myself at him.

He grunts as we collide, but I capture the sound with my mouth, seeming to take him off guard as I kiss him without abandon.

His hair is like wet silk between my fingers, and I realize the door’s still open and that rain is still getting everywhere, but I don’t care about anything but him.

His hands grip my waist, holding me steady, as I kiss him until I’m breathless, until I know he’ll believe me.

“You’re not a monster,” I tell him, pulling back to palm either side of his face. “I know you, and I know you’re not a monster.”

He leans in again, but I keep going, knowing that he needs to hear this as much as I need to say it.

“I decided before I saw you today that what you do doesn’t change things for me. I just want you.”

The knowledge of how deep we’re in this settles between us, growing into something undeniable as we stare at each other.

This time, when he kisses me again, I don’t stop him.

We fall over, him landing on top of me, and roll until we’re far enough inside that he can kick the door closed.

It’s silent besides the sound of our breathing, the rain pounding against the windows, and the deep, wet slide of our mouths coming together.

I tug at the hem of his shirt, and he pulls back long enough to rip it off. His skin’s hot compared to the cool water all over us, and I’m dizzy on the feel of him. I feel like I can’t get enough, can’t have him fast enough.

His hands are rough against me, tilting my head where he wants it, gripping my hips, putting my arms above my head.

Reaching between us, he fists the thin fabric of my dress, and then there’s a ripping sound I don’t even care to protest because now his skin’s against mine, and I don’t think anything has felt better.

A thumb on my jaw pushes my head to the side, and then his mouth is on my neck and he’s kissing me over the spot where my pulse flutters as proof of my pounding heart.

I tug his belt open, and he toes his boots off, pulling back to finish getting rid of his jeans then settling back over me.

I tilt my hips up, not able to take the wait anymore, but he has more self control, taking the time to kiss my throat, my jaw, the tip of my nose.

“Please,” I beg. “I need you. Please, Azriel.”

He’s inside me with the next breath, filling me so deeply I can’t think.

“Merda,” he curses, forehead dropping to mine. “Questa figa e stata fatta per me.”

The dirty words just make me burn hotter.

Or maybe it’s the fact that I have one of the most dangerous men in the world between my thighs, waxing poetic about sex with me.

His teeth tug on my earlobe, and I arch up into him, making him sink deeper in me.

“Dimmi- shit,” Azriel chuckles, almost like he didn’t realize he wasn’t speaking English. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

Knowing that won’t happen, I nod and open my mouth to ask him to hurry up with it.

But I never get the chance, because the next second, he’s pulling out and slamming into me so hard I slide across the floor. I don’t get far, because one arm goes under my head to grip my shoulder and the other lifts my leg to keep it in place.

And then he starts to move.

His hips hit mine hard enough to bruise, his mouth is demanding against mine, and his grip on my shoulder is unshakeable. It’s rough and restrictive and something I never knew I needed.

He’s turned me into this wanton, thoughtless thing, and all I can do is burn and burn and pray I survive.

A moan escapes me with every thrust, almost like he’s pushing them out of me, and I know I’m loud enough the sweet old lady next door will hear, but I can’t stop.

“You have to be quiet, or this’ll be over before I’m ready,” he warns in a breathy voice that makes it even harder to keep quiet.

It gets worse as he starts to repeatedly hit the spot only he’s been able to find, like he’s in perfect sync with my body.

“Fuck, Azriel,” I moan, losing my mind at how good he feels against me.

I try to fight it off, try to prolong this longer, but one of his hands slips to my throat. And as he lightly squeezes the sides, the blood rushes through me in a heady current, I come so hard I almost pass out.

Shaking beneath him, I release a loud moan he covers my mouth to stifle. When he pulls it away, I see slight indentations and realize I must’ve bit him.

I make a note to apologize later. Even if the way his eyes go almost black tells me he isn’t mad about it.

I’m almost comatose, but he isn’t even finished. He just grits his teeth, pauses to throw my leg over his shoulder, and keeps going.

My hands grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and trying to keep him exactly where he is, doing exactly what he’s doing.

Thunder breaks outside, but it isn’t loud enough to mask the sound of us coming together or the moans he’s no longer masking.

Despite my body being sensitized and exhaused, when he cups my cheek, kisses me softly, and says, “Come with me,” I do.

He groans, hips churning messily against mine, as release finds us both. My legs shake, squeeze his waist like a vice, then go limp.

All of me does, actually. I’m boneless and pliant and couldn’t move if I was paid to.

Azriel isn’t much better off, collapsing on top of me and suffocating me with his warm weight.

“Holy shit,” I whisper after a moment, smiling at the amused huff he lets out.

Air starts to become hard to find, so he rolls off me, then sits to lean his back against the door.

“We’re on the floor,” he says, almost like he didn’t even notice before now.

I shrug, not caring in the slightest. “I can’t move, so we’re going to have to stay here.”

He chuckles, something entirely male in his eyes as he looks at me. My cheeks grow warm as he looks at the complete mess at apex of my thighs and murmurs, “Fuck, that’s pretty.”

“You are so inappropriate,” I mumble, covering my face with my hands.

Nodding his agreement, he grips my hips and practically drags me on top of him. “You like it, though,” he teases, putting a sweet kiss to my lips.

“I do,” I admit, kissing him again.

Something brushes against my thigh, and I look down between us, then raise a brow. I knew he had stamina, but this is...

“Consider it making up for lost time.”

A laugh bubbles out of me, and he smiles, one of those full, beautiful smiles I’m helpless to resist.

I know everything’s complicated now and I know he does horrible things, but when he smiles at me like that, it’s hard to care about anything except how happy he makes me. Right or wrong, good or bad, there’s something between us I’m powerless against.

“It’s been five days,” I remind him, running my hands up his chest and into his hair. “Better get started.”

The floor. The wall. The stairs. The shower.

He gives me a tour of my own house, fucking me on every inch of available space.

I’m just as much to blame, I guess. Any time he tries to do anything besides me, I tug him back, unable to stop myself.

He’s the drug I’m happily overdosing on, and fuck, does it feel good.

When we finally end up in bed hours later, I expect to immediately pass out. He definitely looks tired, and I’m sure I’m not much better, considering the amount of... activity my body’s been through tonight.

But despite the lingering exhaustion, we lay there, just looking at each other.

There’s still so much left unsaid, so many unanswered questions and untold stories, but I don’t want to ruin the moment by talking, much less asking questions, so I stay quiet.

His lips twitch, almost like he can see what I’m thinking.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he murmurs a second later, proving that thought correct. “I won’t lie to you again.”

I nod, thinking of what I want to ask first.

I also think about the pain in his eyes earlier, when he gave me that piece of himself. I don’t ever want to be the cause of that pain, so I ask something I assume is unrelated.

“Who was the man I hit with the wine bottle?”

The corner of his lips tip up. “That was Luca. I guess you could say he’s my friend, but more officially he’s my Underboss. We worked our way up through the ranks together.”

“You’ve known him a long time then?”

He nods, propping his head up with an arm. “We were in prison together.”

Questions bloom, but I don’t want to pry, so-

“I was sentenced to three years for grand theft auto and another for assaulting the cop who booked me. Luca was in for intent to sell.”

At my blank look, he says, “Drugs, Elain.”

“Oh.” I feel stupid as hell, so I deflect by asking, “You were cellmates?”

“No,” he laughs, running a hand over his jaw thoughtfully. “But after he saved my ass from getting jumped one day, we stuck together.”

It’s quiet until I ask, “How’d you get out?”

“Well, this was in Chicago-”

My eyes grow wide as I cut him off. “You’re from Chicago? You’re American?”

He laughs at the disbelief in my voice, nodding while my brain explodes. He’d never told me, but I’d just assumed he was born in Sicily.

“Anyway, this was in Chicago. I was seventeen, but got tried as an adult because of my record with juvie. I spent two years inside, then the Capo there just showed up one day and told me he could get me out.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” he says, rolling on his back and looking up at the ceiling. “I remember it like it happened yesterday. He’s only three years older than me, but he was wearing a two-thousand dollar suit and had everything I didn’t. He said he needed someone to work for him, to do the shit no one wanted to.”

Sliding closer, I prop my head up with a hand. “And that was you?”

“He said he looked at my records and that I had potential.” He laughs, almost unbelieving. “I was nothing more than an angry fuckup from the south side, and he said I had potential. He said he knew who my father and brothers were and could help me get revenge. I knew it was crazy, but I said yes. On the condition Luca got out, too.”

My eyebrows go up as he says, “We were out the next day.”

“Powerful friends,” I mutter.

He toys with the ends of my hair, slight smile on his face.

“I worked in Chicago for about a year, then was sent here. He said he needed someone over here he could trust. My family’s Italian, so I knew the language, and with my baggage, I wanted out of the city anyway.” He takes a deep breath, running his hand down my arm. “So I moved here and worked my way up.”

He picks my hand up, measuring the difference between our palms.

“And now you’re Capo.”

“Mmhm.”

Tugging my hand, he pulls me closer, burying his head in my neck and inhaling.

“I have the Capo of the Sicilian Mafia in my bed,” I remark almost unbelievingly, making him laugh.

He shifts to lay down, holding me in his arms, and I marvel at how small and delicate I feel with him. My head’s against his chest, and he’s curled around me, making me sigh.

“The Capo is a snuggler,” I murmur, running my hands across the smooth expanse of his back and smiling when he makes a low sound of contentment.

“I haven’t slept the past five days,” he tells me. “I couldn’t sleep without you in my bed. You have no idea how much it pissed me off at the time.”

Laughing, I snuggle closer. He’s so big and warm, and I’m so tired.

Eyes struggling to stay open, I realize I never told him something.

“You’re forgiven,” I whisper.

I feel his lips on my brow, kissing me so gently my heart clenches. And I swear I hear him say something, but I’m soo tired to stay awake to hear it.

I fall asleep in his arms, and even though he’s dangerous and everything I should hate, it’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt.

I’ve said the past month with him has felt like a fairy tale, and that’s true.

Maybe just not with the knight in shining armor, but with the villain instead.

______________________________________________

stole a couple lines from Danielle Lori

Part 5

@elorcan-trash @acreativelydifferentlove @loosingdreams @poisonous00 @januarystears @emikadreams @swankii-art-teacher @thedarkdemigod @full-tilt-diva @biggestwingspan-az @bookstantrash @mari-highladyof-feels @pilesofriles @teddytdr @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @bamchickawowow @live-the-fangirl-life @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @autophobiax @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @inardour @tillyrubes10 @tswaney17 @greerlunna @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#elriel #elriel fanfiction #elain archeron #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar fanfiction #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses

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princealberich · 3 years

Text

GENSHIN IMPACT NAME MEANINGS - MONDSTADT

I wanna preface this by saying that I am by NO MEANS an expert in languages! I’m fluent in English, and that’s it- I’m just very interested in name symbolism!

That being said- it appears that all the Mondstadt names are, in fact, canonically English- Most of the Chinese names translate directly back to their English counterpart 1 to 1. Despite this, I included any possible meaning in their Chinese names, just in case!

AETHER (ENG): A Greek God, the personification of the “Upper Sky”. Represents the air that the Gods breathe, rather than the air of mortals.

KONG 空 (CH): Empty, hollow, in vain, sky, air, free, spare time, free time.

SORA 空 (JP): Sky.

Notes: Definitely a correlation to the sky- With the Chinese translation, could be ‘Empty Sky’.

LUMINE (ENG): To light up, to illuminate.

YING 荧 (CH): Fluorescent, amazing, glimmering.

HOTARU 蛍 (JP): Firefly.

Notes: All linked to light. Could represent the light to Aether’s sky? The light that it’s missing?

PAIMON: An obedient king of Hell under Lucifer’s reign in “The Lesser Key of Solomon”, a book on demonology written mid-1700′s. He has 100-200 legions of demons and wears ‘a precious crown’.

“Teaches all arts, philosophy and sciences, and secret things; he can reveal all mysteries of the Earth, wind and water, what the mind is, and everything the conjurer wants to know, gives good familiars, dignities and confirms them, binds men to the conjurer's will.”

“If Paimon is cited alone, some offering or sacrifice must be done, and he will accept it; then two kings called Beball (Bebal or Labal) and Abalam (Abalim) will go to him together.”

Notes: ...I’m not saying that Paimon is the unknown God, but. Well. Also, Paimon’s name appears to be universal.

KAEYA (ENG): A feminine Indian name meaning ‘Monsoon Flower’. However, it’s also a phonetic translation of his original Chinese name.

KAIYA 凯亚 (CHI): This isn’t a name in any databases. 凯 (Kai) means ‘Triumphant’, while 亚 (Ya) means ‘Inferior, second’.

GAIA ガイア (JP): Pretty much another translation, though in Japanese, it can be loosely translated to ‘Victory song’.

Notes: This is a difficult one. Unless anyone else has a better grasp on languages and understands it, please let me know! However, it may allude to his and Diluc’s fight... Somehow. Triumphant second son, maybe?

AMBER (ENG): Fossilized tree resin. However, it’s also phonetically similar to the original name.

ANBO 安柏 (CHI): Again, this doesn’t seem to be a direct name. 安 (An) means “peace/quiet”, while 柏 (Bai) means “cypress tree/cedar”. Together it may mean a peaceful tree, but it could also just be a recreation of the English name ‘Amber’, due to their similarities.

ANBA アンバー (JP): Translates directly to ‘Amber’.

Notes: It’s at this point that I, a man who can only speak and read English, have made a mistake in doing this. I think her name really is just ‘Amber’, though.

LISA (ENG): ‘Devoted to God/Oath from God’.

LISHA 丽莎 (CH): 丽 means ‘Beautiful’, but this is pretty much just a direct translation of ‘Lisa’.

RISA リサ (JP): Translates directly to ‘Lisa’.

Notes: Her name is Lisa. Her name is just Lisa.

DILUC (ENG): I couldn’t find any names here, let alone meanings.

DILUKE 迪卢克 (CH): 迪 means ‘To enlighten’, 卢 means... ‘Old Rice Vessel’? I’m not sure. 克 can be translated to the name of the Seventh of the Legendary Flame Emperors.

DIRRUKU ディルック (JP): Appears to be yet another phonetic translation of his name.

Notes: Genuinely cannot find anything non-genshin related to the name Diluc. Maybe the Flame Emperor thing is intentional, given he’s a Pyro user?

Edit: Anon brought up that his name is likely taken from the latin word ‘Diluculum’, which means ‘Twilight’. Similarly, ‘Crepus’, his father’s name, translates to ‘Dusk’.

JEAN (ENG): ‘God is gracious’. Apparently, it’s of Medieval Scottish/English origin!

QIN 琴 (CH): Refers to the qin, a 7-stringed Chinese zither. “There are 3 category sounds produced by the Chinese Zither. Harmonics represents the sound from the heaven. Open strings represents the sound from the earth. Stopped strings represents the human beings.”

JIN ジン (JP): An actual Japanese name, most translations point to ‘human’ interpretations!

Notes: I’d wager that her name is meant to represent her humanity and love for Mondstadt, if it’s not just a translation.

BARBARA (ENG): Linked to Saint Barbara, whom was killed by her father. She’s the patron of architects, geologists, artillarymen and stonemasons. Very heavy religious connotations- It’s also worth noting the similarities to the name ‘Barbatos’, though.

BABALA 芭芭拉 (CH): Considering the repeat phonetic, I’m fairly sure this is just a recreation of the name ‘Barbara’.

BABARA バーバラ (JP): Translates directly to ‘Barbara’.

Notes: Just Barbara. She’s just Barbara.

BENNETT (ENG): “Blessed little one”, or a derivative of Benedict.

BANNITE 班尼特 (CH): Pretty much a direct translation of ‘Bennett’.

BENETTO ベネット (JP): Translates directly to ‘Bennett’.

Notes: baby boy

DIONA (ENG): A variant of “Dione”, from Greek mythology. Said to be the mother of Aphrodite, and means “From the Sacred Spring”... Possibly referring to the event in Diona’s backstory, in which she was granted her bartending talent by a ‘Spring Fairy’ that she befriended.

DIAONA 迪奥娜 (CH): Translation of Diona.

DIONA ディオナ (JP): Same as above.

Notes: If you want to know more about that, see Diona’s lv5 story!

FISCHL (ENG): A German surname meaning “Dweller at the sign of the little fish; the little dealer in fish.”

FEIXIEER 菲谢尔 (CH): Translates to “Fischer”, which is a similar German surname.

FISSHURU フィッシュル (JP): Translation.

Notes: “Prinzessin der Verurteilung” Translates to “Princess of Condemnation”. “Fischl von Luftschloss Narfidort” Translates to “Fischl from Narfidort Castle in the air”. I know this isn’t her real name, but I don’t want to spoil anyone, so I can do that separately.

VENTI (ENG): ...It’s a starbucks drink? But it also means ‘Twenty’ in Italian.

WENDI 温迪 (CH): Translates directly to “Wendy”, which... Might be a reference to ‘windy’? 温 translates to ‘Temperature’, while 迪 has no real word translation. ‘Wendy’ as an English name was popularized by Peter Pan! I wonder if that has anything to do with Venti’s eternally youthful appearance?

WENTI ウェンティ (JP): Translation.

Notes: “In demonology, Barbatos is an earl and duke of Hell, ruling thirty legions of demons and has four kings as his companions to command his legions. His name derives from Latin barbatus, meaning ‘bearded, old man, philosopher’.” Okay... That sure ain’t him.

On another note, maybe the English translation changed ‘Wendy’ to ‘Venti’ because it’s a traditionally feminine name.

Edit: @silver-dust-12 pointed out that ‘Venti’ means ‘winds’ in latin!

ALBEDO (ENG): Not actually a name. However, it IS a word. ‘The proportion of the incident light or radiation that is reflected by a surface, typically that of a planet or moon.’

On another note, in alchemy, it has a specific definition. Taken from wikipedia:

“In alchemy, albedo is one of the four major stages of the magnum opus, along with nigredo, citrinitas and rubedo. It is a Latinicized term meaning "whiteness". Following the chaos or massa confusa of the nigredo stage, the alchemist undertakes a purification in albedo, which is literally referred to as ablutio – the washing away of impurities. This phase is concerned with "bringing light and clarity to the prima materia (personal material)".

The albedo is the second stage of alchemy. In this process, the subject is divided into two opposing principles to be later coagulated to form a unity of opposites or coincidentia oppositorum during rubedo.

Alchemists also applied it to an individual's soul after the first phase is completed, which entailed the decay of matter.”

ABEIDUO 阿贝多 (CH): Translation of ‘Albedo’.

ARUBEDO アルベド (JP): Translation of ‘Albedo’.

Note: Interestingly, his is the only name so far that is a pre-existing word... Apart from the Travelers’.

