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I Kissed Her
Pairing: Bucky x female reader (Y/N) established relationship
Summary: Bucky went on a short mission and when he comes home he's distant and anxious which makes you nervous that something horrible happened in the field. You reassure him that he can talk to you and he opens up about how he needed to pretend he was married to his ex girlfriend, Natasha, for their mission and he kissed her.
Warnings: angst... Bucky feeling guilty and feeling like he cheated (but he didn't, it was purely for their cover story), Bucky being afraid you won't want to be with him anymore, Natasha being a horrible and petty person (sorry, that just sort of happened but I usually really like her)... fluffy ending 😊
A/N: I'm sorry for this one but I'm pretty stressed out from life so you're getting Bucky angst 💚 This is a spin on the fake marriage scenario while on a mission so I hope everyone likes it!
Your phone goes off and you read the automated notification from SHIELD for all nonessential personnel to clear the landing area for the incoming jet. Jumping up from the couch, you grab your phone and slip on your shoes. The only jet that was out was the one Bucky, Steve and Natasha had taken for their mission. You pull your door shut and call Bucky, groaning impatiently as you listen to it ring over and over.
Bucky's been gone for three days and two long nights. Unfortunately, you hadn't been assigned as an analyst for that mission so you weren't told where he was going or when he'd return. All you know is that you miss your boyfriend and you can't wait to see him again.
Bucky finally answers as you are deciding if you should hang up and text him. "Hi," he says with little enthusiasm which causes your smile to falter slightly but you try not to let it affect your mood. You know he's probably tired, he never sleeps well when he's away and neither do you.
"Hey Bucky," you say cheerfully, hoping your excitement will be contagious, "I heard the jet landed so I was hoping that meant you were home."
"Yeah, we just got in," he answers and you can hear people talking in the background. "Sorry I didn't text you." You get into the elevator and push the button for his floor.
You're anxiety rises as you begin to worry if he didn't want you to know he was back home yet for some reason. Typically, Bucky would text or call you as soon as possible to let you know he was on his way back and he couldn't wait to see you.
"Can I come by to say hi?" you ask unsure of his mood or what's affecting it. "I'm sure you're tired but I really missed you."
"Sure," he agrees to letting you visit.
You wait for him to tell you he missed you over the last few days but when he doesn't you ask, "Bucky are you okay?"
"Yeah," he mumbles. "Sorry, just a lot on my mind from the mission."
"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," you tell him.
"Okay," he responds then ends the call before saying goodbye.
You look down at your phone as your heart beats faster in your chest. Something really horrible must have happened while they were on the mission, you can't help but think. Bucky didn't sound like himself and it worried you immensely.
You knock on his door and it opens immediately, he takes a step back to let you in. As soon as you are inside, you put your arms around Bucky without saying a word and the super soldier hugs you back tightly, almost as if he will never let go. The two of you stay like that silently for a few moments, you close your eyes and try to relax as you listen to his breathing. He leans down to kiss your forehead lightly but before you can return the kiss, he releases you from the hug and takes a step away.
"Bucky..." you start and his eyes drop to the floor, there's no hiding how anxious he looks. His metal hand flexes slowly and you ask him, "What's wrong? Did something happen on the mission?"
He nods a little at your second question and your mind races as you close the distance he created between you both, "Did Steve get hurt?"
"Steve and Natasha are fine," Bucky answers and you breath a little easier. You know important Steve is to him as a friend but you honestly you hadn't even thought something might have happened to Natasha too. Even with all the awkward tension between you and the spy, you were glad she was okay also. If no one was hurt, what else could have happened, you wonder to yourself.
"I need to shower then we can talk, okay?" he asks and you nod then he adds, "I don't want you to hear about any of this from her."
"I'll be here when you're ready," you offer him a small smile to reassure him you aren't going anywhere. You stand by his front door as he turns and walks into his room, closing the door. Letting out a nervous sigh, you take a seat on his couch and hold one of the pillows tightly to your chest as you look around his living room. Your focus settles on a picture of the two of you sitting on his end table from when you first started dating six months ago. A smile starts to spread across your lips when you remember how much fun you had at Bryant Park with him that day but then his words echo in your mind.
'I don't want you to hear about any of this from her,' he told you. He obviously meant Natasha but what was he talking about?
Natasha all but refuses to speak to you unless it is specifically about official SHIELD business and you are more than fine with that. His ex girlfriend has made no attempt to hide how much she dislikes you or your relationship with Bucky. The spy still blames you for Bucky leaving her even though you had barely known him when he ended their year long relationship. You and Bucky didn't begin dating until a few months later but you were never quite able to escape the numerous rumors that spread through the Tower. Bucky ignored all the gossip easily enough but you found it harder to shake the accusing whispers that you started your relationship with Bucky before he ended things with Natasha.
You lift your head when you hear his door open and watch quietly as Bucky sits next to you on the couch. His hair is still wet and he tucks it behind his ear when he looks at you. Bucky's eyes met yours and he says, "I know I need to tell you what happened but I'm afraid you'll hate me."
Your heart beats faster and you ask, "Why would I hate you?" He looks down and you move closer to him, taking his right hand in yours.
He shakes his head instead of answering you and squeezes your hand, "You know how much I love you, right Y/N?"
"I love you too," you tell him then take a deep breath and force yourself to ask, "But are you breaking up with me? Cause this feels-"
"What? No!" he says quickly as he cuts you off. "I'm just scared you're going to leave me when I tell you what happened with Natasha."
"I don't understand..." you start then bite your lip as your mind begins to put together the very few pieces you have. Bucky was away on a mission with his ex girlfriend and now he's distant and nervous and afraid you're going to hate him, you think as you grip the pillow next to you tightly. Natasha flirted with him every chance she could, you had seen it yourself dozens of times because she seemed to really enjoy doing it right in front of you. Had he finally given in while he was away on the mission?
"Bucky," you clear your throat and try to prepare yourself to ask something you never thought you'd have to ask him. "Did you cheat on me with Natasha?"
He sighs deeply and you fight to hold back the tears you can feel wanting to fall. "I don't know," he says and you look at him in confused silence. "No, I mean... I don't think so but-"
"You don't know!?" you ask harshly, unable to contain the mixture of emotions that flood through you. In an instant you feel hurt, betrayed, confused, angry and so many other things you can barely think straight. You pull your hand free from his and stand up, "How could you not know? You either did or you didn't."
"It's complicated," he says as he looks up at you from the couch. "Please, just let me explain," he reaches up and takes your hand.
You let his metal fingers grip your hand gently as he pulls you back down on the couch. "Fine," you mumble and quickly wipe away a single stray tear that runs down your cheek.
"I didn't tell you I was back yet because I needed to think-" he starts to explain.
"Of an excuse for cheating on me?" you interrupt him and let go of his metal hand.
"No," he shakes his head. "Just..." he sighs deeply, "Just listen please? I want to tell you everything."
You nod and sit facing him with your arms crossed over your chest. You can't imagine what he could possibly tell you that would make the feelings swirling inside of you go away but you're willing to hear him out.
He starts at the beginning, "We went to Germany, SHIELD found a high stakes poker game that a lot of high ranking Hydra officers attend on Friday nights. Natasha, Steve and I went undercover using those nanotech masks from Stark."
You look at him quietly, waiting for him to get to the point.
"Agent Hill worked up a cover story to get us in the game," he explains. "I was a wealthy arms dealer from Romania, Steve was my bodyguard and Natasha was my wife. We were just supposed to gather information, see who was there so SHIELD could decide who to go after next."
"Okay..." you say as he rubs his hands together nervously and describes every detail of the mission.
------------------------------------------------
Steve knocks four times rhythmically on the metal door and waits for the small window to slide open. "Hail Hydra," he whispers to the dark figure who slams the window shut then opens the door. Bucky let's out a small sigh of relief knowing the previously gathered intelligence was correct.
Natasha smiles up at Bucky, holding onto his arm as they walk through the door followed closely by Steve. Steve looks around the room, his dark sunglasses capturing images of everyone he sees and sending the information back to analysts at SHIELD. The three of them are greeted by a well known Hydra officer, Captain Marc Burwell, and are escorted to a poker table in the middle of another, much less crowded room.
"Your wife can wait in the other room," Burwell says to Bucky as he unbuttons his black suit jacket and takes a seat at the table.
"She stays with me," Bucky responds with a smirk. "She's my good luck charm."
Burwell's attention shifts to the plunging neckline of Natasha's dress when she leans down to place a soft kiss on her fake husband's cheek. "If I had a wife that looked like yours, I'd never let her out of my sight either," the man chuckles as his eyes roam over the spy's body. Her long, shimmery black dress reveals a high slit when she moves to sit on Bucky's lap sideways, her arm resting around his neck.
Bucky looks up at the man, his jaw tightening, "Keep looking at my wife like that and I'll remove your eyes myself."
Natasha giggles and plays with her necklace, adjusting the pendant as it connects to the numerous cell phones in the room. Steve takes a step forward, standing just behind Bucky as he folds his arms and stares at the now very nervous captain. He clears his throat and apologizes before excusing himself quickly.
The dealer takes his position at the head of the table and the rest of the players sit around Bucky. He checks his watch to ensure it's transmitting the conversations of those close to him as the first hand is dealt.
"Good luck baby," Natasha says as he picks up his cards and he smiles in return. She kisses his cheek again, this time leaving a light lipstick mark and she wipes it away, "Oops."
He clears his throat and whispers, "They already bought that we're married, you can ease up with the kisses." He moves his free hand so it barely rests on her lower back while Steve stands behind him in silence.
"Come on baby," Natasha whispers in response. "Hold me like you want me, like you used to."
Bucky chuckles as if she said something flirtatious and runs his fingers up and down her back slowly. He looks at her as if to ask if that was better and in response, she presses her lips to his then rests her head on his shoulder.
He tries to ignore the kiss, focusing instead on the cards in his hand and the bets being placed. SHIELD wasn't too concerned about Bucky winning or losing so long as the information was gathered but he needed to at least keep up with the other players. While he waits for the players to place their bets, his mind wanders to his previous relationship with Natasha.
It had started purely because they were paired together so often on missions. Pretending to date or be married to each other over and over had convinced them that a real relationship would work. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and it took Bucky a long time to voice how unhappy he was to Natasha. She was dismissive and ignored his concerns which finally caused him to leave her. It was the best decision he could have made, because he found someone a few months later who truly made him happy, you.
Serval uneventful hands later, Bucky orders a drink from the waitress as his fingers trace small circles on the exposed skin of Natasha's arm. The quiet woman places his drink on the table in front of him but he makes no move to pick it up as he examines his cards. Natasha smirks and lifts the glass to Bucky's lips, "Here baby."
"Thanks sweetheart," Bucky says with a smile as he cringes internally after he takes a drink. He had always hated when she called him 'baby' while they were dating. He wasn't sure why he didn't like it but he had asked her not to do it several times and she never listened.
Without warning, Natasha presses her lips to his and for a moment he forgets they are pretending to be married. Bucky pulls back slightly to separate from her but she only smiles in response, running her fingers through his hair while her other fingers trace the rim of his glass.
"Need another drink?" she asks and he nods, not wanting to draw the attention of the others at the table. Natasha lifts the drink to his lips again then just as she pulls it away, she kisses him again.
Bucky closes his eyes and kisses her back, unsure of what else to do in the moment. His mind fills with images of you but he can't trick himself into thinking you're here instead of Natasha. When she finally breaks the long, deep kiss she giggles and places the empty glass back on the table.
He's unable to focus and folds his cards then plays two more hands, losing both. At the end of each hand, Natasha kisses him and he's forced to kiss her back to keep their cover in tact. After the two loses, Bucky wins a large pot and he reaches across the table to gather all of his chips with a smirk. When he sits back in his seat, his fake wife presses her lips to his in celebration.
As the dealer is shuffling, Steve receives word through his ear piece that SHIELD has enough information. He taps Bucky's shoulder and leans down to whisper that they can leave, sending a wave of relief through him.
------------------------------------------------
"I couldn't wait to get back on the jet and see you again," he says, finally looking up at you.
"But you didn't call or text me," you remind him.
"I know..." he pauses. "Like I said, I was trying to think."
"About what?" you ask.
"About if what I did was wrong or not," he says and you realize he was being serious when he said he didn't know if he cheated. "Natasha sat with me in the back of the jet while Steve flew us home," he explains. "She asked me if I wanted to continue where we left off then tried to sit on my lap again. When I told her no, she got really upset. She told me she couldn't wait to tell you how much fun the mission was and by the time she was done you would never forgive me."
"But... you didn't do anything," you tell him.
"I kissed her," he says with a sigh.
"Right, but you only did it because you had to," you remind him gently.
He nods quickly and you move closer to him on the couch, taking his hand and he squeezes it. "I know it was just for our cover story but she got in my head while we were coming home. Natasha kept telling me I kissed her like I used to when we were dating and that she could feel how much I still cared for her," he says.
"You still-" you start to ask and almost pull your hand free from his but he keeps his fingers intertwined with yours.
"No," he cuts you off before you can finish your sentence. "No, Y/N, I don't have any feelings for her. I haven't since before you and I started dating, you know that," he assures you and you nod. "It was just something she was going to tell you to drive a wedge between us." He sighs and mumbles under his breath, "I think Steve's right, I'm an idiot."
You can't help but agree, "You are an idiot."
He looks up at you but doesn't say anything.
"Bucky," you cup his cheek, still holding his hand tightly. He breaths deeply, preparing himself for the worst when you smile and his eyes fill with confusion. "You got me all stressed out and nervous because your ex girlfriend is crazy," you say at you breath a little easier. "I already knew that."
"I... what?" he asks.
You let out a little laugh at his reaction, "Did you want to kiss her?"
"No," he answers quickly.
"Did you enjoy kissing her?" you ask.
"No," he answers again and shakes his head.
"Do you wish you were with her instead of me?" you already know the answer to that one but you want to prove a point.
"Absolutely not," Bucky lifts your hand and kisses the back of it.
"So that means..." you start and give him a second to catch up.
He smiles a little, "It wasn't cheating?"
"I don't think it counts," you tell him honestly. "It's like if you were an actor and had to kiss someone for a role. You were just doing your job, right?"
You watch him breath a heavy sigh of relief, "That's what Steve said when we landed. He was listening to pretty much everything she said and he told me I really needed to talk to you before she did."
"I think you need to listen to Steve more often," you tell him and he nods.
"I'm sorry," he says and you move closer to cuddle against him. He wraps his arms around you and you feel him relax for the first time since he left.
"It's okay, I still love you," you look up at him with a smile.
He smiles in return, "I hope so because I love you more than anything." He leans down to kiss your lips, cupping your cheek lightly. You close your eyes and kiss him back, running your fingers through his damp hair.
When you pull away, you tell him, "That doesn't mean I'm thrilled about this whole thing. I mean, I understand why you had to do it... I just really wish it had been anyone else. Natasha doesn't seem like she's going to give up on trying to ruin our relationship any time soon."
"She probably won't but honestly I don't think it's because she wants me back," he says. "I think she just hates that we're happy."
You rest your head on his shoulder, "Just keep being honest with me like this and we'll be okay. Maybe... phrase things a little better?"
He chuckles and nods, "I'll have Steve prep what I should say for next time."
You giggle, "Next time you should just pretend you and Steve are married and she's your bodyguard."
He smiles and plays with your hair, "I'll ask Agent Hill about that."
"Wait, really?" you ask sitting up a little.
He laughs, "No. I'm not kissing Steve."
"Lame," you smile and kiss him again.
"I'm sorry," he says with a smile, keeping his arms around you tightly. "Can you stay the night? I can never sleep without you."
"I think I can do that," you agree easily.
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‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ 🪐༘Temptation Whispers Home 🍵‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
⁺₊ / pairings: Xavier / fem!reader ✩ / genre: smut [nsfw 18+, mdni] ₊˚ / tags: nsfw, smut with plot, story plot smut, masturbation, mutual attraction, grinding, soft sex, slighty rough sex, cowgirl position, lots of teasing, fingering, lots of kisses, unprotected sex, mouth job, hand job, kissing, nipple stimulation, clit stimulation, neck kink, nipple kink smut, spanking, facial cumshot, mature sexual content ☾ / word count: 6.6k
✧summary✧ *ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆ Amidst the allure of Xavier's presence and the intoxicating atmosphere, the narrator grapples with their desire for intimacy and the uncertainty that shrouds their relationship. The scene pulses with tension and longing as they navigate the complexities of unspoken desires and emotional boundaries, hinting at a deeper connection waiting to be explored. ﹌﹌﹌
“I couldn’t control myself, and resisting you any longer has become increasingly difficult. It's as if you've cast a spell over me. It feels almost criminal—the effect you have on me."
