#Shared Nothing Architecture
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kindahoping4forever · 10 months ago
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ngl I’m kind of living for the new house tour these recent videos are giving 😩🤌🏻👀 I wonder why he moved tbh
Oh yeah, that new place is gorgeous! I was just saying that I love how different this place feels from the previous one. All the exposed wood and pops of color with that splash of tile over the stove and all the stained glass. Much more of an old fashioned style compared to how sleek and modern the other house was.
There's plenty of reasons why he could've moved but to me, it's not too surprising considering he was the last of the guys to still be living in the same place from when they all bought homes what, 7, 8 years ago now. He was in his early 20s then, he's months out from 30 now. That's a lifetime to a young adult, especially one living such as hectic and eventful lives as these guys. Styles change, needs change. Plus it must be nice not having invasive randos know your address anymore 🤪
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ybklix · 4 months ago
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you can be the boss
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★ pairing: softdom!chrisbang x virginfem!reader
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☆summary: A rich hot older man, a slightly horny young woman, together in a hot summer in his house near the coastal zone. When you meet Chris, your step-aunt's new boyfriend, your world changes completely, and after a night of liquor and cigarettes, there's no going back to satisfy all your fantasies, you don't even care you're inexperienced.
✧ genre - warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, cheating, implied legal age gap, daddy kink, use of petnames, masturbation, corruption kink, fingering, clit play, oral sex, deepthroat, faceriding, cunnilingus, cumplay, chocking, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampies, mention of chris as a smoker.
word count: 9.5k
masterlist - taglist ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹
a/n: lana del rey literally invented the 4th of july, she’s so iconic, so proud of my CUNTry led by my president miss grant🫡❤️
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divider by chachachannah
The bright sunshine, the light sweat pouring from your forehead despite being inside your father's cool car made you feel young again, something in the air was so innocent and sweet that bright summer. Especially when he insisted you spend the summer with his wife's family, as if you were a little girl, you agreed, you had a very tedious and frustrating semester in college that you needed a distraction, plus a huge house with a yard, pool and near the beach didn't sound bad at all. You'd be doing nothing but sunbathing in your bathing suit, relaxing.
You walked onto the grounds of the house, it really was a mansion, the architecture was modern but there were some classic touches that for some reason got you. You were surprised, thinking that your 'aunt' really did get a rich man this time. Your father remarried when you were 17, to a woman 7 years younger than him who couldn't have children, so she always opened you up to her family, treating you sweetly, going to your high school graduation, and supporting you in your college career, so you met your stepmother's family, who had two sisters —she was the middle one— the oldest, Lilian, who had a daughter your age and you became close, however, you lived apart from each other; your stepmother Dahlia, and the youngest, Ruby, who was the prettiest of the three, was young, glamorous and kind; you weren't sure, but you thought she was at least twenty-nine or thirty and, that she got herself a rich boyfriend who kindly offered his summer home to her whole family.
Liv, Lilian's daughter greeted you as soon as you got out of the car, you felt small, like a young girl still close to your parents when you spent more time at college than with them for years. Liv hugged you briefly, making your sunglasses slip off and fall into your eyes, you both moved where the sun didn't hit you directly and greeted each other shyly.
“No shit, I have no idea where Aunt Ruby got her boyfriend from, but a house with a pool in this weather, is a house with a pool, I don't care” Liv spoke.
You let out a chuckle, you watched as Ruby came out of the doorway, and you walked over to greet her, after all somehow Dahlia always went out of her way to make you consider her as family, and she received your brief hug.
“Oh wow, you grew up a lot along with Liv, I haven't seen you since Christmas” she commented to which you smiled.
After that Ruby went over to her sister, you helped by carrying your luggage and walked into the house, it seemed unreal that you were going to be under someone stranger's roof, but at least you wouldn't be alone, Liv could distract you a bit.
“Girl, wait till you meet Ruby's boyfriend, he's kinda hot, not gonna lie” Liv whispered in your ear, helping you with your stuff and guiding you to the room you both would share.
Once inside the room you jokingly said to her, “So it's not about an old sugar daddy she found around?”
Liv pursed her lips and softly denied, “He's handsome, young, rich and has an accent. I think this summer will be fun… want to meet him?”
You nodded amused, curiosity consumed you; you and Liv spent hours talking behind Ruby's back about the strange and extravagant kind of life she led, it was a fun topic of conversation for you, you analyzed every partner she had, since she didn't know how to be alone, and just had girl talk, secreting and gossiping a little.
“Oh, honey, the cherry pie” your father reminded you once he saw you coming down the stairs.
You sighed, remembering that you had baked Ruby your cherry pie which she loved so much, just because, out of a mere act of kindness, and because your dad reminded you how much she was a fan of that dessert of yours and that you should at least give it to her as a thank you for spending the summer at her house, or her boyfriend's, rather.
You took the tart out of the car, Liv waited for you at the entrance of the house and then led you to the kitchen, where a very smiling and happy Ruby received your gift, thanking you and reminding you how delicious it should be. Liv was about to ask about Chris, Ruby's boyfriend and owner of the place, just so you could meet him and analyze him with your own eyes, but Ruby herself stepped forward saying:
“Oh, you haven't met Chris, have you? I think he's outside getting the pool ready better for you girls to swim in. I'll go get him.”
Liv raised her eyebrows and looked at you a little amused, again you felt small, giving funny looks to your cousin-friend; you had been so consumed by college that you had forgotten the simplicity of the little things. Ruby didn't take long, your father and stepmother already met Chris, as apparently he had been dating Ruby for a while and was quite serious, and once again, you lived in your college dorm and institution almost.
And the man appeared, you really didn't expect to see a man like him, with a downwards smile, a bit shy, but his presence was quite strong in the room; he was wearing a white t-shirt loose to his muscular body with the name and logo of a luxury brand, denim jeans up to his knees and sneakers. He looked young, and he was cute, and so attractive to your taste, but you wanted to instantly brush the thoughts away.
“Chris Bang, nice to meet you” he greeted, in a thick voice and a soft accent, just as your cousin had mentioned.
You returned his greeting, introducing yourself, Chris also didn't expect to meet two young and beautiful girls like Ruby's nieces, but you, there was something that caught his attention in you, it was rare, but you radiated innocence plus however your strong and piercing gaze contrasted with the rest of your tender appearance. You couldn't help but darken your gaze, you liked what you saw, he was attractive, he had a unique and clean face that you could watch for hours, the harmony of his face with his sharp, dark, small eyes, combining perfectly with his distinct nose and rosy lips, his slightly pale skin detonating small pink and tan undertones, you realized that never in your little more than twenty years of life had you ever paid so much attention to a man. You didn't understand what it was about him, besides being incredibly attractive, but something drew you to him.
“Thank you for letting us stay at your place…” you said, almost lost in him, you didn't know why you said it, maybe you just wanted to talk to him more.
“Oh, it's nothing, really.”
Chris licked his lips, staring at you, going over in his mind that if it was you the girl who wasn't directly blood related to Ruby.
“Oh, babe, Y/N brought us her cherry pie” Ruby spoke, clinging to her boyfriend's arm.
Liv held back her laughter at her aunt's immature attitude. Chris looked over to the counter.
“Did you bake it?” he asked.
You nodded, “Yeah, Ruby… Ruby really likes it.”
Chris leaned into the counter, leaning on his elbows and with his long fingers lightly played with the edge of the pie plate, you focused on his hands, so manly, big, slender and with visible veins running up his arms; then you returned your gaze to him who said, in a different tone, slower and looking deeply and directly into your eyes,
“I bet it tastes delicious.”
A shiver went down your spine, oh, you were liking it too much. Your cousin raised her eyebrows at his sudden action, instantly recognizing his gentle flirtation.
“Anyway, pool's ready” Chris added, standing up straight.
“Thanks, Chris, we'll go swimming now” Liv mentioned, trying to break the incredible tension or magnetism she suddenly felt between you and her aunt's boyfriend.
Liv grabbed your arm and almost dragged you into your room, pulling you out of your trance, you could only think about who he was and…. how was it that Ruby got him, even though you knew perfectly well that she was beautiful and had a bubbly personality; you thought about his hands, and his subtle comment that made your hair stand on end.
“C'mon babe, let's go swimming,” Liv told you, teasing her aunt for calling Chris 'babe.'
You blinked suddenly…. trying to get it out of your head and reacted, quickly grabbing your suitcase and pulling out your clothes almost in desperation, finding the most revealing swimsuit you packed, a red two-piece bikini; the rest of your swimsuits weren't cute, you were so indisposed with the idea of wearing something hot, since you thought it would just be you and Liv in the pool, so you packed shorts and old t-shirts to get wet and, clearly you were also expecting a middle-aged man not at all attractive to your taste, not a damn man like Chris.
You sighed, thinking you had to go into town to buy better swimsuits. And after you put on your bikini, you perused your makeup, you perfected it more, using your best waterproof mascara, blush, pink gloss, you didn't know what you were doing but you wanted to look good. You almost forgot Liv was there, you didn't give a shit how obvious you acted, primping with effort. Chris had awakened something in you that you hadn't sensed before, it was as if he suddenly gave meaning and fun to your monotonous college life, you suddenly felt like a complete attention whore, wanting his eyes on you all the time.
Your cousin also wore a cute blue plaid print bikini, had two braids done and grabbed her sunglasses, reminding you to take yours, replacing the ones you had when you arrived, with red heart-shaped sunglasses. You sighed as you looked at Liv, she had very nice round breasts, and you thought, how funny and in a way, dirty, the way you two would walk around, being walking temptations to an unknown man.
“Would it be too much to ask Chris to put sunscreen on our backs?” she commented jokingly with a pout and with the bottle of sunscreen in her hand, to which you laughed.
And you both left, grabbing towels, your cell phones, heading towards the backyard at the pool. You took the time to admire the scenery and noticed that a few miles from the large pool was a small pool house. Once again, unable to believe you were in the home of a millionaire and unknown man, about to swim in his pool, it was so unreal, like something that only happened in the movies.
Chris bit his lip as he watched them both, replaying in his mind fuck, over and over again, it was the perfect fantasy, two pretty young twenty-something girls in bikinis at his house, about to enter the pool, getting their young bodies wet. He wasn't being the strongest soldier, and an immensity of dirty thoughts filled him completely. He took one more puff on his cigarette, this time deeper and more intense, trying to keep himself occupied and de-stressed by the incredible desire he had to fuck them both; thinking that it would be a very long and frustrating summer, and that he would end up finishing a pack in minutes if he decided to use nicotine as an escape from his dirty thoughts.
Did he love Ruby? Of course, more than anything in the world, but he was also a man with such an active libido, incredible imagination and great sexual energy. You both noticed him, on the other side of the pool, a little far away, and for some reason you found him more attractive when you saw him smoking. Chris' intention wasn't to see you, he swore, he was just hiding from his girlfriend because she hates his smoking habit. And after meeting you, damn, he really needed a cigarette.
“Hey Chris” Liv greeted him cheerfully waving her hand, to which he responded with a soft smile, raising his eyebrows and his right hand with which he held the cigarette.
She turned to you, “I hate him so much, if he marries Ruby he'll really be my uncle and it'll be gross.”
You smiled apologetically at her sudden comments, but suddenly your mind short circuited, “Marry?”
Liv sat down in one of the chairs, leaning back and relaxing her body, picking up her book ready to rest and read.
“Mmm, honestly I give them two months tops” she added disinterested, “I haven't been aware since I also live in college, but apparently they've been dating since January, I also got a big surprise today when I met him.”
January, you thought, that made them in a six month relationship, pretty long for Ruby. You questioned whether it was really a serious relationship. You pouted and sat on the chair next to her, and convinced yourself that if nothing happened, which was most ideal and the most likely option —plus you were still a virgin— you could at least think about him and have your little summer crush to keep your mind busy.
“Aren't you going to get in the pool?” you asked.
“Mmm yeah, sure, but I want to get some sun.”
You let out an incredulous airy chuckle as Liv was in the shade, not getting any direct sun. And you were about to stand up and swim, but you noticed the sudden and noticeable presence of Chris near you, this time his intentions were clear and not at all innocent, he just wanted to see your semi naked bodies more closely and in detail. He stood in the middle of the two chairs, with his hands in the pockets of his shorts, you watched him, gently lowering your heart shaped sunglasses on the bridge of your nose and raising your eyes.
“Enjoying your summer girls?” he said to which you and Liv nodded a little confused by his sudden closeness, “Do you mind if I join you?”
Liv smiled playfully, closing her book completely, “Of course not” she replied.
But Chris was only looking at you, and you felt it, you had achieved your goal, he couldn't take his eyes off you, off your body in that red bikini and your glossy, full lips. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for an answer from you, which his gaze suddenly made you nervous.
“Sure, join us” was all you could say with your heart pounding.
“I'll be right back” he replied, walking away from you and into his house.
You and Liv looked at each other complicitly, almost feeling like you were about to do something wrong but it felt so right. You didn't understand how you went from somewhat flirtatious and confused, to feeling nervous around him.
“Oh, he's such a fucking whore” Liv added.
She didn't take Chris and Ruby's relationship very seriously, truly. But you were beginning to question so many things, but you couldn't help but want him so badly, you've never been so curious about a man, you wanted him, you needed him.
Minutes later, he appeared, wearing black sport shorts a little loose on his thighs, but tight enough for his member to be suggestively visible and noticeable, again, that was not Chris's intention, he couldn't help but have a nice penis, and that you two had to witness that. In a way you were thankful that you were wearing dark sunglasses and could blatantly see his silhouette, his strong arms and worked chest area over his tight white sleeveless shirt.
You were already in the pool, so Chris joined you, putting on a black cap before getting in and gradually getting in, wetting his body little by little.
“Agh, the water is nice” he added, getting his body completely wet, his marked abs and pecs showing through the thin fabric of the shirt.
Your heart raced again, you couldn't believe Ruby had him every day while you and Liv only had hair loss from the stress of your college. You and Liv stood transfixed watching him, as if it was such an entertaining spectacle. And when he approached, you both snapped out of your trance and pretended to look away, which Chris noticed and smirked, yes he knew he was all handsome and hot, but he was curious to know if you two also considered yourselves that way to such a degree that you dared to flirt with him.
And you began to play mindlessly, ball games, Liv getting on a float, swimming, all with Chris's nerve to watch your wet young bodies, watching the sun beat down on your skins; then you wanted to mimic Liv, getting on a float but found it difficult to get on somehow, to which Chris quickly took advantage, once again leaving Liv surprised.
“Let me help you” he whispered to you, holding your exposed waist to carry you up and onto the float.
Your breathing and heart stopped for a moment, his big hands on your waist felt so good, you couldn't believe he dared to touch you, you didn't want to make it a big deal, you wanted to believe he just did it out of kindness but you were screaming with excitement internally.
A little awkwardly, giving him the view of your ass and thighs, you were able to climb on, shyly whispering thank you. Chris swallowed nervously, your semi-naked skin made him feel good and your ankle accidentally brushed against his member as he lifted you up. He needed another cigarette to forget about you for a few moments, or he definitely had to try you. It wasn't news that, he before Ruby, was quite the gentleman who loved to enjoy the pleasures of sex with different women.
“And don't you have a farm sort of place to spend the winter when it snows?” suddenly blurted out Liv.
“Do you want to spend the winter with me too? Do you like me that much?” he joked.
“Sure, you're the best, Uncle Chris” your cousin replied again in amusement.
He grimaced in disgust, he loved it when girls called him daddy in bed, or just as a form of endearment, when he rarely messed with women relatively much younger to him, but uncle, coming from another young woman who he considered highly attractive, didn't like the idea.
“Uh no, just Chris, please,” and then he turned to you, “And you, you're not directly related to Ruby, are you?”
“She's family, but not by blood” replied Liv innocently, but Chris was a little annoyed, as he wanted to hear you talk , so he still didn't take his expectant gaze off you.
“My father married Ruby's sister” you replied, almost just to humor him and get him to take off that expression of waiting to hear you speak because it was making you nervous.
“I know” he whispered.
And before long you knew a little more about him, that he is an architect with his own company, his parents are two of the top lawyers, that he knows three languages and has a passion for technology like computers or things like that and, the question that gnawed at them both and Liv asked, how did he meet Ruby, as he seemed quite busy and an extremely wealthy and decent man, but just at the mention of her, she appeared. She had taken a nap and suddenly wondered where her boyfriend was, to which her surprise, he was friendly talking to her two young nieces inside the pool, while they were wearing a bikini, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous, but decided to put it aside, and wanted to be a cool aunt:
“Let's give the girls some drinks, they're old enough.”
Chris thought how old enough, looking appreciatively at your body on the float, wearing your red bikini and your heart-shaped glasses of the same color. How old enough were you, that you could handle being with him? He wanted to know more about you and questioned himself why he had never met you before, although his answer was obvious to him, usually Chris didn't look for young and college girls, it was very strange the occasion when he decided to sleep with them and spoil them —as it is one of his techniques— he still considered them so young and naive, even a little bit kooky and spoiled… but you, he bit his lip again, thinking that he could very well be your daddy, and that he would love to spoil you and spank your young ass. He loved being dominant but it was very strange the situation where his mind formulated these ideas of wanting to take care of a naive woman and give her everything, being slightly careful, and you had exactly aroused those thoughts in him.
Ruby also got into the pool, showing off her impressive figure, leaving Chris a little shocked, but he couldn't stop thinking about you. You looked away, unwilling to see them together.
[…]
For the rest of the evening you caught up on Liv's life, as she recounted her sexual encounters, her love life status, her college environment until it was time for dinner.
You couldn't help but think that it didn't matter if you flirted, if anything happened, you wouldn't know what to do and probably wouldn't satisfy him, you were inexperienced and a virgin, which you never made a big deal about it, but for some reason you thought about so many sexual things lately since he awakened your desire.
Dinner was normal and a little strange, eating all together, your last family dinner was maybe on your birthday. And Chris realized that your father and he were the only men, so he thought at one point to invite one of his closest friends, plus he needed him, the tension between you and Chris was growing, or at least his desire for you.
The next morning you went downstairs for breakfast, not even hungry, but you just wanted to see Chris, but he wasn't there since he was supposedly still working and you didn't see him until the afternoon. You took the opportunity to update your swimsuits and take a walk to the beach with Liv. Chris was also confused not to find you at his house, until he saw you arrive with shopping bags.
That evening he convinced his close friend Minho to stay with him too for the summer as Chris had to confess to him the reason and Minho saw with his own eyes and understood why.
Once again you wanted Chris' attention and you had no choice but to go out dressed up all the time, feeling cute, since you kind of sucked at flirting. And you got the pleasant surprise of finding another handsome man next to him.
Chris introduced Minho to you and Liv, and your mind flew with the crazy idea of a man for each other, that maybe so at least Liv would stop thinking about Chris a little bit, because honestly you wanted him for yourself only, when he was already taken, and wasn't yours in the first place. But you weren't the only one with that crazy thought, Liv was so happy that Chris got her own handsome older man to have fun with in the summer.
Minho was also so handsome, he had a muscular body too but his features were softer to Chris'. He also looked intimidating.
The next day was odder, Liv and Minho disappeared, leaving you in disbelief with the ease of things that circumstances work, when both are single, or at least you wanted to believe that Minho was single, or honestly you could care less, at least Liv didn't know his life that much, let alone if he was in a relationship with someone so the guilt didn't exist in her body; but in yours it did, Chris was Ruby's and you couldn't even hate her, your stepmother's whole family was so sweet to you, Dahlia thought you were a real daughter to her because she could never conceive and was afraid to adopt.
You were bored without Liv, you sent her messages but she didn't answer, she must be having a great day in Minho's arms, but lucky her, you thought between sighs; so bored you started to explore the house a bit until you reached a long hallway, at the end of it you saw that there was a family photograph which caught your attention, there were not so many memories of family photos of Chris so it caught your attention and you approached it, next to it there was a large room, which had the door open and you stopped in your tracks when you realized that it was Chris' office, and that he was sitting behind his desk, who quickly heard your footsteps and turned to see you.
You didn't know what to do and smiled nervously at him and he amusedly thought that all ways always led you to him. Chris quickly stood up from his chair, put his pencil aside as he was working on a project and walked dangerously close to you.
“You were looking for me?”
His flirtatious tone and the way he gently raised his eyebrow gave you chills again.
You denied, but you didn't want to get away from him.
“But I found you” you replied.
He invited you in with his gaze, closing the door once you entered, you looked around the place and Chris looked boldly at you. Your young, bare legs with your tiny skirt and your slightly carefree look as you were comfortable in his home.
Chris without thinking, went to his desk and out of habit took a cigarette, he couldn't help it, he was a recurrent smoker, not an addict, but he liked to smoke one or two cigarettes a day, or two cigarettes one day and then quit for several days without a problem, but just now he couldn't think about anything but enjoying your company, your presence and aroma combined with a little of his nicotine.
You thought that even though he smoked and you didn't like the smell, on him, he looked good and you liked him, you liked him so much that you forgot your little inconveniences and thought he didn't smell of cigarettes, he had a strong scent of a manly perfume that you found highly pleasing.
Chris put his cig between his lips and you saw him take another one, thinking he was going to offer you one but you noticed he took a pen and with his big hands, which drove you crazy and you had recurring thoughts of his fingers in your mouth, you saw he wrote a series of numbers on the cigarette; he took a lighter and lit his cigarette quickly, taking his first puff, sucking air between his teeth and then holding the cigarette delicately between his two fingers, then passing you the cigarette with the written numbers and saying to you:
“Do you want it?”
You took it, only to see the numbers on what you quickly noticed was a phone number and before he took the lighter once more you said, “I don't smoke.”
“Well, that's my phone number, since apparently it looks a little bad for us to be together and we need to be more discreet.”
Your mind stopped processing what he said, he inhaled again from the cigarette, exhaling all the smoke, losing it in the bright sunlight coming through the windows, he looked so fucking hot your legs were almost starting to shake, he walked over to you and put his free hand on your waist.
“Let's have fun this summer, I know you want me and I can't get you out of my fucking head” he spoke and you felt it unreal, for a moment you stopped thinking about everyone, it was just Chris and you, fuck the rest, “Relax a little with me, I don't bite unless you ask me to” he whispered, leaning into your ear, noticing your tense body.
He pulled away, stubbing out his cigarette in his ashtray and sitting back in his chair.
“Come here” he ordered patting his thigh.
He was wearing a white button up shirt and black formal cloth pants, you were so wet at his appearance, you were wet knowing he was older than you and dressed elegantly, you were wet at the way he asked you to sit on his lap.
Chris couldn't take it anymore, from the first night he met you, after seeing you so provocative in your bikini, he masturbated thinking about you, pulling and stroking his cock hard, filling his mind with scenarios where you were all needy, wet, making a mess and begging for him, until he cummed. He couldn't even fuck his girlfriend, his cock only reacted to you apparently. He needed you, all day he thought about how his friend did get to fuck the other girl with no problem while he was stuck there, but not anymore as you happily sat on his lap, feeling so happy, feeling the friction of fabric of his pants on your thighs as you moved to get comfortable, causing him tenderness at your reaction.
“Mmm, I guess you want it too by obey me, don't you babygirl?” he murmured, caressing your thighs and making you shiver.
Your mind spun like crazy, wanting what what, you didn't know but yes, you needed him like you had never needed anyone, your mind was lost in his closeness and that it's finally happening. You really tried to be strong too, but you lost it. He was caressing you, bringing his hands up tentatively so high almost in your intimate zone.
“Yes…” you answered in a whisper.
“Then just kiss me, babygirl, I'm dying to taste your lips since the first moment I saw you.”
You turned your face and met the closeness of his, without thinking too much, you joined your lips with his, feeling his slight cigarette taste together with a soft and fresh sensation, your hand shyly rested from his shoulder, your inside was burning, you felt as if fireworks were detaching inside you. At first it was sweet and gentle, but then he changed his pace to something slower but desperate and lustful, opening your mouth and feeling his expert tongue caress your cavity, leaving you breathless but addicted to the feel of each other.
Chris found his way to your pussy, opening your legs slightly and without wasting time, he pushed the fabric of your panties aside, playing with your clit, making you gasp and take a moment away from his lips. You were now focused on his fingertips caressing you.
Chris licked his lips, leering at you and admiring the slight trembling of your body from pleasure. By this point, he too was already so hard with an erection protruding from his pants.
“You're so wet and needy, let me take care of you” he moaned.
You were almost about to cum with his caresses on your clit, his movements on it, his light pinching and pressure towards it, turning you on so much, but his fingers went down your wet folds, in search of your entrance and, you realized what he would do, it still surprised and hurt a little to feel two of his fingers inside you. You moaned louder at the sensation of his digits sliding into your virgin hole, as did Chris who let out a groan, unable to believe you were so tight, even being in that position, sitting on his lap, there was no reason for your insides to squeeze his fingers so tight, he had never felt a pussy like that before, like yours, he love every second of it, he was obsessed.
“Fuck” blubbered Chris, “You like that, don't you, little doll?”
You whimpered high pitched in response, his fingers began to penetrate you and his thumb went back to caressing your clit and labia, making you feel like you had never felt before. You were so hot, you wanted to strip off all your clothes and feel something bigger fill your pussy, you were a mess, moaning and shivering at his hand on your cunt.
“Tell daddy how much you like it, babygirl, call me daddy when I'm touching so good your pussy” he gasped.
“Yes, daddy I love it, please don't stop” you whimpered in a squeak, feeling your orgasm so close as your heart pounded intensely.
Your first orgasm caused by a man. Daddy, daddy, daddy, you thought it fit him so well, he was older than you, and you could tell he liked to be in control. He could command you whatever he wanted, he could be in charge, your panties got wetter as you fantasized about how dominant he was. He was so hard, analyzing every part of you and enjoying your body fading for him.
You were about to cum, your pussy moistening Chris's fingers more and more, your thighs quivering and the feeling of clenching in your stomach, you were so close… but the sound of heels down the hall and door handle turning startled you too much, Chris removed his fingers from you abruptly, hurting you a little but you stood up instantly, adjusting your skirt and resting your hands on his desk, turning your back to the door. Chris picked up a book that was on his desk, opened it and held it with his hand whose fingers were touching you earlier, over his cock, at an angle where you couldn't see his erection and the small wet spot you left on his pants.
“Hey” you heard and turned your body, hiding the cigarette and found Ruby all smiles but then grimaced, “Fuck, Chris, did you smoke here? Anyways, Liv and Minho arrived with the shoppings, should I start the… grill?”
You and Chris simultaneously looked at each other, looking scared and guilty.
“No, it's okay baby, I'll go downstairs in a minute.”
“Oh, you found each other, didn't you” Ruby added, leaving you confused, “Y/n it's a little artist too, she draws and paints well” she confirmed, referencing that Chris was doing a sketch.
He didn't know that and wanted to know more about you. But fate was not in your favor this time.
“Are you okay, honey, you're sweating and look a little red?” said Ruby worriedly.
You were so wet and hot, your fluids bothered you, but you had to pretend to be okay, so much so that you went outside pretending nothing was wrong, watching the stupid grill burn, almost as much as your insides, you kept fantasizing if Ruby hadn't interrupted you what would have happened, maybe you would have tasted and had another piece of meat in your mouth before the one Minho was cooking.
You watched him, who stood next to Minho, looking manly grilling the meat. Chris had changed his clothes, now wearing jeans and a black sleeveless shirt. You felt a little jealous that you didn't even want to ask Liv if anything happened with Minho, you wanted your own moment with Chris no matter what. Chris noticed your look and in a whisper said to his friend:
“I kissed her and touched her.”
“Woah, good for you dude, what did I tell you about college girls? They are all trouble makers but they know how to take care of you very well” Minho encouraged him smilingly, giving him a friendly pat.
“But we were interrupted and now I feel guilty, I don't think I should have done it…”
You took your phone and amidst impatience, texted him, just telling him Hey and watched as he immediately pulled his phone out of his pocket, seeing the message but ignored it.
“My sexual fantasy is a threesome with Minho and Chris, imagine their two cocks pleasuring you. I'm kinda horny right now” Liv spoke as if nothing, seeing herself on her cell phone camera, snapping you out of your trance.
So were you. In fact she was talking but you weren't paying attention, you weren't that greedy, Chris's cock was really enough for you.
