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#okay this got away from me but I’m making myself post it anyway because i love kendra and want to keep talking about her
thechosenthree · 4 months
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I am back with more Kendra haunting the narrative thoughts after watching Helpless.
This episode is all about slayers and tradition, it’s about the Watcher’s Council treating the slayers as expendable and disposable. Giles says “It's a test, Buffy. It's given to The Slayer once she— if she reaches her eighteenth birthday.”
This episode is about Kendra.
Even though the episode refuses to say her name, Kendra Young is everywhere! Not even a full season before this episode aired, we were shown— for the first time but far from the last— the tragedy of a slayer dying too young in the line of duty, another slayer rising from her grave and then her being seemingly forgotten about.
The show tries to forget Kendra the same way the council does. I’ve already talked in the post I linked above, about how Faith’s existence ensures that we don’t. But it’s more than that!! The tragedy of the slayers and what Buffy and Faith go through, the entire premise of the show, continues to remind the audience of the slayer who didn’t make it as far as them.
Buffy is going through an identity crisis this episode, she has lost her slayer powers and she doesn’t know why. Giles is in no big rush to figure it out, he doesn’t actually seem all that concerned, and Buffy grows increasingly adrift. She realizes she doesn’t know who she is if she’s not The Slayer.
She’s very aware of who she was before. She brings up Cordelia to make this comparison— her ex shadow self who is a representation of her childhood, of the Buffy she was before she was “Buffy, The Vampire Slayer”— and she seems ashamed of who she was then.
She doesn’t want to go back to being that person. She literally CAN’T go back, and she knows that. She has been changed by her experiences, even without her slayer powers, she is a different person than she was. Buffy says “I’ve seen too much. I know what goes bump in the night. Not being able to fight it— what if I just hide under my bed, all scared and helpless?”
She can’t return to the naïveté of the life she lived before she knew what was out there. I mean, she already tried that!! Buffy spent much of s1 trying to hold on to who she used to be, not wanting to let it go, not wanting to acknowledge that that girl and that life were already gone. Her death in Prophecy Girl goes hand in hand with her accepting that she can’t outrun her destiny, she can’t NOT be The Slayer.
Much of s2 was about accepting that being the slayer was a part of her life now. But Buffy continued to treat it like it was a job, one that had been chosen for her and that she’d accepted she needed to do, but a job nonetheless. She was at war with these two sides of herself, unable to see how they could possibly fit. Kendra played a big part in helping her along that journey. “You talk about slaying like it's a job. It's not. It's who you are,” Kendra tells her in What’s My Line.
Kendra who identified as “The Vampire Slayer” before identifying as Kendra. Kendra who never had a childhood or the chance to try and figure out who she was as a person. She was a weapon and a tool forged, used and discarded by the council (and the show). Being the slayer was not only who Kendra was, it was all she was allowed to be.
I can’t imagine the writers were unaware that writing an episode like this would remind people of Kendra. After all that same Buffy speech I quoted earlier includes the first mention of Kendra’s stake since it’s introduction in Becoming. “… Or what if I just become pathetic? Hanging out at the old slayer’s home, talking people’s ears off about my glory days. Showing them Mr. Pointy, the stake I had bronzed.”
Buffy is able to imagine living long enough to grow old IF she doesn’t have her powers. That isn’t the life of a slayer and she knows that, has seen the consequences of this life first hand. She herself has already died young, and a year later she watched her friend die. She goes from being unable to imagine any kind of future at all for herself to spiraling about the possible reality of a powerless one.
Buffy talks about all this while name dropping the stake a 17 year old slayer gave her just before her death… A slayer who didn’t even live long enough to be forced to endure this cruel test.
Reminding the audience of Kendra seems intentional. Which makes them refusing to say her name even more infuriating.
But she IS there, whether truly intentional or not, the show continues to remind me of her. She’s nowhere and everywhere all at once.
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
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kiss it better
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in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you
18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D
“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”
Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 
“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”
You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 
“This is pretty good.”
“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 
When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…
He’s just so alarmed?
“Honey, your knee.”
“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”
The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 
“What did you do?”
You snort. 
“What did you do, Spencer?”
It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 
“What do you mean? I did something?”
“Babe.”
The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 
“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”
Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 
“Oh.”
God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 
“What’s wrong?”
The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 
“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”
His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 
“No. My iron levels are optimal.”
Naturally. 
“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”
“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”
Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”
“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”
“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”
At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 
“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 
“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”
You laugh. 
“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”
“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”
“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”
He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 
“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”
“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 
“Never.”
You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 
“You could kiss them better.”
Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 
“I might just do that.”
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buckybarnesisdaddy · 5 months
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Meet Cute
Summary: You stumble upon a pottery TikTok account and the creator is super hot. When you win his contest for a custom piece, well sparks start to fly.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Warning: Sexual innuendos, Smut (Oral, PiV), talks of fighting as kids, talks of alcohol use and being drunk. No protection sex (but it’s okay, they talk about it.) Minors DNI
Idea came from this post
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
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Another Friday night with nothing better to do than sit on your phone scrolling Instagram while a forgotten movie plays in the background. You really should be writing, you have a deadline coming up soon but you just can’t bring yourself to write about romance and love. You can hear Natasha saying goodbye to her date on the doorstep, and she has been for the last 20 minutes. Finally Natasha comes stumbling in, face flushed and giggling away, which is odd because Natasha never giggles. “So I take it the date went well?” You ask from your perch on the couch, covered in blankets and a bowl of popcorn cooled on the seat next to you.
“If you must know, yes!!” She gushes and runs over to sit beside you. “He is so sweet and such a gentleman-”
“What he as doing to you out there didn’t sound too ‘gentleman like.’ In fact it sounds down right scandalous.” You tease and Natasha rolls her eyes and gives you a playful shove.
“He was an absolute gentleman,” she doubles down before she blushes and admits, “well that was till I said all the right words and had him ready to eat me alive.” Natasha laughs as you pretend to retch. “Oh hush! If you ever got off this couch you’d have a line of men waiting to take you out and begging for you to talk dirty to them.” Natasha winks, you can feel the heat rise in your cheeks and you sink further down into the couch.
“I have Bridgerton, and my own fictional men that I write, I don’t need a man.” You shoot back at her slightly insulting but meant in good fun jab at your non-existent dating life. “Anyway, where did you meet this guy again?” Natasha picks up a handful of popcorn before she realizes it’s cold. She wrinkles her nose but commits anyway to eating it.
“Tiktok!” Natasha answers over a mouthful. A loud laugh escapes for you and she gives you another play shove before taking the popcorn for herself. “We talked a lot online before we met up. He’s great, in fact i have made lots of friends from TikTok! You should give it a try!” Abruptly standing up and shaking your head, you walk to the kitchen to retrieve a drink.
“No way, I know myself and I’d end up sucked Down the rabbit hole and I’d never get anything done. And for the sake of my job, I can’t have that.” Natasha sighs a unmutes the tv.
“What a waste of a good ass and ‘I'll beg for it eyes’.” Natasha teases and you can’t help but laugh again as you enter the room with your water and a drink for Natasha.
“What kind of videos did you think A) I would be watching and B) potentially making?!” Sitting down next to her giving her a hard stare. Natasha stares straight ahead, purposely not meeting your gaze as she shrugs.
“Anything you wanted, Bunny.” She looks over and winks, using the old nickname you got back in college after too many drinks and a spin on a pogo stick.
“Wow you must really be worried about my good ass and ‘beg for it’s eyes’ going to waste if you’re baiting me with that name!” You lean back and prop your feet up on the coffee table. Natasha leans her head over and eats it on yours.
“All I’m saying is the first step in dating is getting yourself out there. Why not start with a stupid video app? Connect with others from the safety of a screen, and see where it goes.” She smiles and gives your hand a squeeze before she yawns and stands again. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need a shower,” she blushes, “My man got me pretty worked up.” She winks and dashes off. You shake your head and just laugh as you turn back to your movie. That night you toss and turn, unable to sleep. You can’t stop thinking about what Natasha said. Maybe it would be fun, it’s not the pressure of a dating app and you can give out as much information as you are willing to. What could go wrong? Knowing Natasha is still awake as you quickly send her a text.
‘Fine… make me a page but keep it generic.’ About as soon as you put your phone down it dings. You pick it up to find multiple messages from Natasha. ‘Yay! I already did! Here is the login! Have fun!! 😉’
**********************************************
Bucky is setting up in his garage studio when he hears the bike rev outside and then turn off. Steve walks in and lays his helmet down on one of his work tables.
“So? How did the date go?” Bucky asks as he sets down a bucket of water next to his wheel and sets a sponge out next to the bucket. Steve leans against the table and grabs a chunk of modeling clay. He starts to knead it in his hands, treating it like a stress ball as he smiles.
“Honestly? Amazing! I mean, really Buck. She’s great!” Bucky laughs to himself and nods. “You know you’re never gonna find a women unless you actually get out there and try to date.” Steve teases and Bucky just throws a rag at him.
“Yeah yeah, hand me that clay and let me get paid, okay?!” Bucky jokes and Steve tosses him the clay. He slaps it down on the wheel and Steve laughs.
“See, that right there would have women lining up and down the street for you!” Steve turning Bucky’s harmless actions of slapping his clay into sexual jokes and Bucky returning the favor is something Bucky hopes they never outgrown.
“Yeah, and the boys would be lining up to have you handle their wood, we’d be making bank if we started charging.” Steve laughs and shoves Bucky.
“Woodworking is a noble hobby.” Steve rebuts.
“Noble and as old at time!” Bucky had the last say. “Now, shut up and press live for me.” Bucky smiles and Steve pretends to be annoyed as he does what was asked.
**********************************************
You want to be upset that she did it before you gave her permission, but you know she means well. Your last relationship did not end well and you haven’t dated since, honestly you’ve been sacred to. Natasha just wants to see you happy. You download the app and use the login information Natasha sent you. Apparently she’s been following people for you and set up the whole account. She was nice enough to not include a picture of you, instead she added the generic pictures everyone can choose from when they start a profile. She put that your name is ‘Bunny’, you she’s your head and just laugh, reminding yourself to change that later. You see you username ‘talkdirtytome’. “Oh Nat,” you groan. Becoming a master at TikTok in a matter of minutes you find where to change your username, but seeing as Natasha had changed it 5 times in less than 2 hours, your account is locked to more changes for at least a week. Thankful that the username you ended up with wasn’t so bad considering one of the last names was ‘fckbunny'. “Oh my god, Nat. You are so dead!” You take a deep breath and sit up against your headboard. You remind yourself it’s not the end of the world and it’s just the internet, it’s only forever. Ready to give it a rest for the night you lay your phone down when you get a notification.
*Buchananclaymates is going live*
“Who the hell is that and why does it sound like porn?” Even as you ask yourself that very important question your thumb has already clicked on the notification. You are taken to the live screen on TikTok. On your screen sits the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. His blue eyes pop against the blue henley he is wearing and his hair is short. Theres a boyish charm to him even though he is clearly in his early late 20’s maybe even early 30’s. He is sitting in some kind of garage and on the shelf behind him sits a dozen or so pots, pitchers, mugs, plates, all of them handcrafted. What gets you the most is his little New York accent slipping through his words. Not too much but enough that you can pick out the Brooklyn in him. His voice is so smooth, you could fall asleep listening to him talk about pottery. And his laugh, it makes you smile and you want to hear it again, so light and free, beautiful. As the shock of how beautiful this man is finally resolves, he says something that makes your heart drop straight to your stomach.
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Bucky is having fun as all his followers sign on and begin requesting stuff. He starts to work the clay and begins his steps on making a pitcher. He is taking a moment to read some of the chat when a new user pops up. He memorized all his regulars, and yes there is about 100-200 of them but he has a good memory, against all odds and every concussion he had as a child. But his is one he has never seen before. He cleans off his hands and moves the camera closer.
“Hey, I see some new people here tonight,” He gets a better look at the username and he can’t help but blush and laugh as he teases his new viewer. “User ‘talkdirtytome’ I feel like you might be on my wrong account.” He winks. “I’m just messing with you! I do have another account and it is a little more… well-“ **********************************************
A voice from somewhere behind the camera shouts, “thirst trappy!!” The man Blushes but also nods, “yeah, I guess Rogers is right. It’s full of pottery thirst traps. But nothing more than that. This is a pg-13 page so, ‘talkdirtytome’ save it for the DM’s” he winks and laughs again. You look at the comments pouring in as the live continues, some are asking about buying some of his work. Others are asking if he makes custom pieces. Other ask what’s his favorite type of clay to use, you didn’t know there were different types. But overwhelmingly the comments were asking ‘take your shirt off!’ The man didn’t seem bothered by the comments at all, in fact he ate it up. Flirting and teasing the viewers with movements that showed little sections of his stomach or leaning forward and letting his shirt dip enough to see down it. He truly is a showman because you are entranced and before you know it you’ve spent an hour on this live watching him talk about pottery, and getting to know a little about him. You find yourself wanting to know everything, he seems so sweet and his eyes are kind. You don’t even realize you’re drooling over him until he starts rapping up the live. You don’t even know his name and yet you’re sad when he finally says goodnight and cuts the live off.
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Bucky is pleasantly surprised with how well this live went. He got 15 orders while on live and he got about 1000 new followers. He knew he was pulling out all the stops tonight and flirting hardcore. Making sure he didn’t wear an undershirt so when he raised his arms the comment section went wild with the tease. Putting his hair in a half up half down bun that he knows drives his followers crazy. He was playing for keeps and thankfully it paid off. Especially with his most interesting new viewer. Why this new user caught his eye he will never know, ‘talkdirtytome’ was probably some 59 year old bald guy who found Bucky hot… but he couldn’t help hoping that maybe the user was really some really beautiful women in her late 20’s… a guy can dream, right?
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You quickly click to his profile and do a little stalking. You can’t find this other page he talked about, probably because it’s some onlyfans or something like a cam sight. He was probably keeping it PG so the TikTok police didn’t flag his video. You’ve only been on it for about 2 hours but you’ve heard all about people getting banned or blocked because their videos were “too mature.” You give his page a once over again you finally clock his name. “James, huh. How very.. normal.” You blush and quickly jump back to your page, feeling exhilarated you change the profile picture to one of you. It doesn’t really show much, in fact all it shows is your hair and a hidden side profile… but it’s a step. You then find James page again and quickly, before you can second guess yourself, you follow him and set up notifications. You don’t want to miss seeing this beautiful man. Maybe Natasha was right, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. You lay your phone down and drift off to sleep, happier than ever.
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Right before Bucky is about to go to bed he sees a new notification,
*New Follower- Bunny*
“Who the fuck is Bunny??” Bucky asks out loud as he clicks on the profile. He sees the username at the top ‘talkdirtytome’, “Ahh so Baldies name is Bunny, great.” Bucky groans. But then he sees the profile picture. “I wait, that’s a women. Wait- that’s?! FUCK YES!” He about yells from the comfort of his room, and only bring his voice down because he remembers Steve is on the other side of the wall. He messages you and then Bucky goes to sleep one happy man.
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The sun streams through your window and you wake up to the soft buzz of your phone. You stretch and start your morning routine before actually checking the said phone, because you know the time suck that will happen if you just sit and scroll instead of getting up and ready. A text from Natasha saying she’s meeting ‘her man’ and will bring you back a coffee. You start to set your phone down when you notice a little red bubble on the TikTok app. Curiosity gets the better of you and you find your way back to your bed before you open it. The butterflies that burst in your stomach and travel throughout your body leave you breathless when you see that you have 5 messages from ‘Buchananclaymates’ aka Bucky.
“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!!” You start screaming as you take deep breaths and try to calm down. “Okay, it’s okay. He’s just a dude. He’s hot! But he’s just a guy, just read the messages.” You click them open and one by one your face heats up more and those butterflies become stronger lower and lower in your body.
*Messages*
Hey!
I see I have a new follower 😉
Glad I didn’t scare you off with all that teasing.
Hope to see you around again!
Maybe even here, 😏 ‘claymatesbuck’
“Oh my god,” you groan at the innuendo of the second username. “So it’s definitely porn!” You exclaim, not sure how you feel about this. “Of course the guy I find attractive is the one with a porn page.” You groan. “You really know how to pick em!” You pout for a moment and then you realize that you’re home alone. Natasha is out and will be for awhile. Your curiosity pushes you to click on the username and you are taken to another tiktok page. Every thumbnail for each video is of Bucky shirtless and working with clay. “He wasn’t kidding about the thirst traps.” You blush as you click on one video. It start to play and there is a semi sexually suggestive song playing as Bucky works the clay in his hands. Molding it and shaping it just how he wants. His biceps are on display and his abs, he ends the video with a little wink and lip bite.
“Oh my god!!” It comes out as more of a moan than it did an actual exclamation. “Oh Natasha, what have you done?!” You groan as you lay on your bed, ready to spend the morning watching every video on his page.
Before long you end up pressing that follow button and closing the app before you can do anything else to embarrass yourself.
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Bucky sees your follow on his other page and if he sits down and plans out the next few videos to be exceptionally dirty, well maybe there was a correlation. Or maybe not.
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The next two weeks you find yourself watching James new videos he posts and viewing his lives whenever you have a chance. He really does work great with his hands and half the time you forget that he is shirtless until he’s winking at the camera or he’s flirty and teasing everyone saying ‘You guys need some water.’ You wish you had the courage to message him and get to know him a little more but your nerves get in the way each time before you can press send. James will send you flirty messages and you will like them but you can never bring yourself to respond. You interact just enough to let him know to keep doing it.
It’s Friday night again and you see he is going live, like always you join and just watch. “So I have recently reached almost 10,000 followers on here, which is a huge milestone and I wanted to celebrate it!” He sits closer to the phone screen and you get a better glimpse of his eyes. Even. Bluer than you originally thought. He has little creases by his eyes that crinkle when he smiles too big and his nose scrunches up. He’s perfect. “Anyone that wants to be added into the drawing leave a comment on my last video saying so. This drawing is for a custom pottery piece of your choice. So if you win I will make you whatever you ask for,” he smirks, apparently knowing some of his followers a little too well. “Well within reason. No ‘life art’ sculptures.” He winks and you feel the blush start to rise. Would someone really be that bold to request that of him? “Anyway, the drawing will happen tomorrow at noon! So go comment now for the chance to win.” He signs off with a little wave and wink. Without even thinking, because if you think about it you will back out, you comment and ask to be added in. Within minutes he has liked your comment and sent another message to you.
*message*
I was gonna add you in regardless. 😉
The heat is almost burning in your face, he doesn’t even know you. How could he be this good at getting a rise out of you?! Your brain won’t shut off that night, thinking and even dreaming about this man behind your phone screen. “Damn it!” You grumble and end up having to watch some old Disney movies just to keep your mind off the filthy things you wish James would do to you instead of the clay he usually is holding. You finally drift off to sleep to the sounds of Cinderella.
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“Hey!” Natasha pulls you out of your thoughts as you look up from your morning coffee.
“Hey, sorry.”
“It’s fine,” she looks you over. “Man you were really out of it. Didn’t even hear me invite you out.”
“Huh?” You hum in acknowledgment and Natasha rolls her eyes.
“I said I am going out later with my TikTok boyfriend and he has a friend that he can invite if you wanted to join.” She explains for the second time.
“Oh umm now? I-“ you try to think of an excuse, not wanting to miss the drawing on James page. “I actually have plans. With someone online.” Natasha shoots up straight and about squeals in excitement. “Okay okay, calm down.” You laugh. “It’s not a date but this guys been super flirty and I- I don’t know, maybe today I will finally make the move and message him back.” You shrug trying to play it off.
“Tell me everything, now!!” Natasha demands as she sips her coffee. “Don’t leave out a single detail.” You debate on lying, or just making it juicier than it is, but you decide against it.
“Okay, just don’t laugh.” You remind her before you tell her everything. She already has his page pulled up and is drooling over him too.
“He is hot!! Wow, and he said all those things to you?!” Meaning the messages he had sent.
“Yeah, so I don’t know. Maybe he’s trying to drum up business-” Natasha shakes her head.
“No, absolutely not. He is flirting hardcore.” She keeps looking through videos and one seems to catch her eye as her eyes widen and then a big smirk crosses her face before she exists out of the app and lays her phone down. Super quiet and worrying you even more than she does when shes asking you a million questions. “You said there is a drawing today?” You nod and you can see the wheels turning already. “At noon?” She asks and you nod again, she checks her watch and then opens her phone, obviously sending a message to someone.
“Natasha if you are messaging James, so help me-“ she cuts you off.
