#ended up having way more to say then I thought
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thinking about the first time megumi calls you a pet name.
youâd been dating for a while, a few months at that point, but he was always reluctant to use a pet name for you.
he preferred to call you by your name or the nickname everyone gives you.
but maybe itâs yuji that changes his mind.
âwaitâ fushiguro, you donât call her baby? or sweetie? pookie maybe?? just y/n?â
ââŠthatâs her name.â
but the thought lingers for weeks and he starts thinking about all the things that you call him.
âhey, gumi!â
âhi, baby,â before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
âoh my god, gumi you have to see this!â
âthank you, sweet boyââ
since when did you start giving him pet names? perhaps itâs because it sounds so natural coming from you. you say cute pet names with such confidence behind them that he barely registers that youâre the only one who calls him those things.
there are a few failed attempts where the cute pet name he totally didnât spend hours thinking about in his dorm last night, gets stuck in his throat and he just ends up hiding his red face in the collar of his jacket.
pet names donât come naturally to megumi. before he met you, he thought pet names were sort of cringey and lame, that they sounded stupid.
but he feels so fuzzy when you say them, your smile bright and beaming, your sparkly eyes making him weak at the knees and the adorable pet name sending a jab right through his chest.
so thereâs a second attempt.
and a third,
and a fourth,
before he gets it out without stuttering over his words and wishing the floor would swallow him whole because you didnât hear him or it came out as a choked cough rather than an actual wordâ
âhi baby! i picked us up some pizza⊠i thought we could catch up on our watch list tonight.â
and megumi gulps back the lump in his throat, clammy hands clutching the material of his sweatsâ
âsounds good⊠babe.â
and you pause, a smile beaming across your face and you slowly turn to him.
âwhat was thatâ?â
ânothing.â
âno, what did you call me?â
âforget it.â
âwait, donât be embarrassed, gumi!â
âtoo late, iâm going to ask shoko for her strongest shit so i can forget what just happenedââ
and you giggle, tugging on his sleeve as he attempts to writhe away from you on the bed, pressing his face into the nearest pillow as you clamber over him with a cheeky smile.
âdid you call me a pet name mr. fushiguro?â
âand iâll regret it til i die.â
âoh, boo.â
safe to say he tends to stick with calling you your name or your offical nickname, but there are some rarer occasions where it slips out.
like when heâs unbelievably tired and sore from a day of sparring and missions, and he sneaks into your dorm and crawls into bed with you.
âlong day, hm?â
âmm, i feel better now though.â
and you stroke his hair, âget some sleep then, âkay?â
âmhm⊠thank you, baby.â
and you just smile against his hair, he doesnât realise what heâs said and itâs better that way, because it makes it a little more special.
#wrote this on my phone lol#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#x reader#megumi x reader#jjk megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fluff#megumi x reader fluff#megumi drabble
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an idea; a (bottom) male reader whoâs apart of an indie jpop boy group. The members are just you, a childhood friend, and three other people you met through college/random events. Your group was lucky one of the members comes from a rich family that doesnât mind spending some money to help you guys outâwaiting until a company finds interest and asks to manage you.
The first month or so is rough so you all find part time jobs in the mean time. But regular jobs just donât interest you so it takes you awhile to even apply for any⊠mostly getting fired after the first week or so because you end up showing late all the time.
Youâre left wondering what to do when you come across a website of camboys and camgirls. Some of them show full nudity while others stay dressed for the most part.
It intrigues you enough but you donât do it without running it through your members. Theyâre mostly shocked you even want to do that⊠but other than that, they just tell you to not speak and wear a mask.
Easy peasy. You chose a simple and almost silly name, âShy Usagiâ since your mask resembled a rabbit.
The first stream is awkward, you had to figure out a way to talk. Surprisingly, a few of the people that dropped in were intrigued by your refusal to talk. You had expected them to immediately want you naked but it seemed you attracted people that liked the teasing aspect of camboys.
Though you were 99% sure it was only men watching you. The first few weeks, you only wore skimpy clothing and did anything they requested. The most sexual thing you did was suck a dildo.
Occasionally youâd masturbate on live and that would always garner more attention. But there was always one person who would tip you no matter the stream.
âHitachikoiâ
You were sure he was probably an old man but you didnât care, money was money. He knew how to flirt so you never felt weirded out with his attention.
Things were going reasonably well until after your groupâs performance at a little festival. You had spilt away for a second to look around when you bumped into someone. He had his face covered with a mask and baseball cap.
You were going to apologize and go about your way when you caught that he was holding a poster of your group. He didnât say anything as he simply held up a marker.
It took a second before you finally realized what he wanted. âOh! Sure.â You were a bit excited, having never really signed anything before. Your signature was a bit messy but still legible.
âHere you go, thanks for coming to see us!â
âI only came to see you.â
âHm?â You leaned in closer, wondering if you had heard him right. Only you?
The man let out a laugh as he reached up and pulled down his mask, leaning down so you could get a clear look at his face. âMhm. Only you⊠(Name)⊠or ah,â
His hand reached up and cupped your face, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip. It was only when he pulled off his cap that you got a good look at his face.
He⊠he wasnât some random guy. He was a famous actor⊠a famous actor knew about you?
âShy Usagi? Itâs nice to see your entire face⊠that mask never hid your lips.â
You could stare as he pushed his thumb into your mouth. The only thing you were thinking of was if he was about to ruin your career before it even took off? But why would he care? Why was he evenâ
âDonât worry your pretty little head. Someone like you isnât made to think so hard,â he said, a slight frown on his lips. âI just, well I got tired of watching behind a screen. I wanted to touch youâŠâ
His other hand moved to rest on your hip, pulling you closer as he pressed his lips against your ear.
âTo be inside of you instead of that dildo⊠I mean, Iâm paying you so much money, itâs only fair I get to have you, right? Mhm? I can have you, yea? Iâve thought of fucking your mouth for days now.â
â(Name)! Where are you?â
He pulled away, rolling his eyes. You only watched as he slipped back on his mask and cap, pulling your shirt back down. âYouâll stream tonight.â He said, as if he was giving you an order, not asking.
âIâll see you tonight, baby. Wear something red tonight⊠thatâs my favorite color.â
With that he left you standing there, mouth agape just as one of your members walked over to you.
You⊠were so fucking screwed.
In more ways than one.
Tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @secretivemessenger @chill-guy-but-cooler @star-3214 @tehyunnie @remdayz @cherry-blossoms-187 @tomoeroi @mello-life25 @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @smellwell @iwishtobeacrow @euthymiko @rhetorical-conscience @mooncarvers-world @love-kha1 @anchoredphoenix @yuzuukix @bensontrechic
I already made a face claim lol.
ïżŒ
#bottom male reader#x male reader#sub male reader#uke male reader#male reader#oc x reader#mlm ns/fw#smut drabble#male bottom reader#original character
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Between Goodbyes and Forevers | LN4
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ËËË âĄ ËËË summary âââââââ Lando has to leave to prepare for the new season, and Y/N is super sad and clingy. He comforts her, and they have emotional goodbye sex.
ËËË âĄ ËËË pairing âââââââ Lando Norris x she!reader
ËËË âĄ ËËË word count âââââââ 2.6k
ËËË âĄ ËËË warnings âââââââ +18, sexual content, p in v, unprotected sex,
Based on this request.
Y/Nâs apartment was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside her floor-to-ceiling windows. The evening was winding down, but her mind was anything but calm. Lando lounged on her sofa, one arm draped casually over the back, his signature smirk playing on his lips. Heâd been teasing her all night, his words light and playful, but there was an intensity in his eyes that made her heart race.
âYouâre quiet tonight,â he remarked, his voice low and smooth, cutting through the silence. His gaze lingered on her, and she felt her cheeks warm under his scrutiny.
âJust tired,â Y/N lied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Tired didnât even begin to cover it. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions. Lando was leaving tomorrow, heading back to Monaco to prepare for the new Formula One season. Sheâd known this was coming, but now that the moment was here, it felt like a weight pressing down on her chest.
âBullshit,â Lando said with a chuckle, leaning forward slightly. His eyes narrowed, and that smirk turned into a knowing grin. âYouâve been clingy all evening. Not that Iâm complaining,â he added, his tone softening.
âI havenât been clingy,â Y/N retorted, though her voice lacked conviction. She hated how easily he saw through her.
Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. âYouâve been glued to my side all night. Even when I went to grab a drink, you followed me like a lost puppy.â
She opened her mouth to argue but quickly shut it. He wasnât wrong. She had been clingy, and she hated herself for it. She didnât want to seem desperate or needy, but the thought of him leaving made her stomach churn.
âIâm sorry,â she muttered, looking down at her hands. âI just⊠Iâm really going to miss you.â
Landoâs expression softened, and he moved closer to her on the sofa. His hand found hers, intertwining their fingers. âIâm going to miss you too, you know. More than I can say.â
She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. There was a sincerity in his gaze that made her breath catch. For someone who was always so carefree and teasing, Lando had a way of making her feel like she was the most important person in the world.
âYouâll call me, right?â she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
âEvery day,â he promised, his thumb gently brushing over the back of her hand. âAnd Iâll FaceTime you after every race. Youâll be sick of me by the end of the season.â
Y/N managed a small smile, but it didnât reach her eyes. She wanted to believe him, but there was a part of her that was terrified heâd forget about her. That sheâd be just another girl he left behind.
Lando must have sensed her unease because he leaned in closer, his free hand cupping her cheek. âHey,â he said softly, his voice like a warm blanket wrapping around her. âYouâre not just some girl, Y/n. Youâre everything to me. Iâm not going anywhere without you.â
Her heart squeezed in her chest, and she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. She hated how vulnerable she felt around him, but at the same time, she couldnât imagine being with anyone else.
âIâm scared,â she admitted, her voice trembling. âWhat if⊠what if you meet someone else? Someone prettier, someone moreâŠ.â
âStop,â Lando interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. He tilted her chin up so she was looking directly into his eyes. âThereâs no one else. Thereâs only you. Always you.â
His words were like a balm to her insecurities, but they werenât enough to completely erase the doubt gnawing at her. Before she could say anything else, Lando leaned in and captured her lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was soft and sweet, but there was an underlying passion that made her pulse quicken.
When he pulled away, she was breathless, her lips tingling from the contact. âIâm not letting you go, Y/N,â he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. âNot now, not ever.â
Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel the heat pooling in her lower stomach. She wanted to believe him, to trust him completely, but it was hard. Harder than sheâd ever admit.
âI love you,â she blurted out, the words slipping past her lips before she could stop them.
Lando froze for a moment, his eyes wide with surprise. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face, lighting up his features. âI love you too,â he said, his voice filled with warmth and affection. âMore than anything.â
His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she felt a surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Before she could overthink it, she leaned in and kissed him again, this time with more urgency.
Lando responded immediately, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that mirrored her own, and she could feel the heat between them growing with every passing second.
When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathless, their chests rising and fallings rapidly. Landoâs eyes were filled with desire, and Y/n could feel the tension in the air, thick and palpable.
âI need you,â she whispered, her voice trembling with need.
Lando didnât hesitate. In one fluid motion, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her down gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving hers.
âYouâre so beautiful,â he murmured, his hands trailing down her sides to the hem of her shirt. He pulled it off slowly, his touch soft and deliberate.
Y/N bit her lip, her insecurities bubbling to the surface. She was so used to hiding her body, to covering up the parts of herself she didnât like. But the way Lando looked at her made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
His hands moved to her bra, and she tensed slightly. âLando, Iââ
âShh,â he interrupted, his voice soothing. âI love every inch of you, Y/n. Every scar, every curve. Youâre perfect to me.â
His words melted her fears, and she relaxed as he unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. His eyes roamed over her body, and she could see the hunger in them. It made her feel powerful, desired.
Lando leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her collarbone before trailing his lips lower. His tongue flicked over her nipple, and she gasped, her back arching off the bed.
âLando,â she moaned, her hands tangling in his hair.
He continued to tease her, his lips and tongue working in tandem to drive her wild. She could feel the heat building inside her, her body trembling with need.
When he finally pulled away, she was a wreck, her chest rising and falling rapidly. His eyes met hers, and there was a fire in them that made her stomach flip.
âI need you,â she whispered again, her voice barely audible.
Lando didnât need to be told twice. He stripped off his clothes quickly, his eyes never leaving hers. When he finally joined her on the bed, she could feel the heat of his skin against hers, and it sent a shiver down her spine.
His lips found hers again, and he kissed her deeply, his hands roaming over her body. Every touch, every kiss, was slow and deliberate, like he was savoring every moment.
He hovered above her, his weight pressing into the mattress, his breath warm and ragged against her skin. His fingers traced the curve of her hip, sending shivers up her spine. With a gentleness that made her chest tighten, he guided himself to her entrance, the tip of him brushing against her, teasing, testing.
Y/nâs breath hitched, her body trembling with anticipation. She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening, lips parted in a silent plea. Lando didnât break eye contact as he slowly pressed into her, inch by inch. The stretch burned just enough to make her gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders as she adjusted to him. He paused there, buried deep, letting her feel the full weight of him, the way their bodies fit together like they were made for this, for each other.
âFuck,â he murmured, his voice rough, almost pained. His jaw clenched, his forehead falling against hers as he struggled to hold still. âYouâre so tight... so goddamn perfect.â
She could feel every pulse of him inside her, the heat of his skin searing into hers. Her muscles clenched around him instinctively, drawing a low groan from his throat. It was overwhelming, the fullness, the intensity of it all. She felt owned, claimed, but not in a way that scared her. In a way that made her heart swell, as if this was where she was always meant to be.
Lando began to move thenâslow, deliberate thrusts that made her head spin. Each stroke dragged against her walls, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She arched into him, her legs wrapping tighter around his hips, urging him deeper, faster. But he kept his pace unhurried, his lips painting a trail of heat along her neck, her collarbone, anywhere his mouth could reach.
âLook at me,â he demanded softly, pulling back just enough to cup her face in his hand. Y/nâs eyes fluttered open, meeting his gaze. There was so much in those eyesâlust, yes, but something else too, something deeper. Something that made her chest ache with how much she felt for him.
She reached up, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the dampness of his skin. âI love you,â she whispered, the words tumbling out like a secret, a promise.
His breath caught, and he pressed his forehead against hers again, his thrusts faltering just for a moment. âI love you,â he breathed back, the words raw, unfiltered. And then he kissed herâdeep, consuming, as if he could pour everything he felt through that one connection.
