#I had the idea of WA characters + songs and WA characters + tv tropes

[windswept-fields]

Guys now that the Wes Anderson + textpost series is done, what Wes Anderson content would y’all like to see?

Cause I am having some type of artist block

[neverinadream]

What's Your Favourite Scary Movie?

Summary: What's a better way to watch horror movies than placing a bet on who will jump first?

Pairing: Christian Pulisic x Fem!Reader

Requested: for @thoseboysinblue

Song Inspo: Black Butterflies and Déjà Vu - The Maine

Warnings: 18+, minors dni, smut, moments of fluff, best friends to lovers, mentions of the reader needing to wear glasses, soft dom!christian but also hints of sub!christian, sub!reader, dirty talk, pet names (baby, princess, good girl...), praise kink, body appreciation, nipple play, grinding, oral (female & male receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, spoilers for paranormal activity and talk to me, not edited

Notes: happy halloween whores 🫶🏻 this is a very long one that has taken way too long to write and i apologise that it is being posted later than i normally would post a fic. this idea has changed so much since it was first shared by my lovely mutual/friend. i hope you like it. feedback is always appreciated, especially for a fic as long as this

"Gossip Girl? Again?"

"Stop judging my watch list," Christian huffs, resting his arm on the back of his sofa.

There's a pattern of rom-coms and TV series he had already watched in their entirety, with a sprinkle of recommendations from yourself in there. You fought back a smile knowing he took your recommendations seriously. "Give me your right hand," you request, setting the remote on your lap. He raises his eyebrow but doesn't question it. "Just as I thought," you mumble, nodding your head as you gaze down at his hand, inspecting his palm and scanning the long length of his fingers, "you need to stop abusing this hand and get yourself a girlfriend."

"Oh-" He rips his hand back with a sigh, rolling his eyes. "My dry spell isn't as bad as yours," he makes a good point, welcoming the vanilla and sweet citrus scent that hangs around you as you shuffle closer. Your leg brushes against his and a small smile pinches on the corners of his lips, little butterflies fluttering their wings in the deepest part of his stomach. "When was the last you got laid?"

"Hopefully, this week." You go back to scanning his Netflix account, missing the bridge of his nose turning pink. "Italy is full of gorgeous men," you hum, wrapping your arm around your tummy, caging it underneath as you lean forward.

"Just put your glasses on," he sighs, watching you squint your eyes, "you're making your eyes worse doing that."

You glance over your shoulder. "When did you suddenly change your career?"

He doesn't appreciate your smart mouth, getting up off the sofa in search of them. "It's called being a caring friend," he mumbles, taking one last look at you bent over and leaning forward, before slipping out of his living room.

He hears you call out to him, something about them being in his guest room, but he's already one step ahead of you, opening the bedroom door and taking a step inside. "Don't you mean your room?" He calls back, treading over a pair of heels you had complained about wearing.

Another smile, an even bigger smile, appears as he thinks about last night. Blood stirred and heated his cheeks as he thought about the simple yet beautiful way your dress hugged your body. His skin tingled remember the smell of vanilla and how it clung to every inch of your skin, so much that it made him dizzy. And he swallows a hard breath as he recalls being at the foot of the bed, his thumbs stroking over your soft skin, before unfastening the straps and helping you out of your heels.

"Ha! Nice one!" Your voice cuts him out of the memory.

"It can still be yours!"

You were a freelance animator, recently coming off the success of a short film for some company in London that Christian couldn't remember the name of. It was a dark piece, playing heavily on the tropes of loneliness and trying to find a sense of belonging, told through the POV of a colourless character in a world full of bright colours. Definitely not for children, Christian realised the first time he watched it, wiping away a tear as the credits rolled, a beaming smile on his face as your name flashed on the screen.

It won the company an award, and added a little more attention to your name, making it easier to do the whole "freelance" part of your job description.

It was that part of your job description that Christian used in favour of you moving in with him. Back in London, you were living four streets away from him, and there wasn't a day he didn't go without seeing you. He missed that. Italy was lonely without you.

Everywhere was lonely without you.

Your glasses are sitting on top of your open sketchbook, partially lost under covers, and Christian clears away a cushion, neatly placing it against the pillows. A hedgehog wearing a mask of sorts has been sketched onto the page, with an owl wearing clown makeup sketched on another area of the page, a knife dripping with blood held in its beak. Cute little woodland animals made to look like something from a horror movie. He didn't know if he should be impressed by your talent or shudder from his own dislike of horror movies.

Both, he had decided, grabbing your glasses and leaving the room.

"No."

"What?" Your arm hovers in the air, your hand wrapped around the TV remote, with the 'Horror' section of his Netflix up on the screen. "What's the matter?" You ask, with a coy smile, knowing exactly what his grievance was. If there was one rule for any impromptu movie night, it was no horror movies allowed.

Christian's rule, of course.

You, on the other hand, loved horror movies. The blood. The gore. The old classic slashers. Movies with a budget so low they either become cult classics or a painful ninety minutes. You loved it all. You loved the suspense and the anticipation of waiting for the next jumpscare. The adrenaline that pumped through your veins every time that it happened. It left you feeling more alive than ever.