“And so what if I am?” She teases. “I’m just doing the hard work for you, the correct response is ‘thank you’.” She blows you a kiss as she leaves the room, leaving your stomach in knots and even more worried about this drawing.
**********************************************
Steve is in the garage with Bucky, getting ready for the drawing for his page and starting to film some more content for his own carpentry and woodworking page when he gets a text. He looks over at Bucky and then just laughs and quickly answers back.
“What’s so funny Punk?” Bucky asks and Steve smiles.
“Nothing, Jerk. You need help with the drawing? Where’s the bowl?” Steve asks as he slides his phone back in his pants. Bucky points to where he sat it and Steve grabs it to help.
**********************************************
“Okay everyone, it is noon and we are ready to get this show on the road!” James says happily. You refused to let Natasha sit and watch with you. She can watch on her own phone, but she won’t have a front row seat to your blushing or your disappointment when you inevitably lose. “I had over 500 of you enter, which is just incredible! Next time I should make each entry like $3 and send all the proceeds to wounded warriors.” You gently smile at the kind idea. It’s sweet, thinking of others instead of finding a way to make a bigger payday for himself. “Okay, let’s draw! The bowl, Rogers!” A hand comes into frame and the bowl is above James head. He lifts an arm up and reaches in pulling one slip of paper out. And as soon as the arm appeared it disappeared. James opens the paper and smiles before it turns to a laugh and then a smirk. “Well, user ‘talkdirtytome’, I am looking forward to making that custom piece for you.” You swear he stares right at you as he bites his lip and smiles again. “To everyone else, there will be more in the future! Oh and ‘talk dirty’?” You sit up and answer him like an idiot.
‘He can’t hear you, moron.’ You shake your head.
“I’ll be in touch. Bye everyone!” And the live ends. You lay your head down on your bed and just smile at the thought that James will be making a custom piece of pottery for you. When Natasha speaks she scares you half to death, not having heard her sneak in.
“WOW, you’ve got it bad!” She teases and you toss a pillow at her.
“Leave me alone!” You laugh and yell as you look down at the message that just came through.
**********************************************
When he read your username he had to remind himself that he can’t be partial, at least not on camera, but he couldn’t help the smile. He is gonna do this right and he refuses to mess it up, he’s got just the plan. He grabs his phone from his stand and quickly messages you.
**********************************************
*Message*
James- Idk how you feel about exchanging numbers, which I’d be fine with but I understand if you’re not. So zoom? Maybe later this afternoon?
You blush and quickly write back. Saying that you can’t wait and you will “see” him then. James likes your message and then sends a picture of binoculars. It’s so random and weird but you can’t help but laugh. Maybe Natasha’s right, you do have it bad.
You check your hair about 10 times, make sure your make up is okay, not too much but just enough to make it look like you’re not wearing any at all. Your sundress that you were already wearing perfectly accents your figure and makes your eyes pop. You check the lighting in your room and play with the blinds. With 10 minutes to spare before the arranged time for the zoom you sit down as your computer notifies you that you are in the “waiting room.” Whenever Jane slogs on the camera will turn on and that will be it. As you wait so many thoughts cross your mind. ‘He’s probably gonna be short and keep it super professional.’ ‘He may flirt for the camera but there’s no way he’d actually like me.’, ‘Calm down, he’s probably gonna be on and off as fast as he can.’ You start to doubt yourself and you suddenly feel self-conscious for looking nice. Right as you’re about to throw your hair up and grab a blanket to wrap around your shoulders, the screen goes black and then lights up, James is right in front of you. He doesn’t look right at you, still messing around with his notebook and taking a drink of water, obviously not realizing that you two are already connected. At first when he sees you his eyes just glance over. But then the realization hits and his eyes widen
**********************************************
“Wow,” Bucky is breathless. You’re not just beautiful, you’re stunning. He’s never been mesmerized by a single thing or person in his life, until this moment. “I- uh I’m-“ he lightly laughs as he smiles, he can’t stop smiling. “Hi I’m James,” he laughs and blushes as he hangs his head for a moment. “Um but people who have seen me stutter and stumble over my words, like an idiot, get to call me Bucky.” Your smile is contagious and your eyes sparkle brightly as Bucky talks more and more. Your laugh is sweet and music to his ears.
“Hi Bucky, I’m Elizabeth but people who can make me laugh this much can call me Lizzy or Bunny.” You lean forward a little and Bucky laughs.
“Bunny? There’s got to be a story behind that.” He presses lightly. You nod and hide your face for a moment as you blush and giggle.
“There is, but all I can say now is, it was college and I was very drunk, and someone dared me to use a pogo stick… and it turns out I was VERY good at it.” You laugh and Bucky is amazed as he laughs.
“Well so am I so maybe we will have to have a competition to see who is better.” He winks and you laugh.
“Tell me when and where! I’ll just need a few shots first then my balance will be perfect!” You lightly joke as you both laugh. It gets quiet for a minute and Bucky is just taking you in. “So,” Bucky’s eyes go wide as he remembers the whole reason for the zoom.
“Yes, right! Well how about we start by you telling me what you would like.” Bucky says as he grabs his notebook, looking down and starting to write, maybe if he focuses on writing he won’t embarrass himself even more. But then you start to speak and Bucky can’t help but look up and meet your gaze, your voice so sweet and soft. Your eyes kind and warm, ‘how could the username ‘talkdirtytome’ belong to the picture of purity and kindness.’ He smiles at the thought and tries his hardest to listen as you talk.
“I’m not picky at all, so maybe a vase?” You suggest. “Yeah, I’d like to have a gift that means something to me.” You finish explaining. Bucky just stares and then realizes you are done, he quickly looks down and starts to scribble some notes. He is so handsome, you think. The way his brow furrows as he’s concentrating and how the subtle but noticeable blush spreads across his cheeks. His shoulders are firm and you can tell he is solid. His voice, deep and warm, catches you off guard and you hope he didn’t catch you looking starry eyed at him.
“A Vase? That I can do!” Bucky says happily. He didn’t miss how your voice turned ever sweeter when you said ‘a gift that means something.’ He tells himself not to bet too excited. “Colors? Designs?” He wonders what all is hiding in your mind and if you will share it with him now for this vase. If he can get a picture of who you are.
“I love wildflowers, if I’m being honest. But not bright and bold. More subtle and muted. Almost watercolor like.” You laugh to yourself and you see Bucky’s eyes light up at the sound. “Sorry I know that probably sounds weird.”
She’s perfect, Bucky thinks. “Watercolored wild flowers? Yeah, I can make that happen.” He doesn’t want this to end but he has all he needs. How to make this go longer?! “So- I’m local to Brooklyn- and you by no means have to tell me where you’re from or anything- unless you want to!” He cringes at his awkwardness and your giggles let him know it’s alright.
“I am too, well close enough.” You explain. “So maybe we could meet up?” You see Bucky’s eyes light up and then you shoot yourself in the foot. “When it’s time for me to pick up the vase.” His eyes look a little sadder but his smile doesn’t fade.
“Yeah, I’ll send you a message on TikTok when it’s ready and we can find a place to meet.” Bucky says as he sits back in his chair. “I’m excited to get started on it, it looks like a fun one.” He continues as he looks down at his notes.
“I know it will be wonderful, all your work is.” You compliment, wanting to make up for your error that cause the light to dull in those incredible blue eyes. “I do have a question,” He leans forward again.
“Shoot.” Plan and simple.
“Well, what’s up with your two different accounts and the one username? Because at first I thought it was a porn page.” You explain, hopping to get a laugh. And you did. Bucky laughs, his hand over his pec and head thrown back with abandon.
“Oh no! Were you disappointed?” He teases and you laugh.
“Well maybe I was!” You tease back, not quite sure where the courage came from.
“Well as you know now, I go by Bucky. So I just used the ‘Clay mates’ and my name which does sound a lot like-“
“Yeah! So why?” You press again, smiling even bigger.
“It was a dare from a friend and it kinda stuck. I get tons of people asking so it also generates conversations around my business and what not. So it works! Is it crass? Kinda. Do I care? No.” He laughs again and messes with his hair a little. “So you know I make pottery but what do you do, Bunny?” He smirks and your face is aflame at the use of your nickname.
“I’m a writer, I write romance novels.” Suddenly feels quite bashful about your job. Bucky nods and rubs his chin as he watches you.
“So? Is this a meet cute worthy of one of your books?” Bucky asks. You look behind the computer at your wall where you storyboards are. A gentle smile washes over you as you look back at an expectant Bucky.
“Yeah, I’d say it is.” You admit. An alarm goes off on Bucky’s side of the screen and he curses under his breath.
“Sorry, Bunny. I’ve got to go. If I’m being honest I really wish I didn’t. I’d love to stay here all night getting to know you, I promised a friend I’d go out tonight and I never break a promise. So with that knowledge handed to you on a silver platter,” you laugh and he smiles brightly again. “I promise I will make you a gift that means something.” Your breath catches and you nod slightly.
“Thank you, Bucky.” You say before you both wave goodbye like dorks.
**********************************************
Your chance, gone. Like a lot of chances in your life. Watching them go by because you don’t have the courage to ask for what you want. Natasha walks into your room and pulls you up from the bed. “Come on, we are late.” You finally agreed to go out with just her when you started to come down from the high of getting to talk to Bucky. “I promise, you will have fun. In fact this will be the best night of your life.” She hugs you and leads you to the door. As it opens you come face to face with Natasha’s ‘tiktok boyfriend’
“Hiya Stevie,” Natasha coos as she leans in and gives him a sweet kiss. Steve meets your gaze when he pulls back and offers his hand.
“Hey! I’m Steve Rogers,” he motions beside him, urging someone to move in closer. “And this is my friend Bucky Barnes.” You meet those blue eyes and melt, Bucky’s painfully awkward smile turns genuine when he sees you. He almost shoves Steve out of the way to get closer to you.
“Oh my god- Bunny?!” Bucky exclaims. “So your friend who made your TikTok account is the same one my friend has been dating for the past two months,” he smiles and laughs. “What a small world! God, I’m glad to see you.” You blush at the nickname, Natasha bumping your arm and Steve giving you both a questioning look when he hears the name.
You are just as shocked as Bucky and honestly can’t find the words.
“I’m stunned,” you laugh and look at Natasha. “Did you know?!” You ask her and she smirks as she pulls Steve into her arms.
“I would know my man’s voice and hands anywhere, so when I saw and heard him on one of Bucky’s videos I quickly texted Stevie and we worked our magic.” She winks. “I mean out of 500 entries for the pottery and you won! How lucky was that.” She winks again and you gasp.
“Did you two rig the drawling?!?” You exclaim and Bucky shoots a glance to Steve who is blushing bright red.
“I may have added a few extra slips with your name.” He admits. Bucky turns and faces him as he crosses his arms.
“How many?” Bucky asks and Steve laughs and sheepishly admits,
“Like 200 extra slips. She had a very good chance at winning.” Steve looks at Natasha and then you and Bucky. You both laugh and Bucky turns back to you.
“Well I’m sure as hell not mad,” he reaches out for your hand. “Are you?” He questions and you shake your head no as you put your hand in his. “Good,” Bucky leans in closer and pulls you in, your lips almost brush when you hear your apartment door close and lock. Looking back you see that Natasha and Steve have slipped inside. “So I guess it’s just us tonight,” he laughs and you agree. “What would you like to do? Cause I have no idea what they had planned.” You think for a minute and then turn back to the door and knock. Bucky lets go of your hand and you quickly grab it back giving him a wink. A slightly irritated Natasha opens the door, lipstick gone and smeared all over Steve’s face.
“What?” She asks and you push past her headed to your room. Bucky stands in the hallway watching and praying you come back.
You emerge with your purse that’s pretty big and Natasha knows that’s your “just in case I spend the night.” Purse. You wave goodbye as you grab your keys and close the door behind you. Turning to Bucky and pulling him in, you kiss his cheek and wrap your arms around one of his.
“Where to?” You ask.
**********************************************
Steve drove them there so you offer to drive wherever.
“Would it be too forward to invite you back to my place? I’d really like to show you my studio.” He asks so sweetly, you can tell he is nervous. You tease him a little
“Is that your line for all the girl?” Bucky laughs and shakes his head.
“Nope, I never bring girls back to my studio. But if love to have you there.” The double meaning is not Lost on you or Bucky. The blush giving you away, Bucky laughs and pulls you closer before kissing your forehead and taking your keys. “You okay if I drive us?”
“Sure, just promise not to murder me.” You joke as you climb in your car. Bucky sits and gets it started before he looks at you and shrugs.
“No promises, my art has been described as deadly good.” He winks and you laugh at his horrible joke. Soon you are pulling up to a little house with a detached garage.
“You know, it really does look like you’re about to kill me.” You tease but also look around and check the area.
“I know, it’s not the best house but it works and it’s clean. A good neighborhood and lots of space so Steve and I really try hard for our personalities to outshine the murder aesthetic our house gives off.” He takes your hand and walks you to the garage as you laugh. The garage lights up and on every wall is a shelf full of pottery projects. Some half done, some completely done.
“Wow! Bucky, these are amazing!” You exclaim as you look at the intricate detail on each piece. You turn to meet his gaze and he is leaning against his work table just watching you. Moving through the room with Grace and admiring his work, it’s really doing something to him. He hopes you feel the same way.
“So? How did you get into pottery?” You ask as you run your finger along one of the freshly finished pieces.
“I was in the army, when I got out I needed a hobby that I could turn my mind off and just work. Pottery gave me a place for that and it also gave me a place to rediscover my creativity.” Bucky explains. You turn and look at him, gentle as in your eyes.
“That’s why you said that comment about wounded warriors. You wanna support your fellow vets.” You hope your assumption is correct. Bucky nods and smiles, staying firmly where he is.
“Yeah, I nearly lost my arm before I got out. Others aren’t so lucky. So any way I can give back, I try to.” He picks up a piece of clay and start to mold it while talking, mindless work that helps settle his nerves and al the feelings he is having about you.
“That’s amazing.” You say simply, not wanting to push more.
“How did you get into Romance writing?” Bucky asks, a teasing smile across his face. You laugh and continue to walk around the room, looking at the pieces.
“Well, I’m a hopeless romantic,” you look up and meet his gaze. “So I guess I just write about the things I hope would happen to me.” You shrug, your explanation seems simple enough. Bucky is mesmerized by you, how such a beautiful and sweet woman would be single blows his mind. And so sincere too, none of that fake humility he sees in the women he meets who are as beautiful as you, with you, it’s all real and sweet. It’s refreshing.
“How long have you and Steve Been friends?” You ask, wanting to change the topic from yourself.
“Since childhood, he was always getting his ass beat behind the school and I was always there to step in and finish the fight he started.” You laugh and so does Bucky.
“So Steve was a bully?” You ask.
“No!” Bucky laughs. “Just a little punk who wanted to ‘stick up for the little guy’ but he was the little guy, so.” Bucky lightly laughs and you nod. “How about you and Natasha?”
“Since high school. Her family moved here and she was all ‘cool and steely’ that none of the other kids wanted to talk to her,” you laugh at the thought. “I made it my mission to become friends with her. By senior year we were going to go to the same college and we’re going to room together.”
“She seems like a pretty great friend.” Bucky comments, “And Steve adores her but I’m sure she already knows that cause Steve wears his heart on his sleeve.” Bucky teases and you laugh. For a moment it’s quiet, Bucky just watches you and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach and a heat settle even lower. This man is so sweet and kind, not to mention incredibly hot. He is absolutely making you regret not wearing your sexy underwear tonight. You see some clay and the wheel sitting in the middle of the floor. You walk over and run a finger over the clay. Looking up and see Bucky’s eyes raking over your body, you feel invigorated. As sexily as you can, you sit on the stool and toss a look over at him.
“Teach me, please?” You demand and then ask. You see the moment Bucky melts and is all in. He smirks and walks over, pulling up a chair behind you and straddling your body. He places his hands on your and shows you where to plant your feet. He leans forward and whispers against your ear.
“This is a little too ‘Ghost’ for me.” He teases and you giggle as you turn and look at him. His eyes drop to your lips and then back to your eyes. Clay forgotten, you spin in his arms and crash your lips to his. His hands roam over your back, pulling you closer. You moan against his lips, desperate for more, but he pulls away. Breathless and blushing he asks. “I hope this isn’t too forward, would you like to stay the night?” You smirk and move back, away from his arms to grab your bag. Reaching your hand out for him to take again.
“Lead the way.” You coo. Bucky has you in his arms and pressed against his chest so quickly. His lips capture yours again and you giggle against them. Bucky lifts you into his arms and expertly makes his way into the house, never leaving your lips longer than a Quick Look at the doors to make sure they are locked.
Stumbling down the hallway, backs pressed against the walls as you both fight for dominance. Giggles and moans filling the air as you grope each others bodies, seeking flesh rather than clothing. When your back finally presses against Bucky’s door, he pulls back and takes your face in his hands. “This isn’t too fast, is it? You feel this too, right? This connection- this pull.” You bite your lip and nod as you place your hands firmly against his chest, the muscles beneath your fingers, firm and hard, drool worthy.
“Yeah, I feel it too.” You admit before kissing him again and moaning against his mouth. Bucky opens the door and kicks it closed with his boot. He walks you backwards to the bed and in utter abandon you allow yourself to fall, fall back, fall in, fall deep. Pulling back slightly, Bucky caresses your cheek and meets your gaze, your heartbeat quickens as he gently smiles and an exciting peace washes over you. You’ve never felt this safe, this fast. Slowing the pace, Bucky takes his time with you. Kissing down your neck and nipping lightly at your collarbone before his fingers dance at the hem of your shirt. Your hands slips under his shirt and your fingers draw line over his back as he moves above you. First to go his his shirt, tossed behind him and across the room. He sees your eyes trailing down his body and he gives you a moment to take it in. His chest is sculpted yet still soft under your touch, the tasteful amount of chest hair along his pec and sternum tickle your fingers as you memorize his body with your finger tips, and the trail of dark brown hair leading down from his bellybutton and disappearing below his waistband sends your mind into over drive. You lean up and kiss along his chest as he moans at the feeling of your tongue grazing along his nipples. He grabs the hem of your shirt and lifts it up and over your head, tossing it with his. Leaning down and kissing the tops of your breast, he is in heaven. The straps slip down and before you know it you are uncoupling the back and tossing it off, needing as little clothing between the two of you as possible. Bucky reaches for his pants and has them shoved down and off as you remove yours. Standing above you in only black boxer briefs you see the outline of his cock, hard and aching against his boxers. Your mouth waters and yet you are slightly afraid because you can tell he is big. Bigger than any man you’ve been with. Bucky settles on the bed between your legs and slips his hands in the waistband of your panties, waiting for permission, you nod and he has them down you leg and scattered with the rest of the clothes. You sit up and kneel in front of where he kneels on the bed, pulling you closer by the small of your back, Bucky kisses you. You wrap your hands around his waist and slip one hand down his boxers, squeezing his ass before waiting for permission to pull them down. He nods, not wanting to release your lips. When nothing is left between your bodies you lay back in Bucky’s arms and he settles between your legs. Rolling his hips against yours and giving you both friction where you desperately need it. Your moan echos off the walls and he smiles, knowing he is the cause. Bucky kisses down your body and ends up laying between you legs as he licks and sucks on your clit, gently teasing your pussy with a fingertip before pushing all the way in and devoting himself to making you cum on his face. You hands play with his hair as his other hand palms your breast. It’s so fast and so good, you can’t help but moan his name as you cum, squirting on his tongue. “Bucky!! Oh-fffffuuuuc- yes!!” He smirks up at you which makes you cum again. He moans and hums against you as he brings you down. He kisses up your body and settles between you legs.
“I can grab a condom if you want.” Bucky says as he is already reaching into his bedside table to grab one.
“I’m on the pill and I’m clean, I haven’t been with anyone in about a year.” You explain. Bucky nods and takes a shuddering breath before he kisses you again.
“I’m clean too, and it’s been even longer for me.” He gives a weak little smile and you caress the side of his face before you gently kiss his lips.
“Never would have guessed with what that mouth just did to me.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood while letting him know he’s still got it. Bucky laughs and kisses you again as he lines himself up with you. Slowly pushing in and watching your face for pain as he bottoms out. “Mmhm ffffuc- yyyeeesss!” you moan at the stretch. Bucky kisses you again and slowly starts to move his hips, in and out, making sure to hit that spot inside of you over and over again. At first he is laying on top of you, your bodies moving together and against each other, it was sweet and sensual. Then Bucky sits up a little and you take that moment to flip him over, pinning him to the bed with a giant smile on his face. You ride him as you brace your hands against his pecs. His moans growing louder and louder as you get him close to the edge. You sit up and play with your breast and you snap your hips back and forth, ready to bring him over. But apparently that wasn’t what he wanted, because suddenly you are on your back and your legs are over his shoulders as he drills into you while one hand plays with your clit. You gasp and moan as you writhe beneath him. “Oh! BUCKY?!?! Yesyesyes!!!”