KLEE (ENG): A German surname that means ‘Clover’. Likely related to her clover symbolism!

KELI 可莉 (CH): This only brought back Genshin results, so... Pretty sure it’s just a translation of ‘Klee’.

KURE クレー (JP): Near certain this is another translation.

Note: I’d say the English is what it’s meant to be, here!

MONA (ENG): Means ‘Noble and Aristocratic’, which is pretty fitting.

MONA 莫娜 (CH): Translates to ‘Mona’.

MONA モナ (JP): Translates to ‘Mona’.

Notes: Easy one!

NOELLE (ENG): ‘Christmas’, or ‘Birth’. She was born in March, though...

NUOAIER 诺艾尔 (CH): Translates to ‘Noelle’. 诺 means ‘Promise’.

NOERU ノエル (JP): Translates to ‘Noel’, the masculine form of the name.

Notes: I find it a little weird that this is her name? But it could be due to the name’s involvement in religious texts. Also those roses look like shrek’s ears

RAZOR (ENG): “An instrument with a sharp blade or set of blades.” Another word name, fitting considering he wasn’t raised by humans.

LEIZE 雷泽 (CH): Almost a translation of ‘Razor’. Can’t find anything else.

REZA レザー (JP): Translates to ‘Leather’.

Notes: I mean, pretty self explanatory. Wolf boy.

SUCROSE (ENG): “A compound which is the chief component of cane or beet sugar.” Word name, again!

SHATANG 砂糖 (CH): Translates to ‘Granulated sugar’. Literally the Chinese word for sugar.

SUKUROOSU スクロース (JP): Translates to ‘Sucrose’.

Notes: Definitely compared to sugar... Which is cute :)

---

And that’s all of the currently released Mondstadt characters! I’ll follow this up with a Liyue post soon. sorry for how long it got, so remember to tag as ‘long post’ for your followers’ convenience!

#genshin impact #genshin impact names #genshin #genshin impact theory #paimon #i put a lot of work into this #if anyone wants individual ones for npcs/unreleased characters let me know!!!#long post

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ressyfaerie · 3 years

Note

Fanfic request: Kai/Tysons first kiss and how you think it would go down! (English Dub names please!) :)

This is sooo hard because I have at least 3856859 different AUs of their first kiss aaahhh. I can't decide if I want this one to be angsty, fluffy, or everything in between aaahh! Regardless, I’m going to write something good! Okay I’m done, it ended up being much longer than expected AND i really self-indulged in this one we've got flowers, cars- just I know you’ll like it.

I’m popping this into a read more after the intro because it's a bit long for the dashboard lol.

“Is there a note?”

Ray eyed the flowers suspiciously.

Tyson held the wooden planter box in his arms, “uh- I don’t think so?”

“Who would send a planter box instead of just cut flowers?” Hilary thought it was the worst kind of romantic gesture.

“Look!” Max dug his hands into the flowers.

“What kind of flowers are these Tyson?” Ray asked, eyeing the blue petals with awe.

“They’re Himalayan blue poppies… They’re not easy to grow.”

Max pulled out a small slip of paper hidden in the stems.

“How do you know so much about gardening?” Hilary had no idea when he found the time to pick up a hobby that was so- unlike Tyson.

“I found my mother's old gardening books! I’ve been taking care of the dojo gardens on the weekends since grandpa’s back is so bad- what does the note say?”

Max read it out loud, “A unique flower, for a unique person.”

“Do we recognize the handwriting?” Kenny fixed his glasses, analyzing the situation.

“It’s been typed.” Max pointed out while flipping the note around for everyone to see.

Tyson inspected the flowers. He had never seen blue poppies before, they were one of his mother’s favourites.

“Whoever sent it, they know me well.” Tyson smiled.

“How come?” Ray asked.

“I don’t like cut flowers. I feel bad when they die. I like getting flowers that are alive.”

The room went quiet as everyone racked their brains trying to think of the possibilities.

“Who would know these things about you? Even we didn’t know you liked flowers!” Hilary pointed the fact out, some of the team members nodded, she had a good point.

“A lot of people know that I garden… But very few know that my mother really liked these flowers… She wrote about them a lot in her gardening books. To my knowledge, no one’s ever seen them but me, Grandpa, my dad, and maybe Hiro.”

Ray stroked his chin deep in thought, “It could have been a friendly gift? Not romantic at all?”

Tyson nodded, it could have been, but it felt- romantic. No one he knew would do something like this, it didn’t make sense.

“I’ll put them outside, for now, maybe we will think about it later.” Tyson left the room to place them in his corner garden outside.

The gravel crunched under his feet as he made his way to his small greenspace. He placed the planter with the rest of his stuff. He wondered who would have sent them, but he had no time to think; they had a party to attend at the BBA in less than two hours, and he still hadn’t even started to get ready.

As expected, the dojo was now in chaos. Like most teenagers, they left everything to the last minute. None of them had experience with formal attire.

“Does anyone here know how to tie a tie?!” Ray frantically displayed handfuls of ties.

“I do!” Kenny grasped one of the ties and tried to tie it on himself, before transferring it over to Ray.

Kenny was much too nervous to tie a proper knot, Ray found himself cringing as their time crunch got shorter and shorter.

Max had locked himself in the bathroom, probably doing his hair.

Hilary was god-knows-where, Tyson still wore regular clothes.

“Where’s Kai? Isn’t he the formal clothes expert?” Tyson fiddled with dragoon while sitting cross-legged in the middle of the dojo.

“That’s a good idea!” Kenny stopped trying to fiddle with Ray’s tie, “where is he?”

“Wait, wasn’t he driving some of us?” Mr. D said another driver will come to pick us up…”

“No, I’m certain we're all going in a limo.”

Tyson started to panic, stuck between trusting Kenny or Ray, now that was a difficult decision.

Hilary bellowed as she slammed the door open to the dojo. “Tyson! WHY aren’t you changed yet?”

“I!”

He started a lame excuse but she raised her voice again, “stop fiddling with that hunk of metal and go upstairs and put on your clothes right now!”

“Who died and made you boss of BBA formal parties?”

“I’m literally the party planner.” She rolled her eyes.

“Fine!” Tyson got up and dusted off his pants, “but I’m going to complain the whole time, and I’m taking a shower!”

“You don’t have time for a shower!” she slapped a hand to her forehead in exasperation.

“Too bad.” Tyson stuck his tongue out at her.

Upstairs, he took his time getting into the shower, it was fine if they were late for the party anyway, they didn’t have to be there on time.

He washed his body, got out, brushed his teeth, combed his hair, and blow-dried it. He even put on some make-up so he could feel extra fancy. He tied his hair up, admiring himself in the mirror, he looked so grown up now. His hair was long, and he loved tying it up traditionally. He ran a hand through his blue hair. He winked at himself, knowing he looked hot.

He opened the door with just a towel wrapped around his waist, he left clothes on his bed he was going to wear. Beside his clothes, sitting on his bed was his silver-haired best friend and rival, dressed in a well-fitted Italian cut suit.

Kai looked him up and down, “you should have been ready by now.”

Tyson’s cheeks blushed, “why are you alone in my room?”

Kai patted the dress shirt he left on his bed, “apparently Tyson Granger can’t dress himself- is this what you picked out?”

“Yeah? What’s wrong with it?”

Kai grinned, “Are you sure?”

Tyson made sure to show he was offended, “it’s the nicest thing I own…”

“I figured you’d say that.” Kai rose from the bed towards a hook on the door. He reached for a black garment bag that wasn’t there before.

Tyson wondered where it came from, and when- did Kai just bring it? For him?

He placed it on the bed, undoing the zipper on the fancy black bag, “change into this.”

“If it doesn’t look hot- I’m boycotting you.”

Kai chuckled, “how do you boycott a whole person?”

“It better look good on me, or you’ll find out.”

Kai stood still, Tyson mumbled, “can you- can you turn around so I can change?”

“Oh, right- Yeah.”

Kai walked towards the window and directed his attention outside, trying to ignore the fact Tyson was a towel away from being completely naked behind him.

He heard the rustling of clothes behind him, and Tyson’s voice, “is everyone ready downstairs?”

“They’ve already left in the limo Tyson.”

“Limo!? You mean I could be in a limo right now?!”

“You weren’t ready in time, so now you have to go with me, you’re lucky I stayed behind.”

“Not like you aren’t usually fashionably late Kai. You can turn around now.”

Kai flung his body around, hopefully, he didn’t seem too eager to see Tyson in a suit.

Tyson was awkwardly fiddling with his cuffs, he had no tie on, and his buttons weren’t done right.

Kai sighed, “Here.” He grabbed one of Tyson’s arms and started to straighten his cuffs, “Can you do your tie?”

Tyson felt his face flush in embarrassment. Kai fixing his clothes was, in his eyes, the opposite of manly.

“I uh,” Tyson didn’t want to admit it, “don’t know how to do it.” He said in a hushed voice.

“What was that?” Kai finished with his other arm and moved on to his buttons.

“I don’t know how to tie a tie okay!?” Tyson avoided eye contact.

Tyson had realized catching Kai's smile was becoming more common.

Kai gave him one of those grins now, “it’s okay, I’ll do it for you.”

“Can you teach me? I want to do it myself…”

“No time, I can show you later though.” Kai reached into the black bag and pulled out a dark blue tie, it was soft with elegant subtle swirls on it.

Tyson’s eyes widened in awe, he had never seen anything so fancy, and he was expected to wear it?!

“Where did you get this suit from?” Tyson asked as Kai adjusted his collar on his shirt.

“Mr. Dickenson asked me to get you some nice clothes. I picked it out, I thought it would look good on you.”

Tyson felt an electric shock as Kai reached around his neck placing the tie on either side of him.

“It was expensive.” Kai’s eyes met his, Tyson tried to keep his mouth closed, “don’t get food on it.” Kai threatened him.

“I won’t!” Tyson’s voice squeaked.

Kai worked on the tie while biting the insides of his cheeks, he had to refrain from touching Tyson’s chest, he compromised by running his knuckle along his pec while pulling the tie tighter.

The delicate touch was not missed by Tyson, who felt a burning sensation flow up his spine.

“There.” Kai stepped away when he was done with the tie.

Tyson turned to a full length mirror he had on another side of the room. His eyes glowed when he got a look at himself, “Woah! Kai!”

He did a twirl for the mirror, “Kai you made a good choice, this does look good on me!”

Kai placed a hand in his pocket, “I told you.”

It suddenly occurred to Tyson, he had never been in Kai’s car. He knew it was nice, He knew it was a supercharged sports car, but that was about it. Kai was particular who he let look at it, and now, he was letting Tyson sit passenger. Tyson stared at the white car in awe, he didn’t know much about cars, but it was obvious it was a big deal.

Kai opened the passenger door for him, “are you getting in or are you going to stand there all night?”

Tyson shook his head, “y-yeah! What kind of car did you say this was again?”

“I don’t think you’ve ever asked, it’s an Aston Martin Superleggera.”

“Sounds fancy,” Tyson remarked while climbing into it.

Kai leaned towards him before closing the door, “it is- put on your seatbelt.”

The first thing Tyson noticed, Kai didn’t drive like someone in their late teens, he drove like an old man.

“For someone who’s incredibly late- you sure aren’t going anywhere fast.”

Kai had one hand on the steering wheel, “you want me to go faster?” he blinked in surprise.

“Well, you have a turbo-charged sports car.” Tyson grinned, “send it.”

“I didn’t know you were into fast cars?” Kai remarked.

“Hell yeah, I am.”

“Hold on.”

Luckily there weren’t many cars on this road.

Was it illegal? Don’t tell anyone.

Did Tyson realize that Kai shared the same adrenaline habits he did? Absolutely.

They drove fast, Kai made turns expertly, Tyson laughed and cheered.

Slowing down his pace, Tyson could feel his heart racing, “that was awesome.”

Kai gifted him another one of his rare smiles, the kind that was becoming more frequent.

The party venue felt a little monotone, maybe it was in comparison to the adrenaline rush they just had.

“Holy!?- Tyson?” Max rushed over to him with a glass of juice in his hand, “there’s no way that’s you in that suit?”

“Sure is,” Tyson’s face screamed happiness.

Walking into the main hall, Tyson recognized everyone from his past tournaments, his old rivals, friends, everyone was excited to see him.

Tyson became swarmed with people greeting him, Kai excused himself, to hide away in the corner.

“What’s going on?” to his right side, Ray.

“Not much, you?”

Ray handed him a glass, probably juice, he took it.

“Just finished saying hi to everyone, are you going to make the rounds?” Ray knew it was a stupid question.

“I’ll talk to whoever talks to me first.” Kai took a small sip of the glass.

“Are you dancing tonight?” another stupid question from Ray.

Kai gave him an obvious expression, “you think I would?”

He didn’t say no; Ray took the opportunity to squeeze humanity out of Kai, “out of everyone here, who would you dance with?”

Kai surveyed the room, it caught Ray by surprise, he was actually thinking about it.

“Probably Tyson-” Kai needed to think of a good excuse fast- “because I’m more familiar with him than anyone else.” He took a sip of his juice.

“So then dance with him? You know everyone probably will by the end of the night.”

Kai chuckled with his mouth in his glass, it fogged up slightly, “no, that would be weird.”

“I’ll ask him first if that makes you more comfortable.”

Kai shrugged in response. Ray patted his shoulder, placing down his empty glass on a nearby table, and he made his way towards Tyson who was already dancing in the middle of the room.

Towards the other side of the room, Kai saw Mr. Dickenson in the corner of his eye, waving for him to come over to the group he was with. Kai rolled his eyes, he saw Hiro over there too.

Reluctantly, he made his way over, he wasn't going to ignore Mr. Dickenson.

The group had formed a circle, Miriah was there, Emily, Judy, and Michael.

Kai gave everyone a friendly greeting, then they started making casual conversation, then it got down to business. Kai waved his hand in the air, “I’m not here to talk about the Hiwatari company tonight.”

Hiro gave him an angry expression, but Mr. Dickeson understood, and so did Judy, they all kept making casual conversation.

“Hey, weird question guys.” Miriah held up a pink phone with a picture on it.

Emily pointed to the screen, “Do you guys know what kind of flowers these are?”

They piled around it, Max showed up behind them to check out the picture as well. Kai and Hiro saw the screen simultaneously, in unison they responded:

“Himalayan blue poppies.”

Hiro and Kai locked eyes immediately. Instantly ready to square up.

“How do you know that?” Hiro’s voice had a hint of anger.

“I’m not allowed to know a type of flower?” Kai spat back.

Miriah squeezed herself in between them, “Calm down! Tyson got sent some- we don’t know who sent them.”

“They’re my mom's favourite flower.”

Max watched the situation, he stared at Kai, “no way…” he said under his breath.

The blond-haired boy grasped Kai’s arm, pulling him out of the group, far away from the angry brother.

“Thanks, Max.” Kai was glad he managed to sneak him away without anyone noticing.

“No problem dude.” Max smiled.

Ray appeared beside them, with a worn-out Tyson by his side.

“Kai, your turn!” He shoved Tyson into Kai.

Tyson wasn’t expecting it, stabilizing himself by holding on to Kai’s shoulders, “Ray!”

“Sorry!”

Kai unconsciously helped Tyson keep his balance… by holding him by his waist.

Tyson pulled himself away, Kai’s hands glided along his waist.

“Apparently… You wanted to dance with me?” Tyson gave Kai an expression he couldn’t read.

“I didn’t want to- I mean- if you want to?” Kai’s face turned a shade pinker.

“Sure- I mean, if you want to?” Tyson swallowed, but his throat stayed dry.

“Just go!” Ray pushed them towards the dance floor.

Max yelled to Ray, “Ray! I have to tell you something…”

In the middle of the dance floor, the duo had no idea what to do.

“Um-” Tyson awkwardly placed his arms around Kai’s neck.

“Isn’t that the female way..” Kai remarked

“Shut up!” Tyson felt awkward for some reason, even though before this, he danced with a dozen boys- and girls.

Kai placed his hands on his hips, wondering how he ever ended up here.

“Here…” Kai grasped one of his hands, keeping one hand on his waist.

Tyson’s hand that wasn’t wrapped in Kais, was placed on his shoulder, he slowly let it slide towards his neck, playing with the loose strands of hair, focused on the way it shimmered in the lights.

“How do you know how to dance?”

“Rich boy.”

“Really?” Tyson laughed, imagining a young Kai learning ballroom dance.

“I can also play some piano.”

“Wow, what else can you do rich boy?” Tyson titled his head, unconsciously teasing him.

“Some violin, calligraphy in English, Ballroom dance, paperwork…”

“I’m surprised you’re telling me this.” Tyson admired his face up close, when did he get such a cute face?

Kai held Tyson closer, his face centimeters away from his, “if you tell, no one will believe you.”

Tyson let out a hard laugh. People in the room began to stare, but they didn’t notice, they were lost in their own little world.

Kai felt sweat form in between Tyson’s palm and his, but he didn’t care. He watched his blue hair sway, and his lips curve into smiles, he blinked suddenly, becoming aware of the way he was looking at him.

Kai let go of Tyson, taking a step away from him, “sorry- I’m going to get some air.”

Kai disappeared into another room, leaving Tyson flustered on the dance floor.

Outside Kai closed the metal door behind him, he held the railing of the balcony. “What am I doing?” he whispered to nobody.

“Sending him flowers, driving him around, dancing with him- Why can’t I just-”

He heard the door open and close behind him, “Are you alright Kai? You left so fast…”

Hearing Tyson’s voice was liquid ecstasy. He closed his eyes, absorbing it, before finding the courage to turn around.

“I’m fine.” He gave Tyson a grin, but Tyson saw through it.

“You’re all in your head,” Tyson remarked and stepped closer to him.

Kai had his back to the railing, he couldn’t run away anymore.

Tyson was too close, he looked in Kai’s eyes, deep into his mind, looking for any sign that something was off.

Tyson lifted his hand, and rested it on his cheek, “what’s going on with you?”

Kai felt his whole body melt, pure happiness, absolute comfort. At the next words, he felt like he could float away-

“You know you can tell me anything right?”

Kai felt his lungs stop working, no air, his brain fired electrical impulses at lightning speed but no thoughts were being created.

“Did you send the flowers?” Tyson kept his hand on Kai’s cheek.

“Y- yeah,” Kai admitted, still not breathing.

“How did you know about them?”

“You leave your mothers journals everywhere-”

“And you read them?!”

“No- Well, yes. But I wasn’t reading her writing, I was reading your notes on the sides.”

Tyson remembered a sticky note he put on a page, mentioning where he could get seeds for his mother's favourite flowers, that he so desperately wanted.

“Why?” Tyson’s voice was serious but so calming.

Kai closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them.