âYouâre mine, Y/n,â he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. âAlways.â
She nodded, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. âAlways.â
Their bodies moved together in a rhythm so deliberate, so unhurried, it felt like time itself had slowed. Every deep, calculated thrust was more than physical; it was a conversation, a language only they spoke. Landoâs hips rolled into hers with an almost unbearable precision, every stroke dragging against her inner walls in a way that left her gasping, her nails carving faint crescents into his back.
She could feel the fullness of him stretching her, the way he filled every inch of her impossibly tight heat. The friction was torturous and exquisite all at once, a slow burn that coiled low in her belly, building with every movement. He leaned back slightly, supporting himself on one arm, his free hand roaming down her side to grip her hip. His fingers dug in just enough to anchor her, pulling her closer as he drove deeper, their bodies slapping together in a wet, dizzying rhythm.
âLook at me,â he said again, his voice rough, strained. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, and the intensity there stole her breath. His pupils were blown wide, filled with desire and love.
She reached up, her fingers trembling as they traced the damp line of his jaw, the stubble scratching her fingertips. âLando...â she whispered, her voice breaking halfway. It wasnât a plea or a demand; it was a confession, a surrender.
He didnât respond with words. Instead, he bent his head, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that swallowed her moans whole. His tongue slid against hers, hot and demanding, mirroring the relentless pace of his hips. She could taste the desperation in him, the way he clung to her as though she might slip away.
And then his hand slid between them, his thumb finding her clit in one fluid motion. She arched off the bed, a broken cry tearing from her throat as he pressed firm circles there, the pressure exact and unrelenting. Her thighs clamped around his waist, her body tightening around him in waves that had him groaning into her mouth.
âFuck, you feel... too good,â he rasped, his thrusts growing uneven, faltering as he lost control. His forehead dropped to hers, their breaths mingling, sweat-slick and frantic. âY/n, Iââ
She cut him off with a whimper, her orgasm crashing over her without warning, stealing her ability to think, to breathe. Her vision blurred, her body shuddering as pleasure ripped through her, sharp and all-consuming. And still he kept moving, dragging out her climax until tears pricked her eyes.
Her name fell from his lips again, this time a choked sound, as if he couldnât hold back any longer. His hips jerked sharply, once, twice, before he buried himself deep, his release spilling into her in thick, pulsing waves. He collapsed onto her, his weight heavy and warm, their chests heaving in unison.
For a moment, neither of them moved. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the two of them, tangled together, heartbeats syncing as they came down from the high.
Landoâs fingers traced the curve of her jawline, his touch feather-light, as if memorizing every detail of her face. His lips pressed against her forehead, lingering there, soft and unhurried. The warmth of his breath against her skin sent a shiver through her, and she nestled closer, her arms tugging his tighter around her. She could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against her chest, grounding her, anchoring her to this moment.
âIâm going to miss you,â Y/n murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, like a secret she couldnât hold in anymore. Her breath hitched, the weight of his impending departure pressing heavily on her chest. âSo much.â
Landoâs arms tightened around her, his lips brushing against her temple in a lingering kiss. âIâm going to miss you too,â he said, his voice thick with emotion. âEvery second Iâm away from you will feel like a lifetime.â
She tilted her head back to look at him, her eyes searching his face. The intensity in his gaze held her captive, his eyes filled with a love that made her chest ache. âPromise me,â she said softly, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, âthat youâll come back to me.â
âAlways,â he whispered, his voice steady despite the ache in it. His forehead pressed against hers, their breaths mingling, their hearts beating in sync. âYouâre my home, Y/n. No matter where I am, Iâll always come back to you.â
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her lips curving into a small, radiant smile. âI love you,â she said, her voice trembling with the weight of her emotions.
âI love you more,â he replied, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from her cheek. âMore than Iâve ever loved anything.â
Her eyelashes fluttered shut as she leaned into him, her body melting against his. In his arms, she felt safe, cherished, and utterly loved. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them, holding onto each other as if nothing else mattered. The warmth of his embrace, the softness of his touch, the depth of his loveâ it was all she needed, all she ever wanted.
And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet stillness of the night, Y/n knew, without a doubt, that no matter the distance, no matter the time, he would always be hers. And she would always be his.
#f1 x reader#formula 1#formula one#formula one imagine#f1 fic#formula one x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one x y/n#f1#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x you#formula one x you#formula 1 x reader#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you
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EVERYTHING I WANT â yu jimin.
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"i had finally figured out, you were just around the corner."
synopsis. youâre just the wedding planner for your brotherâs wedding, trying to keep it all together. but karina, his fiancĂ©e, keeps slipping under your skin. sheâs perfectâeverything youâve ever wantedâbut sheâs marrying your brother.
pairing. brothers!fiance!karina x wedding!planner!fem!reader
warning(s). angst w a mixture of fluff, love triangle, cheating (im sorry), angst with a happy ending.
words. 5.7k
authors note. i remember watching a gay movie like this.
navigation. main masterlist.
karina has a way of capturing the attention of everyone in a room, and her presence alone is enough to make the world pause. she walks in, all bright eyes and effortless grace, and somehow the entire room shifts to accommodate her. itâs almost like she belongs in a space much grander than this, but then, thatâs karinaâalways radiant, always a little untouchable.
youâve noticed it countless times beforeâit's part of the reason why your parents are so calm with the idea of your brother marrying her only months after they've met. karinaâyour brotherâs fiancĂ©e, the one they think is perfect in every way. karinaâthe one who is everything they always hoped for in a partner for him. karinaâthe one who practically begged you to plan her wedding.
you have to admit, they make a beautiful couple. the way karina and your brother stand in the kitchen, laughing over something she said while she chops vegetables, her hands moving easily, like sheâs done this a hundred times. your brotherâs smiling at her like sheâs the only person in the world. itâs all so natural, so effortless. you canât deny that they love each otherâitâs one of those things you just know. like the feeling of the ground beneath your feet or the wind against your skin. itâs just a fact.
it was the first time in a while you've been to their house, but your brother practically forced you into staying at his while you planned the wedding. they don't seem to mind, which is probably good considering you've taken over the living room as a workspace, with papers and decorations and fabric samples spread out across the coffee table and the couch.
but regardless, the two haven't decided on a venue yet, so the planning process is still in full swing. you had a list of about five venues you thought were promising, and you were hoping they'd settle on one soon so you could stop having to lug around your binder everywhere.
karina finishes up her task and sets the knife down, washing her hands off before she turns to you.
she walks over with that signature smile of hers, the one that makes everything seem like itâs shining just a little brighter. âhey, can we talk about the venue options for a sec?â she asks, her voice smooth like velvet, like it always is.
you glance up from the pile of papers in front of you, your gaze meeting hers for a second too long. the way sheâs standing there, close enough to reach out and touch, makes it hard to focus. you blink, trying to get your head back in the game. âuh, yeah, sure. whatâs on your mind?â
she leans against the back of the couch, her arms crossing lightly over her chest. âi know weâve got some good options, butâŠâ she hesitates for a moment, as if carefully considering her next words. âiâve always wanted a wedding on the beach. you know, like those dreamy ones you see in magazines?â
you freeze for a moment, your fingers lingering over the corner of your binder. the beach. you canât help the pang that hits you when she says it, because it's something you've always imagined for your own wedding one day, not anyone elseâs. itâs silly, of courseâyou shouldn't have gotten so attached to a fantasy. but you can't help it. you'd always imagined a wedding on the beach, with the sun setting over the waves and sand beneath your feet.
she tilts her head a little, as if trying to figure out what's wrong. when you don't say anything, she speaks again, her tone more gentle. "are you okay?"
you try to shake it off, but karina always seems to notice everything. it's a little bit impressive, really. "oh, i'm fine. just a little tired." you quickly speak again before she can question you further. âyou know, your fiancĂ©âs pretty set on that greenhouse. itâs a pretty big deal for him.â
she nods, a small frown tugging at her lips. âi know,â she says softly. âi just canât help but dream of the beach.â she pauses, then her eyes soften, and she adds with a little more playfulness, "iâll let you handle the tough decisions. youâre the expert here, after all.â
you hate to let her down, but the odds of convincing your brother to change his mind are low. the greenhouse was his idea, and it means a lot to him, since your father married your mom there years ago. he had talked about wanting to recreate that day, the way the light filtered in through the glass, the flowers all around. his eyes had sparkled as he spoke, like he could imagine the entire scene unfolding before him. you couldnât bring yourself to say no, not when he had been so excited.
you give a small laugh. âiâm just the wedding planner. youâre the one who has to live with the choice.â
she grins at you before walking away.
but even though you tell yourself it won't be your fault if she doesn't get her dream wedding, the guilt doesn't go away. you just hope she won't hate you for not being able to deliver the perfect day she's been waiting for.
you watch as she heads back over to the kitchen, your gaze lingering on her a little longer than it should. her smile is bright as ever, the one you're not sure you've ever seen her without, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.
you swallow, then return to your work.
the venue. you can't get distracted. you're good at your job. you can do this.
the next few days pass in a flurry of phone calls and emails, and you're barely keeping track of which venue you're supposed to be going to see next. you've visited a handful, but it seems like they've all had the same issueâthey don't have the space for the kind of wedding karina's dreaming of.
the pressure is starting to wear on you. youâve been juggling so many details, from flowers to photographers to caterers, but every venue just feels off in one way or another. some are too big, some too small. others donât have the kind of beachy vibe karinaâs been dreaming of, and you can tell sheâs starting to get a little discouraged.
you can see the way her shoulders slump when another place doesnât meet her expectations, the way she tries to mask her disappointment with that perfect smile of hers. itâs hard to watch. but you also know this is her dream, her wedding. she deserves to have everything sheâs envisioned for years.
âi swear, if i see one more ballroomâŠâ you mutter under your breath, flipping through another round of emails, trying to see if any of the new suggestions could work.
karina, seated across from you in the cafĂ©, lets out a small laugh. âyouâre telling me. but weâve got to keep looking, right?â
you look up, meeting her gaze for the first time in a while. she looks exhausted, her makeup a little faded from a long day of venue tours, but her smile is as warm as ever. it makes your heart ache.
you swallow, then turn back to your phone. "yeah. yeah, we do." you take a sip of your drink, not even removing your eyes from the screen. "i've been hearing a lot of good things about this one place, though."
karina leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. "which one?"
but before you can reply, a giggle leaves her lips, and she points to the side of your nose. "oh my god, you've got whipped cream on your nose. let meâŠ"
her hand reaches out, and then she's touching you, her thumb brushing over the tip of your nose, sending shivers down your spine. she pulls her hand back, a little whipped cream on her thumb.
she smiles. "got it."
you blink, and your brain short-circuits for a second. her touch was so fleeting, but the warmth lingers.
she doesn't notice, already turned back to your phone ready to see the venue you were muttering about.
you exhale. the venue. right. focus.
and then, it happens.
when you get back home, an hour later you hear it from the other roomâa loud argument, your brother's voice booming, and karina's pleading for him to just listen. your eyes widen. you'd never heard her raise her voice like that before.
theyâve always been so perfect together, but now, the disagreement over the wedding venue seems to be pushing things too far. you canât make out the exact words, but you catch a fewâthe beach, the greenhouse, and your name a couple of times. the door slams shortly after, and everything falls silent.
you glance at the door leading to the hallway, torn between going to see whatâs going on and staying out of it. the last thing you want is to get caught in the middle of their argument, but part of you can't help but feel concerned. this isnât like themâkarina, always the picture of composure, and your brother, usually so patient. it doesnât add up.
you hear footsteps and then a quiet knock at the door. "are you awake?"
you take a deep breath. "yeah, come in."
the door opens, and karina walks in, looking as stunning as ever. her face is still flushed from the argument, but her hair is swept to the side, the light catching on her earrings. even in a moment like this, she's effortlessly beautiful.
"hey," you say softly, motioning toward the couch. "are you okay?"
she sits down beside you, her body relaxing a little, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. she nods, taking a deep breath before speaking. "i'm fine. we're fine."
you tilt your head, not fully believing her. you've been friends for years, after all. you can tell when she's holding something back. "are you sure? because i heardâ"
"we're fine," she repeats, a little more firmly.
you nod, but you still feel unsure. it's clear they need some time to themselves, and you can't force her to tell you what's going on. âyou know,â you say, shifting beside her, âif you need a break, we could do something completely different. a distraction. a moment just for you.â
she looks at you, eyes wide, clearly intrigued by the offer. âlike what?â
a slow grin spreads across your face. âletâs get food for starters. and thenâŠ"
she cuts you off before you can finish. "as long as it involves wine, i'm in."
the smile is back, and your heart aches with it. you've missed seeing her smile, the way her eyes crinkle at the edges, her whole body seeming lighter. it's a feeling you never want to let go of.
without missing a beat, you get up and grab your keys. âperfect. let's go!"
you hold your hand out, and her fingers are warm in yours as you lead her out the door.
the two of you end up parked in front of a small, neon-lit burger joint tucked away on a quiet street. itâs one of those old-school places with a bright red roof and a hand-painted menu board by the drive-thru. it looks like it hasn't changed much since it was built decades ago, but that's exactly why you love it.
karinaâs sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat, the bottle of wine you impulsively grabbed resting between you. youâd managed to snag a couple of burgers and fries to go, and now the two of you are tucked away in the car, sharing fries like youâre the only people in the world.
âthis is so random,â she says, laughing softly. sheâs still got a bit of a flush from earlierâwhether from the wine or the argument, youâre not sure. but for now, you try not to think about it. you don't want to ruin the moment.
âthatâs what makes it perfect,â you reply, passing her a fry. she takes it with a smile, your fingers brushing briefly. your heart trips over itself at the contact, and you reach for the bottle of wine to take another sip. itâs not the fanciest vintage, but itâs doing the job.
karina takes the bottle next, swiping at the neck before drinking straight from it. when she lowers it, her eyes are sparkling with something mischievous. âi always liked the idea of writing my vows on something unconventional,â she says suddenly, resting her head against the seat. âlike in the movies. you know, scribbled on the back of a napkin or a burger wrapper. something spontaneous and real.â
you canât help but laugh. âweâve got burger wrappers right here.â
her eyes light up. âyouâre kidding.â
âiâm not.â
she sets down the bottle and grabs the crumpled wrappers from the bag. âalright. letâs do it. right here, right now. our mock wedding.â
you raise an eyebrow. this was not how you thought the night was going to go, but then again, karina has always been full of surprises. she looks so excited at the idea; you can't bring yourself to say no. you're already in this deep, after all.
you grab a pen from the glove compartment, the tipsy energy between you growing contagious. you hand it over, and karina carefully smooths out one of the wrappers on her lap.