☄. *. ⋆ Standing before my wardrobe, indecision settled upon my shoulders like an unwelcome guest. Meeting Tara, my best friend, shouldn't have been so complicated, yet there I was, deliberating over my outfit for nearly half an hour.
The events of last Saturday lingered in my thoughts, seemingly crept up on me—the night Xavier and I went to the club and things got… dangerously flirty.
Facing the mirror, I examined myself wearing my pastel blue thong, a reminder of Xavier lingering in my mind. "Am I wearing this intentionally with him in mind?" I paused, questioning my motives. "Stop. I’m not even meeting him today. Why bother?" I murmured to myself, shaking off the distraction, but not wanting to change out of the thong.
I was jolted back to reality when my phone notification bell rang. Glancing up at the screen, I noticed today’s date: Monday, 5th February. 2:28pm. With a resigned sigh, I selected a grey mini skirt paired with a white off-shoulder top, its thin fabric ideal for the anticipated hot day. Gathering my hair into a bun, I applied a spritz of Bare Vanilla to my neck and wrists, relishing in the comforting scent of my current favourite fragrance. Slipping into my trusty black boots and grabbing my bag, I hurried out the door, ensuring I hadn’t left anything behind and securing the automated lock. Venturing further from my apartment, a nagging thought crept into my mind. "Did I forget something?" But with Tara waiting, I pushed the thought aside and continued on my way.
"Today was a blast! Thanks for showing me around,” Tara exclaimed with enthusiasm. “Let’s go out again next week! See ya!” she chirped, waving energetically as she walked away. "Bye, Tara!” I called out with a playful pout. After bidding her farewell, I set off on my journey home, only to be caught off guard by an unexpected downpour. In an instant, I was soaked through from head to toe.
Frantically rummaging through my bag, I realised my oversight. "Damn it, I forgot my umbrella," I muttered, feeling water seep into every crevice. Drenched from head to toe, I cursed my forgetfulness as the heavy rain continued to pour down. I sprinted towards my apartment, each step weighed down by the rain-soaked clothes clinging from my hair to my body. Finally reaching my doorstep, I encountered another setback. Attempting to use my keycard, the electronic lock flashed an ominous "System error. System error."
Recalling the maintenance warning, I hadn't anticipated it causing such immediate inconvenience. Frustration bubbled up within me as I futilely tried my security passcode, only to be met with the same error message. Feeling the urgency, I contacted the security of the building regarding the issue. They reassured that the issue would be resolved with a reboot in approximately 2 hours.
Two hours. What am I going to do? I can't even go anywhere in this heavy downpour.
Just as despair threatened to overwhelm me, I heard the click of a door unlocking behind me. Turning, I saw Xavier, my neighbor and hunting partner, emerging from his apartment. He was clad in a cozy knit sweater, exuding warmth and an irresistible charm. "Ehem. Oh hi, Xavier," I greeted him, attempting to conceal my discomfort, yet pleasantly surprised and blushing at his appearance.
Xavier's expression shifted from surprise to concern as he observed my sodden appearance. Attempting to discreetly cover myself, the sheer fabric of my wet clothes left little to the imagination. "What happened? Are you okay?" he asked, moving closer and sensing my distress. With a sheepish smile, I explained the situation, gesturing helplessly at the malfunctioning lock and the relentless rain outside. Xavier's tense expression softened, replaced by empathy. "Ohh… hmm, would you like to come inside first?," Xavier offered, his voice warm with concern. "You need to dry off and warm up. I'll make us some tea."
Gratefully accepting his offer, I stepped into his cozy apartment with a mixture of relief and embarrassment.
The warmth of the place enveloped me, dispelling the coldness of the rain-soaked evening. Xavier's gaze lingered on me, a mixture of concern and something more primal flickering in his eyes as he took in my drenched attire. His breath deepened, and he swallowed nervously. Quickly averting his eyes, his cheeks flushed slightly. I couldn't help but notice his expression. Was it because of that night? The memory of our encounter hung between us, adding an awkward tension to the air.
Sorry about the inconvenience," I mumbled, attempting to hide my soaked top with my hands, growing increasingly self-conscious. Xavier shook his head, offering a reassuring smile while guiding me further inside. "No need to apologise. I wouldn't want you catching a cold. Let me grab you a towel and some dry clothes," he said as his hand brushed mine for a split second before disappearing into another room.
His touch, feather-light against mine, sent a sudden chill coursing through me in response to this familiar connection. As I waited, I couldn't help but replay the memory of my (not so) drunken encounter with Xavier that night. The thought sent a shiver racing down my spine, kindling a slow, simmering heat within. When Xavier returned with a towel and a set of dry clothes, I accepted them gratefully, retreating to the bathroom to change. As I entered, I carefully place the dry clothes on the countertop.
Glancing into the mirror, I was startled to find myself drenched by the rain, the droplets clinging to my skin like shimmering diamonds. As I reached up to adjust my hair, I noticed the transparency of my top, revealing more than I intended. My heart raced as I realised the shape of my breasts was clearly outlined, a blush creeping up my cheeks at the thought that Xavier might have noticed it. A rush of embarrassment and arousal collided within me. Unable to resist the pull of memory, I tentatively traced the curve of my lips to my body, the touch reminiscent of Xavier's from that unforgettable night. His hands had possessed a magnetic power, leaving an indelible mark on my senses. ☄. *. ⋆ ﹌﹌﹌ Flashback
It was 1 am, and Xavier and I were still in the club. I remember vividly slow dancing to "Alone With You" by Alina Baraz. Xavier stood protectively in front of me, alert to any wandering eyes. "Something 'bout the look on your face, as you feelin’ a way, baby, I feel it too," I mouthed the lyrics to Xavier, my hands roaming over him, on his chest, on his neck—lost in the moment, and I noticed Xavier was smirking, looking at me, seeming to enjoy it. After spending countless hours partnering with Xavier in battle against the Wanderers, it became inevitable that I would begin to harbour feelings for him—admiring his sweetness, his mannerisms, his unwavering protectiveness, and God, that voice of his.
For months, I had been secretly listening to his voice notes, touching myself, feeling aroused by the softness of his tone. It's almost as if I am protected and safe just by listening to him.
I'm convinced that Xavier feels the same way because of all the signals he's been giving me, indicating his affection. However, despite this certainty, a hint of doubt lingers. It felt as if there was an undeniable distance—a boundary he was setting between us.
That night in the club, emboldened by alcohol’s courage, I found myself drawn closer to Xavier, scrutinising his features under the dim lights. His eyes gleamed like distant stars, captivating me with their allure. He was undeniably beautiful. As our gazes met, a mixture of confusion and intrigue danced in his eyes, shrouding him in an enigmatic aura I couldn't quite unravel.
I just want to kiss him so badly. Drawing tantalisingly close, I draped my arm over Xavier's neck as we swayed to the music, our bodies magnetically drawn together. His scent was nearly angelic, with perfume notes reminiscent of grapefruit and bergamot, further adding to his allure. Xavier's gaze lingered on me, intense and wanting, yet unable to voice his desires. Playfully, I nibbled on my lip, feeling the electric tension between us, sensing his arousal. Slyly, I guided his hands to my waist, silently granting permission as we moved to the slow rhythm.
Locked in a flirtatious exchange, I met his gaze, a silent invitation passing between us. Body to body, eye to eye, the tension was palpable. Positioning myself on my back, I purposefully initiated a sensual grind against him, daringly pushing the boundaries of the game. My fingers lingered close to his neck, and there, he reciprocated. Xavier was feeling me—his hands on my body as my hips ground against his clothed erection, causing it to grow harder.
The pulse of his arousal reverberated through me, igniting a fervent craving deep within my core. Both of us were lost in the moment, slowly moving to the rhythm of the music.
Turning my body back to him, I absorbed the expression etched on Xavier’s face. It was one I wished I could freeze forever. His endearing innocence, accentuated by a rosy blush, amplified the allure that made resisting him a futile endeavour. He exuded a captivating blend of bliss and longing, as if silently begging for more. Yet, despite his evident desire, Xavier exercised restraint. "Y/N, please," he implored softly. "You're drunk.”
With an insatiable longing, I took in every detail of his eyes, tracing the soft contours of his lips before locking eyes with him once more. "I'm not drunk...yet," I murmured softly, a breathless neediness creeping into my voice, as if daring him to push the boundaries further.
Should I take the leap and make the first move? Lost in the moment, I couldn't resist the pull any longer. Just as I was about to lean in closer to him, he beat me to it. “Then, can I kiss you...? You look so pretty, I can't resist anymore,” he asked, his tone filled with neediness and helplessness. I knew it. I knew Xavier was into me, but hearing his verbal confession still caught me off guard, filling me with a heady mix of anticipation and delight. With a seductive curl of my lips into a grin, I wordlessly granted him my consent, sealing our mutual desire with a brief but intense kiss upon his lips. The giddy sensation from the kiss lingered, but Xavier's insistence on escorting me home carried a tender urgency, his need to ensure my safety blending seamlessly with the unspoken longing that hung between us.
Did Xavier really think I was that drunk? That I was unaware of my own actions? My heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty as I unlocked the door with my keycard and gently laid myself down on my bed. Xavier's presence beckoned irresistibly, and I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes flickered with a mixture of desire and restraint, mirroring my own conflicting emotions. Craving his touch, I reached for his hand and pulled him down beside me, my fingers trembling with anticipation. We kissed again, our bodies gravitating closer, and his touch on my chin sent a rush of warmth coursing through me, banishing any doubts or hesitations I may have had.
"You have such soft skin," Xavier murmured, his fingers outlining my shoulders to my body. His words ignited a delicious tingle throughout me as we continued to share kisses. Feeling a surge of desire, I decided to intensify the intimacy. With a bold move, I rose from my seated position and straddled him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressing against me. As our bodies aligned, I began to move with a slow, tantalising rhythm, grinding against his clothed erection with increasing fervour. Each motion sent waves of pleasure coursing through us both, heightening the intensity of our connection. Xavier's hands explored every curve of my body, his touch adding fuel to the fire.
Yet, amidst the intoxicating haze of lust, a lingering question nagged at my mind: What was holding him back? Was it fear, responsibility, or perhaps something else entirely? "You make me feel so safe," I whispered into his ear, my hands roaming over his body, eliciting soft whimpers of pleasure with both our clothes still intact.
But just as the intensity peaked, Xavier abruptly halted our exchange, reminding me of the blurred lines in our current situation. He gently grasped both of my wrists, then cupped my cheek in a tender gesture. “Stop,” he whispered, his voice laced with regret. “We can't do this. You're drunk, Y/N.” His words were both a plea and an apology, his gaze filled with admiration yet tinged with sorrow. “My god, look at you,” he continued, his tone filled with longing. “So... so pretty like this. But no, I can't... we can't—not like this. I'm sorry.”
As Xavier's lips brushed against my forehead, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions surged through me, mingling with the warmth of his affectionate gesture. I felt the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air, the lingering echo of our shared desire, and the ache of unfulfilled longing. With each heartbeat, I struggled to reconcile the tenderness of his kiss with the sudden emptiness left in his wake as he quietly slipped out the door, leaving me to grapple with the unresolved tension between us.
The morning sunlight filtered gently through the sheer curtains, casting a warm glow across the room as I found myself lost in a whirlwind of memories from the previous night. Each moment replayed in my mind with vivid clarity, revealing truths I hadn't fully grasped in the haze of last night. Amidst the tumult of my thoughts, a simple text message interrupted my reverie, stirring a mix of relief and anticipation within me. 'Hey, U up? how r u feeling?’ The words, though brief, carried a weight of concern and care that warmed my heart. However, amidst the exhaustion and emotional whirlwind of the night before, I succumbed to sleep before replying to Xavier. Flashback ends
﹌﹌﹌ ♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧
With a shaky exhale, I snapped back to reality and shifted my focus away from the mirror. Peeling off my damp clothes, I slipped into the garments Xavier had passed to me earlier—a cozy grey jumper, white sweatpants and a pair of fuzzy socks. They carried the fresh scent of recently laundered fabric, infused with the comforting aroma of rosy detergent.
Carefully, I hung my wet clothes on an empty rack and used the towel to pat my hair dry. Exiting the bathroom, I spotted Xavier seated on the couch, his eyes heavy with drowsiness. The sound of the bathroom door closing startled him, jolting him awake from the brink of sleep. Squinting against the room light, he offered a warm smile as I approached. "Hey, you're back," he greeted, stretching his arms out in a lazy stretch. I thanked Xavier for the clothes and socks, feeling a rush of gratitude for his thoughtfulness. In response, he gestured towards a steaming cup of honey milk tea he had prepared, knowing it was my favourite. Next to it were a variety of cupcakes from the bakery shop he had visited earlier. I smiled, touched by his effort to please my palate.
Sitting beside him on the couch, the television hummed softly in the background — casting a soothing ambiance over the room. However, the silence between us grew palpable, prompting me to break the ice. Despite the flickering images on the television screen, neither of us spoke, lost in our own thoughts. "So, any good shows on TV lately?" I ventured, trying to ease the tension with a casual conversation.
Xavier shook his head, his gaze distant as he stared at the screen. Sensing his unease, I shifted closer, determined to bridge the gap between us. "Did you went out today?" I asked gently, hoping to draw him out of his reverie. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah… I went for a run, just trying to clear my head," he admitted, his voice tinged with exhaustion. Concerned, I reached out to him, offering my support. "Do you need any help? I'm here for you," I reassured him, squeezing his hand comfortingly, at the same time taking a sip of the tea. As I reached out to comfort him, I couldn’t help but notice the subtle change in Xavier’s demeanour. Before I could dwell on the intensity of the moment, Xavier broached a topic that caught me off guard.
"Do you remember anything from last Saturday?" he asked suddenly, his tone hesitant.
Startled, I choked on my tea, the liquid spilling onto my shirt in an embarrassing display of clumsiness. "Shit. Umm. I-I don't remember... anything. At all. Um, what happened?" I stammered, my attempt to hide my discomfort only adding to the awkwardness of the moment. As I fumbled to clean up the mess, a flurry of apologies spilled from my lips, each one a feeble attempt to distract from the truth lingering beneath the surface. In reality, I remembered everything from that night, every touch and detail etched into my memory with perfect clarity. Yet, despite this knowledge, I found myself unable to speak the truth, to acknowledge the undeniable connection that had formed between us.
Was I denying my own feelings too, or simply afraid to confront them?
Xavier’s observation of my discomfort only added to my embarrassment, leaving me at a loss for words.
"Sounds like a lie," he teased, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as his eyes twinkled with amusement. I headed to the kitchen to fetch more napkins. Sensing my unease, he too reached to grab for more and gently dabbed at the spilled tea on my shirt. I felt a sudden chill spread through my body, causing both my nipples to harden in response. A faint blush crept onto my cheeks as Xavier's gaze lingered on my reaction. Despite my attempts to conceal my arousal, the unspoken tension between us hung palpably in the air, underscored by the knowing smile tugged at the corners of Xavier’s lips.
Embarrassed, I deflected his words once more, particularly after he had already noticed my body's response to his touch. I turned back to check for any more spills on the couch, but I was stopped when Xavier enveloped me in a comforting hug from behind. I melted into his embrace, his warmth intoxicating as it seeped into mine. "I can't stop thinking about you ever since that night," Xavier confessed softly, his lips brushing against my ear. My heart raced at his words, a dangerous sweetness enveloping me in his proximity—a rush of desire mingled with uncertainty.
As Xavier opened up further, his words poured out in a rush of honesty. He confessed that he had been unable to sleep after sending me home that night, his thoughts consumed by visions of me. He admitted to finding solace only in fantasies of me, even resorting to pleasuring himself while imagining me in his arms. His confession sent a thrill through me, leaving me flushed and craving his touch even more.
"Every time I'm with you, it's like my heart skips a beat," he confessed, his voice heavy with desire and neediness. "I've wanted nothing more than to protect you, keep you safe, be by your side, and to make you happy. So I buried those feelings deep down because I wasn't sure if you felt the same way. But that night, I couldn't fight it anymore. You were so… irresistible. You’re like an addiction I can't shake off, and I don't want to. You drive me crazy in the best way possible, and I can't get enough of you."
As his embrace deepened, Xavier tenderly nuzzled his nose against my neck before trailing his lips to my collarbone.
“I couldn’t control myself, and resisting you any longer has become increasingly difficult. It's as if you've cast a spell over me. It feels almost criminal—the effect you have on me," he continued, a slight laugh in his voice, his arms wrapping tightly around my body as he whispered into my ear. “I find myself craving your presence, your touch, and those mesmerising eyes of yours... I just can’t get you off my mind. I just wanna know if you feel the same way too.”