“I think I like you.”

Neither one of them dared to move.

Silence, for minutes, as Tyson’s hand stayed on Kai’s face, growing colder by the minute.

“I’m sorry- it was weird, I shouldn’t have said anything.” Kai tried to turn his face away from him, trying to brush off the encounter.

“No!” Tyson used his hand to push Kai back to his original position.

Kai’s face grew red, Tyson’s did too.

“I! I think that-” Tyson blubbered trying to find the right words, Kai gripped the railing behind him.

“Ah- screw it-” Tyson’s eyes were damp, he stared at the sky before taking a deep breath.

“Ty!-”

Tyson’s lips were pressed against his. He didn’t know what to do- he had wished for it for so long- and now, all of the sudden?

“Mm!” Tyson made some noise as he kept doing it, messy, but fun.

Kai used his hands to run through Tyson’s hair from the back of his neck, grabbing the back of his head and a handful of hair, pulling him closer.

Their bodies were against each other, they could feel each other’s hearts trying to leap out of their chests.

Kai tried to pull away, to get some air- Tyson grabbed his tie and pulled him back into him, making out with him more.

Finally, Tyson let Kai go, he was still chocolate he was told not to have, and he wanted more.

“What- I, Tyson?” Kai stumbled over his words.

“It’s alright Kai.” Tyson gave him a quick kiss on his soft lips, “it’s okay.”

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jojoboisimagines · 4 years

Text

Johnny Joestar x Reader :: Wait for It :: Chapter 4

Previous chapter Next chapter

Summary: Gyro is hospitalized, and now Johnny has no one to turn to. That is, until a former female rider shows him a little compassion.

A/N: A considerably more fluffy chapter this time around, mostly because I realized it was getting a little too long lol

.::.

A blue painted fingernail clicked the stopwatch as your horse came to a slow, sloppy halt.

“Stop.”

Your head was spinning in a daze and you tried to regain your composure to get off your horse. Wobbling a bit as you stumbled towards the ex-jockey, he felt as if you were trying to give him a reason to shake his head. His hand ushered towards your torso to attempt keeping you steady, but Johnny couldn’t do much from his chair.

“You were too late on that one, not to mention that stop was pretty rough. Once you get a better handle of things in general, you should improve. But you can’t be lookin’ so unsure like that.”

“Huh?” Was all you could murmur as you held an icepack to your forehead to soothe the momentary nausea. After taking a couple notes in his notepad, he sets it onto a wooden stump beside him before turning to you. You were prepared for an intense critique, just like the last three times you had taken a lap. The two of you had found a circular clearing near the hotel from last night, complete with a marble, expensive looking fountain in the middle. It was perfect, just wide enough for you to practice horse riding with. As long as no one angrily marched out of their store complaining about the ruckus, anyway.

You were used to waking up early, so the time didn’t bother you. On the contrary, it was Johnny that surprised you at his sluggish manner of waking up. To be fair, the poor guy probably hadn’t had the chance to sleep in for weeks on end. He languidly sat on the edge of his bed for about 13 minutes while you were already getting ready.

Attempting conversation with him, you discovered that the Italian man he was traveling with had somehow taken a gravely dangerous hit and was currently hospitalized. You were sure he was a goner, despite the slight hope the ex-jockey seemed to have that he was alright for now. That was the most light you had seen in his eyes since you first laid eyes on him in this race. Maybe it was that guy that was the reason Johnny was in the lead so often. Not like it mattered, anyway. The method of how he got there means nothing to you, its how you yourself can catch up is what has you interested. Though you knew him staying behind for his partner would set him back in the race a few days.

You blinked, trying to process what he had told you to improve on. It racked your brain as your turned your back to him and contemplated how exactly you would translate what’s planted in your mind to your actions when riding your steed. It was so frustrating, you knew what you wanted to do, and yet it seemed like your body betrayed you when attempting to do so. It definitely wasn’t your horse, she was in perfect shape, it was you.

“(Y/N), watch out!”

It all happened so suddenly, you heard gunshots and strange men on both sides of you had collapsed to the ground, seemingly writhing in agony. You turned around to your trainer, who was now breathing heavily with his fingers pointed out in a gun-like shape. Confused, you had ran back over to him, face expressing concern for both of your well being.

“Johnny! What happened?”

“Those guys just tried to mug you when you were goin’ back to your horse. I got ‘em though.” His hands returned to the handles of his wheelchair, letting out a sigh of relief.

He got them? The hell did that mean? You knew he had a gun, but hadn’t seen him bring it outside. Before you could think any further about it, he grabbed your wrist.

“Let’s get our horses and get out of here (y/n). We don’t want to be the ones seen when the police arrive.” As much as you wanted to object in order to continue your training, he was right. If either of you got accused and thrown in jail, that’d be a bad situation. You nodded, and Johnny rolled over to Slow Dancer while you went and mounted your own horse.

.::.

You had no idea where Johnny was leading you. All you had seen for the past 20 minutes were the pale green hue of the forest the two of you had escaped into. At first you had assumed he was moving forward for the sake of the race, but quickly realized this was the exact opposite direction the next stage was in based on your map.

“What’s your horse’s name?” He broke the silence.

You hesitated for a second. Why would he want to know that?

“..Aphrodite.”

“Nice name. She’s a beauty.”

“Your horse’s name is Slow Dancer, right? That’s really pretty too.” Since compliments were being thrown around, it wouldn’t hurt to actually talk to him for once without the malice you've harbored for him being in the way.

“Oh, I didn’t name her. Thanks though.” A blunt response, yet not quite matter-of-factly.

You didn’t quite know how to respond, but you didn’t need to, as the man moved a pair of branches heavily decorated with leaves out of the way to get a better view of an area that finally contrasted the scene you had been seeing for the last half hour. It was another assemblage of stores and bars right next to each other. Thank god you already had all of your belongings on the back of your horse before the two of you left, otherwise you would have a new reason to be pissed off at him.

“We’ll still have to go back to the other part of the town because my friend is in that hospital, but for now let's take a break and have some lunch.” It was a bit shocking and almost struck you as foolish that he offered to take you to another restaurant after yesterday’s stunt.

“Don’t worry about paying for it, I’ve got you covered.” Well, that solves that.

The two of you get properly seated in the restaurant, with Johnny insisting no one help him with his wheelchair, almost stubbornly so. The walls were coated in patterned red wallpaper, with much better decorations and even utensils than the last one. Perhaps you should’ve made your heist here instead, but there was the chance that they’d have better security. Not to mention, what were the odds you’d find Johnny Joestar of all people in a burger joint? Though that did bring up the question of why he wanted to come specifically here instead of finding a place closer to the hotel.

“You decided burgers weren’t really your thing this time around?” You remark, holding the menu closer to your eyes. The words on this menu were unnecessarily small.

“Nah they are, I just wanted to come to this place again. I had been here before back when I was a jockey and traveled more.”

“Ah..” You bit your lip. It must’ve been a sore subject to talk about for him, so you wouldn’t pester him about it any further. “Why are you treating me to lunch?”

No immediate response from him, it almost looked like he was ignoring you in favor of deciding what he wanted on the menu. You placed your elbow on the table with your hand pushing against your cheek, your lip jutting out not dissimilar to a sad puppy who was getting enough attention.

“No reason,” He said, not even looking up from the menu. “If you try the same thing as the other day though, I’ll be the one to shoot your ass this time.” Squinting your eyes, you could see a hint of a smirk on his face. Before you could utter ‘try me’, the waitress came to your table to take your orders. It was a quick exchange, and she took your menus and left as soon as she came. Johnny’s eyes were still planted on her as she disappeared into the kitchen.

“You some kind of creep?” You accused, almost bringing up your memories of seeing the jockey with about a dozen girls on him in his former days, but bit your tongue.

He shook his head. “‘Course not. But I was thinking of how you’d look in that waitress outfit instead.”

Your face threatened to redden against your will. Blinking, it took you a moment to process that.

Was..was he flirting?

“What..would make you think about that?” You spat more than intended. “You’re saying that like you literally didn’t put on someone else’s uniform on little than 24 hours ago.”

He had a point. Your fists still balled up on the table.

“Yeah, I can see it.” He continued. “You’d look like a doll.”

You squint your eyes tight, unable to take his compliments without getting flustered. It was frankly embarrassing just how much of a physical reaction you had to it. And he was just..staring at you. No visible change in his expression. Then again, you could barely see it considering your eyes were shut.

He pointed a finger at you. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not coming onto you or anything. I just call it as I see it.”

You couldn’t even tell if that was meant to be reassuring or not. When you looked up at him, he still kept that nonchalant face, not seeming to get any particular joy or satisfaction from seeing you like this. Tapping his finger on the table, he stared into the air for a second.

“I shouldn’t have let her take my menu, I wanted to know what dessert they have..”

Your jaw nearly dropped. How could he carelessly say something like that and then change the subject?

This man would kill you sooner or later without even having to shoot..

#blub with the double upload lmao #jojo imagines #jojo headcanons #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #JoJo's Bizarre Adventure #steel ball run #jjba x reader #jjba imagine #johnny joestar imagine #johnny joestar x reader #johnny joestar

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wedreamerz · 4 years

Text

Roll You In Sugar

Follow Up to Buttons

Written for @mcukinkbingo

Square Filled: SugarBaby/Daddy

Pairing: Tony/Peter. (Peter is 18+)

Rating: E

Warnings: None

Tags: Daddy/Sugar Baby, Daddy Kink, Praise Kink, Smut, Fluff

“Good night, Daddies,” I blew a sleepy kiss to my guests before turning off the camera. It was a good show. The guests had been encouraging, their comments just enough to tip me other the edge. But I was disappointed when youknowwhoIam was mostly silent through the show. He’d thanked me at the end but other than that, he’d been quiet.

I fell back onto my bed, surrounded by discarded clothes and dildos, hoping he hadn’t been disappointed with my performance. A little chime sounded on my laptop, indicating a notification had come through. I stretched a groaned, not wanting to move, but curious, a little hopeful.

<youknowwhoIam> private: You’re stunning, Sweetheart. Where are you? Let me take you to dinner? Let me spoil you like you deserve.

~~~~~~~~~~

He wore a mask, black lace that obscured his features but did nothing to hide his beauty. I was hard, leaking and throbbing with need but I didn’t touch myself. This performance wasn’t for me, despite his cheeky Iron Man underoos.

The others talked to him, shouted commands. I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I wanted to whisper in his ear. I wanted to hear him moan when I touch him, open his tight little ass on my fingers. He deserved flesh, flowers, kisses, and silk - not those cheap nylon stockings that clung to his firm, pale thighs. I wanted to put him in the finest. And I wanted him all to myself.

Chest flushed, cock so hard in his fist, he came so pretty. I watched, breathless and aching when he let go, little nose scrunched, mouth open and ready for me to fill it.

God… did I want to fill it.

~~~~~~~~~

My heart raced. He wanted to meet me...like... actually meet me. I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t meet a complete stranger I’d barely spoken to.

Could I?

<Underoos> private: How do I know you’re not a serial killer?

<youknowwhoIam> private: I’m not.

<Underoos> private: But how do I know?

<youknowwhoIam> private: I’ll prove it. Turn on your camera.

<Underoos> private: Why?

<youknowwhoIam> private Trust me, Sweetheart. All I wanna do is show you something.

I bit my lip, butterflies at war in my stomach. I was still naked and for a moment I considered staying that way. He’d already seen me come. But outside of the show, it felt strange, a little too exposed. So, I pulled on my Iron Man hoodie and zipped it up before turning on the camera.

The window popped up as usual. And I saw that youknowwhoIam was the only one in the chat. In the next moment, my screen flickered, and another window popped up, a black screen that scrolled with code for just a second before it lit up, revealing someone’s chest.

The software didn’t work this way. I couldn’t see any of the guests, only chat with them.

“What the…” I whispered.

A large hand covered the camera lens, distorting the screen for just a moment before it pulled away and…

My stomach dropped down to my knees.

“T-Tony Stark?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The boy had a point. I could be anyone. But I wasn’t. And the fastest way through that argument was revealing my identity. I had no qualms about it. I wanted him to know me, know who I was and what I wanted.

Friday hacked the system and with a quick adjustment to the camera, I got to watch that beautiful face light up with excitement and awe.

“T-Tony Stark?” he said, eyes wide.

“See, I told you, not a serial killer,” I said with a smirk, leaning back against the headboard.

“H- how did you…right...you’re Tony Stark. Of course, you hacked my computer.”

“Not yours. Your company’s. Just a little piggybacking off of their cam feature.”

He smiled at that, genuine and so fucking sweet. He shook his head and shrugged. “Why?”

“Because I want you to take me seriously. I want to take you to dinner."

He looked into the camera, bit his lip. "But why me?" he asked with a frown. "I'm just a broke college student trying to make a little money camming."

"Let's just say I don't like to share. I want you all to myself. Just dinner. No obligations. No strings. I'll fly wherever you are. And if you never want to see me again, so be it."

"I… I'm…"

He was looking for an excuse to say no. But he wanted to say yes; I could see it in his eyes.

"Come on, Sweetheart… what do you have to lose?" I said softly, careful not to swing his pendulum in the opposite direction. "Tell you what, let's just start at the beginning. What's your name?"

He glanced to the side at something off-camera - a door maybe? Was he alone? Did he have a boyfriend? I didn't care. He drew a breath and seemed to come to some kind of decision.

"Peter. Peter Parker."

~~~~~~~~~~

He sent a limo. A long, black stretch limo. A week after Tony fucking Stark hijacked my webcam, it pulled up in front of my apartment, standing out like the sorest of thumbs.

I had been waiting on the stoop, hoping May wouldn't notice. I hurried forward as a tall, kind of cranky looking man got out of the driver's seat and met me on the sidewalk.

"Peter Parker?" he asked, eyeing the row of apartments with only a touch of distrust.

"Um, yes." I gulped and shoved my hands in the pockets of my only good dress pants.

"Great. The Boss asked me to tell you he's sorry he couldn't be here to pick you up. He'll meet you at the restaurant. My name is Mr. Hogan. I'll be your driver tonight."

He opened the door for me, and I stepped back, second- no, fourth guessing this decision. What was I doing? I had no business meeting a client.

But it's Tony Stark, that thirsty voice in the back of my mind piped up. The one that had been there when I'd jerked off to the countless posters, magazines and leaked bootleg, cellphone porn videos. He was my celebrity crush, my goal. I wanted to be like him: genius, superhero, philanthropist. He made a difference.

But it's Tony Stark, that other voice spoke up, the one who never failed to notice the articles about the people he'd been spotted with.

"Come on, kid. Boss isn't gonna wait forever," Mr. Hogan said, nodding at the open car door.

"Right, uh, sorry," I said as I climbed in.

It was quiet inside, warm and cozy in contrast to the February chill. The only coat I owned looked horrible with the grey dress pants and a blue dress shirt I'd chosen. So, I'd ditched the coat and topped the outfit with the soft grey sweater May had gotten me last Christmas.

I didn't know where we were going or even if what I was wearing was appropriate. I mean, Mr. Stark was used to the best, the finest. I looked down at my pants, already wrinkled, and frowned.

This was a huge mistake.

~~~~~~~~~~

I'd done my research.

Peter Parker had graduated high school early and was at the top of his class, in his third year at Empire State University where he majored in Biophysics and minored in journalism. He was a photographer and had had several of his photos featured in The Daily Bugle just this year alone.

I couldn't help but be impressed. Not only was Peter the most beautiful creature on the planet, he was a fucking genius. But what made my boy truly fascinating was what he got up to in his spare time. And I'm not talking about camming. Imagine my surprise when I learned that my boy had a secret identity that had nothing to do with Underoos.

When the limo pulled up to the restaurant, I smiled and sauntered out from under the awning. I waved Happy away and he waved back in acknowledgment as I opened Peter's door.

He looked up at me, all wide-eyed and fresh-faced, like a fucking princess ready for the ball. His cheeks were flushed, lips bitten pink.

“Mr. Parker?" I said and extended my hand.

"Mr. Stark."

He smiled; a tiny thing that grew until his eyes lit with pleasure. His hand in mine wasn't something I was prepared for, the warmth, the want of never letting it go. Neither was his cheeky grin.

He looked up at the restaurant I'd chosen and chuckled. "Not quite what I was expecting," he said.

I eyed the little brick building and nodded. "It's my favorite Italian joint in Queens. They have the best -"

"Chicken parm, I know," he said. "We order from here all the time."

"Good. Unless you'd rather go somewhere else? Uptown? I have a jet; I could take you for real Italian food."

"Oh, no no no… I'm not complaining. I love this place. I just assumed…"

"That I'd take you to some big fancy Manhattan hot spot?"

Peter nodded and looked down at his shoes.

"Would you have been comfortable there?" I asked, gently turning him, tipping his chin so that he met my gaze. "Meeting me for the first time in the middle of that chaos?"

"No," Peter admitted.

"That's why I chose here," I said, not admitting to hacking his google account, looking through his Yelp reviews. "I wanted you to feel comfortable."

"Thank you. I... I was a little intimidated. I mean…"

"I know, Sweetheart. But you shouldn't be. You're young, sure. But I did my homework. You're brilliant. Come on. They're holding a table for us in the back."

~~~~~~~

Hand on the small of my back, he guided me inside. I melted, literally leaned into his warmth. I'd known he was beautiful and witty. But to have the full force of Tony Stark's undivided attention, to be swimming in that warm espresso gaze - it was more intoxicating than any amount of attention I could ever receive from the men in the chat.

I'd expected wooing, amusing anecdotes from his trip to Japan or the last Avenger's mission. But he continued to surprise me.

"So, tell me about your classes," he said after we had ordered.

"Oh, um… I'm studying Biophysics. But you probably already know that," I said.

"I know what you're studying and that you're top of your class. But I'd like to know what your plans are. What do you plan to do with your degrees?"

"I'm not really sure yet. I guess, whatever I do, I just want to make a difference," I said. "I want to do something to help people."

He listened. He didn't once look at his phone. He didn't interrupt me and seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. Which was more than I could say for most guys my age. But then guys my age never did interest me.

Dinner flew by so fast. When the waiter brought the check to the table, I focused on the slice of chocolate cheesecake we were sharing. I'd reluctantly agreed to dinner and now that it was over, I couldn't help but want more.

~~~~~~~~~~

The limo was waiting, a toasty warm refuge in the flurry of flakes falling from the sky. He'd agreed to dinner and fulfilled his promise, but I didn't want him to go.

Peter shivered and I frowned, noticing that he wasn't wearing a coat. I stepped closer and smiled.

"Thank you for coming to dinner," I said softly and stroked his cheek, not missing the way he leaned into my touch.