âalright,â she declares, biting back a grin. âi vow to always share my fries with you. even the crispy ones.â
you snort. âthatâs a big promise.â
âand i vow to never judge you for eating burgers at midnight,â she adds, her grin widening.
âokay, my turn,â you say, leaning in. âi vow to always keep you stocked up on wine and burgers. and fries. all the good stuff. just in case of an emergency, of course. or for a spontaneous road trip. whichever comes first, i guess."
you're both giggling, and then her smile softens. she looks at you with those eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away. then her expression shifts. she takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the pen. âone more,â she says, her voice quieter now. âi vow to always be someone you can turn to, no matter what. even when things get messy or complicated.â
her eyes are still on yours, and you can't bring yourself to break the contact. you feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs, and it's almost too much, too fast.
you finally manage to get the words out, your voice coming out a little strained. "i promise too."
karina smiles softly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face. âletâs go somewhere,â she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
âwhere?â you ask, still breathless.
she glances at the horizon, where the stars are just beginning to scatter across the night sky. âthe beach.â
without another word, you put the car in drive and head toward the coast. the streets are quiet, the hum of the tires against the road the only sound as the town fades behind you. it feels like the rest of the world doesnât existâjust you, karina, and the open road.
when you arrive, the beach is deserted, bathed in moonlight and the soft crashing of waves. you both kick off your shoes and walk toward the shoreline, the sand cool beneath your feet. karina stops just shy of the water, turning to face you.
âalright,â she says, holding out her hand. âletâs make this official.â
you laugh, taking her hand. âthis is the most spontaneous fake wedding iâve ever been a part of.â
her grin is wide, a little wild, like sheâs already planning something outrageous. âjust wait until our real wedding. then itâll really be a show.â
the words hit you harder than expectedâour real wedding. your mind flashes with an image: karina walking down the aisle, her dress swishing with every elegant step, her smile lighting up the whole room.
karina squeezes your hand gently, bringing you back to reality. "are you ready?"
you give her a tiny nod. âiâm ready.â
she turns to face you, her smile dimming just enough to make the moment feel serious. she takes a steadying breath before starting. âi vow to always share my fries with youâeven the crispy ones.â
you grin. "i vow to not get jealous when you share your fries with someone else."
"that's a fair point." she pauses for a moment, glancing at the moon overhead. when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "i vow to not forget about all the nights we've stayed up talking, the sun just starting to rise, and how i could listen to your voice forever. and i vow to always be someone you can count on, no matter what."
her words make your heart ache. you swallow, trying to push down the feeling. "i vow to never give up, even when things get tough. even when everything's changing around us. and i vow to always be a place you can run to."
the words hang between you for a moment, and you feel like the whole world has stopped. everything feels surreal, like a dream, the kind you're afraid of waking up from. then she steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth radiating off her. her next words are softer, more serious, the playfulness stripped away. âdo you vow to take me to the best burger joints at midnight?â
your voice is quieter now too. âi do.â
âdo you vow to share your fries with me, even the crispy ones?â
âi do.â
she takes a small, shaky breath, her gaze locked on yours. âand do you vow to always be my friend? to stand by me, even when things get hard or messy?â
your throat tightens, but somehow you manage to speak. âi do.â
karinaâs lips twitch, but she doesnât smile fully. there's something vulnerable in her expression, like she's revealing a piece of herself she's never shown before. "do you promise to always remember tonight? how special this moment is?"
"i do."
she nods, her eyes shining. "good. because i do, too."
her gaze drops to your lips, and you realize what she's doing a second too late. before you can even process what's happening, her mouth is on yours, warm and soft and sweet. it's the kind of kiss you feel all the way down to your toes, the kind that makes the rest of the world disappear.
it's everything and nothing all at once.
then the moment passes, and she's pulling away, a little breathless. "i'm sorry. i justâŠ"
you blink, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes out.
she swallows, then steps back, her cheeks flushed. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me. that was stupid. we should go."
she turns and walks off, her footsteps echoing through the darkness. you watch her leave, not daring to say anything, because if you speak, you'll break the spell. you'll wake up from this dream, and it'll all be gone, and this moment will be lost forever.
karina speedwalks to your car, her ears hot and her head spinning. what the hell did i just do? she opens the car door and climbs in, her body feeling weightless. the kiss was an impulse, a split-second decision, and now she's left wondering why the hell she thought it was a good idea.
you get in the car a moment later, your expression unreadable. you're silent for a few beats, then you clear your throat. "here take my jacket," you say, reaching over to drape it around her shoulders. "you look cold."
her chest tightens. of course, you're being kind and sweet. god, why did she have to ruin the moment?
she takes the jacket, but it does nothing to warm the chill that's seeped into her bones. she's so confused. one minute, she's getting engaged, and the next, she's kissing you, the one person who's never given her a reason to doubt. she feels like she's falling apart, piece by piece.
"let's get you home," you say quietly, starting the car.
karina nods, her eyes focused on the window. the rest of the ride is silent, neither of you daring to say a word.
a month passed since that nightâthe kiss that left you spinning and karinaâs unexpected confession. youâd both fallen into a strange rhythm after that. conversations were shorter, more careful, as if the words had to be handled with gloves. and though things seemed okay on the surface, there was a distance that neither of you knew how to bridge.
she was still okay with the greenhouse. youâd finalized every last detail together, but it felt like neither of you were talking about what really mattered. instead, you both threw yourselves into the wedding planning like it was the only way to keep moving forward.
it was just after midnight when you found yourself back in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. it had been a long day, and your mind was still racing. you stood there for a while, sipping slowly, mind wandering.
the front door creaked open. your brother stumbled in, his suit rumpled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. his eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of whiskey and something faintly floralâperfume. you could guess what had happened.
âcompany celebration,â he muttered, not meeting your eyes. âbig news⊠big, big news.â
you wrapped an arm around him and helped him upstairs. he leaned on you heavily, his usually confident demeanor dulled by the alcohol. when you sat him down on the edge of your bed, you noticed itâlipstick stains on the collar of his shirt, faint but undeniable.
your stomach twisted. you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. it was none of your business. after all, she cheated as well...with you.
after he passed out, you quietly shut the door and went back downstairs. there was no sleep to be found, not when your thoughts were tangled in the events of what's happened over the past three monthsâthe kiss, karinaâs sudden agreement to the greenhouse wedding, the lipstick stains. it was too much.
you sat at the dining room table and pulled out your laptop. the wedding planning documents filled the screen, emails flooding in with suggestions and changes. you worked mindlessly, letting the repetition of it all keep your thoughts at bay.
the hours bled into one another, and before you knew it, pale sunlight was breaking through the windows. your eyes burned, your muscles ached, but you couldnât stop.
footsteps behind you made you freeze.
karina.
her hair was a mess of loose waves, and she wore one of those oversized pajama shirts she loved. she had two mugs of coffee in hand, the familiar scent of hazelnut filling the room. without a word, she placed one in front of you.
âyouâve been up all night,â she said quietly.
âi had things to do,â you answered, not meeting her eyes.
karina sighed, taking in the dark circles under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. âyouâre burning yourself out.â
when you didnât say anything, she walked around the table and stood behind you. her hands found your shoulders, fingers pressing gently into the knots there. she massaged in slow circles, her thumbs working out the tightness you hadnât even noticed.
her voice was soft as she spoke, barely more than a whisper. "you should get some sleep. you can't keep doing this."
but you were too tired, too worn down, to respond. you couldnât focus on anything other than the feeling of her hands on your shoulders, the warmth of her touch sinking into your skin.
she leaned down, her breath tickling your ear. "can we talk?"
"yeah," you managed.
karina let go and moved to the seat across from you. she looked like she was struggling with something, the same look from the night at the beach, when she had asked you to promise her to remember. her fingers tapped on the mug. you could tell she was stalling, trying to decide what to say, but eventually, the words came.
"i'm sorry."
you were sorry too. for so many things, but you didn't say them out loud. instead, you just nodded.
"i never meant for this to happen," she said. "but it's all getting a little too much."
you were exhausted. tired of everythingâthe wedding, the kiss, the feelings. tired of being the planner. tired of pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.
karina's gaze dropped to her hands, her voice small. "i didn't mean to make things weird between us. i just didn't know what to do."
"it's okay," you replied, because it was all you could say.
"it's not," she insisted. "you're my best friend. i don't want to lose that."
she was right. you were her best friend. she was supposed to be marrying your brother, not making out with you at midnight. the thought sent a shiver down your spine.
"we'll get through this. together." you tried to sound convincing, but it fell flat.
"will we?" her voice was barely audible. "you've been pushing me away for weeks. i can tell."
you shook your head, but it was pointless. the truth was staring you in the face, and it wasn't pretty.
karina sighed, her gaze lifting from the table to meet yours. "i'm sorry. i don't want things to be awkward between us. i don't want this to change things."
her eyes were filled with such honesty and vulnerability, it made your chest ache. you wanted to reach out, hold her, and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but you couldn't. you couldn't bring yourself to lie.
you rubbed your hands over your face, trying to ease the tension building behind your eyes. the words were stuck, clawing at your throat, desperate to escape. but what could you say?everything was so tangled.
âiâm not pushing you away,â you finally managed, though it felt hollow. âi just⊠donât know how to handle all this.â
she gave you a weak smile, but her eyes were still sad.
the silence stretched between you, growing heavier with each passing moment. neither of you knew what to say.
âi donât want to hurt you,â she said suddenly, her voice trembling.
your stomach twisted, and you had to look away. âyouâre not hurting me.â
it was a lie, and you both knew it. but what good would the truth do?
karina sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. she looked exhausted, like she hadnât slept in days. maybe she hadnât. âi just want us to be okay. like before.â
âbefore,â you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. before everything. before the kiss. before you saw your brother stumble in last night, lipstick stains betrayed his lies.
she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "yeah, before. like we promised in our vows."
you let out a breath. was she really bringing this up now? "our fake vows."
karina flinched, as if your words had physically struck her. she looked at you, her eyes pleading. "you promised to always remember that night. that's not nothing."
you closed your eyes, trying to block out the memory. it was a mistake. a stupid, impulsive decision. one you shouldn't have made. one you shouldn't be thinking about.
"look, it's fine. we'll just forget it ever happened. like we're supposed to."
"are we?"
you stared at her, your throat tightening. "yes. because that's what's best. for everyone."
she swallowed, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "okay. if that's what you want."
"it is." the words were heavy, weighing on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs.
"alright. then i guess we should go back to planning."
she forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. the conversation was over.
and that was it. you tried not to think about the kiss or the way her hand had felt in yours. but the memories lingered, refusing to let go.
the day of the wedding arrived. you stood at the back of the greenhouse, feeling out of place as the carefully chosen flowers, delicate white drapes, and twinkling fairy lights filled the space with a sense of serenity that felt foreign to you. everything about this moment was supposed to be beautiful, perfect, just as your brother had imagined. but you couldnât shake the unease that knotted in your stomach.
the ceremony was supposed to feel like a celebration, a milestone in their lives. but it wasnât. the sight of your brother, standing at the altar with the priest, waiting for karina, made something inside you tighten. he was smiling, his hands clasped together in anticipation. but the thought of him with herâknowing everything that had happened between the two of youâsuddenly felt wrong. not to mention what he did himself.
and then, she appeared.
karina entered, her arm linked with your fatherâs, walking down the aisle with the grace of someone who belonged in a dream. the flowing ivory gown clung to her figure in a way that made your breath catch. the soft music playing in the background seemed to fade as you watched her approach, unable to tear your eyes away.
her gaze flickered to you for the briefest of moments. it was only a glance, but it held so much. the quiet acknowledgment that things werenât the way they were supposed to be. that this wasnât how it was supposed to feel.
you could barely breathe. you had promised to be strong, to be there for her. but seeing her like this, walking down the aisle toward your brother, was impossible. all the promises you had made, all the words you had told her in the days leading up to this, suddenly felt so hollow. she wasnât yours. she never had been, and yet, everything inside you screamed that she should be.
you couldnât stay.
without thinking, you turned and quietly slipped out of the greenhouse, avoiding the curious glances of your family. the sounds of the ceremony, the murmurs of the guests, faded as you walked, faster and faster, until you were outside, out of the view of the guests, heading straight for the beach.
the water was cool, the sand soft beneath your feet, the gentle breeze soothing. but it wasn't enough. you could still feel the ache in your chest, the heaviness that had settled there the moment you saw karina walking down the aisle.
you had been so certain that you could do this, that you could keep your promise and be there for her, no matter what. but now, standing on the beach, the waves washing over your feet, you realize how foolish it had been to think that.
you sank to the sand, burying your face in your hands. how had things gotten this far? how had everything become so tangled, so complicated, so fast? and why did it feel like your heart was being torn in two?
you were torn in so many directions, your mind spinning with thoughts of karina, of the kiss, of your brother, and of everything that had led to this moment. you wanted to scream, to let the confusion and frustration pour out of you, but you couldnât. you couldnât make sense of it all.
everything felt like it was unraveling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the hurt, the guilt, the love that you couldnât seem to let go ofâit all washed over you, suffocating you. you loved her. you had always loved her, but it was wrong. she was marrying your brother. it wasnât supposed to be like this. you werenât supposed to be the one to feel this way.
but the feeling was there, as real as the sand beneath your feet and the wind against your skin. you couldn't deny it, no matter how hard you tried.
"y/n."
your heart skipped a beat. you looked up, and there she was, standing at the edge of the sand. karina, still in her wedding dress, the fabric flowing around her as she stepped toward you, barefoot.
"y/n," she repeated, her voice soft, almost pleading.
you were frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. your throat tightened; the words stuck.
âwhat are you doing here?â you managed to ask, your voice wavering.
âi couldnât let you go,â she said, her voice breathless. âi canât let you walk away from me. not like this.â
you stood up, unsure of what to say, but before you could form any words, karina was running toward you, her wedding dress trailing behind her. she didnât stop until she was right in front of you, her hands trembling as she reached for yours.
"i canât marry him," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "not when i feel like this. not when itâs you i want."
the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your mind raced. "karina, this isnâtâ"
"i donât care," she interrupted. "i canât pretend anymore. iâm sorry. i shouldâve told you sooner. i shouldâve never let you go, even when i knew how wrong it was. but i canât marry him when iâm in love with you."
you blinked, staring at her. in love with you. she was in love with you. the words echoed in your head, and you couldn't find the strength to speak.