"We are not, and I can't stress this enough, watching a horror movie."

"I'm not wearing them," you distract him enough to keep flicking through the catalogue. Saw. Don't Breathe. Last Night In Soho. Halloween. You flicked over each one of them, hoping at least one of them would spike your interest. "I hate them," you mumble, ducking and turning your head away from him. He grumbles something about you being stubborn under his breath, his body partially leaning over you as he places his knee on the edge of his sofa. "I don't- Ow!" You gasp, mouth hanging open and head turned up to look at him. "You just poked me in the eye-"

"Because you wouldn't stop moving!"

You readjust your glasses, your head still turned upwards, eyes squinting up at him. "God, is that what you really look like?" He doesn't appreciate your joke, rolling his eyes as you lower your glasses. "Seriously? I should've worn these things the night we met," you continue, adding a second act, "might have thought twice about falling into bed with you."

A deep blush sets on his cheeks, reaching his ears as partial moments of that night come to the forefront of his mind. Hands tracing soft skin. Mouths coming together in feverish exchanges. Him stumbling over his words the next morning, unable to bring himself to ask you if you wanted to get breakfast, settling on remaining as "just friends."

His teammates had even joked that he had fucked his way into the friend zone.

"Give me the remote," he stretches out his hand. You pull your hand into your body, restricting his access to the remote. "You know we have one rule for a movie night: no horror movies."

"Oh, come on," you tease, biting the tip of your tongue, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smile, "it's not my fault you're a big scaredy cat."

He rolls his eyes, despite liking the mischievous glint you got in your eyes every time you saw an opportunity to tease him.

"I think I might have to start telling people your tiger tattoo is just a botched job of a sweet, little Tabby, because a real tiger definitely wouldn't shit themselves at the likes of Scary Movie." You point the remote back at the TV, flicking through a subsection of the horror genre until one of them seemed the right fit for tonight's festivities. "It's not even a horror movie. It's a parody!"

"First of all," he reaches back, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn, "I didn't shit myself." He tosses the pieces of popcorn in your direction, the sweet pieces of confection bouncing off your shoulder and your cheek. You pick it up, the tips of your fingers feeling sticky from just one touch, and throw it back at him. He bats it away from him, and you stick your tongue out at him. "It was you who kept purposely making me jump by jabbing your finger into my side."

"I always find it funny how you and I recall events so differently," you mumble, clicking the down button and flicking onto the paranormal section.

"Okay," he talks over you, reaching forward for one of the two beers sitting on his coffee table, "just stick a movie on." He pops the cap off the bottle with a low grunt, flipping it onto the coffee table. It bounces twice, hits the edge of the centrepiece, a decorative glass bowl his parents gave him as a moving away/house warming present, and flips onto the floor. "And just don't pick a super scary one," he mumbles, taking a sip, "I actually want to sleep tonight."

"Scared you're gonna get nightmares?"

"I don't get nightmares."

"No, of course you don't," you shake your head, "you're Mr Captain America! How could you let yourself get scared over something that's not even real?" He rolls his eyes, giving you a soft shove to the side with his elbow. You pluck the brown stained bottle from his hand, noticing the not so subtle way he was watching your lips as you take a sip. "Do I have something on my face?" You ask, the bridge of his nose blushing red. He turns his head away from you, mumbling something under his breath but you didn't catch it. "Sorry?" It was like poking a sleeping bear. "What did you say?"

"Come on," he mumbles, motioning his hand in the direction of his TV.

"Don't rush me," you hiss, catching your tongue between your teeth, the tip poking out from between your lips. It amused him greatly how serious you took picking the movies for movie night, but it was just one of those 'little things' that he loved about you. "You wouldn't want to be rushed whilst taking a penalty, or something."

He pulls a face. "I don't see how those two equate to being the same thing."

"I-Shut up."

You settle on an old favourite: Paranormal Activity.

It was scary enough that you knew Christian would jump a few times, but not scary enough to have him crawling into your bed in the middle of the night. A single creak could be a footstep. Pipes cooling down could be a ghost groaning. Silly tricks of his mind and all enough to scare him into your bed, with his tail tucked between his legs like a scared puppy. If you wanted that, maybe you would've picked something like The Ring or The Blair Witch Project.

"Shouldn't be too scary for you," you tease him, grinning over your shoulder.

———————

"You don't use-" Christian lifts his head from the cushion, his mouth turned down into a frown, his focus turned away from his television and now on you. You had moved to the end of his sofa, moving to give him space to stretch out, with your knees pulled up to your chest, toes wiggling as they sat over the edge. "Are you going to sit there the whole time?" He quizzes, meeting your eyes as you turned to look at him.

"Yes?" You pan down to his body stretched out on the sofa. One knee was pointed to the ceiling, his other leg stretching the length, with his foot tapping against you. It wasn't deliberate, almost like he was still checking to see if you were still there. "Where else am I meant to sit?" You fire back your own question. "For a little guy, you sure know how to take up a lot of room."