I wanted to push him into the limo, pull him to my arms - into my bed. I wanted so much more from Peter Parker than a one-night stand. I wasn't a jealous man. Morally, I had no issue with the way Peter made money. But the thought of the men in the chatroom watching Peter in his most intimate moments made me want to break things and I knew I'd never be able to handle it.

I wanted Peter all to myself.

"I had a good time," he said with a smile so sweet it made my teeth ache.

"Don't you have a coat?" I asked and he looked down, cheeks pink from more than the cold.

"It didn't look good with my outfit," he mumbled. I pushed down the possessive urge to wrap my arms around him and instead took my coat off and set it over his shoulders. It was too big, but he snuggled into the warmth with a grin.

"But now you're cold," he said.

I tipped up his chin. He didn't resist.

"Then come keep me warm," I said. "Come home with me, Peter." I held my breath, expecting an argument or excuses.

But Peter didn't pull away. He smiled and stepped closer.

"I'd like that."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Come here, Sweetheart," Tony purred and patted his knee. I'd never wanted to be anywhere more and moved into his lap without hesitation.

He ran his hands up my thighs and chest, then cupped my face.

"You're so beautiful," he said. "And smart. Peter, I'm so amazed by your mind and impressed with your tenacity and kindness. You should be proud of everything you've accomplished."

I loved the way he made me feel, all melty and out of my head. On camera, I was in control. In my day-to-day, I had to be very aware of my schedule, budget, and time management. But in Tony's arms, for the first time in I couldn't remember how long, I felt like I could let go.

Tony Stark thinks I'm amazing. I couldn't help but wonder what he would think if he knew that I had yet another secret identity. That I was the vigilante crime fighter for the people The Bugle had been going on about recently.

He rubbed his thumb over my lips, gently pressed between them when I opened for him.

"So fucking pretty," he breathed. "Can I kiss you, Sweetheart?"

I nodded, expecting him to swoop in for the kill. Instead, he slowly moved his hands down my back, cupped my ass and yanked me closer. He was hot, already hard, and smelled like a fucking dream.

I closed my eyes and moaned when he bent, not to my lips, but my neck. He nibbled up the length, pausing to bite and suck at my earlobe before tracing my jaw with his tongue. I tipped my head back and revelled in the attention. He took his time. nibbling and sucking his way to my lips. When he finally got there, finally took my mouth, I was ready to give him everything.

Demanding, luscious, his kiss was all-consuming. I let him take control, bent to his will until I was panting and rolling my hips, desperate for friction. He pulled back with a pop and then sucked my bottom lip between his teeth, biting just hard enough to make me moan. He pressed soft kisses to my lips and then across my face.

I whined when he grasped my hips, slowing my movements.

"Slow down, little Spider," he whispered. "I want to see you come apart in my bed."

It took a moment for his words to sink in, moving through the chemical cocktail in which my brain was swimming.

I gasped. Eyes wide, I met his gaze, suddenly shaking.

"Shhh, it's okay. Yes, I know your secret. But it just makes me want you more." He stroked my back, soothed my fears. "You're so amazing, Peter Parker. Let me show you how much. Let me spoil you. Let me ease your way."

~~~~~~~~~~

Peter tensed as the reality of my words sunk in. Yes, I knew he was Spiderman. Friday had found out while doing a facial recognition on the boy. A security camera had caught a few seconds of his face as he dipped down an alley to change. When Spiderman emerged a few moments later I put it all together.

"You're so amazing, Peter Parker. Let me show you how much. Let me spoil you. Let me ease your way."

"M-Mr. Stark...I--"

I had to be cautious. Peter was proud. And he should be. I didn't want him to think I was trying to take anything away from what he'd done on his own.

"I want you, Peter," I said softly, stroking through his curls. "Forgive me for prying -- it's what I do. But everything about you is a fucking wonder. Everything I learn just makes me want you more. But Sweetheart, I don't think I can share you."

Peter frowned, pouting just a little bit. My stomach clenched.

"What do you mean?"

"Watching you online...Jesus, you're fucking beautiful. Those men don't deserve you. Peter, I... when I say I want you -- I want you all to myself. I can't… I don't think I can handle sharing you like that."

Peter looked me in the eye and shook his head. "But I... that's how I support myself."

"Let me."

Peter shook his head and frowned. "Let you what?"

"Let me support you. Let me give you everything you need. Everything you deserve-"

"Mr. Stark, I'm not...I can't… I'm not gonna be some Sugar Baby. I work hard for-"

"Peter, just listen to my proposal, okay? Just listen to me. And if you never want to see me again, I'll have Happy drop you off at home."

"Happy?"

"The bearded man in the driver's seat."

Peter huffed a laugh. "Ironic. I like it. Okay, go ahead," he said after a moment's consideration. I thought it was a good sign that he didn't pull away or move from my lap.

"You're brilliant, Peter. And investing in your future would not just benefit you. I have to look out for me, too. And to that end, I need bright young minds like you in my camp. I want to offer you a full ride to your current or dream school of your choice. You study, spend your time being brilliant, graduate and then come work for me. I'd be an idiot not to snap you up before my competition gets wind of your accomplishments."

"But I still need to live. And Mr. Stark, you just met me. How can you even be sure that you'll want to continue seeing me?"

"You're right. I know, shit happens. There are no guarantees that you'll want to continue seeing me either. I mean, I snore sometimes and I can't fucking cook to save my life."

Peter giggled at my joke and I smiled. I wanted to pull him into my arms, but I knew I had more work to do if I was going to seal this deal.

"That's what contracts are for, Sweetheart. We negotiate, each party gets what they need, and we both go home happy. Or even better, we go to bed happy."

Peter bit his lip and looked at where my hands rested on his thighs.

"All this because you don't like to share?" he said softly.

"All this because I see so much potential in you. I want to encourage you; I want you to see that you deserve more than what you're settling for right now. You've done an amazing job. I am only offering to make it easier for you to achieve your goals."

Peter smiled and finally met my gaze. "And the fact that you wouldn't have to share me with the men in the chat room?"

"Consider it a bonus," I shrugged. “Besides, you’re fucking Spiderman. Imagine the things we could do together.”

Peter laughed and kissed me, soft and sweet and so fucking delicious. Then he scrambled out my lap and crawled over to the minibar. He grabbed a handful full of napkins and then climbed back into my lap.

"Do you have a pen?" he asked.

As we made our way out of Queens and headed toward the tower, Peter and I engaged in the fine art of negotiation.

~~~~~~~~~~

We left a trail of scribbled up napkins and clothes from the door to Tony's bed. Specifically, my clothes. He'd stripped me bare while he remained fully clothed in the most beautiful suit I'd ever seen - charcoal with a pale silver shirt and lavender striped tie.

Tony pushed me gently onto the bed and stood up with a playful smirk.

"Be a good boy," he said. "And watch."

I bit my lip as he slowly removed his jacket, breathless with anticipation.

"Per Article 2, Subsection 1 of our agreement, I'm now basically your Sugar Daddy. And I get to roll you sugar as often as I desire."

"I don't think that's how it's worded."

"Hmmm, but that's the spirit of the agreement."

Tony winked and moved over to his dresser. "In fact. I'd like to start right now."

I sat up, my feet barely touched the plush carpet as I perched on the edge of his bed, curious.

"I loved your outfit the other night," he said. "But my Baby gets only the best."

He handed me a flat, black box with a silver ribbon around the middle. I slid off he ribbon and squirmed with excitement. He'd bought me something before we'd even come to an agreement. I wasn't used to relying on someone else to buy me things. Sure, the Daddies on the chatroom bought me sex toys and underwear off my wish list. But none of those gifts had ever been given with such an expensive brand name on the box. It thrilled and terrified me at the same time.

My cheeks warmed; the flush spread down my neck as I opened the box to find a pair of real silk stockings. They were black with a row of tiny, silver spiders around the thigh.

"Daddy," I breathed, stroking the fabric. My body responded as I imagined how they would feel against my skin. I'd never owned a thing so fine and delicate.

"May I put them on you?" he asked.

"But… I don't want to rip them," I answered, looking up to Tony's eyes.

He smirked and cupped my cheek. "Baby, if you rip them, I'll buy you another pair."

I bit back a gasp. Tony chuckled as he devoured me with his eyes, watched as I hardened from just his words.

”Lie back," he said.

I did as he asked, heart beating wildly in my chest.

He took my foot in his warm hands, massaged strong fingers into the arch. When I moaned with pleasure and closed my eyes, he murmured, "That's it, Baby, relax. Let me spoil you."

Tony pulled one stocking from the box and scrunched it around my toes. He pulled it up, smoothed it up my thigh, and tugged the band into place.

"Exquisite," he said, stroking up and down my calves.

I peeked through lowered lids to watch him to the same with the other stocking and then press kisses up each of my legs. I loved the warmth of his breath through the silk.

"Perfect. See the way they fit you? Like a second skin," Tony said, rubbing his lips just above the band. "I only want the finest to touch your skin, Peter. And tomorrow, after class, we're going shopping."

I opened my mouth to argue but he pressed a finger to my lips. "Indulge me, Sweetheart."

My cock throbbed. The way he said even the most innocent of things made me wild, made me want to climb into his lap and please him.

"Okay, Daddy," I said, preening when he beamed at me.

"Good boy," he purred.

~~~~~~~~~~

I wasn't prepared for the way those words made me feel.

"Okay, Daddy."

Peter had said them on the video, talking to the men. And yeah it had been hot. But this time… this time those words were all for me and it was as if he'd given me the keys to Disneyland.

"Come here, Baby," I said, pulling him to his feet. "Show Daddy how you look."

Peter did a little turn, his cheeks on fire.

"You look so fucking pretty, Baby. You wanna show Daddy how much you like his gift?"

I was worried for a moment that I had taken it too far, that he'd be offended. But he whined and nodded before falling to his knees.

"That's it, Baby," I crooned, running my fingers through his hair as he undid my belt and pants.

"Daddy," he whispered, almost to himself, when he pulled my cock free. I smiled. He was so fucking adorable.

He wrapped his hand around my shaft and leaned forward to rub his lips over the tip.

"You're so big," he said, breath warm against my skin.

"You like it, Baby?" I asked.

He pressed a kiss to my frenulum and looked up at me with the most mischievous expression before parting his lips and taking me between them. He took me slowly down his throat and for a moment I couldn't breathe.

Peter closed his eyes and shuddered, pulled back with a little gasp. He smiled and looked up into my eyes.

"Fucking amazing," I whispered. He squirmed and smiled at the praise, nibbling little kisses up my shaft and around the head. He licked around the tip, little pink tongue flicking and teasing until I thought I might come like that.

"Fuck, Baby. Come here, I'm gonna come if you keep that up and I don't wanna come in your mouth this time."

He whined and pulled off my dick with a salacious pop. I wiped his chin and patted his cheek before pulling him to his feet.

I removed the rest of my clothes and sat down on the bed, scooting back to lean against the headboard. Peter scrambled into my lap as soon as I held out my hand.

"Condoms?" he asked, and I smiled.

"Good boy," I said and rummaged in my bedside table for the box and tube of lube. I handed them to Peter, and he smirked as he set them aside within reach.

"Fancy," he commented, eyeing the brand names.

I shrugged and gathered him to my chest, trailed a finger down his spine. "I told you, Baby. Only the finest touches your skin," I whispered and continued down between his pert little cheeks. "And that includes this sweet little pucker here."

Peter moaned, pushed back on my finger.

"Open me up, Tony," he murmured into my chest and stroked the sensitive skin around where the arc reactor had been.

He had to know what he was doing, had to realize what he traced. But he said nothing, only kissed the spot reverently and pushed back against my fingers again.

"Okay, Baby," I said and grabbed the lube.

Peter made the most delicious noises. As I fingered him open, he whined and moaned, rocked his hips in a languid dance that left me breathless. Our cocks brushed together with just enough friction to excite and tantalize but not tip us over the edge.

"M'ready, Daddy, please," Peter whispered, scooted back and reached for the box of condoms.

Watching Peter concentrate might be the cutest thing in the world - especially when he was concentrating on rolling a condom down my shaft. He took his time, little pink tongue between his teeth as he drizzled lube down my length.

Satisfied, he looked into my eyes and said, "How do you want me, Daddy?"

I pulled him closer, ran my hands over the swell of his ass, and squeezed. "Just like this, Baby. Ride my cock."

Peter wrapped his arms around my neck and rose up on his knees. He took me slowly, eyes never leaving mine. I moaned as he quivered around me, desperate to thrust, take his tight little hole. But I reined in my control and let him lead.

"Oh my God, you feel amazing," he breathed into my neck.

"So do you, Baby. Now please, for the love of all that is holy - move."

~~~~~~~~~~

Filled and enveloped, I lost track of where I ended, and he began. Never had I been so consumed. The scent of his skin, the taste of his kiss - I took all of him into me in return.

"Daddy," I breathed.

"Don't chase it, Baby. Let it come to you."

He bit my lip and thrust up into me. I met him on the upstroke, sparks burst behind my eyes.

He caressed my silk-clad skin, hands skimming over my thighs, moving up to grip my hips.

"You look so fucking pretty in those stockings, Peter," Tony growled. "I love the thought of you in pretty things, perfect, beautiful things. Things that I buy just for you."

"Daddy," I cried out. "Please." I needed...I needed everything, wanted all of him. He reached between us and grasped my cock, gave it a squeeze that made the sparks return.

"So hard for Daddy. So ready to cum all over his new stockings."

"Yes."

"Yeah?"

"Daddy!"

"Come for me," he whispered, lips on my ear, hand around my cock. With a few firm strokes, I was there. He pulled me down to take all of him as he grunted his release.

I looked down to find my cum on my belly and thighs, thick white streams soaking into the fabric, into the pale skin that showed through a few tears. I shuddered and squirmed as Tony pulled another stream from my body before I collapsed against him, warm in the cocoon of his arms.

He pressed kisses to my temple and stroked my back as we caught our breath. Still hard, Tony moved just a little, slowing sliding deeper inside.

Into the silence that followed, I whispered, "I ripped my stockings, Daddy."

Tony chuckled. "It's okay, Baby. Daddy will get you a truckload of stockings. A pair for every single day."

I snuggled into his chest, rubbed my face into the soft hair, tracing the ridge of scar tissue with my tongue. I was unprepared for how utterly cared for he made me feel.

"And I'll wear them only for you," I said, meaning it. Why...how could I ever want anyone else?

Tony released a breath he seemed to have been holding. I smiled, charmed by his little insecurities.

"Just you," I said again.

He kissed my forehead and rested his cheek against my head.

"Just for you," he repeated my words. I knew them for what they were.

I giggled, sleepy now, light as a feather. "You gotta. You signed a contract."

Tony huffed a laugh. "Baby, I don't need a contract to hold me to that promise," I heard him say as I fell asleep in his arms.

#starker #tony x peter #peter x tony #mcu fanfiction

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baekhyuq · 5 years

Text

“I love Lucy.” Baekhyun (m) | Lucifer!bbh

Genre: SMUT

Word count: 3.7k

Mini playlist:Lottery-Kali Uchis/Ice Queen-BBH

Summary: Your boss just so happens to be the devil and is also trying to take you out on a dinner date.

The day started with Mr.Byun asking for his morning report. You gave it to him and then some. His eyes trained on your swaying hips as you exited his office. Nothing new, you were well aware of him wanting to take you out.

The office was always a busy place, especially when Baekhyun was rushing around the place hovering over peoples shoulders, or sitting on their desks. The invasion of personal space earning him some dirty words from some of your coworkers.

But when he stopped at your desk, you smiled. His tie was loose around his neck, his jacket blazer missing. He looked handsome—devilish, ironically so. He was the devil and all.

To have the devil want to take you out make your heart flutter. You wouldn’t show it and give in to his charm so quickly, you wanted to play cat and mouse for a laugh.

“Miss Y/n.” Baekhyun addresses you by your first name, you two were close enough for first names but it still bothered you.

“Lucy.” You tease, using the nickname for Lucifer you made up. His smile falters slightly and he gives you a stern look for a second. You laugh it off, covering your lips femininely.

“How’s your morning going?” He begins the conversation, he sets a coffee on your desk you’re assuming is for you. You pick it up and sip it carefully.

“Pretty okay, I need to send these papers to a few more companies and I’ll be finished with your third assignment.”

“You’re always ahead of the game, those assignments weren’t due till next weekend.” Baekhyun smiles, praising you. You bask in his praise, you loved being his favorite, even if you acted otherwise.

“I try.” You offer him a smile. He clears his throat before continuing the conversation. He should be popping the question any minute—

“So Y/n, are you free this Friday?” The question flies smoothly from his lips. As if he’s rehearsed this line a thousand times. You wouldn’t be shocked to find out if he did.

He looks so hopeful that you’ll say yes, he’s basically grabbing on to your desk ready to flip it if you reject him.

Smiling at him you’re ready to play “Hm? What did you say?”

He raised a brow at you. “I asked if you were free for this Friday.” He repeats this time less excited.

“Oh, this Friday? I don’t know, I was thinking of staying in and watching T.V after work.” You act as if you’re pondering about your ‘schedule’ your hand under your chin looking off into the distance.

Baekhyun looks a little sad and he jumps to convince you “Aw come on, I’m sure having dinner with your favorite person would be better than being alone on a Friday night.”

You want to laugh at how cute he’s being, but you keep it together.

“Perhaps...I’ll think about it, Lucy.” You click your pen at him.

Baekhyun nods taking his hands from your desk, “I see. Let me know when you decide.” He smiles. Ah Baekhyun, sweet Baekhyun.

***

Wednesday comes and you’re getting a little grocery shopping done after work. You someone run into Baekhyun.

“Nice seeing you out side of work, Y/n.” He says your first name so casually and it makes your knees wobble slightly.

“You as well, Baekhyun.” You glance at what’s in his basket and he does the same to you.

“What are you making?” You simultaneously ask each other.

“I’m making chilli. What about you” You grin, switching your weight to one foot.

“Really? I haven’t had chilli in ages. I’m actually making a basic vegetable soup. I didn’t have all the ingredients, hence why i’m here now.” Baekhyun rambles. In a way it’s cute, the somewhat awkwardness of meeting him outside of work still present.

“Well, I hope your soup turns out well, Lucy. Have a nice night.” You try to escape the awkward encounter but Baekhyun stops you before you could take another step.

“Y/n I—have you thought about Friday?” His voice was quiet. You grin a little, a nervous Baekhyun was absolutely adorable.

You turn back to face him, your eyes kind. “Yeah I’ve been thinking about it.” You lied, the answer from the start was yes. “I’m free Friday.”

Baekhyun’s eyes light up, he lets out an excited giggle. You find it cute and endearing.

“Does that mean you’ll go to dinner with me?”

“Yes, Baekhyun. It does.” You roll your eyes playfully.