“That’s it, Bunny. Come on, I’m not cumming till you have cum on my cock. Come on, baby girl.” That did it, his dirty talk and care. You melted beneath him as you cum, squirting again and feeling better than you’ve felt tin years. “That’s it Good girl,” Bucky coos as he chases his high. Pleasure washes over his face as he buries himself inside you, cumming hard and deep. “Mmhmm squeezing my cock so well,” he is in utter bliss and he lets your legs go and just lays down next to you, his softening cock still inside. He kisses your forehead and hums. “Good girl.” You beam up at him, the praise doing something new to you that it’s never done before. He kisses you before he pulls the covers up and over you body, still entangled and coming down from heaven.
“Mmhmm that was definitely the makings of a meet cute.” You admit and Bucky laughs as he kisses you again.
“Come on, let’s go ‘meet cute’ in the shower, huh?!” He pulls you up and into his arms you nod and he carry’s you away.
**********************************************
You stand at the door to you car, the sun rising beautifully and creating a glow around you two. “I wish you could stay longer but I understand why you have to go.” Bucky says as he kisses you again.
“My book won’t write itself and if I stay here I will end up participating in smut and not writing it, which is the chapter I am currently working on so.” You explain as Bucky lightly laughs before he smirks and kisses you.
“Well, feel free to use last night in bed as inspiration. Or the shower last night, or the midnight hand play we had, or ever the slow morning sex we just finished.” He beams as he retells the all the adventures you got up to last night. You blush and burry your head in his chest as he hugs you and laughs.
“I will call you tonight and see about dinner, okay?” He nods and you kiss him again. As you are about to get in your car, Steve’s car pulls in. He honks loudly and gets out cheering and clapping. Completely embarrassing Bucky and you, but you know it’s in good fun.
“Were you two safe?” He asks, adding more fuel to the embarrassment fire.
“Nope, not at all!” Bucky shoots back and you decide to tease too.
“Yeah, totally pregnant over here. It worked that fast! Get ready to move into the garage, Stevie, the baby is gonna need your room.” Bucky laughs and pulls you closer. He kisses you again and then sends you on your way. Bucky turns to Steve and you see them “fighting” as you drive away.
**********************************************
When you get home Natasha is dead to the world and you decide to leave her that way. You see a notification on your phone, it’s Bucky’s TikTok. Opening the app to see a new video.
“Hey guys! Sorry about no live last night.” He blushes, “I uh I met a really amazing Women and my night ended up going a little too well. And it may continue that way, so there may be a change in the live schedule as well as the posting schedule. She’s a writer and our ‘meet cute’ inspired quite a lot in her and I need to be available for any further inspiration.” He winks and then laughs. “But seriously, I’m still around, just maybe not every night anymore. Love you all!” And with that the video ends. You smirk and quickly send Bucky a text.
Message
Hey James, your new Women friend needs some inspiration 😏😉
Within seconds your phone is ringing, as you answer his voice is soothing and so low it’s almost like a purr. “Well, what did you have in mind, Bunny?”
Taglist: @georgiapeach30513 @theinheriteddutchess @rainydayandmondays @cadencejames87 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @jessieasher1616 @janineb86 @cjand10 @welp-heregoessomething
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kromeihl · 3 months
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Hii! Can i request a drabble of ken sato being japan’s spider man ? (Of the scenario given below)
(It’s like peter parker and gwen kinda of love, where the reader is like gwen or whatever you would like to present her c: )
That one scene where peter is injured and gwen sneaks him in her room and then tends to his wounds while peter is just downright SMITTEN and distracted like omg 😩. And then they discuss that he should stop the lizard (in this case the kaiju) etc etc. like that scene! (I hope you know this scene from the amazing spider man- 😅)
IM SO SORRY IF THIS REQUEST IS TOO LONG— i just love your work! And i got inspired to request this because of that post where you were like “omg imagine he was spider man—“
Anyways- love you lodes ! Xoxo
Omg I love the amazing spider man?! Seeing you guys request literally brings joy to my heart. 🫶🏼 Don’t apologize for a long request you can keep it coming, honey. ☺️ Reqs are always open! I’M SORRY IF IT DIDN’T TURN OUT THE WAY YOU WANTED IT TO BE😭 (Wanna read a Kenji fic on wp?👀 -> Bloop. Yes, I am promoting myself. Header by @/cafekitsune. IF YOU GUYS HAVE ANY IDEAS ON POSTING KENJI SATO IN A SPIDERMAN SUIT OR WHATEVER IN THIS STORY INSPIRED YOU TO DO IT, TAG ME RIGHT AWAY IF IT’S ON TIKTOK GAWH DAMN TAG MEMEME @kromeihl)
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TRUTH BENEATH THOSE SCARS
-> SPIDERMAN!KENJI SATO X READER
WARNING(s): NOT PROOFREAD, Mentions of injuries, blood, a bit of cursing, a lil’ suggestive ;)
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I type away in my laptop, finishing a project I was given, to publish soon. It was a newspaper article about Spiderman, of course. I couldn’t help but laugh silently knowing I have to act suspicious about his identity as I type down words.
I hear a loud tap coming from my window, I shook my head knowing it’s probably just some birds, continuing to type. After a few seconds a knock came back, a little louder this time.
I sigh, turning my chair to look, noticing it was him, Kenji Sato. I smile, turning my chair back as I continue to type. “The window’s open, Ken! Come in, I’m just finishing off this article.”
You hear the window open, no response from him. That was weird, he’d usually reply after you speak, cracking a joke or distracting you from your work.
“Ken?” You call out, about to look but still typing, feeling a bit weird from the silence. You hear a small thud, making you stop typing, looking at him as he struggles to sit on the couch. You notice the blood on the side of his forehead.
He could go back home to get tended but of course he chose to come to you. Is he really there for you to help him or something..More?
You quickly rush to him, hitting your leg on the chair in the process, falling on the floor. Kenji couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the pain on his chest making him wince.
“Stop laughing!” You say, embarrassed, quickly getting up to check up on him. “What happened?” You look at him worriedly, seeing the big scratch on his chest, that tore up his suit. “Kaiju attack..” He struggles to say, leaning his head back on the arm of your couch.
“Why the heck can’t you just sit properly?” You mutter, your hands shaking at the sight of his bloody injury. He chuckles, “You’re really scolding me right now? I need some help, ya know?” He teases, moving his hand to your wrist.
“I’m okay, stop shaking.” He smiles softly, earning a sigh from you as you tried to calm down. “Right.” You say, before hearing a knock from your door. I curse silently, searching for my mini refrigerator.
I quickly run to it, opening it as I grab a cold can of soda. “Here, uhm.. Maybe it’ll stop the bleeding for a while?” You panic, giving him the can of soda as he quickly moves away from the couch, hiding, just incase the person that knocked will come in.
I walk up to the door, glancing at Kenji before opening the it slightly. “Heyyyy, Ami!” Kenji furrowed his brows at your greeting, right, you were best friends with Ami Wakita, the person that interviews him way too much when he’s out with his other job, a famous baseball player.
“Chiho wants to play with y—“
“Sorry. I can’t I’m busy!” You say, slightly raising your voice, after an awkward silence, you lean your body against the door frame, one hand holding the door behind for it to stay in place.
“I mean..The project you gave me is just sooo difficult! I just need to work really hard and think. I need to publish it as soon as possible!” You say, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll play with Chiho tomorrow morning! I can babysit her, if you want.” You smile sheepishly.
Ami gives you an amused look, “Uhm, okay.. I’ll be in the kitchen. Do you wa—“ “I don’t need anything!” You quickly cut off, laughing awkwardly afterwards. “I could just bring it into your room—“ “Nope! All good, thanks Ami!” You smile, earning a nod from her.
“Uhm..No worries, [Name]. Good night.” She smiles before leaving. “Good night!” You close the door after, locking it. You glance at Kenji who was still behind the couch, now drinking the can of soda.
“Kenji!” You scold, going to him as you try to grab the soda which he swiftly moved away. “What? You gave me a soda, might as well drink it.” He shrugs, drinking the can again as you pull away.
“Seriously? Drink water!” You huff, walking to your cabinet, finding a cloth, towel, bandaid, and some ointment. “Says the one who drinks anything but water.” He retorts, sitting back on the couch improperly.
“Yeah, yeah.” You sigh, grabbing a chair as you place it in front of him, placing the things you got on your lap. You brush away his hair, holding it in place as you grabbed the wet towel and gently wiped the blood off his face. He winces from the pain, closing his eyes.
You can’t help but stare at his face, he’s incredibly handsome.. And knowing he was a famous baseball player, surely a ton of pretty girls would agree. Your train of thoughts cut off as Kenji smirks, making you realize that you’ve been staring for too long.
“Like what you see?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “No.” You say after, “Then you probably love it then.” He chuckles, making you deepen the towel on his head. “Owww!” He whines, grabbing your hand as he pulls you in making your upper body, lay on his chest.
“Don’t do that.” He says in a stern voice, making your cheeks heat up. “Gosh,” You clear your throat, sitting back up as Kenji moves his hand away from yours. “Come on, let’s hurry. You need to defeat that Kaiju.” You say, putting the ointment then placing a bandaid on his scar.
“Yeah. yeah.” He says, removing the upper part of his suit so you could tend his injury. You pause for a moment, taking in the sight in front of you, he slowly puts his hand on your head. “Come on, you could see more of that later.” He teased.
You slapped his hand away, grabbing the towel as you softly wipe away the blood. He sigh, feeling relief, yet pain still present as you move the towel around his bloody chest. He stares at you for a moment, your messy hair, pretty face, your hands so gentle as you help him.
“You’re gorgeous..” He mumbles, earning a glance from you, “Hm?” You say, gaze back on his wound. “N—Nothing.” He stutters, before clearing his throat. There was a peaceful silence between you, the sound of you wiping was the only noise present.
He felt his hand move towards your face as you start putting ointment on his wound, gently putting a strand of hair behind your ear. You freeze, shivering at his touch. He slowly puts his hand back, continuing to stare right at you.
You notice his longing gaze, yet continue, to finish tending his wound. After a while, you were finally done, him wearing his suit properly again. He groans, adjusting himself on the couch. You put away the things as you gave him small glances.
“Thanks, [Nickname]. You’re the best.” You felt your heart beat fast, walking back to the chair as you smile softly. “No problem, just.. Be more careful, okay? I don’t want you sneaking in my room all injured again.” You huff, earning a soft laugh from Ken.
“You should go.” You say sadly, “I don’t want to.” He declines. “You should. The city needs you.” You look away, feeling disappointed of how you were pushing him away now. “I need you.”
You felt your heart drop at his words, mouth agape as you couldn’t find words to speak. He has that signature cocky smirk of his, plastered on his face as he gently sits up, slowly moving his face towards you. You felt a hand on the back of your head as he caresses it gently.
“N—No. You need to go back to the city. The kaiju will— I mean, it might—“ You stutter feeling him slowly closing in the distance between your lips, his other hand gently placing it on your chin, his thumb brushing your bottom lip softly.
“Let the KDF handle it for a while, I need a reward for being such a great superhero. And you need one for being so good to me.” He says before closing in the gap between your lips. You melt into his touch, feeling your hand snake around his neck as he pulls you in closer.
It took a while before you both pull apart, panting for air as he moves away your hair from your face. “Bug boy” you mutter, smiling at him. “Hm?” He smirks, his arms slowly moving on the sides of your chair, leaning down as you move your body backwards.
“Pretty girl.” He smiles, making your cheeks heat up. You both hear the Kaiju screeching, making you both wince from the loud sound. Kenji groans, making you laugh. “Great timing, I was just getting started.” He sighs, standing up as he walks to the window.
“Stay safe, Spiderman.” You smile, earning a grin from him, he pecks your lips one last time. “Lucky charm.” He winks before putting on his mask, spiderweb coming out from his hand.
“I’ll be back.” You look at him surprised before he leaves, making you look at his figure, slowly disappearing into the city.
“See you, Ken.”
361 notes · View notes
photmath · 9 months
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Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold
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Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader
Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent
Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!
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As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.
“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.
“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.
“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”
You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”
Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.
Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.
It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.
It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.
“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.
You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”
“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.
Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”
“You aren’t gonna stay?”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”
“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”
You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”
He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”
“We saw each other last month.”
“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.
He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”
“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.
You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.
“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.
Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—
“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.
Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”
“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”
“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”
Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.
You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.
“Who do you have?” he asks.
“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”
He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.
“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.
Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.
“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.
It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.
Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.
Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.
Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!
Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.
You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.
“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.
“We’re good…right?”
His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”
“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”
“I can’t just rest my arm?”
Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.
“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.
“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”
“Trent—”
“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”
“What?” you exasperate.
He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”
Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.
Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.
But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.
“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”
The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.
“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”
And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.
“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.
“Trent,” you squeal.
“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”
“I missed them too.”
There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”
You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.
His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.
You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”
“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.
You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.
-
In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.
As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.
“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.
“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”
“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”
“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Trent.”
-
It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.
His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.
Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.
His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”
“You hurt,” you whisper.
“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”
“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.
“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.
You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”
Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”
“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.
He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.
And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.
“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”
Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”
What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.
“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.
Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”
You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”
An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”
“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”
Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”
He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.
You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”
Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”
“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.
His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.
“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.
Jesus.
You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.
He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.
“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.
You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.
With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.
Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.
His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.
Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.
“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.
Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.
His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.
He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”
“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.
He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”
“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”
He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”
“I helped you, didn’t I?”
He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”
“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”
He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.
-
Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.
Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.
Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.
He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”
Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.
“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”
“What?” Trent feigns.
“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.
Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”
The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.
Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.
One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.
Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.
You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.
Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.
You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.
“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.
You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”
For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.
Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.
“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.
Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”
You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”
He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.
----
Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.
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visualbutterflysworld · 8 months
Text
Forgive me? | Vhackerr
When reader and Vinnie get into a bad argument things seem to take a turn for the worse when vinnie says something he shouldn’t. Could this be the end or could this just become the beginning of a true relationship?
I low key had a dream about this type of scenario like years ago and randomly thought of it so :P also probably sloppy writing
“That’s so fucking stupid!” Vinnie screams at me. Vinnie and I had been dating for about 5 months now. We usually don’t fight. I mean not like this. We were fighting about us and what we were. If I said me and him were just friends he’d flip but if I’d ask to post about us he’d deflect.
“It’s not! You should understand about how I feel! I just want the world to know about us! That’s it!” I scream. “Yeah, because you want your fifteen minutes of fame! Such a fucking leach like everyone else!” Vinnie yelled back. I stand there with disbelief. He for real just said that.
Vinnie huffs before he realizes what he has said. “Y/n-” “No, fuck you, Vincent! You think I’m with you because you’re some fucking celebrity?! I’m with you because I love you! Because I love you more than I love myself! More than life itself! I was willing to wait till you were ready but I’m sick of waiting! I’m sick of feeling like I’m some fucking monster that you have to keep hidden from the world but, you know what, since you think that poorly on my character then we shouldn’t let the world know! We shouldn’t let the world know that we had any sorta of connection because we’re fucking done!” I scream at him. I quickly grab the rest of my stuff before heading towards the door.
“I’ll have somebody come get the rest of my shit. Please fuck off you entitled dick!” Is the last thing I shout before slamming the door. The rest is a blur. One minute I’m in the hallway of his building and next I’m sitting on my bathroom floor crying my heart out to my mom.
“Honey, I’m sure he didn’t mean it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’m sure right then and there he would’ve said I love you too.” My mother says as I sob quietly. I told that asshole I loved him. Can you believe that? I’m not sure I meant it but my heart is telling me I did. I told him we were over but, I don’t want it to be over. I get a notification from my phone.
Instagram
Vinnie Hacker has posted on their story
“Yeah, I got to go mom. I’ll talk to you later.” I said and quickly hang up. It takes all my will power not to click on it immediately but my hands seem to have a mind of its own. I click on his story.
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My hand instantly goes to my mouth. He posted me. He called me his girl. That asshole. I hear my doorbell ring and I know who it is. I quickly get onto my feet and go to my door. I open it and there he is. My favorite flowers and food in hand. I look up at him and he seems like he can’t maintain eye contact but he does anyways.
“I’m so so so sorry that I hurt you. I’m sorry that I called you that. That was wrong. Very wrong of me. I don’t assume that you’re with me because I’m well me. I know that. I’ve been known that..just I fucked up because that’s what I do. I fuck up anything good in my life because I’m afraid of being hurt. You’re too good for me and I honestly don’t deserve you but, I posted you on my story so now you’re like kinda force to be with me anyways. I mean I’ll grovel if you want but, fuck I can’t let you go! I’m sorry and I love you! I mean…I think I love you more than you love me but-”
“Vincent!”
He blinks for the first time in 3 minutes. “Yeah?” “You should probably come inside before my food gets cold.” I smile softly at him. He lights up instantly and quickly makes his way inside. He sets the flowers and food down before turning to me. “I’m really sorry! We can go slow! We can start over and pretend this fight never happened like now we’re officially dating or something!” I run up and hug him. “Vinnie, we’re okay.” I kiss him quickly and his face follows mine as I lean away. “I mean…you’re gonna have to do some major groveling if you want to be my boyfriend again but I think we’re still dating.”
He smirks, “that’s fine by me.”
This was so trash but I’m sick and wanted to post something so :P
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jishyucks · 5 months
Text
Crayon Confessions – njm
‣ pairing: na jaemin x reader
‣ genre: fluff, f2l/co'workers'-to-lovers
‣ wc: 2.2k
‣ summary: You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids… and you guess, Jaemin. That would make it three, but he falls under that second category; alternatively, in which you weren’t really planning on developing feelings for Na Jaemin but seeing him work with kids all the time at the local community centre is making it damn hard not to.
‣ warnings: genuinely don't think there's anything, low-key rushed ending
‣ an: this is honestly not my best but FINALLY MY LAST PART OF THE SERIES IM CELEBRATING YIPEEEEEE—yes i know this is set in december and its now may but it's bc this was supposed to be posted during the holidays 😭 my dumbass overestimated my capabilities and school got in the way but all that matters is that i actually finished a 12 part series?? patting myself on the back,, ANYWAYS to those who actually followed my series I thank you so much. PLS ENJOY THIS! <33
Series Masterlist
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You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids. And within the past few months, Na Jaemin has been fighting his way to the top of that list despite (technically) fitting under that second category. 
The more time you spent with him, the more you were able to make out that Jaemin obviously wanted to make a name for himself rather than being lumped into a handful of men—and you didn’t like it.
You’ve only known the guy just shy of six months, having chosen to volunteer at the community centre since July, and he’s managed to shimmy his way into your life like it was his purpose. And it makes you angry because he was perfect—perhaps as perfect as the dozens of fictional men you’ve crushed on.
Only Jaemin wasn’t fictional. 
In fact, he was sitting two tables away from you, helping the kids spell out the words they needed to include in the holiday greetings cards. 
“You’re staring again.” 
Giselle presses her lips into a tight line to keep her laugh from bursting out. 
Your eyes widened, trying to recollect yourself when you realized that you were, in fact, staring at Jaemin, “Was I being obvious?” 
Giselle hums, tilting her head to muster up an answer, “Mm… a little?”
“Not a little. A lot.” 
You and Giselle turn to Lily, one of the kids you’ve both grown close to over the past few months. You raise a brow at her, “Aren’t you supposed to be making these cards?” 
Lily snickers and goes back to her given task of colouring a poorly printed Santa Claus. You turn back to Giselle, who’s already offering an apologetic look because kids are blunt. 
“Okay, you were more than a little bit obvious but that boy was too oblivious to notice,” she shrugs, “I think, at least.” Giselle taps the pile of finished cards against the table to line them all up before placing them again at the centre of the table.
You groan, tempted to bang your head against the shared table in front of you. “Please tell me you’re joking.” 
“I’m not,” Giselle snorts, “But I really don’t think he saw you. He’s too busy with the kids.” She nods her head in Jaemin’s direction and your eyes follow without a second thought.
The sight was one you’ve seen countless times yet it still makes you swoon every time you lay eyes on the scene. Jaemin’s perfect smile is etched on his face as he leans over one of the youngest kids, fixing the way the boy is holding the marker. The boy lets out a little giggle, reciprocating the smile on the elder’s face.