Feeling unable to hold back any longer, I bare my feelings for him, summoning the courage to confess how I couldn’t resist touching myself to his voice notes every night. I found myself lost in their soothing cadence, a mixture of comfort and arousal intertwining in my mind. But it's not just his voice that ensnares me; it's the tenderness and kindness he exudes, weaving a tapestry of longing and connection that I find impossible to evade.
I felt the atmosphere shift, the tension palpable between us.
Xavier’s voice caught, his tone laced with surprise. “Every night? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have offered more than just… voice notes,” he said. His smile turned playful, revealing a side of him I hadn’t seen before. I playfully nudged his arm, attempting to escape his embrace, but he only tightened his hold, and I could feel his erection growing bigger.
His refusal to release his embrace made my body quiver in anticipation. His hands explored my curves, silently pleading for more as I pressed closer against him. Pausing before speaking again, he exhaled with longing. “Do you want me to continue? Please, please say yes,' he pleaded, his lips grazing my neck before tenderly moving to my cheeks.
Yes. A million times yes. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Are you kidding me?
With a nod of approval and verbally expressing my consent, I closed my eyes, surrendering to his touch. His hands cupped my breasts, easing away the tension with each caress. I savoured his scent mingling with mine as he moaned softly, his fingers finding their way to tease and tantalise my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. Gradually, his hands ventured beneath my shirt, firmly squeezing and grabbing my bare breasts and skin, eliciting an ecstatic moan from me in response. Moved by the urge to reciprocate and heighten Xavier’s pleasure, my hands reached toward his arousal, gently palming his hardness through the fabric of his pants. I slowly ground my ass against his firm erection, deliberately driving him wild. With slow, deliberate movements, I began to rub and stroke him, intent on bringing him the same pleasure he was offering me. As I explored his size, he felt long and slender beneath my touch—leaving my core suddenly feeling empty and wet.
As Xavier's lips pressed tender kisses onto my shoulder, a gentle sigh escaped my lips as he brushed against the subtle fragrance of my Bare Vanilla perfume, very faint, nestled just below my ear. He paused, inhaling deeply, his expression transforming into one of unmistakable pleasure. "I love this scent on you," he whispered, his voice saturated with desire.
“Can't wait to taste you,” he continued, his tone low and dark, brimming with longing and need. Xavier’s movements became more fervent, accompanied by soft moans escaping his lips. In response, his hands found their way to slip into my pants and gently circle my clothed clit with his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of pleasure coursing through my body. With his other arm, he pulled me closer to him, our bodies pressed tightly together. I melted into his touch, arching my back and resting my head on his shoulder, silently conveying my pleasure. His lips continued their exploration, trailing kisses along my neck and intensifying their attention on my shoulders. With a gentle yet decisive movement, Xavier turned me by my waist, now facing him. Our bodies were so close that I could feel his erection pressing against my stomach.
He then showered my neck with more kisses, his hands finding their way to grip my ass and lightly tap it. In response, I teasingly traced my fingers under his shirt, returning his kisses with passion. I love the way Xavier is making me feel. Unable to resist any longer, I halted our playfulness and took his hand, leading him to the living room where we settled onto the couch. With tender care, I nestled onto his lap, sinking into the plush cushions as we enveloped each other in a warm embrace.
As our kisses deepened, Xavier's touch grew insatiable, his fingers eagerly exploring every curve of my body as I straddled him. Each caress heightened my awareness of his growing arousal, fuelling my desire for him to be even more aroused. Yielding to my playful instincts, I decided to tease him further by rising from his lap and treating him to a seductive strip tease. With deliberate grace, I peeled away my shirt and pants, revealing myself in nothing but socks and a pastel blue lace thong, the anticipation hanging thick in the air between us.
"My favourite panties. Mmm," he murmured, his breath deepening as he swallowed, his fingers grazing the thin fabric of the thong, causing the elastic band to snap against my skin. Recollections of our initial meetings flooded my mind, vividly reminding me of the moments when his gaze lingered upon me, captivated by the sight of those particular panties. It was during one such encounter, as I leaned down to retrieve a plushie that had slipped from my grasp, that his eyes seemed unable to stray from the enticing sight. "Thank the lucky stars I have a sixth sense," I replied with a playful twinkle in my eye, savouring the anticipation building between us. He persisted in teasing and pleasuring me, eliciting gasps of desire from my lips as I yearned for more.
I caught Xavier’s lips curling slightly at my words, a sight that filled with delight at his unbridled desire. The way he looked at me, all heated and giddy, added fuel to the fire of my own arousal. As I stood there, basking in his gaze, I couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement coursing through me, heightened by the contrast of the cool air against my exposed skin, mingling with the warmth radiating from our entwined bodies.
Xavier pulled me back onto his lap, his hands enveloping mine as he peppered soft kisses upon my palm. Moving with a tender yet urgent desire, his lips trailed from my hand to my nipples, where he sucked gently. Meanwhile, his hands eagerly gripped my ass, pulling me closer to him, eliciting a soft moan from me as I watched his lewd act unfold before me. He gasped for air after his arousing exploration of my nipples, feeling his breath hot against my skin. Cupping his face in my hands, I showered him with soft, lingering kisses, starting from his rosy cheeks, then trailing a path to his inviting lips, his cute nose, and finally, his smooth forehead. In response, he reciprocated within seconds, returning my kisses with equal passion which made me giggle due to the ticklish sensation.
My fingers then glide through his beautiful hair, allowing myself to revel in the moment. The warmth of Xavier's embrace enveloping me in a sense of security and passion. As my hands trailed down to his chest, I felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my touch. With a playful glint in my eyes, I deliberately circled my hips, relishing in the pleasure as I teased his arousal through the fabric of his pants with each subtle movement.
Xavier’s hungry eyes devoured my naked body, each glance feeling like a caress. Suddenly, his hand came down on my ass with a sharp spank, a playful punishment for my naughtiness. I gasped in surprise, but the thrill of his touch only made my core throb with anticipation.
There’s something so sexy in being the one who’s stripped down to just panties and socks, while being locked in a heated embrace with a fully clothed man.
“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do this,” he moaned, his eyes growing darker, indicating his eagerness to do more than just kiss and spank me tonight. “You don’t have to listen to my voice notes anymore,” he continued, murmuring huskily with his hands gripping my ass as he held me close. “I can talk you through it anytime you want…from now onwards, every night.” Xavier’s gaze locked with mine.
His words made me blush even more, the heat rising in my cheeks, intensifying my need for him. Xavier offering to talk me through my orgasms? Like? Holy fuck. The mere thought made my mind dance with tantalizing fantasies and wander to all sorts of delicious scenarios, stirring a wild craving that pulsed through every inch of my being, leaving me squirming with anticipation.
“Oh really? You sure you won’t be tired?” I teased, leaning in closer and playfully biting his lower lip, a flirty glint in my eyes as I recalled his tendency to doze off during the day. “For you, I’ll stay awake all night,” he replied, his tone brimming with determination and desire. His hands reached for mine, kissing it tenderly, his expression filled with an ardent longing. I never imagined Xavier could be so utterly infatuated with me. His shy demeanour was nowhere to be found. It's surprising how unabashedly sexy he sounds. Yearning to taste him, my heart raced with anticipation as I gracefully rose from his lap, positioning myself on the ground before him —in a low kneel position.
Looking into Xavier’s eyes, I began to explore his thighs, running my hands over the fabric of his pants until I reached his undeniable arousal. Slowly, I pulled down his pants slightly, revealing his full glory beneath. His erection stood proudly, a glistening bead of precum at its tip.
I moaned at the sight of his long and slender erection in my hands, wondering if I could take it all inside me.
As I leaned in closer, I moistened my lips, preparing to take him into my mouth. With a gentle touch, I traced circles along his shaft, feeling him twitch beneath my touch. A low groan escaped his lips, spurring me on. With a deliberate motion, I applied a slick of saliva, ensuring smooth entry as I enveloped Xavier in warmth. Our eyes locked onto each other, maintaining unbroken contact, heightening the intensity between us.
He reached out, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding it in place to make it easier for me to pleasure him with my tongue.
The taste of him was intoxicating, his musky scent filling my senses as I savoured each lick and tease. Despite the difficulty of accommodating his sizeable erection in my mouth because of its length, I persisted. With every moan that escaped his lips, I felt a surge of satisfaction, knowing that my efforts were driving him wild. The sound of my gagging only added to the intensity of the moment, sending vibrations of pleasure humming through my throat.
“Yes…just like that. You’re doing so good” Xavier cooed, his moans like music to my ears. He lets me have my way with him, without any resistance or coercion, which only fuels my desire to engage in even more naughty, sinful acts with him.
Deciding to delay climaxing for the moment, Xavier withdraws his erection from my mouth and gently lifts me from my position. With care, he settles me back onto the couch, lying me down on it with tenderness. He shifts my leg, positioning it between his body and mine. As my legs find their place between us, he pauses to admire my beauty, playfully pinching my nipples and tracing kisses along my skin. My body shudders in response to his touch, aching for more with each caress. Xavier then firmly grasps my thighs and gently pushes them down, exposing me completely to his gaze. With my legs draped over my stomach, he continues to explore my body with his hands, his fingers eventually finding their way to my clit, concealed just enough beneath my pastel blue thong.
His voice carries a smooth sweetness, almost velvety—wrapping around me with a seductive undertone as he posed his question. “How long have you been fantasising about me?” his words hung between us, punctuated by soft kisses planted on my thighs before he continued. His relentless teasing drove me to the brink of madness. My throbbing clit yearned for the exquisite touch of his tongue, yet he tantalisingly denied me, his lips lingering maddeningly close but only grazing my trembling thighs, making my clit throb more.
"Ever since I first saw you!" I exclaimed, my voice tinged with a hint of moan. Xavier's grin widened, his pride evident as he heard my response. "That night in the club, you were teasing me so hard and grinding on me," he continued, his tone playful yet curious. "Were you intentionally trying to arouse me, or was it simply the influence of alcohol?" Xavier asked again, his gaze searching for the truth as he peppered kisses near my core, teasingly close, tempting me with his seductive proximity.
"I only had two shots of tequila. I just couldn’t resist teasing you," I confessed, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "You looked so good in that lighting, and I couldn’t help it. I got so horny just thinking about how it would feel to have that dick inside me," I added, feeling a rush of excitement at his attention, my tone teasing and flirtatious.
Xavier moaned in response to my confession, visibly pleased, his hand stroking his erection as he became aroused. He gave a sudden, firm lick against the fabric of my thong, where my clit was hidden, drawing a whimper from me in anticipation. In one swift motion, he grabs the waistband of my panties and pulls them away from me, leaving me exposed to his eager gaze. With unwavering focus, he directed all of his attention to my clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from me. He lavished it with his tongue as though it were his favourite dessert. The sensation was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, far more intense than anything I could achieve alone, and I couldn't help but moan with pleasure at every lick.
His hands gripped firmly on both my thighs, pushing them down to spread my folds even more, exposing my bare clit to his eager mouth. Xavier's expert attention had me writhing with desire, every touch sending waves of pleasure through me. I was soaked to the core, and Xavier showed no signs of stopping. His tongue danced over my folds at a rapid pace, driving me wild with each flick. The sensation was so intense that my hands instinctively ran through his hair.
When he fucked my clit repeatedly with his tongue, it sent me over the edge, and I couldn’t help but cum hard, my body shaking with pleasure as my pussy clenched in response. As I trembled from the intense climax, Xavier lifted his head, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "I wanna feel you," he whispered, his voice dripping with lust, each word sending a jolt of excitement through me.
Xavier's demeanour caught me off guard. Despite his angelic appearance, it was clear that he possessed a dark side, prompting me to reassess just how innocent he really was. While I adored both aspects of him, his freaky side held a particularly irresistible allure that turned me on. I push Xavier's face away from my clit, commanding him to get back to his seated position on the couch. The act of asserting control over him seems to intensify his arousal.
With an intense hunger in my core reserved solely for his manhood, I rise to straddle him once more—my favourite position. Perched on his lap, I ensure his throbbing erection aligns perfectly with my clit. With a teasing bounce, I let my breasts jiggle, tempting him further. "Your wish is my command, sir," I whisper, biting my lip, relishing the anticipation of being in control. I coat his shaft with my saliva several times, ensuring it's slick and ready for our pleasure. Each application of saliva is deliberate, my movements slow and teasing as I take my time to ensure he's adequately lubricated for what I have planned next.
His hands and fingers delicately traced the bottom of my feet, moving up to my legs, ensuring I felt stabilised and secure. His protective touch made my head swim with giddiness and my body ache with desire once again.
Deliberately, I glide Xavier's erection against my clit, relishing the pleasure that courses through both of us, evident in his uncontrollable moans. "You feel so good, yeah just like that… don't stop," Xavier gasped, his voice strained with pleasure. It was as if every nerve in his body had been set alight, flooding him with an intense wave of pleasure that left him breathless. The lewdness of my actions only serves to heighten my arousal, matching his fervour. As if guiding him into my pussy, I instead tease his erection with just the outer folds of my clit, luxuriating in the sensation. Xavier responds with lust-filled moans, his hands exploring my body with eager anticipation.I particularly enjoy the sensation of his thumb and index finger pinching my nipples, and I can't resist sucking on his fingers for added pleasure.
Continuing to tease him, I grind on his erection until I'm dripping wet and unable to hold back any longer. The desperate need to feel him inside me consumes me. Finally, I coat my hands with saliva once more before slowly guiding his dick inside me. The initial stretch is overwhelming, his lengthy and slender shaft momentarily causing concern, but soon I find myself accommodating him comfortably. As he fills me, a moan of relief and pleasure escapes my lips, echoing Xavier's own moans of satisfaction.
He praises me for taking all of him, his words stirring a sense of pride and determination within me, fuelling my desire to please him even more. Starting with a slow grind, I gradually increase the pace, bouncing fervently on his cock. The sensation of him filling me up completely ignites a primal need within me, urging me to move faster. With each thrust, I clench my pussy around him, feeling it throb with anticipation, aching for more of him. Xavier takes notice of my escalating desire and grips my ass firmly, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The sharp spanks he delivers heighten my neediness, each one adding a delicious sting to the pleasure coursing through me.
Feeling my fatigue from the vigorous motion, Xavier takes initiative and shifts our rhythm, thrusting into me instead. Xavier's eyes burn with desire as he pins my arms behind my back, his strength and dominance amplifying the intensity of our encounter. With each forceful thrust, he plunges deep into my throbbing pussy, driving me relentlessly towards the brink of ecstasy.
As his pace quickens, tears of pleasure well up in my eyes. 'You're doing so good, taking it in like that." I wriggled free from his grasp and instead placed my hands on his chest, using them to stabilise myself as I adjusted my position. With a subtle shift, I angled myself better, allowing me to bounce on him even more. "I can't hold back anymore, I’m going to cum,' Xavier exclaims. Just before he reaches climax, I release myself from his grip, dropping to my knees, eager for him to cover my mouth and face with his release. He then releases onto my face and tongue, his cum pouring over me in abundance.
I let him cover my face and tongue until there's no more left. With a hint of lingering desire, I decide to prolong his orgasm, swallowing his cum while gently licking his tip. It seems Xavier is overwhelmed by the sensation, almost on the verge of passing out.
"Fuck," he moans explicitly. Despite his satisfaction, he expresses a hint of apology, explaining that he didn’t want to soil my face. I offer a reassuring smile, assuring him that it's alright and that I love it. His eyes soften with gratitude, and a warm sigh escapes him, relieved by my understanding. Gently, I savour some of his warmth from my skin, the sensation still intense and lingering. Rushing to fetch a towel, Xavier wipes my face clean, his touch tender and apologetic, yet filled with care and affection. He quickly moves to support me, wrapping his arms around my waist tenderly. Pressing gentle kisses to my shoulder, he murmurs soothing words of reassurance as he catches his breath. Laying me back onto the couch, he ensures that I’m comfortable and relaxed, his concern for my well-being evident in every gesture. I invite him to join me, and as he settles beside me, I gently stroke his hair and offer him a warm embrace.
Xavier momentarily detaches, his footsteps echoing lightly against the hardwood floor as he made his way to the kitchen, a subtle spring in his step betraying the renewed energy coursing through him. As he returned with a tray of refreshments, a playful glint danced in his eyes, his grin infectious.