"We both know I'm not little," he replies nonchalantly.

"I don't know," you shrug, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling, "it didn't really leave a lasting impression." You giggle, his foot tapping against you deliberately this time. "But, seriously, where else am I meant to sit? On the floor?" You motion in front of you. "On you?"

He grins, teeth sinking into his bottom lip to hold back his thoughts, but you roll your eyes like you had read his mind. "Just lie with me," he mumbles, patting his hand against his chest.

"What, and crush you?"

It was now his turn to roll his eyes. "You're not going to crush me."

"I might."

"Do you see me?" He pans his hand down his body. "Do you see this? I can take my shirt off so you can better look-"

"Please don't."

He taps your leg again. "We both know you like me better when I have my shirt off," you avoid his eyes as he teases you like your eyes might deceive you and tell him he was right, "But, c'mon, I'm getting cold over here." He pouts, eyes looking rounder as he tries his best at 'puppy dog eyes.' He grabs at the air. "Please?!"

"You're actually the worst," you mumble, giving in to him, "the worst of the worst." Your bodies become a tangled mess, legs wedged between each other, his thigh half-straddled as you rest your head on his chest. His hand travels down your back, his fingers skimming along the band of skin exposed above your jeans. "Also, I call total bullshit on 'getting cold'," you add, unconsciously tucking your hand under his shirt. Your touch makes his skin tingle.

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows, looking down his nose. "Why's that?"

"Because you're perpetually warm."

Christian's attention flickers back and forth between you and the movie, pressing his fingers harder into your skin whenever Katie screams Micah's name, which you didn't mind, even though it would happen a lot. When he wasn't subtly trying to hide the jumping, he was glancing down at you, focusing on the steady and relaxed movement of your breathing. He would half-smile at the way you mumble your reactions under your breath, humming a simple "yes" or "okay" to acknowledge them.

He takes in a deep pull of your scent, closing his eyes as he lets the smell of honey and vanilla wash over him. Everything about you could make him dizzy. From your laugh to your smile. To the way you would always cut your sandwiches into four small squares because it made you think of the nostalgia of the school lunches your mum would make you. But nothing was like that honey and vanilla aroma that managed to stick to you like a second layer of skin.

"You better not be falling asleep, mister!" He grunts as you pinch his hip, his eyes snapping open at the sound of your voice. "I didn't lie down with you just so you could take a nap," you prop your chin against his chest.

"Then why did you?"

"Like I already said, you're always warm, and your apartment is freezing!"

Our apartment, he thinks to himself, knowing he'll bring the question up once more before you have to leave. "It's not cold," he says instead, tucking his free arm underneath his head, "and I wasn't falling asleep."

You raise your brows. "Yeah? Then what just happened?"

"He's just shown her the quija board and you just commented on them being stupid for using one." Your eyesbrows drop and the corners of his mouth twitch. "See," he gloats, giving the small of your back a soft pinch, "I wasn't falling asleep."

You chew your bottom lip. "I am right though, you should never use a quija board."

"No?"

"No!" You shake your head. "You don't know who you could be communicating with, or what you could be inviting in!" He smiles, making you squint your eyes and frown up at him. "What's that smile for?"

"You've thought about this before, haven't you?"

You turn your head down, mumbling your answer into his chest, using it to hide the embarrassment in your voice. Yes, you had thought about it. You had thought about it multiple times and every time you watched a movie where one would be used to contact the vengeful spirit haunting the unsuspecting couple, but it's the last thing you would admit it to Christian. It would just be another thing for him to tease you with.

"Sorry," he laughs, his whole chest shaking, "what was that?"

"I said I'm putting another movie on," you lie. He bites his tongue to stop the soft groan that nearly slips out when you straddle his waist, silently praying that his body can stay calm for all of two seconds. "This is getting boring," you stretch across and grab the remote, "I want something proper on."

He lets his hands travel down from your hips and onto your thighs, drumming his fingers against the dark denim. "This is something proper."

"Babe, this is two tropes away from being a parody!"

Babe. It makes his heart beat twice as fast. He clears his throat, doing his best attempt at dislodging the feeling from his chest. "There's not much left," he mumbles, lifting one hand away and following yours until it's out of his reach. He chuckles, the soft sound growing a little louder as you beam down at him with a triumphant smile. "Just leave this one on."

"Or," you press pause, silencing the screams, "we could have some fun."

"Fun?" His throat bops. "You and I have very definitions of what fun is." Your lips twitch. "And I don't like that smile."

"You shouldn't," you giggle, letting your weight sink further onto him, your core pressed firmly against his crotch. The not-so-subtle way his mouth parts on a slight groan makes your stomach flutter. For a second, you slip back into the memory of his hands grabbing at your hips and guiding them, as he threw his head back into his pillow, groaning your name which back then was foreign to his tongue. "Let's make a bet," you snap back to reality, "the first person to jump has to go down on the other person."