“Look away before you lose yourself again,” Giselle teases, using her index finger to turn your face away from Jaemin’s direction. Giselle immediately notices the way a look of sheepishness replaces your charmed expression. She pats your shoulder, almost coming in the form of a push, “I bet if you asked him out he would say yes.”
“I’ll only ask him out if I’m sure he likes me back,” you whisper. “I have literal receipts of clues that he does like you back,” Giselle threatens to pull her phone out despite your organizer discouraging the use of any devices during the shifts. 
You shake your head, head mentally raking through all the times you Jaemin had made you feel like sinking into the hard cold cement. “Those were just times I was overthinking everything… I’m sure he’s just naturally nice.”
“Well, he is naturally nice,” Giselle nods, “But you can’t tell me that all the things he’s done were done solely to be nice.” Giselle leans back on her chair and narrows her eyes at you, “He’s too old to be on Santa’s list anyway.” 
“I don’t consider holding the door open for me and bringing me hot chocolate that one time as clues.” 
One of the other little girls pushes an unfinished piece of paper and the small baby safety scissors your way. By reflex, you pick it up from where she started having trouble, snipping away the excess paper before handing it back for her to glue onto construction paper. 
“How about that one time he walked you home?”
“He said he was going to his grandma’s—” you counter.
“Could’ve been an excuse,” Giselle shrugs, “Real reason could be he wanted to spend time with you without having to ask for it.” 
“I was wrong. I think you’re the delusional one here,” you narrow your eyes and tap your feet against the floor underneath you. Jaemin was Jaemin. Soon after meeting him, you caught on to the fact that he was naturally playful, almost coming off as a flirt to everyone he encountered. 
“I’m not being delusional,” Giselle rolls her eyes and leans in closer to you so that whatever comes out of her mouth next can’t be heard by anyone around you, “Do you want me to list everything that’s happened between him and you over the past few months? ‘Cause you’re asking for it.”
You shake your head, already knowing which ones she’d list. Giselle already told you that if she could, she’d make a PowerPoint presentation of Top 10 Jaemin and Y/N Moments for fun, but you were lucky that she had been swamped in both school and volunteer work to even start it. 
“You’re acting like I’m not the one who’s told you these things,” you blink, “And like I said, any of them could be a product of delusion.” 
Giselle peeks over at you through the corners of her eyes and smirks, “Oh, but there are ones that you haven’t seen that I have…”
And just like that, Giselle has all of your attention. It’s like she’s grasping it with the tips of her fingers, playing with it to tease you. 
“Like?” You gesture for her to begin, not wanting to waste a single passing second.
Another kid at the table holds up her card for Giselle to see, “Miss Giselle, how does it look?” 
Giselle’s eyes light up and she smiles, “I love how you coloured the tree, Nari! Do you need help cutting it out?” 
Nari shakes her head, “I’ll try myself first.”
Giselle nods, “Sounds good to me!” Then once she’s sure that Nari is back and busy with the paper tree, she turns back to you, “Do you want it in chronological order?”
Your brows furrow, “It doesn’t matter to me.”
She hums and begins, “You know how you came when me and Jaemin have already been here for a little while?” 
You nod.
“Well, Jaemin, every single day since we both started, kept his things in that one corner locker. He told me once he hated the other lockers with a passion but never really told me why. It was actually hilarious because there was one shift when Jisung came earlier than he did and he snatched it before Jaemin and Jaemin told him off,” Giselle snorted, recalling the memory, “It was stupid. I remember telling Jaemin to let the boy be, but he was… territorial? I don’t know how to word it.” 
“Where are you going with this?” you say impatiently.
“I’m getting there,” she huffs, “Anyway, when you came, you were stuck with that one locker at the top, right?”
You nod again.
“I remember you kept complaining to me about hating the locker—”
“It was too high for me to even reach the hook!” You say.
“I know, but that’s beside the point,” Giselle laughs, “My point is the very next day, Jaemin came early for the shift and instead of taking that corner locker, he claimed that top locker despite his usual one being free. It’s been that way ever since. Now you always take that corner one.”
“And?”
“What do you mean ‘And?’” Giselle’s jaw drops, “Don’t you see? He was territorial over a damn locker and when you came along, he went out of his way to move lockers just because he saw you were struggling with the top one.” “He’s just being ni—”
“Do I need to remind you that Ningning, who’s shorter than you, literally complained about the same thing and he didn’t do shi—” Giselle catches herself from swearing, remembering the setting, “—Anything to help her?”
You don’t reply and Giselle takes this as a sign to continue, “Then, there have been those days you come to a shift tired because you’ve been awake since dawn because of your eight AMs, right?” You don’t do anything but blink and Giselle continues, “I’ve seen that man go out of his way to take up some of your harder tasks just so your shift is easier and you can relax. But when I come to the shifts tired and you’re not there and he is, he just laughs in my face!” 
You laugh because it just sounds like Giselle’s taking this as an opportunity to rant to you about her playful rivalry with Jaemin. 
“Don’t laugh! Can’t you see where I’m going with my examples?” she whines, “I know you’re smart, Y/N!”
You shake your head, “I need you to explain it more bluntly, Gi.” 
Giselle facepalms, a sigh flying out of her lips, “What I’m saying is that Jaemin pays attention to you more than you think… he treats you a hundred times better than any of us but, obviously, you’re too blind to see it because you’re still hung up on the idea that he’s just ‘being nice’.”
You swallow a pool of spit you didn’t even know was sitting in your mouth and you process your friend’s explanation. The idea of the possibility of Jaemin actually liking you back was something you thought about once in a while, but it was usually in your bed right before you went to sleep giggling. Never did these thoughts appear in broad daylight, much less with Jaemin sitting just yards away.
The thought tickles your stomach and you wanna say something to Giselle, though you’re unsure what. And before you could bring yourself to open your mouth, you felt a light tap against your shoulder.
“Miss Y/N?” 
You’re punted out of your thoughts when one of the little boys from Jaemin’s table appears to your left, entering your line of sight.
“Hi, Junnie! What’s up?” you bend down slightly at the waist, eyeing the card and the crayon he’s holding in his hand. 
He makes no effort to say anything else. Instead, he holds out the two items in his small hands, waiting for you to take them. When you gently do, he takes a step back, holding his arms behind his back to watch you read the card.
The front of the card was just a normal card, the greeting ‘Happy Holidays’ written on the front in a child’s handwriting in red and green crayon. Underneath the words was a Christmas tree, glued on there by, who you assumed was, Junnie. 
Then, when you open it, your heart skips a beat and a half. 
In crayon, in messy yet very cute writing you read: 
Are you a Christmas tree? 
Because I'm really pining fir you!
Dinner date?
“It’s from Mister Jaemin,” Junnie says from behind the card. He’s teetering on the balls of his feet, cheeks being pushed up by his smile.
Your heart is now pounding against your chest because it is all playing out perfectly, like how it would in a movie. With Giselle telling you things you’ve never noticed before, to you denying, and now Junnie was just sent by Jaemin to send you this cute little letter to confess to you—you’re not sure how to react.
“Oh, really?” you question.
“Really?” Giselle gasps from next to you. 
Your eyes immediately dart across the room and to the mentioned boy, who’s awfully pretending to busy himself with the scraps of paper littering the table.
“What’s your answer?” Junnie questions.
Embarrassingly, you don’t even hesitate to scribble down your answer underneath the question. Handing it back to Junnie, you wave for him to come closer and you bring your mouth up to his ear, “Can you help me play a small trick on Mister Jaemin?” 
Junnie nods, a mischievous smile appearing almost instantly on his face.
“When you go over there to give him this, I want you to pretend to be sad, okay? Make him think it’s not a yes.” 
Junnie struggles to contain his smile before nodding once more, then turns to make his way back to Jaemin.
You follow the young boy with your eyes, watching as he does his very best to maintain a poker face. You watch as Jaemin turns to him, a look of confusion surfacing his face when he sees that Junnie is not smiling like he had anticipated and you can’t help but snicker.
The moment Junnie’s within hearing vicinity, Jaemin says something to him that you obviously couldn’t hear. Junnie glances back at you and then reveals your answer to Jaemin and you know he’s done it the second Jaemin’s face lights up. 
You chuckle as Jaemin looks up at you, his face breaking into a wide smile. He waves at you shyly, like a bashful kid, before silently mouthing, "Tomorrow?"
You nod, warmth spreading across your cheeks. Giselle makes a comment over your shoulder but you don’t quite catch it, the cells in your body buzzing in excitement. 
Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.
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taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance
an: 12/12!! This was poorly proofread so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes but I wanted to finish this so I can work on other wips!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS,, THANK YOU!
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pedrospatch · 6 months
Text
wip wednesday
thank you for the tags angels 🤍 @mrsmando @honeyedmiller @mermaidgirl30 @gasolinerainbowpuddles @thelightsandtheroses
here are snippets of some of the many wips i am actively working on. or trying to anyway.
the gold room - dbf!joel x stripper!reader
“Jesus Christ.” Joel stares at you, using every last ounce of strength he has in his entire body not to let his gaze wander past your chin. He’s trying not to look at the way your skintight, neon pink dress hugs every soft, heavenly curve of your body, how the matching rhinestone garter shimmers around your deliciously plush thigh. “Is it even legal for you to be fuckin’ workin’ here?” Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms and shift your weight from one seven inch heel to the other.  “You can dance at eighteen,” you inform him. “And in case you’ve forgotten, I’m twenty one, Mr. Miller. So with all due respect, chill the fuck out, okay?” “You went to college—“ “College is fucking expensive,” you interject with a shrug. “The job market is shit and I don’t plan on drowning in my student debt for the next ten years. Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Don’t stand there and judge me. Don’t act like what I do is so terrible when you have been paying good fucking money for girls like me to dance for you and sit in your lap all night long.” “That’s fuckin’ different. None of those girls are my best friend’s daughter.”
flutter - post outbreak! joel x pregnant!reader
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the stove, you crack a couple eggs into another, knowing the kid was on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast. “Morning!” Ellie pipes, the plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you. “Ellie,” you warn, walking over to the table. “Don’t—” “You’re bigger!” With a playful glare, you set her plate down along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks, you little jerk,” you say, feigning offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.” “Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she starts to sputter. “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach—you didn’t look like this yesterday. You look great, just different.” She’s lucky your raging hormones decided to take the morning off.
chapter 10 for a safe haven
*this is just a short short snippet because it’s being heavily edited rn so i can post it soon!
He peels off his clothes, being careful not to further agitate his sore, inured hand. After changing into a pair of gray sweatpants and an old, faded black t-shirt, he turns around only to find you sitting in bed under the covers.
“Sorry,” you apologize with a nervous chuckle as you rest your back against the headboard. “It just looked so warm and cozy. I couldn’t resist making myself comfortable.”
Joel pads over to the side of the bed. He leans over, planting one hand on either side of you as he dips his head and brushes his lips against yours. “Ain’t got no reason to apologize, baby,” he assures you in a gentle murmur. “This is your bed now too, peach. This is your room. This is your home.”
np tags! 🤍 @sugarcoated-lame @ozarkthedog @amanitacowboy @sp00kymulderr @ilovepedro @ezrasbirdie and anyone else who’d like to share their wips!
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elfqueen006 · 6 months
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Kiss and Make Up
Sunny Day Jack x Reader
Tw: post argument (after that one Jack audio), toxiiic, manipulation, cunninglingus lemon, dub-conny to enthusiastic
There was a knock on your door. You flinched not experiencing the sudden interruption of your solitude. You were still winding down after your argument with down after your argument with your “best friend”. Admittedly though, this was another blip in a long history of “shut-downs”. You did it with your parents, your boss, and Ian. It’s nothing special, but it doesn’t get any easier to work through.
“Shaun?” You called out tentatively. But of course, who else should answer but Sunny Day Jack? When he opens the door you check his body language - knit-brows, tense shoulders, and a grimace. He’s still upset, but not as much as before. Not angry. Still, you probably weren’t helping with bringing up the man that you both were arguing about. It was a knee-jerk reaction on your part, mixed with hopefulness and a fleeting callousness – not uncommon for your moods. But you knew better. Shaun wasn’t coming back for a while, as he was away for a meeting in L.A. with his agent, Olivia.
One might think being in either position would be a dream of sorts. But all you know is your college buddy is a big time director doing movie things, while you’re left here to stave off the remnants of your frustration in your ghost clown situationship.
You pulled your legs up to your chest as Jack closed the door behind him before approaching you. Thankfully, it didn’t close all the way. That gave you a sliver of relief. You didn’t want to be in a closed space with him right now; not after before.
He sat at the foot of the bed. You scooted up the bed further to where you sat on the pillows, subtly grabbing the edges as if they could hold you, keep you safe, free from this tension.
Finally Jack asked, “Are you okay?”
No. “I’m alright.” you replied.
“You sure? You didn’t come out of your room for a few hours.”
This is what I do when people raise their voices at me. “I just needed some time to myself…”
Jack nodded and gave an understanding smile. You resisted a frown, because for once the gesture made you upset. He didn’t deserve to be concerned when he got you like this. He didn’t deserve to be understanding as if you going through this had nothing to do with him. You smiled back though, you had to. You wanted the worst to be over even if he was acting like it was just a little hurdle. You always got over it before.
The bed creaked, snapping you out of your thoughts as you noticed Jack had gotten closer to you. Like right beside you. Tilting his head, he raises his hand and puts it just inches to your face.
“May I?” He asked. What else can you do but let him? You nodded, letting his gloved hand brush your cheek coming up to your hair before twisting your curls between his thumb and forefinger.
Softly, he spoke your name. You look at him, and the weight in your chest gets heavier when you look at those doe eyes. Big, brown, and wide, and pretty. With his eyes you think he’s saying sorry. You think, but his mouth will say something entirely different.
“You know, I care about you a lot right?” he asked.
You nodded slowly in reply.
“So I expect the same in return. And it’s not your fault, I know you do your best with… Shaun around,” his voice took on a dark tone at the mention of your roommate. “But I just feel so neglected whenever he comes around,”
“He’s coming between us.”
“I don’t mean to make you feel that way. And if I have, I’m really sorry.” you replied, “It’s just hard… balancing you both.”
“I know, Sunshine.”
And he smiled as if to congratulate you on your apology. Truthfully, you didn’t know why you did it anyway. It just felt like the right thing to say; it felt correct. It wasn’t as if he were asking for one, but it’s not like you could take it back now. It felt worse to have him angry and disappointed. And even if it made you upset now, when he smiled at you it was like you could accomplish anything.
“We can fix it, right?”
“Of course. Hey,” He took hold of your chin, “No time like the present, right?”
“...Right.”
You had a bit of an inkling where this was heading when he pressed his lips onto yours. There wasn’t going to be an I’m sorry to placate this. Soft skin moved together rhythmically in a sensual kiss. Jack slipped his tongue inside and against yours, licking your wet muscle, and you found yourself eagerly returning the gesture. When there was an opportunity to taste Jack again, you sure would take it. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Jack pulled you up upon his lap and held you by your waist. You began to feel his excitement through his pants, promptly rolling your hips against him to get friction. He pulled away, leaving a line of spit between you.
Though you whined when the kiss was broken, you let him ease you down onto the pillow behind you. Jack chuckled softly, “You have to be patient. Be patient for me. Can you do that?”
Fuck that. The primal part of you didn’t want to wait, it was just focused on chasing that high Jack provided. But as you were about to protest, a haze took over your mind, sedating you, making you pliant to whatever was coming. The ache was still there, but it didn’t burn as strongly.
“Okay,” you breathed out.
Jack ran his thumb over your cheek again before leaning down to kiss it. He kissed up your ear, nibbling on the lobe. The action made you squirm. Jack smirked at your reaction before working his way down to your neck. He suckled on the skin to ensure the hickies would be there come morning. It wouldn’t be enough though. He wanted to mark you all over.
He raised up your hoodie and shirt over your chest. He undid the bra remaining there and tossed it over the bed. A shaky sigh passed through your lips when closed his lips around your nipple. All the while, he worked your other breast with his free hand, kneading the flesh under his palm and fingers.
Jack grazed his teeth over your nipple, humming in satisfaction when you moaned. One of your legs propped on his hip for leverage as you subconsciously rocked your hips up to the air, desperate to feel something – anything. His ego was living for all of it. No matter what he did, he knew he could make you melt under his touch. 
He truthfully did feel sorrowful for what he’d said earlier. 
“Goddammit Sunshine! You are impossible! I do everything right!” he spat. You hurriedly stepped back with wide eyes but he stalked closer towards you. You had to hear this and really see how he was in turmoil over you. He cared so much for you and still does. He deserved your attention more than anyone right now. But here you were, worrying about whether or not your roommate was faring well in L.A. though he’d updated you over the course of the month too many times for him to count!
When you retreated into your room he was still fuming. But after a while he got worried and had begun to feel like he pushed you too far. It was a spur of the moment reaction after all. Maybe he should have taken the time to evaluate what he could’ve said before lashing out like that. But it was done, and no matter what the after effects had been, he would always make a point to have your best interests in mind.
He pulled his lips off of your breast with a pop and moved down to your pelvis. He took your pants off, pleasantly surprised to find you without panties. Your cheeks burned when he shot you an amused smirk.
“If I didn’t know any better… I’d say you planned for me to eventually find you like this.” Your skin trembled as he rubbed circles on your inner thigh. “It’d be poor form outside the house. Why, you never know who’s looking at your sweet body.”
Your breath hitched when he kissed your mound.
“It’s fine here though. Because it’s all for me.”
The lave of his tongue sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. Skillfully he ate you out, making you arch against his painted face. You gripped the sheets beneath to keep you leveraged while you followed the rhythm of his licks. Jack grabbed you under the thighs and pulled you close to delve his tongue into your entrance. 
Your mouth dropped in a silent Oh. How long was that thing anyway?
Jack watched you writhe from below, savoring every pleasured shift in expression. Your eyes and nose scrunched tight, the smallest hints of flushed red skin on your face, and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. When all of this was for him, he could say with no ego, he was your greatest lover.
You reached out to grab him by his hair, but he was way ahead of you, pulling your lower body up as he stood on his knees continuing to pleasure you. Your upper half still lie on the bed, with you desperately grabbing whatever was beneath to keep you grounded.
“Oh, please!” you cried.
Jack paused in his actions but didn’t move his mouth from your labia. “Please…what?”
“Let me cum!”
You felt the twitch of his lips against your lower ones.
“On one condition… you don’t talk about Shaun the whole month he’s away…”
“...huh?”
Was he still on that? You’d long since forgotten with the way he was ruining you like this. You’d always be concerned for Shaun no matter how far he is… but thinking about it now, it seemed like such a silly thing to get in a dispute over. Shaun was a grown man. And you had to stop relying on his companionship, and focus on the one giving you the best head of your life.
“Yes. Yes, whatever you want!” you huffed.
Your high had ridden down, but Jack’s artful tongue only took a few more strokes to get you to climax. He’d have you all to himself now, with no outside influence or thoughts to get in the way.
----
🎵all of this looove is... Toxic~ all these kisses and hugs is...not shit🎵 anywaaay~ hope y'all enjoyed! It's my first day back from spring break making this. not too shabby if I do say so myself!
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genshinluvr · 1 year
Text
To be Reborn
Pairings: Various Honkai Star Rail Men x Vidyadhara!Isekai'd!Reader (Reincarnation AU)
Summary: Waking up in Scalegorge Waterscape, you have no recollection of your past life. You are reborn— you are a Vidyadhara— hatched from an egg. A young blond boy awaits your rebirth, the same boy who volunteers to be your protector. Your past life remains a mystery. Your relationship with three particular men remains a mystery as they gaze at you longingly from a distance. Sometimes, it's a curse to be reborn.
Note: Before any of y'all come at me, the relationship between Yanqing and the reader is strictly platonic. Imagine a protective little brother. I'm glad I was able to type this out and get it posted because this idea has been on my mind for a little bit. So, did anyone get Dan Heng IL? :3 I got him with one pull, and that makes me happy and relieved. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).
Warnings: Mentions of murder, mentions of blood, Nanook doesn't make an appearance in this fic :<
Word Count: 4.3k
You’re floating in the sea of darkness, floating around aimlessly. You can’t tell if your eyes are open or if they’re closed. You can’t move your arms or legs, and you feel like you’re underwater. The sounds around you are muffled, making it seem like you’re underwater. You have no recollection of how you ended up in this situation. Your mind is blank; no memories are rushing back to you. Your brain is a blank slate— the only thing you can recall is your name, and that’s it. Everything else? You have no memories of it.