He smiles looking at the tile, “Okay I’ll let you get home. I hope your chilli turns out well.” He backs away while he’s speaking before turning away and walking to check out, a little pep in his step.

You shake your head grinning before turning back to the shelves.

***

Thursday rolls around and you bump into Baekhyun as he’s entering the building.

“Good Morning, Y/n.” He addresses you by first name again, smiling hard.

“Morning, Lucy.” You reply. He steps into the elevator, standing opposite of you. You can smell his cologne and it’s heavenly. His suit is black and his hair is the opposite, contrasting nicely. Baekhyun’s eyes stare at you in the mirror of the elevator. He can’t help but to study your figure.

You shift in your spot, nervous under his gaze. His eyes wander down your back side, always stopping at your ass.

Ding.

Baekhyun gestures for you to step off the elevator first, how gentlemanly. Baekhyun places another coffee on your desk, and you gladly accept it.

“How was your soup last night?” You ask, taking a sip from the coffee cup.

“It tasted pretty okay, i’m not dead yet.” He chuckles, watching your lips as you drink. “What about the chilli?”

“Excellent, actually. I brought some for lunch if you’d like to try it later?” You offer, you intentionally brought two containers of it to share. You knew Baekhyun almost always—without a doubt misses his lunch break in trade for over working himself. You wanted to distract him for a bit.

“That would be nice.” He smiles warmly, his hand reaching for the door knob to his office. “Work hard.” He cheers quietly before you tell him to do the opposite.

The day carries on with papers after papers. Files after files, stacks after stacks. It was all tiring, today you seemed to be the busiest you’ve been in a while. Luckily the coffee Baekhyun gave you made you wide awake and ready to tackle all the work load thrown at you.

You head to the printing room, and surprised to find it empty. You’re lucky no ones formed a line, you wait for your papers to print and turn to leave. You bump into none other than Byun Baekhyun making both of your papers fly over the room.

“Come to steal my papers?” You say from the ground, the door bumped you on your ass.

Baekhyun’s eyes widen, “Oh my god, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there.”

“Well obviously, there’s a door.” You joke, switching on your knees to pick up your papers.

Baekhyun kneels down to help pick up your papers as well. Both your hands reach for the same paper and they touch, the electricity shoots through your finger tips and your cheeks redden.

How cliché.

“Again i’m really sorry.” Baekhyun says helping you up and handing you back your papers. You’re too embarrassed by the physical contact you made to say anything, so you nod and leave.

You sit at your desk sorting through the freshly printed papers before you realize they’re not yours. Baekhyun gave you the wrong papers and in a rush you left without checking.

You don’t want to confront him about it though, not after what happened in the printing room.

But you have to. Of course you have to—

“Miss Y/n come to my office.” Baekhyun’s voice booms over the intercom. You cringe inwardly, he used your first name out loud, and now everyone knew where you were heading.

You stand up and collect the papers before adjusting your skirt. You turn take a few steps arriving at Baekhyun’s door in literally 5 steps. Couldn’t he have just come out and ask you to see him, himself?

You knock before hearing a faint “Come in.” you proceed to open the door and become immersed in his dark office.

“Miss Y/n, we must’ve gotten our papers mixed up.” He starts, he looks through his stack of papers separating the ones that weren’t his.

“I noticed but I forgot to come here to exchange them...” You lie, Baekhyun looks up at you with an eyebrow quirked.

“I thought you would’ve came sooner you were so slow about it, I had to call you.” He teases, but there’s an underlying sternness to his voice.

You can’t help but squirm under his gaze, switching your weight on your other leg.

“Here are the papers.” You hand them back, his fingers linger over yours and you want to run back to your desk and hide.

Baekhyun enjoys the skin ship before you nervously stutter out an excuse to leave. Leaving Baekhyun to stare at the door smiling.

***

Friday night finally comes and if someone would’ve told you, you would be nervous on this date you would’ve called them crazy.

Your ears are adorned in simple earrings, a necklace laying on your collarbones. A simple tan colored camisole and tight skirt as your outfit. Baekhyun said it was a casual dinner date.

You almost gasp as he joins you at the table, you stand to greet him giving him a short hug.

“Baekhyun you almost look cute in casual clothes.” You tease him, a smile on your face.

He’s dressed in a simple tee with a chain and some dark colored jeans. His hair isn’t slicked back it’s freely bouncing with his movements. He looks as casual as a CEO could be.

He smiles back at your teasing compliment, “And you look gorgeous.” He sincerely says.

“What are we eating?” You ask looking around, it looks like a casual Italian restaurant.

“Do you like anything specific on the menu?” You’ll eat whatever Baekhyun eats.

Minutes later—after Baekhyun orders—your food arrives. The smell makes your mouth water and your stomach almost growl. You twirl the pasta on your fork and eat it as gracefully as one could while eating pasta.

Baekhyun seems to be in lala land as he’s just watching you eat instead of eating himself.

“Earth to Baekhyun, are you going to watch me eat the whole time?” You wave a hand in his face and he seems to snap out of his trance.

“Sorry I was a little mesmerized by your beauty.” He says so sarcastically you gag.

“Ah shut up. This is really good though. I didn’t know this place existed.” You take another mouthful of pasta.

“It’s another hole in the wall type of restaurants, i’ve been coming here for years. The owners are really sweet.” He smiles, eating his own food.

“You know the owners?”

“Yeah they’re an old couple.”

“That’s so cute!” You gush.

Baekhyun displays a lopsided grin, “Yeah, they are.”

***

“This date went really well, The food was delicious, the music was great. This was really sweet of you actually.” You admit shyly. The date was nothing you expected but Baekhyun exceeded your expectations.

“It was nice to finally eat there with someone as well. I had a good time with you.” Baekhyun’s smile is genuine, his cute canines poke out slightly, adding charm.

“I actually have to run by the office to get some papers I left. Do you want to come with?” He asks, reaching for your hand. You let him hold it before answering.

“Sure, why not.” You smile sadly at him. Even when he’s not working he’s working.

***

“I swear I had them in this drawer. Maybe they’re in this one.” Baekhyun opened many drawers and flipped through many folders to find his lost papers. His eyes ran over the desk before stopping. He plucked a folder from under another folder and let out a noise of success.

“Finally, I can work on these at home.”

“Baekhyun?” You called from in-front of the desk, sitting in one of the plush seats

“Huh? Yes Y/n?” He looked up at you, eyes displaying bags under them.

“Why don’t you take a vacation or something. You over work yourself so much.” You were worried for his health at times. He was too hard working.

“You are my vacation. Today was my getaway, on that date with you.”

Your cheeks are more red than a chili pepper.

”I hate you.”

“Why?” Baekhyun stands and comes around to the front of his desk, standing over you.

“Because you’re so good at getting reactions out of everyone.”

“Everyone? Maybe it’s just you.” He pulled your ponytail making your head snap back eyes looking up at him.

Baekhyun smirks, a glint in his eye. “You know if I didn’t like you so much, that mouth of yours would get you in trouble. Someone should put it to some good.” He grabs your jaw, turning you to face him. His eyes pierce yours, his dark eyes holding something in them. Lust.

“Then do it.” You’re compelled to give in, his eyes and his grip on your jaw. His confidence in knowing he’s having you is making you give in more. You would let him take you right here, in this room. Over his desk.

He placed you down roughly. Hiking up your skirt, he ran a hand over your bare ass.

“Wearing thongs on a date? Who are you trying to impress?”

“I would say you but I wasn’t expecting you to be fucking me over your desk.” You wiggle your ass teasingly.

“I made you wear them.” He confesses, you stare at him from his position over you.

“What? If that’s how you dirty talk then don’t.”

“I’m the devil, Y/n I can make a lot of things happen.” He whispered. His eyes darted around your face thinking of a way to convince you.

“The devil who’s a pervert—“ Your words are cut off by your own mouth being shut. Unwillingly shut.

He chuckles darkly, rubbing his hand over your bare ass. “What now my dear?” His hands strip you of your thong and skirt, leaving you with your top on.

“And I can shut that pretty mouth of yours as well.” He unzips his lips, and you’re able to speak again.

“Y-you just-“

“I told you my dear. I am the devil.” He whispers, his voice tickling your skin.

“Well make some demonic things happen over this desk or i’m leaving.” You say playfully.

“My pleasure.” He almost growls, his hands warm as they travel over your body to remove articles of clothing. You’re naked on his desk and he’s still dressed.

“Lucy-“

“Call me Baekhyun.” He commands, “Stand up.”

You do as you’re told. And he turns you around facing him before he kneels, bringing your thigh over his shoulder. He makes eye contact with you before licking a quick stripe up your clit. You gasp, brows furrowing at the feeling.

“B-Baekhyun do it again, that feel so good.” You plead.

He licks once more, twice, thrice. He’s leaving kitten licks on you and you’re squirming under his gaze. His dark intense eyes, and stark white hair. You want to so badly run your hands through it.

So you do. You pull at his locks and he grunts in response, his brows furrowing together. You pull him closer to your heat as he sucks on your clit.

He brings a hand up to your other thigh and it travels up to your tummy and he rubs it soothingly before laying his hand flat against it. He slides his hand around till it finds purchase on your waist, and pulls you closer if possible. His face is absolutely smothered between your thighs and he couldn’t be any closer. His eyes are shut, enjoying the moment and feeling of your warm body.

“You feel so warm, you remind me of hell.” He mumbles into you. It makes you giggle the vibrations going through you.

Baekhyun brings a digit up to your entrance and fingers you slowly.

The sensation is uncomfortable to you, should you tell him you’ve never been gone down on or fingered before? Would it only make his head bigger than it is? You remain silent, biting your lip.

“I can hear you, Y/n.” He whispers, looking up at you with those intense brown eyes. The gaze is penetrating enough nevermind his fingers. His lips curl into a smirk.

“Stop doing that!” You say embarrassed, your thoughts are private for only you to hear. How can you stop all the dirty thoughts about Baekhyun now that he can hear them?

“I can still hear you.” Baekhyun teased, rubbing your clit with his thumb as you grumble at his teasing. Your pouting turning into quiet moaning, filling the room.

The expanse of Baekhyun’s broad back was on display for you. One of your thighs tossed over his broad shoulder, making you feel small and cared for. You couldn’t resist to run your hand over his shoulders and back.

Baekhyun glances up at you through his lashes, an evil glint in his gaze detected by you. He tosses your other thigh over his shoulder and your forced to grab onto the desk for support. You’re bent at the hips, your ass hanging off the desk as your upper body lays back on it. Baekhyun’s lifting your lower body higher and higher. He still licking you over and over, playing with your bud.

It’s not much longer till Baekhyun’s coming undone. His bulge in his pants very noticeable, you could feel it. Baekhyun carefully set you back on the desk again, your thighs removed from his shoulders. He takes your hand and rests it on his belt.

You look up at him your eyes shinning in the fluorescent lighting. Baekhyun smirks at the lust clouding your vision.

“Come on sweetheart, shouldnt you know how to undo a mans belt yourself?” He whispers darkly, lifting your chin with a single finger.

You begin to undo his belt and unzip his pants. Revealing his boxers, his bulge is almost poking through. You carefully pull him out, exposing him. Baekhyun hisses at your cold hands around his hot member, gazing at the innocent look on your face.

He would love to take the look and twist it till no innocence was left. The thought of taking something so unknowing and exposing it to the known made his skin awaken with goosebumps. He wants to defile you, oh so well.

And that he will.

You took his member in front of your lips and kissed it timidly. You’ve never done this before, what if you embarrassed yourself? You licked Baekhyun’s dick, looking up at him for guidance. He took your face into his hand and guided you gently. He bobbed your head slowly, letting you set the pace for what you were comfortable with.

Was Baekhyun being a gentleman?

“Yah—stop thinking that.” He groans out as you lick up his shaft. “I can still hear your thoughts willingly or not.”

You’re embarrassed again, cheeks tinting scarlet. You try to clear your mind and blank out every thought but found that harder than you thought. Every thought was filled with Baekhyun fucking your throat, or him kissing you to death. You wanted either or.

Baekhyun gathers your hair into a ponytail, keeping it off your face. How sweet, you mentally thank him as he starts to thrust into your mouth slowly, testing you. You stilled, letting his length travel further and further. Staring up at him through your lashes sent a chill straight through him. Through all the shit he’s seen for as long as he’s been alive this made his heart beat rapidly. The woman he’s wanted for so long on his desk letting him fuck her mouth, so sloppily yet so, so good.

Baekhyun pushed deeper, entering your throat now. To your surprise you didn’t gag, did you have a gag reflex? No, absolutely not. And this definitely played into Baekhyun’s favor. He went deeper and deeper each thrust till you were nose deep in his tummy. He delivered one final thrust before taking his member from your mouth.

Baekhyun pulls you up to sit up straight he takes your hands and guides them to rest on his shoulders. He looks between you both before guiding his member to your dripping heat.

He slides in so perfectly you let out a delicious whine. The sensation makes you feel full, Baekhyun smirks. Damnit.

“Stop reading my thoughts, Lucy.” Despite your words, you can’t help but to rock back and forth on his cock. You throw your head back, a moan caught in your throat.

Baekhyun places kisses down your neck, over your throat and on your collarbones, worshipping your warm skin.

He lets you control the speed, adding a few thrusts when he can’t help it. Or just to simply hear you squeal.

It’s addictive.

The noises filling the workplace after hours are sinful. You hope there are no wandering janitors or employees that stayed overtime to hear you. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and you hear Baekhyun let out a moan telling you to go faster.

Your hips speed up, the position is stimulating your clit at the same time and you begin to fall apart.

Baekhyun’s grip on your hip is numbing, he’s rocking you on his cock. He swears he’s never fucked like this before.

The desk squeaks as Baekhyun pushes you back and pulls out of you, cumming all over your exposed tummy.

You’re both out of breath, taking in deep breaths as you try to calm your speeding heart rate. You hold onto Baekhyun’s arm, pulling him down onto the desk with you. You want to stay like this for eternity, but sadly this is where you work.

“Alright Y/n.” Baekhyun pats your thigh, “Let’s get you home.” His smile lights up the room.

“Okay, Lucy.”

Happy Halloween! These Halloween themed stories were so much fun to write, I really enjoyed coming up with different concepts and seeing how you all reacted to them. :)

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italianfish · 4 years

Text

Here’s some things that I’ve overheard recently

- Michael Jackson part 1, before he came around

- That’s a sexy gauge

- We have cones in our eyes??? *Turns to friend* Show me your eyes.

- What’s ROYGBIV? Is that a person?

- I put the jewish inside of him

- The air in my house is polluted with sleeping pills

- One day someone will react to my gay jokes

- One day someone brought a tub of ice cream out of their backpack in the middle of class

- Hey Francis (Talking to a blow up alien)

- Why do you like assholes

- Aladdin doesn’t have nipples

- Support your own god damn neck!

- I saw my friend in the bathroom and he gave me orange juice

- FORM THE EQUATOR!!!

- Yes, indeed my good sir

- Sharing your wealth is the way to become poor

- I’m sorry I don’t have calcium in my body

- Why the pancreas?!

- I watched this show and these characters exploded and it was my favorite show

- Someone is going to lose a pancreas

- A: Don’t lose your pancreas B: I’ll try to hold onto it

- She knew how to multiply! And I was like “You’re only three!”

- Come on Moser, hitting the nut won’t do anything

- I work with a prostitute

- I love crunchy pancakes

- You are a big neon doof

- Look I can spit, I’m cool now

- ‘Ay! Trout!

- In her free time she did her taxes

- Hey! You like Raisin Bran?

- If you get a rooster you’ll be hungry, unless you eat him

- It smells like Hawaii

- If A claims he’s a god and Jesus says he’s the son of god... Does that mean Jesus is A’s son?

- We managed to convince our sub that this was a film and lit class so we watched infinity war all period

- A- So let’s keep the duck B- It’s a vulture...

- Did you just call me fuzzy?

- I didn’t recognize you with your clothes on

- He looks like a punk rock jazz drummer

- A- British! British! B- I HAVE A NAME!

- Stop putting your dog in the oven!

- Did you expect it to be that good of a cactus?

- I relate to Squidward so much

- He was like the dad that left to get cigarettes and never came back

- We’re literally following Marty Mcfly

- My elbows are funky fresh

- A- You shank em’ B- No! That is the exact opposite of a solution!

- Unicorns caused global warming

- A- No balls in class! B- But we’re in health

- The crazy chellos are back

- See! I do have friends!

- It’s a train, a train of love

- A- Why do they keep getting rid of the babies? B- I don’t know, abortion

- You have to earn the bucket hat

- My friend brought in 7 bucket hats

- Hide the forks!

- The turtles tried to cross the road once

- I’m scared of turtles

- So does everyone just carry a sword around in their back pocket?

- When you’re fishing, anyone in a bucket hat has authority

- She has cheese on her hook!

- Are your knee pits moist?

- Why are you molesting me with water

- I was born vaccinated

- I was born to be a little spoon

- Why do I look like a hispanic man

- Can I tickle your knee pits?

- You’re going to get eaten by the ocean

- A- You’re a hot mess B- Hey! At least I’m hot!

- They’ve developed a handshake! Isn’t this a problem?!

- We’re in the OG thirteen colonies

- A- I’m not used to seeing those big grassy structures B- You mean trees?!

- My name is bagged milk

- You only drink bagged milk once, in Canada

- It’s not expensive, you’re just poor

- I forgot I’m a lady

- That’s you after I poop

- I want to be Brazilian

- I figured out what the voice was! They’re playing Bingo

- A- Do “coo coo” B- CAW

- It’s probably in a nice aisle, aisle 9

- So inside the bag there are 3 more bags full of milk

- Mom we got the bagged milk

- He told me I looked like Nicholas Cage

- Her bio says inhale the kale

- I feel like an easy bake oven

- The bags just like, left

- But what about the unicorns

- Look at that potato! That looks free!

- Everyone! Find a piece of metal and lick it

- I’m the toilet man

- Go fetch me grapes

- All girls want to molest this

- He ate a whole pancake out of an Applebee’s dumpster

- Why did he eat turf

- I’m on a mission to find dairy products

- I was going to go to school and pretend to be a witch

- Remember when you put the lotion in my mouth and I drank it?

- We’re playing quarter baseball

- Pretend you’re sleeping

- The ultimate frisbee association

- My mom picked me up from school so I could go to ultimate frisbee practice

- They got a $2000 grant for a barely existing ultimate frisbee team

- She’s ultra mom

- The dodgeball guy called my friend a walrus

- We did a dramatic reading of an adult novel

- He was buying materials to make a whip

- Grate her down like a piece of cheese

- We sat in a circle and named our most Jewish quality

- 4 is the cosmic number

- I hate being a fertile woman

- Excuse me I’m Jewish

- Surprise disco duet

- I shook like 7 tents

- She’s the strings teacher, we keep her in the basement

- Whenever we finished a test and we said “I’m done” he would say “I’m done! You’re finished!” his last name was Done

- I thought the fire hydrant was a turkey

- I asked him if his password was like an anniversary or something and he said “It’s the date of my grandparents death”

- He gives us weekly quantum physics lectures

- Bruh! That looks like a lunchbox!