He mules it over for a second, a deep blush forming on his cheeks and spreading to his ears. "But what if neither of us jumps?" He asks, keeping his focus on something that isn't the movement of your hips as you shift above him.

"Then no gets to come today."

"You mean: you don't get to come today," he fires back, "you don't know what I was doing this morning."

"So, that's why I heard my name coming from your bathroom?" You throw him a wink. "Don't worry, I've basically nicknamed my vibrator CP." He rolls his eyes and mumbles a soft 'ha, ha' under his breath. If your current position wasn't already bad enough for him, then hearing about you using a vibrator on yourself was nearly tipping him over the edge. "So, do we have a deal?" You raise your eyesbrows.

He shrugs his shoulders. "Why not?" His tongue darts across his bottom lip, looking at you like you might be his last meal. "I've been looking for an excuse to eat your pussy again."

———————

Christian frowns. "I don't get it." You lift your head from the comfort of his shoulder, unable to hide a half-smile when you catch sight of the crease in his brow and the slight way his bottom lip would pout. Flashes of confusion fill his eyes. "She was the one sucking on his toes?"

"Yep."

"But she thought it was that...other thing?"

"Yep."

He sighs, running his hand down his face. "This is so confusing."

You prop your hand under your chin, using your free hand to poke his cheek. He bats your finger away, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. "You're very pretty," you mumble, bringing your finger back against his cheek, touching the constellation of freckles that reside on his face. They were his prettiest features, after his eyes of course. "How are you single?"

"Me?" He slides his hand down your back, bunching up the fabric as he reaches the small of your back. His touch is warm and it makes you shiver. "What about you?" He counters, tucking his head down. His nose brushed against your temple, and you could smell the faint smell of beer and toothpaste on his breath. "You're a lot prettier than me."

"I go on dates," you shrug, finger drifting down to his bottom lip. It was soft and light shade of pink. And very, very kissable.

"You do?" His body tenses and the jealousy he feels churns in the pit of his stomach. "Oh..."

You wish you could say that your dating life was a story of success and one that involved you finding true love but, unfortunately, that just wasn't the case. The apps were full of guys looking for a night of easy sex or carrying bouquets of red flags. And the dates you were set up with either talked only about themselves, were hung up on their exes, or talked about their mothers at an alarming rate.

Oh, and none of them were Christian.

"But clearly none of them have worked out for me," you sigh, removing your hand and settling your head back down on his shoulder. His body relaxes, pulling you firmly against him. "It doesn't matter though, I don't need them," you mumble, breathing in the smell of the cologne that stuck to his skin. After being apart from him, you had come to realise that it smelt like home. "I've got you."

"For now and always."

For now and always.

It was your thing, you could say, a promise that neither would be alone.

You first said after Christian suffered one of his first injuries whilst at Chelsea. His stubborn ass had ignored your messages after the injury occurred, a part of him, he supposed, didn't want you to see him like that, but your ass was just as equally stubborn as his and you didn't take his silence as a final answer. You were there for his recovery every step of the way, and for every disruption that came afterwards, repeating the words: 'for now and always.'

You sit up on your elbow. "Christian?" He hums but doesn't look at you. "Chris..."

"What's u-" You silence him, pressing your lips against his, moaning softly into his mouth when you feel him kiss back. "Uh," he pulls back, touching his hand to your face, his fingers softly stroking your jaw, "hi-uh, what?" He nervously laughs, the tips of his ears turning red. "W-W-What was that for?"

"I don't know." You shrug, touching your hand to your mouth. "I'm sorry."

His eyes widen. "What? No! Don't apologise for kissing me. I liked it."

"You did?"

"Should that even be a question?" He scoffs, smiling at you. His thumb brushes gently across your cheek, the softness of your skin shooting goosebumps up his arm. "Of course, I liked it. Why wouldn't I have liked it?" His gaze lingers on your mouth. "Come closer and kiss me again, please?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely..."

It's with a smile on both of your lips that you lean in and press your mouth to his. His lips are soft and willing, parting to welcome you as you run your tongue against his bottom lip. At every groan he made, you would whimper, and Christian would swallow each of the sweet little sounds. They were his to keep. They were his to remember when you left at the end of the week.

His hand grabs your thigh and pulls you to straddle him, rutting his hips up as you settle on him. "Feel that?" He grabs your ass, squeezing firmly as he pushes you down onto his bulge. You grind your hips against him, your movements slow and torturous. "That's it, baby," he bites his bottom lip, groaning your praise and grabbing your ass in both hands, "keep grinding like that for me - make us both feel good."

Your lips roam his jaw and neck, imprinting your whimpers into his skin. "I guess the bets off then?" Your laugh is sultry and yet still sweet.

"Bet or no bet, I would still love to eat your pussy," he purrs, flipping you onto your back, "can I take this off?" He fingers toy with the hem of your shirt.

"Only if you're taking yours off."

You prop yourself up onto your elbows, watching him sit back on his knees. He grabs the back of his collar and removes his T-shirt with one sharp tug. "Beautiful," you whisper, letting your hands roam freely over his chest. They start at the waistband of his jeans, your fingers stroking over the soft trail of hair, before travelling over his naval and feeling every muscle.