[…]
It was late at night, everyone was sleeping, but you noticed the pool house light on through the window, you didn't know what it was about, but you were thankful that you were a little lazy to remove your makeup and quietly put your clothes back on, taking off your pajamas, with the slightest hope that, maybe it was Chris being alone, or in the worst case, him with his girlfriend.
You texted him but he didn't respond and you were impatient so you carefully went downstairs quietly and managed to get outside, walking up to the property and slowly entered the house, which was literally another house, just a little smaller. And you found Chris with his back turned sitting in the chairs leaning against the kitchen counter.
He turned to see who it was and smiled broadly at the sight of you. You also noticed that he was drinking and smoking, or at least you saw a couple of cigarettes in the ashtray and apparently he was alone. You approached him, so excited with adrenaline at its peak to see that he could be all by himself. He smiled at you, so wide that he narrowed his eyes, he wasn't expecting you but he was just thinking about you, he couldn't sleep, you drove him crazy, when he saw you, it seemed almost like a dream since he was starting to get a little drunk.
You sat down on the chair next to him and noticed his almost empty glass of hard liquor.
“What are you doing here?” you whispered to him.
“I'm just… drinking a little” he replied, his tone of voice low and almost slurring his words.
“By yourself?”
“Minho just left, wanna join me?”
You shook your head softly, you really didn't want to drink, you wanted to kiss him passionately, and more so knowing you were alone. But Chris went there because he couldn't sleep and he kept thinking about it in that he felt a little guilty but at the same time he wanted to do so many things to you, you looked innocent, you were young and his deepest desire was to corrupt you so badly.
You decided to get bold and just blurted out:
“Why don't we continue what we were doing… I didn't get to cum.”
Chris let out a chuckle in disbelief at your comment and analyzed you, from your face with your makeup intact, to your thighs uncovered by your skirt with very easy access to him.
“Who would have thought, you look so innocent… but you are quite the dirty little whore. You want me to make you cum, huh?”
His comment made your skin bristle and gave you shivers, both for your body, and for your pussy, causing it to twinge with arousal in your sensitive core. Everything about him turned you on so much.
“Yes…”
“And what will you do for me?” he asked so quickly as soon as you answered, looking at you defiantly.
You stood there thinking for a few seconds, "You want… me to make you cum too?" you spoke uncertainly.
“I wanna see it” he challenged you, “I like you a lot” he confessed, getting carried away with the moment and the alcohol doing its thing.
You smiled, stood up from the chair and moved closer to him, Chris turned his body and let position yours between his legs, you wrapped your arms around his neck, he grabbed your waist and you, close to his lips, reciprocated his confession.
“I like you a lot too, Chris.”
He smiled, coming back to all his senses, leaving the effect of the alcohol aside, so awake and ready for you, he raised his eyebrows, wanting to correct you, lowering his hands to your ass, you understood immediately.
“I like you, daddy” you repeated.
“That's my good girl.”
You felt your body burn on fire, that had sounded so good to you, more so coming from his voice and him. You moved in with a smile to kiss him, savoring the taste of the liquor on his full lips, spending long minutes of him running down your body and both of you completely lost in each other's lips, feeling his tongue and nose collide on your face, kissing was such an intimate act, something you loved to do with Chris, whose erection in his pants grew sky high, his throbbing cock ready to be used.
Chris couldn't take it anymore, he wanted your pretty mouth around his cock, he wanted to fuck your throat until he made you cry. As he pulled away he admired your heaving breathing and swollen lips, he thought this was just the beginning of more to come.
“Fuck” he whispered with a little pain from his erection stuck in his jeans.
You watched him, for a few seconds somewhat transfixed and realized he was just as turned on as you were, you stared at the bulge in his pants, not wanting to wait any longer to get his cock out at once, but he went ahead to say.
“C'mon babygirl, feel how hard daddy is for you, and make me feel good, be a good girl.”
You got so excited, as if you had won a prize and lowered your arms off his shoulders so you could feel his hard member between the also tough denim of his jeans. You bit your lip and unbuttoned his pants. Chris gasped, breathing raggedly knowing you were about to attend to his cock. You finally released it, wanting to experience everything with it and getting the big surprise of how nice and big it looked, just as veiny as his arms. You took it, completely forgetting that you were a poor college virgin girl and, that he would most likely end up fucking you and you couldn't agree more, you could remember that your virginity was taken by a man who knows what he's doing, millionaire, incredibly handsome with a colossal cock to die for.
You stroked his glans with your thumb and spread his precum over his length, it was your first time feeling a penis in your hand, for the moment, at least Chris's, it felt so good, its texture was smooth but his muscle was so tight and rigid. Chris for his part, gasped enjoying the feel of your hands on his cock and watched you look so impressed, almost as if you were studying every part of his anatomy, making you look a little more innocent but daring.
You acted with common sense, and began to slide your hands up and down his member, stroking his length from top to bottom, making him feel great. Chris bit his lip and inhaled air between his teeth, so excited he could cum right then and there. He didn't know exactly how to ask you, but he really wanted your mouth on his cock.
“Babygirl, use your mouth please, please” Chris babbled, caressing your face, admiring it before it was ruined by his cock in your mouth and the constant motion.
Your pussy throbbed harder at the thought of sucking him off and you dropped to your knees, unconsciously sighing nervously, making Chris feel the warm air of your sigh, now giving him shivers of pure arousal.
You looked into his eyes before bringing his cock closer to your mouth, to which he looked at you approvingly, subtly shaking his head encouraging you to do so.
You stuck out your tongue and licked his entire length, losing more and more strength, you were so aroused, trembling and twitching with your hot body, until he said,
“Open your mouth wide, baby doll.”
He helped you a little, guiding his cock into your mouth, finally slowly pushing it in, doing your best to make him enjoy it, which you felt a knot in your stomach of nervousness and excitement as Chris moaned loudly, letting you know you were getting off to a good start. He fisted your hair, completely ready to be satisfied.
You sucked his cock, sucking your cheeks and giving your best effort to get as much of his length as you could deep inside your cavity. Chris moaned again incredibly enjoying the also tightness of your mouth and softness of the inside of your cheeks. He watched you the whole time, your lips wrapped around his cock, the tender expression of concentration and struggle on your face, he could cum just from the image of you taking his length.
You started to move, his whole member didn't fit in your cavity, but you did your best, your eyes were starting to bother you a little, you were starting to form little tears, your nose got slick and your jaw hurt a little, but it was worth it, it was so worth it, Chris's moans were so hot to you that you never wanted to stop. You began to move your mouth, taking as much as you could, making Chris lose his sanity little by little, he helped you, pulling on your hair gently and pushing your head to move up and down exquisitely. Your movements were imperfect but from your little details Chris became more aroused and fantasized about your innocence again.
Your saliva combined with his precum began to slip from your lips and you took a breath, pulling his cock out of your mouth, Chris took advantage and quickly stood up from his chair, you looked with confusion at his action and he lifted your chin with his fingers, making you stare into his eyes.
“You're doing great, good girl, but let daddy fuck your throat, are you okay with that?”
Your eyes sparkled brighter despite the little tears you shed, you were scared but nodded so excited. “Yes, daddy” you said.
Chris took his cock almost by its base and opened his mouth slightly indicating you to do the same, causing you tenderness, and you did, his cock and your mouth meeting again, inserting it little by little, until you felt his skin tickle your uvula, your body shuddered, you closed your eyes tightly, he was huge, but you tried to hold back with all your might your gag reflex, Chris shifted his hips and finally you felt his cock sliding down your throat, taking him pure to heaven, you thought of everything, of Chris swimming next to you, of you sitting on his lap, trying to forget the slight discomfort and tingling that his penis was causing in your throat. Chris gasped loudly, and began to move gently, ramming into you, completely filled with sexual pleasure at the feel of his cock inside another strategic spot of yours.
You looked up at him, your watery eyes begging for mercy, your body was weak and your stomach sensitive; you cried harder, drooling non-stop, dripping his testicles and even the floor; unable to breathe or speak, just his balls rubbing against your face, his pubic area bumping against your nose and his cock stretching your throat, with his glans rubbing against your esophagus. You were doing so well, for your first time, and Chris was so happy to remind you of it, moaning senselessly completely lost amidst the pleasure, babbling swear words and whimpering, “You feel so good, babygirl, I'm gonna cum in your throat sweetie.”
But you felt so good, in desperation and helpless, with nothing to do but obey him and make him feel good, your pussy throbbed harder and harder, with the same intensity of an orgasm but you weren't sure if you were about to cum.
You felt Chris's body tremble, a loud gasp escaped his lips and you felt the shot of his hot cum inside your pharynx, he was having a wonderful orgasm like he had never had before, even making him shudder and lose his sanity and consciousness; Chris gently tugged at your hair, gently pulling his cock out of you so as not to hurt you, while he kept collapsing in his orgasm, cumming still on your tongue inside your mouth, spilling a few drops around your mouth.
“Good girl, swallow everything, there you go, good princess” he spoke softly caressing your face, watching you swallow hard and with heavy breathing “C'mon up here. Look at you, your face is a mess, my pretty baby. So fucked up for daddy's cock.”
He smirked at the sight of your face stained red, your cheeks shiny from your tears and your lips dirty and swollen from him.
You stood up and Chris wiped your chin stained in his cum with his thumb and then slipped it into your mouth, which you sucked it hard.
“Let's go to the room” he spoke excitedly, arranging his cock in his underwear and pants to take you by your wrist and lead you to the room.
You were surprised that it could practically be a small apartment with all the amenities with no problem and once you entered his room, he kissed you wildly again, tasting his own cum, feeling the wetness of your lips, and began to undress you, yanking off your skirt, parting from you to remove your top and bra and leaving the best part of taking off your panties at the end.
Chris bit his lip as he slid your panties off, bending down and placing soft kisses on your lower belly all the way down to your mons pubis.
“Fuck, you're beautiful, babydoll.”
He kissed your skin, to then put his warm tongue in and sticking his lips tightly to finally suck, leaving a mark on you and making you gasp softly, he looked up, searching your gaze, leering at you playfully, he couldn't believe he finally had you all to himself. Chris stood back up and quickly began to undress as well, leaving you dumbfounded at how incredibly attractive he looked as he lifted his strong arms to remove his shirt, unbuttoning his pants and nimbly removing his them along his underwear, as you finally stood naked in front of each other, with his prominent and slightly intimidating cock exposed, it dawned on you that, it was tonight the night you would lose your virginity.
He leaned close to your ear, whispering hotly, “I want your pretty pussy in my face, sit on daddy's face princess, please.”
You shivered and watched as Chris lay back on the bed, you quickly followed him, biting your lip unsure how you would do it, but completely sure what it was all about. You climbed onto the bed and positioned your pussy in his mouth, embarrassed to let yourself fall into it, but you did, giving a little jump of shock as you felt his tongue on your vulva, Chris took hold of your thighs, to lift you up and guide your pussy to his liking and disposal. You felt his fleshy lips kiss the full length of your folds and his big nose squeezing your vulva hard each time he gently shifted positions in your pussy, making the sensation a hundred times better. Chris licked and sucked intensely and thoroughly on your clit, making your thighs quiver in desperation and pleasure, you were so close but for some reason the sensation of your near orgasm was dragging on longer and longer, building up in intensity; Chris slid his tongue, licking your labia and reaching your entrance, sucking making a soft, sonorous slurping sound of your soaking wet pussy. You were on cloud nine, completely out of thoughts, your vision blurred and enjoying your first oral sex, with an older man who was an expert at every single thing he did, you couldn't have asked for anything better.
Chris lifted you up a little and said:
“Ride me, babygirl, fuck my tongue, move over, fuck.”
Then inserted his tongue inside you, making you gasp loudly, even his tongue was reaching a sweet spot in you that made you lose your mind again. You began to move, back and forth, enjoying the sensation of him; you threw your head back with your eyes rolling, Chris caressed your breasts with one hand, pinching your nipples, then bringing that hand quickly to his cock, as it was twitching, and ached a little, Chris stroked his cock and cum intensely in his abs. Sliding scattered drops down his length. Boy had he loved eating you and the delicious taste of your young fluids.
Finally, you came to your orgasm too, so intensely that you felt sorry for yourself at the thought that maybe you had made a mess on Chris. But he was so happy, tasting every drop of you. Awkwardly, you went down on top of him, and dropped your exhausted body on the bed, with the slightest idea that maybe it still left him wanting to fuck you… still you reminded him:
“That was great, daddy, th-thank you.”
Your chest heaved up and down, your world was a blur, the sensations were so new and good to you that your delicate body was exhausted.
“Oh, my pretty baby,” Chris said tenderly.
He sat up, wiping his mouth and chin, parting your legs and positioning his face dangerously in front of your pussy. A mischievous grin formed on his face.
“I'm gonna fuck your pretty pussy, baby, daddy's not done with you yet.”
Chris went back to stroking your clit with his fingertips, getting you wet in seconds. He watched you, panting and a mess for quite a while but Chris wouldn't stop until he felt your guts. An electric shiver ran down your spine, Chris stopped stroking your clit, spit on your vulva, positioned himself and took his erection, rubbing and stroking in your folds his hard length in your puffy, well lubricated pussy, making you more needy until at last, you felt his tip slide into your orifice, stretching every muscle at your entrance, gradually filling your insides, causing Chris to whimper halfheartedly at the sensation of your core deliciously smothering his cock. You gasped in pain and pleasure until you felt his glans tingle deep inside you in your cervix, Chris finally popped your cherry that night. You were a woman now, at least in a context of traditional and conservative phrases, wishing you were his woman every day.
You were a little sore, but so excited, you still asked him, “Da-dddy, can you move slow, please?”
He smiled tenderly at you, “Whatever my babydoll asks.”
His cock was buried in your core and Chris began to gently ram your pussy, kissing you slowly on the lips and moving his caresses down to your neck, it felt so good and when you finally felt you had gotten used to and adjusted to his size, you shyly asked him:
“F-faster daddy, please” you stammered.
Chris smiled sideways and started ramming you deeper and faster, sliding carelessly into your walls, making you gasp in pain but it felt so good, his cock filling every inch of you, you couldn't help but feel haunted by the sensation. Your thighs squeezed his body and your body began to move uncontrollably, your breasts jiggled roughly at each thrust and your insides burned with desire and for his big new visitor. His body collided with yours non-stop, you were breathless, aching and about to cum intensely.
Chris was babbling and moaning things you couldn't understand, he was so close to cumming in you, completely fixated on your insides squeezing his cock. You arched your back, contracting your body, ready to release in your second orgasm.
“Cum for me, fuck, cum on daddy's cock. You like that huh? You like to be fucked hard?”
“Fuuuck, daddy yesss” you squealed, cumming and wetting his cock.
You fell down in surrender, Chris rammed you a couple of times, deeper to climax in you, with the sensation of his cum shot hitting your cervix. Chris pulled out of you, admiring the dirty artistry of your little hole quivering and spurting his bright white cum. Getting him hard in seconds again. Satisfying him so much by leaving you so weak.
“And I'm not done yet, princess.”
You blinked suddenly and Chris grabbed your arm, making you turn around, he opened your folds, exposing your newly destroyed hole, still wet in each other's cum and, he pushed his cock back into you, making you whimper, you were barely recovering when you felt the firmness of his huge cock again in your walls, this time he went in fast, his whole cock, ramming into your pussy, hitting your ass because you didn't even have time to settle, you were lying down, face down, panting and somehow, extremely aroused again.
Chris pounded you hard again, so brutal and primal releasing every frustration of his in your weak body, ramming you hard, making your ass vibrate every time his pelvis and balls collapsed into you. He moved in on you, his arm headlocking you, tightening his grip harder and harder, cutting off your breath slowly without stopping thrusting hard into you.
“You like that, don't you sweet baby? Fuck! You feel so good.”
You couldn't even answer him, besides the fact that he was slowly suffocating you, you couldn't think clearly, you only heard his gasps, yours and the sound of your bodies colliding at such a frantic act. You were so close, just as he was, your breathing was completely cut off, you heard his panting close to your ear, this time you trembled more intensely, and your vision blurred more, begging for air, but in desperation, you cum intensely, almost making yourself cry. Chris softened his grip, letting you catch your breath and cum in you again, spurting out quickly and ejaculating a few loads in your ass.
You couldn't take it anymore. You even forgot your name. You could only remember Chris, who pushed your hair aside and kissed your back.
“That was amazing, beautiful. We're going to have a really fun summer.”
He couldn't help but think of all the ways he wanted to fuck you, treating you like a doll, showering you with pampering afterwards, but damn it, he had to break up with his girlfriend.
You were trying to come back to your senses, but you were so tired and could only think that, somehow, you loved him, and didn't know exactly why.
-----------------------------
𐙚TAGLIST: @rylea08 @hann1bee @iovecb97 @armystay89
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spacelazarwolf · 11 months ago
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in honor of that anon who said jews have done nothing for the world, here’s a non exhaustive list of things we’ve done for the world:
arts, fashion, and lifestyle:
jeans - levi strauss
modern bras - ida rosenthal
sewing machines - isaac merritt singer
modern film industry - carl laemmle (universal pictures), adolph zukor (paramount pictures), william fox (fox film forporation), louis b. mayer (mgm - metro-goldwyn-mayer), harry, sam, albert, and jack warners (warner bros.), steven spielberg, mel brooks, marx brothers
operetta - jacques offenbach
comic books - stan lee
graphic novels - will eisner
teddy bears - morris and rose michtom
influential musicians - irving berlin, stephen sondheim, benny goodman, george gershwin, paul simon, itzhak perlman, leonard bernstein, bob dylan, leonard cohen
artists - mark rothko
actors - elizabeth taylor, jerry lewis, barbara streisand
comedians - lenny bruce, joan rivers, jerry seinfeld
authors - judy blume, tony kushner, allen ginsberg, walter mosley
culture:
esperanto - ludwik lazar zamenhof
feminism - betty friedan, gloria steinem, ruth bader ginsberg
queer and trans rights - larry kramer, harvey milk, leslie feinberg, abby stein, kate bornstein, frank kameny, judith butler
international women's day - clara zetkin
principles of journalizm, statue of liberty, and pulitzer prize - joseph pulitzer
"the new colossus" - emma lazarus
universal declaration of human rights - rene samuel cassin
holocaust remembrance and human rights activism - elie wiesel
workers rights - louis brandeis, rose schneiderman
public health care, women's rights, and children's rights - lillian wald
racial equity - rabbi abraham joshua heschel, julius rosenwald, andrew goodman, michael schwerner
political theory - hannah arendt
disability rights - judith heumann
black lives matter slogan and movement - alicia garza
#metoo movement - jodi kantor
institute of sexology - magnus hirschfeld
technology:
word processing computers - evelyn berezin
facebook - mark zuckerberg
console video game system - ralph henry baer
cell phones - amos edward joel jr., martin cooper
3d - leonard lipton
telephone - philipp reis
fax machines - arthur korn
microphone - emile berliner
gramophone - emile berliner
television - boris rosing
barcodes - norman joseph woodland and bernard silver
secret communication system, which is the foundation of the technology used for wifi - hedy lamarr
three laws of robotics - isaac asimov
cybernetics - norbert wiener
helicopters - emile berliner
BASIC (programming language) - john george kemeny
google - sergey mikhaylovich brin and larry page
VCR - jerome lemelson
fax machine - jerome lemelson
telegraph - samuel finley breese morse
morse code - samuel finley breese morse
bulletproof glass - edouard benedictus
electric motor and electroplating - boris semyonovich jacobi
nuclear powered submarine - hyman george rickover
the internet - paul baran
icq instant messenger - arik vardi, yair goldfinger,, sefi vigiser, amnon amir
color photography - leopold godowsky and leopold mannes
world's first computer - herman goldstine
modern computer architecture - john von neumann
bittorrent - bram cohen
voip internet telephony - alon cohen
data archiving - phil katz, eugene roshal, abraham lempel, jacob ziv
nemeth code - abraham nemeth
holography - dennis gabor
laser - theodor maiman
instant photo sharing online - philippe kahn
first automobile - siegfried samuel marcus
electrical maglev road - boris petrovich weinberg
drip irrigation - simcha blass
ballpoint pen and automatic gearbox - laszlo biro
photo booth - anatol marco josepho
medicine:
pacemakers and defibrillators - louise robinovitch
defibrillators - bernard lown
anti-plague and anti-cholera vaccines - vladimir aronovich khavkin
polio vaccine - jonas salk
test for diagnosis of syphilis - august paul von wasserman
test for typhoid fever - ferdinand widal
penicillin - ernst boris chain
pregnancy test - barnhard zondek
antiretroviral drug to treat aids and fight rejection in organ transplants - gertrude elion
discovery of hepatitis c virus - harvey alter
chemotherapy - paul ehrlich
discovery of prions - stanley prusiner
psychoanalysis - sigmund freud
rubber condoms - julius fromm
birth control pill - gregory goodwin pincus
asorbic acid (vitamin c) - tadeusz reichstein
blood groups and rh blood factor - karl landsteiner
acyclovir (treatment for infections caused by herpes virus) - gertrude elion
vitamins - caismir funk
technique for measuring blood insulin levils - rosalyn sussman yalow
antigen for hepatitus - baruch samuel blumberg
a bone fusion technique - gavriil abramovich ilizarov
homeopathy - christian friedrich samuel hahnemann
aspirin - arthur ernst eichengrun
science:
theory of relativity - albert einstein
theory of the electromagnetic field - james maxwell
quantum mechanics - max born, gustav ludwig hertz
quantum theory of gravity - matvei bronstein
microbiology - ferdinand julius cohn
neuropsychology - alexander romanovich luria
counters for x-rays and gamma rays - robert hofstadter
genetic engineering - paul berg
discovery of the antiproton - emilio gino segre
discovery of cosmic microwave background radiation - arno allan penzias
discovery of the accelerating expansion of the universe - adam riess and saul merlmutter
discovery that black hole formation is a robust prediction of the general theory of relativity - roger penrose
discovery of a supermassive compact object at the center of the milky way - andrea ghez
modern cosmology and the big bang theory - alexander alexandrovich friedmann
stainless steel - hans goldschmidt
gas powered vehicles
interferometer - albert abraham michelson
discovery of the source of energy production in stars - hans albrecht bethe
proved poincare conjecture - grigori yakovlevich perelman
biochemistry - otto fritz meyerhof
electron-positron collider - bruno touschek
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sleepincrow · 9 days ago
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suguru geto plays with your boobs when hes injured, by the way, just wanna let you know.
its nothing too bad, but suguru likes to sit behind you and draw little circles on your bare hips underneath your baggy shirt.
you had wanted to read to him, pamper him. after all, his leg is pretty much broken right now. so you just wanted to be a good girlfriend.
but the way his overworked hands slide up your sides so gently like you're the most fragile piece of architecture made you stumble over your words.
"baby, what are you doing?" you inquire, almost threatening to close your book.
"shh, just let me feel you, angel, keep reading." his lips are right behind your ear and you swore you could feel the lightest plush of his lips against your skin.
but how could you really? the way his fingers trail closer to your chest makes the plethora of sentences in the book dance on your tongue, refusing to halt their relentless tango.
soon enough, the warm palms of his hands hold your breasts so delicately, ever so gently squeezing them — playing with them. his thumbs rub over your perky nipples, making you let out a shaky breath.
his own chest is connected to the flat of your back, bent a little forwards as your smaller stature curls in the sparks of pleasure.
the book had long been forgotten. your own hands using it as leverage to keep you sat up as straight as you could, without progress, of course.
you knew long before he was skilled with his hands, somehow multiplying your pleasure by tenfold compared to playing with yourself.
suguru's uninjured leg comes to wrap around one of your own, gradually spreading your legs apart. a soft whimper slips between your parted lips when you feel the cold air grazing your barely covered pussy.
now you debate on whether or not just panties to bed was a good idea.
too lost in the wonderland of growing pleasure, lips upon your shoulder going to the nape of your neck accompanied by whispered praises kept you distracted from the fact a hand had left your breast.
"y'so pretty, sweet angel." he cooed into you spit-slicked skin. eyes hungry for the way you contort your face into one of deep pleasure and fluster.
suguru would always find a way to lavish your perfect body. he worshipped you dearly, kissing every part of your skin like it was gifted by gods. he always found a way to praise you in action, even when he could not pin you against the soft silken sheets of your shared bed.
with a flick of a switch, a vibrating sound resonated within the dimly lit room
"be a good girl for me n' just sit still, look pretty, okay?"
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not proofread. probably the first smut(?) ive acc posted AHHAH
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harmoonix · 6 months ago
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✴ꪻꫝꫀ ꪀꪮ᥅ꪻꫝ ᦓꪻꪖ᥅✴
(Astrology Notes)
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✴────✴─────✴✴────✴─────✴✴────
🌟 - Aries/Capricorn/Libra/Cancer in big 6 (Sun, Moon, Rising, Venus, Mercury, Mars) = Cardinal energy they bring to beginnings, changes, create new foundations and balances the world
🌟 - Taurus/Leo/Scorpio/Aquarius in big 6 Sun, Moon, Rising, Venus, Mercury, Mars) = Fixed energy, they make it to happen, action, inovation, hardworking, complexity
🌟 - Gemini/Virgo/Sagittarius/Pisces in big 6 Sun, Moon, Rising, Venus, Mercury, Mars) = Mutable energy, they bring the endings, flexible, adaptable, chameloens of the zodiac, old and wise
🌟 - Moon in Gemini Degrees 3°, 15°, 27° really know how to express themselves, they talk so smoothly and with ease, very intelligent as well
🌟Venus in Cancer/Venus in the 4th house loves to give hugs. This is something they adore to do, giving hugs and receiving hugs is like a love sign for them
🌟Sagittarius/Gemini Venus may have multiple love signs because they can't stand to only one loving thing to show their love for their partners
🌟The Degrees you have on your IC can show how you may like to decorate your home
Leo Degrees (5°, 17°, 29°) = Definitely a lot of lights, maybe neon signs aswell, golden hour aesthetics, beige/yellow colors
Scorpio Degrees (8°, 20°) = I see them following the traditional vibes maybe with brown/black/white and even gray, maybe vintage style, dreamcatchers, posters with their favorite singers/celebrities etc
Pisces Degrees (12°, 24°) = Turquoise/Green/Emerald colors, they may have or love tank fish, aquariums, comfortable bed, maybe neon star stickers/moon neon stickers who shine in the dark
Libra/Taurus Degrees (2°, 7°, 14°, 19°, 26°) = White/Pink maybe even purple, flowers/butterfly stickers, maybe quotes stickers, always making sure their room smells good
Virgo Degrees (6°, 18°) = Beige/Gray/Yellow and light brown colors, definitely a lot of photos with aesthete places/sun/forests/lakes maybe even with their friends
Aquarius Degrees (11°, 23°) = Definitely a lot of trendy things in their room, combined/mixed colors, a lot of selfies with them or their friends on walls, organized room, fresh, futuristic, a lot of neon lights
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🌟 - Venus in the 1st/5th/10th/11th and 12th house may like cinematography, the art of the movies, acting, theater etc
🌟 - Uranus aspecting the Sun have an electric beauty, they're very outgoing with their friends and love the way they are
🌟 - Jupiter in the 6th house is one of the luckiest placements to have if you want to improve yourself/your mental health and your work because it will extend those things and give you so many opportunities
🌟 - Chiron in the 1st house natives are so pretty when they'll realize that being insecure about themselves is nothing wrong and is time to start to like yourself because you are very beautiful!!
🌟 - Pluto trine/sextile North Node natives have a high chance to go through some sort of evolution and transformation in their life, mostly developing in childhood
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🌟 - Uranus/Neptune in the 9th house is a very spiritual placement, it makes the native to be more aware of themselves and to explore their curiosity for spirituality
🌟 - Mercury/Gemini/Virgo in the 10th house makes the native to have a powerful voice in the world, their voice can influence others, they are also very Intelligent and strategic
🌟 - Libra/Taurus and Pisces/Scorpio Moons can be attracted to architecture, they will definitely explore the place's style first
🌟 - Moon/Mercury/Venus in Fire Houses (1st, 5th, 9th) are fiercely passionately in love, they can share a beautiful love language, intense, a sharp tongue
🌟 - Moon in the 8th house is one of the most mysterious placements for the moon, the native is fully aware of the things happening in their life and their own evolution
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🌟 - Saturn in the 1st/6th and 12th house can have issues with being organized or keeping themselves healthy, sometimes they can get too tired aswell
🌟 - Asteroid Sirene (1009) in the 6th/12th house house are embodying the Sirene energy in their lives everyday, sometimes even without realizing. This energy is so dangerous yet so pure
🌟 - Asteroid Karma (408) in Libra or in the 7th house can indicate karmic relationships, and karmic partners (meeting partners with the same hobbies/interests/haibts as your exes ?? ya that's a sign)
🌟 - Asteroid Hebe (6) aspecting Venus indicates a young beauty no matter the age, your beauty still shines over the years just like in your Childhood
🌟 - Valentine asteroid (447) in the 6th/8th house have a unique love language, they're very sacrificial in their relationships
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🌟 - Valentine in aspects with Eros (433) makes the native to be erotic in their relationships, they seek for love/romance and want the same from their partners
🌟 - Moon in Air Signs can find themselves liking more music styles/listening to more than one genre, 1 song can be rock and the next one can be pop and so on..