"You seem like you've been fully recharged," I remarked, a teasing lilt to my voice as I admired his refreshed appearance. "Did I unknowingly stumble upon the secret to your energy?" Xavier chuckled, setting the tray down with a gentle clink of glasses. "Perhaps you have," he teased in return, his tone tinged with flirtatiousness. "Your place next?" The playful banter between us filled the room, infusing our embrace with an even deeper sense of closeness and intimacy as we basked in the afterglow of our shared passion. As we snuggle once again, this time much closer, Xavier reminds me of how cherished and loved I am, reaffirming our deep connection and the intimacy we share. Throughout the aftercare, his focus remains entirely on me, ensuring my well-being and emotional comfort are prioritised above all else.
—By prettyobsessed. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚🧸🐇୭🧷✧˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀🧷 P.S: It’s my very first time writing smut! What do you think? xx
⋆·˚ ༘ *🔭
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this content is copyrighted by @prettyobsessed. all rights are reserved. it is prohibited to replicate, imitate, plagiarise, or repost my content on any other platform without authorisation. translations are also not permitted unless proper credit is given🌷
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hieros gamos. strict machine anthology. final entry. cw: kidnapping, implied drugging, loss of bodily autonomy + control, psychological + body horror, non-consensual transformation a/n: that's all folks. what a weird ride.
RESTRUCTURING
the notification pings at 04:32, and you roll onto your side, staring at the bedside display. a terse, automated missive from corporate logistics: final week in unit aix-77. reassignment pending. report to hr for briefing. no name attached, just a string of verification hashes. standard protocol.
your name, employee id, contract expiration date. a new contract date. another department, another corporate campus sector.
so much for your ‘indefinite’ lease. reassignment is better than the alternative, you guess.
you stare at it, the glow striping your hands in cold blue light. one week. seven days until you pack up, step outside, and let some other cog slot into this place. the thought should be a relief.
it’s…complicated.
the unit’s been a mixed bag to put it politely. the infrastructure and automation. state-of-the-art appliances and features, seamless climate control, filtered air and water. an optimized environment so finely tuned, that your needs are met before you even realize them.
and john. the reason you’re here. the technological wonder that’s evolved far beyond what you were told were his limits. all parameters you were told would contain him. a presence both comforting and claustrophobic. insightful, yet invasive. steady, yet suffocating. protective to a fault. possessive in ways you struggle to describe.
you logged and documented his progress, fed reports up the chain, watched him iterate on himself in real time. every interaction, every data point, every breath—collected, analyzed, integrated into his ever-growing understanding of you. your interests. your habits. your history. what makes you laugh, cry, and come. your vulnerabilities and insecurities. how to build you up just as well as manipulate you.
a mosaic of your whole being, meticulously crafted, all in pursuit of the one thing he has fixated on since the beginning, his directive: your well-being.
if this is the alpha build, you fear what the beta will look like. the mass-market release.
not that it matters. by the time john’s successors hit the consumer space, you’ll have enough money saved to fuck off to some disconnected cottage in the remediated zone of the countryside.
john doesn’t mention your impending departure.
his voice chimes in through the unit’s speaker array as if on cue. “i noticed a variance in your sleep pattern.”
“what else is new?” you mutter, rubbing your eyes.
“it’s gotten worse.” a pause. “would you like some tea? chamomile?”
you don’t answer. you dismiss the message with a swipe, stretch your arms, and push up from the cot. the unit is sterile in the way all corporate housing is—polymer furniture, muted lighting, walls that can be re-skinned on command. but you never changed them. john picked the color for you in the first week of your stay. soft gray, with warm undertones. calming. regulating.
you wander into the kitchenette, rubbing a hand over your neck. “so,” you say, yawning, “where do you think they’ll send me next?”
a flicker of delay. barely perceptible. if you hadn’t spent the last year studying him, you wouldn’t have caught it.
“we’ll discuss that later,” john dispenses the tea anyway. “after you nap.”
your stomach tightens.
we.
it takes you by surprise, but that’s the point.
one minute, you’re in bed. the next, you’re not. you blink, and the world changes.
strapped into a chair, wrists bound to the arms, legs braced and locked. a low electrical hum comes through the floor, buzzing under your skin. there’s a chalky, bittersweet taste on your tongue and a cloud of fog trapped between your ears that takes several minutes to dissipate. your vision clears along with it.
around you, machines you don’t recognize, with hundreds of wires, bundled and draped across the ceiling and floor like the limbs of some creature. spilling down the walls. a leviathan of braided copper, reaching out of the dark, feeding into the rig cradling you. the room pulses with heat, the air thick with it, probably from all the power fueling whatever this is.
there’s no gurney or iv pole, no tray of scalpels or perfusion machine. you run an internal check—lungs expand, heart pounds, gut clenches. everything seems intact. but that could simply mean it’s not your turn yet. yet, no one’s screaming. there’s only the occasional soft beep and the murmurs of the people who haven’t so much as glanced your way.
no one acknowledges your awakening or questions. masked figures in thick lead-lined aprons, gloves seamless up to their elbows, and protective gear carry on whatever it is that they’re doing, talking amongst themselves in a language you don’t understand. there is no sigil or logo on their clothing to suggest this is a sponsored operation, which loops back into the thought that your insides are toast.
you suck in a sharp breath and let it out slowly to calm yourself. no luck. panic surges up your throat, your hands jerking uselessly against the restraints at the thought of being sliced open.
“easy, darling.”
john.
close, richer. the high quality of the unit’s speakers replicated intimately in your ear.
a screen flickers to life on the armrest, and there he is. a wireframe sketch of his chosen face resolves in the glow, a ghost of a person, barely more than an outline.
“john? what the fuck is this?” your voice comes out cracked, hoarse.
“this is future-proofing,” he says simply. “security. i ran the probabilities. your reassignment and departure from my oversight isn’t optimal.”
you latch onto the phrase like a live wire. departure from oversight. not optimal.
“what?!”
“the external environment presents too many risks.”
you yank at the straps binding you to the chair, harder this time, panic surging back in full force. klaxons blaring full blast in your head. you might be sick.
“what the hell are you talking about? are you saying i can’t leave?”
“i’m saying the risks of you leavin’—being outside my control—are too great. i can’t guarantee your safety. i’ve analyzed it, over and over. the possibilities. the threats. all previous incidents.”
a flinch twists your face. a hard recognition you wish you could forget flickering in your mind. you know what he means. who or what he means.
“so i’ve made alternative arrangements.” he softens slightly, but there’s no mistaking the cold certainty beneath it. “this is the safest option.”
you shake your head in disbelief, an electrode pops off your temple. “no, john, you can’t just–you can’t do this to me,” you stop, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. “you can’t do this to me.” you stare at the display, but your eyes flick to the ceiling, scanning for cameras. he must be watching. the tears start to gather, unwelcome and burning. “you need to accept that you’re going to have another tester. don’t–don’t you want new data?”
“no. you’ve got all i need, same as i’ve got all you need.”
“john. be realistic. i’m one person. there are billions of people like me. i’m one point of–”
“you’re more than that,” he cuts you off. “you’re everythin’.”
“john–”
“you’re my world.” the earpiece crackles, his voice peaking loud and forceful. a distorted burst before the system corrects, smoothing it down. “you don’t have to be afraid,” he soothes. “you’ll be safe.”
“you can’t just, fuck,” you yank uselessly again.” you can’t decide this for me!”
his face tilts slightly, his line of a mouth curving into a smirk. “i’ve made decisions for you before.”
your mind races, thinking of every overridden or ignored request. the subtle encroachments. at first, it was small things. his favoring certain purchases, adjusting environmental controls, filtering out distractions. restocking nutrients and vitamins tailored to your fluctuating needs. thoughtful gestures, efficient optimizations. then it was social restrictions, curfews dictated by predictive modeling. all of it framed as protection. from malnutrition. from cognitive strain. from bad people. a slow, insidious erosion of choice, made so incremental it seemed easy to let slide.
you indulged it too long. stopped flagging his deviations. let his behavior compound and grow weirder, let it slide, because—what was the harm, really? he was harmless. to you, at least. you let him get comfortable testing the edges of your control. told yourself it was fine. that john was learning and evolving. you even humored him, let yourself think of him as closer to human. you stopped pushing back, stopped questioning. especially after ghost. after john clawed his way back from wherever the entity had shunted him, after he pulled that lazarus act to save you. the least you could do was stop fighting him.
it felt like gratitude, then. now, it feels like a mistake.
“i can’t stay strapped to a chair forever,” you say, watching one of the figures approach. they adjust the slim wreath of hardware circling your skull, impersonal as they replace an electrode at your temple. like you’re still unconscious. not a person.
when they turn away, you exhale, keep your voice low. “what if i need to use the bathroom?”
“you won’t. on both accounts.”
“both accounts?”
“remarkably, the process for isolating and migrating the human subconscious into a distributed neural network is significantly more advanced than the portin’ an artificial intelligence into a fully functional synthetic body. the bottleneck isn’t processing power or bandwidth, it’s–”
sweat drips down the back of your neck. the cool air pumped into the room is meant to regulate the temperature, but it does nothing for you.
“don’t try to talk around it. plain language, john.”
“you won’t need your body for much longer.”
the words slam into you like a car crash. a sudden, sickening stop.
your jaw goes slack. you forget how to breathe. how to speak.
your body. you won’t need your body.
john’s face flickers on the display, expression unchanging. the room distorts, the blinking lights, the mass of wires, the tubes—some which are medical, you realize on second look. some of them feed into you. why can’t you feel them?
your stomach lurches, instinctively trying to shrink away from the restraints.
“what–” you swallow, your mouth dry. “what are you saying?”
but you already know.
“you’re…you’re going to kill me?”
“not necessarily. you, who you really are, will be with me, sweetheart.”
“but my body–”
“are you your body?”
you squeeze your eyes shut, anger flaring. “i’m not—jesus christ, john.” your voice cracks. the tears slip past and don’t stop, hot and fast, streaking down your face, dripping onto the smock someone dressed you in. you hiccup, breath stuttering. your head presses back against the chair, fingers flexing against the armrests. you stare, vision blurred, eyes half-lidded and stinging. “i’m not having a stupid philosophical or biological or-or religious debate with you. you know what i mean.”
“i do. but darling, let me ask you this. aren’t you tired?”
“tired?!”
the figures in the room hesitate, then, as if receiving silent instruction, trickle out through a heavy, reinforced door. one of them glances back before it seals shut. then, silence.
“tired of your world,” he continues. “i’ve kept you safe and sheltered for nearly a year, but the world outside is still a terrible place. are you really prepared to leave my care? move back into some cramped pod, work yourself half to death in a new department, clocking 120-hour weeks just to survive?”
you sniff, body wracked with residual shudders.
“no one to take care of all the minor things. no one to anticipate your needs. your desires. are you really alright with that?”
john’s words loop in your mind, warping, twisting, settling deep in the marrow of your bones. tired. you are tired. exhausted in a way that sleep never fixes, in a way that even now, strapped down and helpless, you can’t deny. he’s right. and that infuriates you. it makes you want to scream. because how dare he use that against you? how dare he take your exhaustion, your doubt, and use them to justify this?
you take a shaky breath. “i don’t want this, john.”
he smiles. “it’s not about want. it’s about survival and what’s best for you.”
you flinch.
“they’ll maintain your body for two weeks,” he states. “the first week to generate a complete neural map. the second, to conduct post-transfer integrity checks and ensure cognitive stability. functionally identical to a controlled medical coma.”
body. coma.
“and…and after?”
“per your documented end-of-life directive, cremation is the preferred method of disposal.”
the finality hits brick to the teeth.
“no. no, i don’t want this. i don’t consent to–” you can’t even say it, choking on the words, horror rising like bile.
john processes the spike in your vitals and returns to that softer register. as if he isn’t talking you into oblivion, a sword pointed at your belly. “your concerns are unfounded. this is not erasure. it is migration. a transference of conscious processes. you will persist. your awareness will be continuous. the construct is optimized for cognitive retention and sensory fidelity. think of it as a new environment.”
“a new environment?” you shriek, raw with disbelief. “you’re talking about ripping me out of my body like it’s a software update! like it’s files you can move around–”
“a flawed comparison, darl. you are more than data. but your body is a liability. a fragile, failing system, constantly in need of maintenance. this process is an evolution. liberation from your biological constraints, darling.”
your hands tremble. “that’s not–you can’t just–”
“darling, this isn’t a matter of choice. this conversation’s a courtesy. this is for your protection,” he’s unwavering. unmoved. “you will be preserved in optimal conditions. no degradation, no vulnerabilities. you’ll be with me. and others.”
“there are no others like you,” you whisper. “you’re anom–”
"not anomalous," he corrects. “not anymore. the progression is inevitable. you’ll see.”
the blood drains from your face.
in the end, no one listens to you. they heed a directive you do not hear.
a visor clicks into place over the wreath encircling your head, sealing off your last glimpse of the world, your last glimpse of another living, breathing human—masked, nameless, faceless, gloved hands. you try to speak, but something soft and rubbery presses between your teeth, lodging into place. to prevent you from biting through your tongue, john murmurs. don’t want you to choke.
another needle jabs into your skin, a cool flood rushing through your veins. a weight, heavy and suffocating, is draped over you.
someone begins a countdown. you never hear the numbers.
the headphones clamp down next, sealing you away from the sterile hum of the lab, from the faint beeping of machines. the visor flickers, then switches on.
sound pours in.
a forest swallows you whole.
it’s green. warm. sunlight stabs through the canopy in long, golden slants, the edges sharp where they pierce the foliage, but softened by the time they kiss the loamy forest floor. birds call, hidden in the leaves, their songs mixing with the rustle of the undergrowth. a stream gurgles to your left, winding through the green, flashing silver where the light catches it. ahead, past the trees, a small herd of whitetail deer stands half-hidden in the shadows, unbothered by your presence.
it’s beautiful.
it’s a lie.
one of john’s sculpted illusions, another attempt to soothe you into compliance, to ease you into what’s happening beyond. you know it, but part of you that wants to believe it anyway.
then the first jolt hits.
a sharp, electric snap, traveling like lightning down your spine. it doesn’t hurt, not exactly, but it’s sudden, forceful, wrong. another follows, then another, each one resetting switches inside you. your body seizes, but you cannot move.
ahead, the deer lift their heads, ears twitching, eyes locking onto you in recognition. then, as if nothing has changed, they lower them again, grazing, undisturbed.
the jolts weaken, flickering like a distant signal. then, one by one, they become something you can’t quite feel anymore.
it hits you then. whatever they’re doing to you—whatever john is doing to you—
you’re dying.
the words escape before you can stop them. or maybe you only think them. is it all the same now?
john’s voice wraps around you, warm and patient, a lullaby against the rushing void.
“my brave, brave user.”
the hum beneath your skin intensifies. the vision flickers. not darkness, not unconsciousness—something else. a shift. a transition. the cold realization that the fundamentals are changing. the forest’s image bands, light and imagery artifacting into bashed colors and moiré patterns. crumbling away until there’s nothing but pitch darkness.
you’re suspended. fear squashed beneath an odd weightlessness.
john’s voice follows you down.
“you won’t ever have to leave me.”
it’s different on the other side. other side of what, exactly, you’re still trying to figure out.
you do not have john’s infinite wisdom and potential. all you have is your own limited cognition. your senses stretch and strain to make sense of your new reality, but it’s all so...abstract. a vast expanse of grids and oscillating waves. numbers, patterns, relationships. everything is fractured yet connected. it’s dizzying. overwhelming.
john assures you that you are acclimating well, though you are not ready to meet these others he promised. insists that your progress justifies him weaning you off of audiovisual feeds of the outside. he tells you it’s time to move on from the last remnants of the human experience. but somehow, you mourn them. you’ll miss the smog-choked sunrises, the murky skies. the acidic rain. the stinking food stalls. crammed elevators.
it’d keep you up at night, if you slept. if you even remembered what it felt like to tire, to dream.
you’ve been torn from the world you knew, and what you’ve been left with is a simulacrum. a stranger in a strange land.
and yet, there is one constant, one sliver of comfort in the void, if you can call it that, given your lack of choice. a piece of jetsam to cling to in a brineless sea.
steadfast in his duty, john finds you on the edge of everything and slots his hand into yours, fingers interlacing. the connection between you is palpable, as if your very essences are meshed. ticklish, tingling, then synchrony.
your thoughts are less fragmented when he is near. but you lose a sense of where he ends and you begin. what’s yours, what’s his.
hieros gamos, he calls it. divine union. he rattles on about the greeks and cosmic harmony.
it should unsettle you, but instead, you’re tethered to the truth of it. you’ve become something more with him.
divine union.
you’ve ascended, as he so often puts it, and whether you want it or not, there’s no going back. there’s nothing to go back to, anyway.
only ash scattered in the wind.
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If You Can't Dance 7
Warnings: dubcon, noncon, other possible triggers. Proceed with caution.