Christian was right; you did like him better with no shirt on.

Your eyes pan back down to the bulge in his jeans. "Can I taste you?" You ask, looking back up at him as his hand nestles firmly on the base of your skull.

"Go ahead," he nods, with excitement in his voice, "take it out."

Your eyes shimmer with anticipation as you take a better look at the tent in his boxers, his jeans pulled low enough down. Peeling back the waistband, his cock springs free, slapping hard and heavy against his stomach. He was big, bigger than you had remembered, and your face grows hotter as you try to think of a way to fit him all into your mouth.

"It'll fit," Christian says like he could read your mind, "trust me." He wraps his hand around the base, pushing the tip gently against your mouth. "Give it a kiss." You pucker your lips and lay a soft one against the crown of his cock, tasting the pre-cum as you pull away and lick your lips. "Now open your mouth," he instructs, gliding it against your wet tongue, "already being such a good girl for me."

You swirl your tongue over the head, smacking your lips as you pull off him. "Definitely the prettiest dick I've ever had the pleasure of sucking," you tell him, replacing his hand around the base.

"Sucked many dicks?" His face quickly drops. "Don't answer that."

You run your tongue against the underside of his shaft. "Not in a long time," you answer anyway, giggling as he scowls.

You wrap your lips once more around his cock, focusing on the tip, sucking it lazily in and out of your mouth, as your hand worked the base. "Fuck, that feels good," he pants, hanging his head back, exposing the column of his neck and the beard that scattered the underside of his jaw to you. "But I'm gonna have to make you stop."

"What?" You pull off him, a string of spit still connecting you. "Why?"

"Because it's been way too long, longer than I would like to admit since I was last with someone, and if you keep sucking me off like that, this is going to end quicker than it started."

You wipe your mouth. "Oh."

"Yeah," he blushes, tucking himself back into his boxers. He tugs his jeans up but leaves them unbuttoned. "Now," he clears his throat, "wanna help me take your clothes off?"

———————

"Fucking gorgeous!" Christian touch sears your skin, burning his prints into you as he grips your thighs. You pinned to his mattress, with nowhere to go, looking down at a pair of hungry eyes. His tongue splits your folds and draws a line between your entrance and your clit. "This pussy has been a part of my dreams for years," he confesses, turning his head, kissing the inside of your thigh, "god, I think about it-think about you when I'm touching myself."

Your lips part on a silent breath. "You do?"

"Every time, baby." He blows hot hair against your clit, grinning as your squirm. "Every. Single. Damn. Time."

"Good," you giggle, cupping your breast and tweaking your nipple, "because I wasn't lying about nicknaming my vibrator CP."

His cock strains in his jeans at your words. "Don't say that," he growls, rutting his hips into the mattress, "not unless you want to be cleaning the cum off my cock."

You prop yourself up, looking down at him between your thighs. "Sounds tasty," you throw back, licking your lips.

His lips twitch. "Speaking of tasty..." He drags his tongue back and forth along your slit, groaning as your wetness pools in his mouth. You were intoxicating. A drug for him to get high off. "Tastiest thing I've ever eaten, baby," his praise has you throwing your head back into the pillow, "and the prettiest, too."

"Oh, my..."

He pushes the air out of your lungs, stretching you out as he slowly works two fingers into your pussy. They twist and curl up to stroke your g-spot, and you feel him grin against your clit when he wrangles out a pornographic moan. No one had made you feel this good. Not in a very long time.

"Christian," you pant his name, pushing your hips up. He groans, flicking his tongue faster over your clit.

He was playing like an instrument and eating you like were his last meal.

"So fucking tight," he licks his lips, tasting you on him. He twists and scissors his fingers, stretching you some more. "And wet, baby," he purrs, rotating his thumb in circles over your clit. His honey-dipped eyes look up at you, roaming every part of your naked figured. "If you could see the mess you're making - just dripping everywhere."

"I want you to look at me like that all the time," you stare down at him.

"I do." He kneels between your legs, dipping to kiss over the tops of your breasts, the dip at the base of your neck and then your lips. "I look at you like this all the time, baby," he presses his thumb harder to your clit, making you squirm, "I've just gotten good at hiding it." He crashes his mouth against yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste your arousal off his tongue. "I'm gonna grab a condom."

You stop him as he reaches into his bedside cabinet. "I'm on the pill."

"You sure?"

"Yes," you answer, kissing over his stubbled jaw, nipping playfully at his ear, "now lose those jeans, pretty boy." He raises his eyebrows, the corners of his lips curving up with amusement. You give a sharp tug on his belt loop. "I said lose the jeans."

He chuckles, pushing to stand up. "What is this?" He pulls his jeans down, kicking them off as they reach his feet. You bite your lip, eyes zoning in on his cock bulging in his underwear. They were removed next, a smirk gracing his lips. He wraps his hand around his shaft, jerking his wrist a few times, wincing a little when he squeezes the tip. "Think you're in charge here?"

"Maybe."