"y/n, please. say something."
karinaâs face crumpled, and she stepped closer, her hands trembling as she cupped your face. âplease,â she whispered, âdonât let me lose you. you're everything i want."
her touch was warm, and you couldn't help but lean into it. she was so close, and you could feel her heartbeat, her breathing, her warmth. it was intoxicating, and before you knew what you were doing, your lips met hers, gentle and tender, as if she was afraid of breaking you.
but you couldn't break. not when she was kissing you like this. not when her lips were so soft, and her arms were around your waist, pulling you closer. it felt like the world was shifting, the ground giving way beneath your feet. but she was there, holding onto you, her grip tight and desperate, like she was afraid of losing you.
the kiss deepened, and everything else fell away. all you could feel was her. all you could think about was how right it felt, how perfect it was, and how this was the moment you had been waiting for. you were home, in her arms, and nothing else mattered.
the kiss broke, and karina pulled back, her breathing ragged. her eyes were bright, full of emotion, and you knew yours were the same.
"i love you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "i love you, and i'm sorry i didn't realize it sooner."
the words washed over you, and for the first time, everything felt right.
"i love you too," you breathed, not caring that it was wrong or that you shouldn't be saying it. you couldn't stop yourself, and the feeling of finally letting the words out was overwhelming. "you're everything i wantâŠand more."
her eyes widened, and then a smile tugged at her lips, wide and bright, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. she kissed you again, fierce and passionate, and you could feel her joy, her relief, her love. it was the kind of kiss that made your heart swell, that made you feel like you were floating, and nothing could ever come between you.
"i'm yours," she whispered against your lips, her voice breaking. "i'll always be yours."
#bytemee works#aespa karina#karina x reader#aespa x reader#jimin x reader#yu jimin x reader#yu jimin#kpop x reader#karina x fem reader#aespa#karina x you#karina x y/n#wlw#yoo jimin x reader#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#yoo jimin aespa#karina#karina angst#karina fluff
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@groovestrawberry Thank you so much for your words. They mean a lot. Especially because I'm prone to taking stuff way too seriously, so I really appreciate the reminder to just chill tf out. đ
â€ïž
Right so, onto your questions!
1) the last sentence you wrote
"It didnât take long for your heart to pick up its frantic rhythm once more, terror seizing you anew at the horrible realization that, whoïżœïżœwhatever was chasing you, it had been close enough for you to feel it."
Wrote that only yesterday. đȘ
6) the word that appears the most in your current draft
(This is Chapter 4 btw.)
17) talk about your writing and editing process
Oh boy, what to say. Where to start.
I mean, I tend to take things a bit too seriously, as mentioned before. Which means I'll sometimes go over a sentence or paragraph until it no longer makes sense to me, lol. I know it's probably fine as is and ppl are gonna enjoy it anyway, so this is a habit of mine I'm working on. Also because, in my experience, whatever your brain comes up with after you first get your thoughts on paper, it most likely won't be as good as what you first came up with, so you end up going back to the OG anyway. đ€·đ»ââïž
So ye, editing ain't fun, but it must be done because I'm really not happy with some of the stuff my old self has come up with. đ
As for the writing: This goes hand in hand with editing, actually. First things first though: Music. Most important. If I have a song I can vibe to and it fits the mood and all, then it's going rather smoothly. But, even then, I'm by no means a "fast" writer. Even when vibing, I'm still hyper focused on not making mistakes and especially using the correct tense (something I find surprisingly difficult when you're actually focused on it, lol). So, just like with editing, I'll read over a section a few hundred times before I proceed. I know some say it's more important to just get that first draft done and correct any mistakes after but, honestly? When a chapter is done, I wanna post it, not spend another few hours/days/weeks editing stuff. đ€·đ»ââïž
So ye, writing and editing is more or less the same for me because it happens simultanously. Or it will, once I'm done with editing TBRH (The Bumpy Road Home) and things go back to "normal." đ
What else to say...hm, I guess a few other "quirks" of mine when writing are:
Writing out a piece of dialogue and putting it somewhere on the page to use later because I just know that if I don't do that, whatever I come up with instead (because my ass forgot half of what I originally came up with) won't be as slapping. OG always wins and all. đ
Pausing to take a breather because I get so immersed in the scene, I actually need a moment to process it. (I read somewhere that someone referred to it as "zoomies." This was more in the sense of reading a fic and coming across a section so damn good, you need a moment to process it. But, sometimes, this is very much the case for writers too. đ« )
Looking up images, videos etc. of the ppl or things I'm writing about. For Chapter 4 of TBRH, the Denali house was my trusty companion. Just chilling in the background (aka: another tab), lol.
Starting on another scene even though I haven't finished the current one because I just need to know what happens next. (Yes, I'm aware I'm the writer.)
Well, that's all I can come up with for the moment. I'm sure there's more and maybe I'll post it at some point. âïž
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Thanks a lot for your questions and your lovely words! đ
âïž more fic writer asks!
reblog & your followers can send asks with the questions theyâd like you to answer!
the last sentence you wrote
a character whose POV youâre currently exploring
how you feel about your current WIP
a story idea you havenât written yet
first sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP
the word that appears the most in your current draft (wordcounter.net can tell you)
your preferred writing fonts
if you had to write a sequel to a fic, youâd write one forâŠ
start to finish, how long did it take you to write the last fic you posted?
what is the longest amount of time youâve let a draft rest before you finished it?
a WIP youâd like to finish someday
a trope youâre really into right now
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favorite weather for writing
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talk about your writing and editing process
if you keep them, share a deleted sentence or paragraph from a published fic
the most interesting topic youâve researched for a fic
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pick three keywords that describe your writing
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share a fic youâre especially proud of
#tumblr asks#(kinda)#tumblr ask games#writer ask games#writers#writing#fanfictions#fanfics#ao3#archive of our own#writers on ao3#writers on tumblr
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So this is 5k words. Didn't mean for that to happen. This is for BuckTommy Fluffebruary Day Sixteen: Didn't Know They Were Dating AU. This is the one fill that doesn't take place in the same timeline as my other fills and is set in some nebulous period between 405 and 409. So Buck knows about Daniel. Jes-Yun isn't born yet. You can also read this on AO3 here. Tagging @bucktommyfluffebruary
They meet one night when Maddie is asked to cover a shift at the last minute and Chimney begs Buck to step in for a karaoke trivia thing he'd been invited to. When he arrives at the bar, Chimney is sitting with two big guys at a table. One of the guys introduces himself as Sal, and he seems cool enough. The other guy is Tommy, and he's definitely really cool.
âMy girlfriend's brother is stepping in for her,â Chimney explains.
âH-hey,â Buck says, waving awkwardly. âI'm Evan. Buck. Evan Buckley.â
It's the least smooth way he's ever introduced himself in his adult life, but he keeps wondering what the hell Tommy's diet and exercise routine is. The guy is massive. He's so warm, though, when he shakes Buck's hand. Literally, because his hands are radiating heat, but he also smiles with his whole face instead of just a polite tilt of his mouth. Buck finds himself smiling back and ducking his head when Tommy lets his hand go.
âWasn't your girlfriend the secret karaoke weapon?â Sal asks.
âYeah, but this guy's the secret trivia weapon,â Chimney says, clapping Buck on the shoulder. âYou said science and history always gets you, right? Here's your solution.â
Buck flushes and shrugs when Tommy's eyes sweep over him. âI hope I can help.â
He settles in for a night of karaoke trivia, and he's not much help on the pop culture stuff. But there's an entire series of questions themed around popular animals at the LA Zoo, and Buck gets all of them. As he answers, Tommy's blue eyes stay on him, and Buck finds himself answering with more and more confidence. When Celestial Bodies turns out to be the next category, he's quick to answer everything he knows instead of waiting politely for everyone else in the group.
By the end, the Worst Responders (Salâs idea) win the night, and they sit with a pitcher of beer, their pride, and a Visa gift card each. When Chimney goes to take a call from Maddie and Sal gets up to use the bathroom, Buck suddenly doesn't know what to say to Tommy.
âThat was pretty amazing, Evan,â Timmy says, raising his glass.
Buck opens his mouth to correct him, but instead he clinks their glasses and says, âNot so bad yourself, Tommy.â
Tommy's eyes dip as they both take long drinks of their beer, and Buck hopes he doesn't have something on his chin. He wipes it with the back of his hand just to be on the safe side.
âMan, I can't believe you can fly,â Buck says, settling back into his chair. âThat's so cool.â
âWell,â Tommy says, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half-smile, âI need the aircraft to fly.â
Buck makes a face at him. âYeah, I know, but it's amazing. I always wanted to learn. When I was traveling, I'd end up on these tiny planes sometimes and always thought it would be fun.â
âI could maybe show you a few things,â Tommy says, resting his elbows on the table. âMy rates are pretty competitive.â
Buckâs reply is cut off by Chimney plopping down next to him.
âHeard a girl talking about you,â Chimney says, nudging Buck and nodding back toward the bar.
He glances but doesnât really see anyone specifically looking at him. He figures sheâll find him if sheâs really interested. His focus goes back to Tommy, who is sliding a coaster around under his finger and smiling to himself a bit, but he doesnât look all that happy. Instead, heâs just sort ofâŠresigned.
âHow competitive?â Buck asks, and Tommy blinks at him.
Tommy looks between Chimney, Buck, and something behind Buck before his eyes settle back on him. âWe can figure something out. Honestly, I donât usually charge friends. Except Sal.â
âFor what?â Chimney asks, frowning at his phone screen.
âThought I might take up flying,â Buck says, shrugging.
Chimney snorts. âYeah. Thatâll last. This kidâs got more hobbies than anyone Iâve ever met. Dude, I think someone stole my credit card number again. Hold up, I gotta call my bank.â
He disappears again, and Buck looks over his shoulder to see Sal is talking to a pretty girl at the bar, and she glances at Buck. When she sees him looking, she smiles shyly before looking back at Sal. If sheâs the girl Chimney was talking about, she is pretty cute.
âI donât have a lot of hobbies,â Buck says, turning his attention back to Tommy. âWell, kind of. I have a lot of interests, I guess. Which, yeah, is kinda weird, but I like the idea of flying. So I would absolutely be down to learn, and Iâd be happy to pay for the fuel or your time or whatever. Itâs like learning a superpower.â
Tommy smiles and slides his phone over. âGo ahead and put your number in.â
Buck does, noticing that the contact name is already filled in as âEvan,â and he doesnât bother correcting that either.
By the time they all leave, Buck has Tommyâs number in his own phone and realizes he forgot to get the girlâs number.
â
Flying is so cool, but Buck thinks Tommy might be a maniac. Heâll do maneuvers that donât feel like they should be physically possible, and then he laughs over the headset. Itâs terrifying and amazing, and Buck is flushed and breathless by the time they land on the tarmac at Harbor Station.
âThat was awesome!â he says. âOkay, yeah, I owe you a beer. A dozen beers.â
Tommy takes off the headset and smiles. âHow about dinner?â
Buck smiles back, though he feels like heâs still trying to catch his breath. âYeah, okay. I could do dinner.â
â
Micelliâs is nice, and theyâve apparently got good beer and good food. Buck finds out that Tommyâs half Italian on his momâs side, which explains a lot about his looks. His nose is so regal from the side, and Buckâs found his eyes tracing its shape more than once. His mom was first generation, so Tommy was practically raised by a bunch of older Italian women and his grandfather until he was in high school.
âSo when you say the food here is good, you know what youâre talking about,â Buck concludes, and Tommy nods. âAlright, I believe you.â
âWhat about your family?â Tommy asks, and Buck shrugs. âYou donât have to answer that.â
âNo, theyâreâŠfine,â Buck says, shrugging again. He still feels raw when he thinks about his parents. âTheyâre, uh, back in Pennsylvania. Except Maddie. I think weâre British? Just sort of, uh, WASP-y? But I donât really know a lot about my family.â
Hell, he knew even less than he ever realized.
âI donât know a lot about my dadâs family,â Tommy says, and it feels like he understands based on the way he says it. It loosens some of the anxiety that had been building in Buckâs chest. âScottish, Irish? Something like that. But I never looked too hard. Italians, though, youâd be hard-pressed to find a family that doesnât want every generation to know every story and legend and the name of every town everyone was ever born in.â
âFamily recipes?â
Tommy snorts. âI have a box of them. Iâve been trying to transcribe them just in case something ever happens to them, but thereâs so many.â
Buck shrugs. âI could help.â
âYeah?â Tommy looks surprised at his offer.
âYeah, Iâm kinda good at that kind of stuff,â he admits. âPlus, hey, I wouldnât say no to learning some new recipes. I feel like Iâm finally really getting the hang of cooking. Maybe I can even teach Bobby a thing or two.â
They start talking about the 118, and Buck is surprised at just how different it used to be. From the sound of it, Tommy was really different. Sal, too. And then Tommy felt like he was able to get a new start at Harbor.
âI just didnât want to die in a closet, you know?â he says, and Buck tries to parse what that could mean. âI wasnât out at the 118. Everyone thought I was straight until, I donât know, my last month there? I finally told them right after my transfer went through.â
Buck blinks, realizing heâd somehow totally missed that Tommyâs gay. He realizes his silence could be taken for discomfort and panics. âTh-thatâs great! Iâm glad you were able to do that. Itâs hard. Itâs a hard thing to go through.â
âYeah,â Tommy agrees, smiling softly. âWell, itâs actually justâŠfreeing. Once you get past actually saying the words.â
âThat sounds amazing,â Buck says, sighing. It does. The idea of feeling free has always felt like something heâs been looking for. Being at the 118 is the closest thing heâs ever found to that, but he wonders if it feels the same.
Tommy hesitates and starts to say something, but then their server arrives to take their food orders. Buck forgets to ask him what he was going to say, because he starts second-guessing what he was going to order and leans across to ask Tommy about one of the dishes. When Tommy leans in to look at where Buckâs pointing on the menu, his forearm presses against Buckâs and radiates heat the same way his hand did when they met, the same way his whole body did when he'd hugged Buck after their flight and when they met outside the restaurant. He wonders if it's a natural thing for him or if it's his muscle mass that does it.
âSo you do like mushrooms?â Tommy asks, and Buck nods. âYeah, you'll love that, then. But save room for dessert.â
âOkay,â Buck says, unable to keep himself from ducking his head and smiling as Tommy confirms with the server that Buck is getting whatever the hell it was Tommy had pointed to. He hadn't been paying attention.
â
He loves Tommyâs house. Itâs got books and movies and records crammed into every available shelf in the living room, and there are cool old tiles in the kitchen and bathrooms that Tommyâs never going to touch even when he updates the rooms.