Your ears twitch at the sound of faint cracking around you. Light gradually breaks through the endless darkness. The cracking gets louder and louder, and before you know it, the world around you is flooded with brightness, and you fall to the ground. Well, you land on top of someone. You open your eyes to see bright gold eyes staring at you with awe and worry.
“Are you okay?” The young blond boy asks, helping you up from the ground.
You rub your head and look around, dazed and confused. “Yes. I’m fine, thank you,” you reply hesitantly.
You notice a giant egg resting beside you, cracked eggshells on the ground and on your clothes. Did you come from that egg? You look at the young boy, who notices your confusion almost immediately. The blond boy smiles and rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks turning bright pink.
“I hope you don’t mind me waiting here for you to hatch. General Jing Yuan has spoken about you many times, and I wanted to meet you myself,” says the young boy.
General Jing Yuan? The young boy continues to ramble while you stare at him cluelessly, scanning your surroundings. This place… it feels familiar, but you don’t remember anything. You shake your head and rub your throbbing temples, sighing. 
“Oh, I almost forgot to introduce myself! My name is Yanqing! I am General Jing Yuan’s retainer! I hope you don’t mind me being the first person you meet after being rebirthed,” says Yanqing, smiling at you sweetly.
You have many questions to ask, but it seems like your questions will be unanswered for the time being. Which you don’t mind. However, what bothers you is your lack of memory. Yanqing tilts his head to the side, gazing at you worriedly.
You snap out of your stupor and smile at Yanqing. “It’s nice to meet you, Yanqing. My name’s—”
“[Y/N], I know your name already because General Jing Yuan would go on and on about you,” Yanqing nods, smiling at you boyishly.
Cute. You want to pinch Yanqing’s cheeks until he smacks your hand away from his face. You smile at Yanqing, still confused about how he knows your name. Yanqing’s smile slips off his face when the realization hits him.
You brush off the look he’s giving you and point at the egg. “How long were you waiting for me to be reincarnated?”
Yanqing looks away, rubbing the back of his neck while giggling awkwardly. You cross your arms over your chest, gazing at Yanqing with amusement. Yanqing is like an adorable little brother who’s attached to his older siblings and is protective of them, but he doesn’t want to show it because he doesn’t want to be teased for it.
“Not long, but I would come here every day to check up on you,” Yanqing mutters, kicking a pebble close by and watching it clatter on the ground. 
You press your lips into a thin line and pat Yanqing’s head. Yanqing silently fumes and turns away with a small huff, crossing his arms over his chest while puffing his cheeks out. You snicker and pull your hand back, sitting on the ground beside the egg you emerged from. 
Yanqing sits beside you, looking at you curiously. “Do you really not have any recollection of your past memories?” Yanqing asks.
You shake your head. “No, I don’t have any of my past memories, Yanqing. Am I supposed to?”
Yanqing exhales slowly and leans back on his arms, kicking his feet back and forth as he debates on what to say. You’re a long-life species with draconic features— a Vidyadhara. Your hair cascades down your back as your tail sways behind you. Your tail and horns are a light pink, almost pastel pink. You look breathtaking, even more breathtaking compared to how General Jing Yuan described you.
You turn to look at the young boy beside you, who blinks at you before turning away. Yanqing hums and nods.
“Yes, you’re supposed to remember your past lives when you reincarnate. Many long-life species remember their past lives and their past lovers,” Yangqing says nonchalantly.
It must be nice to be able to remember your past lives and people in your past. Why is it different for you? How come you’re the only person (well, you’re assuming you’re the only person) who doesn’t remember their past life despite being reincarnated? Maybe you’re the odd one out.
“That’s unfortunate for me. I don’t remember my past life. I only know my name,” you sigh, leaning against the hollow egg you emerged from. 
Yanqing hums, tapping on his chin. “Maybe General Jing Yuan can help you recover your memories!” Yanqing says.
You pucker your lips and hug your legs. It’d be nice to have someone help you “regain” your memories, but their memories will be different from your past memories. Then again, what do you know? You only remember your name, and from what Yanqing has told you, it sounds like you and this General Jing Yuan person have some kind of history with each other.
Your conversation with Yanqing was cut short when both of you heard footsteps approaching your direction. You and Yanqing get off the ground and turn to see a large group of people standing before you two. The four men look at you with wide eyes. You couldn’t help but notice they all have long hair, aside from the others in the group accompanying the four men.
“[Y/N]...” The man with long black hair whispers.
He, too, has horns sprouting from the top of his head. You look at Yanqing, who glares at the four men before standing in front of you as if he’s protecting you from the four newcomers and their guests. The man with white hair smiles at you and Yanqing ruefully. You place your hand on Yanqing’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile when he turns to look at you.
Despite giving Yanqing a reassuring smile, Yanqing continues to keep his guard up, glaring at the four men before him. You sigh and cross your arms over your chest, looking away from the four men. Everything to you is a mystery. Your past, the four men standing before you and Yanqing, your history with this General Jing Yuan person.
The white-haired man narrows his eyes at Yanqing. “Am I missing something, Yanqing?” the white-haired man asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
The man with long, dark hair chuckles bitterly. “It seems like your lapdog is protective of [Y/N],” he says, his red eyes landing on you.
Yanqing growls and holds his sword in front of him. You can’t help but stare at the ground, drowning out the sounds and voices around you. There are whispers in your head, whispers that are loud enough for you to assume it’s all around you. You bite the inside of your cheek, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to listen closely. The whispers are not only loud, but they’re incoherent. You can’t understand what the voices are saying, and it bothers you. Why are the voices loud yet quiet at the same time? You subconsciously reach your temples, rubbing them as a headache forms. 
“[Y/N]?” 
You snap out of your stupor and look up to see the four mysterious men (and Yanqing and the other guests) gazing at you worriedly. You blink and sigh, shoulders slumping. Could the voices be from your past life? Whatever the voices are, it’s causing you nothing but confusion and frustration. How long have you been spacing out?
The blond man looks at you worriedly. “What’s the matter? You look frustrated,” says the blond man.
You give him a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m fine,” you reply hesitantly.
The man with horns raises his eyebrows at you, looking at you worriedly. You’re not entirely comfortable with telling these men your situation. While they know your name, you don’t know theirs. Yanqing moves closer to you, whispering into your ears and telling you each of the men’s names.
“I don’t have much recollection of my past life, but I heard you all know me. Or I knew all of you,” you say nervously while playing with the billowing sleeves of your hanfu. 
The white-haired man— also known as General Jing Yuan— nods and gestures for you and Yanqing to follow him and the other three men beside him. The pink-haired girl steps forward, smiling at you while shaking her legs nervously.
The pink-haired girl clears her throat nervously. “You may not know me, but my name is March 7th! But you can call me March! These two are Caelus and Welt Yang,” says March, gesturing to the older man with brown hair and glasses and the silver-haired man standing beside him.
You smile at the trio before walking ahead with Yanqing sticking by your side. You look around in awe. The more you walk further out of this place, the more you see things you have never seen before. Well, you probably did in the past, but everything is new to you. 
Yanqing gently nudges you, glancing over at you. “What’s on your mind?”
“This place is hauntingly beautiful. Where are we, Yanqing?” You ask, passively looking at the other Vidyadhara eggs as you and Yanqing walk by.
How long have you been in the egg you have hatched from? The young boy beside you smiles at you and crosses his arms over his chest. You may have known Yanqing for less than an hour, but Yanqing can’t help but pride himself in being the first person you trust. Unlike the four particular men— well, three men, but he digresss— who have been anticipating your reincarnation.
“We are currently leaving the Scalegorge Waterscape! If you have any questions, I will be happy to answer them!” Yanqing announces proudly, propping his hands on his hips.
You smile and pat Yanqing’s head as he leads you out of Scalegorge Waterscape with the others following behind. Scalegorge Waterscape is like another world to you— a secret world only certain people are allowed to know of its existence. 
You hum softly. “How much do you know about my past life, Yanqing? You mentioned how General Jing Yuan would go on and on about me. What has he told you about me?” You ask, crossing your arms over his chest.
That piqued the three Xianzhou men’s interest and curiosity while General Jing Yuan’s smile slipped off his face. General Jing Yuan clears his throat as he slowly picks up his pace to catch up to you and Yanqing. Mostly Yanqing. Yanqing taps on his chin as he racks his brain, trying to recall what the white-haired General said about you.
Yanqing’s eyes light up. “Ah! I remember! There’s this drink on the Xianzhou Luofu, and it’s incredibly sweet. Whenever General Jing Yuan sees someone drinking it at the Seat of Divine Foresight, the General would be like, ‘I remember the time when [Y/N] would sneak out at night and buy Immortals Delight with Dan Feng. They were caught in the act by not only myself but by Yingxing as well,’” Yanqing says, mocking the white-haired General’s voice.
‘Immortals Delight?’ you mouthed to yourself, trying to remember what the drink looked like and what it tasted like for your past self to be obsessed with the drink to the point where you and this Dan Feng person had to sneak out and buy it. Yanqing continues to rack through his memories before smiling widely.
“The General would also talk about how the blooming flowers remind him of—” A hand quickly covers Yanqing’s mouth, shutting the young boy up before he can continue.
You stop in your tracks and look to see General Jing Yuan covering the blond boy’s mouth with his hand. You and General Jing Yuan lock eyes for a moment while Yanqing thrashes around in General Jing Yuan’s grasp, trying to remove the General’s hands from his face. You press your lips into a thin line and cover your mouth with your hands to muffle your laugh.
Mr. Yang smiles and looks at Caelus and March, chuckling. “It looks like the General has fond memories of [Y/N],” says the brown-haired man.
Caelus snorts. “Yeah, very fond memories of [Y/N],” Caelus chuckles.
After some time, General Jing Yuan releases Yanqing. Yanqing huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at the white-haired General before scrambling over to you. Yanqing throws your arm around his shoulders, catching the others by surprise. You chuckle, and pat Yanqing’s head before the two of you continue your way toward the main entrance of Scalegorge Waterscape. While walking up the steps, Yanqing turns to look at the other four men— specifically Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, General Jing Yuan, and Blade— before sticking his tongue out at them and turning back around to start a conversation with you.
“I think it’s weird how, allegedly, long-life species remember their past lives, but [Y/N] doesn’t remember theirs,” the indigo-haired man says, propping his hands on his hips.
The blond man in armor rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s not ‘allegedly’ when there’s plenty of evidence about it, Sampo,” the blond man says.
Once you all arrive at the entrance of Scalegorge Waterscape, you turn to the others before scanning the surroundings once more. You don’t think you will be returning to Scalegorge Waterscape, or at least not in the near future. 
A man with his hair in a half-ponytail speaks up, “Why do you look glum?”
You blink at him and the other unfamiliar faces. Caelus slaps his forehead before introducing you to the three extra people you weren’t introduced to— Sampo, Gepard, and Luka. The two men, Gepard and Luka, smile at you politely. At the same time, Sampo magically pulls a comb out of thin air, combing his hair before strutting toward you. However, before Sampo can reach you, Yanqing stands in front of you, pointing the tip of his sword in Sampo’s direction with a murderous glare.
“I wouldn’t get any closer if I were you,” Yanqing hisses.
Sampo holds his hands up. “Whoa there, little guy! I mean no harm!” Sampo says, smiling at Yanqing nervously. 
Yanqing glowers at the nickname Sampo gave him before looking at the white-haired General.  General Jing Yuan chuckles, walking toward you, Yanqing, and Sampo. General Jing Yuan stands behind you and Yanqing, placing both hands on your and Yanqing’s shoulders while smiling politely at Sampo. On the surface, General Jing Yuan is calm. Still, on a deeper level, the white-haired General is mildly annoyed with the indigo-haired merchant.
General Jing Yuan clears his throat. “Yanqing, stand down. There’s no need for hostility. We’re all friends here, are we not?” asks the General.
Yanqing makes a dissatisfied noise before putting his sword away. Yanqing continues to glare at Sampo, propping his hands on his hips before pointing his index finger at the man.
Yanqing demands, “What were your intentions with [Y/N] when you approached them?”
You look at Yanqing, surprised. You look at Sampo and smile at him before patting Yanqing’s shoulders. Yanqing doesn’t budge and continues to glare at Sampo. You sigh in defeat and look at General Jing Yuan, who’s already staring at you. You visibly wince with surprise before quickly looking away from him, your cheeks getting hot while the General chuckles. 
“I see the General’s feelings for [Y/N] have yet disappeared,” Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae murmurs beside Blade, crossing his arms over his chest while watching the scene unfold.
Blade huffs beside Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at the horned man beside him. “I could say the same thing for you,” Blade says nonchalantly.
Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae ignores the look Blade is giving him, acting like he doesn’t feel or notice an obvious stare from the dark-haired man. Yanqing grumbles to himself before tugging on your arm and pulling you away from the group. You find yourself standing at the docks, doing what you have been doing since you hatched from your egg— look at your surroundings. It bothers you how familiar this place feels, but you can’t remember why.
“Ahem. Care to tell what’s been bothering you?” Luocha asks, now standing beside you as he gazes at the horizon.
Your gaze falls to the ground, feeling the sand beneath your shoes. You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and tap your fingers on your biceps, debating whether you should tell them what’s on your mind. As much as you wanted to say to them what was wrong, you’re sure the others already knew the issue. 
You look up at Luocha, who stares at you intently with his sparkling green eyes. You look at the sun setting on the horizon, shoulders slumping as you cross your arms over your chest. It almost feels inappropriate to tell someone your problems, especially when you met them not long ago after being reborn. 
“Is there a reason why I’m unable to remember my past life? I find it strange that I’m the only one who can’t remember their past life after being reborn,” you sigh, rubbing your temples.
Everyone looks at Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae, General Jing Yuan, and Blade. The three men look just as clueless as the rest. You sigh and smile at them ruefully, waving your hand in front of you while shaking your head.
You sigh, “You know what? Forget I asked that question. Maybe there’s a reason why I don’t remember my past life, and perhaps it’s for the best.” Realization soon kicks in. You turn to the audience behind you and Luocha (and Yanqing), eyebrows furrowing with confusion. “Now that I am reborn, where do I go from here?”
Caelus looks at you questionably. “Care to elaborate on that for the rest of us?” Caelus asks, propping his hands on his hips.
“Do I return to the Xianzhou Luofu, or do I go elsewhere? I don’t have a home per se,” you reply, playing with the billowing sleeves of your hanfu. “This is a new and strange concept for me— not remembering my past life and questioning if I belong on the Xianzhou Luofu.”
The rebirth cycle of a Vidyadhara is something you have never experienced. At least, that’s what you assume. The waves crashing on shore are almost deafening, loud enough to keep you semi-occupied from your thoughts. What did you do to deserve to be put in this situation?
Mr. Yang hums, stroking his chin. “Well, you are always welcome to the Astral Express,” says Mr. Yang.
You look at the brown-haired man curiously. The Astral Express, huh? Sounds like you will be going on lots of adventures if you board the Express. It does sound better than doing nothing on the Xianzhou Luofu, especially when you don’t have a place called home. March’s eyes light up, and she runs toward you, linking her arms around yours. For a brief moment, a flash of panic can be seen in Yanqing’s eyes as he reaches forward, ready to pull March away from you. 
What stopped Yanqing from doing so was General Jing Yuan grabbing the young boy by the shoulders and shaking his head. Yanqing huffs and crosses his arms over his chest, grumbling while kicking a pebble close to his feet. March caught you off guard when she linked her arms around yours. You didn’t expect her to be bold enough to touch you (mainly because Yanqing would cut anyone who tried to touch you).
You hum, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “I might consider it, but I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb,” you murmur, pointing to the horns on your head.
You know Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae has horns as well, but he can at least hide his appearance and present himself as a human like the others. You, on the other hand, don’t know if you can do the same. However, having horns and draconic features shouldn’t be a big deal other than dealing with the looks of curiosity from strangers and awkward stares when you make eye contact with the person.
Luka raises his hand to grab your attention. “I have a question. Since Dan Heng can change his appearance, can you change yours as well?” Luka asks, gesturing to the horns on your head.
You subconsciously touch your horns and chew the inside of your cheek. “I’m not sure, Luka. Even if I can’t hide my horns and draconic features, it’s no big deal,” you reply, smiling at the now-blushing man.
You and the others got on the boat to return to the Alchemy Commission. Despite reincarnating and not remembering your past life before being reborn, the Alchemy Commission feels almost as familiar as Scalegorge Waterscape. Although, you can’t help but feel grim when arriving at the Alchemy Commission. 
“Does anything feel familiar by any chance?” Gepard asks, walking beside you.
You nod hesitantly. “The Alchemy Commission feels familiar, but I don’t think it’s a good thing. I can’t help but feel uncomfortable,” you reply, subconsciously rubbing your chest while looking around.
Aside from the Mara-struck roaming around the area, the Alchemy Commission looks eerie and empty. Unbeknownst to you and the others not of the Xianzhou faction, something tragic happened to you before your rebirth. Everyone is standing on the ground where you were ambushed and brutally murdered by someone you once trusted. You were lured to the farthest part of the Alchemy Commission, ambushed, and killed by someone you used to consider a friend. By the time Dan Feng (now Dan Heng), General Jing Yuan, and Yingxing arrived at the scene, they were too late. Stricken with anguish, Yingxing, General Jing Yuan, and Dan Feng tracked down your attackers and killed them all. 
They remember clutching your lifeless body in their arms, trying to stop the bleeding despite you being dead at the scene. Your clothes are torn and bloodied, your hair matted with blood, and your skin stained with your own blood. The three men remember the giant gaping hole where your heart was supposed to be— crimson blood pooling around you on the concrete as you stare up at the three grief-stricken men with lifeless eyes. Perhaps it’s best for you to remain oblivious of your past. It’s better that way, no matter how much it hurts the three men who hold you close and dear to their hearts.
General Jing Yuan places his hand on your shoulder. “Wherever you choose to stay— be it the Xianzhou Luofu or the Astral Express, you are always welcome to the Xianzhou Luofu,” says General Jing Yuan.
You smile at the white-haired General. “Thank you, General Jing Yuan,” you whisper.
You stop in front of the Aureate Elixir Furnace, staring at the large crucible with curiosity. You hear whispers around you. You look at the people standing around you, wondering if any of them said anything. But none of them were speaking. They’re surveying the area, not saying a word. 
“How strange,” you rub the back of your neck before crossing your arms over your chest.
You close your eyes and focus on the voice in the back of your head. The voices don’t belong to you, but the voices sound very angry and sad. The voices are gradually getting louder and louder. You squeeze your eyes shut and duck your head low, your hair falling over your face. 
The voice whispers, “We shall reunite one day, [Y/N]. You cannot escape your fate.”
Fate? What’s your fate? Are you in danger by any chance? Could the voices be connected to your past, or does the voice belong to something or someone seeking possible revenge on you?
“Are you alright, [Y/N]?” Blade puts his hands on your shoulders, startling you.
You look up at Blade like a deer caught in headlights. You gulp and smile at him nervously, trying to act normal. 
“Yeah! I’m alright! I’m trying to recall my past life, that’s all,” you lie.
Blade and Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae look at you worriedly as you turn to Yanqing, who approaches you with a worried look. Great, more people to worry about you. Yanqing stands beside you and stares at Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae and Blade cautiously before turning to you.
Yanqing holds his arm out for you to take. “Are you hungry? If so, I know a few places on the Xianzhou Luofu that have amazing food,” Yanqing says, giving you a closed-eyed smile.
You smile at Yanqing and loop your arms around his arm. “I am feeling a bit famished,” you murmur.
Yanqing hums thoughtfully, tapping on his chin as he pulls you away from Blade and Dan Heng Imbibitor Lunae. While Yanqing is listing out the food on the menu of the restaurant he passively mentioned, the group behind you follows closely. 
Luocha looks at General Jing Yuan from the corner of his eyes. “You saw that, right?” Luocha mutters.
General Jing Yuan hums, nodding. “Indeed, I did.”
While your past life will be a mystery to you, the voices in your head seem to not want you to live your new life in peace. Whether the voices in your head are from the voices of those in your past life or are trying to warn you, there’s a strange feeling deep down in your gut, and you can’t put your fingers on it. Whatever it is, it will have to wait.
Note: I know a Vidyadhara has many features, but I like the draconic features. Therefore the reader has draconic features. Oh, and the color of the reader's horns... I couldn't come up with a color, so I chose a random color. If you're not a huge fan of the color I chose, change it to whatever color you desire. It's 5 AM, and I need to sleep, so I hope you guys like this story-ish. I won't be posting any fics for this upcoming week, so keep that in mind. Anyway, to my new and/or returning readers, please keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!