🌟 - A fire Venus will love you with everything they have, fire is represented by passion and power, sometimes they can be too clingy
🌟 - Scorpio Venus/Venus in the 8th house can experience attracting people with the same toxic habits over and over, that's why you'll need standards
🌟 - 5th house ruled by Mercury/Jupiter or Moon will put the communication as an important key in their relationships, without communication you have nothing
🌟 - I can already tell Moon - Pluto aspects people hate endings, they don't like when things don't end (and is worse when they end on bad terms), because their mind keeps thinking about it
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🌟 - I have Uranus quintile Venus and that aspect makes me to be very tranquil about the relationships and the people I'm with. No rush with Uranus
🌟 - North Node aspecting the ascendant (minor aspects included) have the lessons to discover themselves, that's the theme for life. Don't listen to x, don't listen to y..only to yourself
🌟 - I can tell Sagittarius/Leo and Scorpio Mars men like to walk around the house naked 😭💀, always forgetting their damn clothes
🌟 - Mercury aspecting Mars talk really fast when they're mad like they be rapping in the same, I have a 10% chance to understand them taliing when these natives are into a angry mood
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🌟 - Pluto aspecting the south node can indicate being abused in a past life, or bullied. I remember reading about it was something about the finding your own power within yourself in this life time .
🌟 - Ascendant aspecting Venus are so so so likely to be crushed on, just because their energy/aura is so lovely and charming
🌟 - Cancer & Libra Placements mood changes based on the weather/season I swear they can be so depressed in the winter/fall and so happy in the summer/spring
🌟 - Capricorn Sun/Moon/Rising had to get mature from a young age that's why they got the thing with "being wise being sassy" because they work for what they got.
🌟 - This is really serious like 12th house placements really need to prioritize sleep a lot, guys sleeping is actually healing it isn't just going into bed and closing your eyes
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✨ Beautiful space post ✨
✨ I hope you all have a good day today full of light, love and good vibes ✨💅🏼💅🏼💅🏼
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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months ago
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Birds Of A Feather
Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Words Count: 5,320 Summary: Your four hour flight home to Philadelphia turns into a 24 hour trip where you're marooned in the St. Louis airport thanks to a snowstorm. You and Joel Miller, the handsome man you just met on your flight, keep each other company. Warnings: fluff, like the amount of fluff inside of a 7 foot tall stuffed bear fluff, snow storm, pov switching, cinnamon rolls and apple juice, flight anxiety, comfort, kinda soulmate vibes, good dad joel, proud dad joel, sarah's in college, reader is an interior designer from philadelphia, the whole one bed in the hotel room trope as well, nothing bad happens to joel miller in this house, lying for a ticket.
A/N: This was written for @burntheedges' Roll A Trope Challenge. I received snowed in and thanks to the always lovely @maggiemayhemnj she helped me with suggesting snowed in at an airport. This is very very soft and cute, I hope you enjoy! ❄️💕
Masterlist
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Early morning flights are your favorite. The TSA line is usually short, coffee from the kiosk is fresh, the magazines in the newsstand are in order, and the airport is quiet in an early morning hush versus the roar of the afternoon crowds. You stop at the newsstand to pick up a magazine and a cinnamon roll before heading to your gate. You stuff your customary travel treats in your backpack looking forward to enjoying your newest Architectural Digest and sugar rush once you’re in the air.
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A deep throat clear grabs your attention while you watch the tarmac crew prepare the plane. A broad man stands before you in the aisle, clad in a flannel and faded gray shirt taking up most of the tight space. Instant panic bubbles inside when you realize this gorgeous man is who you have to share a tiny cubicle with for the next four hours. 
“Hey, uh,” he stammers, a hand brushes the back of his neck in a nervous stance, “s’alright if I take the window? It’s… helpful to me.”
His voice is deep and husky with one of those famous Texas drawls, of course his voice is just as attractive as him.
“Not at all, I can take the aisle,” you say, awkwardly bending over to grab your bag. 
The handsome stranger attempts to back up as much as he can yet your body still brushes against his, he tenses before moving into the row and sits down with a big huff; if you thought he took up a lot of room in the aisle, the room he takes up in the cramped business class seat is something else.
He adjusts his shoulders to try to give you more space and fails miserably. He lets out a grumbly sigh while attempting to find a more comfortable position. His arm bumps into yours before you angle your body towards the aisle, trying to give the large stranger more room. At least he smells just as good as he looks… mint, coffee and burnt wood. There’s way worse looking people to be packed in like sardines with. 
The flight attendants walk the aisle and do their pre boarding steps, checking seat belts and doors before going into their safety spiel. Your seat neighbor shuffles nervously, tapping his fingers against his thighs. He’s a nervous flier, you can spot them a mile away. 
“Why are you headed to Pennsylvania?” you ask, turning towards him trying to cut through his nervous tension. 
“Oh, uh, to visit my daughter, she’s a freshman at UPenn. Wanted to spend the holidays with her,” he cracks a smile at the mention of his daughter. God, he’s handsome.
“That’s nice, it’s beautiful in Philly for the holidays. I’m from there, so if you need any tips on where to go and what to do, I can help.”
“Thanks,” his fingers still tap against his lap. “Guess you’re going back home then?” 
“Yep, I just finished a job and I haven’t been home in a month, just hoping to beat the snow.” 
“Here’s hoping… I’m Joel by the way,” he reaches his large hand out to shake yours. You grab his calloused and overworked hand then give him your name, he nods softly and repeats it. His deep voice echoes through your head, sending a shiver up your spine. 
“It’s nice to meet you Joel, even if it’s in this cramped airplane cabin.” 
“S’nice to meet you too,” he lets go of your hand, placing it back on his thigh, you notice that it’s no longer nervously tapping. 
Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.
Joel lets out a big, deep sigh. 
“Nervous flier?” you ask.
“You could say that,” he grumbles. “Never liked giving up control of my life to someone I don’t know.”
“I understand that, but this happens to millions of people a day, you only hear about the bad.”
“I get that,” he chuckles, quickly stopping as the plane begins to roll on the tarmac. “Still don’t have to like it.” 
“Well, I fly all the time,” you reassure, “I’m sure everything will go smoothly.” 
“Here’s hoping,” he sighs, sinking deeper into the seat. 
You are the opposite of your seatmate, you love how the engines rumble as the plane picks up speed, the way your stomach drops when it lifts off the tarmac, the brief thud underneath when the wheels are tucked into the plane. Flying has never bothered you, it’s always been exciting and a means of getting to new adventures. 
The plane speeds across the pavement preparing for liftoff, your stomach drops before the wheels leave the ground... Joel’s hand grasps yours. Golden, thick fingers cover your hand squeezing tightly. You turn to him and your heart breaks a little at the sight, his eyes are squeezed shut with his nostrils flaring as he puffs deep breaths out. There’s something so heartbreaking watching this large, strong man look so scared. 
“Hey, you’re alright, it’s quick, very soon we’re going to be in the air and all we have to do is wait,” you try to sound as gentle and comforting as possible. It’s easy to take fearlessness for granted, especially when someone as large and seemingly intimidating as Joel looks so helpless. 
He nods, his eyes still tightly closed before swallowing a thick gulp of air.
Your free hand reaches up and opens his air vent before angling yours toward him. 
“Can you look at me Joel,” you whisper. His hand still clasps yours tightly. It hurts like hell, but you don’t mind; if it makes him feel better, he can clasp as hard as he needs. 
His brown eyes open wide and focus on you. 
“That’s good, Joel, can you take a deep breath for me? Iiiiiin and ooooout. Very good,” you encourage with a grin on your face holding his eye contact. “This is worth it, you’ll get to see your daughter, tell me her name and what she’s like.”
“H-her name’s Sarah, she’s uh, studying to be a doctor, sh-she’s way smarter than her old man, sh-she plays on the soccer team, got a scholarship for it ‘n everything, she loves music and going to too many damn concerts. She’s going to go deaf like me if she ain’t careful.”
“She sounds awesome,” you smile.
“She is, don’t know how I got so lucky.” 
“What do you do for work?” you keep him talking, making sure to distract Joel’s anxiety. 
“Contractor, I own a contracting service with my brother, we specialize in retail and office buildings.”
“Oh, that sounds like hard work, but it’s nice you get to work with your brother.”
“Could be better, could be worse,” he shrugs. 
“Hey, I’m an interior designer, we’re both in similar fields. How many carpenter pencils do you have? I probably have three floating around in my purse right now.”
He chuckles, his face loses its tenseness, Joel doesn’t attempt to take his hand from yours, and you don’t move to do it either. You work with contractors all the time, you’ve never seen one as gorgeous as him.
“My daughter always tried to get me to let her use ‘em for school work because they were a different shape, kept on having to take them away from her.” 
“She sounds tenacious.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” he muses.
Good afternoon passengers. This is your captain speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on Flight 86A. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. We’re going to try to avoid the snow the best we can, we’ll keep you updated in case anything changes.
You’ve been entertaining Joel so much both of you didn’t notice you totally missed lift off and your ascent into the sky. 
“Would you look at that? We’re in the air, you only have four hours until you get to see her.”
“Thanks for that,” he says, moving his hand from yours. “I feel ridiculous.”
“No need, I’m happy I could help,” you shake the tenseness out of your hand after the twenty minutes of being in Joel’s vice grip.
“You alright? Did I hurt you?” his eyes round in guilt under his furrowed eyebrows focus on your hand. 
“No, no, it’s okay,” you reassure. “You just have a strong grip. Must be all of that contractor business.”
He sends you a shy, crooked grin, “M’sorry.”
“I’ll survive, just like we’ll survive this flight together, Joel,” you wink.
He looks at you, his brown eyes turn darker and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “You’re quite someth–”
“May I offer you a drink?” the flight attendant interrupts. Worst fucking time.
You order an apple juice. Joel orders a black coffee. 
“Apple juice?” he asks. 
“Yeah, it’s kind of a tradition I have. I always get a cinnamon roll and apple juice every time I fly in the morning. Tastes kinda like apple pie when they’re together.”
“Hm, I don’t know about that,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head. 
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” you shrug before pulling the cinnamon roll out of your bag.
You ask for an extra cup when the attendant brings yours and Joel’s drinks before ripping off half of the cinnamon roll and handing it to him. “Here.”
“No, no, it’s yours.” 
“Yeah, but I want to share,” you urge, “I got you a cup for apple juice too.” 
“If you insist,” he obliges, taking the soft pastry.
Half of your juice is poured into the extra cup before you hand it to him and raise your cup up to cheers. 
“To four hour flights and apple pie” you quip. 
“Cheers,” he says, gently shaking his head with eyes lit resembling something akin to affection.
You both take a drink of the sweet juice before picking up the cinnamon roll and taking a bite. 
“See?” you say, still chewing the sweet pastry. 
“Mmf,” he shakes his head and swallows. “Not apple pie, but pretty damn good.” He wipes the errant crumbs off of his mustache, you wonder if his lips taste like cinnamon and apples. 
“I’ll take pretty damn good,” you muse, picking up your magazine and settling into your seat. 
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Joel glances towards you every chance he gets. He’s a realist, sometimes too much of one, he knows why he’s so calm during this flight– your comforting presence. He’s hated flying his whole life, his father never understood his fear, always telling him ‘I flew on planes bigger and louder than this all through the war, kid, buck up.’ Thanks dad, that’ll surely help the terrified eight year old crying and clutching to his mother. Sarah damn near broke his heart when she met him at the door excitedly waving the acceptance letter to a school 1,700 miles away. How could he crush his little girl’s dreams because her old man hates being in the sky? He got to bide his time, driving her in the moving truck to her new school, but now– with her first Christmas out of state and unable to fly home due to work– Joel was forced to step on the scary metal tube. 
He could hardly believe his luck when the pretty girl gazing out the window ended up being his seatmate; the excitement over being so close to you helped shield a bit of his trepidation over his first solo flight and then he went on to embarrass himself. You didn’t shake your head or shun him, you accepted and supported him. He can still feel your soft hand wrapped in his and hear your gentle voice coaching him down from a panic attack. You’re a complete stranger, and yet you’ve shown him more kindness than he’s allowed himself to accept in years. 
You adjust in your seat, your elbow brushes against his, little do you know he bunched up the sleeve of his flannel so he could feel the touch of your skin. 
He doesn’t know why you affect him the way that you do, it’s only been a couple of hours in the sky next to you, but he’s already trying to think of a way to give you his phone number. 
Ladies and Gentlemen, Captain Scott has informed us that we will be diverting to St. Louis due to the weather conditions at Philadelphia. We will be landing in approximately twenty minutes and will keep you advised about the continuation of this flight to our destination as information becomes available. We apologize for the inconvenience this may have caused. Thank you for your patience and understanding. We are aware that many of you have connecting flights departing Philadelphia. Our ground staff will work with you to confirm you on the next available flight to your destination. Thank you for your patience.
“Well, shit,” you sigh, placing your magazine down, rolling your neck and stretching your arms. “Had a feeling this might happen.”
“Shit indeed,” he sighs.
“How are you with landings, Joel?” you softly question. “Can I do anything for you?”
His heart skips, he hasn’t felt this feeling in years. Sure his little girl steals his heart every second of the day, but for a woman to make his heart race the way it is now making butterflies flutter through his stomach… that hasn’t happened in two decades. 
“No, I should be okay, thank you,” he says, feeling a bit foolish. 
“I’m here for you, okay?” The gentleness of your voice void of any judgment helps soothe his shame.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into St. Louis. Please turn off all portable electronic devices and stow them until we have arrived at the gate. In preparation for landing, please be certain your seat back is straight up and your seat belt is fastened. Please secure your carry-on items, stow your tray table, and pass any remaining service items and unwanted reading materials to the flight attendants. Thank you.
His breathing turns rapid, he feels the phantom of fear rearing its ugly head 10,000 feet above the ground. He’s seen far too many videos of planes spurting flames and panicked passengers escaping down blown up slides. He remembers Captain Sulley and the miracle on the Hudson… that ain’t no miracle. Joel Miller is a realist, how about everyone almost died in the Hudson? He tries to breathe like that weird lady on TikTok Sarah showed him… make a square with every breath? Or make a line and then breathe? Christ, he can’t remember. His lips part to inhale more stale pressurized oxygen trying to calm his pulsating heart. This time your hand grabs his, he looks over at your face set soft with a reassuring smile, a wash of calm runs through him. You’re so beautiful.
“You’re alright Joel, I’m here with you,” you gently lilt.
He focuses on the soft back and forth of your fingers against him, centering himself and making the phantom back away. He loves the way your soft skin looks against his. Your nails are painted a light blue, it reminds him of the bright Texas morning sky. 
The plane descends as you hold his eye contact with that same beautiful and assuring smile lighting up your face. 
“We’re almost on the ground, you’re doing so good,” fear and veneration perform a duet in his heart making it pound against his chest. 
The wheels hit the tarmac, he lets out a huge breath of relief. Your hand still holds his, even as he visibly relaxes. He watches the light blue of your nail polish swipe back and forth against the top of his hand. 
Ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to St. Louis. The local time is 9:45 AM. For your safety and the safety of those around you, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened and keep the aisle clear until we are parked at the gate. The Captain will then turn off the “Fasten Seat Belt” sign, indicating it is safe to stand. Please use caution when opening the overhead compartments and removing items, since articles may have shifted during flight. We thank you for your patience, rest assured our staff is here to help you.
“Well, I know it’s not home, or Sarah… but we’ll make the best of it,” you say, pulling your bag out from underneath the seat. He loves how positive you are, he needs someone like you in his life.
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Three hours of being stuck in the airport have slowly ticked by, at least you have the company of your new travel partner. You check your weather app for the millionth time, no change at all… snow still falls all along the tri-state area.
“Anything?” he asks, looking up from his Sports Illustrated. 
“No luck,” you shrug, “I’m starving.” 
“Come on,” he points his head towards the restaurant near the gate, “my treat.”
You follow him, wondering why you feel so excited over this impromptu lunch date. You can’t deny your attraction to him, an inkling inside of you makes you believe Joel might feel the same. Yeah, you might be stuck in St. Louis, your return to your comfortable bed and bathtub postponed due to the falling snow, but at least you have your handsome flight partner with you. 
The restaurant is nice, a typical Concourse B type place full of simple people enjoying a hot meal, simple menu, a simple design inspired by of all things– airplanes. 
Joel asks for a table near the window, the hostess obliges, leading you to a table in a quiet section of the restaurant. He pulls the chair out for you, southern manners and all. 
He takes a seat with a humph, mumbling how tight his back is from all of the damn sitting. You order a hot tea, he orders a coffee. 
You’ve known him for a grand six hours and yet you’re going to remember this usually milquetoast adventure for a long, long time. 
“What’re you thinking?” he asks, perusing the menu. 
“Turkey sandwich and soup,” you answer, mouth already watering at the idea of your meal. “You?”
“Burger ‘n fries. I’m hungry though that half of a cinnamon roll sure did satisfy,” he sends you a barely perceptible wink. 
“So, do you have any plans for you and your daughter?”
“She says she has an idea or two for us, she’s a planner, I’m just there to see her, this is the longest I’ve been away from her.” His voice drops, a slight hitch in his breath appears, you can feel the sadness radiating off of him. He must be such a good dad.
“Sounds rough,” you empathize, wishing you could recreate what happened on the plane and put your hand over his while telling him everything will be okay.
“Yeah, it’s been difficult, it’s just been me and her since forever. I know she’s happy and fulfilled, that's all I can ask for.” 
You wonder where Sarah’s mom went, why it’s just the two of them, and most of all if he’s single. How can you be falling for this almost stranger and his big heart that sits below his broad, flannel covered chest?
“I moved far away for art school and it was the best decision I ever made. I'm so thankful for my parents letting me have that experience. You should be proud of her… and most of all you should be proud of you.”
He looks over the brim of his coffee mug, takes a drink, and places it down on the table before grabbing your hand.
“You’re so– I’ve never met anybody like you before,” he says, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles. 
The restaurant and airport disappear from your periphery, it’s only you and this man from Austin on the way to your hometown to see his daughter. This has never happened to you before… a spark of something you have no clue what to call shared between the two of you. 
“I could say the same thing to y–,” you're interrupted by the waitress’s arrival, Joel’s hand retreats from yours; the physical and emotional connection between you and Joel is broken by your food being placed on the table. 
“So, what’s the plan?” Joel asks as he grabs the Tabasco bottle and shakes a smattering of drops over his burger. 
“No clue,” you sigh, “I wish I could take a nap. What did your daughter say when you told her?”
“Oh, she was fine, disappointed but she told me she’ll still get over a week with me once I get there,” he shakes his head, his face lifts with a doting grin. “She’s always the glass half full type.”
“And let me guess, you’re much more of a ‘the damn glass is half empty’ type?” 
“Always.” 
“Mm,” you nod, before taking a bite of your turkey sandwich. 
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His heart beats harder against his chest as he watches you approach him from the ticket counter. 
“Any new update?” he’s nervous, he hasn’t felt this nervous in years. He never realized how much he missed this type of emotional tension that pulls his back to stand straighter. 
“The storm hasn’t let up, all airports in the area are on a ground stop, and now with the storm here, I think we’re screwed,” you close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. You look exhausted, spending all day in a packed airport has obviously taken its toll on you. He wants to wrap his arms around you, carry you to whatever destination you need to go to and never let go. He can’t believe he’s thinking like this, he doesn’t even know your favorite color or movie. “I’m sorry Joel.” 
He hates watching your face drop, you’ve done nothing wrong. “Hey, none of that,” he takes a tentative step forward, he’s worried to overcross a line, but your sunken shoulders and defeated posture pushes him forward. He wraps his flannel clad arms around you, pulling you into a hug. Your body instantly molds to his, finding the perfect spot on his chest to rest your head against. A sweet and grateful sigh breathes out of you, radiating through his whole body. 
“Looked like you needed this,” he says against your hair, breathing the feminine scent of you in. He hasn’t been this close to a woman like this in years. Sure he’s had some hookups here and there, but a real honest to goodness connection with someone after only half of a day spent together? Never happened. He feels lucky.
“I did, thank you,” you breathe out. He still holds you, making zero attempt to let go. You imagine to the average passerby you resemble a couple in love, standing in the airport terminal, holding each other. 
“Are you hungry?” he asks, still holding you tight. “I think there’s a pretty good restaurant here.”
“I am, a real nice guy once took me to lunch there,” you pull away. “It’s my treat this time.”
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Joel stands at the ticket desk, it’s now his turn to see if there have been any changes. It’s been twelve hours of being marooned in this airport, you should feel more miserable at this point, but the constant support the two of you trade back and forth to each other has helped alleviate the ugliness of stress. 
“Any luck?” you ask, perking up when he stands in front of you.
“Actually, yeah, they have a 9 AM flight to Philly tomorrow afternoon,” he says, tucking his ticket into his pocket. You can’t look him in the eyes, if you do you’re going to think about how much you’re going to miss him… this man you’ve only known for a grand total of twelve hours. “There’s two seats left… and I got one. The lady at the desk is waiting for my fiancee to go get her ticket.”
Your eyes widen at what he implies.
“Oh, ohhhhhh,” you grin. “Clever man.”
“Yeah, I need your help, since I’m a nervous flier and all…”
Your knees feel weak from the doting smile Joel gives you. “Thanks love,” you stretch and kiss his cheek before heading to the ticket counter.
❄️❄️❄️
He can’t keep his eyes off of you as you walk over to the counter. He can still feel your lips against his cheek, there’s a foreign feeling in his heart. He’s already thinking about introducing you to Sarah, what the hell is this? 
The airport worker laughs at something you say, of course they’re charmed by you, you’re such a sweet thing, like cinnamon rolls and apple juice. 
You turn, a big smile lights your face when you walk back to him, waving your ticket in the air. 
He chuckles out a nervous snicker when you skip over and wrap your arms around him.
“The agent pulled in a favor and got us a room at the hotel attached here, she said she has a softness for ‘lovebirds’ like us,” you pull away with a mischievous glint lighting your face. “Plus, she thinks my fiance is handsome.”
“Uh… okay,” he’s not sure what you’re implying, you’re far too special to him already for a one-night romp in a hotel room. 
“No funny business Joel,” you wink as you grab your bag. He can’t believe how well you read him. “Now, let’s go get our luggage and check in.” 
❄️❄️❄️
You enter the keycard into the door thanking that lovely ticket agent for access to a comfortable bed. And it’s just as you feared… a bed…  just one, singular bed that greets you in this average airport hotel room. 
“I can take the chair,” Joel nervously says.
Part of you wishes he wouldn’t have offered.
“If you want, but the bed is big enough for both of us,” you shrug out of your jacket. 
“S’okay, wouldn’t feel right.”
It’d feel just fine to you, but you don’t say anything, instead you open your luggage and fish out your toiletry bag and your pajamas. 
“It’s almost midnight, I’m going to get my shower and get ready for bed.”
❄️❄️❄️
His foot nervously taps against the carpet, goosebumps prickle along his arms when he hears your sigh reverberate against the shower tiles. Why is he so anxious? It feels like prom night all over again; he’s just a shy boy waiting for the beautiful girl to give him a sign, any sign, that she likes him. The last time he felt like this Sarah was born nine months later.
He grabs the TV remote trying to find a reprieve from his anxious thoughts, flipping it to the news. The anchor drones on about the great holiday snowstorm. In a way, he’s thankful for the blizzard– sure it means even more time in a flying panic tube, but at least he met you. He vows to not let any type of temptation get in the way of what feelings are developing between you two. No matter how much he thinks about your naked body in the shower and how good your body wash smells. 
❄️❄️❄️
You emerge from the bathroom, clean and fresh in your pajamas. 
“Should’ve figured you’d be an Eagles fan,” he says, smirking at your oversized and faded sleep shirt.
“Let me guess, Cowboys fan?”
“Forever and always.”
“Oh, well, you’re my enemy now.”
He laughs, “I’m sure I am.” 
You tuck yourself under the covers while Joel takes his shower, quickly falling asleep to the sounds of whatever generic late night host is cracking jokes on the TV. 
❄️❄️❄️
He quietly opens the bathroom door, the hotel room is bathed in the dim glow of the television. You're already fast asleep, cuddled under the white duvet, you look like an angel surrounded by clouds. Of course you're beautiful when you sleep. He tries not to stare too long, and yet he's planted in the threshold of the bedroom admiring you. He feels lucky at this moment, being able to watch someone as pretty as you slumber peacefully, while trying to silence the fact that tomorrow you both will go your separate ways. He doesn't want to say goodbye.
❄️❄️❄️
A bassy groan and shuffle in the dark floats through the air waking you. The clock reads 1:45 AM. “There’s enough room in the bed for you, you know?”
“I know, just don’t want to overst– I’m still a stranger.”
“No, you’re my fiance, remember?” you shuffle the sheets on the other side of the bed down, “Joel, please, I insist.”
He sighs when he stands and makes his way to the bed. The mattress dips under his weight, you can feel heated tension radiating off his body, the strong specimen of all man lays insecurely next to you. 
“Joel, relax,” you whisper before placing your hand on his chest feeling the rapid beat of his heart. 
“I’m okay, I-I just– haven’t done something like this in so long.”
“What? Laid in bed next to someone you’ve known less than a day? I’ve actually never done this.”
A quiet laugh rumbles in his chest. “No, just haven’t met someone as real as you in a long time. Is it real?”
“It’s real,” you say, shuffling closer to him, replacing your hand with your head. He wraps his arm around you as you listen to the pitter patter of his heart. “Goodnight Joel,” you whisper, closing your exhausted eyes. 
“G’night,” he purrs, you feel the ghost of his lips against your hair as you drift to sleep. 
❄️❄️❄️
He lays awake most of the night, too afraid to fall asleep and disturb your beautiful sleeping form. He wishes he could record the cute sounds that emit from you as you slumber and dream, he’d listen to them forever if he could. He can’t believe he’s thinking this way, what should’ve been a terrifying and lonely standard trip to see his daughter has turned into an adventure of a lifetime with a woman he’s already crazy for. 
Sure, he’s shared a bed with others since Sarah’s mom, he’s had a couple of flings here and there, but he never allowed himself to cuddle or care for them. They were never good enough for him… or most importantly Sarah. He thinks Sarah would adore you. 
The red digits on the alarm clock read 3:00 AM, he’s known you for a grand total of twenty hours. Meaning he only has about eight hours left, he’s already dreading saying goodbye. 
❄️❄️❄️
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
Your groggy eyes open, you move to silence the alarm but you quickly realize you’re trapped under a heavy weight. Joel. He groans against you, with his arms held tight around your stomach and his face nuzzled into your shoulder. 
“Joel, it’s time to get up.”
He tenses against you and quickly unwraps your body from his hold.
“Sorry,” he sheepishly says, reaching across you to turn the alarm off. 
“It’s okay,” you want to tell him you didn’t mind it all, that you haven’t slept that well in years, but you stay quiet. 
“I’m just going to… get ready,” he stands, stretching and wiping his tired eyes. You try not to focus on the glimpse of his stomach remembering what it felt to have the soft swell of him against your back. “Don’t think I’ve slept that well in years.”
The bathroom door shuts as you flop back into bed, welcoming the fluttery feeling inside your body. “I feel the same way,” you confess to the empty hotel room. 
❄️❄️❄️
Flight attendants, prepare doors for departure and cross check.
“Well, we’re back to where we started, it’s been quite an adventure,” you smile.
“It has,” he clears his throat, reaches for your hand and sends you a soft smile. “I have ten days in Philadelphia, I was wondering if you have any good suggestions for a nice, romantic place to take someone I really like to?” 