âKitchenâs next, but I did a lot of the hard work with the electrical and plumbing already,â Tommy explains. He goes to a cabinet above his fridge and reaches in for an old cigar box. When he stretches for it, his shirt rides up and Buck blinks at the strip of skin thatâs exposed. He suddenly feels guilty for staring and forces himself to look at the view of Tommyâs backyard from the window above the sink. âHere they are.â
Tommy sets the box on the counter and flips it open. Inside are old recipe cards, torn out recipes from magazines and ads, swooping writing on yellowed paper, and what looks to be more than one recipe torn out of cookbooks.
Theyâre killing time before a movie thatâs playing at the theater by Tommyâs place, but Buck wants to dive into the recipes and figure out what it was that his family liked or what was important to them, what they held onto across generations, and which ones made little Tommy love desserts so much.
âCan you tell who wrote them?â he asks, carefully turning over a recipe card for some kind of soup made with lentils and sausage.
âSome of them,â Tommy says, leaning over and looking at the card heâs holding. âThat was Prozia Camilla, I think. She always wrote her Bs really weird.â
âWhatâs that?â Buck asks, looking over at Tommy. He realizes heâs close, but itâs not making him uncomfortable. He feels a little warm, but itâs not from discomfort or embarrassment. The heat might be on in the house, or it's just Tommy being a human space heater. âAunt?â
âGreat-aunt,â Tommy clarifies. âAunt is zia, uncle is zioâpretty easy. Nonna, Nonnoâgrandma, grandpa. Cugina, cuginoâcousin, female or male. You add pro for great-aunts and -uncles, bis for great-grandparents. Thereâs one thatâs in a baggy from Bisnonna Valia, I think she wrote it down when Mussolini was in power.â
Buck carefully picks through the box until he finds it, and he doesnât take it out. He does inspect it, though. The paper is translucent and faded, the ink a brown-ish color. âWhatâs it for?â
âCanestrelli. Itâs kind of like a shortbread cookie.â
He likes how Tommy says the words in Italian, the way his mouth shapes the vowels and kind of rolls the Rs but not really, the syllables he emphasizes a little differently than the way Buck probably would if he read the word from a page. Heâd asked Tommy if he spoke Italian, and he sort of did. He mostly just understood it, but he sounded like he knew it whenever he said any of the words.
âThese are amazing,â Buck says softly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of the paper inside its protective plastic. âIs it weird that I wish I knew them? All the people who wrote these down.â
When he glances at Tommy, Tommyâs looking at him and not at the recipe anymore. âNo,â Tommy replies softly. âI donât think thatâs weird at all. They wouldâve loved you.â
Buck grins. âReally?â
âDefinitely.â
He flushes happily at the thought, even if Tommyâs just being nice. When he sets the recipe back in the box, the alarm on Tommyâs phone goes off.
âI kind of want to just look at these,â Buck admits. âBut you said the movieâs really good.â
âEvan, itâs Casablanca,â Tommy says dryly. âItâs literally one of the greatest movies ever made.â
âWell, then I guess we have to go,â Buck teases, closing the box and handing it over to him.
When Tommy puts the box back, Buckâs eyes dip to his ass this time. Itâs really a work of art. He wonders what kind of squats he does.
â
Buckâs a mess.
âYou didnât tell me it would be sad,â he moans as he snacks on the last of his popcorn on the way to Tommyâs truck. Heâd driven, because it was easier than trying to find parking for two cars near the theater.
âA lot of the best romance movies are,â Tommy says. âBut I donât think itâs that sad. He loves her, and he knows sheâs going to be happy. Itâs not like Ghost or Moulin Rouge or Brokeback Mountain or anything.â
âIâve never seen those,â Buck admits. âHow can it get any sadder?â
âI mean, one of them couldâve died.â
Buck sighs. âYeah, I guess. Butâcan you imagine finding the person who makes you feel like that and having to watch them walk away with someone else? People donât realize how awful it feels to just be left behind.â
He realizes heâs projecting a lot onto a movie thatâs eighty years old, but it does suck. Buck would know.
âSometimes you just want to be the one people will stick around for,â he mumbles.
Tommy bumps their shoulders together gently as they walk. âIâm not going anywhere.â
Buck smiles and bumps his shoulder back. âYou say that now.â
âI canât imagine wanting to leave you behind if I could help it, Evan.â
The way he says it makes Buckâs heart thud in his chest, and for a moment heâs worried about another blood clot. He looks over at Tommy, whoâs looking at him, and he smiles.
âThanks,â he says softly.
Tommy puts an arm around his shoulder and squeezes him close for a moment before they get to the truck. Buck gets into the passenger seat and considers the few kernels of popcorn left. He wonders what Tommyâs favorite happy romance movie is and what itâs like, what he likes about it and the characters, if he identifies more with one than the other.
âSo thatâs the best romance movie?â he asks instead.
âI mean, thatâs subjective, right?â Tommy says, turning on the truck and pulling away from the curb. âI think itâs pretty close to being the most objectively perfect one, yeah.â
âIs it your favorite?â
Tommy considers the question for a moment. âIt's up there. It changes, honestly. I really like Love, Actually, but Princess Bride and Moonstruck are amazing, too. Casablanca is pretty perfect, though.â
âThank you for inviting me,â Buck says, smiling. âI did like it. It just, yâknow, made me a little sad. Also, I didnât realize that whole âHereâs looking at you, kidâ thing was a reference. Iâve heard so many people say that and thought it was some idiom I never learned.â
Tommy snorts and shakes his head. âI swear, I will expand your knowledge of movies.â
Buck normally doesnât really care. He doesnât have the same attachment to movies that a lot of his friends have, but he likes Tommy showing him things. The flying, the restaurant, the recipe box, the movieâmaybe Muay Thai? He knows Eddie does it. Buckâs never really had an interest in it, but Tommy had offered to teach him and Buck had twirled his pasta around his fork and said heâd be interested because nothing sounded cooler. Now that heâs seen the set-up in Tommyâs garage, it would be kind of awesome to have one-on-one lessons and then go inside to make old family recipes.
He looks over at Tommy as he drives, and he notes that Tommy seems as at ease behind a wheel as he is doing anything else. He had also seen the car lift in Tommyâs garage, currently empty but awaiting a Chevelle heâd had his eye on that needed work, and he wonders if heâs always liked cars.
As he watches, he also realizes that Tommyâs side profile is pretty perfect. Itâs not just the nose, itâs his entire face. Tommyâs a really handsome guy.
âEvan?â Tommy asks, sounding amused.
âYeah?â
âAre you okay?â
Buck slides down in his seat a little, feeling caught out for some reason. âYeah. Sorry.â
Tommy slows to a stop at the light and looks over at Buck. He smiles and squeezes Buckâs wrist briefly, his huge hand almost engulfing it. He doesnât understand how someone his height can be so big. With his free hand, he reaches over and picks up Tommyâs hand, manipulating the digits until theyâre flat, and he presses their hands together to compare the size. Buckâs never met someone with bigger hands than his who wasnât at least six and a half feet tall, but Tommyâs fingers stretch a little further, his palm is a little broader.
Then Tommy turns his palm just a little and curls his fingers until theyâre between Buckâs, and Buck curls his fingers, too. He smiles and looks up at Tommy, whoâs looking at him intently. It makes Buckâs heart pound again.
A car honks, and Tommy startles a little. He laughs to himself as he continues driving toward his house, both hands back on the wheel, and Buck feels his hand close around nothing, feeling empty.
â
Tommy is walking him to his car, even though itâs parked right in front of his house. Theyâre talking about the next series of movies the theater is showingâold noir stuff, some of which Tommyâs never even seen.
âThat could be cool,â Buck says, putting his hands in his jacket pocket so he wonât reach for Tommyâs hand again. It would be weird. âWe can see when our shifts line up.â
âThey do them all in two month blocks,â Tommy explains wryly. âSo thatâs going to be a lot of calendar checking.â
âWe can always share them to each other,â Buck points out. âFigure out other days we can do stuff.â
Tommyâs eyes look between Buckâs, down to his chin, and back at his eyes again. âLike what?â
Buck smiles and shrugs. âAnything. I mean, weâre kind of the perfect bar trivia partners. We can go around town and hustle all of them out of their gift cards and small cash prizes. But I really do want to help you with the recipe thing. You really think your family wouldâve liked me?â
âEvan, do you have any idea how likeable you are?â Tommy asks, leaning his shoulder against Buckâs door.
âHey, youâre pretty likeable yourself,â Buck says shyly. âYouâre kind of the coolest person Iâve everââ
He doesnât get to finish, because there are two fingers under his chin and a pair of lips on his. For a moment, he freezes, because Tommy is kissing him. That should be weird. Heâs never had a male friend kiss him on the lips unless it was during Spin the Bottle or under mistletoe, and those were always pecks or done with some reluctance on their part. But he can feel Tommy start to pull away and wants anything but that, so he brings his hand up to Tommyâs shoulder and keeps him there while Buck kisses back.
Tommyâs lips are soft, though his stubble is a little scratchy, but Buck doesnât mind it. He really doesnât mind it.
âWas that okay?â Tommy whispers when he does finally pull back.
Buck nods and his eyes drop to Tommyâs lips, which donât look any different than they did a minute ago, but now he knows how they feel against his. He still has a hand on Tommyâs shoulder and brings his other one up to cup his jaw to keep him still when Buck goes in for another kiss.
It feels better than okay. It feels like a real firstâwell, second nowâkiss. He feels like an alarm bell should be going off somewhere in his head, but all heâs getting is a need to feel more of him, to taste more of him.
Theyâre kind of making out against Buckâs Jeep, and Buck is definitely going to need to talk to Hen about this. If he likes kissing a guy just as much as heâs liked kissing a girlâhell, more than heâs liked kissing some girlsâwhat does that mean?
Tommy pulls away again and presses their foreheads together. Theyâre both breathing hard, and Buck wonders if Tommy will ask him to come inside.
âI meant to take this a lot slower,â Tommy says. âYou seemedâŠnew. I know Howie doesnât know, but does anyone?â
Buck wonders if heâd missed something in their conversation. âKnow what?â
âThat youâreââ he gestures between them. Then he pulls back more and searches Buckâs face. âYou are, arenât you?â
âWhat?â he asks again, feeling very slow. He doesnât love the feeling, but he's also still really stuck on the feeling of Tommy's lips.
âWait, are you?â
âOh, my god, Tommy, am I what?â he asks, laughing.
âInto guys?â
Buck blinks. âI donâtâIâve never really thought about it?â
Except for that one time in Texas, but he knew that he came off as flirty sometimes when he didnât mean to. That hadnât been TKâs fault. Hell, TK was gorgeous and a really good firefighter, andâoh.
âOh,â Buck says, raising his eyebrows. âHuh.â
âAre you okay?â Tommy asks, searching Buckâs face for something. Heâs not touching Buck anymore, which kind of sucks.
âYeah.â He looks at Tommy and smiles. âYeah, Iâm great.â
He is. He really is. Itâs a little bit of a shock, but heâs pretty sure heâll be fine. Well, he might need to talk to Hen and Maddie and Bobby.
Then it hits himâTommy walked him to his car. While the sun was up. In a good neighborhood. After the movies. Heâd done the same thing after Micelliâs, after theyâd flown, and heâd hugged Buck every time. It had felt good and warm and safe. But Tommy always walked him to his car.
âWe were just on a date, werenât we?â Buck says slowly, then counts. âLike, our third one. Wait, did you take me flying for our first date?â
âI thought I did,â Tommy says, his brows raised. âDid you really have no idea that I was asking you out?â
Okay, yeah, Tommy had said they should go out sometime before theyâd left the bar the night theyâd met, and Buck had agreed and Tommy had grinned. It had been really distracting.
âHuh,â he says again. âWait, you waited until our third date to kiss me?â
âI thought you needed me to take it slow,â Tommy says, leaning his elbows on the hood and burying his face in his hands. âI thought you were new to this.â
âI mean, I am,â Buck points out. The way Tommyâs leaning makes his ass pop out a little, and his jeans are tight enough that they definitely qualify as date jeans. âMaybe not that new, actually. Itâs normal to check out a hot guyâs ass, right?â
Tommy looks at him incredulously. âEvan, how would I know what straight guys do? Iâm a Kinsey six.â
âRight,â Buck realizes, though heâs still not clear on the second part. âWhatâs a Kinsey six?â
âItâs a scale for sexuality. Iâve never actually been attracted to any women.â
Buck frowns. âReally?â
Heâs found a lot of guys attractive, because that was just a thing Buck could see as a person with eyes. Hell, one of the first things he thought about Connor was that he had a killer smile. Then he had followed him to Los Angeles. From Peru.
âOh,â he realizes, pulling out his phone and looking up âKinsey.â âTwo? I donât know, actually. Iâll have to think about it.â
Tommy huffs out a laugh. âYouâre not, I donât know, mad?â
Buck frowns and puts his phone back in his pocket. âWhy would I be mad?â
âA lot of guys get mad when another guy kisses them if they werenât really expecting it.â
âThat doesnât make sense. You can just tell someone youâre not interested.â His eyes flick down to Tommyâs mouth. âOr figure out that you are.â
âAre you sureââ
âYou should come over so I can cook you dinner,â Buck says, suddenly wanting nothing more than to see Tommy in his loft and at his table. In his bed? Yeah, probably. âSaturday?â
Tommy smiles. âYou mean tomorrow?â
Buck thinks about it. âYeah. Tomorrow.â
When Tommy kisses him again, Buck wraps his arm around his shoulders and spreads his hand over Tommyâs side. Tommy moans softly against his mouth, and Buckâs lips part further so he can tease his tongue against Tommyâs lips.
âJesus, kid,â Tommy breathes when the kiss breaks, and it sends a bolt of heat through Buckâs belly. So, yeah, definitely guys. Guys are good. At least one is.
Buckâs phone goes off, and he reluctantly checks it. Maddieâs due pretty soon, so he canât ignore his phone just in case itâs her.
It is, and Buck answers quickly.
âMaddie?â he says before mouthing an apology to Tommy. âAre you okay? Is the babyââ
âBuck,â she says. âAre you still coming over for dinner?â
Oh, right. The reason theyâd done the matinee show for the movie. Buckâs supposed to be having a sibling dinner with his sister. Heâs now late for it and feels like a dick.
âI am so sorry, I forgot. Iâll be there in twenty, twenty-five minutes? Do you need me to get anything on the way?â
âIf you could get me enough garlic bread to fill your car, Iâd be so happy.â
Buck snorts. âI can get some. Maybe not that much. But Iâll stop, just turn the oven on. Iâll see you soon, okay?â
âOkay!â she says brightly. âBye.â
âBye,â he says, hanging up. âIâm sorry. I didnât realize what time it was, and I did actually forget. I got, uh, distracted.â
Tommy smirks. ââDistractedâ?â
Buck swallows and nods, his eyes going to Tommyâs lips again. âYeah.â
âGod, youâre adorable.â
Heâs never had a guy call him that before. He likes it.