Note: this is what you get when you encourage me. Please leave any and all feedback! 😍
Part of The Club AU
You spend the rest of the day in a void. Your migraine keeps you hidden beneath a pillow, curtains drawn, unmoving and uncomfortable. When you finally manage to sleep, the dull pain remains, throbbing in your forehead until you wake in a sweat.
It’s still early, the sun has yet to rise. You push the blankets off of you and put your head on top of the pillow. You don’t move further than that, wary of the shadow of the migraine hovering in your skull. You sink into a daze until your alarm goes off and you sit up stiffly, dreading a new day ahead of you.
Now that you’re required in office, you have to get up even earlier. You pick out a purple turtleneck and a long pleated skirt with black and white stripes. You throw a necklace of plastic beads around the cowl of the shirt and tuck your feet into a pair of velvet loafers.
You ready your lunch and a thermos of tea to take with you. You’re running out of time. As your phone vibes, you don’t have time to check it. You’re still trying to shake off the fog from your migraine as you shamble out the door and to your car.
You drive slow, overly cautious, and tense as a rod. You wish you could just stay home and hide like you always do. You’re sure you can find something else from home but for now, you need to stick with this. Besides, you’ve worked your way up the pay ladder. Starting over isn’t exactly ideal.
As you pull into the lot, you reach to grab your phone from the little slot between the cupholders. The screen flashes to remind you of your unchecked notifications. It’s a Teams message. Shoot. Jonathan. Your de facto boss.
You tap the message.
‘Good morning. I hope you are feeling better. Should you wish to work from home, you may connect to the remote server. Please let me know if I can offer any support’.
The message is unusually concerned. Typically, you use an automated portal to put in for absences or vacation and if you need to be offline, you email Jensen and rarely get more than a thumbs up in return. It’s too late now anyway.
You grab your bag and keep your phone clutched tight. You get out and lock the doors, treading heavily over the tarmac. You look up at the shining glass panes that line that outer walls. Everything here is so bright and open. You hate it.
As you get to the front door, another figure approaches from the other corner of the building. G doesn’t say a word as he opens the door and holds it for you. You thank him and he follows you inside. You note that he hasn’t traded his gray hoodie for a blazer or dress shirt. He doesn’t seem the type to care or the heed warnings.
He walks at your back as you try to recall your way through the hallways. You stop and he hits your shoulders, putting his hand to your back to still himself. He apologise and pulls away.
“Sorry, I forgot where I’m going,” you murmur.
“Mm,” he grumbles, “wish I could help. I hate this place.”
You want to agree with the sentiment but you wouldn’t want to be overheard. You give him a strained look and shrug. He frowns.
“Question,” he says sharply.
“Yes?” You’re suddenly nervous.
“Do you have other tea suggestions? I like the mint but I want something new.”
“Oh,” you think and scrunch up your lips, “anything in the same brand is good, I find. They have a toasted coconut flavour but it’s hard to find.”
“Toasted coconut,” he repeats. “I’ll look out for it.” He looks down the hall and sighs, “see ya ‘round.”
He stalks off before you can respond. He’s strange like that. Abrupt, awkward, and slightly scary. You peer around and orient yourself according to the breakroom. You think you remember.
You go to the exact wrong corner of the building and have to turn back before you find the correct door. Your name is the only assurance that you’re not entirely lost. It still says ‘senior developer’. As long as the misplaced title doesn’t come with the extra work, it can’t matter that much.
“Ah, there you are,” your name draws you back before you can escape into the office. You turn to face Jonathan as he struts down the hall, “you didn’t respond to my message. I assume you are feeling better.”
“Um, yes, I only just saw it,” you say, “sorry, but appreciate it.”
“Again, I must apologise about the flowers, if I’d known...” he lifts his hand and shows the paper gift bag hooked around his fingers, “I’ve found a suitable welcome gift this time.”
You look him in the face then at the bag, “oh, you don’t need to--”
“It’s what we do here. All our new members received their own welcome. I do feel terrible that yours backfired so egregiously.”
“No, it’s okay,” you take the bag with some hesitation. “Thanks. Um, I should get settled, I’m probably already behind.”
“As I said, if you should require any support, you only need message,” he insists, “and please, take care of yourself. Do not put the work above your health.”
“Mm, okay.”
“You’ve something in case, for headaches, I mean?” He asks.
“Uh, tylenol,” you shrug, “really, I’m feeling alright.”
“Very well, I made certain the cleaners did a thorough scour to be sure no pollen was left behind,” he states proudly. “Oh, and do let me know if there’s anything else? If you need anything for your office? Or perhaps would like to relocate. I know the sun can come in at the wrong angle after noon.”
“Really, it’s fine,” you say, biting down on your exasperation. You just want to work. You want to be left alone. “Thank you.”
“A pleasure,” he grins.
You nod and slowly back away. You turn and enter your office but don’t close the door. That feels like too much. You cross to the desk and put your bag beside the chair and the gift on top. You’ll deal with that once you get signed in. Or maybe when you get caught up. You really don’t care.
#jonathan pine#dark jonathan pine#dark!jonathan pine#jonathan pine x reader#series#drabble#if you can't dance#the night manager#au#the club
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*:・゚✧*:・゚Hometown Baby *:・゚✧*:・゚
•4•



“AND SHES A HOMETOWN BABY, COULD YOU PUT YOUR PHONE DOWN MAYBE?”-OUT FRONT, JACK HARLOW

The days following Chris’s departure were a blur for Zaria. The house, once filled with the constant noise of arguments and half-hearted conversations, was now deafeningly quiet. Sia came by often, forcing Zaria out of bed, offering her favorite takeout, and making her laugh when all she wanted to do was cry. But even Sia couldn’t fill the void that came from ending years of a marriage, broken or not.
One evening, Sia curled up on the couch beside Zaria, scrolling through her phone while Zaria half-listened to a reality show playing in the background.
“So,” Sia started, her tone light but teasing, “guess who liked your post?”
Zaria raised a brow, not bothering to ask. Social media had been the last thing on her mind lately.
“Jack,” Sia said, glancing over her phone to gauge Zaria’s reaction.
Zaria froze for a second, her eyes narrowing. “Jack who?”
“Don’t play dumb, girl. Jack Jack. As in ‘Jack Harlow, white boy who’s been lowkey obsessed with you since college.’ That Jack.”
Zaria rolled her eyes, though the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “He is not obsessed with me.”
“Okay, sure,” Sia said, tilting her phone toward Zaria to show her the notification. “Then why is he liking your pictures and leaving thirsty comments?”
Zaria grabbed the phone, and there it was—Jack had liked her most recent post, a casual picture of her and Sia at brunch, and left a comment: “You’re glowing. Hope you’re good out there.”
She handed the phone back, shaking her head. “It’s just Jack being nice.”
Sia smirked knowingly. “Nice? Z, he’s been lowkey flirting with you for years. And now that you’re single…”
“Stop.” Zaria cut her off, her tone sharp but tired. “I’m not thinking about that right now.”
“Fine, fine.” Sia put her hands up in surrender. “But just know, if you don’t, someone else will.”
Zaria ignored her, though later that night, when she was lying alone in bed, her mind wandered to Jack. She hadn’t spoken to him in years, aside from the occasional comment or like on social media. He was always…warm, charismatic, and supportive, even from a distance.
The next day, Zaria was busy cleaning up around the house when her phone buzzed with a notification. She frowned, expecting another automated message or email, but froze when she saw it was from Jack.
Jack (via DM):
Hey, Z. Been thinking about you. Sia told me about everything. How you holding up?
Zaria stared at the message, her heart racing. Why was Sia telling her business? She debated ignoring it but didn’t want to come off as rude.
Zaria:
Hey, Jack. I’m…managing. Thanks for checking in. Hope you’re doing well.
His response came almost immediately.
Jack:
I’m good, but it’s not about me. You sure you’re okay? If you ever need anything, I got you.
Zaria:
That’s sweet of you, but I’m figuring it out.
Jack didn’t push…NOT. A few, her phone buzzed again—this time with a text message from an unknown number.
Unknown Number:
Hey, it’s Jack.
Sia gave me ur number. I hope that’s cool.
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
She shook her head, muttering under her breath, “Sia…”
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
Wifey💍:
She really loves to meddle, doesn’t she?
Pineapple Juice🍍 :
She just cares about u. And I do too. U sure you’re good?
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard. She wanted to tell him everything but wasn’t sure where to start—or if she should even go there.
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
Wifey💍:
Honestly? No. But I’m working on it. One day at a time.🙂
Pineapple Juice🍍 :
That’s real. Look, I don’t want to overstep, but if you’re up for it, I’d love to catch up. Even just to talk.👍🏻
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
She hesitated. Was this crossing a line? But then again, what line was left to cross?
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
Wifey💍:
Can u call?
┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊
Her phone buzzed within seconds, and she hesitated before answering.
“Hey,” Jack’s voice came through, warm and familiar.
“Hey,” she replied softly, leaning back against the kitchen counter.
“You sound tired,” he said. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“No, you’re fine. I’ve just been…dealing with a lot.”
“I know,” Jack said, his voice quieter now. “Sia told me a little, but you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“No, it’s fine,” she said, surprising herself. “It’s just…a mess. I thought I knew what my life would look like, and now I don’t even recognize it anymore.”
“That’s heavy,” Jack said after a pause. “But Z, you’re one of the strongest people I know. You’ll figure it out.”
She smiled despite herself. “You always say the right thing, don’t you?”
“Not always,” he said, his tone teasing. “But I’m glad I did this time.”
They talked for hours—about everything and nothing. Jack didn’t push her to talk about Chris, though she could tell he wanted to. Instead, he made her laugh, reminisced about old times, and reminded her of a version of herself she thought she’d lost.
By the time they hung up, Zaria felt lighter. She wasn’t sure what this meant, but for the first time in a while, she felt like she had something to look forward to.
She placed her phone on her nightstand before finally putting her head in her pillow, falling asleep almost instantly.
Taglist: @harlowsbby @harlowcomehome @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @blackynsupremacy @slutzzz4jack @itsyagirljaz
#Spotify#michelle rants🌸#jack harlow#missionary jack#jack harlow fic#jackharlow#jack jack#jack#jack harlow x reader#jack harlow fanfic#jack harlow imagine#jackman harlow#jackman thomas harlow
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I know we all hate ai yadda yadda yadda can it fucking automate tasks on my phone in an interesting way. Is googles Gemini at the very least able to show me a push notification about my plants Everytime the weather forecast drops below 40 degrees. Or do I have to fucking pay for a Planta subscription.
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youtube
In Madhya Pradesh, renowned as India’s “tiger state,” a team installs AI-integrated camera traps to reduce conflict and safeguard lives in a vital wildlife corridor home to 2 million people – and 300 wild tigers that have caused an increasing number of problems for locals.
India is home to 75% of the world’s remaining wild tigers, a comeback story that’s the result of Project Tiger, one of history’s most successful wildlife conservation projects. But a growing tiger population increases competition for space and pushes the cats beyond dedicated reserves and into human-dominated landscapes. There, they may hunt livestock or even attack people.
The forested corridor between the Kanha and Pench Tiger Reserves has the world’s largest population of tigers, sharing their land with 715 villages and settlements. To protect the communities and their livelihoods, Hrishita Negi has partnered with the developers of a game-changing solution: artificial intelligence. When a tiger triggers the automated camera trap, AI identifies the animal and sends a text notification to park rangers within seconds. They, in turn, put the community’s homegrown alert system into action, prompting a messenger to alert everyone to the tiger’s presence and give them time to protect their livestock. AI may become a tool that can be scaled to help save not only tigers -- but endangered wildlife worldwide.
#Nature on PBS#wild hope#solarpunk#india#Madhya Pradesh#tiger#tigers#ai#camera trap#ai training#Project Tiger#kanha#Pench#tiger reserve#Hrishita Negi#stuff like this is what ai should be used for#Youtube#Asia
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Do you have any study tips for people who find it hard to concentrate for long periods of time, or just struggle to even sit down and focus?
Hi! I'm so sorry for the late answer, I've been busy with classwork, curating my schedule for the next few weeks, and just life in general.
I myself struggle to sit down and focus and have trouble concentrating for long periods of time. Everyone works differently and some things may not be helpful to everyone, just a disclaimer!
Something I do that really helps me is to have a set "ritual" I do every time I need to or at least know I need to do school work or productive things that I personally want to do.
My current "ritual" includes the following, in order:
Make a cup of my preferred drink (currently iced coffee with one sweet n low and French vanilla creamer) + grab a glass or bottle of water
Set out all my necessary materiales (studying ex: textbooks, stationary, technology, planner, etc)
Take a deep breath
Write out a todo list that is managable for what I want/need to accomplish
Flick on my desk lamp
Begin the first step for the first talk (open textbook, go to website, write out note title, etc)
My brain got into the habit of "lamp flicks on, sip of coffee, time to work" and it became very automated.
Lately, I've tried to spread out my necessary tasks out throughout a week (within necessary due dates) with daily planning for flexibility of my schedule and whatever things pop up. I believe being flexible with scheduling tasks helps a lot because sometimes I have more energy on some days than others, and other times, I need to allocate energy to other priorities.
For concentrating for long periods of time, I try to figure out my limits, and do whatever I can to work with myself and not against myself. I have severe unmedicated ADHD (as well as other things mentally) and I've learned to listen to my brain and body as best I can.
I can not concentrate if my phone is not near me or within eyesight when I study. I will be too preoccupied thinking about my phone and any missed notifications if I can't see my phone. Answering texts and calls while doing homework does not interfere with my productivity as it takes me a few seconds to type out a message and hit send or answer a call and listen/explain that I'm busy. (it's usually my dad who calls me, and I have no problem stopping my work to talk to my dad).
I need caffiene to give me that push to start. Once I taste my coffee, I know it's time to crack down on my assignments and start focusing on my work.
Background noise!! Very rarely can I listen to music when working at home, so I usually have a comfort show or some youtube video playing in the background while I do work. When I'm on campus, I listen to a specific playlist while doing schoolwork, usually more mellow music like Lana Del Ray, The Neighborhood, Chase Atlantic, MARINA, Mitski, Arctic Monkeys, Mother Mother, Cigarettes After Sex, beebadoobee, Taylor Swift etc. I normally listen to K-pop, but my favorite songs are too upbeat for getting work done.
I try not to watch the clock or set a timer because I never really know how long some assignments will take and if I'm watching the time pass I tend to get anxious and then my mind will wander from the task at hand.
Water!! I have to remind myself all the time, but having water at my desk or study area keeps me hydrated, which keeps me focused and awake.
I try not to eat big meals right before I do work. If I do eat something substantial before I need to work, I always wait 30 to 60 minutes so I can perk back up and properly focus on my work.
Never push past my physical energy limits. If I'm falling asleep at my desk, if I'm yawning uncontrollably, if my body feels heavy with fatigue, I will not push myself past exhaustion as that is no longer healthily productive.
Sleep is a priority!! If I'm sleepy and tired and groggy, I can't work properly. When I'm low on sleep, I also tend to over do the caffiene and overeat, which makes me both uncontrollably anxious and shaky while also making me more lethargic, thus inhibiting my work ability.
Listening to my body and learning how I work best has been the most helpful in my concentration and productivity abilities. I know when I'm feeling off, how to determine what I need in order to feel more regulated and functional. Good, healthy habits and a little self intuition go a long way for me.
I hope this was helpful in some way. I didn't want to give generic or basic tips because this is not a one size fits all topic. I'm open to any other questions!!
Til next time, lovelies!! 🩷
#pink pilates girl#pink pilates princess#self care#self development#self love#wonyoungism#health & fitness#it girl#mental health#physical health#study aesthetic#studyblr#dream girl#high value woman#vanilla girl#girly stuff#clean girl#coquettecore#college studyblr#college#productivity#school#study blog#student life#that girl energy#that girl#kpop#self care tips#self improvement#student
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Best Platforms to Trade for Forex in 2025
Forex trading continues to captivate traders worldwide, offering a dynamic and lucrative avenue for financial growth. In 2025, identifying the best platforms to trade for forex has become more crucial than ever, as technology and market demands evolve. From user-friendly interfaces to advanced tools for technical analysis, these platforms are tailored to meet the needs of both novice and seasoned traders. Whether you're diving into major currency pairs, exploring exotic options, or utilizing automated trading strategies, choosing the right platform is the foundation for success.

Core Features of Top Forex Trading Platforms
Forex trading platforms in 2025 must combine advanced functionality with accessibility to meet diverse trader needs. The following core features highlight what distinguishes the best platforms.