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somewhereincairparavel · 8 days ago
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Annabeth Chase and Jason Grace - two sides of the same coin, an analysis post.
after a long wait, I've finally posted my analysis on jason/annabeth being similar, and mirroring eachother as rivals/potential sibling figures more than percy/jason's 'bro rivalry', based on this post of mine which has crossed over a THOUSAND notes in the last week alone, and I've been getting so many reblogs and comments asking me to expand on my tags in that post and do a full analysis. so here it is. I've been procrastinating this for quite a while now for some reason but I'm glad I'm over my writer's block and I got to articulate my post well enough.
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annabeth and jason have had very minor interactions throughout hoo, but the parallels and similarities in their character is jarringly noticeable, which is why I hoped for a jason/annabeth rivalry and not a percy/jason rivalry. they've both been raised at their respective camps since they were literal kids, they were well versed in their respective fields of knowledge, and were well respected/intimidated in their camps.
let's start off with the lost hero
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when jason first meets annabeth, he says that her eyes were really intimidating and fierce, so right off the bat, we have jason who's pretty put off by annabeth because she very obviously looked angry, especially since she was frustrated about jason's arrival instead of percy, and looked like she could kill jason to get percy back.
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this parallels to a lot when hazel kept going on about how difficult it was to warm up to jason because his eyes were always calculating and cold, and he gave off an untrustworthy vibe, that he'd sacrifice anyone for the sake of the mission.
both annabeth and jason have a certain similar ‘look’ in their eyes, which have nothing to do with the color. they both have the tendency to make people nervous simply with their eyes, because they always look like they're thinking of new things every few seconds. Ironically, jason first perceived annabeth, the way everyone else perceived him. scary and intimidating with an icy glare and hardened eyes.
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They were both said to be ‘studying’ each other in distrust many times throughout. A part of why they didn't trust each other, was, in my opinion, because they embodied their least favorite shared personality trait of each other, secretiveness and guardedness. which is why annabeth got on so well with percy, and jason with leo/piper.
they didn't admire the closed off-ish vibe that they gave eachother. they both needed people who were open and carefree.annabeth said that jason looked like he knew too much information, but chose to keep it all a secret, very similar to her own guardedness from time to time, keeping it a secret and wanting to deal with it silently.
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we also know that annabeth and jason are extremely knowledgeable in greek/roman mythology, they both love debates and were quite passionate about history. they were both assigned architecture projects by the gods themselves as a mark of honor and favour.
moving on to the next most important point, they reminded eachother of the people they missed, causing them to feel resentful.
jason, barely met his sister after they reunited. he was bitter when thalia said he had to go look for percy to help out annabeth with the search. he was aware that thalia and annabeth were childhood friends, getting closer to eachother than jason and thalia ever did. she found a home in luke and annabeth, not even a few months after baby jason was thought to be ‘dead’, that knowledge would've weighed a lot on jason. annabeth became the sibling to thalia grace that jason could never be.
while annabeth? the only thing annabeth thought of, after jason had a face off with his mother's remnant in boo, was the fact that jason, who looks eerily similar to luke, could've experienced the exact same fate as him. luke was jason if he had more wrath and held grudges, jason was luke if he had less anger and resentment. annabeth could connect the dots so easily, and that was truly the moment where she gained immense respect for him.
and, when jason told annabeth that his sister was thalia? she had a very odd sort of expression on her face.
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annabeth also quotes that looking at jason made her feel bitter, because he reminded her of heras exchange, and the fact that she lost percy for months. whenever she looked at jason, she would only see her two childhood friends, a found family that was broken, and a love that was challenged.
whenever jason looked at annabeth, he would be reminded that thalia had a closer contact to her than she did jason, and had to accept that he would never know thalia as much as annabeth does.
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annabeth and jason also appear very confident and sure of themselves, but have second thoughts all the time. they had to put on a fake facade, to live up to their expectations and lineage.
they were both also sort of people pleasers, annabeth couldn't really say no to anyone who asked her for help with things, like carrying the sky for luke especially, because not only where they giving her a chance to execute her knowledge and skill, the thought of helping someone made her genuinely happy. jason also loved seeing people happy, always wanting to say the right thing to satisfy someone, even if it meant he had to sacrifice his own struggles to help them.
fatal flaws:
annabeth’s fatal flaw, is hubris. when you are confident and sure that you can do something, and have a sense of excessive self pride.
and jason's fatal flaw is the temptation to deliberate. hesitation and second guessing, to put it in simpler words.both fatal flaws are so different, yet so similar, and they have both flaws, just in a different viewpoint.
as a child of athena, annabeth appears super confident and even conceding at times because of her wisdom, but at the same time, annabeth had to make sure she was one step ahead of everyone. she had to rethink everything and had to have a plan in her mind all the time, fearing that things wouldn't go smoothly.
she had to hesitate and second guess herself alot, despite her knowledge, like she did when she knew she had to look for the mark of athena. piper and percy had to boost up her confidence with affirmations, to let her know she's on the right path and to just follow her gut. annabeth feels obligated to have a temptation to deliberate, because, as a child of athena, she has to be all knowing and wise, and most definitely cannot fail her mother.
and jason? despite having a very low sense of self esteem and hesitation, he was so used to leading the people who were considered slightly inferior to him in camp jupiter, and basically getting treated like a celebrity for 12 years of his life in camp jupiter, that often, he thought what he did was right, he had his own perception of what a hero should be, and I quote
[“No, no,” Jason said. “I made my choice. You’re not to blame. You don’t owe me anything except to remember what I said. Remember what’s important.” “You’re important,” I said. “Your life!”Jason tilted his head. “I mean… sure. But if a hero isn’t ready to lose everything for a greater cause, is that person really a hero?”He weighted the word person subtly, as if to stress it could mean a human, a faun, a dryad, a griffin, a pandos… even a god”- Tower of Nero]
which was normal, since he had everyone basically following his lead without question as a kid. he's expanded on this in his conversation with piper in mark of athena, where he said he felt weird to suddenly be around people who were either equal/or superior to him in power, and not being in the ‘lead’ particularly.
jason had hubris, but certainly not in a way that you would call it an ego or excessive pride. he was hardwired and brainwashed into having his own perception of what is right and what is wrong, that he thought he was always making good enough decisions, at least from a roman child soldier’s standpoint. [Like when he was okay with not saving nico because it might sabotage their mission, he genuinely didn't think what he said was insensitive until hazel called him out, because he was brought up that way. he thought he was doing the right thing, by prioritising the mission and the duty, first. Like the dutiful roman he was made to be].
both annabeth and jason, have hubris and a temptation to deliberate.
annabeth and jason, also had an extremely difficult time breaking free from the thoughts that their godly parents were always right. It took on alot of disappointments for both of them to stand up to their parents (and not just godly ones, mind you)
they've both had disappointing absent mortal and godly parents with a hostile stepmother involved and monitored with each and every one of their moves. annabeth has had to deal with her stepmother playing the ‘bad cop’ with her father not even coming to her defence, just the way hera came butting into jason's life and giving him terrible memories, taking him away from thalia, with zeus not even caring.
speaking of which, they are both the only demigods who have harboured the most amount of resentment for hera. just the sight of hera pisses them both off, as it hera, stripped off so much time away from annabeth and percy, and memories from jason, which he never permanently got back.
this is sort of irrelevant but I'll add this anyway, in boo, athena also immediately liked jason for calling out zeus's unfairness to apollo, saying something like 'the boy is right' and she gave him an approving/appreciative look for his wisdom, which is pretty rare for athena to say or do to literally any demigod ever. this makes me wonder if she ever saw jason as someone who had some sort of athena legacy in him, which is why she was so pleasantly surprised with him. ugh we could've so gotten jason and annabeth as potential sibling figures bc of how many parallels they have, too bad that the percy/jason rivalry narrative was pushed too hard.
I hope I've drawn enough parallels with their characters, as a lot of you have been looking forward to this post for a while, hopefully this analysis hasnt been underwhelming for you all to read!
@thevoidcaller @karmaajr @onestorytorulethemall @newlyfoundwren @thesummerstorms
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llamagoddessofficial · 6 months ago
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hello llama
i have been thinking and headcanoning about vampire bad sanses lately, so i was curious if you have any thoughts about or interest in vampires of the nightmare and crew variety? (人 •͈ᴗ•͈)
"do i have interest in vampires", he asks
ok, i will share my extensive vampire brainrot. but in return..... you have to write that vampire fic.... oooOOooO look into my eyes you know you want to write it ooOoOooo 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
I very much like the idea of Nightmare's castle being Castlevania-style. Lots of spooky architecture, lots of ancient magical passages that haven't been seen in centuries.
Horror can be summed up in one word. Bloodlust. There's a constant hunger inside him he can't ever seem to fill, driving him almost to the point of madness. He is more beast than man. When he smells or tastes blood, he loses control of himself, becoming little more than a starving wild animal - his capability for slaughter is limited only by his appetite. So unless Nightmare requires it, he generally abstains from blood. He doesn't like losing himself so entirely.
Something about you makes him forget his hunger. Is it your voice? Your scent? He has no idea, but oh, it feels good to feel whole. When you're around it's as if he'll never be hungry again... he follows you like a dog, grinning intensely every time you look at him. This is one hound that can't be shaken.
Despite his 'condition', he finds a lot of solace in cooking. Nothing will give him the same drug-like rush as blood but human food is nonetheless warm and filling and distracts him momentarily from the emptiness. He enjoys the process of making it, too, doing something with his hands. Let him cook for you, please? Watching you eat brings him vicarious joy.
Dust's backstory is one of legend. Something resembling a story can be spun from the loose whispers. A vampire invaded his peaceful isolated village hundreds of years ago, intending to turn the helpless populace into enslaved vampires. Dust, the first to be bitten, turned and slaughtered them all himself - and despite being a vampire for barely a week, the equivalent of a stumbling newborn, he killed the centuries-old invading vampire in single combat.
No one's quite sure why he's joined Nightmare. Perhaps Nightmare was keen to take this uniquely violent creature under his wing, and Dust just didn't really care where the wind took him. Or perhaps he has some other motive, hidden beneath that silent face. Who knows.
... Dust might be quiet, but it's obvious he's fixated on you. Which is a big deal. This is a creature who hasn't mustered a second thought for anything but blood for decades; but somehow, you've excited him. He's very clearly interested in you, silently watching your every move, listening intently to every word you say. Too bad he's not much for conversation.
Killer's backstory, on the other hand, is shrouded entirely in mystery. No one knows where he came from, who he is, or what he's done. He simply appeared one day - right within the coveted inner circle of Nightmare himself. He's the Night King's most trusted weapon, and the closest thing he has to a friend.
Killer seems very clear about what he wants. He thinks you're adorable, and he says you'd make such a pretty vampire. He talks (at length) about how much he wants to bite you, and how if it were up to him you'd already be one of them. A lot of his flirting involves calling you things like sweet treat and honeyblood. However... despite all the taunting, all the talk of seeing you as food, Killer is the one in the castle who treats you with the most respect. The others seem to see you as an object, a cute toy, something to squish and own. Killer talks to you like you're a real person. You can't help but like him for it.
Nightmare's inferiority complex has driven him to declare himself the king of the vampires. No one contests - Nightmare is royalty by blood, and vampires place a lot of emphasis on blood. But even if he wasn't, Nightmare frequently murders those who won't bend the knee. Plenty of powerful vampires have fallen embarrassingly fast at his hand.
... Nightmare's goal is to make you agree to be his spouse. A pretty little human partner would be excellent for his image. It would not only demonstrate his incredible self control as such an ancient vampire (not to mention his control over his warriors), but it would also show that his power is so great he doesn't need to strike a political marriage with another powerful vampire. It might also convince some of the pesky rebellious human groups to settle down.
His pride means that he won't force you. Not yet, at least. He likes to think he can seduce you. He's a royal vampire, after all, and you're just a simple human - isn't it only a matter of time?
... But it seems like, as time goes on... he's the one falling.
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olivyh · 2 years ago
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Does nobody in this house knock?
A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a while, and I've been on an Obey Me kick recently- I love these boys so much and they're so fun to write for (although consistently including six/seven people in one story is a bit of a challenge). This is supposed to be read as platonic but could go either way tbh. GN mc as always loves <3
Slight TW: For nudity (nothing serious really happens MC is just taking a bath and the brothers don't know what privacy is)
The House of Lamentation had its ups and downs- of course, the place was massive, which came with a plethora of spaces to crawl into if you wanted a moment of silence or needed a pretty room to study in. The kitchen was just as spacious- you were sure you couldn't use up all the counter space if you wanted to. The architecture was gorgeous and you could stare at the paintings that littered the halls all day (you wouldn't dare, though, after being told that some of them dislike the attention and could curse you if you stare for too long). Similarly, your room was one of your favorite spots in the house (along with Asmo's bathroom, which you were one of the lucky few to get the privilege of using when he wasn't having one of his frequent spa days. You also enjoyed wandering around the mansion (which, sadly, you were banned from doing after getting lost in one of the never-ending hallways and ending up deep underground, leading you to tearfully call Mammon and a house-wide scramble to find you before another one of Levi's rogue pets did). 
The downs were, naturally, the lack of private time. Despite how big the house was, everywhere you went one of the brothers seemed to conveniently be heading in that same direction or even already in that room. Did you want a snack in the kitchen? Beel was three steps ahead of you, and already inviting you out to Madam Screams after he cleans out the fridge. Need to study in the library? Satan just so happened to be going there as well (did he not have enough in his room? You thought almost bitterly at the loss of your time). Wanted to nap in the planetarium? You trip over a passed-out Belphie (why was he sleeping in the doorway?) and end up with a bloody nose from the impact. Wanted to sit in the common room? Levi was already there, playing Devil Cart on what looked like the Devildom's version of a switch with Mammon. If you wanted to study at the dining room table, Asmo would find you and all but drag you to his room for an impromptu game of dress-up. You'd thought going to the eldest would at least leave you alone, opting to study in his office until he'd corrected you on your posture and the way your shirt was hanging loosely off one shoulder more than the other every time, occasionally asking you questions relating to your work and not-so-subtly correcting every wrong answer you'd made (even if you never fully finished the problem). 
The brothers, however, knew that one time of the week was off limits- Saturday nights. You would often slip away and claim the shared bathroom for hours at a time, lighting candles and filling the bath until it was just high enough for you to soak up to your shoulders in. Of course, this was met with very little resistance (especially considering that all seven brothers somehow shared one bathroom with one toilet, which always baffled you. Though, you were certain that Lucifer had one of his own and was neglecting to let the others know). It never clashed with the nights Beel would come back from the gym in desperate need of a shower, or the nights Asmo would stumble back to the house covered in lipstick stains and reeking cheap perfume, or when Mammon would return covered head-to-toe in mud from walking Cerberus. You needed your time, you had told them. And they'd obliged. So, you'd set up a small routine to relax.  
Which was exactly what you were doing. You slip out of your silk robe (gifted by Asmo, naturally) and take a step onto the stool. The shared bathtub was absolutely massive, and you had to shyly ask Lucifer if he had a stool you could use just so you didn't have to climb into the damned thing the first week here. At a distance, it looked normal until... you stepped closer and realized that it wasn't. Although, you supposed it made sense considering how large the brothers were, especially Beel. It was hard picturing him fitting into a normal-sized tub, especially remembering that he struggled to submerge himself fully in the one they already had. Chuckling to yourself, you gingerly lowered yourself into the warm water with a sigh as you feel the pressures of the day melt away into the bubbly water.
The candlelight is the only thing illuminating the room, and the soft sounds of the water splashing against the side of the tub is nearly enough to lull you to a soft sleep if you'd decided to give in to the temptation. The brothers seem to be quieter than usual as well tonight, as you would normally hear some kind of yelling while bathed in the silence of the bathroom. You gently kick your feet in the water and watch as the ripple shines in the gentle candlelight. 
The water in the Devildom had shocked you with its opalescent gleam the first time you'd seen it, worried about drinking it. It had reminded you of the colorful outline left from oil slicks in puddles after it would rain. You were relieved to learn that it wasn't toxic, now basking in the slight glow that it gave your skin and the way it soothed any aches that you had. 
It was the perfect night, but you'd regretted not grabbing a snack to keep with you, or a glass of Demonus to drink while you soaked (even though you wouldn't get drunk and it tasted more like a spicy grape juice, you still felt fancy).
"Oh my stars, hon, you would never guess what happened!" You're shaken out of your thoughts as Asmo's shrill voice rings through the open doorway He makes his way over to the bath, pulling up the chair that sat in the corner of the room and you try to hide your growing annoyance. He leans over the edge of the tub, teasing his fingers in the water and playing with the bubbles. "So I was at the Fall, right-"
"Asmo," You say, a quiet warning. 
"And he really thought he could get away with trying to get between me and this other guy! Like, how dumb could you be? So anyways I turned to him and-"
"Asmo!" The demon pouts, folding his arms on the warm porcelain and resting his head on them, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "I'm naked."
"I'm aware," He huffs, pursing his lips. "I've seen you bare before, love. Even if I hadn't, your body is not unappealing." He winks and you feel your face heat up. "So back to what I was saying-"
"MC!" Another shout and you groan, sinking deeper into the bath. "You're never gonna guess what I just did! I won the horse races! Highest bet, baby!" Mammon pumps his fist in the air as he beams, mussed hair likely from nervously running his hands through it. 
"You're interrupting my story, you ass!" Asmo shouts. 
"This is more important than your dumb story, drama queen!"
"Mammon!" You grumble. "Bathing?" He doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues to pace around the room, recalling every small detail about the race. His keychain clicks against the chains that loop from his belt, the clinking ringing through the room and grating on your nerves even more. Asmo continues to mindlessly play with the bubbles, even raising a soft hand to place a small crown of bubbles atop your head. You take it as a quiet apology from the demon. 
"I finally finished the book you'd asked me about-" Satan, as perceptive as he is, seems to understand your harsh glare from within the bath as he walks confidently through the open door (courtesy of Mammon and his excited forgetfulness). "And I'm aware that this is your time but I simply could not wait another moment-" He sits beside Asmo, nearly pushing the smaller man off the chair. The latter gasps dramatically, rounded lips forming a harsh 'o' shape as he holds his hand over his heart, offended as ever.
"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother. 
"You are now," He sneers before slipping open his book, reading through various notes and post-its he left buried within the pages. "Now, this scene in particular really stuck with me, and I'd very much like to hear your thoughts on it. It's when the protagonist-"
"Mc," Another quiet, almost apologetic voice from the doorway. Beel stands, nearly taking up the entire entrance, with armfuls of chips as he empties a bag into his mouth and tosses it into the trash near the sink. "I felt like you were hungry, so I got you something to eat," He holds out another bag and you take it, sighing as you fumble to open it and dig in. 
"Thanks, big guy," He hums before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a still dejected Mammon, offering the older a bag as well. You don't have it in you to be annoyed at the gentle giant, and you were getting a little hungry, after all. 
"Anyways, back to my story-" Asmo begins, filling up the silence. 
"I didn't finish either," The second born growls through a mouthful of chips. 
"Finish eating, and Asmo, you were here first, you did your time and now it's my turn-" Satan shuts both of them down. 
"I wanna tell them about practice-" Beel interjects, moving on to another bag of chips. "I did a really cool move where-"
"Mc!" Another familiar voice joins the fray. "SoIwaswatchingthatshowyoutoldmeaboutandIthoughtitwasreallycoolandthere's-" Levi takes a gasping breath before continuing. "Areallyreallyreallycoolshowcaseonitinthehumanworldcomingupandweshoulddefinitelygo-"
"Levi, sweetheart, please breathe." You remind him, sinking deeper into the bath until it's just your eyes and nose peeking out from the surface of the water, glad that it muffles the sound a bit. 
"We should definitely go and wear matching costumes like the main characters and it'll be really cool and I already have an idea on how to make the props and it'll take a bit of time but we can definitely get it done in time and-"
"Ignore him," Satan sighs. "Anyways, I believe this scene is incredible I mean, did you see the wording in the second to last paragraph? It was so emotional I could hardly believe that he was faking it the whole time and-"
"My love, I never finished telling my story!" Asmo whines, pulling at your knee, which escaped from the water and is exposed to the chill of the air from when you sunk down further. "So then we ordered some Demonus, you know, as you do, and then this song starts playing and he comes back, so Solomon and I look at each other- you know that one look we share sometimes?- yes, that one, so we look at each other and then-"
"Hey, with all the money I just got, we should go shopping, yeah?" Somehow, Mammon had snuck around to the other side of the tub and started pacing on that side, grinning to himself. "I'll spoil ya rotten, I swear. Where do ya wanna hit first? We could go to Majolish, or we could hit that designer store up in the human world ya were tellin' me about-"
Beel continues to sit in silence, but his loud crunching is nearly deafening with all the noise the brothers are making, each of them unwilling to stop talking and wait their turn. 
"Mc-" A yawn. "Here you are-" Belphie stumbles, half-awake (and you weren't even sure of that, with how limbs moved ragdoll-like and the way his eyes were still closed.) "...was looking... everywhere..." He cuts himself with a snore before he falls forward and his stomach collides with the side of the tub, flipping over and landing in the water with you. 
"Belphie!" You shriek, fumbling to simultaneously get as far away from the still-sleeping demon as possible while trying to save him and while also trying to cover yourself from the eyes of the men in the room. 
"You're naked?!" Mammon screams, backing away until his back hits the wall. 
"HUH?!" You hear Levi wail before a thud sounds through the room and, if Satan's snort is any sign, you were sure he'd definitely just passed out and was lying unconscious on the cold tile of the bathroom. 
"Of course they're naked!" Asmo hums. "Who bathes with clothes on?"
"I don't care! Someone get Belphie out right fucking now!" You scramble up the side of the tub, feeling the rough fabric of his cardigan as he surfaces for air, still asleep as he hugs you as close to him as possible, burying his face- or what little you could see of it, with how his soaked hair conceals practically the entire thing- in the crook of your neck and wrapping his legs around your own (you grimace at the feeling of his wet sweatpants against you). Beel comes to your rescue as he attempts to pry his twin's arms off of you and apologizing every time his hands brush your exposed skin. Embarrassment heats your face as you try to squirm away, shouting at Mammon to grab you a towel as more and more water sloshes out of the tub, effectively soaking the pages of Satan's book and smearing some of Asmo's makeup. The former lets out an annoyed grumble as he curses the seventh for falling in and causing a scene in the first place while the latter gasps and rushes towards the mirror to assess the damages done, complaining about how perfectly his makeup was done today and now he was going to have to start all over-
Mammon rushes forward, towel in his extended arm as he slips on the spilled water with a yelp and sends himself flying into the tub as well, landing on top of Beel, who was still attempting to pry Belphie off of you. Beel, shocked by the impact, drops Belphie back onto you and is sent forward by Mammon's weight. Mammon follows close second, leaving you with three demons now in the tub as you try to shove all three off of you. It's difficult for them, as Beel is face-down in the water, his face wedged between your stomach and Belphies, with his legs bent awkwardly out of the tub and Mammon wedged between you and the wall, hands unable to find purchase as he's contorted and squished- not to mention that Belphie's legs had attempted to wrap tighter around your own and had successfully trapped Mammon's arm against your thigh and his face against the space between your shoulder blades, as well as further squishing his twin's face between the two of you. Both your hands are occupied with getting their heads out of the water so they could at least breathe, with two fistfuls of ginger locks and snow-white ones. 
"Everyone out, NOW!" Lucifer's voice rings from the doorway and the room is silent once more. The eldest grabs Beel's collar and pulls him out of the tub, with a grumbling Belphie following close behind (finally awake from the shouting). Mammon follows soon after, skirting out of the room without needing to be asked twice, not concerned in the slightest about how soaked his designer jacket was as you were sure he was going to explode from how red his face was. Asmo and Satan follow close behind, with the fourth-born grabbing a still-unconscious Levi by the ankle and dragging him out of the room. You sigh and sink into what little is left of the water, resting your head against the edge of the tub. 
"Thank you," You sigh. "That was a nightmare." 
"Of course," The firstborn stands still for a moment, clearing his throat. "While I am here, I recently received the scores from the exam that you had taken last week-"
"Lucifer," You glare at the man, eye twitching in annoyance. "Out."
He sighs, turning on his heel and striding out the door, closing it behind him with a click. Finally, in silence, you try to relax once more. 
The pounding of your heart doesn't allow it, though.
Neither do the bruises on your stomach from Beel's hard-as-a-rock forehead, or on your ribs from when Mammon had elbowed you in an attempt to flee, or the scratch on your back from when Beel had tried to separate Belphie from you only to find that the youngest was going to fight tooth and nail to continue your impromptu cuddle session and dug his bitten nails into your skin.
You laugh bitterly- something caught between an annoyed growl and a sob- and slam your fist uselessly against the porcelain. 
You were going to get them back for this.
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nickmarini · 3 months ago
Note
Hi! I absolutely loved you in Downfall and it was incredible to see the rp chemistry you have with Brennan. I’m sure his long running home game that you’re a player in is very special and I was wondering if there are any standout moments that you’d be willing to share!
Huge fan, hope to see you in the d20 dome some day!
Thank you so much! Brens home game is so special and has been a massive part of my life. There are some truly insane moments, one of my last roles was maybe the most epic roll I have ever made but that would require an essay to explain lol. I think it’s deserving of a fireside telling.
One of the funniest moments of tormenting Bren was when in a fight against a bunch of fairies, one of them cast globe of invulnerability. In 3.5 tiny creatures get a large penalty to grappling. My character rides a huge sized gryphon. Huge creatures get an conversely large bonus to grapple.My gryphon simply flew over and grappled the fairy by attempting to eat it. I then flew around the battle fighting a bunch of sorcerers with a mobile globe of invulnerability emanating from its mouth. Bren was not happy about it.
One time we were attacking this evil wizard/sorcerers tower in the middle of the ocean and when we arrived cast a bunch of buff spells to get ready to fight. Bren then described that where we entered was a long staircase and 10+ min later we were still climbing and all our buffs had expired 😂🤣 it was a dastardly piece of architecture by a wizard who knew his durations.
But honestly so many of the truly standout moments came from being with my best friends of 15 years sitting around a table playing a game. Crying over losing an npc or jumping for joy over a much needed win. As much as I love mechanics and some good dice rolling nothing beats telling a story with your friends and loved ones, or walking into the apartment where you’re going to play for the first time in 6 months and seeing people you love. We tell stories because stories help build community and those communities are what will always stand out most to me.
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marvelstoriesepic · 2 months ago
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Latte (He)art
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Pairing: Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader
Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.
Word Count: 7.8k 🐻☕🧋🍪
Warnings: Reader having College stress; mentions of a single mother (not reader); some coffee is spilled; Bucky is a sweetheart; Bucky is worried
Author’s Note: This little piece is written for @elixirfromthestars writing challenge. I actually planned to write this a month earlier but life got in between lol. Here it is now. I dearly hope you enjoy what I made of your lovely prompt.
🤎Coffee Cup🤎 “So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” -Anthony Lazaro
Masterlist
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The windows of the coffee shop receive more of your attention than the assortment of pastries you’re supposed to prepare to showcase behind the counter.
It’s fifteen minutes before Bucky’s shift starts and your belly flutters at the thought of seeing him again.
The early morning sun filters through the windows, offering a soft glow that casts warm beams of light to sweep across the floor and catch the glistening frosting on the cinnamon rolls. Their sweet, spiced aroma laced with hints of vanilla and brown sugar wafts through the air.
However, your gaze is more drawn to the street outside, scanning the road for a short mop of chestnut hair.
You like to snag shifts before the classes of your day start, relishing in the early morning hours and being satisfied with getting some work done before studying. But in the two and a half months since you started working at ‘Barnes Brown Beans’, you had come to recognize Bucky seems to prefer working in the morning as well. So, he actually may be the main reason.
Also, you’re usually, coincidentally - or so you tell yourself - paired with him anyway.
You’re grateful for this job. The shop’s close proximity to your university makes it an easy commute and the wages are fair. That’s a blessing in itself. But more than that, it was George and Winifred Barnes, the owners, who initially made it easy for you to love this job.
Winifred had greeted you with sweet enthusiasm at your job interview for a part-time job, making you instantly feel more at ease. After asking a few routine questions and warmly assuring you that the position was yours, she shifted the conversation to your studies with genuine interest and asked if you were good with balancing work and university life - a mother's worries.