Taglist for the HSR one-shot series: @ashwasherelol, @mompt2, @elegantnightblaze, @lunavixia, @jadedist, @reversearrowhead, @pinksaiyans, @aurelia-xyt, @lilliansstuff, @starrry-angel, @kaoyamamegami, @kodzuvk, @for3very0urs, @a-cosmicdawn, @g3n0dtt, @theblades, @wntrsblvd, @raaawwwr, @immahuman, @irisxiel, @siaracarroll, @crazydreamcat, @sen-nes, @sagekun, @orichalcumthief, @dyingsweetmackerel, @rosiesareblue, @ichikanu, @undecidingfate, @asoulsreverie, @angelmican, @misdollface, @4-34-am, @sxftiebee, @hispasian-otaku, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @vox34, @tsukkikeisimp, @inapileofbooke
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1K notes · View notes
itaerae · 1 year
Text
no kisses, hyung — k. gyuvin
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pairing: bf!gyuvin x reader
synopsis: babysitting gyuvin’s younger brother was always a task you adored, but sometimes he doesn’t want to share his babysitter. so what happens when your boyfriend just wants a kiss ?
word count: 0.6k
warnings: none ! (not proofread)
authors notes: sorry i took so long to post this, i was so tired i took a phat nap and forgot to post it 😿 but anyway, happy reading loves ! ⟡
“(name) !” you heard a little child’s squeal coming toward you as you entered the apartment of your lovely boyfriend. in a matter of seconds, the padded footsteps got louder and a chubby toddler appeared in front of your feet. you picked him up almost instantly.
“hey little man !” you cooed, twirling him around in your arms, enjoying the sound of laughter radiating from the small toddler. you hadn’t even noticed the presence of your boyfriend, who was watching you play around with his younger brother with a big grin.
“hey, your lovely, wonderful, gorgeous boyfriend is here too, you know ?” he popped up from behind, wriggling his eyebrows, emitting a giggle from the little one who was now rested on your hip.
“oh sorry i forgot.” you chuckled, earning an annoyed expression from gyuvin.
“haha, very funny (name). now c’mere and give me a kiss, i’ve been waiting dor you all day !” just before he could lean in and peck your lips, a chubby hand came in between the both of you. confused, you both looked up to see the toddler crossing his arms with a pout on his lips.
“no kisses, hyung ! (name) is my babysitter !” he whined, giving an angry expression at his older brother. you bursted into a laughing fit when you saw the face gyuvin was now sporting. gyuvin raised his eyebrows.
“but i’m dating (name), i’m allowed to kiss them.” he stuck out his tongue to tease the younger. you shook your head.
“nuh uh, technically i was your brother’s babysitter first !’” he shot you a look of offense and betrayal.
“you’re joking.” gyuvin sneered. his brother giggled and high-fived you.
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“gyuvin-ah, you wanna help us make cookies ?” you yelled over to where your boyfriend was sitting on the couch. he pretended to ponder.
“hm, depends. will i receive love and affection?” he asked, now standing in the doorway, crossing his arms.
“i don’t see why not. so you can start by getting the bowls from the top cabinet because i can’t reach !” he stifled a laugh making you sneer at him.
“anything for my shortie, but can i get a kiss now ?” he asked, bending down to reach for your face. before you could answer, a hand was now tugging the hem of your pant leg.
“no kisses, hyung ! let’s make the cookies now (name) !” his younger brother dragged you away to the other side of the kitchen before gyuvin had the time to react.
he grumbled something under his breath, side eyeing the child while passing you the bowl that you needed. you just giggled at his brothers antics, looks like he didn’t feel like sharing today.
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“okay little bro, go wash your hands now. the cookies will be done in a few, make sure you wash them for at least 5 minutes !” gyuvin snickered at his evil little plan.
“okay hyung !” the unsuspecting toddler proceeded to skip his his way to the bathroom.
you chuckled and rolled your eyes, “what a low blow, gyuvin-ah.” he pouted in return, but quickly replaced it with a grin.
“well, now that he’s gone, i can finally have you all to myself !” he laughed evilly. and for the third time today, he leaned again.
only to be interrupted by the scolding of the child from down the hall. “gyuvin hyung i can still see you, get away from (name) !”
“awh come on !” gyuvin complained, throwing his hands in defeat. you giggled.
“looks like no kisses for you today, mister.”
taglist: @kpoprhia , @wonswife
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firehose118 · 4 months
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anyway i started writing a qpr buddie/bucktommy post-s7 fic that i may or may not finish but that's what sparked this meta. here's part of a scene from that fic with the same idea:
“Look, man…” Eddie trails off but Tommy waits as he gathers his thoughts. “I don’t know what this is. I don’t- I don’t think I’m into Buck. Not… the same way you are, anyway. But I really like this. I think I need this. I need him.” Tommy brings a hand up to cup Eddie’s face and shit, that feels nice too. “I know you do. I don’t mind, I promise. You’re not a burden. We’re not just putting up with you. We want you here, okay? We care about you. We both do.” He keeps Eddie in place as he presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “You got that?” Eddie nods. “Thank you.” “Of course,” Tommy says, like this is the most normal situation in the world. Then his eyebrows furrow and he gets serious. “Eddie, real life doesn’t look the way we were brought up to believe it does. It’s not neat and clean and one-size-fits-all. It’s weird and messy, and every attempt to force ourselves to fit the mold we think we’re supposed to just makes us miserable. Trust me: I dated women until I was thirty, even though I knew pretty early on that I couldn’t be happy with them. I kept trying because that’s what I thought I was supposed to want; what I needed to do to be accepted. For so long I felt broken, and I kept hoping I could find a woman who would fix me. Eventually, I had to just be honest with myself.” The and so do you goes unspoken, but Eddie hears it anyway. Tommy doesn’t bullshit and he also doesn’t pull any punches. Eddie feels like he’s been hit in the throat and he can barely breathe.
“Do you think I’m gay?” Eddie asks in a small voice.
For a moment, Tommy just looks at him; sympathetic but not pitying. Steadying, somehow. The look of someone who has been where Eddie is now and knows exactly how difficult the journey forward is going to be.
“That’s not a question I can answer for you,” Tommy says as he strokes his thumb along Eddie’s cheekbone. “But I do think your attempts at unquestioned heterosexuality are making you miserable. I think you need to sit down with yourself, maybe with a therapist, and really think about your own truth. Do you like women? Do you like men? Do you like both? Or neither? When have you experienced genuine attraction? What does that feel like for you? What does a happy life look like to you? Strip away all the notions you have about what you’re supposed to do, what you’re supposed to feel. What do you want, really?”
Eddie doesn’t have an answer to a single one of those questions. Standing in his best friend’s boyfriend’s house, his best friend’s boyfriend—his friend—cupping his face, his body warm and loose from hours of cuddling with both of them, Eddie feels so unrecognizable to himself.
He likes this. It’s comfortable with Buck and Tommy; far more so than the intimacy he’d forced himself to have with his last two girlfriends. Never, ever in his adult life—not since he was fourteen years old and blushing at Shannon for the first time—has he ever considered finding intimacy in anyone other than a mother for his son.
But he likes this.
How well does Eddie know himself, really? Who is Eddie, outside of fatherhood? Who is Eddie, outside of the expectations he was raised with? The expectations he has clung to like a too-small piece of driftwood in the terrifying churning seas of life, because it’s been easier than letting the waves take him. Expectations he doesn’t want to let go of even now.
But he has to. He has to do something because his son is gone. His son left him voluntarily because of a mess that Eddie has no one to blame for but himself; a mess no one can clean up but himself. A mess that Eddie allowed to accumulate because he is in denial about something. He just doesn’t know what.
It would be so easy to lay it all at Shannon’s feet; to say he’s a wreck because Shannon wanted a divorce and died and he never allowed himself to truly accept the first as he grappled with the pain of the second. But if Eddie is honest, he knows there’s more going on than that.
He feels his eyes fill with tears as the driftwood floats away and the saltwater engulfs him.
“I don’t know,” Eddie admits. “I don’t know how to be happy.”
Tommy makes a small noise and folds Eddie into his chest; holds him while he cries. His arms are strong and big around Eddie—safe. It’s not the same way Buck makes him feel safe, not known and understood and loved to the core, but he feels safe nonetheless. Sturdy. Held.
“It’s okay,” Tommy assures him. “You don’t have to know right now. But you do need to stop forcing yourself to date people you don’t want to. You do need to think about what you want. And we’ll be here for you while you do. I wish I could tell you it’s not going to hurt, but it is. Lean on us for anything you need. Trust us to hold you up.”
Despite everything, Eddie does.
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skiller0dani · 3 months
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Going Home | Eleven
M A S T E R L I S T Doctor Who Masterlist
smut requests info w.c | 7k summary | you go home for a quick visit, and The Doctor leaves when he promised he was going to stay.
Welcome to my secret archive! This is a personal favorite that I have written. I hope you enjoy, and just remember some of the details may not line up bc I really didn't think they would get posted, as I wrote them for myself mostly. I hope you enjoy it anyway, there are no Doctor Who fics here or on Archive it's a travesty! So I thought I'd share my little collection with you all, enjoy my loves!
BTW I listened to The Long Song by Murray Gold for this piece. Also BTW, Eleven is my favorite Doctor followed by Ten. Also (I know shut up and let them read, Danielle) I'm AMERICAN LOL and I tried my best to make this seem Authentic to England, but it still has American twists to it, I don't mean to lol my culture is all I know.
CREDIT: Found the amazing Dividers at Firefly Graphics, check them out.
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“I’ll just be a minute, just want to pop in and say hi.” You smile, reaching for your handbag to sling over your shoulder. The Doctor smiles from the other side of the console, he’s used to this. Bringing Humans to live with him in the Tardis usually means occasional visits home. 
“Need me to tag along?” He asks, and you smile because you know he doesn’t really want to come. The Doctor has become hesitant in recent years to become over involved in his companions' families. You asked him why once, and he got this sad look on his face like he was remembering something. He didn’t tell you, but you knew whatever he was thinking of wasn’t good, so you didn’t ask. 
“No, that’s okay. My mum doesn’t really like you anyway,” you tease with a light smile on your face. The Doctor’s mouth drops open in offense as he makes his way around the console towards you. 
“What?! I haven’t done anything to that woman, she’s only met me one time!” The Doctor exclaims in disbelief. You chuckle as you look up at him, he’s stopped just barely a foot in front of you. You feel your heart begin to thrum unsteadily against your chest at the close proximity. You look up at him, your eyes meeting in a heated stare. 
“Oh you mean the time when you knocked on the door, promised her you’d keep me safe, and took me away with you? That time? Yeah I can’t imagine why she wouldn’t like you.” You joke, sarcasm in your voice. 
“You’re safe aren’t you? And I’m returning you, as promised.” He insists with a huff, leaning back against the console with his arms crossed. 
“Wait, you’re not leaving are you? I’m just visiting-” You begin, and the worry in your voice makes The Doctor smile. He reaches up to tenderly brush his palm against your cheek, his thumb stroking gently. 
“I’d never leave without you, promise.” His voice is soft, sincere and you believe him. 
“Okay, I’ll see you later then.” You smile, nervously leaning forward to press your lips against his cheek to give him a quick peck. Technically you and The Doctor aren’t together, and you clearly have feelings for him. You think he has feelings for you. You hope he does. Sometimes it's hard to tell with him. He has a small smile on his face as he watches you leave, flashing him another beautiful smile over your shoulder before you’re out the door. You see your parents' apartment building just ahead of you, and you’re already mentally preparing for the scolding you will receive in just a few minutes. 
You weren’t entirely fibbing when you told The Doctor your Mum doesn’t like him. She doesn’t. According to her, he’s the reason you quit your job and broke up with your fiance, who was a highly respected Attorney. In actuality you never loved Todd, he was so mind numbingly boring compared to The Doctor. You know meeting The Doctor has ruined any possibility of ever having a relationship on Earth because no man will ever have a chance of competing with The Doctor, he’s sort of it for you. Not like you’d tell him that though, or anybody for that matter. 
Nearly every star in the sky can be pinpointed back to him in some way, you wonder how dark and bleak the Universe would be if he didn’t exist. Everybody in this Universe owes their lives to him, and you’ll make sure he never forgets all the good he’s done. The Doctor tends to look at himself and see a monster, a selfish man who drags fragile Humans around with him to impress them, but you know that’s not true. Everybody needs a friend, even The Doctor...he just always seems to forget that. 
So how the hell could Todd from Barnaby and Scott Law Firm compete with someone like that? Has he ever even saved a cat from a tree? No, not worth his time, but he’d be there to represent the cat in court after the poor thing fell. You laugh softly to yourself as you trudge up the last flight of stairs before you finally reach your parents floor. You anxiously check out the window one more time, and you see the Tardis is still parked out on the lawn just where it was before. 
You’re not checking because you don’t trust him, or because you think he doesn’t want you to travel with him anymore but because The Doctor has a tendency to leave companions behind to keep them safe. He's already threatened to do it once when you wandered off and nearly got yourself killed. You don't think he actually would, he was just cross because you scared him. You approach your parents door, and hesitantly lift your hand to knock. You’re looking forward to seeing your Dad, your Mum not so much. You hear scrambling around and chairs scraping against the wood floors. The door flings open and you’re met with your 14 year old sister, Jeanie. 
“Jeans!” You exclaim joyfully, throwing your arms around your beaming sister. She hugs you back tightly, peering over your shoulder curiously. 
“Where’s your boyfriend?” She mumbles against your shoulder and you feel your chest seize and your face flush. 
“Who- The Doctor?” You ask incredulously, and Jeanie simply nods. 
“He- he isn’t my boyfriend Jeans, and he’s busy.” You dismiss her question as casually as you can, hoping your voice doesn’t give anything away as you make your way into your parents' spacious apartment. Your Father, Richard Scott, is a co-owner of Barnaby and Scott Law Firm, so you lived a privileged life. It’s also why your Mum was so dead set on you marrying Todd Farlan, who was conveniently employed at Barnaby and Scott. 
“Busy! He’s always busy, he promised he’d bring me a Quadricycle!” Jeanie pouted, a look of disappointment on her face. 
“And if he isn’t your boyfriend, then he should be.” She insists. 
“Wait, what’s a Quadricycle?” You ask, disregarding her previous comment, which she doesn’t miss. 
“Don’t pretend you’re not in love with him.” Jeanie teases, a dangerous and playful glint in her eye. 
“Quit it Jeans, I am not. Oh, hi Dad.” You smile as you round the corner into the kitchen, to see your Dad sipping a cup of coffee in a pinstripe suit. 
“My Happy girl has finally come back home! How long are you planning on staying this time?” He asks, and you love the lack of contempt in his voice. 
“Not long I’m afraid, just a few hours for a visit. I missed you.” You admit, letting your Father crush you against his chest. 
“Is that fellow of yours coming? The Doctor?” He asked, his eyes glancing back at the door. You shook your head, allowing your eyes to close as Dad rubs his hand up and down your back. Being in life threatening danger on a daily basis really made you miss your family, well Jeanie and your Dad anyway. 
“No he’s…working. He says hi.” You’re only half-lying. The Doctor got a strange message on the psychic paper he’s checking the authenticity of, so he technically is working. Keys jingle in the door, and your heart instantly plummets into your stomach. It’s your Mum. 
“Now Happy, you know how your Mother is. Just ignore her and put on a brave face, yeah?” Your Dad says, placing a hand on your shoulder once he feels the tension coming from you. Jeanie gave you a smile, dashing off to her room and you almost wished you could do the same. But you didn’t, you started getting busy on the dishes. Doing something else made it easier to ignore her. You can hear the clicking of her heels as she comes down the hallway, your Mother was the Headmistress of a Secondary School, and she acted like one. 
“Oh so you decided to finally grace us with your presence, hm?” Your Mother says, her voice stern.
“Hello Mum.” Your voice is polite, fake polite. You turn to give her a smile, and you see her graying blonde hair pinned back and her glasses perched up on her beak shaped nose. Come to think of it, your Mother reminded you of a bird with a pinched up face. She scans you from head to toe, her eyes flickering over you from the tops of her narrow glasses. 
“I suppose you look thin enough, a bit worn out though. What is that Doctor doing to you anyway?” Her voice is judgemental, accusatory as she places her black handbag down. She’s wearing a suit, a pantsuit, your Mother never wore skirts. 
“Nothing Mum, he hasn’t done anything.” You say patiently, sighing a bit as you turn back to the dishes. He only saves my life practically everyday and still you say horrible things about him, you think bitterly to yourself.
“Give her a break Christine, she just got home.” Your Father says, and you could hug him all over again. Your Mother reaches into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers. 
“Yes Richard I can see that, it’s perfect timing actually.” Your Mother begins and your Father swears under his breath. 
“Christ Christine, not this shit again. I already told you those won't hold up in a court, it’s not the fucking 1800s!” Your Father snaps and you have to physically pick your jaw up, you hardly ever hear your Father swear.
“Dad, what're you talking about? What are those papers?” You ask, your anxiety spiking. 
“Your Mother here has decided to write up a contract betrothing you to Todd Farlan.” Your Father explains hotly, this is clearly something they’ve argued about before. You feel your heart seize, and cold dread washes over you. You need to go back to the Tardis now, you never should have come home. 
“What?” Your voice is small, you hate how afraid you sound. Your Father turns to face you, looking in your eyes. 
“Happy, don’t forget I’m a lawyer. I won’t let anybody do anything to you against your will.” Your Father promises and you nod, avoiding your Mothers eyes. 
“Richard let me talk to her. Alone.” Your Mother asks, tapping her heel impatiently against the kitchen tile. He doesn’t move. 
“Oh for God sakes, I just want to talk to her. She’s my daughter.” Your Mother huffs, and you want to sink into the floor. Could your Mother really marry you off to Todd without your permission? She seems to be sure it’s going to happen, was she going to do this behind your back while you were gone? You’d come back suddenly married to Todd? You feel sick when you think about all of this. You regret telling The Doctor not to come, you wish he was here. You wanted him to swoop in and rescue you like he always does. But he’s outside tinkering in the Tardis and you told him not to be worried unless night has fallen and you still haven’t come back. He needs to make you a ‘help me!’ button that you can press and alert him you need his help. Like a Doctor Life Alert. 
“It’s okay Dad. Just 5 minutes Mum.” You tell her, and you want your voice to sound stronger but it sounds so small and afraid. It’s hard for you to be brave when The Doctor isn’t around, he has this way of making you feel like you can do anything. He believes it too, even if you don’t. Your Dad leaves the kitchen, giving you an arm squeeze and a wink as he goes. You remain standing by the sink, a guarded look on your face as you cross your arms. Your Mother slides the stack of papers towards you. 
“Just read them, I think you’ll find the terms aren’t as bad as you think. You loved this man once, would marrying him really be so awful?” Your Mother is giving you this look, this I love you and only want the best for you look, but you don’t believe her. Not anymore. 
“I don’t love him anymore, and actually that sounds like a hell crafted specifically for me. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. The only thing I want in this world is to travel with The Doctor.” You say patiently, though you’re starting to losing your patience. 
“Ah, not that stupid man again! You’re traveling with someone you don’t even know Y/N! You don’t even know his name!” She exclaims, frustrated. 
“You wouldn’t understand.” You huff, you know the truth. You know that worlds would burn and the fabric of reality would split open if someone uttered The Doctor’s name at the wrong place, at the wrong time. His name is literally dangerous information, besides The Doctor suits him just fine. 
“No, and I don’t care to anymore. That’s besides the point. I have it written up in this contract that you will be allowed to continue traveling with whomever you choose at your discretion.” Your Mother explains, and all of this is raising red flags in your head. 
“That’s awfully kind, what’s the catch?” You ask, your voice flat and sarcastic. There’s a catch, there’s always a catch. 
“You have to return home to produce children, an heir so to speak for his family's prestigious name and fortune. Once you have given him a male heir, you are free to do whatever you like.” Your Mother explains, like this is all normal stuff. Like the two of you are discussing the shopping, debating wheat bread versus rye. 
“Oh my God. So if I sign this, I have to come home to have sex, squeeze out a baby and then I’m free to do what I’m already doing without all that nonsense? Sign me right up!” You snap, pushing past her to head towards the front door.
“You get security for life Y/N! Knowing you’ll be taken care of when this little phase of yours has passed. A life to come back to!” Your Mother insists as you quickly gather your things. Jeanie has slowly emerged from her room by now, watching you gather your things with sad eyes. 