- No offense but this guy would make out with a floorboard

- You seem like the kind of person to kiss a floorboard

- You sound exactly like my pediatrician

- Lots of poop, no sock

- She’s not doing her work, she’s looking at Peppa pig

- Yo neighbor, I need some sugar

- White moms are really easy to scare

- Even though it’s part of Asia, ITS NOT

- Why was there a hanging waffle?!

- I got complimented on my croissant

- You can sell your liver

- Bernie Sanders reminds me of a muppet

- WHY IS THERE A HELICOPTER IN THE KITCHEN!!!!

- What are you going to do? Hunt squirrels?

- *A bunch of AP students shouting “Linguini”*

- I got bitten by an iguana in Aruba

- We got an actor to join the hammock group chat

- Say goodbye to your ovaries

- I’m half a butt cheek away from death

- Are you one of those people who puts ice cream and pop tarts in a blender

- Yo! You got any shoes I can eat???

- That’s how you segregate your trail mix???

- He has a six pack of ribs

- I’m so done with books about African children

- Do homies kiss

- I’m here for the num nums

- Don’t touch my pizza you savage!!!

- HURRY UP AND MEDITATE

- What are you for Halloween? Jewish?

- Do ducks have tails

- He was the one that broke the constitution

- Oh god now there’s Hitler on my paper

- God given right of ruling... Manifest destiny in China

- Do you shampoo your eyebrows

- This isn’t Bayblade!

- Bob Ross wasn’t an artist, he was an art therapist

- If anyone on the team is a jellyfish, it’s definitely Brandon

- It’s your fault that I’m not going to college!

- I’m having spinach for dinner! I’m so excited!

- I locked him in his toolbox

- Let’s rent a midget for a day and we can throw him against a wall

- I know how to utilize money, but do I know how to utilize it well, that’s another question

- Man, that place needs a Chick-fil-a, and I’m going to make it

- We should have the purge in school one day

- If you’re weird enough, people won’t want to rape you

- Flex seal it with tape

- Oh yeah, I got vinegar all over my sweatshirt

- Don’t say “Have a good day”, because I’m not having a good day

- Well maybe someday you’ll have cancer

- What’s up guys, I’m from Richie’s pizza, and today I’ll be showing you my body count

- An obo sounds like a clarinet with Down syndrome

- I DONT HAVE ANY MARINARA SAUSCE ON ME RIGHT NOW

- WE WILL SMUGGLE OUR KIDS TO AMERICA

- I’m the jolly black giant

- You pissed off a priest

- If we get a lot of money, I can take her boyfriend to prom

- Ted Bundy would share a lot of ideas with you

- They’re doing a milk experiment... But with marinara

- A- That’s not a color! B- But it’s on a crayon!

- Hey what’s up cheese goblin

- I’m letting my toes breathe

- I’m just saying, tinfoil doesn’t taste that bad

- YOURE EATING IT YOU UNGRATEFUL SWINE

- When I was away were you in my house? Because it’s happened before

- How do you say I have scoliosis in Italian?

- I’m gonna give give birth to a duck, right here, right now

- Are you comparing a 3D printed violin to genocide

- I HAVE NOTHING AGAINST BLACK PEOPLE

- Brother from another mother, TELL ME ABOUT THAT

- I’m a vulture, just vulturing

- I’m going on a field trip to the sewage treatment plant on my birthday

- You’re making my vagina angry

- Competitive Just Dance team

- Oh no there’s spaghetti falling out of my pockets!

- (Yoda impression) Take anger out on minorities I must

- I can turn off the lights and you’d still be white

#overheard #i just overheard #conversation #funny #funny conversations #haha #long post

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moononmyfloor · 5 years

Text

Review: The Tyrant's Tomb by Rick Riordan

Thoughts on The Cover

Well, if you've seen my previous posts by now you'd know that I'm not a big fan of loud and action-packed covers. I prefer classy, if not always subtle. But you might like it! See, Reyna is owning the bigger portion of it, which is a nice change. :-)

Ok to Low Points

Halfway through the book, I was STILL unable to "get" into the story

Literally, not much was going on for 2/3 of the whole book, which is very surprising considering:

The time between the release dates of The Tyrant's Tomb and The Burning Maze is the longest as of yet. Whereas other books within a series have come out within twelve months of each other, these two books will be released within eighteen months of each other.

.....and that even the most boring books by Uncle Rick had some silver linings here and there to keep you engaged. Even The Dark Prophecy had the gang arrive and settle in Indianapolis, visit the zoo and free Griffins and REVISIT the emperor. Here? Apollo and Co. escorted Jason's hearse into Camp Jupiter in a frankly insulting manner(more about that later), Apollo got sick, we see that the noble prophecies are being tattooed on Tyson's back, Apollo and Co. went on a lil' trial quest and returned, Apollo got more sick.🤷‍♀️ I was so confused I opened the previous books to see how far those stories had progressed by midpoint.

It got slightly better later on, but it doesn't change the fact throughout the 1st half of the book I just kept on turning pages SIMPLY because I wanted it to get it on with and finish the story. Sad.

2. The so-called Tyrant

I didn't see much tyranny, like...only 3 pages were spent in the Tyrant's Tomb and his company, bad old Commodus and Caligula had more appearances than Tarquin who re-appeared in the very last chapters only to get immediately vanquished courtesy of Diana.....yeah. That's that.

3. How Jason's final voyage was depicted

Uncle Rick doesn't write emotional crying scenes well.

People talk about peeing and pop chewing gum bubbles while delivering the hearses of valued, honored characters.

And I seriously wonder in what position and condition poor Jason's body was after all the drama his coffin underwent.

And based on the spoilery lines(which sadly turned out to be not spoilers at all) we saw in the Magnus Chase series I thought we'd at least get a Percy-Annabeth cameo in this, that Jason will have more of his closest comrades mourning and sending him off. Nah. Nada. Not even a mention of Annabeth. Then why did Uncle Rick mention things like Annabeth and Percy being at California and even Magnus joining them at their time of crisis? Utter puzzlement. And we were also robbed of Nico's reaction to Jason's demise, considering how much Nico valued Jason as a brother-in-arms and a friend. Let's not even talk about Thalia. Why, Uncle Rick? :-(

Which brings us to...

4. Plot Inconsistencies

Why do I have to talk about this in each and every book? :-( Seriously, why would you write about Percy and Annabeth going to New Rome to attend college and being broken hearted over Jason DURING the period of Demigod communication malfunction, only to have us know they have YET to travel across the country and when we meet them again it would still be at New York? And now the communication is working, proving that Uncle Rick conveniently forgot about the clues he conveniently dropped.

AT LEAST I'm glad one thing is consistent in the Trials of Apollo series, that when Zeus decided they'll stop meddling too much in demigod affairs at the end of Heroes of Olympus, he meant it and now it's super duper hard to seek a god even for dire needs, no matter how wonderfully (ill)timed that decision was, costing lives of valued heroes.

5. The Haiku-titles weren't amusing at all this time.

I found one fun haiku .

O, blood moon rising

Take a rain check on doomsday

I’m stuck in traffic

6. The whole Apollo-Reyna debacle.

I would say Uncle Rick pulled a clever twist by turning fan theories on their heads here, but it too way more plot space than needed and when he got to the "Gotcha!" part, I was not feeling it. For YEARS now, we heard abut this no-mortal-no-demigod thing over and over, and fans predicted it might mean Apollo's the one for Reyna. And when it initially seemed like it was the route that Uncle Rick was indeed taking, the only thought that circulated inside my head was; "Reyna doesn't need this completely random and unwanted baggage! Give the girl a dam break!!" But then he was like; "Lol nooo. You kids are wrong", but STILL I was not happy...well, for obvious reasons.

What's the point of this whole plotline? So unnecessary. I mean, the fans always wondered WHY exactly would Reyna think she needs a partner in her life, but now I see Reyna might not have had time to contemplate her personal life logically like WE had what's with her dramatic life. Of course the shallow gods would think her heart was something to be "cured" and Reyna never stopped to think that it's quite the opposite till Apollo provided her with a breather and reason. And to answer why din't she choose to join Amazons instead of Hunters is probably that she wanted to be her own person and not be under her sis the Queen once again. She'd indeed have the freedom, calm and few friends so she wouldn't feel lonely and bored with the Hunt. She might even choose to leave Hunters after she found herself in her own time. I get it. But the way it was dragged and executed was meh.

If Uncle Rick intended this plotline of Reyna to be empowering for female readers, in my opinion it was not. Yes, even a badass girl could have weaknesses, not enough self-confidence and wobbly life choices, but Reyna took too much time with her "Eureka!" moment.

It was funny while it lasted, at least.

“Lester.” Reyna sighed. “What in Tartarus are you saying? I’m not in the mood for riddles.”

“That maybe I’m the answer,” I blurted. “To healing your heart. I could…you know, be your boyfriend. As Lester. If you wanted. You and me. You know, like…yeah.”

HAHAHAHA. That Totally came from the left field Lester, even for you.

“Your girlfriend was pregnant when you had her killed?” Reyna launched another kick at my face. I managed to dodge it, since I’d had a lot of practice cowering, but it hurt to know that this time she hadn’t been aiming at an incoming raven. Oh, no. She wanted to knock my teeth in.

“You suck,” Meg agreed.

I mean, if THIS is not the ultimate deal breaker then what is? Apollo might have changed for better by now, but it doesn't mean we can overlook what he did. I for one certainly don't need a loveline for him in this series. I'm glad Uncle Rick drew(or at least seemed to have) a clear line here.

High Points

It took half the page count even for Uncle Rick's special brand of snark to return. Nonetheless I managed to find some good ones. Which is what matters, right?

“So,” I said, making a second attempt at nonchalance, “are you and Thalia, er…?”

Reyna raised an eyebrow. “Involved romantically?”

“Well, I just…I mean…Um…”

Oh, very smooth, Apollo. Have I mentioned I was once the god of poetry?

Reyna rolled her eyes. “If I had a denarius for every time I got that question…Aside from the fact that Thalia is in the Hunters, and thus sworn to celibacy…Why does a strong friendship always have to progress to romance?"

Preach, sister. But then again I would have to ask did YOU have to swear to celibacy to prove your independence....which is sort of the point🙄..

Even when I was a god and could speak any language I wanted, I’d never sung well in Italian. I kept mixing it up with Latin, so I came off sounding like Julius Caesar with a head cold.

LOL

It was time to be helpful. I needed to be repulsive for my friends!

Which you're most of the time...the latter sentence I mean.

4. Don't we all relate? 😂

“O protector of Rome!” I read aloud. “O insert name here!”

5. And one more.

I bet Gregorix was wishing he’d pursued that business degree his mom always wanted him to get. Being a barbarian bodyguard was mentally exhausting.

Heartrending quotes.

This was the source of all our communications troubles—one sad, angry, forgotten little god.

2. This was the wisest quote I saw in the book. The simple indescribable deepness of letting go.

“Good-bye, Apollo,” said the Sibyl’s voice, clearer now. “I forgive you. Not because you deserve it. Not for your sake at all. But because I will not go into oblivion carrying hate when I can carry love.”

Even if I could’ve spoken, I wouldn’t have known what to say. I was in shock. Her tone asked for no reply, no apology. She didn’t need or want anything from me. It was almost as if I were the one being erased.

3. I was saddened to learn about Julia's untimely loss, but I'm sure everybody had a meltdown moment at the following scene.

The old god’s face hardened a bit more, which shouldn’t have been possible for stone. “I see. Well. I’ve concentrated the last bits of my power here, around Julia. They may destroy New Rome, but they will not harm this girl!”

“Or this statue!” said Julia.

4. Honestly? I too forgot until Apollo pointed it out and then I had *shivers*! They're one immediate family, grieving over one loss that affects all of them in various ways, and having mixed reactions about each others the members who survived!

I shivered. How easy it was to forget that this young woman was also my sister. And Jason was my brother. At one time, I would have discounted that connection. They’re just demigods, I would have said. Not really family.

Overall Conclusion

This is the most bored-outta-my-mind I felt after reading a PJO universe book. Am I finally growing out of the Percy Jackson and the Heroes of Olympus fandom? Oh dear, I hope not. I can't imagine living without it and I'm SO not happy with this new development. Just as I feared, Uncle Rick couldn't keep it up after the excellent Burning Maze and now.....please, for your fans' sake who had been loyal for years, I hope at least the final book delivers. Just so we could at least part ways/go dormant with pleasant sentiments and a content heart.🙆‍♀️

#rick riordan #trials of apollo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #the tyrants tomb #book reviews.#reviews #pjo

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borisbubbles · 5 years

Text

ESC 2019 Preshow #09

09. ITALY Mahmood - “Soldi” Autoqualifier

youtube

👏SOL 👏 DI 👏 SOL👏 DI 👏

ENTRY ANALYSIS

Much like Jonida, Mahmood sort of slipped for me when I grew more attached to other songs, but that does not mean he’s not fucking amazing! I, too, fell in love with “Soldi” on first listen when I noticed the lyrics rhymed “Ramadan” with “Jackie Chan”. 😍 😍 😍 😍.

Other amazing things about “Soldi” include: the 👏 use 👏 of 👏 clapping 👏 as 👏 punctuation 👏, the ~Iconic~ lines in Arabic during the middle eight and the wonderful message. It was the FIRST SONG IN THIS YEAR WHICH MADE ME SHED A TEAR!!! 😭😭😭 I don’t know how or why, but I listened to the song with translated lyrics and it just *clicked* for me. I WAS LYING SICK IN BED WITH THE FLU, OKAY. Forgive me my momentary weakness!!!

So is it any wonder “Soldi” was greeted with near-unanimous critical acclaim and support? No, of course not. It’s a fantastic song and 100% deserved to win San Remo!

...

okay, so San Remo... I did *NOT* watch it but I’m aware of Irama, Loredana and Simone, so consider those the reps if I had bothered with an NF corner. Ideal Husband Material, Blue-haired Rocker Hag and Random Dude Who Reads Poetry (not sings. reads.) respectively <3

Slated to win San Remo this year was Ultimo, who entered San Remo with some pretentious piano ballad called “I tuoi particulari” which as the name implies was particularly boring. God what a yawnfest. However, it as also the audience favourite somehow? Him?

So, the juries marked it down just enough so ‘Soldi’ won instead because again, BORING don’t work. Ultimo, instead of being like “well I lost, but oh well, I wasn’t going to Eurovision anyway*”, showed his true Salvador colours by throwing a temper tantrum on social media and spent the entire press conference uglysobbing about how quality was denied (his own words! He refered to *himself* as quality!).

(*he said he would never do Eurovision because he believes it is Eurovision is beneath him 😬) Oh and some right-wing Forza politicians chimed with their usual drivel that Mahmood was unfit to represent Italy because Mahmood is gay & half-arabic while Italy is a vafanculo blob of fragile masculinity which can only be properly represented by drug-riggen, ugly-tattoo’d brats. Guess what? WE 👏 DON’T👏 CARE. 👏 FOR YOUR 👏 MODERN TIME 👏 PREACHIN’ 👏 FORTUNATELY, Mahmood agreed to do ESC (after a week long thinking period lol) and all was well in this world . 👏 ANOTHER VICTORY FOR QUALITY 👏

Edit note: it has become apparent that my brash and snarky assesment was largely malinformed, but user @wingednerdydude provided a pretty detailed summation of the situation.

It’s a quite long explanation I’ll put a tl;dr to appease the fans: Ultimo did indeed not take the loss well, but the media also took an off-hand comment he made about Mahmood out of context and he retaliated, which led a lot of a unnecessary drama and mutual poo-slinging. It’s not just the ESC fans that overdramatize shit, who knew.

For those who want to read it:

Ultimo never insulted Mahmood or said one single bad thing about him or that his song was better than Soldi, let's make this clear from the start. It's also true that he never even said anything complimenting him or his song. Mahmood actually said he never spoke to him nor heard from him in any way. The only thing Ultimo ever said is that he is happy for Mahmood and his success, that's it. If Ultimo really did compliment him then I never read or watched such interview

The mess during Sanremo's press conference blew up right when Ultimo said he was happy for (I'm quoting) "the other ragazzo, Mahmood". Ragazzo is a really neutral term in Italian, it just means young man, I wouldn't know how to traslate it. The journalists found it "insulting" for some weird reason (Mahmood actually said he thinks it's a totally okay term) and said Ultimo was disrespecting him. More context: Ultimo clearly was disappointed about his 2nd place

The press knew it and since the moment he entered the press room they literally started rubbing his missed victory in his face and kept asking him "yeah, but don't you think you should have won?". Ultimo eventually got pissed like mad and rightfully so. They were literally trying to make him lose his temper because they knew he had a bad character and was disappointed. They wanted a scoop and they got it.

Ultimo told the journalists that they were just trying to get an article out of it and that any thing he would say, they would turn it into something else. Then he said (quoting) "I'm fucking done with you". Boom, all of the press room went crazy and started throwing insults at him (sore loser, shit, bastard, ungrateful etc...). At some point Mahmood entered the room and the situation got chill again. By the way, look at the Il Volo guys while he speaks. They agreed.

Which takes us to the next step: why did Ultimo explode like that? I'll get ther: the day after there was a tv program the contestants were supposed to take part in. Ultimo didn't show up. It was full of journalists who obviously insulted him, they showed the clip of Ultimo insulting the press. One of the journalists though, she gave no fucks and just said the things as they were: and that is, the press insulted him. Not only after Ultimo's insults, but also earlier.

Ultimo wasn't the only artist who got insulted: the guys from Il Volo were too, during their performance and while the results were being announced (everyone cheered cause they hadn't won). The journalist says there were clips of it. Ups, looks like they "couldn't show them". Funny how they found Ultimo insulting journalists, but not the opposite. And those videos exist. In particular, there was a video of Ultimo being insulted by press, days before

There were a lot of talks, clickbaity articles written etc... Ultimo tried speaking in a video he posted and told his point of view. Now, mind you, I don't agree with some of the stuff he said. He said that he was sad about the whole thing and that it had been blown out of proportion, his words twisted to show him like the bad guy. And this is true if you read what I wrote. About the results: he was pissed because he had won the televote by a very large margin but lost.