It didn’t take long for her to start gushing about her children. She explained to you how her son, Bucky, had been helping out at the coffee shop ever since high school. Instead of pursuing college, like many of his peers and his best friend Steve, he chose to stay in New York to help manage the family business. “I’m sure you two will get along well” she had said with a kind of knowing grin you couldn’t make sense of.
She even shared with you that his little sister, Rebecca, always had a burning passion for studying architecture abroad. Unfortunately, the Barnes simply couldn’t afford a college education for both children, so Bucky decided to step up, taking on more responsibility at the shop so his parents wouldn’t be overwhelmed and relieving them of some stressful work, allowing his sister to follow her dreams.
She spoke with so much love and gratitude she held for her son, it almost made you tear up. She mentioned that Bucky never once showed resentment or regret for the path he chose.
Instead, he took pride in his role, and you could see it too. During your brief time working with him, you noticed how he carried himself with a quiet determination. There is genuine joy in the way he treats customers, always kind and attentive, and he always puts so much care into every small detail of his work.
He also loves to tell you about the exams his sister passed, and the friends she made; pride in her success evident when he speaks about her.
You admire him. He’s selfless, hardworking, and full of heart.
So it’s just logical that his parents gave him so much responsibility early on and made him part of the management.
You don’t mind that one second though, because he takes his authority incredibly seriously and usually shows up for his shifts earlier than he needs to.
It’s why your gaze is drawn to the panes of glass at the front once again.
You got in at 7 today, getting enthusiastically greeted by George - as he told you to call him on your first day - and tasked with the usual morning routine. So, as he disappeared into the small office room at the back of the shop, you had started prepping the food equipment and putting it on display.
The shop wouldn’t open until 8, so you still had some time to breathe before the morning rush would start, but you always feel some kind of gratitude at the way George lets you handle yourself at the front while waiting for Bucky to arrive at 7:30 to help out.
Admittedly, you didn’t get that much done yet, caused by the thought of seeing Bucky walk in through the door at any minute.
You saw him just 4 days ago at your last shift, but the giddy anticipation is all the same and you only have three and a half hours with him today before you have to leave for your classes.
The buttery, sweet, and slightly nutty smell of the freshly baked croissants you’re currently rearranging wafts from the trays and reaches your nostrils, but gets ignored the second you hear keys jiggling outside, and your attention snaps to the door.
“Morning doll!”
Bucky’s smooth voice comes through the door with him, cheerful as always as he greets you with a charming smile, and your chest flutters. A rush of cool air hits your exposed skin from outside, but his grin is warming you back up quickly.
You fumble with the croissant in your hand, but recover in time and throw him a smile of your own, hoping you’re able to mask the excitement you tried to hold in all morning.
“Morning, Bucky,” you greet him back sweetly, turning your attention back to the pastries, pretending to focus on your task at hand.
Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Bucky pulls off his coat and then makes his way over to you, hovering over your shoulder, while putting on his apron. You try to hide the way your hands get a little clammy in the see-through gloves you’re wearing while touching the food.
You tend to the fruit danishes, their glossy, golden crust filled with rich cream cheese and topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and apricots.
Carefully placing each in its designated spot, you only manage to breathe a little easier when you feel Bucky move over to the coffee machines, their steady hum filling the quiet space as Bucky busies himself.
“Smells amazing, doll,” he calls over his shoulder and you can hear the grin in his voice.
You let out a soft laugh, glancing at him briefly before putting your head back around. “Didn’t make them, Bucky,” you explain, tone playful but modest.
Brewing coffee and clinking mugs are the only sounds you hear before Bucky’s hum reaches your ears. “Maybe you should,” he states, teasing laced with a hint of sincerity. “Bet they’d be gone in seconds.”
You’re grateful that Bucky isn’t in your line of sight because you feel heat creeping up your neck, coloring your cheeks. Your laugh is a little breathless, a little more insecure than you intended.
A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned your love for baking when Bucky had asked about your hobbies, and ever since he loved to bring it up every once in a while.
“I don’t know about that.” You try for nonchalance, but the blush doesn’t leave your face.
“Gotta give yourself more credit, doll,” he replies easily, his words wrapped in that effortless charm of his. You hear some more clinking of cups as he makes one for himself, just like every day. “Want coffee?”
He asks every time. You decline, like every time. Though he never fails to ask.
And it never fails to make your morning feel just a little bit brighter.
****
Watching Bucky create his latte art has become one of the highlights of your day. There is something mesmerizing in the way he moves, pouring the steamed milk with such precision and focus as if each cup would get graded by an artist.
You’ve noticed how much care he puts into it, the way he pauses before finishing, always needing it to be perfect.
You can tell when Bucky isn’t quite satisfied, like right now, as he holds up the cup that looks flawless to you. But there is a twitch of his mouth, a slight hesitation in his hand as if he’s debating whether to start over or risk making it worse with one more pour.
It’s adorable, really. To you, they all look perfect, but he holds himself to a standard that’s somehow both admirable and endearing.
Today, Bucky was the one already there when you arrived at 8 am, along with the first customers of the day.
The scent of fresh coffee had filled the air as you stepped inside, a soft murmur of conversation around you setting the tone for the morning rush.
He was stationed behind the counter, together with one of your coworkers, Peter. It didn’t escape your notice that Bucky caught your eye immediately, flashing you that warm, easy smile even before acknowledging Mr. Nakajima, a frequent visitor.
It was a small gesture but it excited you nonetheless.
Mr. Nakajima, or Yori as you’d heard Bucky call him, now sits in his usual corner, peacefully sipping his tea; his quiet presence a constant in the shop.
The older man always seems content to watch the people go in and out of the shop, observing the ebb and flow of the crowd, wrinkled hands wrapped around his cup as if savoring the warmth.
Bucky often took time to sit with him when things were slow, sharing long and comfortable conversations that seemed to be meaningful. There is something about the way Bucky treats Yori that tugs at your heart.
It seems, that right now Bucky is comfortable with leaving Peter and you to attend to the ebbing crowd as he makes his way to Yori's table and slowly lowers himself in front of him.
You deliberately turn away although there isn’t much to do for you right now since the morning rush is over and Peter attends to the only customer in the shop right now. So, you mindlessly wipe down the counter, not because you’re not interested, but if you spend any more attention on the guy you might get overwhelmed by the awe he arises in you.
The way Bucky smiles when he talks to the old man, the way his face lights up with that blinding, heart-stopping grin - it has a dizzying effect on you. And the laugh he lets slip every so often, low and full of warmth, makes it hard to concentrate on any coffee orders.
Bucky stays at Yori's table for a while. Every now and then you make out his face turning in your direction, lingering a little but you stay focused on your work.
“Y/n?”
The sound of Peters's voice makes your head snap over to him, blinking in expectation.
“Sorry, uh, you seemed a little distracted for a sec,” Peter says with a shy laugh, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flickering not so subtly over to Bucky.
Alright, maybe you have looked a few times. Whatever.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, doing your best to ignore the knowing grin spreading across Peter's face. Thankfully, a girl around your age approaches the counter, saving you from the growing awkwardness. You flash her a smile and focus on her order.
More customers start to stream in, the café again beginning to buzz with activity. Bucky, noticing the crowd building up, excuses himself from Yori’s table with a friendly pat on the old man’s shoulder. He steps back behind the counter, his easygoing demeanor never faltering as he joins in beside you. You share a quick smile.
Working with Bucky always makes it fun in some sense, time slipping by too quickly. Before you know it, it’s time for you to head out for your first class of the day.
You step away from the counter, untie your apron, and grab your things, already feeling reluctant to leave Bucky’s side.
“Already time to go?” Bucky asks, turned in your direction, his voice carrying that familiar deep drawl. There’s a slight disappointment laced in his tone, that doesn’t escape you.
“Yeah,” you sigh, “first class is-“
“History,” he finishes for you, without missing a beat.“I remember.”
You hadn’t expected him to recall such a small detail about your schedule, surprise registering on your face. But you quickly push out a smile, nodding at him, your heart doing a little somersault.
“Hold on,” he insists quietly, already moving to snap up a to-go bag and carefully placing a croissant inside. With a casual grin, he holds it out for you to take. “On the house.”
This isn’t the first time Bucky has given you something to go, insisting you take it as a gift. But it never gets easier to accept his small acts of kindness. You hesitate, not making a move to take the bag and Bucky’s smirk only deepens, playing the same game you’ve had before.
“Take it, doll,” he drawls, dangling the bag in front of your face with a playful glint in his eye. “Can’t let you go to class hungry, now can I?”
You can’t help but roll your eyes with a smile tugging at your lips, and snatch the bag from his hand with mock annoyance. “Fine, but this is the last time,” you warn, rather weakly it seems, considering the way Bucky leans against the counter with his arms crossed, smirking at you in an amused manner.
“You know it’s not. Can’t fault me for taking care of you, doll. You haven’t eaten anything all morning.”
His words are casual, but the way he says it, the unspoken concern that lingers, makes giddy warmth rise in your stomach, spreading to your face and heating your skin.
You hope it’s not that obvious, so you just sigh again, dramatically, and exaggerate an eye roll as Bucky lets another cup get filled with coffee, eyes remaining on you, a chuckle fleeing his lips.
You make your way to the door of the shop, knowing you’d just pay him back by slipping some money into the tip jar when you’re in earlier than him.
“And no leaving dollars in the tip jar, sweetheart,” Bucky calls out behind you, the smug amusement clear in his voice. “Ma told me about that.”
Busted.
You turn you head with a faux helpless look, which only sends him into a fit of laughter, the sound rich and full, echoing through the shop, and your heart bursts, ignoring the people standing in the line wearing looks between confusion and annoyance. Laughing quietly yourself, you let the warmth of the moment fill you up, then quickly slip out the door before the flustered grin on your face can betray you any further.
With the door closed, the sounds of the café seal off behind you and you find yourself lingering just a second longer than the last time.
****
“Girl, I’m telling you, that’s nothing! I accidentally made a girl’s latte with cow's milk although she’d ordered oat. Chased her down the street like a lunatic, I mean she could have had an allergy and whatnot. Turns out it was just a preference and she didn’t mind. Talk about embarrassing.”
You chuckle along to Gina’s story, dusting the cappuccino in front of you with a sprinkle of cinnamon, scents mingling together.
Regina - or Gina as she prefers - is always someone you enjoy working with together. She’s incredibly open-minded and carries that vibrant energy you need to get through the day. She’s got a few years on you but never fails to make you laugh.
While brewing coffee and selling them, she loves to tell you about her little boy, Nikita. You’ve seen pictures of him on her phone and he’s adorable with puffy cheeks, dark curls, and dark green eyes. He must have those from his father.
You know she is a single mother and you admire the way she takes it with pride, finding peace in her situation and insisting that she and Nikita are better off without his father.
You’ve also come to find out that 'Barnes Brown Beans' wasn’t the only job she had but that George and Winifred are so much fairer than her other boss, being supportive and trying to give her shifts that accommodate her schedule so she could pick up Nikita from kindergarden early enough to still have time with him every day.
Another thing that makes this job so valuable.
Earlier was a brief lull in the crowd, allowing you and her to chat. The conversation had drifted into the realm of embarrassing work stories. You shared one of your own, recalling how, in your first week, you had prepared a to-go coffee. You felt that nervousness that comes with starting a new job and as you tried to slide the cup over the counter to the customer, your aim had been far too enthusiastic. The cup sailed past the edge, spinning gracefully through the air before landing in the trash bin.
You hoped that perhaps nobody really saw what happened besides the slightly perturbed man in front of you. But since you shared this shift with Bucky and he always seems to have an eye on you, of course, he was a witness. You remember the way his laugh had erupted, uncontainable, filling the air behind the counter. He had leaned against it for support while you stood there, cheeks burning.
He didn’t make you feel bad though, helping you remake the coffee and almost sheepishly adding that the same thing happened to him once. Only, in his case, it was a porcelain cup. And it didn’t land in the bin. The image of it crashing to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces as coffee splattered everywhere, was enough to make you feel a little less embarrassed.
“Something funny?”
The familiar voice catches you off guard and you look up from the register. Sure enough, Bucky is strolling up to the counter, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets and that handsome grin on his face that always causes your stomach to do flips.
“Bucky?” you ask, a soft, confused laugh escaping you. You feel your heart jump in excitement and try to tone it down. He wasn’t supposed to come in for a few more hours, and you had already resigned yourself to the disappointment of missing him today. You’d seen the shift schedule last week and the realization was like a cloud casting a shadow over your mood.
So, seeing him standing in front of you only makes a smile stretch wide without even thinking.
“I think you’re a little early,” you assess, voice light as you ring up the girl standing at the counter. Handing her the cappuccino, you glance back at him, the small transaction barely registering as your attention stays fixed on Bucky.
His grin only widens as he shrugs with a kind of faux nonchalance, letting his gaze sweep across the room. His smile stays in place, even as he steps aside for a middle-aged man approaching you.
“Couldn’t stay away,” he teases with that signature edge of playfulness that always gets to you.
As you start to prepare the man’s coffee, you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you, watching your every move. It’s a weight you’ve grown fond of - his silent observation that makes you more aware of yourself, in a good way.
You flash him a quick smile before refocusing.
“Also had to know how that exam went,” he adds casually, leaning in just a little, but you’re aware of that curiosity his voice always carries when he asks you about college. Or anything about your life, really.
You huff out a small laugh, ringing up the man’s order and sliding his coffee across the counter before turning your full attention back to Bucky. “Wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be,” you answer him, a hint of relief in your tone since you had been stressing about this exam for weeks. “I think I did okay.”
Bucky leans against the counter now, propping himself up in that relaxed way of his, eyes never leaving yours. You’re glad you get to talk to him, glad that Gina attends to the only current customer right now and you have a second with Bucky, but the unknown power his gaze holds over you threatens to overwhelm you.
“What’d I tell ya, doll? Of course, you did great. Smartest girl I know.”
You snort, but your heart races. He always seems so sure of your success, having this confidence in you, that you feel you lack sometimes and it makes warmth pool in your gut. “Well I guess I’ll have to thank you, then,” you reply, smile present and voice light but the gratitude is real.
His scent - a mix of something warm and clean, almost earthy, and his cologne - cuts through the usual aroma of coffee beans and pastries. It’s grounding and you have to remind yourself to focus as you move toward the coffee machines.
“Do you want coffee?” you throw over your shoulder, fingers already hovering over the buttons.
Bucky straightens up in your peripherals and you make out the shake of his head with that soft smile on his face. “Don’t wanna keep you from work. I’ll make it myself, thanks doll!”
The door to the café swings open and three girls walk in together, laughter filling the room as they make their way over to you. Bucky’s movements snap your head back to him as he casually slips behind the counter, stepping up to the coffee machines and you head back to the register, keeping awareness of his presence as always.
Since Bucky’s shift doesn’t start yet, he stays lingering behind the counter and engages in conversation with Gina when he notices you getting busy again. From where you stand you can hear snippets of their conversation - Bucky asking about Nikita and when he gets to see him again.
You never realized they are that close but the thought of Bucky caring about that little boy instantly heats your skin. There’s a softness to imagining him in that role, and you can easily picture how good he must be with kids.
After all, you’ve seen it before - the way his face lights up when he catches sight of children toddling along beside their parents, the way he bends down to their height, engages them in little conversations that always leave them giggling or grinning from ear to ear. It’s endearing and really no wonder that every child he talks to seems to adore him.
But what really tugs at your heart, what causes a flutter deep in your chest, is the subtle way Bucky’s attention keeps drifting back to you.
Even in the middle of his chat with Gina, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. There is a quiet fondness in the way he watches you go about your work, always wearing that soft expression.
It’s not like he’s checking if you’re doing your job right - nothing about it feels critical or scrutinizing. Instead, it’s as if he’s simply enjoying observing you, absorbing the way you move through your tasks, as though he’s eager to learn all the little details that make up your routine.
And surprisingly, it doesn’t make you as nervous as you might have believed. If anything, there is something soothing about his attention, like a silent reassurance you never knew you needed.
Occasionally, throughout your shift, Bucky strikes up conversations with familiar customers - frequent flyers whose names he already knows by heart. You catch bits and pieces of their easy small talk, but even then, his eyes always find their way back to you.
And every time you meet them, your heart swells with hope that perhaps the reason he came in early for his shift might be you.
****
Your week has been nothing short of overwhelming and frustrating - packed with assignments, papers to write, and facts to memorize. To top it off, a fellow student had yelled at you for breaking his pen, and you still remember that disappointed glint in your professor's eyes after failing to give him satisfying answers in class.
It feels like you are constantly juggling everything at once, and somehow, the balance has tipped entirely.
Sleep has become a rare luxury, replaced by caffeine-fueled study sessions that stretch into the early hours of the morning.
As you walk to the café for your afternoon shift, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, the exhaustion settling in your bones.
You rarely work afternoon shifts, but this one fits perfectly behind your friday classes and you have been too swamped the rest of the week to pick up any shifts at all.
Your pace is slower than usual, feet dragging slightly on the pavement. There is no real need to hurry today. Normally, your steps would quicken as you approached the café, that familiar, sweet sign with its three big B’s always managing to lift your mood.
But today the excitement isn’t there. Not when you know Bucky has the day off. Without him there, the urgency to get to work just isn’t the same.
But, thinking about it, it might be for the best that Bucky is not around today. You can’t imagine you look all that appealing right now, with dark bags under your eyes - the kind that no amount of concealer could hide. Your skin has that worn-out, dull shimmer to it - the kind that no amount of caffeine could mask.
You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a shop window as you pass and wince slightly. The fatigue shows in your features, and for a moment, you’re thankful that this day won’t include the possibility of Bucky catching sight of you in this state.
You’re partly relieved to have a shift where you can simply focus on getting through it without feeling self-conscious. There is no need to hide how utterly drained you feel because you really couldn’t care less how your appearance would affect your customers. You just need to make it through these few hours, go home, and hopefully, finally get some rest.
You pull open the door, gathering what little composure you can muster. The all-known blend of rich coffee, baked pastries, and warm, cozy air greets you as always, along with the chatter from the packed room. It’s busy, as expected for this time of day, but the environment surprisingly helps ground you as you weave your way through the crowd, slipping between patrons.
Your eyes catch Winifred at the back, her beaming smile a quick but comforting sight before she disappears behind the office door with a wave.
Side-stepping two men chatting near the line, you get a clearer view of the counter and freeze - feet refusing to continue.
Thanks to the work schedule you know who your coworkers are today. Peter was assigned, as well as Wanda, a nice, but slightly odd girl with a thick accent and laser-like focus on her task.
You had prepared for them both. But it isn’t Wanda standing next to Peter behind the counter.
It’s Bucky.
Your heart jumps into your throat and you’re not sure if it’s because of the surprise of seeing him or because of how unprepared you feel in this exact moment. You didn’t even check your hair in a car window before entering.
He’s here - on his supposed day off - laughing with a guy on the other side of the counter as he works the espresso machine, his movements smooth and practiced; no surprise there. His presence is so casual and effortless that you find yourself thinking your tired eyes might have looked at the wrong day on the schedule and perhaps you aren’t even supposed to work today. Though Winifred wasn’t at all surprised to see you.
Your head spins at the simple thought and yet a ripple of warmth shoots through you at the sight of him, making you momentarily forget just how drained you are.
While every fiber of your being wants to feel self-conscious about your tired eyes and the imperfections on your skin, craving to stay hidden between the line of people, the longer you watch him work, it gets overtaken by something else.
That same old lightness that seems to follow him wherever he goes and sticks to you when you’re near enough, soaking into your veins and filling them with energy. You can practically feel them fizzle.
You would have liked to linger in this moment just a little longer, but it’s cut short abruptly when he spots you. His polite smile brightens instantly, eyebrows moving up slightly as his eyes lighten up.
You flash him a smile in return, though you can feel it wobble at the edges, probably more sheepish than anything else. Maybe it even comes off as a grimace with the exhaustion weighing on you, but you quickly break eye contact and resume walking.
For a moment, you make out Bucky’s hand pausing mid-motion, hovering above the counter before he slides a to-go cup to the waiting guy on the other side.
Passing by, you can feel his gaze trailing after you, burning softly against your skin, a quiet but intense presence that follows you even when you’re not looking.
You busy yourself with dialing in for the shift, wrapping your apron around your waist, doing your best to shake off the fatigue and the flutter that Bucky’s unexpected presence elicits in you.
From behind you, you catch the sound of his voice, though it sounds a little distracted, asking the next customer to repeat their order.
You glance back, quickly greeting Peter as you pass, but your focus is drawn to the pastry case, where a small woman waits for service. You keep your hands moving, bagging up her choice of pastries - two croissants and four scones - but make out Bucky’s head turning in your direction a few times.
You steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye, noticing the slight furrow in his brow as he works. He’s a little slower now, less sure in his movements than when you first walked in. It’s subtle, but you can tell his focus is slipping. Something about his energy has shifted.
Minutes pass and the three of you stay busy with the steady stream of customers. You remain behind the pastry case, preparing the treats for the eager crowd. In between transactions, you notice Bucky taking a step in your direction, hesitating each time like he wants to step closer but keeps pulling himself back at the last second.
He returns to the register every time, tending to the next person in line, but there is an urgency in his movements now. His hands got quicker again, fingers tapping impatiently against the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew and his gaze falls back to you every so often but you avoid it.
Another few minutes tick by and you begin to settle into the rhythm of the shift when a sudden shout rings out from the front.
Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the group of people stepping back from the counter hastily, startled by the splash of coffee that arcs through the air.
The cup that had caused the commotion clinks against the counter, slipping in Bucky’s hand and his other one shoots out to hold it steady before it can meet the ground alongside the coffee that was in it moments before.
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky exclaims, his voice thick with frustration as he shakes his head at himself, wiping the spilled brown liquor from his hands. He quickly puts away the cup and apologizes again to the man it was meant for and the crowd of people who got startled.
The customer, a guy who looks to be in his mid-twenties, holds up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly not bothered by the accident. His jacket sleeve is stained with coffee, but he brushes it off with a casual shrug. “No worries, man, really. Nothing happened, you’re good!”
Bucky doesn’t seem to relax. You can see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders are still tight as he remakes the drink with stiff, almost mechanical precision. You’ve never seen him so rattled but then again, he has been unfocused ever since he saw you.
Work continues steadily for the next half hour, with the rush of patrons finally starting to taper off. The café gradually empties, the throng thinning out until only a handful of people remain, some of them sitting in booths going on with their conversations.
You catch sight of Bucky leaning in closer to Peter, murmuring something you can’t quite make out. Peter nods, and without another word and a small pat on Peter’s shoulder, Bucky steps back from the counter.
This time, his hesitation is gone as he strides over to you.
He stops beside you, eyes on your profile. “Hey,” he speaks softly, voice low.
You finish helping a boy, thanking him for the tip before turning to Bucky with a small smile.
“Hey,” you reply, voice matching his softness but quieter. You turn your attention to the young girl in front of you, requesting a cookie. Reaching for a bag to tuck the treat inside, you continue the conversation, though your eyes stay focused downward.
“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” you comment, sensing his gaze on you.
“Yeah, uh, I took Wanda’s shift,” Bucky responds, his voice a little more tentative now. You notice him shuffling slightly beside you, standing up straighter.
He offers no further explanation as to why he picked up the shift, and you don’t feel the energy to ask about it. For some reason, the simple act of bagging a cookie while talking to him feels like a juggling act your tired brain isn’t quite up for.
So all you manage is a noncommittal hum in response.
The girl leaves with her cookie and Bucky stays beside you, solid and unyielding in his gaze. It presses on you like a weight as the moments pass.
Your stomach flutters uneasily when you realize there’s no line left to distract you, no excuse to stay busy.
You move automatically, reaching for the paper bags, rearranging them with a bit more force than necessary, trying to give yourself something to focus on, something other than Bucky’s eyes burning into you.
“Are you okay?” he asks finally, slowly and lowly, as if the question is something private meant only for you. It is. You feel the shift in his tone, the way he leans in slightly as if he needs a sincere answer to his sincere question.
It pulls your attention to him and you reluctantly lift your head, your heart twisting at the sight. Bucky gazes down at you with an expression far more serious than you’ve ever seen. His blue eyes, usually filled with a glimmering light when he looks at you, hold an amount of concern that seems to have an impact on his stiff muscles.
“I’m fine, Bucky,” you declare gently, smiling at him in hopes it’ll reassure him, though even before the words have left your lips completely, you felt it wasn’t entirely convincing.
Bucky studies you a moment longer. His eyes trace your features, dark brows hanging low, but you don’t take your words back.
Then, after a pause he lets out a long drawn sigh, hanging his head in defeat. He obviously doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it. The concern in his eyes remains but he lets it go, stepping back from you slowly.
He walks over to the coffee machines, deliberately trying to feign casualness. He grabs a cup and turns the familiar button after checking if Peter needs some help at the register, the whirring sound of brewing coffee filling the brief silence between you.
“You want some coffee?” he asks, like clockwork - just as he does every time you work together.
Without thinking, you open your mouth to decline, as usual. It’s almost muscle memory at this point, your automatic response. But then, mid-through, you pause. Another shot of caffeine can’t hurt. You can use the energy to get home safely without passing out after this shift.
The cup fills, steam rises, and Bucky turns to you when you take too long to answer.
You hesitate for a beat, then shift your gaze away, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, I’ll take one,” you decide, stepping beside him to grab yourself a cup, eyes not moving to him.
But before you can reach for one, Bucky’s hand wraps gently around your wrist, halting you. The touch is light, but enough to make your pulse quicken. “Hold on,” he remarks, his voice filled with concern rather than confusion. “You never want coffee when I ask.” His intense eyes search your face again.
“If you always expect me to say no, then why do you keep asking?”
Bucky doesn’t respond immediately. He just keeps looking at you, quietly pleading for honesty. “That ain’t the point,” he softy counters but his voice carries insistence. “Something’s wrong.”
You sigh. God, you’re tired. You really need that coffee and you’d certainly feel terrible for getting annoyed at Bucky. He’s just trying to figure you out. He cares. That thought alone presses against the wall you’ve been trying to maintain all day.
Gently, you pull your wrist from his loose grip, and he lets his hand fall back to his side, though his gaze doesn’t waver.
“Nothing’s wrong.” Damn, that came out hollow. “I’m just a little stressed,” you add when he starts to shake his head, “and I could use a cup. It’s just coffee, Bucky.”
You see the muscles in his jaw tighten and his hand comes up to run through his hair.
“It’s not just coffee, darling,” he sighs. There’s a pause in which he assesses you again, then he continues. “Alright. Don’t take this the wrong way, doll. You know you’re a beautiful gal, but… you look like you’re about to drop dead.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. It looks like tiredness comes with an attitude, because your mind foregoes the part where he called you beautiful, only hearing the other side.
“Well.” You draw out the word. “If you don’t want me to drop dead, then let me have some coffee.” There is a bit of edge to your tone you hadn’t exactly intended, but you’re too tired to smooth it out. You also don’t wait for him to respond, quickly reaching for another cup and pressing the button before Bucky can grab your arm again.
Bucky stays quiet for a moment, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through your walls. He doesn’t look angry - just worried.
As the coffee pours you hear him take a breath. “Alright,” Bucky says quietly, almost under his breath. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he adds after a short pause. Firmness, sincerity, and perhaps an amount of regret are all wrapped in his tone.
He used your name. You haven’t heard him say your name since the first time working here. And never with that much conviction.
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just… worried.” His voice softens even more, it sounds almost pleading and he takes a quick glance back at Peter, who was busy attending to the few patrons mingling about, before refocusing on you, his hand brushing over his hair. “I’ve seen you stressed before. Like when you kept going on about how worried you were for that exam. I watched you go through the stuff you had to learn in your head while remaining so incredibly focused and sweet during work. I admire that, Y/n. I must’ve told you a thousand times you’d ace it, but you wouldn’t believe me.” He chuckles lowly, sheepishly, and he licks his lips, before continuing. His gaze leaves you, mind seemingly far in his memories.
“Or your first day here. You were so nervous about making a mistake. You asked so many questions, were so interested in everything. I kept thinking about you all day. Every day, really.” He took another deep breath. It comes out a little unsteady and his eyes quickly flicker over to you, not quite meeting your own, but still searching your features.