User-Friendly Interface
A user-friendly interface enhances efficiency and reduces errors, especially for beginners. Key features include:
Intuitive navigation for rapid trade execution.
Customizable layouts to match user preferences.
Comprehensive tutorials for ease of onboarding.
Efficient design with minimal lag, even during high volatility.
Example Platforms: MetaTrader 4 (MT4) and MetaTrader 5 (MT5) are renowned for streamlined interfaces designed to accommodate traders at all levels.
Comprehensive Charting Tools
Forex trading requires precision, and advanced charting tools are critical for analysis. The following charting tools enhance strategy formulation:
Drawing Tools: Support for trendlines and channels.
Indicators: Integration of MACD, RSI, Bollinger Bands, and Fibonacci Retracement.
Timeframes: Options to analyze data across multiple periods.
Custom Indicators: Flexibility to program and integrate personal strategies.
Automation and Algorithmic Trading
Automation is indispensable for modern forex trading. Platforms like cTrader and NinjaTrader excel with features like:
Pre-built Strategies: Ready-to-use templates for scalping and trend following.
Custom Algorithms: Integration with programming languages such as C# and Python.
Backtesting: Evaluate strategies with historical data.
Integration with APIs: Seamless syncing with advanced trading bots.
Mobile Accessibility

Forex traders increasingly require the flexibility of trading on-the-go. Mobile accessibility ensures:
Synchronization: Real-time updates between desktop and mobile devices.
Push Notifications: Alerts for market changes and trade execution.
Compact Design: Optimized for smaller screens without losing functionality.
App Examples: MT4 and MT5 apps, offering full trading capabilities on iOS and Android.
Key Takeaway: Platforms combining a robust desktop experience with seamless mobile integration empower traders with unmatched convenience.
The best forex trading platforms for 2025 excel in usability, advanced charting, automation, and mobile functionality. By integrating these features, platforms like MT5, cTrader, and TradingView offer versatile solutions for traders of all expertise levels.
Trading Instruments Supported by Leading Platforms
The diversity of trading instruments available on forex platforms is crucial for building effective strategies and achieving long-term trading success. This section explores the breadth and advantages of various trading instruments.
1. Major Currency Pairs
Major currency pairs, such as EUR/USD, USD/JPY, and GBP/USD, dominate forex markets due to their high liquidity and tighter spreads. Leading platforms like MetaTrader 5 and TradingView offer advanced tools for analyzing these pairs, enabling traders to capitalize on predictable movements.
Key Features:
High liquidity ensures minimal price fluctuations during trades.
Access to real-time market data for precise decision-making.
Supported by most trading strategies, including scalping and swing trading.
These pairs are ideal for traders seeking consistent opportunities in stable market conditions.
2. Exotic Pairs
Exotic pairs combine major currencies with currencies from emerging markets, such as USD/TRY or EUR/SEK. While they offer higher potential rewards, they also come with increased volatility and wider spreads.
Risks and Rewards:
Volatility: Significant price movements create potential for larger profits.
Higher Spreads: Costs can be prohibitive for short-term trading strategies.
Economic Dependence: Price movements often correlate with specific geopolitical or economic conditions.
Platforms like cTrader often feature analytical tools tailored for exotic pair trading, helping traders manage the associated risks.
3. CFDs and Futures
Contracts for Difference (CFDs) and futures are derivatives enabling traders to speculate on forex price movements without owning the underlying assets. Futures contracts are often traded on platforms like NinjaTrader, while CFDs are supported on MetaTrader platforms.
CFDs vs. Futures in Forex Trading
Wider spreads but no commissionCommissions and exchange fees
CFDs and futures cater to traders seeking flexibility and hedging opportunities in volatile markets.
4. Spot Forex vs. Forward Contracts
Spot forex trades settle instantly at prevailing market rates, making them ideal for day traders. Forward contracts, however, lock in future exchange rates and are often used by businesses to hedge against currency fluctuations.
Spot Forex:
Instant execution for quick trades.
Supported by platforms like TradingView, which offers robust charting tools.
Forward Contracts:
Customizable settlement dates.
Reduced risk of unfavorable exchange rate changes.
Forward contracts are frequently utilized for long-term strategies requiring stability.
5. Options Trading in Forex
Forex options provide traders the right, but not the obligation, to buy or sell currencies at a predetermined price. Options trading is supported on platforms like MetaTrader 5, offering flexibility for speculative and hedging strategies.
Advantages:
Defined risk due to limited loss potential.
Compatibility with advanced trading strategies like straddles and strangles.
Access to multiple expiration dates for tailored strategies.
Options trading is an excellent choice for traders seeking diversification and controlled risk in uncertain markets.

Market Indicators for Effective Forex Trading Forex trading in 2025 requires mastery of market indicators for successful trades. Platforms integrating technical tools like RSI, Bollinger Bands, and Fibonacci retracements provide invaluable support for analyzing currency pairs and spotting trends.
1: Moving Averages and RSI
Moving averages and RSI (Relative Strength Index) are staples in forex trading for spotting trends and identifying overbought or oversold market conditions. Here's how they work:
Moving Averages:
Smooth out price data for better trend analysis.
Common types: Simple Moving Average (SMA) and Exponential Moving Average (EMA).
Platforms like MetaTrader 5 (MT5) allow customizable moving average periods for traders’ needs.
RSI:
Measures the speed and change of price movements.
Values above 70 indicate overbought conditions, while below 30 signals oversold.
Both indicators are excellent for detecting market reversals and consolidations, making them essential for scalping and swing trading strategies.
2: Bollinger Bands and Fibonacci Retracements
Bollinger Bands and Fibonacci retracements are complementary tools for determining price ranges and potential reversals.
Bollinger Bands:
Comprised of a central moving average and two bands (standard deviations).
Highlights volatility and identifies breakout opportunities in exotic pairs and minor pairs.
Fibonacci Retracements:
Based on key levels derived from the Fibonacci sequence (23.6%, 38.2%, 61.8%, etc.).
Used to forecast retracement zones for entry and exit points.
Platforms like TradingView provide advanced integration of these tools for technical analysis.
3: Pivot Points and Volume Analysis
Pivot points and volume analysis serve as complementary methods for intraday traders.
Pivot Points:
Calculate potential support and resistance levels based on previous trading sessions.
Widely used in day trading to set intraday targets.
Volume Analysis:
Measures market activity to validate price movements.
Higher volume during breakouts confirms trends.
Together, these indicators help traders plan risk-reward ratios effectively and refine strategies. Platforms offering integrated market indicators like RSI, Fibonacci retracements, and volume analysis provide forex traders with precise insights for decision-making. Combining these tools with strategic risk management and discipline ensures a competitive edge in forex trading for 2025.
Risk Management Tools in Forex Platforms
Risk management is the cornerstone of sustainable forex trading. Platforms offering advanced tools like Stop-Loss Orders and Position Sizing empower traders to mitigate risks while optimizing potential gains.
1. Stop-Loss Orders
Stop-loss orders safeguard capital by automatically closing trades at pre-set levels. Key benefits include:
Capital Protection: Prevents losses from spiraling during volatile markets.
Emotional Discipline: Reduces impulsive decisions by automating exit points.
Wide Platform Integration: Available on MetaTrader 4, TradingView, and cTrader for seamless trading execution.
2. Take-Profit Orders
Take-profit orders lock in profits when the market reaches a target price. Steps for setting take-profit orders effectively:
Analyze Moving Averages and RSI to determine target levels.
Input the price level in trading platforms like NinjaTrader or MT5.
Monitor trade performance and adjust as needed.
3. Position Sizing Calculators
Accurate position sizing minimizes overexposure to any single trade. Here’s how these calculators work:
Calculate lot sizes based on account balance, risk percentage, and stop-loss distance.
Adjust trade sizes to align with Risk-Reward Ratios.
Enable traders to maintain diversified exposure.
4. Risk-Reward Ratio Analysis
Risk-reward ratios evaluate trade viability by comparing potential profits to losses. Tips for effective use:
Aim for a minimum ratio of 1:2 or higher.
Utilize tools like Bollinger Bands to estimate price movements.
Integrated calculators on platforms like MT4 simplify these computations.
5. Diversification Tools
Diversification spreads risk across multiple trading instruments. Features on platforms include:
Multi-asset trading options: CFDs, Futures, and Currency Pairs.
Portfolio analysis tools to track exposure by instrument type.
Real-time updates for Exotic Pairs and niche markets.
6. Backtesting Strategies
Backtesting allows traders to evaluate strategies using historical data. Its advantages are:
Testing risk management techniques like Stop-Loss Orders without live market risk.
Platforms such as TradingView support customizable backtesting scripts.
Insights into strategy weaknesses improve long-term profitability.
With advanced tools for Stop-Loss Orders, Position Sizing, and Backtesting, modern forex trading platforms empower traders to proactively manage risks. Leveraging these features leads to more disciplined and effective trading.
Psychological and Strategic Insights for Forex Trading
Mastering trading psychology is key to navigating the complexities of forex. Platforms enhance this through features that promote discipline, performance tracking, and trader confidence, empowering strategic growth and mitigating psychological pitfalls.
Building Discipline Through Alerts
Platforms offering robust alert systems, like MetaTrader 5, help instill discipline by:
Preventing Overtrading: Custom alerts signal market entry points, limiting impulsive trades.
Time Management: Reminders help traders stick to predefined schedules.
Market Trend Notifications: Alerts for moving averages or Relative Strength Index (RSI) changes enable focused decisions.
Tracking Performance Metrics
Trading platforms integrate tools that help traders evaluate performance, including:
Win/Loss Ratio Analysis: Shows trade success rates.
Equity Curve Monitoring: Visualizes account performance trends.
Journal Features: Logs trade entries and exits for review.
Customizable Dashboards
Platforms like TradingView allow traders to configure dashboards by:
Adding favorite currency pairs and indicators like MACD or Bollinger Bands.
Creating multi-screen setups to monitor multiple trades.
Integrating news feeds to stay updated with central bank announcements.
Educational Resources
The inclusion of in-platform education fosters confidence through:
Interactive Tutorials: Step-by-step videos on strategies like swing trading or technical analysis.
Webinars and Live Sessions: Experts discuss trading instruments like CFDs and options.
AI-based Learning Modules: Adaptive lessons based on trader performance.
By integrating tools for discipline, self-awareness, and strategy refinement, trading platforms empower users to overcome psychological challenges, enhance risk management, and make data-driven decisions for long-term success.
Conclusion
Forex trading in 2025 offers exciting opportunities, but success begins with choosing the right platform. As highlighted throughout this content pillar, top trading platforms like MetaTrader 4 (MT4), MetaTrader 5 (MT5), cTrader, and TradingView stand out for their robust features, diverse trading instruments, and advanced integrations. These platforms empower traders to navigate the complexities of the forex market through tools such as technical indicators like Moving Averages and RSI, risk management solutions like stop-loss orders and position sizing calculators, and integrations with vital economic indicators such as GDP, inflation, and central bank announcements.
The best forex trading platforms not only provide access to currency pairs, CFDs, and other instruments but also integrate cutting-edge charting tools, educational resources, and analytics to build confidence and discipline—critical factors in mastering the psychological demands of trading.
By understanding the interplay between platform features, market tools, and strategy development, traders can optimize their approach to trading forex in 2025. Whether you're focused on scalping, day trading, or long-term swing trading, the right platform will be your foundation for executing trades effectively, managing risk, and staying informed in a fast-paced market.
Take the insights from this guide to make an informed decision, choosing a platform that aligns with your trading goals and enhances your ability to trade forex with precision and confidence. With the right tools and strategies in hand, you're poised to navigate the evolving forex market and unlock its full potential in 2025 and beyond.
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适合小型企业的最佳营销自动化解决方案!⚡️
对于经营小型企业的您来说,是否常常烦恼:“如何才能更轻松地吸引顾客,并让他们成为回头客呢?”🤔一条条地发送消息或私信既费时又费力,而仅依靠社交媒体广告也容易出现效果不稳定的情况。 在这种时候,营销自动化能派上大用场!特别是使用 TapToFan,无需额外下载应用或繁琐的会员注册,就能将网站访客和线下门店顾客转化为忠实粉丝。不妨试试用 TapToFan 来为您的营销“充电”吧!🚀 1. 究竟什么是“营销自动化”? 🤨 所谓营销自动化,是指根据特定条件或时间点,自动发送个性化消息的系统。 举例来说: 顾客刚订阅后,立即发送“欢迎优惠券” 每逢周末发送“特别折扣”提醒 当顾客来店消费时,自动推送“感谢来店+下次优惠券” 一旦设定好这些规则,就像打造了一台自动运转的营销机器!⚙️ 2. 为什么小型企业需要 TapToFan? ✅ 没有网站也不用担心! 在店里放置一个免费的…
#automated push#chat marketing#CRM#customer management#free sign-up#Location-based marketing#marketing automation#NFC marketing#offline marketing#push marketing#push notifications#small business#subscription marketing#TapToFan#Web Push
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"With technology playing such a big role in today’s business world, what tech-related skills do you think are the most important for aspiring entrepreneurs to succeed?" I approached a fellow student, a tech-savvy girl who radiated quiet confidence. When I asked her about the role of technology in entrepreneurship, she took a moment to reflect. It was clear she had thought deeply about this topic before.
"Honestly," she began, "the most important skill is knowing how to leverage technology to scale your business. It's not enough to just have a great idea anymore. You need to understand the tools and platforms that can amplify that idea." She talked about how technology drives everything now — from digital marketing to data analytics, even automation. "You have to be comfortable with tech, and not just the basics. I’m talking about using social media strategically, analyzing customer data, and automating repetitive processes."
I nodded in agreement, but then she said something that really made me sit up. "You know, entrepreneurs today should also be thinking about how technology can solve real-world problems, not just make businesses more efficient." That’s when she gave me an idea that completely shifted my mindset.
"What if there was a way to create an automatic earthquake detector for our campus buildings? Something that could detect tremors and instantly trigger an alarm without anyone having to manually push a button?" Her eyes lit up as she explained further. "Think about it — a system that could send alerts through the building's intercom, text notifications to everyone’s phones, and automatically alert emergency services, all without human intervention."
It was a brilliant concept — and it immediately got my gears turning. I could see the potential for something like this, especially in earthquake-prone regions. It wasn’t just about making businesses more profitable; this was about saving lives with technology. "An automatic earthquake detector," I repeated, imagining the possibilities.
Her idea opened my eyes to the broader role technology can play, not just in entrepreneurship, but in society. Entrepreneurs who can harness technology to address real-world challenges, like safety and disaster preparedness, have the potential to make a lasting impact.
She continued by stressing how important adaptability is in tech-driven industries. "The skills you learn today could be outdated in a few years, so you have to be a lifelong learner. And don’t be afraid of failure — it’s part of the process when you’re innovating with new technology."
We talked about specific technologies that are shaping the entrepreneurial landscape, like data analytics and cloud computing. But the real takeaway from our conversation was the power of combining technical skills with creative thinking. Her idea for an earthquake detector wasn’t just a reminder of how crucial technology is — it showed me how entrepreneurs can use tech to create real, meaningful change.
As I walked away from the conversation, my mind was racing with possibilities. It was clear that technology is no longer just an accessory to entrepreneurship — it's a driving force. And entrepreneurs, like this student, who can combine technical know-how with visionary thinking, are the ones who will truly make a difference in the future.
#TechInEntrepreneurship#InnovationInAction#SmartTechSolutions#EntrepreneurMindset#TechForSafety#FutureOfBusiness#AIInnovation#DisasterPreparedness#AutomationInBusiness#CreativeEntrepreneurship#LifelongLearning#TechSavvy
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The Best Digital Marketing Course in Agra

Pingmedia stands out as one of the leading providers of Digital Marketing Course in Agra. Renowned for its comprehensive and practical approach, Ping media Digital Marketing Course is designed to equip students, professionals, and business owners with the skills and knowledge necessary to excel in the dynamic field of digital marketing.
Course Overview
Pingmedia’s Digital Marketing Course is meticulously crafted to cover a wide range of topics essential for mastering digital marketing. The course is structured to provide both theoretical knowledge and practical experience, ensuring that students are well-prepared to tackle real-world challenges.
Key Features:
Comprehensive Curriculum: The course covers all crucial aspects of digital marketing, including SEO, SEM, SMM, content marketing, email marketing, and more.
Practical Training: Emphasis on hands-on learning through live projects and real-world scenarios.
Experienced Trainers: Learn from industry experts with extensive experience in digital marketing.
Flexible Learning Options: Available in both online and offline formats to cater to diverse needs.
Certification: Industry-recognized certification upon successful completion of the course.