âIâll see you tomorrow,â Tommy says. âWhen do you want me over?â
âS-six?â Buck says, feeling himself sway toward Tommy like theyâve got magnets in their mouths. âFive. You start early on Sunday, right?â
âSo do you,â Tommy points out.
âOh, yeah,â Buck says dumbly. He goes in for another kiss, but itâs quick. Tommy pushes him back gently with a hand to his chest and nudges their noses together briefly before stepping away. âBye.â
âBye, Evan,â Tommy says, smiling and going toward his house.
Buck fumbles with his keys before he finally unlocks the Jeep, and he watches Tommy until he goes inside. Itâs a thing heâs always done on dates. When Tommy waves before heading inside, Buck waves for a long time until the door is closed.
âFuck, okay, garlic bread,â he says, turning the Jeep on. He grins the entire way to the store.
While he walks through Ralphâs, he also looks for stuff to use for the dinner heâs going to make for Tommy. On their date. Their fourth date.
Buck knows heâs standing in the middle of the baking ingredients aisle and smiling at his phone like an idiot. He knows that heâs going to spend half of his Saturday trying to perfect some kind of dessert. He knows he canât wait to see Tommy and that heâs felt that way every time heâs seen him since they met.
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when wag!reader tells basketballplayer!drew that she's going out, he wants to see her outfit, which quickly turns into more than just a quick showing . . . . .
warnings/notes: mutual masturbation kinda, phone sex, lots of teasing, drew being controlling ?, this is moreso the build up of it all, rather than the actual mutual masturbation (the build up is so much hotter imo ...) and kind of cut off at the end srryyy buuuuut hope you enjoy <3 ALSO iâm trying out something new, where i add tumblr links to show !readersâ outfit, pls lmk if you like <3
you told drew you were going out tonight, the first thing he said to that was âfacetime me.â via imessage. you thought maybe he outgrew his possessive phase of the relationship, but you were slowly learning that it was just a part of him. even though he told you to facetime him, he beat you to it. âjesus christ.â you mumbled to yourself before hitting âjoin callâ.
âyouâre still doing this?â you set your phone down on your vanity, taking a few steps back so drew could see your whole outfit, despite complaining you still complied. part of you grew hot and heavy over drew getting so possessive.
drew noticed the small things about your outfit. not the details a normal guy would; the intentional picking of your earrings or necklace, or how some nights youâd wear sluttier outfits if you and him argued a few days before. âwhatâs with the big jacket?â he questioned. âwhat? you donât like it? you bought it for me.â you looked at yourself through the facetime call, possibly second guessing your fashion choices.
âno itâs cute. just wonderinâ. spin.â drew demanded. the way he was staring so intently at the screen made you a little scared, like you might be getting in trouble for what heâs about to see. âwhat the fuck y/n. why is your whole ass out? jesus christ.â he snatched his phone from wherever it was stood up, you assumed he must have had his teammates around him. you rolled your eyes. âwhen is it not out?â
âyeah but itâs like really out today.â you watched drew get up from wherever he was sat. and wherever he went he closed the door behind him. âiâm in the bathroom.â he whispered. âokay?â you said confused, but also knowing exactly what direction this facetime was headed. âdo a lil spin for me again.â drew smirked at the screen.
âare you fucking serious?â you held back a giggle. âcmonnn, donât tease me.â drew pleaded with you. you gave in because he looked so fucking good. his basketball hat and mustache just calling your name through the screen.
you did as drew said, giving a him a lil spin, and even forcing your jean skirt up ever higher, which honestly didnât seem possible given how high it already was. âfuck baby. youâre so fucking fine.â drewâs head fell back. you really didnât know what you did to him, you had no idea actually, and he didnât think that lightly. âwhat panties you wearinâ?â drew touched over the growing bulge in his pants.
âthe ones you bought me.â you said, referring to the black and pink thong he bought you just a week before. âlemme see baby.â god he was going fucking crazy. facetiming his girl in his teammates house about to jerk his shit to the mere look of you in your outfit? this might have been a new low for him.
you bent over for drew, giving your ass a little shake for him. you giggled to yourself before grabbing your phone off your vanity and running over to your bed and saying âokay my turn! bicep time!â
âreally?â drew chuckled, he never understood why you liked his biceps so much, but nonetheless he flexed his arms for you in the bathroom mirror. you were lucky because today he was even willing to take off his shirt, you got to see it all; his big arms, his beefy shoulders, and his toned stomach. god, you wish you could just ride his stomach. but unfortunately you remembered you were literally on the phone. âyouâre so fucking hot. wanna ride your stomach and grab your big arms.â you moaned out, not even realizing that your hand was on your clit, rubbing circles.
âyeah? what else baby?â drew groaned. you both got too lost in moment to realize you were talking each other through it ⊠on the phone.
after you both came (in every sense of the word) to your senses, you both got kind of quiet. âokay well. bye.â you started reading for the red button. âchange your out-â you cut drew off before he could finish.
#âčâ works â#âčâ fics â#ê° âč basketballplayer!drew âĄ#ê° âwag!reader ⥠ê±#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x female reader#drew starkey x y/n#drew starkey x you#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey headcanons
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hey girl!! so i was rewatching season 3 and saw the part where max and eleven are playing the spin the bottle and spying on people and had an idea! what if the reader is babysitting them and the girls drag her in to play and they spin in on steve, so sheâs like âalright thatâs enoughâ bc she doesnât want to invade on her friends privacy but she sits through it anyway, and she hears him talking to robin about how much he likes her and wants to ask her out. IDK i thought that was cute :))
donât hate the game
A/N: UR SO RIGHT THIS IS SO CUTE. Iâm so glad i FINALLYYY found motivation to tackle it <3 (gif creds: @buckysbarnes)
Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Summary: The girls convince you to play an embarrassing party game from your past. Itâs nothing like you remember. 2.4k words
Warnings: pet names (sweetheart, honey), âlikeâ, overthinking, implied bullying, stupid pining, insecurity
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It's a Friday night in the middle of summer, and you're wondering how you got here. Well, actually you're in your living room, so it's not that great of a mystery, but more confusing than that, you're letting two adolescent girls teach you how to play spin the bottle. If someone had told you at graduation that this is where you'd end up, you'd laugh right in their face.
Who's laughing now.
"But!" Max says, "if you hadn't noticed, none of these people are in the room, so how would we kiss them?"
You fight the urge to sink into your seat, blithely nodding and avoiding anything that might alienate you from your younger counterparts. You're almost sorry you surrendered your night to babysit two capable teens, but you promised El's dad who promised to pay you handsomely. Plus, they seem to like you enough to find you cool. Enough to tell you teenage secrets and complain about their boyfriends.
As they're explaining the rules, a memory creeps in of the first time you ever played this godforsaken party game. On Steve Harrington's floor in eighth grade. The cheers dying off as the mouth of the bottle slowed to a stop in your direction. No one expected him to actually lean over and kiss you. Or that you'd stay good friends despite his high school career soaring into stardom while yours sort of... didn't.
"We don't kiss them!" El chirps with an excited glint in her eye. The girls lean in like it's the first time they're hearing the rules but you're almost certain they made them up.
"Right. Instead, El here becomes our spy. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but she can see into their conversations or something. It's wicked." Max looks to El with something like admiration.
Intrigued, you glance down at the post-it notes arranged in a circle, scribbled with assorted names from yearbooks and yellow pages. A few you recognize: Mike and Lucas, one of the Hawkins Middle math teachers, even Willâs mom wasnât safe from their antics.
But among the many names, you're most drawn to Steve. The way the letters loop and curl into his name, you go a little dizzy imagining that you really were playing the game. That he was seated across from you now. That he might lean over like he did the first time while your mind raced with a thousand possibilities. It's a prank or a dare or his wholehearted commitment to the game, anything other than his own free will.
You blink out of your silly, nostalgia-fueled trance when Max presses the cold glass bottle to your palm.
"You first."
They giggle and fall into each other when you half-twist the bottle. You're still in disbelief that you agreed to this as you watch the bottle spin, ticking off names as it loses momentum.
"Who is that?" you ask, leaning closer as if you'd read the yellow post-it wrong.
"Oh," El says. She cringes away from the board and crosses her arms over her chest in defiance.
"That bitch from P.E.," Max grumbles, and you have half a mind to scold her if you handât found universal bitch-aversion endlessly amusing. "You can spin again, she's not worth the trouble anyway."
You imagine your dream game once again. The bottle flies in the other direction at your fingertips, haywire and picking up a new gravity. It draws a wild, fiery line beneath your stare as you consider the possibility of Steve. It slows and slows until it's spinning almost at the same pace as Earth from a distance. Listening to the roaring sound of the universe as the bottle turns. Turns and turns and turns. Your eyes light up.
The girls giggle.
"No," you say sternly, regretting all your daydreams and fantasies in the face of cold, hard reality. "No, not Steve."
"Please!" they whine.
"Ladies, that's enough. He's a good friend, we're not spying on him."
They act like kicked puppies, though you know they're tricking you as they pout and bat their eyes. You know they know more than they should. About you. You and your feelings towards Steve Harrington. Something they discovered through a quiz in some teeny bopper magazine or other. Those magazines that somehow hold the secrets of the universe and the answers to every haircare question.
âCome on, Iâll make us popcorn and we can start a movie. A horror, if you really want.â
They seem satisfied enough, springing to the couch and settling into the cushions there.
The stove heats slowly. You fish through your cabinet for the last pan of Jiffy Pop, peeling back the thin cardboard cover when you hear snickering from the other room.
âWhatâs he saying?â Max whispers. You strain to hear her with your back pressed to the wall, just out of sight.
You shouldnât be eavesdropping. You know better. Youâre not a prepubescent girl anymore, youâre the babysitter with responsibilities. Like a job. Yet, you canât seem to pull yourself away from the doorway. Every time you hear his name, your heart soars with what-ifs. You feel your eyes slip closed as El speaks.
âSteve is speaking to someone. I see herââYour heart sinksââRobin!â
You selfishly let out a breath. Youâre mostly thankful heâs not spending his evening alone, but you also knew his friendship with Robin was strictly platonic. Robin had sworn by it without you even having to raise the question. You didnât have to, she said, she could see it in your face. You wondered if Steve found you that transparent.
âHeâs talking about⊠A girl. Her eyes. A smile. And heâs smiling, too. Oh, wait, now heâs frowning because Robin flicked him,â she says with a playful lilt.
She gasps.
âWhat?â Max yelps, shifting closer on the squeaky couch.
âSteve wants to confess his feelings. Big feelings, he says. Like-like.â
You not sure if thatâs Elâs paraphrase of Steveâs so-called big feelings or if the term like-like came from his own mouth. Neither option would surprise you. What does surprise you is that youâd never heard any of this from Steve before. You liked to think you were friends, even one of his best friends. He was surely one of yours. You told each other almost everything because you canât exactly discuss complex relationships and sex with middle schoolers.
But youâd never heard of Steveâs seemingly new, mystery like-liker lover.
âHeâs thinking of asking her out. Robin told him he might as well, itâs obvious that the girl heâs talking about likes him back. He doesnât agree,â El says, her brows furrowed beneath the thick black blindfold, âRobinâs shouting. Steve looks sad.â
âWhatâs she saying?â Max whispers.
âShh! âYou like her so much, you might as well tell her and let her react. But Iâll say this, sheâs going to say yes. That girl has been in love with you since the eighth gradeâ. Heâs thinking.â
âThink faster, hair-brain!â
El giggles, her face suddenly falling serious. ââReally?ââ You stifle a laugh at the deeper voice she affects.
ââSheâs never said anything to me about itâ. Robin looks angry. âObviously, dingus! Do you go around telling people youâre in love with them?ââ
âShe has a point,â Max says. âWhoâs he talking about?â
âI donât knowâOh! Here we go,â El huffs, fists clenched eagerly, âHeâs making a plan to ask her out, heâs going to call her. Heâs getting upââ
Just then, the popcorn bursts from its aluminum confines with a bang. You let out a strangled noise between a yelp and a grumble, annoyed at the rude and very loud interruption. As you set the burner knob in place, you consider the fact that Steve has very real feelings for someone else. Someone whoâs just not you. And as you shake the popcorn into a ceramic bowl, the landline rings.
âWill someone get that?â you call, grabbing a few small packages of sweets stashed in the cabinet. You hear the girls spring from the couch, and you shuffle into the living room to a giddy scene huddled around the receiver.
âYes, sheâs here!â El squeals. Thereâs a muffled response from the other line, and they share a conspiratorial glance.
âItâs for you,â Max says, handing you the phone with a smirk.
âThank you. Go pick a movie while the popcornâs hot.â You clear your throat, preparing yourself for the worst. Maybe your boss firing you or a repo man taking your TV. âHello?â
âHi, sweetheart, I didnât mean to interrupt girlâs night, I can call back later,â Steveâs gentle voice filters clear through the speaker. In the silence, static hums, and you press the phone closer to your ear.
Trying to listen for what he might be thinking. He sounds like rain. Like Sunday and a lack of pressure. He sounds inviting and warm like that big green sweater heâs always wearing. If only you knew he wears it because you adore it. You tell him every time; why would he ever stop.
âNo!â you chirp, âno, perfect timing actually, we were just about to start a movie.â
âOh! That sounds fun,â he says. You fidget with the springy cord, facing away from the living room and from the attention of the two flittering girls.
âYeah,â you say, hoping he doesnât recognize the disappointment coloring your tone. âSo, howâd it go?â
He chokes a little. âHowâd⊠what? Go?â Thereâs a soft snicker from the other line at his incidental voice crack.
âYour⊠I mean, did you have something you wanted to tell me?â
The line dips, but you hadnât heard the telltale plastic clatter of a hang up. Just soft shuffling and a curse from under his breath. You curdle at the near silence.
âWhat did Robin tell you?â he grumbles.
âWhat? Nothing. Was she supposed to?â
âWell, no! I just called to tell youââ
He goes silent, and this time youâre actually convinced he hung up. Thereâs no sound at all, and you double check your receiver to make sure the problemâs not on your end.
âStevie?â
âYep, sorry. Just⊠feel silly.â
âOkay, youâre starting to scare me a little,â you hum, clutching onto the handheld.
âNo! Sorry, not trying to scare you, honey, I just need to get something off my chest. But itâs not scary. Or, well, I guess it could be taken that way, and that would be okay. A little sad, but yeah, no hard feelingsââ
At this point, youâre sure heâs talking about his prospective date. He knows you have a stupid, obvious crush on him, and heâs trying to soften the blow of new romantic conquest. Of course, introducing his new girlfriend to you would be terrifying, but youâd always put on a brave face for Steve. He knows that. Heâd do the same for you.