“But this… this is different, and- I don’t know. I don’t like it. Hate it, honestly. Seeing you like this.”
His words hit you deep. The genuine concern and sincerity in his tone make your chest tighten, throat closing up and you feel yourself losing your breath as he takes a small step closer, eyes now fully on yours again. The nerves in his voice that had been there are gone now. Because he’s sure of what he says next. It’s clear in his tone.
“But, sweetheart, even through it all, you still manage to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Drop dead gorgeous, honestly.”
You let out a surprised huff of laughter, partly because it’s easier than acknowledging and processing the meaning of his words. Heat creeps up your cheeks and all you feel like doing is bolt out of the door at the other end of the room but your feet are rooted to the spot. Perhaps, the floor would just give away and you’d fall deep down into the unknown.
That still would be kinder than standing in front of Bucky right now after his heavy confessions, feeling too vulnerable under his soft gaze.
You’re not able to meet his eyes, dropping your head. You know he is still looking at you. You don’t have to feel it to know it. That gentle expression, the reassuring smile - like he’s silently conveying that everything’s okay.
“Let me make you feel better, yeah?” Bucky’s voice is barely above a whisper, gentle, yet filled with intent. He gives you a moment, letting his earlier confessions sink in, before taking hold of the now full cup that is meant for you. Your eyes widen slightly when you see him grab the can of freshly steamed milk, an almost eager smile tugging at his lips.
“Are you pulling your latte art on me?” you ask with a light laugh, some of the tension in your chest loosening. There is a little bit of a teasing note in your voice now, your heartbeat beginning to slow.
“Sure am, doll!” Bucky grins proudly, lifting the cup higher. His brow furrows in concentration as he carefully pours the milk with a steady hand, his tongue briefly poking out as he narrows his eyes to get the design just right. You had seen him do this many times before but never for you.
The precision and dedication he’s giving to something as simple as your coffee makes your heart swell. You’re the one watching him now with a soft smile, utterly mesmerized by how serious he’s taking it.
You take a glance at the other cup - the one Bucky had made for himself and an idea hits you. Steam still rises from the liquid inside, the scent of fresh coffee meeting your nose.
You look around the counter, spotting the milk pot Peter had just set down and, without a second thought, you pick up Bucky’s cup, ready to return the favor. You lift the milk and begin to pour.
“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky’s gaze stays fixed on the cup in his hand, but his smile is beaming, curiosity lacing his words.
“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” you retort, your voice playful as you guide the milk with careful precision, weaving your hand in the practiced motions until you’re satisfied with the design.
Bucky’s chuckle is warm and soft and for a moment, it feels like the world shrinks down to just the two of you, the quiet intimacy cutting through the noise of the ebbing café.
Bucky finishes his work and sets the milk pot back down. There is a slight hesitation in his movements as he hands over the cup for you, a touch of nervousness creeping into his stance. You smile up at him and offer the cup in your hand to him. His hands are a little clammy as they touch yours. You swap coffees.
Your mouth falls open as you take a glance down into the cup. In the creamy white foam, a delicate rose is perfectly etched, its petals spiraling gracefully outward. Surrounding the rose are tiny, intricate hearts, floating around the bloom. The detail is so mesmerizing that all you can do is stare at it.
“This is incredible, Bucky,” you breathe out, voice filled with amazement. When you look up, he’s already watching you. He’s breathing deeply and his smile is in place. But there is also something in his eyes he doesn’t try to hold back - pure adoration, shining clearly like he just can’t hide it anymore.
He holds his own cup carefully, as if it’s something precious, something fragile, as if even the tiniest movement would mess up the heart in white swirling in his cup. Though, you feel like the simple heart pales in comparison to the masterpiece he’s created for you.
“It’s beautiful,” you say quietly, a hint of shyness in your tone. You feel a tiny amount of embarrassment but Bucky just keeps smiling, so warm and incredibly fond, that any hint of insecurity melts away.
“Learned it for you,” he admits it softly, his words slipping out like a secret he’s been holding onto for too long. Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening slightly before you look back down at the cup, tracing the design over and over again with your gaze.
“I love it, Bucky. I love these little hearts,” you address admiringly, almost dreamily.
Bucky is beaming above you, and although he shakes his head softly, his smile never leaves his face. He takes in a deep breath, seemingly needing to compose himself and looks down at his own cup, at the heart in it.
“Well,” he vocalizes, affection surrounded by a playful edge, “my heart’s bigger.”
You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”
He chuckles, that vibrating sound, that always makes your chest feel lighter. “I can teach you,” he offers, his bright blues looking deeply into your eyes, so full of affection that it makes your breath catch for a second.
And in that second - because that’s all it takes - everything shifts. For the better. Always for the better, because it’s hard to feel anything negative when Bucky smiles at you the way he does.
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“you deserve
the kind of love
like hot coffee between your lips
that loves you gently
but makes you bold
and gives you life between the sips”
- a.b.
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kayewrite · 3 months ago
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Like I Do
(i just wanna love you)
genre:; fluff, best friends to lovers. word count: 1864
jeongin x reader. college jeongin!. architect student Jeongin! (writing for him cause university jeongin is what i always dream of *sobs*0
wherein: you tried to stop you feelings for your best friend especially he has a girl.
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College is something—
Something you don’t want to do but have to do.
Something hard to do, but you need to do it anyway because your future is in there.
You sigh for the third time as you look at the problem you need to solve for your hydraulics subject. You feel overwhelmed, so you decide to close your book and stand up. "This won’t do. I need caffeine."
You walk to the cafeteria, buy what you need, and sit at the nearest table when someone places a piece of bread in front of you.
"Hello. Miss me?" You sigh, then look at the man who sits across from you.
"I’d rather swim than see you," you joke because you hate swimming.
"Aww, I missed you too." He smiles, then takes your coffee and sips, leaving the cup half empty.
Jeongin has been your best friend since high school. Now in college, where you take different courses, you rarely see each other. He’s studying architecture, and you’re in civil engineering. Neither of you is in your dream course, but you took it anyway.
"How’s life?" he asks after you both rant about that one instructor you share—the one who doesn’t teach well but gives hard quizzes anyway.
"Better until I saw you."
He squints his eyes and rolls them. "I think you’ll see me more often. My girlfriend is in your department."
You stop sipping your drink at his words but then pretend it doesn’t affect you.
You’ve had a long-time crush on this best friend of yours. I mean, who wouldn’t? He’s handsome and cute at the same time. He knows you better than anyone else in this world and is always there for you in hard times. Tell me, who wouldn’t?
But you tried to suppress it when you realized he’s a gentleman to everyone, not just you. He’s like that to anybody, and you’re not that special. Well, you are his best friend, but that doesn’t differ from how he treats his other female friends. He’s just that kind of potato to everybody.
"Who? Why didn’t you tell me?" You put on an upset face.
"Well, you’re busy. Every time I go there, I see you spacing out, so I can’t tell you."
"Well, that explains it." You try to act calm, but honestly, you’re just as hurt as if you were pricked by a tiny splinter that goes deeper into your skin until it swells. It hurts like hell, but you’re afraid to tell anyone—they might say you’re overreacting. It’s just a small wound.
"Are you angry?" Jeongin suddenly feels uneasy. He knows you well.
"Nothing. I’m just tired, but you drank my coffee, you prick."
He laughs in relief. "Don’t worry, I’ll buy you another." Then he stands up. You’re about to say it’s okay, but you feel too weak to do so and let him do what he wants.
He comes back with the same coffee and two cupcakes—your favorites: strawberry and chocolate.
"Here, our future engineer. Keep fighting!" He places them in front of you, cheering you up. You can’t help but smile. You seek comfort from him. You stay there until who knows when, talking and catching up until you run out of things to say.
You return to your study area, feeling like the burden you were carrying is now gone. You pick up your pen and answer your problems quietly.
-
You step out of your classroom, feeling happy. Your long quiz is finally finished. You’re not sure about your answers, but at least it’s done, and now you can rest!
"Ohoy there!"
You look toward the end of the hallway you’re walking down and see Jeongin with a tube slung over his back (probably his plates).
You smiled. "What are you doing here? Aren't you busy?"
"I was busy, but I need to look for my inspiration. Have you seen her?" Jeongin's eyes twinkled as he teased, but you knew he meant his girlfriend. The words made your heart sink, but you played along.
"She's inside taking the exam. You should be quiet and let her take it in peace," you replied, trying to keep your tone light.
Jeongin chuckled, leaning against the wall next to you. "How's the quiz? Did you ace it?"
"Finished, at least. Whether I aced it is a different story," you said with a small laugh. "But I'm just glad it's over."
"That's the spirit!" Jeongin gave you a gentle nudge with his elbow. "How about we celebrate? Let's go to that ramen shop we used to visit in high school. My treat."
The suggestion brought a rush of memories—late-night study sessions, bowls of steaming ramen, and laughter that echoed through the small, cozy shop. It was your place, your little refuge from the world. But now, the idea of going there with him, with her, made you hesitate.
You forced a smile and nodded. "Sure, sounds good."
Later that evening, the three of you sat around a familiar table at the ramen shop. The comforting aroma of broth filled the air, but the atmosphere was different, heavier.
Jeongin's girlfriend sat close to him, her arm looped through his as she leaned in, talking softly. You tried to focus on your ramen, stirring the noodles absentmindedly. Jeongin noticed and, without a word, pushed a small bowl toward you.
"I asked them to leave out the vegetables and tone down the spice," he said, his voice warm with familiarity. "Just how you like it."
"Thanks," you murmured, trying to ignore the way his girlfriend's eyes narrowed at the gesture.
Throughout the meal, she grew increasingly clingy, touching his arm, laughing louder at his jokes, as if marking her territory. You felt smaller with each passing second, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you.
"I need to go to the restroom," you suddenly announced, standing up before either of them could react. You needed air, needed space away from the suffocating tension.
In the restroom, you stared at your reflection, trying to compose yourself. But the tears came anyway, hot and uncontrollable. It was too much—pretending you were okay, pretending you could just be his friend when every moment with him reminded you of what you couldn't have.
You cried until you couldn't anymore, until the mirror showed a person you barely recognized, someone worn out from hiding too much. Wiping your eyes, you took a deep breath and made a decision. You needed to set boundaries, for your own sake. Jeongin had a girlfriend, and you had to let go of the feelings that were tearing you apart.
The next few days were hard. You avoided Jeongin, making excuses whenever he tried to hang out. You buried yourself in your studies, in anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But Jeongin noticed. Of course, he did.
One day, he cornered you outside your classroom, his expression serious. "You've been avoiding me."
You sighed, unable to meet his eyes. "I’ve just been busy, Jeongin. You know how it is."
"Bullshit," he said, his voice unusually sharp. "You’re not just busy. Something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me."
"Why does it matter?" you snapped, finally looking at him. "You have a girlfriend now. Go focus on her."
Jeongin blinked, taken aback by your sudden outburst. "Is that what this is about? You think I don’t care about you just because I’m dating someone?"
You shook your head, tears threatening to spill again. "No, it’s not that. It’s just… I need space, okay? I need to figure things out."
"Figure what out?" His voice softened, and he took a step closer, his hand reaching out to you.
You stepped back, shaking your head again. "I can’t do this, Jeongin. I can’t keep pretending that I’m fine when I’m not."
The silence between you was deafening. He looked at you, his brows furrowed in confusion, and maybe something else. You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You turned and walked away, leaving him standing there, alone and confused.
Days turned into weeks, and the distance between you and Jeongin grew. You tried to move on, focusing on your studies and pushing your feelings aside. But every time you saw him, your heart ached, a constant reminder of what you’d lost—not just the chance to be with him, but the friendship you had cherished.
Jeongin, on the other hand, became more and more withdrawn. His girlfriend noticed, of course, and their relationship began to strain under the weight of his unresolved feelings. He missed you, more than he thought possible, and the longer he went without seeing you, the more he realized something that terrified him.
He liked you. He always had, but he had been too blind to see it, too caught up in the idea of finding the perfect girl that he overlooked the one who had been there all along. The one who knew him better than anyone, who made him laugh, who made him feel at home.
And now, he was losing you.
It was a rainy afternoon when Jeongin finally found you in the library, your nose buried in a textbook. You didn’t notice him at first, too engrossed in your reading. But when he sat down across from you, you looked up, surprised.
"Jeongin, what are you—"
"I broke up with her," he blurted out, cutting you off. His eyes were intense, filled with a determination that you hadn’t seen before.
You blinked, taken aback. "What? Why?"
"Because she’s not you," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "Because I’ve been looking for something, someone, who was right in front of me the whole time. And I was too stupid to see it."
Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of hope and fear swirling inside you. "Jeongin, you don’t know what you’re saying…"
"I do," he insisted, leaning forward. "I know exactly what I’m saying. I like you. I like you so much that it hurts, and I can’t stand the thought of losing you because I was too scared to admit it."
Tears welled up in your eyes, but this time, they were tears of relief, of joy. You had been holding onto this hope for so long, and now, it was finally happening.
"I like you too," you whispered, your voice trembling.
Jeongin smiled, that familiar, boyish smile that you had fallen for all those years ago. "So, what do you say? Should we give this a shot?"
You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. He reached out, taking your hand in his, and just like that, the distance that had grown between you disappeared. It wasn’t going to be easy, but for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything was going to be okay.
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fatuismooches · 1 year ago
Text
fabulam diu oblitus - first interlude.
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synopsis: The tale of the raven and the sparrow has long been forgotten by most, but some will always remember.
includes: dottore w/ gn! reader
notes: This is the second part of a multi-chaptered Dottore fic, please read the prelude before reading this one. Your and Dottore's life continues to be told via a fairy tale crafted by the one and only Dendro Archon. Mostly fluff this chapter but the last two will not be so nice. Obligatory @kaixserzz mention and all my anons who inspired me to write this! (🎐 anon <3)
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prelude. first interlude. second interlude. postlude. sequel.
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“But one day, a miracle happened. The bird woke up from their eternal rest, utterly confused and lost.”
When you woke up, everything was hazy. Your eyes were open, but you couldn’t see anything. Rather, you could not process what you were seeing. It was a strange state. Everything felt fuzzy… but then the light from above glared suddenly right into your eyes, and you instinctively moved your hand to block the blinding light.
You were wide awake now, blinking your eyes and rubbing them. And though you had just woken up from a good nap, you quickly realized nothing made sense. Everything was eerily quiet, to the point where you could hear a pin drop. The grand and expensive room, the large plush bed. This wasn’t the hospital! And it looked absolutely nothing like the Akademiya either, not even the architecture! When you moved to stretch your arms, that’s when the biggest discovery finally hit you. 
Attached to your arms was an alarming amount of wires, hooked up to machines and whatnot.
Okay… now you had gone from mildly confused to kind of scared. You weren’t dead, right? Nope, pinching yourself still hurts. And- ouch, the random sharp pains you suddenly got in parts of your body were most definitely real. And these clothes, they weren’t yours, but they looked like something you’d wear. But… why were you like this? And more importantly, where was Zandik? You remember your beloved quite clearly… you were waiting for him to visit you again… hmm. And for some reason, you felt… a lot better than what you remembered? You felt super tired in that hospital, but now, you think you got a bit better. That was weird. But anyway, you had bigger issues. It was even weirder how you were no longer in that drab, busy hospital.
There was no other option than to go find Zandik and learn where you were. However, you had to get rid of these wires first. Without putting too much thought into it, you pulled one off your arm.
Horrible idea.
Before you could even blink, a loud alarm suddenly started blaring inside the room, scaring the shit out of you. What the hell? As any frenzied person would do, you began to pull off even more wires from your arm rapidly before finally all of them were off. The alarm merely kept going off which was obviously quite disturbing to you. Were people going to burst through the door at any moment and incapacitate you again? Wait, were you kidnapped? Oh, you just wanted Zandik to be with you right now, you thought as you pulled the heavy blankets off your body. Surely he’d know what to do. And then the door to the room slammed open, immediately beckoning your attention as you snapped your neck to see who it was. 
And lo and behold, it was Zandik. 
Your Zandik, draped in the Akademiya’s robes. Those red eyes and blue hair that you loved. Suddenly you could forget about your current abnormal situation and block out the noise, solely focused on your heart positively soaring as you gazed upon your love. 
But you quickly realized that he did not share the same expression. Not in the slightest. Rather, Zandik was looking at you with surprise, shock, astonishment, whatever you wanted to call it. It made you feel wholly uneasy. Why was your love looking at you as if you were from another universe? Like you had come back from the dead? Before you could question him, another person barreled in through the door. Another mop of blue hair. Another pair of red eyes. Another Zandik. 
Your heart stopped for a moment. 
Who were these people, and what have they done with your Zandik?
It only got worse when yet another Zandik look-alive entered. Only this time he was wearing bloodied clothing and gloves. You were too shocked to scream, and now all the other blue-haired people were panicking at your fearful expression and began fighting amongst themselves.
“Why would you come in looking like that?!”
“How was I supposed to know they had woken up?! It’s been centuries, I thought a wire detached by accident or something!” The one with the bloody coat and pink bow tie snapped back. The bickering continued but that was the least of your worries right now. You glanced around the room, trying to see if there was another escape route.
The windows. Yes, they would have to work. You didn’t know what floor you were on, but you’d have to take a gamble. You inched towards the end of the bed and swung your legs off the edge, hoping to bolt to it quickly. You placed one foot on the ground, putting all your force into it to sprint and-
Instead, your legs buckled and you fell pathetically to the floor, squeaking in a mixture of pain and surprise. You tried to heave yourself up with your arms, but your legs felt too weak. It was as if your legs wouldn’t, or perhaps couldn’t listen to your demands. You wiggled them around a bit, but it seemed as if they didn’t have enough strength to stand up on their own. You didn’t understand. Even though you were quite sick before, you could still walk a bit. This, however, was an unfamiliar sensation that filled you with dread. And now the Zandik clones’ attention was back on you.
“Oh fuck,” one of them mumbled, running his hands through his hair. You gulped, but they seemed reluctant to come near you judging from their nervous expressions. Well, you were going to take advantage of that, so you continued crawling toward the window. “Go get Prime. Now,” he hissed. A clone rushed out of the room but that was the least of your concerns. It was slightly humiliating to be watched as you crawled, but you persevered anyway. Thankfully, there was a table near the window, so you could use it to pull yourself up without using your legs too much. How were you going to escape with virtually no legs? Well, that was future [Name]’s problem. 
The clones, on the other hand, seemed incredibly antsy about your hand on the curtain, ready to pull it away. It seemed as if they were trying to speak but didn’t know how. But without any more delay, you yanked the curtain to the side to reveal…
A completely white background. Snow that certainly was more than knee deep, that clung to the windows and weighed the trees down. You had never seen anything like it before. The mere sight of it made you dizzy and a nauseating feeling came over you as you stumbled back and landed on the floor again. Wherever you were, it was not Sumeru. And even if you could escape, you would certainly freeze to death in a few seconds. The reality of the situation made your skin crawl and overheat. You looked back at the fake Zandiks and noticed they were a bit closer than before. Your rapidly beating heart was not a good combination for the major headache that was beginning to grow. 
“Don’t… don’t come near me,” your lightheadedness made the words come out more of a mumble than a command, your throat now dry and clogged. Not being able to defend yourself was a horrible feeling. Through your blurry eyes, you think the clones felt sorry for you… which really made you feel worse, to be honest, actually to the point of feeling like you were going to pass out from all of this stress and pain.
… And you did pass out. But not before a pair of hands caught you before your head hit the floor.
“Meanwhile, the raven could not contain his excitement. Finally, after four hundred years spent alone, his beloved was back. Despite all of the power and knowledge he basked in, he was admittedly… lonely without them. If the raven had never met them, he would have been fine. But the sparrow had relentlessly pecked a hole into his formerly impenetrable heart, one that they vowed to fill for eternity as an apology. But… they were not here to fill it for so long, creating an indescribable void in him.”
When one of his segments burst into his office without even knocking, Dottore was initially irritated. He did not like to be disturbed, especially in the middle of his own personal research. But 02 only had to say one word for his attitude to flip dramatically. Your name. He didn’t even wait for the clone to finish his sentence before he quickly made his way to your room, multiple possibilities running through his mind as to what could have happened. Surely it wasn’t possible for your condition to get even worse, right? He gritted his teeth and increased his pace until he saw the crowd at the door of your room. He didn’t bother questioning any of them as he stepped into the room, expecting to see your body still lying on the bed. But it was empty… because you were awake, wide-eyed, and a bit terrified, but awake nonetheless.
Even the wise doctor couldn’t help but be frozen in shock. Four hundred years of emptiness, of silence, of nothingness. A stagnant eternity had passed in front of his eyes. You had remained ever so still for so long, but now you finally were moving and speaking in front of him.
Would he call this a miracle? No, he would not because the scientist did not believe in miracles. He didn’t believe in anything that the Gods supposedly granted. He knew you would wake up, it was just a matter of when, and however long that was, he would wait. Contrary to what many people thought, Dottore could be a patient man. Perhaps it was because all of the people in the Fatui were witnesses to his short fuses and a low tolerance for inability, but he could be extremely patient with the proper circumstances. Now, all his waiting had finally paid off, Dottore thought as he caught you in his arms. Indeed… everything had finally paid off.
Dottore wondered how you would react when you woke up again. How much would you remember? Would you recognize him? He already had a multitude of notes and plans written for when you woke up, but it would depend all on you. You, you, you… yes, he would go to astonishingly and morally dubious lengths just for you.
“The butterfly had come to realize that their beloved raven had changed while they were sleeping. The raven had draped himself in fox fur, no longer the same from hundreds of years ago. The butterfly was not too bothered, as they were changed too, but they could not help but feel that they were left behind.”
When you woke up once again, the ceiling looked different and the bed you were in was much more plain and stiff than the previous one, as if no one used it. Though the out-of-place blanket and pillows looked as if someone threw them in out of consideration for you. You raised your hand to your temple and gently rubbed it. Somehow, your oncoming headache was gone, which was good. You began to observe the room. This one was a stark difference from the other one. It was mostly plain and boring, and much smaller. It literally only had this bed and a desk which was crowded with piles upon piles of paperwork, and you could faintly make out the writing. It was hard to read and bore a resemblance to… Zandik. Instantly your curiosity was piqued.
You don’t know what happened during the time you fainted, but somehow your legs seem to have gotten a bit stronger. In fact, there seemed to be a new bandage on your leg. Did someone inject you with something while you were sleeping…? You swallowed the unease before you hobbled over and quickly took a seat on the chair, eyes sweeping over the multitude of papers. You began reading the one on top.
“Experiment 23 has failed me once again with their utter uselessness. No matter how many times I modify the drug, their body keeps rejecting it leaving me only with a mess to clean up. What a pathetic waste of my time.” Alright, that was… something. You pushed that one to the side and began reading through more, but they were mainly the same gist. “Subject 14 died today. I must tell one of the segments to take care of it. Perhaps we can still get some use out of the body… A test subject attempted escape today. That was the first one in a while, but it was handled quickly.” More experimentation on different subjects, all labeled with a different number. It was no doubt horrifying but… oddly interesting to you. But one thing that stuck out to you was the name signed at the bottom.
Il Dottore. Il Dottore? What kind of name was that? You kept flipping through the papers, many falling to the floor when you noticed the desk also had some drawers. Pulling them open, there were a few notebooks inside. But that’s not what bothered you. It was the fact that each of them had one word on the cover.
Your name.
This day could not get any creepier. The theory of you getting kidnapped by some crazy person was starting to seem a lot more plausible. Though you hesitated at first, you just had to know what was inside, picking up the notebook on top. You flipped open to the first page. It had nothing but the same few words repeated over and over, divided by lines as the day changed. “No changes in [Name]’s condition.” Alright then… strange. Your eyes flicked over to the date written at the corner of the entry. Month, day, year, yes…
Wait. That year. Your eyes nearly popped out when you looked at it, for it simply could not be true. Because it was… extremely far into the future. A horrible feeling sank into you as you began rapidly turning the pages. Maybe it was just a mistake, you begged no one but yourself, but it was the same over and over again. And that’s when you got to the page that made you dizzy. “Today marks four hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” The sheer shock of that sentence could have made you faint again. 
Gulping, you grabbed the next notebook in the pile. The dates of these were before those of the first one. Yet again, one of the pages stated, “Today marks three hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” And then the next notebook said, “Today marks two hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.” The last journal in the pile ended with, “Today marks one hundred years since [Name] fell asleep.”
In that one, the first page started with, “Today marks the first day since [Name] fell asleep.” The date on this page was very familiar to you. It was the year when you got sick. Trying to calm your unsteady breaths, you read the writing.
“I would have never thought things would have turned out like this. This possibility is one that I never thought of. That was completely foolish of me. I should have been more practical, more realistic. If I had planned for and acknowledged the possibility, perhaps I would have been able to prevent it. But it is too late now. I will write here every day to keep track of [Name]’s condition. If all goes accordingly, they will wake up in due time.”
You placed down the book and put your face in your hands, contemplating what you just read. So… if you were understanding this correctly… you’ve been stuck in a coma for over four hundred years, only now waking up. And this person, it had to be Zandik. He was the only one who would do all of this for you. But that didn’t explain why there were multiple copies of him running around… Oh… but the fact you were asleep for four hundred years… was that even possible? Was this real? A wave of fatigue at this information rolled through you again.
Not only did you miss over four hundred years of life… that meant you weren’t exactly human, were you? Or perhaps you were and you simply had your lifespan increased? So, so many questions. What happened to Zandik during this time? What happened to you? Were you even okay? How had your body survived such a thing? You felt like crying. How could this happen to you… you were about to actually start weeping when the door opened, giving you a start.
Another Zandik - or perhaps this was Il Dottore - stood at the entrance, hand frozen on the doorknob as he looked straight at you. You instinctively backed into the chair. You couldn’t help but still be uneasy after everything you just went through.
“[Name],” your name spilled out of his lips almost unconsciously, his face still expressionless, but that quickly changed as he broke out into a large, pointy smile. “[Name],” he said again, though much louder this time before locking the door behind him. “[Name]... you’re truly awake.” The way he reveled in your name seemed almost mad and obsessed. The man then noticed the disarray of his desk and grinned even further, striding up to you.
“Ah, ever the inquisitive one, are you? Seems like your curiosity has not changed. And you can still read my notes… good, good. Better than what I expected.” Zandik’s(?) voice only grew more delighted. You remained silent, to which he looked slightly disappointed, but he seemed to have expected this reaction as well. He bent down on one knee, placing one hand on his chest while the other intertwined with your own hand. He didn’t externally show how he felt when he did so, the sheer excitement he felt when your hand was no longer deathly cold, instead some warmth running through it now.
“Do not look like that, [Name]. You know who I am, do you not?” The scholar looked up at you expectantly, the pleased smile never leaving his lips. His touch, though it was through gloves, was so familiar. The voice, that was deeper than how you remembered it, made you feel a certain way. Your free hand reached out to his face, fingers tracing the mask he wore. Slowly, you began to remove it to see if he would object, but he did not even flinch. When you looked at his uncovered face, you just knew deep down it was Zandik. It was your Zandik who belonged to you. Though his face now had scars, it was him. Your beloved. You brushed your fingers against the scarred skin, and this time he nuzzled into your touch as if you were some kind of divine being.
“Zandik… Oh Zandik,” you murmured, staring right into his brilliant red eyes. “It’s you, isn’t it?” Zandik moved your hands closer to his lips, before biting down on your fingers with those sharp teeth of his.
“Indeed I am, dearest, but these days they tend to call me The Doctor.”
After that, you wouldn’t let go of Zandik, or rather, Dottore, as he came to explain. He answered your barrage of questions, one by one, which only blew your mind each time. After you fell into a coma, he was recruited by the Fatui. With their funding and support, he was able to keep you stable and also advance his own research, even reaching the high position of the Second Harbinger. Il Dottore, The Doctor to be exact. And those other people you saw, those were his segments. Segments from different periods of his life that he made… You were stunned by those accomplishments.
For hundreds of years, this went on as you remained stagnant… until now. Now, everything had changed, and Dottore was entirely fascinated with you. He ran countless tests, poked and prodded at all parts of your body, all while dumping so many things on you rapidly and excitedly. A recollection of all the things that had happened during your slumber. There were a good amount of words that you didn’t understand too… the language of Teyvat had surely changed a lot. It was quite reminiscent of the old days when he would keep you awake in the dorm with his rambling, but this felt oddly… different.