Here I think he was really wrong, cause those are the rules, jury and televote results add up to the final result, it's maths. It may be disappointing, but that's how it is. Still, he was sad that people had to PAY to vote and their votes didn't matter in the end to choose the actual winner. Debatable. But he did make a good point about one thing: the jury votes are made of the votes of some experts (they're like 10 and actually often are people with no music knowledge)

And the rest of the jury votes are journalists. Now, wait a second: the same journalists who threw personal insults at him and Il Volo for no reason if not a personal anthipathy were the ones deciding if they could win or not. Now this is interesting, cause the jury is supposed to be unbiased. His complaining about this is just right in my opinion, something should have been done about it (journalists faced no consequences for their insults to contestants).

This is where the whole thing ended. Ultimo just asked not to speak about it again, Sanremo's week has now well passed and everyone moved on, so that's literally all. I hope I was of some help to better understand the situation. And please guys, no fighting, let's just enjoy Mahmood's song.

AND LET US NEVER SPEAK OF HIM EVER AGAIN!!!!!! ~moving on~

Autoqualifier Odds: very good

The most important thing one has to take away from “Soldi” is that it’s a fucking excellent song. There’s a reason it received near-universal critical acclaim from all sources.

But, as the saying goes, it’s not the song but what you do with it. Mahmood is making great ~live performance progress~ as more pre-parties are showing his growing expertise, but at the same time I feel like everyone has sort of forgotten about him as a potential winner? Actually my friends posited the idea that Mahmood might be a Jamala-esque winner (by finishing second in both jury AND televote) and I think that is an intriguing possibility we should consider! If Duncan somehow doesn’t come through (and he won’t because Expected Winner’s Curse), it will be Mahmood who shall pick up the pieces and win instead. (unless the audience wants to go for the novelty act again, in which case Hatari or Bilal will win) I recognize that Mahmood could go down the usual Italy trajectory and be sandbagged by juries into a mid top 10 placement, I guess. I don’t want to get my hopes up and overrate his odds like I did with Gabbani. Even under the worst circumstance, Mahmood is definitely finishing somewhere in the top 10 though, as all Italian men (fragile or not) do.

Projected placement: 1st-8th in the Grand Final.

Link to the masterpost

#Eurovision #Eurovision Song Contest #ESC2019 #Eurovision 2019 #Italy #Mahmood #Soldi #ClapClap

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violetsandloveletters · 5 years

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How’s your day going? I feel very unwell & have done for the past few days. So apart from avoiding being sick & being in pain, fine. I’ve just been on the sofa watching Black Mirror & resting. What shape is your face? Round.. What sort of computer are you on right now? A Samsung laptop. What’s your favourite restaurant? Five Guys, I know it’s fast food but my god. What does your umbrella look like? It’s black & white floral from Paperchase, need it in the UK atm as it’s pissing it down... HAPPY SUMMER.

Do you share a room with anyone? Not while D has been away unwell, unless you count my cat Hades. Are you superstitious? Yes, no 3 drains for me! Or walking under ladders & knocking on wood blah blah. Do you believe in astrology? I do. I’m a Cancer, all my favourite people including my cat are either Pisces or Scorpio. & i’m very much drawn to guy Fire signs which is D & my ex & one of my best friends so... Take the vowels out of your name. What does it spell? Lrn. Do you eat breakfast every day? No, literally never. I’m never usually awake at breakfast time! If I am doing something in the day I will try & eat to stop me getting a headache or feeling sick but not breakfast food. You can go back in time and slap one historical figure in the face. Who? Hitler, Brutus there’s probably a ton though tbh. Do you have socks on? Describe them. Yes. I’m cold! Grey & mint green fluffy socks. Pick up your cell phone for a second. Who’s your first text from? My auntie. Fourth missed call? My dad. Are you one of those people who has like a hundred apps on their phone? No I don’t think so. I only have 2 pages too because the first one is mainly sorted into folders. Have you ever been to the ballet? No. Do you have good reflexes? I guess... Do you have many internet friends? No & I like it that way. Do you think those friendships are on level with your real life ones? - Do you keep a journal? I do but not a regular one. Describe for me your ideal sandwich. My Subway order... Italian BMT (was on honey oat but they changed the bread so 9 grain wheat or italian herb & cheese), double cheese (normal & grated), lettuce, sweetcorn (sometimes red onion & tomato) & the new vegan garlic aioli. What are some names that you like? Nature names... Forest, Luna, River etc or Greek gods/Godesses... Apollo, Hera... my cat is called Hades... Is there something you’re putting off doing in favour of this survey? No, i’m taking it easy today. Are your friends generally like you or different from you? My best friend Tash is so opposite yet the same to me it’s crazy. Like when we shop, our whole time is spent saying ‘I don’t like this but you will’ ha. Link me to a picture you think is cute. It’d be one of my cat or me & D so... Do you like blowing bubbles? I’m not 5, but if it was something that would entertain the cat I would do it, What’s the band that you love even though you know they’re awful? Well I don’t think any bands I like are awful unless it was some cheesy 80′s that I love. Ever had a pillow fight? Not that I recall. What do you usually pick in truth or dare? Truth. Are you better at posing good questions or coming up with outrageous dares? Good questions. Do you coo over other people’s babies? No, until I have my own, I hate babies. Apart from D’s niece S cos she is hilarious. What is something that makes you very squeamish? My dad is obsessed with Dr Pimple Popper & Embarrassing Bodies & he knows any shit like that freaks me out & he will ALWAYS facetime me when watching them. Also vomit. Do you try those as-seen-on-TV things? I have a few JML stuff we have here as there are stands in like Asda & Wilko... Has there been a celebrity death that really affected you? Michael Jackson & Robin Willams. Do you get the dressing on the salad or on the side? On the salad. Do you make lists, or are you more of an unplanned person? I make lists. If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends? If you’re still in school, do you think you will? I left school 11 years ago so I guess, I mean D’s sister is marrying one of my close friends from my year at school so there’s an example... Is there something you like to eat that most people think is gross? Erm, i’m not sure. Do you have a lot of photographs of your friends? I guess. Do you dye your hair regularly? Yeah I dye it purple. Do you think, if it came down to it, that you’d be able to kill someone? In self defence yes I’d have too. Are you good at rating things?

Sure

What’s a movie that you want to see? Once Upon a Time in Hollywood. What was the name of your third grade teacher? No idea, it was like 20 years ago maybe.

Are you a competitive person? No. Do you get into a lot of arguments? No. Do you like to go shopping? Yes. Can you knit? No. What’s something that you really like about yourself? That i’m loyal & caring. Can you pass for older than you are? Not one person believes i’m 27 years old because I look so young so no way.. Have you ever been in a situation where that was necessary? No. Do you talk a lot? No. Are you a Facebook creeper? Who doesn’t like a nosey now & then. What is a smell that you hate? Fish. There’s loads, i’m very sensitive to smells lol. If you don’t set your alarm clock or anything, when will you wake up? 12 or 1pm. Do you even use an alarm clock, or do you just use your phone? Phone & Fitbit. Do you watch Maury or Steve Wilkos or anything like that? I used to watch them both & loved them! What did you get your best friend for their last birthday? Don’t remember! What did they get you for yours? Some skincare & body stuff as she works for an online beauty retailer so gets all the good stuff. Are you capable of finishing a game of Monopoly? Yeah, me & D love it. What is a word or phrase that you overuse? “fuck sake”, “i feel like shit”, “im tired”, “im hungry”, “Hades, are you hungry?”1 What’s your favourite painting? Well it’s not a painting but “The Sleep or Reason Produces Monsters” by Francisco Goya or Picasso’s “Guernica” cos it’s fucking weird. Have you ever written to your congressman? No? Did you get sent those free AOL discs a lot? Yeah, I remember those, does that show my age? Are you allergic to anything? Quorn. What are you going to do now that you’re finished with this survey? Watch the episode of Black Mirror that’s been on pause for like an hour.

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seacrowisland · 6 years

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Langblr Secret Santa

Hiya my dear @genderqueerfujioka , I’m your Secret Santa and here to spread some Langbrl joy! Since the Langblr coordinator told me you were interested in Italian and Literature I thought, I might share a short introduction to Italian Literature with you as it is the thing I’m currently studying in university. However, when stalking your profile, I couldn’t help but notice that you are very interested in learning Swedish at the moment, which is why I have created a second gift for you. This way, you can decide which language you want to focus on today and keep the other one for Boxing Day or New Years. (Or open it right away as well.)

If you want to be a pro at Italian Literature (or seem like it) you have to know these three drama queens:

From the left to the right they are Dante Alighieri, Giovanni Boccaccio and Francesco Petrarca (also known as Petrarch). They are also called the “tre corone” which means “three crowns” and even though they published all of their works in the 14th century they are still considered the finest literature one could possibly read. (They are like Italian Shakespeares basically and everyone’s obsessed with them.)

Let’s start with the first one, shall we? Dante was a pretty cool guy. Born in 1265 in Florence he first became a politician, but since he choose the wrong party (there were two oppositional parties in Florence at that time and they were at each other's throats) he had to flee from Florence in 1301, which the other party used to deny him entrance into the city for the rest of his life. (If he had paid enough money maybe they would’ve let him back in but he wasn’t really interested in that.) Dante then basically founded Italian Literature as he used the “volgare” (the language of the common folk in Florence at that time) as the language of his stories. (Before him it was all Latin, from then on all the authors wrote in the Florentine accent because through Dante it became cool.) His most famous work is “La Divina Commedia” (“The Divine Comedy”) in which Vergil, a Latin poet, as well as one of his lovers, Beatrice, lead him through the three realms of the dead. (Hell, Purgatory and Paradise.) Sort of ancient fantasy literature which also teaches about theology, philosophy and also about science at that time. He died in 1362.

Boccaccio was a little bit more chill, he was also a politician (born in 1313 in Florence as well) but instead of getting send into exile he kept calm, travelled a lot and wrote a set of 100 novels called “Il Decameron” (from deka=ten and hemera=day because it takes place within ten days). The novels are all centred around a group of ten young people that flee from the plague in 1348 and lift in the countryside for ten days. (Obviously, the plague wasn’t over within 10 days but it’s a story after all.) During those days they each told a story every day and then the one who had told the best story was selected king or queen of that day. The novels all take place among normal, upper-class people (merchants most of all) and are focused on the intelligence of the characters, which was something quite new at that time. Boccaccio was also obsessed with Dante and literally wrote a biography about him, there was that much enthusiasm. (Even though Dante didn’t return it.) He died in 1375.

Last but not least Petrarch. (I’m gonna call him that even though his actual name was Petrarca but Petrarch is more common among English speakers.) He was born in 1304 and—not, not Florence, but Arezzo, Italy. As his dad was a politician, who worked close to Avignon, Petrarch grew up in France, in a rural area close to the Mont Ventoux. Why does this matter, you might ask? Well, because Petrarch one day (in 1336) decided to climb up that mountain (most people at that time had better things to do than to climb up random mountains, so it was quite unusual for him to do so) but what made this hike so special is, that he wrote about it in a letter to Francesco Dionigi. In this letter, he has the spectator was in the centre which was a massive cut in the experience of nature and landscapes in the 14th century. Suddenly the entire aesthetic changed because suddenly there wasn’t just nature but a reflection of your innermost self within the things you see in front of you. Petrarch was a poet and also the founder of the (Italian) sonnet (which was later copied by many Englishman and once it was already out fashion picked up by Shakespeare to be cool again, so Petrarch is the reason why people are able to obsess over Shakespeare’s sonnets) but most of all he changed the worldview from being centred on God and his creation to being focused on the self and your feelings. In his poems, the “Canzoniere” (consisting of 366 poems) he wrote about one thing: His love for a girl called Laura. When Petrarch first met her, she was already bound to another man, but that didn’t keep him from loving her. He wrote to her 266 poems “in vita” (so whilst she was still alive) and 100 “in morte” (once she had died), talking about his feelings about her and so on. (By the way, they weren’t just sonnets but also songs and ballads.) I’d also have to mention, that the Italian sonnet differs from the (standard) English sonnet: Both have 14 lines but whilst Shakespeare had three quatrains (abab cdcd efef) followed by a heroic couplet (gg), the original Petrarchan sonnet consisted of a rhyming octave (abbaabba) followed by a rhyming sestet (cdcdcd).

To include some actual Italian, here’s Petrarch's XXXV (35th) poem. (I included an English version below so that you can understand it properly, but I’d definitely encourage you to try and read it the way it is.)

Solo et pensoso i piú deserti campi vo mesurando a passi tardi et lenti, et gli occhi porto per fuggire intenti ove vestigio human l'arena stampi.

Altro schermo non trovo che mi scampi dal manifesto accorger de le genti, perché negli atti d'alegrezza spenti di fuor si legge com'io dentro avampi:

sí ch'io mi credo omai che monti et piagge et fiumi et selve sappian di che tempre sia la mia vita, ch'è celata altrui.

Ma pur sí aspre vie né sí selvagge cercar non so ch'Amor non venga sempre ragionando con meco, et io co llui.

(And now the English version)

Alone and thoughtful, through the most desolate fields, I go measuring out slow, hesitant paces, And keep my eyes intent on fleeing Any place where human footsteps mark the sand.

I find no other defence to protect me From other people’s open notice, Since in my aspect, whose joy is quenched, They see from outside how I flame within.

So now I believe that mountains and river-banks And rivers and forests know the quality Of my life, hidden from others.

Yet I find there is no path so wild or harsh That love will not always come there Speaking with me, and I with him.

So, first of all, you can probably totally tell, that this poem is about how in love he is and even though he’s trying to hide it from people, it’s not really working out the way he planned it. I’m not going to go on about the verse rhythms and stuff like that, but I would like to point out (a) the beautiful form of the Italian sonnet and (b) the connection between the nature (fields, sand, mountains, river-banks) and his feelings, wanting to find a path that hides him from people and most importantly lets him escape love. (But, as he precisely states, there is no such path.)

There are lots of other Italian writers (like Giacomo Leopardi, who totally looks like Eddie Redmayne and was one of the first romanticists or Carlo Goldoni, who was super important for the Italian Drama, which in itself it a whole other story) but if you know the tre corone, people are going to be super impressed and their works are also great reads. Personally, I most enjoy Boccaccio because his stories are quite simple, but Petrarch's poetry is nice too and if you’ve got the time, maybe one day you’ll read into “La Divina Comedia”. (I honestly tried but couldn’t do it.)

I hope you enjoyed your gift! If you want to talk about Italian Literature (or Drama or poetry) you can text me anytime. I know, that this isn’t exactly a vocabulary list or anything like that, but I always enjoyed not only learning my target language but also a few of the cultural backgrounds so hopefully, we’re on the same track here. Happy holidays and have a good new year!

#langblr #secret santa #langblr secret santa #italian #italian literature #dante #dante alighieri #petrarch #francesco petrarca #boccaccio #tre corone #la divina comedia #the devine comedy #langblrsecretsanta2017

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darling-cas · 7 years

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We Are Young: Chapter 1

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Masterlist

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“Coach is going to kill you.”

Aelin had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She glanced over at Nehemia, but the dark skinned beauty was too busy backing into a parking spot of the school parking lot to pay her any attention.

“Uncle Orlon,” The car came to a stop and Aelin sent Nehemia another pointed look - “Isn’t going to kill me for added a little extra sugar in my coffee.” A pause. “Uncle Weylan might though.”

“There are several things wrong with your statement,” Lysandra spoke up from the back of the car. She leant forward to look at herself in the rearview mirror, fixing her hair as she spoke. “One, you got a gingerbread latte and added three extra packets of sugar. I wouldn’t call that ‘a little’. And two,” Lysandra turned, sending Aelin a deadly smile. “Coach Weylan will definitely kill you when he finds out.”

“If he finds out.” Aelin smirked, taking a big sip of her over sugared drink.

Nehemia couldn't help but snort as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “Of course he’s going to find out. Coach Weylan finds out everything.”

Lysandra nodded in agreement. “I hope you’re ready for all those on-ice push-ups.”

“Oh, will you two shut up?” This time, Aelin did roll her eyes. “You’re being overdramatic.”

“You’re not seriously calling us overdramatic right now.” Lysandra let out a barking laugh. “Have you met yourself?”

“We are talking about the same Uncle and coach, right? The one Aedion calls a ‘cold, hard bastard?’ The one who made you do twenty minutes of stroking around the rink because you ate a chocolate bar before practice?” Nehemia raised an eyebrow.

“Okay fine,” Aelin pushed opened the car door. She stepped out into the crowded parking lot with Nehemia following her lead. “Uncle Weylan is going to kill me when he finds out. But at least I’ll die with my stomach happy and full of sugary goodness.”

Nehemia rolled her eyes in good nature, a laugh leaving her lips. She reached into the car, grabbing her bag as Lysandra stepped out of the back seat.

“God,” She stretched her arms over her head, ponytail swaying. “Having a month off this summer ruined me. We’re already over a month into the season and I still feel out of shape.”

“One would think all the time you and Aedion spend together would keep you fit.” Nehemia stated bluntly, raising an eyebrow.

A smirk started to form on Lysandra’s lips as the girls made their way across the parking lot, towards the school.

“Oh, you have no idea. We can literally go for hours. And he does this thing, with his tongue, where-”

“Stop right there,” Aelin groaned, causing Lysandra and Nehemia to laugh. “I do not need to hear this about my cousin. Especially when it’s with my best friend.”

Lysandra throw an arm around Aelin’s shoulders. “Listen. You left me this summer to run around in Italy. And Nehemia,” She nodded her head in the girl’s direction, “Worked all summer. So I needed someone to hang out with.”

The look on Nehemiah's face was devilish. “And instead you got someone to make out with.”

Aelin laughed, taking a sip of her drink. Lysandra dropped her arm before turning to Nehemia with a playful stern look on her face.

“Someone thinks they’re funny this morning.”

“I’m always funny.”

Lysandra rolled her eyes as another laugh left Aelin’s lips. She started to say something when someone strutted past her, just barely missing her shoulder.

“Oh Aelin,” Kaltain stopped just before the steps of the school, turning to face the trio, her black hair flying behind her. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Oh Kaltain,” Aelin crooned, giving her a sickly sweet smile, “Go away.”

Kaltain made a show of looking Aelin up and down. “I see you still haven’t gotten rid of all the italian food you ate this summer.”

“Aren’t you just extra bitchy this morning,” Lysandra crossed her arms over her chest, eyes narrowed.

But Aelin wasn’t falling into the trap. Instead, the grin on her face widened.

“And I see all the extra practice you did this summer paid off. I heard you can now land your triple toe.”

Kaltain blinked, taken aback by Aelin’s comment. But the look of confusion quickly vanished and was replaced by a smug one instead.

“I did. That’s what happens when you practice instead of taking fancy trips around the world.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” Aelin’s grin turned deadly. “Though, if you were having that much trouble, I would have gladly helped you. Y’know, since I’ve been landing that jump for over a year now.”