“This isn't a phase! I have a life. A good life.” Is the last thing you say before you slam the door and barrel for the stairs. Tears blur your vision as you stumble down the stairs, you need to get out of here as soon as possible, you doubt you’ll ever come back. You’ll run away with The Doctor and stay gone. The Tardis is your home now anyway, you love her. You push through the doors of the complex building and look up to where the Tardis is parked only to see that she’s gone. 
“No, where did he go?” You cry, your tears coming out heavier. You press the heels of your palms into your eyes. 
“No, no Doctor, where are you? I need you, you idiot!” You cry softly, your chest tightening when you realize you’ll have to go back to your parents apartment to wait for him. You know he’s coming back, he is. He wouldn’t leave you here, you know he wouldn’t. He’s going to come back and get you. He promised. 
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The Tardis lands in the lawn, just where it was before and The Doctor rushes for the doors. He hopes he timed it correctly because you’ll be cross with him if he’s late. He just had a quick errand to run, which was actually picking up your favorite and rare snacks from around the galaxy. He knows visits home are difficult for you because of your Mother so he made you a little care package for when you get back. It also has bath spa stuff, and some of your favorite movies.
The Doctor won’t admit his feelings for you to even himself, he’s literally never breathed the words aloud. The feelings he has for you are a lot like the Tardis, bigger on the inside. So big they fill every corner of his mind and consume his every thought with you. Where are you? Are you safe? What are you doing? Do you miss him? Do you think about going home? The list goes on, everything he does is for you. Every time he’s fighting to protect the Universe, he’s mostly fighting to protect you. Them too, but mostly you. 
He throws the doors open and instantly both hearts have dropped to his stomach. It’s evening, and not only that but according to the newspaper- it’s evening and 4 months from when he dropped you off. He left you here, with your Mother, for 4 months. The Doctor is immediately sprinting for the stairs, you’re never going to forgive him for this. He makes it up the stairs in record time, turning for your parents door and knocking frantically. Nobody answers, so he keeps on pounding and he doesn’t care if he wakes everybody up. He knows your Mother, remembers the horrible stories you’ve told him about her, he needs to get you out of here now. 
Eventually the door opens to reveal Jeanie standing in a tank top and fuzzy pajama pants. She smiles when she sees him, her face bright. 
“Doctor!” She exclaims, throwing her arms around him. She adores him even though she’s only met him a few times. 
“Thank goodness you’re here. Are you here to get Y/N?” She asks and The Doctor looks over the top of her head into your family's apartment. The lights are on, and it looks like Jeanie is the only one home. 
“Hello Jeanette! Yes, she in?” He asks, already making his way inside the apartment. Jeanie kicks the door shut with her foot, heading back into the living room where her movie was paused. The Doctor is the only one who calls Jeanie by her full name, 'Jeanette', and surprisingly he's the only one she lets call her that.
“Wait, why did you say that? 'Thank Goodness'?” He asks, turning and bending down to look right in Jeanie’s eyes. 
“Well it’s just that my Mum has been horrible to her, wrote up this contract to marry her off.” Jeanie explains and The Doctor feels dread ball up in the pit of his stomach. Marry? As in marriage? As in you’d be marrying another man? The Doctor doesn’t say anything as he races down the hallway to your bedroom door. 
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You’re sitting at your desk, your chest aching. You know he’s coming back, that’s not even a question in your mind. He’s just…late sometimes. You really have no idea how long you’ll be waiting here for him, could be a few months, could be many years. You have been ignoring your Mother and the contract. It’s laying out on your desk, you admittedly read it. If you had 3 brain cells and the talents of a half-dead gnat you’d see your Mothers point. The terms could be worse, but your life after signing this contract would be a living hell. You’d have to have sex with Todd, and the thought of ever letting him touch you again was appalling. The thought of carrying and birthing his children was even more appalling. You just wanted The Doctor here so bad, you wanted him to sweep you away back into your little dream life you shared with him. Your chest ached as hot tears stung your eyes, where is he? 
Suddenly, at that exact moment, you hear rapid and harsh knocking on your door. 
“Y/N? Open the door, it’s me. I’m so sorry I’m late sweetheart.” It’s The Doctor, you can hear the panic in his voice through the wood of your door. Your bedroom door doesn’t have a lock, so he can enter if he wants to but The Doctor has this silly rule that he’ll never enter your space without your permission. You stand, the relief fading away to anger. He left you here, for 4 months! You cross your arms, you want him to grovel a little. 
“Please, darling open the door. Let me explain.” He begs softly, not hearing anything on the other side of your door. You creep closer to your door, you can hear him breathing heavily on the other side. Your chest warms, did he sprint all the way up here from the Tardis? 
“I didn’t mean to leave you here sweetheart, I promise I didn’t. You know the Tardis, she does what she wants! I didn’t leave you here on purpose, please talk to me.” The Doctor tries again, pressing his forehead against the door. Your fingers trail lightly over the handle, you’re not ready to open the door yet. Not ready to ease his panic, not after he left you for 4 months. Hearing the pet names is helping, though you won’t tell him that. 
“Y/N, is this because you want to marry that man your Mother is trying to ship you off to?” The Doctor asks hesitantly, afraid that you’ll answer the door with a diamond engagement ring on your finger. You open the door, and the first thing you do is slap him hard across the cheek. Tears are building in your eyes, and you want to stay strong. You want to stay mad at him for what he did, but the desperation in his eyes as he looks down at you breaks your heart. When the first tear falls, The Doctor is back in your space. His thumb brushes the tear away while his arms pull you against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tenderly, one hand cradling your head against his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, closing his eyes while muttering soft apologies against your hair. 
You pull back to look at him your voice thick with tears, “I don’t want to marry Todd. I’ve been waiting for you, you complete idiot.” 
The Doctor presses you firmly against him, guilt beginning to seep in. He hates that he hurt you, he hates that when you needed him he wasn’t here. He hates that he left you. You turn your head to look up at him again, The Doctor’s hand still cupping your cheek. His other hand reaches up to cup your other cheek, his eyes studying yours. You hold your breath, eyes glancing from his to his lips. Is he going to kiss you? You want him to kiss you, really bad. He pulls you closer to him, and then he does it. He can’t help it, the way your watery eyes are looking up at him tempt him to you. He presses his lips gently against yours for a soft kiss. He tries to pull back, but you curl your hands around his jacket and pull him back to you roughly. 
The Doctor’s body collides with yours, and his arms curl around your back as your lips move desperately against his. You can tell he intended for this to be a soft and sweet kiss, he’s old fashioned like that. But you’ve been waiting for this for so long, you can’t control your hands as they pull him closer to you, as close as he can get. You want to feel every inch of his body pressed against yours. But his hands press against your shoulders, pushing you back lightly. He doesn’t let you get too far though, he keeps his arms around you and your body pressed firmly against his. His eyes are wide, and there’s a cheeky grin pulling at his face. 
“Well hello.” The Doctor says softly, his forehead resting against yours. Your cheeks color, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. You hate that you’re so much shorter than him, he however revels in this fact. 
“Shall we go home?” He asks, stepping into your room to grab your handbag. He spots the contract sitting on your desk, flipped open to the 197th page, and a highlighter sitting on top. 
“Y/N, were you considering this?” He asks, both hearts nervously racing. In truth, you weren’t. You just had nothing better to do waiting for him then look over this stupid contract. However, you still wanted to make The Doctor squirm a little. 
“Maybe...how was I to know when you’d come back? You said you accidentally left Amy for 12 years. How was I supposed to know you would come back so soon!” You exclaim, loving the way he anxiously shifts from foot to foot. 
“So you were?” He asked, wounded sad eyes looking up at you. 
“He was good in bed.” You lie, he was terrible in bed and you only slept with him the one time. It was so awful you never did it again, he didn’t warm you up and finished in 30 seconds. The Doctor stiffens, a much different look in his eyes now. Something fierce and angry shines in them, and his hands begin to twitch. 
“Have you slept with him recently? Since you’ve been waiting for me?” The Doctor asked, and he knows he doesn’t really have a right to ask. He shouldn’t, it’s improper enough to make him blush, usually. Now however, he’s too angry to pay attention to how improper and forward it is. 
“What would you do if I said yes?” You asked softly, eyes peering up at him as he slowly approached you. The Doctor wrapped one arm around your body, yanking you against him. You were breathless as your hands landed on his chest, your lust blown eyes staring up at him almost dreamily. His lips were brushing against yours, you could feel his breath. 
“Has he seen you? Touched you? Recently?” The Doctor asks again, although this one sounded more like a demand than a question. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you so desperately want him to kiss you again. 
“No, no I was just trying to make you angry.” You admit wantonly, pressing yourself against him and trying to lean up on your tippy toes to connect your lips. The Doctor hums, allowing you a short but heated kiss before he pulls back again. 
“You did.” He confirms, kissing you once, twice, three times before the sound of the front door closing gets both your attention. You exit your room first, and the sight before you makes anger bubble in your chest. It’s your Mother, standing in the living room with Todd Farlan. The man you will not be marrying. He doesn't look like he wants to be here, your Mother likely made him.
“What the hell is this?” You snap, feeling a warm presence behind you. Your Mother narrows her eyes at The Doctor, especially at the close proximity between the two of you. 
“Is this why you’ve been so impertinent? Because you love this man?” Your Mother sneers, and Todd looks very uncomfortable. 
“Yes! I love The Doctor, and nothing you say or do will change that. I’m not going to marry Todd.” You snap, and you feel The Doctor gently take your hand in his. You pull him towards the door, sending your little sister a sad smile before exiting the apartment. The two of you walk back to the Tardis in silence, but your hand stays wrapped safely in his. You realize suddenly that you really do feel safe with The Doctor in all ways, you know your heart is safe with him too. He opens the door for you and your eyes water at the basket sitting on the console. It’s filled with all of your favorite things, things for a perfect relaxing day in. 
“Did you do that?” You ask, knowing there’s nobody else who could have done it. 
“It's why I was late.” He says sadly, eyes meeting yours when you move to stand right in front of him. You don’t say anything, you just wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him tenderly. Now that he’s kissed you, you don’t ever want to stop kissing him. His hands find your hips and he gives you a small smile. 
“It’s alright, I forgive you.” You say softly, and he presses his forehead against yours. 
“Doctor?” You breathe, you squirm as you feel a nervous wriggling in your belly. You can’t really believe you’re about to say this, but the aching from between your thighs is unbearable and only he can fix it. He hums, his attention on you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. 
“I…I want-” You cut yourself off, you can’t say this. You can’t. The Doctor already knows what you want, can see it in the way your fingers play absentmindedly with the button of his trousers. He really wants to hear you say it though. 
“What do you want, my love? C’mon darling, use your words.” The Doctor prods gently, and you squirm under his knowing gaze. 
“More.” You reply, your voice small and quiet. The Doctor presses a loving kiss to your forehead. 
“More what?” He asks, and you give him a look that says, you’re really going to make me say it? 
“More kissing, more touching.” You explain shyly, and The Doctor’s smile only grows. The Doctor’s hands lift you up from under your thighs, you sequel in surprise as your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel him hardening in his trousers, and you moan softly when he presses against your aching center. His arms wind around your back, pressing you close to him as his lips press to your neck. The sound makes a shiver ripple down his spine, he wants to hear you make that sound again and again and again. The Doctor isn’t paying attention to where he’s going, being far too occupied with your quiet moaning to look so the Tardis helps and materializes your room right in front of him. 
He stumbles through the door and to your bed, placing you gently onto it. He leans back and looks down at you, the stunning view in front of him not one he wants to take his eyes off anytime soon. Your loose tank top you’d been wearing for bed has slipped down, your breasts practically spilling out of it. Your pajama shorts were hiking up, revealing more and more of your thighs. The Doctor feels nearly overwhelmed with lust, he takes a deep breath to calm himself down. He doesn’t want to hurt you because he’s lost himself in a lust-filled frenzy. 
“Is this alright?” The Doctor asks softly, and you nod. You look up at him with wide, innocent eyes. It warms him up from the inside out, and he leans down over you to kiss you again. He moves slowly, languidly, softly against your lips as he lays you more firmly against the mattress. He is old fashioned after all, and is it not the gentlemans job to take care of all his loves needs? The Doctor’s hands thumb the hem of your tank top, and you lean up to let him lift it off you. Your bare chest is instantly revealed to him, you were about to go to bed, you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Your cheeks color and warm. 
“Beautiful my love, absolutely beautiful.” The Doctor breathed in awe, leaning down to press his lips against your soft skin. His lips landed between your breasts and The Doctor closed his eyes, it’s been a very long time since he has even attempted to indulge this rather primal need. Not since he was with his wife on Gallifrey, and even she passed a few years before the Time War- point is: it’s been a really really long time and The Doctor is struggling to restrain himself. His lips travel across your breasts, stopping at your nipple to bite gently and pull a few soft, desperate moans from you. 
“Please don’t go anywhere.” You beg suddenly, and the desperation hiding in your tone makes The Doctor’s chest hurt. 
“I won’t my love, I’m here. I’ll take care of everything, just lay back alright?” The Doctor says lovingly, and you can only nod dumbly. He hooks his thumbs into your shorts and presses a kiss to your hip bone before pulling them down and off your feet, tossing them behind him. He feels a swell of heat rush through his entire body, and he is rock hard by now. You aren’t wearing any panties, and he can instantly see your wet cunt. He can smell your wet cunt, being a Time Lord has that effect. It’s intoxicating, and slowly driving him mad. He takes your ankles and roughly yanks you down the bed, his composure is slipping. 
“How long?” You ask, you can feel his palms shaking. Can see how lost and unfocused his eyes are. They are scanning your entire body, and he’s mouthing hotly at your neck and breasts. You feel like you’re floating on cloud nine, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his head, holding him firmly to you. 
“Too long.” Is what he mumbles against you, his fingers reaching up to unbutton his vest. His jacket has long since been thrown off, and his bowtie discarded in the pile somewhere as well. 
“You have so many layers.” You whine, and The Doctor smiles at the neediness in your tone. He presses your hips together then, momentarily holding onto your hips so he can grind himself against you. 
“Patience my love.” He smiles, finally shaking off his vest and shirt. Your hands are instantly exploring his smooth warm chest, touching all the skin that’s been revealed to you. He leans over you again, his lips pressing against yours. His lips move slowly against yours, and you moan softly against his mouth. The Doctor trails his hands down your stomach lightly, and along your inner thighs. You’ve parted your legs wider to make room for him, and the Doctor reaches down to release some pressure in his trousers. He unbuttons them and yanks the zipper down, releasing a sigh as some of the suffocating pressure is released. 
“More.” You beg against his lips softly, and how could The Doctor deny such a request from his love? He trails his hands up your inner thighs, and he finally parts your folds gently, feeling for your entrance. 
“Oh,” You gasp, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The Doctor carefully slides 2 fingers inside you, and you moan at the sudden intrusion. 
“I’m sorry my love, was that too much?” The Doctor asks, panic seeping in that he’s done something wrong because he can’t control his impulses. But to his surprise, you shake your head quickly, your head tossed to the side and your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. 
“No, please keep going, my love.” You beg quickly, wriggling your hips so he starts moving. The Doctor smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck as he starts to thrust his fingers into you at a slow and steady pace, he wants to take you apart lovingly, carefully, not rough and hasty. That’s not what you deserve. You moan louder, more desperately as your back arches and you press your bare chest against his.
The Doctor is having a hard time believing this is really happening.
He keeps thrusting his fingers into you, and you can feel your orgasm slowly building. The Doctor pulls back to look at your face, and the look on your face takes his breath away. Your head is tossed back against the pillow, your eyes closed and your mouth parted as you moan and cry out in his ear. The Doctor thinks this right here might be heaven, and he doesn’t even believe in heaven. 
“I’m going to come, oh God Doctor please please-” You’re rambling, and The Doctor keeps moving his fingers. You squeeze around him suddenly, coming and gushing around him. The Doctor groans against your neck, his cock throbbing in his trousers at the sight of you soaked and twitching from oversensitivity. After a few minutes of The Doctor pressing gentle kisses to your neck, chest and collarbones while you recovered from your orgasm, you looked up at him again. 
“More.” You said again and The Doctor smiled fondly above you, and he swears if it were possible, there would be cartoon hearts circling above his head. 
“Are you sure you can handle more my love?” The Doctor asks softly and you nod quickly. 
“Yes please, I um… I want to feel you inside me. I want to be yours.” You admit, avoiding looking in his eyes by trailing your fingers across the moles and occasional freckles across his neck and shoulders. The Doctor’s mind goes completely blank at your words, the lust overpowering everything else. Your words go straight to his cock, and he presses his lips against yours quickly. 
“You’re already mine.” He promises between kisses and you believe him. You reach your hand down, pushing at his trousers and boxers beneath. The Doctor helps you finish undressing him, and he kicks his trousers off to the side before leaning over you again. 
“Y/N, my love, are you absolutely sure you want to do this?” The Doctor asks, he needs to ask. Needs to know you want this, needs to know you won’t come to your senses later and realize you made a mistake. He wouldn’t be able to bear it. Sex was not something that was casual to The Doctor, he didn’t have sex ever. Unless it was with someone he really, truly loved. 
“Yes I’m sure, please I can’t take it anymore. I want to feel you.” You beg, eliminating any fear from The Doctor’s mind of you changing your mind. The Doctor leaned back then, grasping the base of his cock with one hand while he braced himself over you with the other. He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging his tip from your entrance to your clit to warm you up. The Doctor pressed his lips against yours, he was a romantic at heart. He wanted, needed, to be close to you. He eased himself into you as soon as your lips touched, and your back rose, pressing your chest against him as you cried out sharply. 
“You’re so big oh my God-” You gasp, and The Doctor cradles you lovingly against him and he slowly works himself inside you. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, Time Lords weren’t designed to breed with Humans. There’s a bit of a size difference.” He explains, his voice strained. You’re so tight, so wet and warm, and you’re squeezing him so so tightly. Once The Doctor has his pelvis pressed flush against yours he stays still, to calm the racing of his hearts. You’re squirming against him, gasping and moaning as slick gushes out of you. The intrusion is intense, and the stretch it takes to accommodate him burns. 
“Darling, is it too much? Do you need me to stop?” The Doctor asks when he notices the pain on your face, even though the thought of stopping now seems impossible. 
“Don’t you dare.” You warn, eyes watery as you look up at him. The Doctor holds your body against his, propping himself on his forearms above you. Your legs wind around his waist, and your arms grasp at his shoulders. The Doctor kisses your forehead as he pulls his hips back, all the way back until just the tip is inside you. Then he swiftly slides back into you at a steady pace. Not too fast, not too slow. You cry out desperately as he steadily thrusts into you, panting against your shoulder. The Doctor pulls his head back to watch where you two connect, the place where both of you become one. The sight of his cock disappearing inside you again and again makes The Doctor feel tingly and warm all over. 
The Doctor leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, and you moan against him as your legs begin to tremble. 
“Going to come-” You whine desperately, and The Doctor changes the angle of his hips just enough to make your toes curl and tears to slip from the corners of your eyes. The Doctor reaches one hand up to swirl at your clit, rubbing it in soft, gentle circles. The other hand cups your cheek, wiping gently at your tears.
“Come for me my love, I want to feel you.” The Doctor breathes and that’s all you need to tumble over the edge. You squeeze around him, and your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging upwards as you cry out and writhe against him. The Doctor curls his arms around your body to try and hold you still, and your eyes meet his and it’s simply erotic. 
“Keep looking at me.” The Doctor instructs and you force your eyes open so you can keep looking at him. The pleasure is overwhelming, he keeps thrusting and it keeps going, the hot pleasure washing over you. 
“Where do you want me to- God- to come my love?” The Doctor asks and you know where instantly. 
“Inside me, please please come inside me.” You beg, and The Doctor groans against you as he buries his face in your neck. The Doctor keeps pushing into you, until he presses himself as deep as he can go and you feel him coming inside you in hot spurts. The Doctor presses his forehead against yours, and you feel him softening inside you. 
“Are you alright, my love?” He asks, but you don’t respond. The Doctor pulls back instantly, his hands cradling your face. Your eyes are closed. Panic spikes hot in his chest, did he hurt you? Time Lords and Humans don’t normally have sex, was it too much for you? 
“Y/N, my love, open your eyes.” The Doctor pleads, and you slowly peek one eye open. A smile tugs at your lips when you see the worry in his eyes. 
“I’m just relaxing, you worry too much.” You tease, and The Doctor releases a shaky breath. 