Dottore was a completely different person from the Zandik you knew. Though the old Zandik wasn’t a good person, Dottore was… different. Very different. There was no boundary he wouldn’t cross for his research, ignoring the laws of Teyvat and life itself. And he was wearing a fucking harness too… but… he did look quite attractive in it so… it was an upgrade for you. Though what really happened while you were asleep? He was different, so so different - powerful and intelligent enough to rival even the Gods, among numerous other feats. It felt like he was a completely different person.
Meanwhile, you felt as though you were stuck as that useless, weak student whose purpose was dwindling by the day. And that wasn’t really a lie to be honest, as you soon learned you still were quite ill. You had only woken up from a coma. You weren’t cured. Your body was still frail and fragile, needing medicine and lots of rest otherwise there would be consequences. And your legs, they were able to get a little bit better from the shot Dottore gave you that worked since you were no longer unconscious, but you still wobbled a lot. You still had a lot of pains in general from this mysterious illness as well. So all in all… conscious and alive, but not very well. But, you were still grateful. You had over four hundred years worth of life you missed out on… you wanted to catch up desperately.
Of course, there was also the number one desire to spend countless hours with Dottore now. And you had to get used to his new personality… No longer was he the snarky, snappy, and irritable boy you once knew. Now he was effortlessly cunning and charming, so above others as their opinions could not mean anything to one akin to a God. And while he had always been possessive, Dottore seemed to ramp it up out of nowhere. In a way, you understood, because if you had to be consciously separated from Dottore for that amount of time, you would have gone crazy a long time ago. 
You were possessive too, but Dottore somehow was much more comfortable with physical and verbal affection than his old self from over four hundred years ago. You remember you’d have to beg and plead to merely sit on his lap before, but on the first day you awoke, he hoisted you there and refused to let you leave. He nipped at your ear and sensitive spots teasingly with no hint of embarrassment, all within a few hours after you woke up as if he couldn’t wait another moment. His hands were so big and they seemed to know every part of your body, he seemed to know exactly what to say to push your buttons now, all so different from when the positions were reversed a while ago… Of course, you still knew him quite well too, but still, you felt as though maybe he was partially a stranger now… Only time would tell you how much he had changed. You just hoped you were still good enough for him.
“Over time, the raven had divided himself into numerous others, each with a unique personality. The butterfly was initially scared by these new creatures, but eventually, they warmed up to the new ravens.”
It had been only a few weeks since you’d woken up, and although Dottore presented you with your own grand room in the lab, you hadn’t touched it much. Who could blame you? You were still jittery and nervous about all the new things in this world, and how to adapt to your new life. So he had gotten used to you crashing on his bed now every day. No, he wasn’t upset in the slightest. After all, he still had a lot to talk to you about. It would probably take a few centuries to tell you every little thing that happened during the last few centuries.
Dottore had shown you so many new wonders of Teyvat, things that could have never existed centuries ago, in all subjects and areas. It made you feel a bit scared and almost disheartened to know the world changed so much in your absence. But… there were some people in the lab to help you.
Dottore’s segments. 
You had learned that the numbers went up to 24, but there weren’t actually 24 segments. They were numbered in the order of creation, and not all of Zandik’s created segments were successes so it jumped around at times. For example, there were no 11, 12, 17, and so on. Even with all of Dottore’s expertise in making clones, he didn’t guarantee success. And yes… their names were merely numbers.
Although the segments hadn’t hurt you in any way, you were still a bit… scared. Hearing that your lover now had copies of himself running about was one thing. Accepting it was another thing, and you tried to cling to your Zandik as much as possible. But the clones were always scattered throughout the laboratory, so you usually ended up bumping into them. Or perhaps they were following you on Dottore’s orders. He probably thought it wasn’t safe for you ever to be alone, especially right now. But you were trying your best to warm up to them, because, after all, they were still Zandik, no? Their love for you stemmed from Zandik’s overwhelming love for you. They were really a testament to how much you were cherished. And so, they were obviously worthy of your love and attention. 
01 was the spitting image of Zandik when he was in the Akademiya. The last person you’d seen before you fell into a long sleep. Every time you looked at him, your heart hurt a little bit. He still had that snark you remembered so well, especially towards other people. And he still had that subtle softness afforded only to you, that you also remembered.
The bloody one who gave you a fright was 02. He had a pink bow tie and also donned a suit. You honestly weren’t sure what kind of phase Zandik went through during that stage of life to dress and act so drastically differently compared to his other clothes but it was… cute. You liked 02. He was a stark difference from the composed nature of the other clones, but you liked his laugh. Whenever you responded favorably to one of his long tangents, he sometimes hee-hee-ho-ho-ed loudly. 02 was also the most likely to bite you unprompted.
You had yet to meet 10, which was surprising because all the other segments were jumping at the opportunity to merely be in the same room as you. All Dottore had said was that he “needed some time” before he decided to speak to you. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you didn’t question it further. There were other segments as well, like 04. He was a serious and stern segment. The others were especially cautious around him. You were too, seeing his demeanor, but thankfully, he seemed to cool down around you. And 18 had a noticeably softer tone than the other segments and longer hair that embroidered his face nicely. He was also the one who seemed to smile a lot. This segment would always wave hi to you as well, funnily enough.
Meanwhile, 24 seemed to be the strongest of the segments and the highest-ranking one. The others didn’t seem to like him very much, but in the end, they always had to listen to him. He also seemed to be the boldest, and the most greedy. You distinctly remember your first meeting with him. It was something alright.
24 had raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, the smile on his face never leaving. “I have been waiting a long time to finally meet you, [Name].” Your words almost got stuck in your throat from the blatant display of affection. None of the other clones were ever so daring, instead settling with awkward conversation and fleeting glances of longingness at you. 
“Oh… well, it’s nice to meet you…?” You waited for his name.
“Twenty-Four.”
“Ah. Nice to meet you then, Twenty-Four.”
“No, the pleasure is all mine,” he hummed before releasing your hand. “If you ever need something, by all means, feel free to tell me. I shall see it done, far more efficiently than anyone else.” You ignored the subtle remark thrown at his other fellow segments.
“Thanks, Twenty-Four,” you smiled slightly, not sure what else to say after that.
“Of course. I do look forward to our further conversations, [Name]. I imagine they will be quite enlightening,” his deep voice chuckled as he walked away. Well… that was certainly something. You swallowed your throat that had gone dry, still feeling a bit fuzzy from that kiss. His lips felt soft against your hand.
Well, regardless of how you felt about the segments, you had to warm up quickly as they were starting to be with you for almost every task. Though Dottore had solely administered your medicine at first, you learned that his Fatui work kept him far more busy than you anticipated… he really was different now, huh? No longer the student you could bother all day. 
So instead, the clones had begun to share the responsibility of taking care of you, whether that be medicine, shots, check-ups, general tasks, or anything really. Nothing was off the table, considering how much you still struggled sometimes. You felt awkward at first, asking them for help, seeing as you felt embarrassed asking people who you didn’t know well, but they always seemed pleased to do it. Especially if you asked them specifically rather than another clone. So it would only be fair if you returned the energy to them.
You began with conversation. They reciprocated. You moved on to small touches. They liked that. You decided to give them each a kiss on the cheek. You probably should have thought some more about how that would affect them because there was no going back after that. Once you had shown so much interest, there was no way they weren’t going to take you up on your offer. Let’s just say it never ends with just one kiss. It ends with too much to count. So… nowadays it wasn’t unusual to find yourself on the operating table after a check-up, a segment on each side of you fighting over your attention. Perhaps one arm wrapped around your waist and another resting on your thigh… yes, very normal.
However, dealing with your health concerns wasn’t the only purpose of your beloved segments. They also had to teach you other things. 01 was on academics, as you would assume, him being the Akademiya clone and all. Well, it was less academics and more like relearning how to write properly and Teyvat’s new language. It was really hard, to be honest, to have your brain try and keep up with the sudden onslaught of new information, and for you to steady your hand from shaking so much, but surprisingly enough, 01 didn’t lose patience as quickly as you thought he would. You thought he would, considering how snappy you remember Zandik being in the Akademiya. 01 noticed your curious stare.
“What?”
“Nothing… I was just wondering why you haven’t said anything remotely snarky yet,” you hummed, leaning into the segment with squinted eyes. He rolled his eyes.
“You act as though you want me to yell.”
“Well…” you giggled at his incredulous expression before quickly retracting your statement. It was fun to tease him. And you already had a suspicion as to why he was so patient with you. That was… nice of him.
And 02… well, you weren’t exactly sure what 02 was supposed to be teaching you. He would just… talk a lot, about many different things, pace around the room as he did so, long coat fluttering after him, periodically fixing his bow tie. At the very least, he was quite knowledgeable and had experience journeying in other nations. Yes, that was what intrigued you the most out of all his rants. Especially when he spoke of his exploits in Mondstadt.
“You’re saying… you slayed a dragon? Like, killed it? It’s dead? All by yourself?”
“Indeed, I did. Though it’s a shame that-” Before 02 could finish his sentence, you could not help but jump up and clasp his hands in yours, beaming with excitement. Because really, how could you not be ecstatic at something like that? If one of Dottore’s clones could use such strength easily, it only further boggled your mind as to how strong Prime was.
“That is so, so, so amazing! I had no idea you were so strong!” Your eagerness to hear more was easily noticeable in your tone of voice. 02’s expression went blank for a few seconds, seemingly processing the sudden physical contact and how close you were to him, along with your words, before erupting into loud laughter, his very pointed teeth gleaming in the light. It suddenly occurred to the segment that this would be a perfect opportunity to unabashedly display his brilliance to you.
“Hahaha, if that story pleases you so, then you’ll be far more interested in what I have to say next. That was nothing really, hehe,” 02’s razor-sharp grin did not leave his face, nor did his hands release yours. Let’s just say 02 has a lot of tales to tell. Some were… not for the faint of heart, but you still loved them!
Though, all of the segments’ general duty was to help you regain what you’ve lost. Even the simplest things were not easy anymore. You had to come to terms that your stamina wasn’t the same. Yes, you even had to practice learning how to eat and cut up your food again. Your tongue had to adjust to the flavors of cuisine all over again. Deal with the suddenness of feeling very cold to suddenly hot. Shaking fingers and hands. You had to understand that you had stricter limits now, no longer being able to run or do certain tasks that would overexert yourself. Or sometimes you simply didn’t have the mental energy. Bathing, changing clothes, brushing your hair. Resolving yourself to get out of bed when you knew nothing you could do would amount to anything special. But… the segments helped you with everything. Every morning. Every night. And you were thankful for that.
So, all in all, your relationship with the clones was going pretty great! It's not like it couldn’t, considering how much they all adored you, to be honest. Yet, you still had not met the segment named 10. At first, it didn’t really cross your mind, but the more time you spent with the clones, the more you pondered about who the mysterious segment could be. When you asked 01, you were met with a scoff and eye roll. Hmm… guess they weren’t really a fan of him. However, your curiosities would be remedied soon enough, for there was a quiet knock on your room door a while later. 
It was so quiet as if the person was unsure about whether they wanted to knock or not. Was it one of the segments, trying to slack off work again to talk to you? You quickly opened the door and were met with… nobody. You furrowed your eyebrows before a timid voice sounded from below. 
You tilted your head down and there he was, a young child with blue hair and red eyes… that was startlingly similar to some people you knew… Then, everything seemed to click, and you instinctively knew who this mysterious child could be. It was 10. The one segment you hadn’t seen yet, the one Dottore told you not to worry about. Well, he was here now, but… that meant 10 was a clone of Zandik from when he was a child.
You were, quite frankly, shocked, because never did it cross your mind that Dottore would ever clone his child self. You couldn’t think of exactly what purpose that would serve, considering how the kid couldn’t do the same tasks his adult versions could. His perspective, perhaps? But you knew what happened to Dottore during his childhood. You clearly remember the night in the Akademiya when you told you. He didn’t want your pity, your sympathy, he spat. Despite his protests and attempts to push you away, his words were smothered when you held him close to your chest that night.
But nevertheless, it was time to put those feelings away for you must put your attention on the child in front of you, who was now fiddling with his clothes and fingers in silence. His eyes flicked back to you and the ground, his mouth opening to speak but closing it again before any words could escape, so you spoke first, crouching down to his height.
“Hello, little one. You must be Ten, am I right?” The boy perked up at the mention of his name.
“You know me?”
“Of course I do,” you smiled. “I’ve been eagerly waiting to meet you.” Those few words made 10’s face light up. It seemed like he enjoyed attention. But he still looked nervous. Based on what you knew, you guessed that he’d been hurt by adults and people in general far too much than he should have been, so he was wary about you for a while despite Dottore’s and the older segments’ adoration for you. Of course, you wanted to help him feel safe and reassured around you. And that would only happen by spending time with him.
“Would you like to come in? I have snacks we can share!” You gestured to the inside of your room, and the child looked intrigued, but still on the verge of indecision. “... And I can also read cool stories for you!” That was something kids liked, right? Well, it looked like you guessed right because 10’s whole expression changed as he nodded and suddenly invited himself into your room. It seemed like 10 wanted to trust you badly… and trust you he did.
10 was absolutely precious, more than words could describe. During the first few days, he was quiet, preferring to listen to you read the books he brought you. Sometimes you caught him looking at you, perhaps studying you. But once you continuously showed him kindness and love, the child transformed into a brand new person. He was glued to your side, and all the segments knew about it too. 10 always wanted to be near you. 10 liked the other segments, he really did, but you were the only one who was so nice to him. Ruffling his hair whenever he learned something new. Always indulging his silly little requests, drawing and coloring with him. Showing you his favorite hiding places around the lab. You were sad you couldn’t carry little 10 in your arms, but holding his hand as you two walked together was more than enough.
There was just something about 10 that was so endearing, that felt like he was healing your soul, even just a little bit. He was also extremely openly worried about you, scared that you would get winded over the simplest things. Which was a valid concern, but you reassured him you were stronger than it. It was quite sweet to see him run in front of you to open the doors for you like a gentleman, however. You also learned not to underestimate him, because 10 could truly give some of the most crushing hugs ever. In a loving way, of course. If only you didn’t need the ability to breathe, you’d let him hug you like that whenever. In other words, 10 was your baby.
But, in a way, it was strange to know that Dottore was once a child as simple as they come, although with his own eccentricities and curiosities. A child who did child things before he was deemed a monster. A child who just wanted to be held and reassured.
Regardless, lately, you've been thinking about something. Thinking about the segments’ names, to be exact. You really did love them, and so now you were starting to have an issue with calling them random numbers. They were clones, but they were still people to you… their identity was more than a number! Especially 10. You really did not want to refer to the sweet child as 10.
This had been resting on your mind for a few days and the segments noticed your contemplative expression. It was one of those days where you would just sit in the lab and watch them as they scurried about, doing their duties. It was interesting to watch. But you were caught in a daze more than normal when a voice snapped you out of your thoughts.
“Do tell me [Name], you seem to be in deep thought lately. What plagues your mind so?” It was 24, his deep voice resonating in your ears. It was then you realized all the other segments’ attention was on you too. Oops. Perhaps you were daydreaming too much.
“Oh… it’s nothing really,” you wondered if they would think your idea was stupid. After all, they didn’t seem to really care about being called a number.
“Nonsense,” 24 shook his head. “Speak your mind.” Well, here you go.
“How do you all feel about your name?” You asked, addressing the other segments as well. “About being called a number, I mean.” The segments looked at you a little strangely.
“I don’t really care,” one of them spoke.
“I care,” another huffed. “Why does Prime get to be called Prime while we’re nameless?”
“That’s a stupid question. It’s because he’s the creator, and we’re merely the segments.”
“It is annoying when someone mixes up our numbers and then something gets messed up with the operations. But nothing major.”
“Why do you ask, [Name]?”
“Well… I was thinking of not calling you guys numbers anymore. I just don’t like how it sounds, considering how much I know you all now, you know? I was just wondering if maybe I could give you all real names instead. But if everyone likes it the way it is now then that’s fine too.” When you finished speaking, the lab was uncharacteristically silent.
“Um… hello?” You chuckled awkwardly as you looked around to find the clones with blank looks on their faces before they all started speaking the same thing at once.
“I want the name.”
“I would like one as well.”
“Me too, dear [Name].”
“To think you would be the one to bestow me with a proper name. How fitting,” 24 smirked. Shit, even he was on board with this.
“Huh? Didn’t you all just say you didn’t care too much about it??” You could have laughed at the dramatic switch-up.
“I’ve changed my mind. Being called a number is actually quite a hindrance.” (That was mostly a lie, this segment didn’t want to admit he just wanted to own something that was given by you, and what bigger honor could be given by a name?)
“Indeed, having a real name would surely be beneficial for many reasons.” (The many reasons being that he could be happy that you gave him a new part of his identity.)
And now, all of a sudden, you had many pairs of eyes directed towards you, waiting expectantly, and you felt extremely unprepared now. What would you name them? For one, you really weren’t that good at names. And you didn’t want to name them something weird either. They were Dottore’s segments after all. It had to fit them… Think, [Name], think… think of something good right now or else you’ll disappoint these poor segments who look so pleased over a name. You then remembered a book you had skimmed through while practicing with 01, that held the letters of a certain alphabet. And suddenly, a brilliant idea popped into your head.
“I’ve got it!” You jumped up and exclaimed to the room. And then, with glee, you swung your hand and pointed it to 01. “From now on, you are no longer 01. You are Alpha.” Alpha blinked at your declaration. 
Then, you moved onto 02. “You, my dear, are Beta. And you,” your finger moving to every clone in the room. “you’re Gamma. Delta. Epsilon. Zeta.” The more you went on, the more they predicted what their name would be. “Eta. Theta. Iota. Sigma. Phi. And lastly, Omega.” You grinned pretty widely after that. That was pretty smart of you, wasn’t it?
“I see… using the letters of that alphabet also corresponds with the numbers that we were given… hehe, how clever,” Beta grinned to himself, enjoying the first few seconds of being Beta.
“And they are short and easy to remember,” Omega hummed. “Good, very good indeed, [Name].” Omega’s hands brushed your cheek, always the possessive one, while the other segments looked on in jealously. You cleared your throat.
“A-Anyways, make sure to tell everyone your new names!” And soon enough, everyone in the lab was aware of the replacement. Even Dottore, as you had made sure to tell him right after. Initially, he thought you were joking, but nope, you were one hundred percent serious. Alright then, he’d let you have your fun. He didn’t know you were this bored, to be honest. 
But it wasn’t until previously named 24 corrected him with only the word “Omega” when he referred to the segment as a number that he realized that you really did change all of their names. Well, Dottore didn’t care too much for names or numbers regarding them, it was all the same anyway, but he’s been letting you spend too much time with the clones… he’ll have to force you to sit on his lap for a while when he’s stuck doing paperwork. He’s the only one who should be the center of your attention.
There was still one last segment you had to name - your dearest 10. You were most excited to name the little boy, having wanted him to have a name to call his own the most. But, there was something that didn’t feel right. Sure, you could just give him another letter of the alphabet but 10’s one had to be… different. The child just had that much of a special place in your heart. And so you pondered and pondered until you came to a decision.
Zandy was the one who would quite literally run behind you and cling to your leg whenever another segment was near. Zandy was the one who would sit in your lap and ask you to read and explain big words to him. Zandy was the one who wouldn’t let go when he softly spoke about the nightmare he had with his hometown.
He was Zandy.
“Although the flightless butterfly found great company and love in Dottore and his segments, they still longed for the companionship of others. Thankfully, they managed to make a few friends - a friendly orange fox, a lovely white dove, and a sly snow leopard.”
There was no one that you loved and cared for more than Dottore. That was a fact that would never change no matter what he did or how much blood stained his hands or morals. His presence was one that brought comfort to you, which obviously would sound like a deranged lie to anyone else considering the kind of man Dottore was. But so be it. No one would ever understand your relationship.
But… it would also be a lie to say you didn’t long for the camaraderie of others. It had been a while since you woke up, and the urge to have a friend or two was much stronger than in the Akademiya. Perhaps the loneliness that came with your illness was getting to you. You knew you could tell anything to Dottore but… it would feel nice to have someone to chat with every now and then about mundane, funny things, to get your mind off other stuff, and not to bother your lover so often. It seemed luck would be on your side this time (how rare) because you got exactly what you wanted.
Childe was the first one who had found you first, and it was wholly a chance encounter.
You were simply going back to your room when suddenly a voice called out to you. (Speaking of, you began living in your own room instead of hogging Dottore’s one all the time. You liked it there, you really did… but it was too boring and bland, and your bed was way more comfy than the brick that was Dottore’s bed. And you were starting to adjust to life a lot more now.)
Regardless, the voice certainly wasn’t Dottore or the segments. Turning to look, it was the unfamiliar face of a blue-eyed ginger-haired man. Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.
Practically no one knew of you. The few Fatui assistants there who happened to come across you merely thought of you as another experiment, perhaps one he favored more than the rest. You didn’t talk to them, and they didn’t talk to you. Dottore’s order of others to leave you alone was understood as just another one of his cruel ways of isolating you.
Of course, this wasn’t his intention. If you want to talk to others, then you should do as you please (within reason… no one else shall be hogging your attention besides him.) He respects you. But at this point, it was simply far too risky. Even with the clones, it could be dangerous for you. And of course, not only as a scholar but your lover, he must take into account all possibilities. If there was the slightest chance you’d be hurt, he wouldn’t do it. So you were resolved to be lonely for a while.
Until now. The tall man continued walking towards you, donning a gray suit with a contrasting red mask and scarf, Hydro Vision hanging off his hip. His smile seemed friendly enough and he even raised a hand to greet you, but you were stuck with your hand on your doorknob.
“Hello, comrade. How are you doing?” He was awaiting a response but you were just stuck in the same blank expression, completely unmoving as you gaped at him.
“Are you alright?” He noticed and inquired. Oh dear. This was growing far too embarrassing for your liking. No one had ever prepared for you for what to say in these situations. Should you respond? Or leave? You decided to go with the former, opting to simply nod your head in confirmation. The ginger chuckled, playing it off as you were probably being intimidated by his Harbinger ranking, unbeknownst to him the fact you had no clue who he was.
“I was wondering if you knew the way to Dottore’s office? The segments gave me directions, but every time I come here, I always get lost. This lab is never easy to navigate,” he sighed, scratching his head. 
You raised an eyebrow at his comment. This hallway with your room was specifically hidden within the lab, woven deep between many twists and turns. You genuinely wondered how lost he had to be in order to find himself here. But more importantly, you were faced with the question of whether you should help this man or not. Surely it was okay, you were just giving him directions after all. You would be irrelevant in his mind soon enough. It wasn’t like you were craving some human interaction even though you were a bit scared of talking to people.
Decisively, you turned around and pointed forward. “Go down that way,” you began softly, “and then take two lefts, then a right, another left, then straight, and finally one more right.” You knew the way like the back of your hand, after all, you went there frequently when you were sad, happy, in pain, whatever. When you looked back, the man looked as if you had just spoken another language.
“...Thank you, comrade. Hopefully, I find it, then!” You smiled at him. He was pretty nice.
“Of course. It’s not as long of a walk as you think, too.” The man chuckled in response.
“Whatever distance is fine with me. I always welcome the extra training!” With that, he waved you goodbye and began walking in the direction you pointed him to. Ah, you didn’t ask him his name… but you probably wouldn’t see him again anyway. But he did have a Vision so he was probably fairly strong… oh well. When you were all comfy between your blankets you’d soon forget about it anyway. 
And you were right. You did forget about it once you were tucked in with a nice book to read. Until there was a knock on your door. You thought nothing of it, thinking it was a segment at your door for whatever reason. A snack perhaps. Or one of them snuck away from their duties to visit you. Or maybe even Dottore himself! Regardless, you opened your door without hesitation ready to greet them. Unfortunately for you, it was not a segment. It was not Dottore. It was the same ginger from before, standing at the entrance to your room, with that same smile except it was more apologetic this time.
“Hi there again. You see, I did follow the directions you gave me but I was unsuccessful. So I’m back here again,” the man laughed and rubbed his neck. “I was wondering if you could take me there yourself? You seem to know this place pretty well.”
Your throat went dry as you had to hide your incredulous expression. Seriously, what kind of person did he have to be to end up here not once, but twice? Though he didn’t seem to think anything of it, which was good. But it was then he took notice of the environment behind the doorway, a brief surprise flickering across his face.
“Wow, quite the room you have there.” His stature made it easy for him to peer into your room. Since there was not much for you to do with your illness, you had a lot of fun designing your room (which came out of the “Regrator’s paycheck” according to Dottore.) Your room was decorated and tailored to your preferences, whether that was posters on the wall or hanging lights, shelves lined with your special interests and hobbies. It was easily the most “normal” room in the lab like someone actually lived there. Quite unlike the clones’ room which was literally just a bed and desk. Zandik’s wasn’t much better, but you bought stuff from your room and left it in his in hopes of making it more comfy for him. Instinctively you closed the door further in.
“Maybe you should just go back and ask one of the segments,” you murmured, trying to escape the situation and inching the door closer and closer in.
“I could, but those guys would probably ignore me and give me the same directions again. They aren’t very fond of me.” Well, even you couldn’t really deny that. They didn’t really like anyone… besides you of course. “And then I would end up back here, bothering you again. And finding another agent to assist me would take even longer. And Dottore doesn’t like to be kept waiting, you know.” 
He did have a point… really, it wasn’t like you minded taking him, you were just worried about if it would have any consequences. But, when you finally got a good look at the ginger, for some reason, you didn’t feel like anything bad could possibly happen. Plus, it wasn’t like the segments had to know… maybe, just maybe, you could trust him and finally have a real human conversation with someone besides your lover and his segments. Before you could change your mind, you agreed to his proposal with newfound confidence. 
“Okay, follow me then.” Then you locked your door and the man began to follow you. Thankfully the dull-eyed man had no problem starting the conversation first.
“By the way, I don’t think I’ve got your name.”
“I’m… [Name].” For a brief second, you contemplated giving him a fake name but couldn’t think of anything good. “What is your name?” He raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“You don’t know me? I’m Tartaglia, one of the Fatui Harbingers. But you can just call me Childe.” Childe. Childe. That name sounded vaguely familiar. Childe… that was one of the guys Dottore always complained about.
“Oh, I think I’ve heard of you from Dottore.”
“Plenty of bad things, I assume. But I can promise you, I’m not as bad as he says.” You giggled a bit at that.
“Well, I’ll trust you on that.”
“But I am curious. You don’t seem like one of Dottore’s experiments.”
“Yes, I’m not.”
“So are you a Fatuus?”
“Well, I guess you can say that.” Does being Dottore’s lover make you a member of the Fatui by extension? 
“Most members of the Fatui know who the Harbingers are, you know.”
“Err, well, I’m one of his personal assistants,” you lied. “So I don’t know much about the organization itself, since he makes me stay here all the time. You know how he can be. Haha.” You didn’t know what kind of bullshit you were spewing but you just hoped it made some sense.
“Oh, you’re one of his assistants? I haven’t seen you around. I thought he goes through assistants like nothing.”
“Yeah, he does, but… I have special… skills that he likes.” You hoped that would be enough. Childe seemed to nod in understanding.
“Your clothing doesn’t seem to be one of an assistant, though.” He was referring to your casual and comfortable daily outfit.
“As I said, I am special. You know, I have privileges.” That wasn’t a flat-out lie, at least. Childe looked amused.
“How interesting.” And then the conversation moved elsewhere. Childe was still definitely a bit suspicious of you. You could tell by the way he looked at you. But he was a seemingly friendly and easygoing man. If he asked a question that you couldn’t answer, he steered the conversation elsewhere. He was a great conversationalist in general, allowing you to open up a bit despite having just met him. Childe spoke about many things, his training, some battles, his cooking (he even shared with you some new Sumerian recipes you never heard of!), and most interesting to you, the world beyond the lab. Time flew quickly and soon enough you two were outside of Dottore’s office. And you couldn’t help but admit, that was incredibly pleasant.
“Well, here we are, Childe. Dottore’s office.”
“Ah, you were right! That wasn’t as long as I thought. Thank you for your help, [Name]. I’ll go in now.” He sent you a final smile before turning around but you quickly interrupted.
“Oh! Um, by the way, it would be for the best if you kept the fact you met me a secret. Please.”
“Alright then, I will. No one will know.” You beamed in response.