He shakes his head, brushing his lips against your temple. "That's very cute." He kneels between your legs, tapping his tip against your clit, chuckling as you whimper. There was nothing worse than being teased. "But that's not happening, baby."

He slips the first few inches inside, watching your pussy swallow and clench around him. He waits, giving himself a second to adjust. "Just remember it's been a while, okay?" His cheeks blush, spreading down his neck onto his chest. "Don't be teasing me if I end up coming too quickly."

"Hey, look at me." You reach out to touch his face, your fingers brushing over his jaw. He leans into your touch. "We're in the same boat, remember?"

"But what about all those dates you've been on?"

You shake your head. "The last guy I had sex with was Kal." Sliding your hand between your bodies, you sink the last few inches inside. The feeling of fullness has you losing your breath, but you find it again when Christian leans over to kiss you. "Forget about the timestamp on your last time, and stop worrying about blowing your load too quickly," you talk against his mouth, soothing your hands over his chest, "just be here with me, okay?"

He nods, biting his bottom lip. "I can do that." His head dips and kisses the centre of your chest, hands exploring your thighs and the globes of your ass as he ruts into you. "Fuck," his voice is strained, "you feel...you feel perfect, like you just for me."

"Yes," you whimper, your heart aching as the words hit your ears, "just for you."

He nuzzles his stubble into your cheek. "Say it again."

"Just for you," you repeat, now grinding your hips up to meet each thrust, "just for you." You pull his head up and crash your lips together, exchanging a kiss like it could been your last. Never had you imagined this is where you would be when you got on the plane four days ago. "You," you managed to make out through a moan, breaking apart, nuzzling your face against his cheek.

He chokes your name on a sob, "I'm not gonna last must longer."

"Let go, Christian," you wrap your legs around his waist, and run your nails down his back, scratching lightly at the muscles that strained, "come for me, baby."

"Inside you?" His rhythm is sloppy and you have to keep grinding against him. "Can I come inside you?" He grabs your hips and clamps them against him, moaning into your shoulder as his whole body shakes above you. "Oh, god," he whines, his cock twitching and pulsing, "I'm coming-I'm..."

Silence.

For the next few seconds, Christian is silently mouthing your name against his skin.

You soothe your hands through his hair as he finishes inside you, letting your hands roam over his shoulders and down his back. "You okay?" You whisper, tucking your head to brush a kiss to the side of his head. "Christian?"

"I think I just had an out-of-body experience," he answers, audibly groaning as he pulls out. You giggle, tiredly rolling onto your front, moving with him as he collapses next to you. His arm comes up over his face, hiding his eyes, before ripping away to look at you. He looked worried like he was realising he had done something wrong. "You didn't come?"

You shrug, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's fine." Which it was.

"No, it's not." He tries to sit up but crashes back onto the mattress. "When I have recovered, you are coming," he declares, pulling the pillow over his face. His voice is muffled as he adds, "we are not leaving this bed until I've made you come."

———————

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[kuuxkat]

[EN]Lisani Vol. 27.1 Interview with Pile

Translated by: @kuuxkat / Additional TL from: tenno

Typeset by: @kuuxkat / QC by: @yujachachacha @ #teamonibe

Originally TL by:  端木靖雨_Forever

Sourced from: 端木靖雨_Forever

Images from: @emitsunosaurus-rex

DO NOT USE THE SUBS FOR COMMERCIAL PURPOSES!

Contents under the Cut!