“You scared me.” He says, carefully pulling himself out of your warm heat. You whine, lazily grabbing at his hips as he withdraws himself from you. 
“I have to clean you up my love.” The Doctor whispers softly, pressing kisses to your hairline as he scoops you up in his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and places you gently on the counter. The counter is cold beneath your heated skin and you jump when he puts you down. The Doctor kisses your temple before leaning down to draw your bath. After the water has started to fill the tub, he turns for the door. 
“Wait, where are you going?” You ask nervously, you don’t want him to go. The Doctor smiles fondly at you, kissing your head. 
“I’ll be right back my love, I’m going to get all that fancy bath stuff I got you.” The Doctor kisses you and then retreats from the bathroom. You smile to yourself, feeling happiness overwhelming you before you slide into the warm bath water. 
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irkimatsu · 6 months
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Can you do a husk x fem reader where she’s also a cat demon (no wings, just cat) yet she’s the epitome of “golden retriever” As if her personality was golden, she’s extroverted and caring and so so bubbly (even more so than Charlie). But then one night, crying is heard from her room and husk hears it and she’s insecure of her body because of how skinny she is?? She has curves yes but that doesn’t make her feel better at all and she’s always comparing herself to others and how she could be better!! It’s just overall angst with fluff please :( 🙏
(Live laugh love you sm !!)
Okay, so, first off, a confession - I am, uh. Not skinny. I am far from skinny, and not only that, I'm in the business of taking skinny characters and chunking them up. Have you seen some of my posts about Overlord Husk?
All that to say that I'm not used to writing skinny characters, and "skinny character insecure about their body" is an absolutely foreign concept to me. I tried my best, though, and I hope I hit the notes with this that you needed!
About 1.5 words. Primarily SFW but Husk gets a little handsy toward the end. One-sided Husk/Angel from Angel's side, but Angel's graceful about it, there's no ship bashing here, I still love Angel and he's still one of Husk's best friends.
---
“Husky!”
Husk has barely made it into the hotel lobby, and you’re already clinging to him, your tail wagging furiously.
The tail wagging is strange for your species; you’d reincarnated in hell as a gray tabby cat, a creature known for being moody, standoffish, even a little prissy. But that wasn’t who you were in life, and it’s not how you are in death, either. Husk realized it immediately upon meeting you, and at first he wasn’t a fan of your wild energy, but you managed to grow on the old man’s heart soon enough. He appreciated how young you could make him feel, and how much you reminded him that the best years of his life weren’t as far gone as he thought.
“Hey, hey!” he says, laughing, a far cry from the Husk who would have snapped at you to get off of him a few months ago. “I missed you too, babe!” He gently hugs you back, giving you a couple pats on the back before stepping away. At first you would have been hurt by the lack of enthusiasm, but now you realize that he’s simply not comfortable with too much PDA. He’s perfectly affectionate behind closed doors, and that’s what really matters.
“Damn, I need to find someone who pounces me like that when I get home!” Angel says with a laugh. Shopping bags dangle from all four of his arms, and he’s wearing a pair of sunglasses you don’t think you’ve seen on him before.
“Did you guys enjoy your boys’ day out?” you ask.
“Sure did!” Husk says as he holds up his own, much smaller shopping bag. “Had as much fun as you can when you’re clothes shopping with Angel for three hours, anyway.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t like me showing off outfits for ya,” Angel teases as he sways his hips. “I know you were staring at my ass in every pair of shorts I tried on.”
“What ass?” Husk shoots back with a smile. “Don’t lie to me, you’re flat as the fuckin’ bartop.”
“Hm? I’m sorry, and whose flat ass has been on the cover of every adult magazine in hell, again?” Angel says, swaying his hips further.
“Hey, if the people want flat twinks, then good for them.” Husk returns his attention to you, and sticks his hand in the paper shopping bag. “That shop was real nice, though. I found a couple things for myself, and got you a little somethin’, too.” He digs around for a bit, before pulling out a small jewelry box and handing it to you. “Here. For my golden girl.”
You open the box and gasp at the sight of a golden choker encrusted with diamonds. “Husk! How much was this?!”
“Enough to be worth it,” is all the information he’ll give. “Mind if I put it on you?”
“Go ahead!”
He takes the box back and walks behind you. His claws graze your skin as he fastens the choker around your neck, and your skin prickles.
While he’s behind you, you’re still facing Angel. You bear no ill-will toward the porn star; you admire his confidence, and you know he’s been a good friend to Husk since long before you got here. For as much as they tease each other, Husk does genuinely seem to care about Angel and enjoy his outings with him; he wouldn’t have gone on that shopping trip if he didn’t enjoy the company at least a little, you’re sure. He hasn’t been subtle about his crush on Husk, but he’s also conceded his loss to you with grace, which only makes you appreciate him further. It’s not like Angel can’t provide any competition. Who would turn down the opportunity to date a famous porn star? You’re not even into his works, but even you admit that he’s gorgeous, with his slender build and strong legs.
You’re not built like him at all. He’s skinny in a way he works hard for, making sure every part of his body is proportioned just right for his admirers. He’s not just skinny, he’s healthy, and he glows from it.
Meanwhile, Husk is gently rubbing your bony shoulders, and you can’t help but wonder how he feels about the hard lumps beneath his palms.
“Turn around so I can see it?” he asks. You comply, and he responds with wide eyes and a whistle. “Beautiful.”
You’re not sure if you’re in the right headspace to accept the compliment. “Thanks,” you say anyway.
You spend the rest of the afternoon talking to Husk and Angel about their outing, and trying not to look at Angel too much.
Why are you crying about this? This is so stupid. Husk chose you, didn’t he? He met Angel first; if that was what he really wanted, they would have gotten together before you even showed up, wouldn’t they?
So why are you hiding under your blanket, sobbing and clutching your shoulders and wishing you looked like him?
A gentle rapping noise interrupts your self-pity. “Babe? You okay in there?”
“I’m fine!” you call back, despite the tears streaming down your face.
“That didn’t sound fine.” Damn him and his ability to read people. That’s what you get for dating someone who doesn’t like backing down from someone who’s clearly in denial about their own feelings. How dare he care about you like this?
(You’re glad he cares about you. You just wish he’d let you have that denial.)
“I’ll be right there,” you say, knowing he won’t leave now that he’s heard you crying. You untangle yourself from the blanket cocoon you’ve been hiding in, and you go to open the door for him.
“You look like shit,” Husk says as he closes the door behind him. Not the most romantic greeting, but he’s not wrong; your fur is stained with tears, and your makeup is running. Not a good look. “Come here.” He takes your hand, leads you to the bed, and sits you both on the edge of it. “Talk to me.”
You take a few deep breaths to make sure you won’t start sobbing mid-sentence. “Husk? Am I too skinny?”
Husk stares at you, dumbfounded. “Babe. Everyone in this hotel is built like a fucking twig.”
“Yeah, on purpose!” you say. “They don’t have bones sticking out, or sunken faces… they don’t look fucking starved.”
Husk still seems dumbfounded. “Have you looked at me recently?”
You don’t mind giving him a look. His soft fur, unintentionally tousled in such a perfect way, with tufts on his shoulders and chest that are so wonderful to tug. His yellow eyes that currently burn with sarcasm, but that can gaze at you so softly when the mood is right. His generous heart; it’s not something you can see, but you always feel it when you look at him. Whether it’s the choker you still feel around your neck or the time he always gives you no matter the hour of the day, you know he could never feel like he’s given you enough.
“You don’t think I look awful, do you?” Husk says. “You could tell me if you did. I ain’t under any delusion that I’m winning any beauty contests.”
“You look great, Husk!” you insist. “I’ve thought you were handsome ever since I got here.”
“Yeah? You don’t think I look like a withered corpse because I’m regularly too drunk to remember to eat?”
“No!” you say, horrified. “Why would I ever think that?”
“Because it’s true,” he says with a shrug. “I take shitty care of myself, I ain’t denying it. At least you’re tryin’. That’s just what your body looks like. That ain’t your problem.”
“But still…” You pull your legs up to the bed and hug them. “I wish I looked like Angel sometimes… he really likes you, you know.”
Husk snorts. “Yeah. I kinda guessed.”
“You could have been with him before I even got here. Why would you choose me over a gorgeous celebrity like him?”
“You’ve got a certain charm that he doesn’t have. I still like the guy a lot, but we’re just friends. He’s not as kind hearted as you, and he doesn’t appreciate quiet nights in like you do. He needs someone who can keep up with him… and I need someone who can slow down with me. Someone like you.”
At least he loves your personality…
“Plus…” Husk wraps an arm around your waist and squeezes your hip. “I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said he had a flat ass.”
“Husk!” you squeal, his touch tickling your skin.
“Can I be a gross old man for a second?” he says with a smirk. “Because I love curves. Hips and ass are the best. Gives me something to squeeze.” Both of his arms are around you now, and he’s holding you close. “Sure, he’s perfect by some standards, but he ain’t my type. You, on the other hand…” He kisses your forehead and gently strokes your hair. “Don’t change based on what you think I want, okay, doll? I love you just like this.
Comparin’ yourself to others won’t get you anywhere. Just trust that I’m with you because I wanna be.”
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joanvisitsrome · 3 months
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stars between us ch.2 : h.c
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Hey you guys!! here's chapter two! I'll do everything I can to have chapter three tomorrow. I'm looking to have 8-9 chapters total of this series. COMMENT on this post if you'd like to be added to this taglist.
Summary: You and Hazel spend the first night of the camping trip together
Contains: fluff, hand-holding, one-bed trope, teasing friends, slight angst, hazel talking about the pep rally, hazel talking abt toxic friends, awkward!hazel, nerd!reader
“So, that leaves you and Hazel,” Isabel had pointed out. 
You and Hazel look at each other and smile. Of course you two were fine with sharing a bed. You two got along well anyway. The two of you leave your things on the bed and then go outside to a nearby picnic table. It wasn’t too late in the day, as there was still light outside. The sky was only now just getting darker. The two of you begin to continue your conversation from the bus, picking up exactly where you left off.
“Okay,” you say, “enough about me. Where in the actual universe are you getting bombs?”
“Where else? You really think I’m going to like some deep, dark alleyway to find supplies? I usually just go to Home Depot and grab my supplies.”
“Really?” you ask surprisedly, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not joking. I’ll take you one day if you’d like.”
“Wow Hazel, stringing your new friend into your bomb-making endeavors.” To this comment, Hazel giggles and plays with the rings on her fingers. She looked absolutely adorable doing this.
“I’d never let you get in trouble for it though,” Hazel adds quickly, “I don’t like throwing people under the bus.”
“Sure you don’t,” you quip teasingly, “If you don’t, then what was that with PJ during the last pep rally?”
“Now that’s a different story. PJ, umm, made me feel, unloved? The fight club has been a safe space for me during my mom’s midlife crisis. I guess when PJ kind of summed up for me that I had no friends, and, um, had a skank as a mom, I wanted to defend myself. Also, they said I was fighting PJ.”
“Well, you have me, so you have friends. And uh, I don’t know about the mom stuff, but she definitely didn’t raise a skank, so that must say something.” Hazel smiles, glad that you at least understood her. She holds your hands, which had been resting on the table.
“I’m really glad we’ve started getting to know each other. It’s nice to talk with someone who’s like me in some ways.”
“Yeah. Even though I’m friends with like Isabel and Brittany and those people, I feel like they don’t understand. Like half of those people don’t even read. Like, the school took away the books and they just don’t care.” Hazel looks at you as you continue rambling, a concentrated, attentive look in her eyes. She seems dazed almost.
“Hazel?”
“Yeah?” she says, shaking out of her daze.
“You good? It seemed like you phased out for a moment.”
“No, I’m just tired. I didn’t sleep well yesterday.” You look up at the sky, which has gone basically dark. 
“Should we go sleep?”
“Oh, we don’t have to. We can keep talking if you want.”
“No no, I’m tired too. Plus, we have a long day tomorrow doing the trash and stuff.”
“Okay! As long as you’re okay with it. I don’t want to force you to do something just because I am.”
“You’re not. Don’t worry about it, Haze.” You hold out your arm, and she links it in yours. The two of you laugh and talk your whole way back to the cabin. She sees PJ and Josie looking at her with teasing looks, lips puckered up. She quickly turns her head away to see you curled up on the corner of the bed, book in hand. It’s an astronomy book about constellations and the stories behind them.
Hazel looks at you as she climbs into bed.
“Whatcha reading?”
“Oh, just a book about the stories between different constellations.”
“OH! We didn’t get to look at the stars like we said.”
“Whatever. We’re both tired, and I’m sure we’ll have even more fun tomorrow doing so. I bet since we’ll spend the whole day together, we’re going to have a great time.”
“Don’t let me forget tomorrow. I’ll feel horrible if you don’t get to look at the stars at least once before the trip is over.”
“Don’t worry Haze, I won’t.” Hazel’s cheeks turn pink at the nickname, but she brushes it off and lies down. PJ and Josie ask everyone if it’s okay to turn off the lights, making you close your book and lie down as well. You assume that Brittany and Isabel are off with the other cheerleaders and that they’ll come back soon. You feel Hazel shudder when the lights turn off in the cabin.
“Hey, Haze, what’s wrong?” you whisper, turning to her under the covers.
“Nothing. Um, it’s just that I, um, kind of, always use a night light? I don’t like the pitch black.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I don’t know.” Hazel turns around to face you. Just then, your hands bump under the covers. You don’t know what overcomes you, but you decide to hold Hazel’s hand.
“Is that okay?” you ask. You hear Hazel’s breathing slow down to its relaxed pace.
“Yeah. Much better. Are YOU okay with that though?” she asks, concerned that maybe you would feel weird holding her hand.
“No, of course not. I want you to sleep well.” You two are facing each other in the bed, only barely able to see the traces of each other’s face.
“As long as you’re okay with it, I am too.”
“Goodnight Haze.” The two of you fall asleep facing each other, and holding hands, and wake up like that the next morning.
taglist: @at1nyzen
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dduane · 1 year
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The Novel as Cake
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    I was reading through the 'writing' tag on your blog, and came across your wonderful post about how you outline your novels using Cherryh's 'Shopping List' technique. My question is - how do you decide/come up with the 10 things in the novel? I have about 3-4 things I know must happen in my idea, and other random details about the world. But what is important enough to be one of the 10 things? And also, how do you generate your ideas for those 10 things? - Asked by Anonymous
…Okay, let’s take this from the top. (And for convenience’s sake, let’s stay in the shopping-list idiom; it’s useful enough.) (ETA: the blog entry that discusses the Shopping List outlining method is here.)
Let’s say you want to make a cake. …This cake also being your novel.
To have a solid story (in the western-novel tradition, anyway), you need at least two things: plot and theme. The plot is what happens. The theme is the why of what happens, and (to a certain extent) the book-wide spectrum of thought and emotion that underlies that; the answer to the question “But what’s the book about?”* …Think of this duality, for the moment, as the equivalent of having both liquid and solid stuff in your cake. You’ve got to have both or it won’t rise. A book with a plot but no theme has no soul.
So: you’re going to make a cake. What kind?
As an example, I’m going to ease myself out onto a limb here and equate “chocolate-chip devil’s food with chocolate buttercream frosting” with “epic-fantasy quest fiction with strong political, exoreligious, and quasiromantic components.” (A favorite for me, over time, as some folks will have noticed. I just can’t get enough of those chocolate chips…)
So how do you determine the ten things you need (or whatever number you like, but ten works for me) as major ingredients / sections?
Well, ideally from some familiarity with what has gone in other/similar cakes/works of fiction in the past: because (in genre fiction, anyway) you have at least some reader expectations to manage. If you haven’t been reading in your chosen genre, you really should be. ...Now, this doesn’t mean you have to do what other people working in the genre have done. Indeed, at all times you remain at liberty to “flip the punchcard” and do exactly the opposite of what everybody else has been doing, if that’s what suits you. But they’ve set out possible recipes for you, so (as a beginner at this work) it'd seem wise to examine those recipes and see what’s in them that might be useful for you. Once you’ve been doing this for a while, you don’t need to go looking, just as an experienced baker doesn’t need to run for the recipe book every time they want to make a cake.
Naturally you can substitute ingredients, add some or lose some, when you’re creating something new; just as you like—while always making sure you don’t throw away anything routinely required/expected in your genre. (Such as, for example, the Happily Ever After at the end of a genre romance.) But certain basics must be in place, things that make what you’re creating recognizably A Cake, as well as your own additions and embellishments.
In this case, that could be:
For a cake: flour, milk, eggs, butter, baking powder, cocoa, chocolate chips, vanilla extract, seasonings, a little bit of salt (because without that, even the sweetest cake tastes just a little insipid somehow)
For a novel: a protagonist/pairtagonist (is that a word? It is now…); an antagonist (not necessarily a character: an antagonistic or stymie-ing situation that keeps the antagonist from easily getting what they want/need will do just as well. This is where at least some of the interior drama will derive from); a change in interior or exterior conditions that sets events in motion; a “ticking clock” or similar construct that means the desired result must be achieved within a certain time or before certain conditions change or expire; various reversals or hiccups in the flow of the story that will inject a sense of realism (because when does anything ever go perfectly smoothly…?); a crisis point at which everything assembled against the protagonist rises up to be dealt with, and the protagonist rises up to meet the challenge and deal with it; and finally, a set of resolution events that (even if it doesn’t absolutely finish the story proper) brings about an end state that will leave you, and any theoretical reader, satisfied with the completion of the current story arc.
…Needless to say, this is an incredibly oversimplified take on the kind of strategizing needed when you’re creating the recipe for a novel that won’t simply collapse the minute you take it out of the oven. But starting simply is often best. The more you do this kind of work, the easier it gets.
Now: “How do you generate your ideas for those 10 things?”
There are a lot of possible answers to this, but the simplest is: Make them up out of nothing, as usual. :)
…This isn’t meant to sound like sass. You made up those first three or four things you came up with out of nothing, and now (because they’ve been there for a while, probably) they may well have started to acquire a kind of secret, temporally-based superiority in your mind—starting to feel somehow more valid than what needs to come next to fill in the gaps. This kind of creeping sense of validity-via-temporal-primacy is a commonplace when you’re in mid-process, and I invite you to ignore it.
Just insert those three or four things into your shopping list in (roughly) story-temporal order, and then spend some time thinking about what kinds of events could usefully come between / flow from them. Hints:
Events that could realistically have been caused by the ones you’ve got already, and could also realistically be seen as causal to later ones you’ve already established, are always useful. Ideally, you’re trying to establish a chain of events in which none of them look accidental, or coincidental (because readers are rightfully sensitive to plots that only work because all the characters are idiots, or keep having “lucky accidents”). What you’re working toward is an event flow that seems, when viewed in completion, inevitable: as if it couldn’t have happened any other way. You will almost certainly not achieve this easily, early on in your novel work, and maybe not at all. But it strikes me as a good thing to be striving for.
Events that badly screw things up for the main characters are also always useful. Heroes do not become heroes by having everything go their way. Their heroism is achieved and manifested by having things go to shit around them again and again and AGAIN, and nonetheless still finding their way through all that shit to do what needs to be done. The lines attributed to the Confucianist philosopher Meng-tse (sometimes translated from Japanese into English as “Mōshi”) are a touchstone in this regard:
When Heaven is about to confer a great office upon a man, it first exercises his mind with suffering and his sinews and bones with toil: it exposes him to poverty and confounds all his undertakings. Then it is seen if he is ready.
So put your protagonists through the wringer. This is the greatest service you can do them: showing who they are by showing what they're made of.
A variant on this theme: Spend a little time thinking, “What is the absolute worst thing that could happen to these characters in this story / in this world?” And when you’ve figured that out, stick it into one of those gaps as a Main Thing—ideally one between the story’s midpoint and its already-planned crisis, if you’ve got that in place—and then start thinking about how to best exploit it to show how terrific your characters can become if you kick them around a bit. (Addendum: you are allowed to have one Absolutely Terrific and Beautiful Thing happen to assist your characters in recovering from this awfulness. Because they deserve it; but also, all invented worlds [if you ask me] should have beautiful things in them—things to long for, things that make your reader wish they could live there. And that you find beautiful, and worth returning to. You are absolutely allowed to keep yourself entertained, and emotionally refreshed, while you’re creating.)
…Anyway, take your time about getting those gaps filled in. It may take a little while: laying down basic story structure is worth not rushing, if you can avoid it. Once you’ve got everything major in place, the secondary lists will follow more easily.
HTH!
*This is a hilarious oversimplification, but my job at the moment is not (as the saying goes) to explain the workings of the entire universe while standing on one foot. :)
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