“Thank you! Now, I guess… good luck with the meeting!” And then you two went your separate ways. 
You liked Childe. He was fun to talk to. And it seemed like your wish would be granted because the next week, there was a familiar knock at your door. It was Childe. Although he knew the way better now, he still wanted you to guide him “just in case.” And of course chat with you along the way. Perhaps the latter was the true purpose of his visits, but regardless, this was the start of a secret friendship between you and the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger. Childe’s visits to Dottore were sporadic and you couldn’t predict when he would come, so it was a nice surprise whenever he did come around. And no one, not even Dottore himself knew. You didn’t like keeping secrets from your beloved, but it was too good to stop. But of course, all secrets are revealed in the end…
You had once again fallen asleep in Dottore’s office, refusing to leave his side and actually sleep in a proper bed. So he was carrying you back to your room to tuck you in so you wouldn’t whine to him about cramps and sores later. You’d probably complain to him about how you wanted to stay with him but he was used to it.
Dottore didn’t need to worry about being seen as these hallways were specifically hidden and practically couldn’t be found unless you were perhaps looking for them. And no one would look for them as no one besides he and his segments knew of their existence. So Dottore took the time to gaze down at you as he walked. There you were, sound asleep without a care in the world. A part of him still found it amusing how knocked out you were in the arms of a person like him. Weren’t you even the least bit concerned about what he could do? (Of course, the answer was no, because you knew he would never hurt you.)
He continued to your room with an uncharacteristic softness that would almost appear disturbing to others. At last, he reached it, without any-
… Problems, is what Dottore would have liked to say, for at your door was the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger, hand about to knock but now frozen, the two Harbingers standing silent as they stared at each other, almost comedically unmoving. Childe immediately took note of how Dottore held you in his arms bridal style, your head nuzzled into his chest and arms bunched together there as well. The soft rises of your chest signaled that you were peacefully asleep in the Doctor’s arms. There were absolutely no signs of discomfort or fear as any normal person would have around the mad doctor.
Unconsciously, he gripped your body tighter. As much as Dottore would have liked to know why and how the fuck Childe managed to get here, and somehow want to knock on your room of all doors, he was absolutely beyond the point of questions. 
“Tartaglia.” From his tone only, Childe knew he had stumbled upon something he should not have seen. “Speak of this to anyone, and not even your title will save you.”
After that little encounter, when you woke up, Dottore confronted you about what happened, and immediately couldn’t help but spill everything that happened over the course of the past few months. When you looked up at his expressionless face, you were internally scared that he would be angry with you, the silence after your confession driving you crazy, but thankfully he wasn’t. The only thing he did was sigh at your pleading face and then thumb your cheek.
“Perhaps I’ve been too harsh on you. I do remember how you liked to talk to others back then,” he hummed, which was the complete opposite of his younger self. You buried your head in his chest and looked up at him with imploring eyes. 
“So can he come over again?” Of course, Dottore’s first instinct was to reject this proposal for he didn’t want that fool to be even six feet near you, but the helpless expression you were giving him made him waver.
“I shall… think about it.” That was enough for you as you kissed him on the cheek. “At least it wasn’t the Third or the Ninth. They would be insufferable.”
“Those are the other people you always complain about,” you giggled.
“Yes, but you needn’t think about them. They won’t be coming around here anytime soon.”
Unfortunately for Dottore, it was already too late.
A few days later, there was another knock at your room door. It was almost comical at this point, you thought when you saw a young woman with numerous white accessories and a man as tall as Dottore wearing an unreadable smile at your door. Hell, you should just host a sleepover at this point.
“Well, it seems that Childe didn’t lie after all. Now I know who Dottore spends my precious Mora on behind my back,” the smiling man seemed more amused than angry if anything. Oh, so this was the guy who funded Dottore…
“You know, it was quite a challenge to get here, dear [Name]~ It’s not that easy distracting so many segments.” The girl also seemed amused and giggly. Both of them had their eyes closed with only smiles… it was an odd combination that worked.
“Um… are you Miss. Columbina and Mr. Pantalone by any chance?” You managed to piece together the names and rankings by paying more attention to the segments’ rants. The two most “nosy and annoying” people that Dottore has the displeasure of working with, apparently.
“Why, did you hear that, Lone? They know our names already! Perhaps our dear Dottore has been talking about us more than we think,” Columbina laughed, treading her fingers through her long hair, to which Pantalone chuckled along.
“Indeed, though I wonder what kind of tales he has told this one. [Name], may we come in?” The banker tilted his slightly to the side, and you had no reason to refuse. You just hoped Dottore wouldn’t be too mad. (Poor him, his dear darling being corrupted by the likes of the Damslette and Regrator. Oh well.) 
Regardless, the three of you hit it off immediately. The conversation flowed naturally, a lot of it being stories of Dottore that you had no clue about. You were surprised by how naturally everything came. Of course, the two powerful people still largely had their guards up, but it was still… nice. Fun. Perhaps the Harbingers have a little more humanity in them than most people think.
Columbina found herself around you the most. You were surprised at first - she was the Third Harbinger - surely she had much more important things to be doing besides hanging out with you. But she always laughed airly, reassuring you. She had known Dottore for a long time, she said, but never knew about you. And she would like to learn more about her newfound friend. Especially to see the annoyed expression of The Doctor when she steals too much of your time. (She loved to irritate him.)
Pantalone valued your intelligence. For some reason, he began asking you for your opinion in matters, nothing confidential of course, but still, it was notable. You were no Dottore, but the difference was that you were always willing to assist, much unlike The Doctor and his segments. And, you were greatly helpful in deciphering the confusing words of the segments and Prime himself, so Pantalone ended up taking a strange liking to you. You weren’t sure if it was because you were useful to him and his endeavors, or if he just found you amusing, or if he genuinely thought of you as a friend or just probably just an acquaintance, but no matter the reason, it was… nice to be around him every now and then. So long as Dottore wasn’t there. Otherwise, the calmness would quickly become tense instead.
Childe too, was like a little brother to you. You didn’t know why you felt that way, but you just did. He was arguably the most “normal” out of all of them (as normal as a Fatui Harbinger could be) and he was just… pleasant to be around. He was knowledgeable in the more “ordinary” aspects of life, having his own family which he loved dearly. You liked that about him. It felt silly talking to Dottore about such simple things, but not with Childe.
At the end of the day, your friends made you happy. Whether it made Dottore and his segments happy, seeing these three idiots invade the lab more often than they liked, was something you already knew the answer to. But your lover wouldn’t do anything too harsh. Not when you looked so joyful from this. So perhaps this was a small price to pay, considering how miserable you looked in the beginning.
And really, you always would belong to him, after all. Nothing would ever come in between.
“Though not everyone liked the butterfly. In particular, there was a fierce cat that always seemed to swipe at them whenever the two met.”
The Balladeer was someone whom you were used to seeing in the lab every now and then. You didn’t really care much for him in all honesty, but he certainly had taken some kind of interest in you, at least enough to say some not-so-nice things to your face. The puppet had seen you with the clones, with the Doctor himself, and the adoring looks you sent to them… he was disgusted by the notion of love to say the least, especially between you two but… he was intrigued. Scaramouche wanted to at least have a glimpse into the person who would make the Doctor leave in the middle of his beloved experiments to check on.
What he found was nothing spectacular. You were so fragile, even frailer than the young child he met all those centuries ago. You were weak, so weak. In fact, even an insect would be harder to kill than you. Useless too, he thought, and it was as if you knew it too because he’d see you beg the clones to just give you something to do, something to occupy your hands and mind. And… he found the personality and looks of all humans to be unexceptional so that didn’t help your case either. Scaramouche was practically convinced you were nothing more than a source of amusement for the Doctor, the doting only a form of his usual cruel manipulation. Again, you didn’t care for his theories, but his voice did grate on your ears.
Though, this time, the Sixth Harbinger had caught you on a bad day. There was no particular reason why you were having a bad day. It was just one of those days, where everything seemed to bother you. Not to mention you felt your illness was acting up more than usual… going on a walk around the lab’s endless corridors always seemed to free your mind up though.
Though of course, you were accustomed to things not going your way.
“Well well, look who we have here. The Doctor’s little plaything,” Scaramouche mocked. Oh, it was just your luck. Out of all the deserted halls, he had to be in this one. You decided to try and simply ignore his words, yet in an instant, the Harbinger was in front of you.
“I really don’t see what he sees in you,” he narrowed his eyes at you. “What kind of amusement does he use you for?”
“... I would appreciate it if you left me alone.” Scaramouche scoffed in response.
“Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but the Doctor has no capacity for feelings or emotions. Anyone close to him will meet a nasty end. Do you really think you’re any different?” The Balladeer smirked.
“...” Normally you would just turn a blind eye, but you were just so annoyed with everything today.
“What’s wrong? You’re usually so lively and talkative-”
“Look,” you finally interrupted, “just because you’re pissed with the world doesn’t mean you have to bother me with your delusions,” you snapped, fed up with his bickering with you. Hell, your life was no sparkles or rainbows but you didn’t go around making everyone miserable because of it. “At least my lover didn’t abandon me for crying, unlike someone else’s mommy.” It was only after the words had come out of your mouth that you realized what you said.
For a few seconds, there was a tense silence in the corridor. The expression on the puppet’s face made you stiffen. Oh fuck.
“How dare you, you insignificant-” Before the Balladeer could hurl any more insults at you, a stern voice interrupted him.
“I suggest you speak to them in a more respectful tone, Scaramouche.” The sudden intrusion made both you and Scaramouche jump. Neither of you had sensed the Doctor’s presence, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere as he loomed over Scaramouche. “Any further language will not be tolerated.”
For a split second, Scaramouche froze but quickly regained his usual demeanor, his ever-present scowl and balled fists returning. “Whatever,” he flipped around mumbling some more curses under his breath, the back of his hat swaying with every movement. In no time, it was just you and Dottore in the hallway, and he was staring right at you.
“How long?”
“Well-” you were going to try and blow it off as nothing important but the look he was giving you made you realize that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. “A w-while now,” you admitted. Dottore was silent for a few moments before he spoke.
“He will be dealt with accordingly,” Dottore promised as he cupped your cheek.
“...Okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. You knew that this wasn’t exactly right. You knew that later today you’d hear the screams of the puppet echoing throughout the lab. But as the warmth of Dottore’s hand permeated your cold skin, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.
“The butterfly’s life seemed to be going well. A partner who loved them along with multiple segments. Friends who spent time with them. But in reality, life was much harder and dim for them than they outwardly showed sometimes. In fact, the butterfly found themselves plagued by dreams. They weren’t nightmares, but when they woke up, it certainly felt like one. Or when they did have genuine nightmares, they felt the same unease and wept about their unfortunate situation.”
Ah. Nahida was at this part of the tale. Though she would always disapprove and be the enemy of you and the Doctor, the kind God couldn’t help but feel a little bit of sympathy for you. In all of her wisdom, even she had no information of your illness. Not to mention your loneliness… she too, was lonely once, when she was trapped all by herself in the Sanctuary. But at the very least, she was able to visit others through dreams.
You, on the other hand, had no such escape. Trapped forever in your own body, with not much to be done… your own dreams serving as torment instead… how tragic, Nahida admits. But nonetheless, the Dendro Archon gets herself ready to continue the fairy tale she’s crafted.
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actually-safer-to-kiss · 9 months ago
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Confesser
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Summary: Spencer is a criminology professor, and Reader is a French professor. Separate focuses managed to get tangled together once, which makes Reader even more suspicious when he stops by her office on Valentine’s Day.
Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader
Category: Light flangst
Content warnings: Slap
Word count: 1.7k
A/N: a little last-minute Valentine scenario
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The bulb in your desk lamp flickered, as if it was begging for you to call it a night. You've been working late nights at the office recently, not only to help your students before midterms but also to keep your mind at bay from the lingering anguish.
There’s nothing wrong with being alone on Valentine’s Day. It’s been the case for you for years now. Solitude has been your most consistent and prosperous state. It’s how you earned your place as tenure after just five years at Marbury University (Go Cardinals). A job for life. Many people aren’t lucky to have that like you are. So you can’t stop now and get comfortable. Your students love you, and over the years have advocated this position for you. Stopping now would be nothing but a disservice to them.
If only you hadn’t been so stupid your fourth year here (and the first half of your fifth), then the feelings you get when in Jefferson Hall might be less painful. You were stupid enough to believe that the number one workplace rule didn’t apply to you.
Don’t fuck your coworkers.
Perhaps you thought your achievements from back to back earned you a place of immunity in that pool. Well, Dr. Spencer Reid was happy to prove you wrong there. Things like that can always risk being casual, unrequited, awkward. And you were stupid enough to go back more than once, and sully the place and position you rightfully earned.
Spencer first noticed you speaking to some of your students outside the hall. When approaching, he spoke in French, assuming you were a foreign exchange student. But when you turned to face him, he saw your staff badge, and put the pieces together quickly. It’s not too far off of an assumption, as most people think you’re French when they see how easily the language and history flows from you. You applauded his French (both pronunciation and accent) regardless.
That meeting turned into a coffee date. Coffee turned to grabbing lunch, then grading papers together, moral support to keep one another going. That quickly trickled into a friendship as you learned about Spencer’s specialties, multiple degrees, and current employment at the BAU in Quantico. You’ve both been to France for pleasure and to study. One was coincidentally in the same year as each other, where you both visited the city of Orléans. The rich architecture and vast history as far back as the Merovingian era made you both agree you prefer it over Paris any day.
Those days were during your fourth year. And it was just over a year of friendship where you made the mistake of agreeing to a drink after work.
The bulb flickers, as if to mock those memories or distract you from going too deep. Does it really matter? Spencer made it clear it was a mistake. None of it was meant to happen — the kiss, the confession, the sex. And with your shared brilliance mixed with two vodka sodas, you both unraveled what used to be a genuine friendship, a trusting relationship among coworkers. You cut your desk lamp off with a click, muttering to yourself as you collect your bag and some books. It’s a good enough sign to call it a night and head home. At the very least, you could spoil yourself with a nice bath and some wine. You question if you should grab a bottle on the way home or use what you’ve got stashed.
Your keys rattle in the door as you lock up your office, and you jerk on the doorknob for the sake of double checking. Spencer told you most break-ins occur because people fail to check the locks in their homes or cars before leaving. You don’t know how many of your students or fellow professors in the Language Department would be eager to bust into your office, unless they need some spicy ancient French poetry or books on Rococo architecture. No issues of the sort have arisen yet.
That is until you spot him at the end of the hall, drenched in fluorescent lighting and paused as if you caught him in the act. Of what, you didn’t know. It’s not like Spencer was short on French books or books in French. You hesitated to speak, questioning if it was even worth speaking a word to him. Regardless of the fact that you have to go his direction to get to your car.
Of course you caved. “Spencer.” You tried to not make your gulp so audible.
He just stood there awkwardly, like this wasn’t as much his fault as it was yours. Like you were in his way.
You scoff. Seeing him there, just feet away, it’s a cruel feeling blooming in your chest. The idea that maybe it isn’t too late. Maybe he’s here to confess what he really feels. On Valentine’s Day, no less. A bit of a cliché, but you’re not in a position to be too picky about how you might make up. If that’s even what’s happening.
With reluctance, you walk toward him. “I’m heading home for the night,” you say. “Are you parked out front too?” It pains to ask as if this is all casual. It feels like your heart’s about to burst or crush because he’s not saying a word as you approach him. Not until you actually approach him.
“Hi,” he meekly says. He looks pale. He looks sick with worry. If you were more concerned, you would feel inclined to ask about it.
You try to avoid sighing too loudly. You need the air. Since the bar (and everything after that), you two haven't been this close. “Do you want to walk out to the parking lot?”
Spencer shakes his head. “I, uh, I got you something.” He digs around in his satchel and pulls out a frame delicately. Like it was an old piece of art. Spencer hands it to you.
It’s not an old piece of art. It’s an old piece of poetry. Two of them in a single frame.
“They’re not the originals. But I have a friend in Germany who knows a guy in France who could exchange some pretty old copies.”
You stared at the pieces. Gawked is likely the more accurate word. They were definitely old copies. It was all handwritten and translated to Middle English.
You looked up at Spencer. “Charles d’Orléans?”
Spencer nodded, lips pressed together in a boyish, nervous smile.
You were so stunned by the decoration of the parchment, the distinct age of the pieces (well before the revolution), you almost forgot to ask, “Why are you giving this to me?”
“Had some spares around the apartment. Figured you’d appreciate them more than me.” He chuckled.
You turned your head and narrowed your eyes.
And you saw Spencer’s audible gulp. Much more audible than yours earlier (yes!). “Read it.”
You scan over the parchment, translating in your head:
Let men and women on Love’s party
Choose their St. Valentine this year!
I remain alone, comfort stole from me
On the hard bed of painful thought.
As he is well this day has caught
A Valentine that loves him, as I guess,
Whereas this comfort me here alone
Upon my bed so hard of painful thought.
You looked back up at Spencer, hoping this time he’ll put some more context behind the words instead of leaving you to fill in the blanks (again). You waited.
“I’m sorry about what I said. Or I guess… the way I said it. Maybe both. Both is probably the safer option to go with. The point is that I’m genuinely sorry. I didn’t mean what I said.”
You didn’t know what to do with the poems. It is instinct to keep them close to your chest like a book, but (like with you and Spencer) you’re afraid of ruining them. Somehow cracking it or damaging them. Firmly held in your hands, you are hyper-aware of its value. You also try not to let your emotions take a grip for the sake of your pieces. “You said it was a mistake.”
“It was a mistake that we went that far in one night. That’s… not who I am.”
You quirked a brow.
“That’s not who I usually am. I went too far in every way, and I’m sorry.”
You clamped your lips closed, looking around like students were present, ready to eavesdrop and gossip later. If your favorites were here, they would beg you to dish it all out over lunch. But no one was here. It was just you and Spencer (and Charles, kind of). “But what if my feelings were genuine?”
“I-I assumed they were. And I hurt them, and I’m sorry. I understand if I blew it and you may want to forget those feelings now, which is completely understandable. I destroyed it all in one night. And I can’t hold your hands right now, but I want to, and just say that you’re very important to me. And I miss you being around. And, uh, whatever context that might be, I hope we can be around each other again. A-at some point in the future.”
You sighed. It was heavy but concentrated. You needed a fresh breath of air. Spencer had the look of a sad puppy. It’s the way he looked whenever he was worried. How could you kick a sad puppy when he’s already down?
Well, you didn’t. You slapped him.
And he instantly reached for his cheek, already burning red.
“That’s for hurting me.”
Spencer nodded, not objecting to that part.
You then took that same cheek and pulled him closer, locking his lips with yours. And you both inhale deeply upon recognizing the contact. You’re hesitant about getting closer, given Charles is between you. “That’s me forgiving you.”
Spencer’s eyes crinkled as he held your face, but he didn’t initiate a kiss. The nerves in his fingers show he was hesitant to touch you so suddenly. He wasn’t messing this up again. “Can I walk you to your car?”
This time, it’s you who doesn’t hesitate. You hold the frame in one arm, cradling it like a baby. And you reach for Spencer’s hand as you walk out of Jefferson Hall.
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lady0ctavia · 1 month ago
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What They'd Do for a First Date (Axis, Allies, & Nordics)
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Something very quick because I just really wanted to get this idea out there. Also, I'm spending more and more time on my 2p!Prussia x Reader fic, but I wanted to make sure the rest of y'all are being fed.
So here are my headcanons on where I think a large chunk of the Hetalia boys would do for a first date!
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Italy: While Feliciano's down for pretty much anything, he'd want to make sure the first date is something special. As such, he'd plan a nice, romantic dinner for the two of you where he cooks the food.
Germany: Ludwig would want to have the date at his house where you'd bake something together. He'd rather make either cake or bread. But he'd be open to hearing your ideas on what the two of you can bake.
Japan: I can see Kiku taking you to a painting class. Nothing super fancy or advanced, but something small, simple, and fun. Something where the two of you can delve into your creative side.
Prussia: Gilbert would 100% take you to the movies. He'd be down for seeing whatever you wanted to see, though he's more partial to action/adventure films. However, he wouldn't be opposed to horror, as he likes the idea of you getting scared and holding onto him.
Romano: Lovino will take you on a long walk around Rome sightseeing. He'd be pointing out every last bit of architecture you see and would recite a full history of everything. He's also the kind of guy to wanna take you on a boat ride.
America: Two words; amusement park. Alfred will absolutely take you to an amusement park or a state fair where you'd eat all kinds of fried foods, go on all of the rides, and, if it's a state fair, take you to the petting zoo. He'd also stress over planning the perfect kiss at the top of the Ferris wheel where the two of you'd watch the fireworks.
England: A first date with Arthur would be at a bookstore similar to that of Barnes and Noble. He'd want to look at different books with you and then chat about them over a cup of tea at an adjoining cafe.
France: I know it's kinda cliche at this point, but Francis would bring you to a fancy restaurant for a romantic, candle-lit dinner. Preferably in an area of the restaurant that is somewhat secluded. Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it!
Russia: Ivan would simply want to go for a walk. Nothing big and fancy. He's perfectly content with something quiet and simple. He'd want to just stroll around town and chat about any of your shared likes or hobbies.
China: Maybe this is a little funny, seeing as he's so old, but Yao would take you to a museum. Mainly to constantly fact-check the workers there, as well as the displays. Especially if it's a Chinese museum. He's been around for 4000+ years, honey. He knows more than the people who work there.
Canada: Okay, this can go one of two ways. Matthieu would either take you on a nature walk through the beautiful Canadian woods, or he'd take you to a hockey game. Either way, the night will end with the two of you going in for a kiss, only to get interrupted by Mr. Kumajiro.
Denmark: I know this is gonna sound ridiculous, but Mathias would absolutely take you to the Lego Store. There is no way you can convince me that this man doesn't love Legos. He'd get cute little minifigures made of the two of you.
Sweden: I can see Berwald either being content with sitting at home and drinking hot cocoa, going to a musical performance of some kind, or, dare I say it, going to an IKEA and talking about what pieces of furniture would look the best in his or your living room.
Norway: Lukas would take you out into the woods late in the evening for the two of you to stargaze. He'd point out different constellations and tell you the stories behind them.
Finland: Alright, we all know Tino's a cutie, but don't let that adorable face deceive you. A first date with this man will either end up with him taking you to a heavy metal concert, or taking you out sharpshooting.
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g1rld1ary · 6 months ago
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lifeguard!james x reader 3
wc: 1384
cw: horny.
the next time you saw james was early in the morning. you were on a run, trying to get it in before the sun reached full strength and it became awful to even move, so most of your town wasn't awake yet. you ran through the streets, legs burning and lungs heaving as you focused on the good parts of the experience. the emptiness of the streets let you admire the old buildings -- maybe worse for wear but still architecturally beautiful. the smell of bread filled the air from one of the nearby bakeries, so far untouched by the stench of petrol usually pervading the main street. you waved at one of the bakers arranging the display cabinet in the window, the father of someone you went to school with.
the joy of the morning had distracted you from the pain of running, but when you reached the site of a public drink tap you realised how much your legs ached, tired pain shooting out from the knees. you'd run a bit further than you normally would have caught up in your daydreams, so you took a break for a drink and to stretch out the soreness in your legs, pulling your cap off to wipe the sweat from your brow. you glanced to your left casually, whipping your head back for a double take when you saw james in the window of the 24-hour gym, doing god knows what on a machine you didn't know the name of. you did, however, know that it was turning you on.
both your interactions with james thus far had featured him shirtless; as a lifeguard, it was bound to happen even with the mandatory red and yellow sun shirt, and james in particular seemed determined to wear it as little as possible. so, you knew he was gorgeous, with the body of a Greek god and the confidence to show it off. this somehow seemed more sensual -- how was it that sometimes wearing some clothes was more sexual than wearing nothing? james was in a muscle shirt with the arm holes cut longer to give a peek into the broad expanse of chest underneath. he was on the ergo, you remembered marlene explaining once, and the way his muscles shifted under his skin was downright sinful. you'd never understood why they were described as 'rippling' until you saw james'.
you realised with a start you were openly ogling him on the side of the main street and tore your eyes away with a start, pretending to admire a nearby tree as you felt your embarrassment catch up to you. you fanned yourself with your cap quickly, putting on a big show of taking a rest break for no one but yourself. stealing one last glance at him, glistening with sweat and looking positively unearthly, you began to run again, filing the image away for when you were alone.
you were pretty sure he hadn't seen you, thank god, but your hammering heart still matched the pounding of your feet against the pavement as you headed home. you figured if nothing else, giving you full-body goosebumps just by working out probably earned him your name, and you resolved to give it to him the next time you met.
you thought you were safe for the rest of the day since you were working a shift at the local supermarket, alas, fate had other plans. you'd been behind the counter for a few hours, well into the groove of scanning the items through and getting them into bags as fast as possible.
"hi, welcome to -- oh!" you said, meeting his hazel eyes. "james."
"nice uniform," he glanced down at your shirt, eyes catching on your silver name tag. he tried it out, seemingly content with the way it sounded from his mouth.
"you caught me." you smiled, not upset your game had come to an end.
"how do you know this girl, jamie?" the woman next to him said and you noticed her for the first time. she had to be his mother, both contextually and because they shared the same spark of trouble in their eye and lopsided smile. you raised an eyebrow in his direction: jamie. james seemed unfazed, to his credit, smiling down at his mum warmly.
"this is one of the girls i told you i met down at the pool. my first friend here." his earnestness caught you off guard again and you hated the way it warmed your heart.
"it's nice to meet you mrs, uh..."
"potter," she finished for you, "but call me effie, all of james' friends do." you smiled at her, introducing yourself politely despite the name tag rendering it superfluous.
you continued to make small talk with them as you bagged their groceries, surprised by how easy it was to talk to james and his mum. you were never really one for new people in general, growing up in a smaller town made it an unnecessary skill to develop, but you were especially bad with parents. you could hardly talk to lily's parents, and she was your closest friend. yet, with effie it felt natural, as if you'd known the both of them all your life.
you answered her questions about the town patiently, giving her recommendations about what you thought were the best restaurants and telling her about the book club your mum was part of that might be a good way for her to make friends. as the transaction came to an end effie was all gratitude, showering you with kind compliments and an invitation to visit their house whenever you pleased (much to james' chagrin, judging by his red cheeks).
"you bring these to the car, mum. i just have another question and then I'll be right out." you looked at him curiously, unsure of what couldn't wait or be said in front of effie. james watched her leave for a second before turning to you with an unnaturally innocent expression.
"you follow arsenal, right? pretty chuffed with their results this season, though I wish they could've brought it home." you opened your mouth to reply before pausing, your eyes narrowing to scrutinise him.
"how do you know i support them?" you asked, sure you hadn't brought up football in your limited interactions with him.
"you were wearing their hat, right? this morning?" he asked, and you tried to think back, oh. if you hadn't picked up on the reference, james' shit-eating grin told you all you needed to know. he'd seen you this morning. oh god, james had seen you checking him out from the street and you wanted to sink into a hole.
somewhat predictably, james didn't appear mad. in fact, he looked rather pleased with himself as you covered your face with your hands, hoping he'd just leave you to wallow in self-pity.
"you know, you could've just asked," he said casually, as if you weren't utterly embarrassed, "i would've let you watch. hell, i'll let you touch if you ask nicely." now he was teasing, and for the sake of your pride you had to come up with something in response or he'd take the upper hand and never give it back.
"i was just making sure you didn't hurt yourself, big boy." not your best, but at least it wasn't tears of shame, and james seemed amused anyhow.
"good to know you would have saved me, supergirl." he shot you a wink and you scoffed good-naturedly. you shooed him off with the excuse of his mum waiting in a hot car, but honestly, you knew you couldn't keep up the banter or staring up into his eyes for much longer without jumping his bones in the middle of the checkout line. you had a feeling your boss wouldn't take too kindly to you riding james potter on the conveyor belt, even if he was the hottest man you'd ever seen in your life.
"see you later, hot stuff!" he called, probably too loudly for the grocery store, a cheeky salute to you as he braved the heat outside.
"bye, baywatch," you muttered, praying you didn't look as flustered as you felt. you called the next customer over, greeting them politely as you tried to pretend there wasn't an aching in your core.
not sure if im convinced by james as an arsenal supporter but lmk if you have a more fitting team for him!!
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