âSteve?â
âYeah.â
âJust get it over with,â you sigh, leaning your head against the wall and bracing for heartache.
âRight. Not trying to waste your time. Here goes.â
Iâve got a new, smoking hot girlfriend who just agreed to go on a date with me. And sheâs got beautiful eyes and a gorgeous smile, and Iâve been in love with her since I can remember, and weâre gonna run away together forever and get married and have perfect babies.
âI like you,â he huffs.
âWell, duh, I like you, too, youâre only my closest friend,â you say. Youâre tense, waiting for the other shoe to come hurling through the skylight. âNow, tell me.â
âNo, sweetheart, I like-like you. Have since I was nine. Miss Boydâs class, if Iâm not mistaken.â Thereâs a soft thud like his forehead colliding with the wall beside his phone.
You inhale a shaky breath. Heâs kidding, and itâs a prank. Your heart races, and you want to curse him out for picking on you. He should know better. Right?
âSteve,â you warble, âplease tell me youâre joking.â
Thereâs more shuffling, muffled voices, and you think youâve just exposed one long drawn out joke. Youâre about to hang up with whatâs left of your dignity when he says:
âAre you rejecting me?â
He sounds almost mad. Hair ruffled, skin on edge. How you imagine his father might sound just before one of his awful fits. But thereâs something much softer to Steve, more understanding. Hurt like a child.
Still, you canât help you suspicion.
âQuit it. I know itâs a joke, donât drag it out.â
âHey, wait a second,â he urges, âItâs not a joke. I like you. A lot.â He says it so softly, your heart just might believe him. As if all the stars have aligned, and heâs actually confessing his feelings for you. You didnât think the stars did that. Not really, anyway.
Thereâs a new tune to his voice youâd almost name teasing, âcâmon, donât leave me hanginâ.â
And just like that, heâs back in school again, fawning over you from a distance, finding an excuse to tag you during recess only to avoid you in class so you wouldnât see him blush. Heâs back to whispered secrets through the phone at midnight so heâs parents wouldnât catch him. He only ever told you what wouldnât give him away. Heâs back to not letting you pay for your ice cream and shrugging it off with a smile. Heâs back, and he might just be yours.
âIâSorry, you like me? Like like-like, like enough to ask me on a real date?â you huff. He chuckles.
âWell, that last part kinda depends on whether or not you like me back. But yes, I like-like like like-like you.â
You spin to face the living room only to be confronted by an empty popcorn bowl and two fidgety, blushing, wide-eyed teens. They urge you for answers, gesturing wildly and wiggling towards you across the floor.
âOf course, I like you. I thought you knew.â
âEveryone keeps saying that. I guess I was too distracted,â he admits.
âI guess we both were,â you say, unable to keep a grin from your face, succumbing to joy as your fingers dance along the telephone cord.
âSo, how about that date?â It escapes him barely above a whisper. He canât believe heâs actually saying it after all this time. The only thing that convinces him it even came out is your soft laughter.
âSounds wonderful!â
âGood!â he coos.
âIâll see you tomorrow then?â
âGreat, yeah. Thatâs⊠I canât wait.â Heâs earnest until his cheeks hurt, and Robin teases him for it.
âTomorrow, it is,â you purr, nearly in tune with the low hum of the receiver, âIâll call you later.â
âBye, sweetheart. Donât forget: I like-like you.â
You smile, slotting the phone back into its place. A chorus of giggles erupts at your feet. Spin the bottle had been a good idea, after all.
stranger things masterlist
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader fluff#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fluff#stranger things x reader#x reader#x fem!reader#spin the bottle#friends to lovers
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Important! Treat kids like people! Iâm an educator and itâs amazing how receptive kids are to listening to reason and changing their behaviour, or at least trying to, if you pull them aside - instead of embarrassing them in front of their peers - and ask them what the hellâs up instead of just talking at them.
The other day a kid was being rude to his partner that I had paired him with for a task, ignoring her and refusing to do any work. I asked if he was ok, he shrugged and said yes. I told him he needed to contribute and treat his partner with respect, then moved on. Came back a few mins later, nothing had changed. I asked him to come have a word. Pulled him out of earshot of the kids and asked if something was wrong. He said no. I said ok but you are acting like youâre upset or angry. Are you upset or angry? He said no (in an upset and angry way lmao). I asked if his partner was the problem. No. The task? No. Bear in mind this kid was like 12 so it could well have just been hormones. I am not his usual teacher, I donât know him, so if there was something personal going on for him itâs pretty fair to not want to tell me, a stranger.
At this point I just said look Iâm gonna be real with you. You clearly donât want to talk to me about this and I respect that. But here are the facts. You are in class. You have class work to do and a partner who is currently doing it all by herself when everyone else gets help from a partner. Is that fair? He agreed itâs not fair. I said itâs ok if youâre not feeling great and you canât give 100%, but you need to at the very least be polite to your partner and try to contribute a little bit to the work. I said if I saw him doing that bare minimum then we can all get on with our day, but if I saw him continue to ignore and do nothing then he was going to have to stay in at break time to make up for his partners wasted time. Asked if he understood. Got a nod and a shrug, good enough.
Literally a minute later he was talking to his partner and suggesting something for their task. A few minutes after that they were laughing and chatting. Didnât have any issues with him for the rest of the day.
Back when I was a less experienced teacher I used to come down hard on kids who were being disrespectful, mostly because I was trying to be âan authority figureâ or whatever. I would have been more likely to scold that kid in front of his partner and his peers, give him an ultimatum, or taken his moodiness as rudeness against me personally. I donât recall getting great results with any of that crap. He probably would have ended up staying in and ruining both our break times. Kids are just normal people and how many people do you know who react well to being humiliated, talked down to, or punished without given a chance to discuss or appeal it?
I know teaching is different from parenting but Iâve been working with kids for quite a few years now and itâs honestly the main thing Iâd say Iâve learned about them, and itâs laughably simple: they are people, they have a perspective and they understand fairness, and they will respond a LOT better to being spoken with like an equal than being talked at like a lesser being. Whoâd have thought????
I am exceptionally lucky in that my parents never hit me, grounded me, confiscated my things, banned me from my hobbies or threatened any of these actions to make me behave as a kid. as an adult it has made me realise how very very long a road most people have to traverse before they can take a statement like 'no rule that must be enforced by threat is legitimate' seriously.
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Another sexy thought: getting your nails done and jack enjoying the way you leave scratches on his back. And then next day in the locker room the boys seeing it ;)
Or like fans seeing hickeys or sumn on him which we have never seen publicly đââïžđ„
đ„ anon giving you the biggest digital hug for blessing me with all these asks đ„č keep them coming please đđ©·đ€ good luck on your test tomorrow!!!!!!!!
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+18 -> smut | marking up Jack + helping him relax
đđȘđŹđŽ đđŸđ°đ±đźđŒ đ đŻđźđ¶đȘđ”đź đ»đźđȘđđźđ»
c/w: jealousy, ownership, swearing, pet names, scratching, marking, sucking fingers, fingering, massage, sexting, exchanging nudes.
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âïœĄ °â©â ËïœĄ âàšà§â ïœĄË ââ©Â° ïœĄâ
You look up at the TV, watching as the camera pans across the ice, catching glimpses of players skating through drills with their usual intensity. And then, as expected, the focus shifts to Jack. He steps off the ice, his damp fringe falling across his forehead as he bites and slides off his glove, breathing heavily.
The stunning reporter steps forward with her microphone, her smile practically gleaming under the bright arena lights. âYouâre going for the big win tonight. Howâs the energy in the locker room?â Her voice is sticky-sweet. She tilts her head when she looks at him, her interest in the handsome Center bleeding through her thin veil of professionalism.
Jack, to his credit, is polite but unmoved. âEnergyâs good,â he says, his tone cool, efficient. âWeâre focused.â
âAnd if you guys pull off the win, any big plans to celebrate?â Her lashes flutter as her body angles toward him more, hoping for a little extra charm.
Jack gives her a small, polite smile. âThe usual,â he says simply.
The reporter blinks, clearly hoping for more. âWell, thereâs a lot to do in Vegas. The usual? Do you have something you usually do when youâre here?â She prompts, laughing lightly.
âJust hanging out with my girl.â
âïœĄ °â©â ËïœĄ âàšà§â ïœĄË ââ©Â° ïœĄâ
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âïœĄ °â©â ËïœĄ âàšà§â ïœĄË ââ©Â° ïœĄâ
Jack had just finished showering, his hair curling at the ends as he walks over, already reaching for your hands. âLemme see,â he murmurs, taking your fingers in his own. He turns them over, inspecting your fresh set like itâs the prettiest thing in the world. âPink? I love it.â
âItâs the colorââ
âOf my tip?â He chuckles, putting two and two together.
âHow did you know that?â You tease as you run your hands down his chest.
âWell, Iâve looked at it a few times, princess,â he rasps, letting out a breathy chuckle.
âApproved?â
âDefinitely,â he mumbles, and like clockwork, he starts rolling out his neck and his shoulders, wincing in pain. You raise your brow at him, trying not to laugh at his predictability.
âYeah, baby?â
Jack just shrugs, feigning innocence. âYou know how it goes,â he says through a boyish smile.
âMhmmâŠâ You hum, reaching for the hem of his shirt, helping him out of it as always.
Jackâs skin is still warm from the shower, his tight muscles melting already from the slightest touch from you. As soon as he hits the hotel bed, he lets out a deep, contented sigh, sprawling out on his stomach.
His beautiful blue eyes follow you as you crawl onto the bed; his smile spreads wider as you move closer and closer until youâre climbing on, running your fingers down his strong back, watching as goosebumps spread across his dewy skin. Jack shivers, letting out a groan that sends heat coursing through you.
âFuck, baby,â he moans at the slightest touch.
âYouâre so easy,â you tease, dragging my nails over his broad shoulders before pressing them into the tight knots you knew youâd find.
âShittt,â he chuckles, exhaling sharply as you nail that perfect spot, working out the tension. âFeels so fucking good, pretty,â he mutters, voice muffled against the plush comforter.
You let your finger drift into his damp brown hair, scratching your manicured fingers against his scalp. âFuck me,â he groans, turning his head slightly, eyes half-lidded. âI love when you get your nails done,â he murmurs, voice drowsy, utterly relaxed beneath your touch as he lets out a little yawn.
You smile as you twirl your fingers through his hair. âYeah, baby?â
âFuck yeah,â he sighs, letting his heavy eyes fall closed. âShit, princess, theyâre kinda sharp. You should keep âem like this forever.â
Leaning down to press a kiss to the back of his neck, feeling his slow, leveled pulse thump under your lips. âIâll think about it.â
Jack hums in reply, already halfway asleep, completely at peace. âGotta keep me up, princess,â he huffs. âIâm gonna pass the fuck out.â
You press your nails a little harder into his back, making his muscles tense for a second before he softens into the mattress. âToo much?â You ask, pausing slightly.
âNoâNo, keep goinâ,â he murmurs, voice rough with contentment. âSâperfect.â
You smile as you watch the faint red marks appear where your nails drug down, the contrast between his skin and the marks leaving you oddly satisfied. Your mind drifts for a moment as you glance up at the TV, watching some highlights from the last Devilâs game, before the camera throws back to the reporter from this morning.
The interview from earlier plays again on muteâand the way sheâs leaning in is just a little too much; the way she practically preened when Jack gave her the slightest smile boiling your blood.
Would she try again after the game tonight? Probably.
âFuck,â Jack hisses as you find yourself so caught up in your thoughts that you didnât realize how hard you had dug into his skin until it had already happened.
âOh, shitââ You gasp, but Jack just laughs, shifting slightly underneath you as he cranks his neck a little more to look back at you.
âDonât stop,â he assures, his voice dazed out but amused nonetheless.
You chuckle and shake your head, letting your nails trail more deliberately over his tight skin. Your pointer finger traces from shoulder blade to shoulder blade, following the place where HUGHES usually sits on gameday.
You scratch your nails into his skinâdigging your initials inâwatching as they shift red. Jack lets out a deep, knowing laugh, his voice vibrating through his chest. âI know what youâre doing, baby,â he teases.
You giggle breathily, leaning down until your lips brush against the shell of his ear, tits pressed against him. âI got a little jealous today,â you admit.
âReally?â He drags out the word, completely aware.
âYeah,â you whisper against his hot skin, trailing soft kisses down his neck. Your fingers continue to work the muscles in his shoulders, kneading out the tension as your mouth moves lower. You hit the perfect spot, sitting right above where you know the collar of his sweater will sit.
He doesnât stop you, instead slithering his hand behind his back, slipping under the band of your shorts and panties, finding your clit.
You suck down on his neck as he rolls his fingers on top of your sex, groaning when he feels just how wet you are; knowing this close to the game time, heâll have to wait to sink his thick dick deep, but he loves to tease.
âRoll over,â you whisper, watching as Jack obeys without hesitation. His fingers find you fast, slipping your little shorts to the side this time. He dips the tip of his rough finger in your soaked hole, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your body, so warm and wet.
You lean in, pressing your lips to his, slow and deep, savoring how he immediately wraps his other arm around you, pulling you closer.
He sighs against your lips, his fingers pushing deep, soaking his digits with your essence. âI donât know why I do this to myself,â he chuckles as he continues to torment himself with the thought of ruining you before his game.
âAll night long?â
âAll night long, princess.â
You pull back, resting your hands on his firm chest. Jack looks up at you as you trace your fingers higher, circling the hickey forming on his neck.
âYou know,â he starts, his voice low and rough, âyou always tease me for liking to mark you upâŠâ
âBecause you do,â you giggle breathily, watching a smirk spread on his kiss-swollen lips.
âYeah, I do. And now youâre over here claiming me like youâre territorial or somethinâ.â
âI am,â you smile.
Jack chuckles, shaking his head slightly. âI love it when you wear my jersey,â he murmurs, one hand drifting up your back again. âYou think itâs just because I like how you look in it, but nah⊠I love marking you, too. Anyway, I can.â
His fingers slid down your arm, slow and deliberate, before reaching your hand. He lifts your hand, pressing soft kisses on your fingers, slipping your middle and ring fingers in his mouth as he looks up at you.
âIâm gonna put a ring on this finger on day,â he murmurs, his voice warm and confident. âMark you up some more.â Your heart swells in your chest, thudding at his words as he gives them one last kiss.