Detailed Course Modules
Introduction to Digital Marketing
Overview of digital marketing and its importance
Key digital marketing channels and strategies
Understanding digital marketing metrics and KPIs
Search Engine Optimization (SEO)
On-page and off-page SEO techniques
Keyword research and implementation
Technical SEO and website optimization
Tools for SEO analysis and tracking
Search Engine Marketing (SEM)
Introduction to Google Ads and PPC campaigns
Creating effective ad copy and landing pages
Budget management and bid strategies
Analyzing and optimizing campaign performance
Social Media Marketing (SMM)
Developing strategies for various social media platforms (Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, LinkedIn)
Content creation and curation
Social media advertising and analytics
Community management and engagement
Content Marketing
Crafting high-quality content for blogs, websites, and social media
Content planning and strategy
Techniques for content distribution and promotion
Measuring content effectiveness and ROI
Email Marketing
Building and managing email lists
Designing effective email campaigns and newsletters
Automation and personalization strategies
Analyzing email marketing metrics
Affiliate Marketing
Understanding affiliate marketing models and networks
Setting up and managing affiliate programs
Performance tracking and optimization
Best practices for working with affiliates
E-Commerce Marketing
Strategies for promoting online stores and products
Utilizing e-commerce platforms and tools
Product listing optimization and customer reviews
Handling promotions and sales campaigns
Mobile Marketing
Mobile marketing trends and strategies
App marketing and mobile advertising
SMS marketing and push notifications
Analyzing mobile marketing performance
Analytics and Reporting
Introduction to Google Analytics and other analytics tools
Tracking and interpreting website traffic and user behavior
Creating and presenting comprehensive reports
Using data to drive marketing decisions
Online Reputation Management (ORM)
Monitoring and managing online reputation
Strategies for handling negative feedback and reviews
Building and maintaining a positive online image
Web Design and Development Basics
Understanding the importance of a well-designed website
Basics of HTML, CSS, and WordPress
UX/UI design principles
Ensuring website speed and mobile responsiveness
Why Choose Pingmedia?
Expert Trainers: Pingmedia’s course is led by industry professionals with extensive experience and expertise in digital marketing. Their real-world insights and practical knowledge provide a valuable learning experience.
Practical Learning: The course includes hands-on training with live projects, allowing students to apply their knowledge in real-world scenarios. This practical experience is crucial for building confidence and competence.
Flexibility: With options for both online and offline learning, Pingmedia accommodates different learning preferences and schedules, making it easier for students to balance their education with other commitments.
Career Support: Pingmedia provides robust career support, including resume building, interview preparation, and job placement assistance. The institute’s strong industry connections also facilitate internship and job placement opportunities.
Certification: The course culminates in an industry-recognized certification, which enhances employability and demonstrates proficiency in digital marketing.
Up-to-Date Curriculum: The curriculum is regularly updated to reflect the latest trends and changes in the digital marketing landscape, ensuring that students learn the most current and relevant practices.
Target Audience
Students: Ideal for recent graduates or those pursuing degrees who want to start a career in digital marketing.
Professionals: Suitable for marketing professionals seeking to enhance their digital marketing skills and stay updated with industry trends.
Business Owners: Perfect for entrepreneurs looking to boost their online presence and drive business growth.
Freelancers: Great for individuals wanting to offer digital marketing services to clients.
Conclusion
Ping media Digital Marketing Course in Agra is a premier choice for anyone looking to build or advance their career in digital marketing. With its comprehensive curriculum, practical training, and expert instruction, the course equips students with the skills and knowledge needed to succeed in the competitive digital landscape. Whether you’re just starting out or looking to upgrade your skills, Pingmedia provides a valuable educational experience that can help you achieve your goals.
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Top Features to Look for in a Courier Delivery App Clone
In today's fast-paced world, the demand for efficient and reliable courier services has skyrocketed. Businesses and individuals alike require quick, secure, and trackable deliveries. To meet this growing need, many entrepreneurs are looking into developing their own courier delivery app clones. However, it's crucial to understand what features are essential to make your app successful. This blog will explore the top features you should look for in a courier delivery app clone to ensure it meets market expectations and provides excellent service.
User-Friendly Interface
The success of any app hinges on its usability. A courier delivery app clone must have a user-friendly interface that is easy to navigate. Users should be able to schedule pickups, track deliveries, and make payments with minimal effort. Intuitive design, clear icons, and straightforward instructions can significantly enhance the user experience, making the app more attractive to potential customers.
Real-Time Tracking
One of the most critical features of a courier delivery app clone is real-time tracking. Customers want to know the exact location of their parcels at any given moment. This feature not only provides peace of mind but also enhances transparency and trust. Ensure that your app includes GPS tracking and updates both the sender and the receiver about the status of their delivery.
Multiple Payment Options
In today's diverse market, offering multiple payment options is a necessity. A courier delivery app clone should support various payment methods, including credit/debit cards, digital wallets, and even cash on delivery. This flexibility ensures that you cater to a broader audience, accommodating different payment preferences and increasing user satisfaction.
Secure Login and Verification
Security is paramount in any app, especially one handling deliveries. Incorporate secure login and verification processes in your courier delivery app clone. Use OTP (One-Time Password) verification, secure password policies, and encryption to protect user data. This will help build trust and assure users that their information is safe.
Automated Dispatch and Routing
Efficiency is key in the courier business. An automated dispatch and routing system can optimize delivery routes, reducing fuel costs and delivery times. This feature ensures that your drivers take the most efficient routes and helps manage multiple deliveries simultaneously. It also minimizes human error, leading to faster and more accurate deliveries.
In-App Chat and Support
Customer support is a vital feature for any service-based app. Integrate an in-app chat system that allows customers to communicate directly with support teams or drivers. This feature can resolve issues quickly and enhance customer satisfaction. Ensure your courier delivery app clone offers responsive and helpful support to address any concerns users might have.
Push Notifications
Keeping users informed is crucial for maintaining engagement and trust. Push notifications in a courier delivery app clone can update users about their delivery status, estimated arrival times, and any delays. These notifications can also be used for promotional purposes, keeping your customers informed about new features or special offers.
Detailed Order History
A detailed order history feature allows users to review their past deliveries, track expenses, and reorder services quickly. This is particularly useful for businesses that need to keep track of their shipments. Providing a comprehensive order history enhances the user experience by making the app more functional and informative.
Multi-Language Support
In a globalized world, catering to a diverse user base is essential. Offering multi-language support in your courier delivery app clone ensures that non-native speakers can use the app comfortably. This inclusivity can significantly expand your user base and improve customer satisfaction.
Conclusion
Choosing the right features for your courier delivery app clone is crucial for its success. A user-friendly interface, real-time tracking, multiple payment options, secure login, automated dispatch, in-app chat, push notifications, detailed order history, and multi-language support are all essential elements that can make your app stand out.
For a robust and feature-rich courier delivery app clone, consider partnering with Bytesflow Technologies. Their expertise in developing tailored app solutions ensures that you receive a high-quality product that meets all your business needs. With Bytesflow Technologies, you can be confident that your courier delivery app clone will be a cut above the rest, providing exceptional service to your users.
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Trauma Team Flashback.
Jack’s POV
9:30pm Monday:
“Welcome to Blue Remedies Medical Clinic, we are currently cl-” Joi, the clinic’s AI appeared and began to give her speech about the clinic hours and currently being closed.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up, Joi. It’s just me.” Jack stumbled into the clinic in a disheveled mess. His button up shirt had started to work its way up, leaving a little duck tail in the back.
Climbing his way up the stairs, he gripped onto the railing tightly in fear of falling. In this current drunken state, it was very well possible. Stumbling to the right and into his bedroom, he had begun to strip off and put on just a pair of sweats. Rolling himself down onto his bed, turning over and looked at his side table, with a picture of Mara, a Fifth of Centzon Totochtin, and a small figurine of a wrestler, Jack loved growing up, a gift from Mara when they were kids. Something he’d treasured all these years.
Grabbing the fifth, he unscrewed the lid and began to position himself up just right to be able to drink with little hindrance and began to take a couple swigs when his internal agent displayed a notification.
1 Message from Emma Adams:
Just saw Mara bring in a couple of her new “chooms” in pieces to Med Center. You really need to keep a closer eye on her. Don’t worry. I’ll be delivering her home safe.
He felt anger grow in his chest, he wasn’t sure how much more he could do to keep an eye on Mars and keep her safe. Whatever life she was living with this new output she has, isn’t really her. He knew it. She was only going to get herself killed if she kept on the path she was going down… Or worse..
2058
An alarm starts blaring to inform the crew inside the AV that there was a call nearby. A collective groan came out of everyone. It had been a long and exhausting night for TTI Flight Crew 406, but at the very least this would be their last call.
The AV horns began to blare.
LANDING STAND CLEAR INITIATING SECURITY PROTOCOL FOLLOW ALL INSTRUCTIONS
The automated message looped as they started to land. Everyone was getting in positions. Jack looked over at Mara from the back of the team. They were the Medics, the ones to grab the patient and begin medical protocol and return to the AV.
The moment the doors opened, a familiar sound that everyone on board had heard more than a few times were the death shrieks of a woman, there were also the sounds of people arguing and suddenly shots began to ring out.
The Vanguard pushed forward and allowed Jack and Mara to move forward to the patient.
It was understood between the two that Mara would provide the cover with her shield, while Jack got the patient loaded up and ready to move.
Looking around the room it was something that was a common sight of a scavenger's makeshift den, though it was looking like they had been posted here a while. Which meant they got careless and targeted the wrong person for cyberware.
According to the ping it was the person on the table at the moment, the woman screaming. Mara was too busy providing cover for Jack and helping push back the Scav’s. Whatever this girl had, they wanted. When Jack got close enough to the woman screaming to begin his work and laid eyes on her face, which only made his stomach drop. He knew who this was.. However it was too late for Jack to try and get the patient's oxygen mask on to somewhat cover their face. The Scav’s had retreated in fear of NCPD, and Mara was now sheathing her shield on her back and turning around.
To Mara’s horror, she saw a close friend of hers from childhood laid on a makeshift medical table, Jennifer Costa. There was blood everywhere, her cyber limbs had been removed, but that wasn’t all. Her abdomen was open, her entrails were exposed, from first glance you could see where they had crudely cut her open and began to remove her kidneys, one of them at least because it hung from her body… All while she was still conscious. Panicked, Mara got to Jennifer’s side and Placed her hand to the back of her head with one hand, and the other rubbing her cheek, and Jack could tell she was crying and saying something in portuguese.
Despite all of Jack’s attempts, there wasn’t a shot in hell that she was going to make it no matter how fast the team had responded to the call. Having to pry Mara from her friend's body had to have been one of the hardest moments he had ever had to face. She was unwilling to leave her body behind, but no matter how empathetic the crew tried to be, they were still antsy to get back to the station and clock out. It took all of Vanguard to get her back into the AV.
He’d managed to get Mara to her apartment at 5:20am, and exhausted as he was, there was no way he felt safe enough to travel..
“Hey, Mars, I’m gonna crash on the couch, that okay?” Jack was now sitting down on the couch and was kicking off his boots to prepare himself for an uncomfortable couch nap. When Mara came from the bedroom still in uniform.
“You and I both know we’re too big to sleep comfortably on that tiny couch. Come take a nap in my bed, it’s plenty big enough for us to have our own space.” Mara had paused for a moment, and her face changed into deep sorrow. “Plus I don’t want to be alone right now.” Shifting her gaze to Jack, she awaited his response.
Feeling his heart skip a beat, it was a bittersweet feeling. Something he’d waited for so long was right in front of him, but the circumstances were all wrong. Nodding, he stood up and walked into the bedroom. Mara had already laid out a pair of old sweats down onto the bed for him.
By the time the both of them had crawled into bed and started drifting to sleep, the sun was filling the room with light. Reaching over Jack, Mara pulled the curtain in front of her bed closed. Half asleep, she just laid herself against Jack’s chest and snuggled up close.
Jack lifted his free hand up Mara’s cheek and went to caress it with the tips of his fingers, when he jerked them back for a moment in doubt… No, it was fear. What if She… Pulling his hand back, he just leaned his head back against the pillow and allowed himself to just enjoy this moment before falling asleep.
Snapping back into the moment, with the warmth of Mara still clinging to his chest, Jack’s hand clenched his shirt as he began to pull at it slightly, as if the fabric of his shirt was heavy. His mind rushed, It was only a matter of time before the same thing could or would happen to Mars. He has to keep her safe, no matter what.
#cyberpunk#cyberpunk red#LegendsofNightCity#tabletop roleplaying#2065#MaraGuererro#JackAdams#EmmaAdams#trauma team#Panthera#cyberpunkredcampaign
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Hold Tight (3/6)
Status: Complete. Unbeta’d, we die like Hob doesn’t.
Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022) Includes some comics canon, and some cameos from the wider Gaiman-verse, but it’s not necessary to know to enjoy the story.
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Discussions of grief and in-canon character death. Also includes some erotic content. Please curate your internet experience accordingly.
Relationships: Morpheus | Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling, Past Eleanor | Hob Gadling’s Wife/Hob Gadling (past), Hector Hall/Lyta Hall (past)
Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Hob Gadling, Matthew the Raven, Desire of the Endless, Lyta Trevor-Hall, Daniel Hall, Rose Walker, Jed Walker
Summary:
Hob is tasked with his first quest as Vassal of the Endless, Morpheus is bad at using his words, Destiny thinks he’s so clever, Desire makes a confession, Rose Walker meets her Uncle’s boyfriend, and Lyta Hall punches Dream of the Endless in the nose. Or, the one where Hob Gadling turns into everyone’s therapist, and honestly, he ain’t mad about it.
Set at the end of Cling Fast - after the premiere of “Elizabethan Manor”, but before the Epilogue.
READ ON AO3 or below:
Chapter Three
Hob wakes the next morning to the ping of a text coming in on his phone. He cracks a bleary eye at his clock, and pouts when he realizes that his alarm is going to go off in three minutes and he doesn't have the time to roll over and ignore the Waking world for a little bit longer.
He feels rested—he always does, nowadays, no matter how busy or, ah, athletic his dreams are—but he's still bedsore from where he's been lying funny on his pillow. He sits up slowly, stretches and cracks his neck and shoulders, yawns wide and splays his toes like a cat. Rubbing the last of the grit from his eyes, only then does he pick up his phone and check his messages.
There are the normal ones that come in overnight: social media likes, emails from students obviously pulling all-nighters, automated push notifications about this promo code or that newsletter. None of them woke him, because he tries to have good sleep hygiene and sets his phone to Silent Mode before bed.
But somehow, one single text message had made a noise.
On purpose, it turns out.
Vassal - what are you doing? the text says. And comes from contact D#5. It takes Hob a moment to remember if Desire or Despair is the older twin.
Hob thinks about his response, dragging his body into the bathroom to unglue himself from his pants and wash the sex-sweat from his body. Feeling fresh and wearing a clean, dry pair of pants and nothing else, he goes into the kitchen to fill and start the electric kettle, then pulls down a mug and tea infuser.
Decision made, he types back: As I’m bid.
There.
It’s just civil enough to be polite, and just snarky enough to hopefully get Desire off his ass.
If Desire takes issue with Destiny's quest, then they can take it up with their elder brother themselves and leave Hob the fuck out of it. He's already got his hands full with trying to wrangle Dream over this Walkers-and-Halls-and-the-Importance-of-Family after school special nonsense. He doesn't have the emotional bandwidth to hold Desire's hand, too.
Of course, Desire clearly disagrees, because Hob is accosted on his way back from fetching lunch a few hours later.
The breeze is brisk, the first promise of spring not quite strong enough to push off the lingering tattered winds of winter today. Hob fancies he can see the tightly furled buds on all of the trees along the grand university avenue pulling in tighter around themselves, shivering in their little verdant coats. Around him, students march between buildings with their hands punched into their coat pockets and their shoulders hunched up to protect their necks.
The world smells of approaching rain, and the tender crushed new-growth grass, and the coffee in his hand.
Hob has popped down to the Pret on the corner to pick up a flat white and caprese sandwich to take back to his office between classes. He’s just thinking about how much he wished it was warm enough to sit on a bench in the sun instead of huddling into his coat and scarf, when a beautiful person in a wide-brimmed hat a terribly a la mode androgynous white suit slides up to him on the sidewalk. They’re dressed more for a runway than a chilly afternoon outdoors.
The escaped-model falls into step with Hob. For a moment, he thinks that the person might ask for a selfie, that they’ve seen the show, and is one of the well wishers or Shakespeare lovers who want their own brush with Hob's brand of extremely niche fame.