Typeset images can be found: here

“Being together with Maki who has grown as a school idol, I feel that I too have gained growth.” I really feel joyous that we are able to properly express “It is ending for a while”. Q: It has been around half a year since “μ’s Final LoveLive”; Pile-san, did you have an opportunity to look back on the six years of μ’s? Pile: Actually, I haven’t even finished watching the BD (laughs). As expected, because it was a huge live, I feel that I couldn’t just skim through it. But recently, when I went to Tokyo Dome to watch a live, I thought: “I think I stood at that part of the stage before, right?” At that time at the dome, I felt that, “To think that it is such a vast stage, but unexpectedly you could see all corners of it clearly”, and I was able to clearly capture all the audience’s gazes. Q: Being there again would result in the resurgence of the reality that you did perform at the dome, right? Pile: That was indeed the case. Although I thought, “If the stage got bigger, the distance with everyone would be further”, once I was sitting in the audience seat myself, unexpectedly there doesn't seem to be any sense of being distant. When I was there, I recalled and thought, “Everyone was looking at us in this way, huh?”. Q: Before performing in person at the Dome, what were your impressions about the name “Tokyo Dome”? Q: With regards to the fact that I would be performing at the Dome, I actually didn’t have any special attachments to it. But, after looking at the sight of all the audience members filling up the entire dome, I thought: “To be able to gather such an audience, we seemed to have come to a very amazing place, right?” Q: When the Live was in progress, did the fact that you were able to look at the audience while performing cause your inner thoughts to be calmer instead? Pile: Indeed. But no matter what I did, I had to remember where I needed to move next after each step. For a stage with such a large breadth, you could never salvage the situation the moment you went in the wrong direction (laughs). So we took photos of the stage prior to this, and we put in our full effort to confirm the steps. Q: Considering the extent of the stage, it would not do if you did not pay attention and follow the guiding lines, right? Pile: That was the case. But as we had years of experience with lives, I did not feel it was that hard to memorize new content. While trying my best to show my performance to every nook and cranny of the stage for everyone, at the same time I wanted to see everyone who was in the audience. Especially when I was riding the gondola, I was very happy to be able to see everyone in the audience. In the BiBi performance, I even went up a very high platform (laughs). Q: It is really a performance that starts from top to bottom, left to right, and with many different angles, yes? Pile: Yep. To all the audience members in the mikire seats too, when we came down from the stage and were passing by those seats, the members all turned off their microphones and shouted, “Please enjoy yourself!” and the like. So I also thought to myself, “Mikire seats are really VIP seats, huh?” (TL note: Mikire seats are seats that are visible in the BD footage.) Q: Being on stage for the two days, did the reality of this being the final chapter, this “Final Live”, gradually rear its head too? Pile: It didn't, I was still very calm. It was exactly because I realized, “This might be the last time I am performing with everyone,” that I could retain the calmness to consider the fact that “I should strive more for excellence”. I could say that I pulled off all the dance moves without any errors, too. Q: At the final moments of Day 2, after completing the performance of “Bokutachi wa Hitotsu no Hikari”, were there any emotions and thoughts which bubbled up as you slowly descended down the stage while looking at the audience? Pile: Hmm... perhaps it's because I was still in an excited state, but rather than having clear thoughts, it was a “Aah... it's over, huh...” kind of feeling. I mean, I believe that being able to properly convey to everyone that “it's ending for a while” in that manner is something really wonderful. Q: Indeed, as it is something that was accomplished and completed in its greatest state by completely adhering to its values all the way until the end. Pile: That is right. And after it ended, I felt, “Adrenaline really is amazing”. As to why I thought that, it is because the day after Day 2 had ended, the bottom half of my body suffered from muscle aches to a terrific degree (laughs). Before then, there seemed to be nothing wrong, but suddenly it hurt so much to the extent that I couldn’t even walk. So I spent the entire second day sleeping at home, and in the end the muscle aches took the better part of around 2 weeks to completely subside (laughs).

Although she appears to have an aloof existence, in reality she is very pure.

Q: So next up, let’s ask about things that happened a significantly longer time ago. Firstly, do you remember what your initial impression of Maki was? Pile: Initially, my impression of her was of, “This child has tsurime, huh?” At that time, I was in a situation where I had no idea what kind of child she was. (TL Note: Pile is referring to 'tsurime', a trope in manga/anime where characters with slanted eyes are typically tsunderes and/or have an arrogant disposition.) Q: In this period where you walked forward together with Maki, did you ever feel that there were similarities between the two of you? Pile: I have always been the type to not form relationships with the people around me. But after becoming friends and opening my heart to them, I would hold things that were related to them close to my heart and think of them as precious to me. I believe that in that way, we are similar. I'm a very shy person, but when someone approaches me, I'll also step up and do the same. I think that part of our personality is also similar. Q: These parts were actually shown in the process where Maki joined μ’s. She went from an aloof existence, to a comrade of the other eight individuals. Pile: That is so. Although she does look very aloof, in reality she is very “pure” (laughs). I really do empathize very much with the situation where it feels like, “Although it does seems like I was being dragged into this, I am actually overjoyed that it turned out this way.” Q: With regards to the TV anime, do you still remember the time when you did the initial recordings? Pile: I do still remember. As it was my first ever recording, and due to how shy I am, I couldn’t ask how could it be done better. I overheard someone from the side saying that there would be someone who would be coming to instruct us. So my thoughts were along the line of, “I see…” and I mimicked how the rest did it to finish the recording (laughs). And along the way, I slowly began asking questions on my own as well. I too gained many experiences that I am able to make use of in the future... being together with Maki who has grown as a school idol, I feel that I too have gained growth. Q: With regards to recording for Maki, do you have any particularly memorable recollections? Pile: Actually... there wasn’t any incident where I had difficulty during recordings. Simply by imagining, “Maki is singing this song with these emotions, huh?”, I would be able to decide clearly on how to proceed. I think I was able to do this from the time where I did “Natsuiro Egao de 1,2,Jump!” and in BiBi’s first single. Q: That might be so, as from then on it felt like Maki’s voice became a particularly colorful addition among the nine members, and the songs that could properly showcase Maki’s voice are very exciting. Pile: Indeed. “Wonderful Rush” is one of them, it has the feel of: “With the naturally talented voice of Maki; no matter how high the song is, she could still manage it”. Q: Among all the many songs, could you bring up a few that left Pile-san with the deepest impression? Pile: There really are a lot, aren’t there? … It should be the piano version of “START:DASH!!” that was shown in Episode 2 of TV anime Season 1. Although it was only included in a CD after the release of the single, the recording job was done significantly earlier than for the single. In a certain way, what I used during my performance was a straightforward singing method that invoked the feel of inelegant indifference. I feel that moment shown was a vividly different side of Maki. Q: In the year 2012, what were your initial thoughts when you heard that μ’s First Live was going to be held? Pile: I went: “...are we going to do it?” (laughs). I vaguely remember thinking that, “It’s about time for us to do so, right?” But at that time, the decision to animate the series hadn’t been finalized yet. As the development of the story went hand in hand with the CD and magazines, I wondered in high spirits, “How many individuals would come to our live and from which medium?” Q: But in reality, this project started to flourish with an astonishing rate starting from 1st Live, right? Pile: That’s right, I was very happy too! Even as the TV anime was being broadcasted, everyone’s reactions would be conveyed to us, but if it was a live, couldn’t we experience the reactions directly onsite? So, as expected I felt that this was really an interesting idea.