Kaltain’s gaze turned murderous. Aelin could see Lysandra biting back a laugh out of the corner of her eye.

“Though it’s really nice that Coach Perrington practiced with you all summer,” Nehemia spoke up. Her voice friendly but holding a cold, hard tone to it. “Some of us just need more practice than others.”

The dark haired girl narrowed her eyes. She took a step forward, but before she could say anything, someone called her name. She looked over her shoulder, a smile forming on her lips at the sight of her friends at the top of the stairs. She turned back around, casting Aelin one last dirty look before stomping up the stairs.

“It amazes me that she can skate with that stick so far up her ass.” Lysandra sighed as they made their way up the stairs of the school.

“Does she bother you even the slightest bit?” Nehemia glanced over at Aelin, who couldn’t help but laugh.

“Not even a little bit,” she grinned. “She’s a determined bitch, but that’s not enough to make it in figure skating. You need to have fun with it. Which is something she lacks.”

“That was very deep. I’m impressed.” Lysandra teased, but Aelin just sent her a lazy smirk.

“Wise words from World’s Champion Orlon Galathynius.” She smiled. “Plus, she could use some sugar in her diet. It might absorb some of that ego.” Aelin tipped her drink before taking a big sip.

Nehemia rolled her eyes, a smile on her lips, as Lysandra laughed.

The girls finally walked through the main doors of the school. The crowd grew thicker once they were inside. Students were chatting and laughing, making their way to their lockers and classrooms.

“Look who it is,” Nehemia teased as they turned down the hallway. “Lover boy.”

Aelin followed her gaze, and sure enough, Aedion was standing at his locker. His golden hair was pulled back in a small, messy pony tail. He placed some books in his bag before closing his locker and looking up. A smile broke out on his face when he found the girls making their way towards them.

“Good morning, ladies.” He said to them all before pulling Lysandra in, giving her a kiss.

Aelin groaned half-heartedly as she propped her hip against the lockers. “Great. Now I can puke up my drink. At least Uncle Weylan won’t have a problem anymore.”

“Oh shut up.” Aedion wrapped an arm around Lysandra's waist, turning to his cousin. “You love the fact that we’re dating.”

“I can’t even lie right now. Because I actually do.” A broad smile stretched across Aelin’s lips. “I’d love it more if I didn’t have to witness the kissing, though.”

Aedion rolled his eyes, laughter leaving his lips. Then suddenly, as if a light bulb went off in his head, he turned to Lysandra.

“Speaking of kissing,” he winked, “We’ll have to postpone our date. Coach added an extra practice tonight because of the big game next week. So I’m going over to Rowan’s after school for an hour or so before heading to the rink.”

“Rowan as in new guy Rowan?” Lysandra raised a teasing eyebrow. “Should I be jealous?”

“Nah. He’s hot, but I only have eyes for you, Lys.” He pressed a kiss onto her forehead, pulling her closer.

Lysandra rolled her green eyes, a small smile pulling on her lips. “Damn right.”

“And what about me?” Aelin raised an eyebrow. “You were supposed to be my ride home.”

Aedion stared at her for a moment before turning his pleading gaze to Nehemia.

“Can’t,” Nehemia shook her head. “I have work after school.”

Aedion swore softly under his breath. He bit his lip, looking around the crowded hallway as if he could pull someone random student aside and get them to bring her home. A few desperate moments later he sighed.

“I’ll bring you home, I guess.” He sounded so defeated that Aelin couldn't help but huff and roll her eyes.

“Don’t sound too excited.” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. “Sorry I’m cutting into your Rowan time.”

Aedion rolled his eyes, his lips moving to say something when the warning bell for first period rang throughout the school.

“Saved by the bell,” He threw Aelin a smirk before turning to Lysandra. “Can I walk you to your first class?”

“I think I can make it there myself, asshole.” She teased before tossing her bag over his shoulder. “But it you must, you can carry my bag while you're at it.”

Aedion mumbled something under his breath as Lysandra flipped her hair over her shoulder. Aelin couldn't help but laugh as he followed her best friend down the hallway like a lost puppy.

“So,” Nehemia spoke up as she and Aelin started down the hallway in the opposite direction. “Have you met him yet?”

Aelin glanced over at Nehemia with a raised eyebrow. “Who?”

“Rowan.”

“No. But Aedion talks about him enough that I feel like I have,” Aelin stepped around a group of freshman before continuing. “Aedion practically worships him. Says he’s the best center they’ve ever had on the team.”

“Better than Lorcan?”

“That’s what Aedion says. And anyone who can out do Lorcan Salvaterre gets points in my book.” Aelin cast Nehemia a knowing smirk before shaking her head. “But honestly, I could care less about meeting Rowan.”

A look over confusion took over Nehemiah's face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Aelin shrugged as they walked into their math class. “I mean, have you seen him? He walks around the school like he’s above everyone else. The only people he talks to are the hockey boys.”

The confused look fell from Nehemiah's face, her eyes now shining. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” The two girls sat down in their normal seats towards the back. “And I haven’t even said two words to the guy, but he looks at me in the hallway like I killed his puppy. Like, just seeing him at this point makes me so mad – and what are you smiling at?”

Aelin glared at Nehemia. She had a broad grin on her face, her dark eyes shining with laughter.

“Nothing,” she shrugged, pulling a textbook out of her bag. “I just feel like there’s more there than you’re actually seeing.”

“Oh God, is this one of your feelings?”

“All I’m saying is you don’t even know him,” Nehemia shrugged. “Get to know him before you judge him. He may surprise you.”

Aelin shook her head, pulling out her own books. Her mind flashed to the looks icy looks of complete hatred Rowan gave her whenever she was around. It was the same look he’d given her every time their eyes met since that first time in the lunchroom the first week of school. She had no idea what she’d done to him, but it seemed he already hated her. Then again, he was friends with Lorcan Salvaterre. Lord only knows what that asshole had said about her.

But if he was so quick to judge her, why couldn't she do the same? He was just another senior who walked around like he was too good for everyone else here.

“He doesn’t seem like a very surprising or exciting guy,” Aelin said as their math teacher walked in. Her gaze moved over to Nehemia. “Besides, I’m staying away from him. He seems like he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

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Rowan sighed as he stood on the front steps of the school.

It was only the first week of October, but the leaves were already starting to change color. There was a bitterness in the air that could only mean fall was fast approaching. But the sun was warm as it shined down on them.

Students ran out the main doors after the end of a long school day, forming irritating clumps in the parking lot. Everyone was anxious and ready to get home or go about their afternoon.

Rowan stood there, leaning against the railing as he watched them. This was normally the moment where the new guy felt the most distant from everyone else. But he didn’t feel like that at all. In fact, the past month of school couldn't have gone better, really. He knew his way around, he actually liked most of his classes, and got along with the teachers. He made the hockey team - he couldn't remember the last time he saw his mother smile as big as she did when he told her – and he even considered himself pretty good friends with the other guys on the team at this point. Some more than others, but still.

He considered himself lucky. He was doing well for being the new kid.

“So. Slight change in plans.”

Rowan turned at the sound of the voice. He found Aedion walking towards him, an apologetic look on his face.

Rowan only raised in eyebrow in response. “Whats up?”

“You can either come with me, as originally planned, or ride to your house with Lorcan,” Aedion explained, coming to a stop next to Rowan. “I forgot I have to bring Aelin home.”

It took everything in him not to groan at her name.

Aelin.

It wasn’t really fair of him honestly, to already have an opinion on her. He hadn’t even said a single word to her. He’d only seen her at school, passing her in the hallways or in the cafeteria. And at the rink. Turns out, she was a figure skater. Just the thought made Rowan want to groan even more. Not because he hated figure skaters, but because the rink was just another place he’d have to see Aelin flitting around.

The opinion he did have of her, wasn’t a good one. He’d pieced it together from what he’d heard. Not just from Lorcan - who, he’d admit, did exaggerate a nice bit - but from pieces of conversations around him. From a comment Fenrys would make here and there. From stories Aedion would tell him about him and his cousin growing up. From conversations in the hallways or class. Even from their goalie on the team - Dorian - and one of their defenders - Chaol. In fact, there seemed to be a nice bit of bad blood between Aelin and Chaol.

But the stories weren’t the only thing Rowan went by. He saw the way she prowled down the hallway. The smirk that was constantly present on her lips. The way she flipped her hair to get what she wanted. The raise of her perfectly-shaped eyebrow she always gave him when their gazes locked.

Aelin Galathynius was an annoying, spoiled little princess that he wanted nothing to do with.

But he wasn’t about to say this to Aedion. So he simply gave him a nod.

“I’ll catch a ride with Lorcan.” He said. “I have to be at my house anyways to let everyone in, so it makes more sense.”

He did not want to ride in a car with Aelin if he didn’t have to.

“Sweet,” A broad grin appeared on Aedion’s face. “She’s only about a 10 or 15 minute drive from your house anyways. So it won't take me long. She lives next door to me actually.”

Rowan blinked back his surprise. “Really?”

“Old houses. They’ve been in our families forever. The Galathynius, Ashryvers, and Havilliards have lived in this town forever.”

Rowan nodded. He understood this. For as long as he could remember, the Whitethorns lived in Doranelle. Even now, his Uncles and cousins were still there. Old families loved their hometowns.

“Anyways,” Aedion said. “You can head on home. I’m just waiting for Aelin-”

“You rang?”

Rowan couldn't help but narrow his eyes slightly at the sound of her voice. He looked up over Aedion’s shoulder and found Aelin Galathynius making her way towards them. Her hips swayed with every step, the corner of her lips turned up as she stopped next to her cousin.

This was the closest he’d even seen her. Her blonde hair was half pulled back, falling in curls. Those turquoise-gold eyes shined in the sunlight. As Rowan took in her average height and honed, curvy body - most likely achieved because of her constant training - he couldn't help but glare a bit harder. Even just standing there, it felt like she was the queen and they were merely her court.

With a raised eyebrow, Aelin propped her arm on Aedion’s shoulder. She made a show of looking him up and down. Her eyes slowly trailed from his sneaker-clad feet to his short, white hair, taking him in. Rowan felt the slightest bit of anger and annoyance start to hum to life under his skin.

The tension around them grew thicker as Aelin’s smirk grew wider.

“Have you two met before?” Aedion cast a weary glance between them. But Rowan could have sworn he saw some amusement shining through.

“I don’t think we have,” She drawled, a wicked look in her eyes. “Aelin. But I have a feeling you knew that already.”

Rowan’s lips thinned. This girl… This girl pushed his buttons. Hard. But he wouldn’t let her get under his skin.

“And you are?” She pushed, dropping her arm and crossing over her chest.

He couldn't help but narrow his eyes. He knew she knew his name. Everyone did. Plus, he did not like her tone one bit.

“Rowan.” He tried to sound bored, though his tone held a cold edge.

“Well, Rowan,” She rolled his name around her tongue, trying it out for the first time. Her voice was sickly sweet as she spoke, as if she were mocking him in some way. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Are you going to be riding with us?”

“He's going with Lorcan,” Aedion stepped in. A playful glare appeared on his face as he looked at his cousin. “Seeing as I have to bring your annoying ass home.”

“Annoying, beautiful ass.” Aelin smiled broadly. “Get it right.”

Aedion rolled his eyes, a chuckle leaving his lips. “How you can skate with that ego-filled head of yours amazes me.”

Rowan couldn’t resist the eye roll at this point, or the slight snort he let out. It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough for Aelin to hear. Her hard gaze snapped in his direction. The smirk was gone and a glare took it’s place. Annoyance shined in her eyes.

Good. He was glad that he annoyed her just as much as she annoyed him.

Before she could speak, Rowan turned to Aedion, ignoring Aelin completely as he spoke.

“I’ll see you at the house,” He nodded, giving Aedion a quick fist bump.

He turned on his heel without even a glance at Aelin, making his way down the front steps of the school and towards Lorcan’s car. He knew he’d still be here. Lorcan always chilled by his car for a good ten minutes after classes ended, chatting up one girl or another.

He’d barely made it down the steps, when Aelin’s voice called after him. “I’ll see you around, Rowan.”

He didn’t bother turning around.

There was a hardness to her tone that wasn’t there before. A bitterness. Almost as if she hoped she wouldn’t.

And honestly, he hoped so too.

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academicsapphic · 7 years

Text

70 questions tag

i was tagged by @academicsapphic omg thank you so much!!!

01: do you have a good relationship with your parents? yeah, i like to think so. it’s better when i don’t have to live with them, as is my relationship with my entire family. you know what they say about absence

02: who did you last say “i love you” to? my dad

03: do you regret anything? so many things but can’t change it so

04: are you insecure? literally all the time!!! i don’t know what it’s like to have confidence or to not hate yourself!! maybe someday!!!

05: what is your relationship status? single, as it has been for 18.5 years, as it will be for 18 more

06: how do you want to die? i truly don’t care as long as it’s painless. i don’t wanna feel shit.

07: what did you last eat? 2 scrambled eggs, a handful of spinach and 1/2 cup of onion

08: played any sports?

i briefly played basketball and did cheerleading and gymnastics as a young kid, but i play softball for like 12 years on and off. wish id stuck with cheerleading though that shit’s amazing

09: do you bite your nails? yes as long as i can remember. and now when i let them grow out, they grow away from my

10: when was your last physical fight? never been in one. i talk about how i wanna fight literally all the time but if it came down to it i’d either run or get my ass beat

11: do you like someone? after a whole year of liking girls who turned out to be straight and white boys who all disappointed me, i’m tryna stop cause i’m tired of getting my feelings hurt. it’s not cute.

12: have you ever stayed up 48 hours? i think i stayed up almost that long at the beginning of freshman year

13: do you hate anyone at the moment? i’m sure there’s lots of people i am a small person filled with hate and rage

14: do you miss someone? my friends and my freedom. does that count as a someone?

15: have any pets? we have a dog at home, but i individually don’t. i might get a therapy cat someday at school we’ll see

16: how exactly are you feeling at the moment? tired and bored and mad cause it’s hot outside

17: ever made out in the bathroom? no why that location? seems gross

18: are you scared of spiders? horrified to an unnatural degree. i have a really awful fear of bugs and it’s ruining my life

19: would you go back in time if you were given the chance? fuck no i’m black my ass would be grass i don’t even wanna be in this current time i’m tryna go 100 years forward

20: where was the last place you snogged someone? my imagination

21: what are your plans for this weekend? sleep, exercise, chill

22: do you want to have kids? how many? i’m 100% sure that i don’t ever want to give birth. that shit is so painful i dont understand why anyone would ever do that voluntarily. my period cramps are severe enough to make me wanna kill myself. if i have kids, we’re adopting or surrogate or something like i refuse. never in my life. also kids are a massive huge responsibility which you can never get rid of and that terrifies me. i’ll begin to consider having kids in ten years, but right now it’s a hard no.

23: do you have piercings? how many? ears, 2.

24: what is/are/were your best subject(s)? in high school, i consistently got A’s in my english and humanities classes, in college the only class i’ve got an A in so far is italian

25: do you miss anyone from your past? no? not really. if you’re in my past i probably hate you and that’s why you’re not in my present.

26: what are you craving right now? i try to distract myself from wanting food or being hungry cause i’m trying to lose weight and i’ll drive myself mad

27: have you ever broken someone’s heart? lol no. does my best friend in the 9th grade who told me he liked me then i stopped talking to him for a solid six months count? i doubt it.

28: have you ever been cheated on? can’t be cheated on when you’re single 😏

29: have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? never had one

30: what’s irritating you right now? the fact that summer is a thing and the fact that bugs exist

31: does somebody love you? yeah, lots of people im sure

32: what is your favourite colour? purple

33: do you have trust issues? i mean i guess kinda? i’m just really insecure with myself and afraid of people hurting me but also i trust really easy so i’ve clearly learned nothing

34: who/what was your last dream about? i don’t remember

35: who was the last person you cried in front of? i normally don’t cry in front of other people, but i think when i had just got home from school and i was in the car with my parents and they started grilling me about my major and how bad i did first year and i had been holding it in for so long cause that whole year i literally thought i was gonna kill myself that i just had a breakdown, i mean sobbing so hard i was incoherent. then i spent all of lunch trying not to cry again. it was a mess.

36: do you give out second chances too easily? lol not anymore, since i got to college if you even slightly wrong me one time, im fuckin done with you. permanently.

37: is it easier to forgive or forget? forget

38: is this year the best year of your life? my first year of college was simultaneously the best and worst time ever? idk but i’m really excited to go back

39: how old were you when you had your first kiss? i haven’t had it yet 👍🏾

40: have you ever walked outside completely naked? no why would anyone?

51: favourite food? italian food, french fries, honestly potatoes in all forms, ice cream, chocolate anything, things i wish i could eat right now but i cant.

52: do you believe everything happens for a reason? yes this belief is the only thing that keeps me sane sometimes when i want something so bad but cant have it

53: what is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? watched fitness and weight loss videos cause i do that every night cause im pathetic

54: is cheating ever okay? no and people keep trying to normalize it and im like???? fuck off

55: are you mean? i definitely can be

56: how many people have you fist fought? none

57: do you believe in true love? more than anything else, i guess

58: favourite weather? raining, cloudy, overcast, dark, just anything where the sun is gone

59: do you like the snow? yes, but i guess cause i live in nashville and we don’t get a lot so it’s not a hassle

60: do you wanna get married? yes so much :’( but also i dont really care about the legal part, i kinda just want a nice ceremony. i might just do the ceremony without getting married

61: is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? wouldn’t know

62: what makes you happy? being at school, listening to music, when i finally write a song that i don’t completely hate, eating

63: would you change your name? no cause i don’t hate it and i wouldn’t know what to change it to

64: would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? i don’t understand this. is there supposed to be context?

65: your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

*i just wanna say i don’t like term “opposite sex/gender” cause as we know, these things are a spectrum and there are no opposites cause theres more than two. for the sake of these questions, im gonna assume it means a guy cause im a girl but know i dont like it i’ve been in this situation and if a) they know i know/they told me, i get super uncomfortable and stop talking to them, or b) if they don’t know i know, i get super uncomfortable and try to send them a bunch of signals i only like them platonically so they’ll get the hint and never ever bring it up ever

66: do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? i have close friends of all genders so yeah

67: who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? assuming a guy again idk my dad? or one of my bosses

68: who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? can’t remember, probably one of my friends at school i don’t have many of those

69: do you believe in soulmates? yes i love that idea, i think it ties it with everything happens for a reason

70: is there anyone you would die for? i would die for any girl i just ran into on the street, god i love girls

thanks for observing this overshare 👍🏾 at least it kept me busy

#mine #tag game

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