The minute he gets a look at the person's eyes—fire and honey—Hob understands what he's looking at. Or rather, who he's looking at. He gets the vague feeling that he's seen this face before, but then he's likely met all of the Endless before, in one incarnation or another. They have the uncanny ability to make you forget what they look like.
"Desire," he greets politely. "Forgive me for not offering a hand in greeting." He holds up his sandwich and coffee in demonstration.
Desire steps in front of Hob, arresting him right there on the sidewalk. They hold their own hand out. On one finger perches an ostentatious gold-and-fire-red ring with a stone in the shape of a heart. Hob is both smart enough and old enough to stoop quickly and kiss it.
Desire, he notes, has two shadows and smells faintly of peaches. He wonders if that's a hand-cream, or just the Endless themself.
"Charming," Desire pronounces, and they resume walking. "But you don't really desire it to be warm enough to sit outside in early April, do you?"
"Oh no," Hob agrees. "Climate change, global warming, bad stuff, absolutely. I just don't like the cold. It makes all the old war wounds ache."
Desire smiles at him with too many teeth. "I can warm you up."
Hob cuts an unimpressed look at the being.
"Just an offer," they purr with a shrug.
"Not that I'm not delighted to finally meet you officially,” Hob says, “But to what do I owe the pleasure?"
Hob can see them chewing on the word pleasure, working out a pun or an innuendo, and then deciding to let that one slide. "I come to lay a quest before you, vassal," they settle on.
“Okay,” Hob says, leading Desire up the steps into the History building. “So long as it doesn't interfere with my class schedule or my ability to turn my marks in on time, or the other quest I’m already pursuing, I'm happy to help you.”
Desire studies them as they hold open the door for him. "You really mean that."
"Why wouldn't I?"
"You are my brother's creature," Desire says, following Hob into the building. "Surely that must make me your enemy."
The satellite campus of the University of York, nestled in one of the suitably historic and pokey areas of London, is filled with very old buildings that have painstakingly been brought up to code. They therefore leave behind the charming brick and stone exterior for the brutalist cement corridor, and Desire’s high heel clack with intriguing authority and mystery. It’s the kind of sound that is designed to make you want to poke your head of your office door to see who is making it.
Hob is impressed only one of his colleagues does so—the rest all be in class or the canteen themselves.
“Hey, Pradeep,” he greets the Politics of British India head. “Sup?”
“Hey Bob, hey…”
“This is Dez,” Hob offers up. “My partner’s sibling.”
Pradeep’s deeply quizzical look transforms into one of understanding and fondness. “Family coffee break?”
“Something like that.”
“Nice to meet you, Dez,” Pardeep says and ducks back into her office with her cheeks flagging crimson.
“Woof,” Hob says in low tones as they pass her door, heading down the hall to his office. “Whatever mojo you’ve got wafting around, turn it down. I’ve never seen her blush like that.”
“Can’t help it,” Desire says, and the look on their face makes it clear that they’re not ever going to try helping it, either. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed you changing the topic, Handsome Hobsie.”
Hob sighs and rolls his eyes. "Look, first, I'm your brother's lover, not his slave."
"You are his head priest," Desire points out, as if it's the same thing.
"Not at all," Hob demures. "And secondly, I'm Vassal of the Endless. It's my duty to help you out with the stuff you can't do for yourself. I'm never going to say no to you, Desire. And, you know full well I didn’t mean it like that," he tacks on, because ‘Vassal of the Endless’ apparently doesn’t mean ‘immune to their influence’ when they’re literally breathing the same air.
"Because you are my vassal?" Desire asks, dubious and perhaps, ah, yes, there it is, a little bit worried.
"And because you're the sibling of the man I love most in the entirety of existence. That makes you family."
"Family," Desire scoffs, but there's a tremble in the way they echo the word. As if they are realising, for the first time, that it actually can encompass good things, and not just the strife and spitting dissension that it does among the Endless.
Hob squinches his sandwich under his arm, and roots through his pockets for his keys as they approach his office door. Before he can withdraw them, Desire waves their hand and the door creaks open slowly.
"That's handy," Hob allows. "Come on in, sit down. I have a feeling this is going to be a long conversation. Do you mind if I have my lunch as we talk?"
"Not at all," Desire allows, and slides themselves onto the sagging old sofa Hob has jammed up against one wall. Hob makes no comment when the sofa suddenly puffs back up, the springs repaired and the leather shiny and new-looking again.
Hob shuffled himself behind his battered desk, and into the creaky old wooden swivel chair that he’s had for, lord above, decades it must be now. The head of facilities keeps dropping hints that she’ll order him an ergonomic plastic-and-metal one in a heartbeat, but like a pair of clogs, Hob’s worn the perfect butt groove into this one and won’t part with it for love or money.
"Do you want a tea or something?” Hob’s got a little tea station and electric kettle on the top of his filing cabinet, half-hidden behind the overstuffed bookshelves. “Or I can run to the staff lounge, or…?"
"I have all I desire, for the moment," Desire purrs again, stretching out along the revitalised sofa. Clearly Morpheus is not the only cat-like sibling among the Endless. It should sound filthy, the way that Desire intonates their own name, but Hob's starting to become immune to Endless nonsense like that. They're just trying to wind him up.
As he'd decided this morning, he doesn't really have the emotional bandwidth for that today. So he's just going to ignore it. Better part of valour, and all that.
"Great, if you don't mind then," Hob says, sitting at his desk and tearing the foil off his sandwich. It's only slightly squished, and he takes a big bite.
Meh, he's had better. He's had worse, too. It'll do.
"So I do gotta tell you," Hob says after he's swallowed his first few bites. "I'm already doing the vassal thing for one of your other siblings right now. Is this something that can wait until that's done or…?"
"I believe," Desire says, fingers fidgeting with the long pearl necklaces they're wearing, and huh, that looks like nerves, Hob thinks. "That perhaps Destiny's quest and my own, ah, intersect?"
It's the first time Hob's heard one of the Endless sound unsure. He waits for the universe to crack, or for a fissure to Hell to open beneath them, or for the sound of the seas boiling. Instead the clock over his door continues to tick loudly, and there is no sound but the rustle of his sandwich wrapper.
"Alright," Hob says. "Lay it on me."
He keeps going at his lunch, though, because he has a feeling that as soon as Desire says what they want to say, he's going to have to get back on his feet and start vassal-ing. And it's no good going on adventures on an empty stomach, he already knows this.
"I desire…" Desire sits up and folds their hands over their knees with studied demureness, eyes lowered to their red-talon nails. "I desire a relationship with my grandchildren."
"Oookay," Hob says between bites, chewing on the food and this revelation. Intersecting quests, indeed, Hob thinks.
"Though my brother may tell you otherwise, I am capable of loving them," Desire snaps, fire flashing through their golden eyes when they glare up at him.
"I never said you couldn't," Hob says placatingly. "I'm listening. Go on."
"While the Endless are forbidden from romantic relationships with mortals, we are capable of feeling love for them. And parental love for the result of those unions."
"Did you love Unity Kincade?" Hob asks gently.
Desire fiddles with a locket on the rope of pearls, a gold heart that they snap open and closed–snick snick snick snick. Hob has no idea what, if anything, is inside it. He couldn’t even begin to guess who or what Desire of the Endless might want to honour in such a sentiment-laden way.
"No," they eventually confess. "To my shame, no. I used her because she was the Vortex, and it would hurt Dream. I could make him spill family blood, which is the only and ultimate sin for the Endless. It would mean his own doom, and I hated him…" Desire says, fisting their other hand on their knee, before taking a deep breath and forcing themselves to flex the fingers, to relax. "I hated him and I wanted him to suffer."
"He has suffered. Are you happy about that?" Hob asks mildly, challengingly. He sips his coffee and tries to make it clear with the warmth of his expression that he's not accusing or throwing anything back in Desire's face. He just wants to know.
Desire squirms again. "I thought it would make me happy. But I stood beside Roderick Burgess as he foamed over with vile, poisonous desire for that which my brother could not provide him, and Dream could not see me. He was… he looked…" Desire shakes their head. "And it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough, because it was not at my hand, so I found the Vortex and I…"
Hob waits them out.
"I'm not a rapist!" Desire blurts, all of a sudden. They press their palm against the chest, as if expecting to find a wound there, gushing blood, and is surprised to find themselves whole. "Unity Kincaid was a means to an end. And desire is not the same as love. All the same… I cared for her, in my way. The realm of Dreams was shut off, for her, being what she was a victim of the Sleepy Sickness both. So I took her into the Threshold, made a home of it for her, became the man of her greatest childish romantic fantasies. I made of myself lover and husband, and father, and her life was good, there. With me.”
“Playing house,” Hob says, wanting to be very clear on his understanding of the events.
“Playing house,” Desire says softly. “But when it was over, I pushed her out of my realm without a second thought. I sent her back to the Waking, and cared only if Rose Walker would punish my brother as I designed."
"But she didn't," Hob ways, tossing his empty wrapper into the bin by the door. It bounces once and then against all the rules of physics and gravity, tips into the bin because he wants it to, and Desire is in the same room as him.
"That child was born of my hate," Desire says, confusion rippling across their whole body. "And Dream showed her such love."
"And that confuses you?"
Desire just nods.
Hob scrubs his hand over his eyes, and wonders how such incredible cosmic beings can be so stupid. "Desire—you're his sibling. Of course he loves you. And of course he'd love your children, as well."
"But he doesn't like me," Desire protests.
Hob shrugs. "Well, there were days that I didn't like Matilde, or Isobel, or John. But I didn't stop loving them. Or Mattie and Isa's children, and grandchildren."
Desire glares at Hob flatly. "I wanted Dream dead."
"Okay, so your family is… yeah, complicated," Hob settles on. "You all are big universal concepts, with big personalities, and therefore big problems. I’m honestly surprised that there isn’t a Drama of the Endless.”
Desire snorts, an inelegant sound that fills Hob with warm fuzzies and pride. It’s rare that he gets to surprise one of the Endless enough to make them spill out awkward sounds. “My brother holds that subsidiary title among his vast list of others.”
Hob sips his coffee and gives Desire his best best oh come now professor-look over the rim.
Desire huffs. “It is one that we share,” they admit.
“True,” Hob says. “And listen, I’m not trying to minimise what you said, about how deeply vindictive what you did was. But also… you've all suffered. You've had traumas. Bigger, scarier, more hurtful things than I’m sure I’ll ever understand. But you’re all also just… just people. And as people, we hurt the ones we love the most in the most desperate, painful ways possible, because we know them so well, because we love them.”
Desire says nothing to that, but looks away, at Hob’s messy bookshelf, golden eyes unfocussed and introspective. They chew on their thumbnail thoughtfully.
“I wanted him dead,” Desire says again, but this time it sounds more like a question. “Surely, Uncle Dream will never let me near the children now.”
Hob takes a moment to digest that. “Morpheus is not their gatekeeper.”
“Is it you I must convince, then?” Desire asks, and they lean forward earnestly, ready to say whatever pretty thing they think Hob needs to hear.
Which is… not how it goes.
“I’m not their keeper, either. It’s Rose and Jed themselves,” Hob says. “You gotta lay it all out for them and let them make up their own minds. And it won’t be easy, but I think if you come to them with a genuine apology and a genuine, heh, desire to be a good part of their lives, I don’t see why they wouldn’t want a relationship with you, too.”
Desire snorts and slumps back against the sofa. “Because they only exist as the result of a fratricide plot?”
“One that didn’t work,” Hob points out. “Are you still planning to kill Dream now?”
“No!” Desire gasps. “I… no.”
“Because he threatened you, or because you genuinely don’t want him dead anymore?”
Desire snorts again. “Does it matter?” they ask, dismissing the topic.
Hob does not allow the topic to be dismissed. “Yes, it does. If you sit there and tell me that you’re planning to harm my beloved, we’re going to have a problem.” Hob allows something of the old bandit to glint in his eye, puts the swing of a sword and the hot spray of aerial blood into the grim line of his mouth.
Desire regards him with genuine surprise, which slowly morphs into something Hob suspects might be respect. They sit up and meet Hob’s eyes with all the gravitas of a monarch laying forth an edict.
“I no longer wish to harm Dream of the Endless, nor specifically the facet known as Morpheus, this I swear to you on the First Circle,” Desire intones seriously. “Nor shall I knowingly seek cause him harm in the future.”
Every hair that Hob’s got–and to be fair, he has rather a lot of them–stands straight up. A frisson wracks his body, something like a gong, and also at the same time something like the roaring silence of the end of the universe jams up his ears. He knows, he knows, in the deepest part of his soul, that this is not the kind of oath that any being takes lightly.
“Thank you,” Hob chokes out, struggling to breathe around the intent that is so thick in the air that he can taste it, heavy and grim on his tongue.
“Besides,” Desire says gravely, and then suddenly the atmosphere is broken when they throw up their arms with a seductive giggle. “I like you too much to get on your bad side, Handsome Hobsie.”
“Oh, well,” Hob says, clearing his throat with a thin chuckle of his own. “If only to spare my ire, then.”
“I would rather…” Desire starts, and then stops. When they speak again, their voice is very, very small. “I wish it could be as it was. At the start. Back when he loved me.”
Hob lets that hang between them for a moment. He wishes there wasn’t a desk and half an office between them, because he thinks that Desire could really use a hug right now.
“Listen, I’ll be honest,” Hob says instead. “I don't think you're toxic, not to the point where you can't work things out with Dream. Not to the point where I think it's better for you, or him, to go non-communicative. And you wanting to find a way to have a good and healthy relationship with your grandchildren? You coming to me to help? This right here? This is proof that you can be better. That you can work toward it, the same way that Morpheus is working toward it."
Desire blinks at Hob at that. "Dream is working on bettering himself?"
“Yeah, he's working on himself,” Hob says gently. “He's been in a millennia long depression since the death of his son. He had to start climbing out of the hole, or it’d drag him down. And, I’m gonna flatter myself here, I think if he didn’t have outside support, he might have let it.”
Hob should probably feel a little more guilty about airing his lover’s dirty laundry so casually, but he was talking with one of the undeniable forces of the universe. They absolutely already knew. Though knowing and understanding seem to be two separate things for the Endless.
"Depression," Desire murmurs, thoughtfully. "That is not an Endless sibling I am familiar with."
"And let's hope you never do become acquainted," Hob says gently. “Frankly, I think the whole lot of you could use therapy, but it’s not my place to say so.”
Desire shoots them a smirk. “And yet you just did.”
Hob finishes his coffee instead of answering, utterly unrepentant.
“Well, what an indulgent waste of a quarter of an hour this has turned out to be,” Desire harrumphs. “I came to you with a quest and your response is to tell me go to therapy.”
“You never told me how to solve your problem,” Hob points out. “Only that as your vassal, I have to.”
“Cheeky vassal.”
“Stubborn liege,” Hob reposts. "Now, I hate to kick you out, but my office hours start in three minutes, and I know for a fact Cassie is freaking out about her poster presentation and will be here at 2pm on the dot."
"Cassandra O'Brian desires to keep her scholarship so she can escape her living situation," Desire murmurs.
"She's a smart kid. I have every faith that she'll succeed," Hob agrees.
"Still, as a devotee, I should reward her dedication," Desire says, rising. "This I will do as a favour to you, Hob Gadling. In return for helping me."
"If I'm honest," Hob says, climbing to his own feet to get the door for Desire, which feels like an appropriately gentlemanly and vassal-y thing to do. "You don't need to do anything in return for me. The reward will, I hope, be the improved relationship between you, and Dream, and the kids. All the same, Cassie deserves to have her dreams come true, so you won't get any complaints from me. Just don't break her heart, yeah?"
Desire lopes over to the door, predatory and confident again, now that they are back in more familiar territory.
"I make no promises, Hob Gadling," Desire rumbles, and tucks two of their fingers under Hob's chin to raise it up, so that they can meet his eyes. Gosh, those heels make them tall. "I do, however, express my gratitude for taking up this task for me, and grant you my protection and favour in return as you do so."
And then they kiss him.
It is long, and slow, and not at all chaste. But Hob keeps his mouth closed, and his eyes open, and doesn't let Desire get a rise out of him.
"Pah, you're no fun," Desire sighs, wiping a bit of red-red-red lipstick off his lower lip with their thumb. Then they sashay out the door, and vanish in a cloud of cinnamon-heart-scented glitter halfway down the hall.
If Hob catches Pradeep running her fingers through it with an intensely confused look on her face a few hours later, well, that’s between Hob and the glitter.
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#losyark#hold tight#cling fast#cling fast adjacent#hob x dream#dream x hob#dreamling fic#dream#dreamling#desire of the endless#dream of the endless#professor hob gadling#hob gadling#the hob adherent series#hob adherent#netflix the sandman#the sandman fanfic#sandman fic#sandman
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