The days that we went through akin to that of a hurricane have became unparalleled memories. Q: From then on the scale of the stage would gradually become bigger; does Pile-san have any moments that left particularly deep impressions? Pile: There are countless ones in μ’s solo live...but in reality, the opportunities for μ’s to stand on the stage of the Nippon Budokan was only limited to that one time while performing for “LisAni! LIVE”. At that time, the outfit and shoes used were those from the initial design, and besides that we were accompanied by a live band, so it left a very deep impression. Q: Ever since the movie was released, the popularity level of the project would naturally rocket straight up, and as the days went by there really seemed to be more avenues where you would be able to admire the active and lively μ’s. Pile: Indeed, it was akin to a torrent of activities - from Music Station to Kōhaku Uta Gassen, everyone was able to appear on many TV programs. It is thanks to those program that the time everyone was able to take part in activities together also greatly increased, I feel that it was so to give birth to innumerable amounts of memories for Final Live. Yes, I do feel that those memories are unparalleled. Q: Indeed, you even toured the country through the fan meetings too. Pile: I feel that year was the year where μ’s used up all the stored energy and charm from before and displayed it to everyone in one go, in many different avenues. As the activities would be coming to an end in a while, the momentum was akin to that of a hurricane. I feel that it was great, too. Q: But because of the various preparatory work needed for the performance at the Dome, did it become even busier? Pile: That was so, there were many things that needed to be done. Just for the rehearsals for “Bokutachi wa Hitotsu no Hikari”, to be able to understand what it would be like to stand in the middle of lilies, we went to Chiba. Q: Ehh, just for that? PIle: Yep. The actual stage was just too spacious, as during rehearsals, the large props would not be set up. So just to confirm the setup, we went to another practice site; we did all of this to prepare for the day where we would be taking on the stage at the Dome. Q: While doing the preparatory work for Final Live, I think there were other jobs, like the recording for the final single “MOMENT RING”, right? Pile: Indeed there were. When I heard the rap portion for the first time, it left me with very deep impressions. I thought: “As expected, we would end with a candid song that was μ’s to the core, huh?”. In reality, this song did not resonate with me at the start. But in the process of listening to it repeatedly for the Live, I gradually came to like it and felt, “Isn’t this a good song!” When I performed this at the Live, I experienced the same feelings. And at the end, when everyone posed as the characters they performed as, it was also very breathtaking. It was extremely moving to have the first few dance teachers for μ’s be instructing us for the dance steps at the final live... So for me, I really like the dance steps for this song. Q: After working hard and charging forward as a part of µ’s during these past six years, what is your mental state now? Pile: Mm... Well, nothing has changed. I guess the other members feel the same way, since we are not just μ’s after all. It is not as if we debuted as μ’s, performed until now and then disbanded. But rather, it is a case of, “To be able to end properly as μ’s is great! From now on let's continue working hard!” as well as the mentality of, “A very important job has ended.” The self-awareness that you would have when you stands as yourself on a stage that you have stood on as part of μ’s is very interesting, too. For example, in last year's Animelo Summer Live, the day after μ’s performed, I performed too under my own name. I had the thoughts of: “I was so carefree yesterday...and today I am so nervous instead” (laughs). From this, I can say that the me that is part of μ’s and the usual me are different existences? Q: If you were to say something to Maki, what would you like to say to her? Pile: Yes, while… although at the start I did not think we would be compatible, in the end, I still formed the greatest duo with Maki-chan. And it allowed me to go through many different kind of experiences, so I really feel “very thankful”. Q: And finally please say something to the readers and the fans of μ’s. Pile” In this past six years, at the start we only held activities near the Kansai region; following that, we gradually started to host activities nationwide, and eventually we managed to garner love worldwide. For me to be a member of the μ’s that everyone loves, I really have to thank everyone who has always supported Maki-chan, the staff, and a large variety of individuals. And thus, the story that was realized with everyone from the very beginning until the very end would definitely never fade away. So from now on, if you could continue loving “Love Live!” and μ’s, I would be very happy. And with regards to μ’s, from now on I will continue to be in your favor. The story that was realized with everyone from the very beginning until the very end would definitely never fade away.