âïœĄ °â©â ËïœĄ âàšà§â ïœĄË ââ©Â° ïœĄâ
The locker room was buzzing with post-game energyâsweaty jerseys half-peeled off, the scent of ice and sweet hanging heavy in the air. The boys were loud, buzzing over their win as the media caught their post-game celebration.
Jack steps closer to his stall, pulling off his jersey, awareâmore than usualâas the cameras linger. He peels off his compression shirt, dragging it over his head slowly and deliberately. The cool air hits his skin as he drops the fabric to the bench beside him before turning around fastâthin, perfect lines left behind by your nails shamelessly shown.
He runs his fingers through his hair, smiling at something someone said before tossing a wink their way; one of the players in the locker room no doubt saying some shit about it already. The second the red light on the camera cuts and the reporter and crew leaves, the chirping starts.
âJesus, Rowdy,â one of the guys laughs. âYou get in a fight we didnât see?â
Another voice chimes in, laughing. âNah, those arenât from the game, boys.â
Jack rolls his eyes, reaching for a towel as another teammate whistles low. âAnd the hickey?â
âEnough, Jack,â mumbles smugly.
âBlushing like a slut, bud.â
The whole room erupts in a mix of laughter and groans, somewhere between teasing and outright jealousy.
âSettle down, alright?â Jack laughs.
âThe placementâsomeone sending a message?â Luke adds as he gives him a knowing glance. Jack smiles, shaking his head as he wipes his face, trying to hide it. âHe fuckinâ loves itââ
âYeah, yeah, alright,â Jack mutters, but he doesnât deny it. He doesnât even bother because Lukeâs right. He fuckinâ loves it.
đžđđđđđđđđđ
#jack hughes#hughesmuse86 ââ©ËËË#asks answered đ§ž#jack hughes smut#jack hughes x fem!reader#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#jack hughes blurb#jack hughes fic#jack hughes imagine#jack hughes smau#jack hughes x female reader#nhl smut#nhl fanfiction#nhl fic#hockey x reader#hockey smut
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â° đđšđČđđ«đąđđ§đ đŁđŁ đĄđđđđđđ§đ§đšđ§đŹ
â kook or pogue; doesnât matter, simply your sweet boyfriend, jj
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rating: sfw â cw: slightly suggestive
â boyfriend jj who⊠insists on physically lifting you into and out of the boat every time, or at the very least holding your hands. the one time you leapt out when his back was turned, you lost your footing and almost tumbled into the water, to which jj was very displeased: âalright, nope, see, thatâs why we donât do that.â
â boyfriend jj who⊠thinks youâre the funniest person on the planet â the way he cackles at every joke you tell makes you question if itâs forced, or exaggerated at the least, but that couldnât be further from the truth. your humor matches his so perfectly that everything you say or do he only wishes he would have thought of first. the two of you are constantly a nonstop giggling mess full of silly inside jokes and plain stupidity.
â boyfriend jj who⊠thrives off of long hugs with you; specifically when it feels more like youâre just holding him. hiding his face in your neck and breathing you in calms his nerves in a way that smoking weed never could.
â boyfriend jj who⊠is absolutely mesmerized by everything you do; whether that be your makeup (he thinks youâre the artist and the art), or simply steering the boat (the way the wind blows in your hair and the sun highlights each and every shade is unreal). he often finds himself completely zoned out of reality with soft blue eyes as he marvels in awe at everything that is you. he's often chewing the inside of his lip as he stares, quickly averting his gaze to his hands when you look his way, though itâs always so obvious.
â boyfriend jj who⊠loves when you come to watch him surf, though itâs stressful watching him disappear under the waves for what feels like minutes at a time. but, without fail, he always ends up running to you with a big, toothy smile as he wraps a cold, muscular arm around your waist, pressing wet, salty lips to yours as he beams with excitement: âbabe, did you fuckinâ see that?!â
â boyfriend jj who⊠isnât too good at saying âi love youâ but shows it in everything he does: plucking you random flowers (and weeds, though he doesnât know that), fixing your top as you chat amongst friends, keeping a hair tie on his wrist because he just knows youâre going to need one, always keeping physical touch with you in some way (absentmindedly twirling your hair, resting your legs on his lap, holding your hand, leaning on your shoulder).
â boyfriend jj who⊠tries to contain his himself but is more than willing to get in a fight when it comes to you; whether it be one too many comments made about you in order to taunt him or another manâs hand lingering on yours for way too long, jj is quick to set things straight no matter who it puts him up against.
â boyfriend jj who⊠gets jealous very easily but tries his hardest to control it. before you started dating, he would simply avert his attention or walk away from any situation involving you and a guy, knowing he shouldnât be jealous but he couldnât help it. now that youâre officially his, his emotion is worn clearly on his face.
â boyfriend jj who⊠falls asleep virtually anywhere, as long as you were around. he hates it, obviously wanting to be awake when heâs with you, but the feeling of genuine comfort and safety you give him is nothing like heâd ever felt at home, or anywhere, so he often finds his head on your lap or shoulder, fighting a slumber.
â boyfriend jj who⊠likes to take off his cap and place it backwards on your head whenever youâre making out, always laughing into the kiss whenever it inevitably falls over your eyes.
â boyfriend jj who⊠noticed your awestruck reaction to once finding the âperfectâ seashell in the sand and now brings you the prettiest, shiniest, most perfect seashells he can find â no matter who it inconveniences: âdude, itâs been, like, twenty minutes! canât we just buy one somewhere?â pope groaned. âyeah, let me get a fake i.d. and forge a check, too, since weâre frauds now,â jj scoffed.
â boyfriend jj who⊠has absolutely no filter so he often just says things that you then have to somehow answer for: âis your hair supposed to look like that?â heâd wonder aloud innocently. âjj!â youâd whisper before clearing your throat, âhe just means did you have to use any product or-or anything or is it naturally so pretty?â
â boyfriend jj who⊠remembers all the little things about you, despite his forgetful and oblivious nature, often taking you by surprise when he mentions them: ânah, you wonât like that, sâgot peanut butter in it.â or "wait, the same girl who kicked down your sandcastle in third grade? i hate that bitch. sorry, sorry, continue.â
â boyfriend jj who⊠letâs you fiddle with the numerous rings and bracelets adorning his hands whenever you want, knowing itâs a calming distraction whenever youâre anxious. often times, youâll be sitting with his large hand on your lap, twisting and pulling at the metal around his fingers as he chatted amongst his friends, completely unfazed by your fidgeting â heâs used to (and loves) it.
â boyfriend jj who⊠carves the both of your initials into the trunks of numerous treeâs across the island, whether itâs one on the side of a busy street or in the depths of a secluded wood â he likes knowing that youâre etched permanently everywhere.
ïŁ© personapeters 2025 â all rights reserved âą masterlist
#outer banks jj#jj x y/n#jj outer banks#jj x reader#jj maybank#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank fic#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank obx#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#jj obx#jj maybank x y/n#outer banks x reader#outer banks jj maybank#obx fanfiction#obx fic#obx jj#jj#obx jj maybank#outer banks fanfiction#jj maybank headcanon#outer banks
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You're not a god, technically. A god is one of them big ones, the extraterrestrials, see?
You, like everything else in the world, were born here; your beginning is not before time and outside the world. Not a god. You're a daimon. It's a common misconception.
Still, in the space of that misconception there's honest work.
You're not sure the council upstairs (if it's even a council anymore) pays much attention to most of mortalkind, really, otherwise there wouldn't have to be witches to do work scholars are jealous of, but doesn't someone have to?
Sometimes the ones that do enough of it become angels. Sometimes the ones that do something better than anyone else become... well, just what is Silence, actually? Is that still what he goes by? When he was Death All-Devouring he had a few more teeth, you think.
Anyway: when official channels fatfinger a prayer, you have to know, and it's just sort of the case, ethically speaking, that you're to do something about it. Even if only to keep up the illusion that the world-machine works. That's kind of a duty incumbent on all of you immortals, these days. Just until the big boss ... well, the big boss cannot be said to ever be doing or thinking or going to do or think anything, so you're not sure where that was going.
And that's why you're here at this wedding â because a hundred, two hundred years ago they realised the big kahuna might not be listening, deep down, somewhere, and so now you are the wight of the marriage bed. Some say the angel. They're not sure. You're not sure either; you have perhaps a dot more free will than angels tend to, but you find yourself doing a lot of angelic kinda work.
Is the Immanence here, like She's supposed to be? Doctrinally (you are a daimon, you don't really care about doctrine outside the mechanics of your own existence) She doesn't fuck with mixed marriages, but She also conveniently is present every time two men talk about lofty matters, yes, even if they're talking objectively heinous anti-sense about women and children and beasts. So, you know. It's kind of touch and go here. Is mixed marriage more bad than womanhatred? Very important scholars debate the issue even now. Six thousand years of debate have yielded the answer 'yeah idk probably'. You cannot perceive the Immanence. You wouldn't know.
You do, however, know the future, and in the next thousand years, thankfully, they will perfect the shaping arts and learn to make men into women, and maybe they'll all be women then, what the hell. It's an optimistic thought. The other immortals kind of snicker at you and tell you to go look forward at what they do with chymics, self-made new forms of life, in that future, and what they themselves go mad with pain and grief and loneliness and do, for which reason you kind of don't want to.
You might go and listen in on some of those last debates instead, except, again: wedding.
To your profound disappointment, this wedding expects to make you co-in-laws, sort of, with a small unfriendly god, one of the daimons that really believes in it, waves their essence around. This is... about to get really annoying.
You actually don't even dislike Sowulo. Everything you know about them boils down to the fact that they've been experimenting with themself after their mortal followers degendered them â that's the trouble with the overreliant ones, the essence moulds to the understanding of the souls they shepherd and then you end up in no end of annoying circumstances. This would be why personally you've never investigated what gender you're supposed to be. Less for your people to contradict that way. Maybe you predate gender, how's that for a thought exercise? (You don't; you were born in the middle of the Age of Chitin; they don't have to know you're something smaller and duller wearing an old god's pelt.)
And, well, it's just... they're a little weird? OK. They're a lottle weird. You are pretty sure they are, like, super mega ultra weird. The situation is like this: their people, their little guys, they used to be these peaceful cattle nomads. Then the Aeon of Sails and the Great Industrialisation, and the dire circumstances that led them into the ghettos, and so on â and somewhere in that transition, the travelling spirit of the warmth of the sun that was their constant companion came into conflict with the new State doctrine that the stars are unfeeling miasmas of incandescent plasma. (Is that doctrine? That's how you understand most things. You're not sure of the semantics.)
So now: degendered, deprived of influence, a cold light, not a warm one. Invoked, at best, at afterbirth burials, confirmations, weddings, cremations, premarital haircuttings, housewarmings, slaughters, and for the end of winter when it dies under their hand. They're annoying and dangerous and haggard and raw-voiced as a hungry buzzard because they are starving, because they have lost themself, because they don't remember what they used to be and they don't know what they want to be now.
Sometimes a ship launches from the harbour of this city, and you are there because you have one of your people to look after, and they look out at you from shore, forlorn, jealous, abandoned, so hungry. So hungry. Mourning something they half remember, something they are convinced you have. That's why they incite their sophonts to kill yours, maybe. You wouldn't know. You've never asked. You're busy doing your job, keeping those sophonts safe.
They envy you your vitality. They wish they knew what they were. They think you know what you are, and they want you to get off your inconceivably tall high horse.
You're not on a high horse. You just are, and you try to make sure your sophonts can just be, too. But Sowulo doesn't know that.
Sowulo knows that their people are small and broken and scattered, and that each wedding with any other people weakens them â weakens the people and weakens their god.
Sowulo hates you.
And, like, you don't really play favourites, all mortals are the same to you deep down, but you understand that there is a Teensy Weensy little problem, perhaps, with the favourite son of their most warlike clan's Great Chanter running away from home to elope with a witch-midwife from beyond the Pale. Not because she's yours, but that doesn't make it better. Her own huntedness and fear and old pain doesn't do anything for the situation either. Sowulo doesn't understand yet that suffering is a universal condition of settled life.
Your marriage priest, a jolly little roundish woman in veils against the interference of spirits with her work, pounds her cowhide drum and begins her chant. Sowulo's shakes his solar rattle, completely unaware that his god is seething in the rafters of the fane. Are you going to have to save his life, then, before the sun is up? This is going to be a very long, unnecessarily laborious, and probably also very interesting night.
You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival Godâs follower. Normally that wouldnât be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.
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"feels so right but it's just so wrong." // red!clark kent
notes: MDNI 18+ summary: clark kent is usually such a nice guy. what's gotten into him? wc: 1714 warnings: red!clark, face fucking with fingers, implications of oral (m receiving), clark being arrogant, pet names, fem!reader, not proofread.
âYou are being so annoying,â Red!Clark told you, rolling his eyes as he tucked himself further into the couch settled in the loft. He had been acting so strange all day, completely unlike the best friend you knew and loved. There was a slight attitude in his tone, irritation radiating off of him, and pelting you with nearly everything that had come out of his mouth. It was almost like you were a human punching bag today; if an unkind thought passed through his head, he was more than willing to say it to you.
âWhat?â You snapped at him, finally nearing the breaking point. Your eyes pointed up at him, shifting your head in his lap to get a better look at you. It wasnât uncommon to lay your head on his lap, the rest of your body taking up the other end of the couch. Actually, Clark typically liked it when you two did this together. Even though you were just best friends, there was an intrinsic need for you two to be in touch all the time. Hand holding, platonic cuddling, hugs that lasted a minute too long. Today, though⊠Today he looked frustrated by the way you were clinging to him, the physical touch he had once loved from you be damned.Â
Not only had you just experienced something completely terrible, with Clark swooping in to save you at the last minute yet again, but he was being such a jerk.
âI just never realized how needy and clingy you are. What you did back there was dangerous too. Donât you have any inkling for self preservation?â Clarkâs words were one thing, but his actions were indicative of another as he gently stroked his fingers through your hair.Â
Was he wrong? Not really. You were needy and clingy when it came to him, but thatâs how itâs always been with the two of you. Hell, he was just as clingy most of the time. Thatâs what came along with knowing his secret; being one of the only people who actually knew the real Clark Kent.Â
âClark, you know Iâd do anything for a story. The Daily Planet isnât going to promote me if I only write boring headlines. I thought thatâs why we work so well together? I can bust a crime ring and youâre always there to swoop in.â You were trying to reason with him now, get to the bottom of what was really going on inside of his head. Ever since this morning, it was like Clark had been stripped from all his inhibitions, most of the qualities that made Clark⊠Well, Clark, had somehow disappeared.
âGood writers can make a story out of anything,â Clark noted, his fingers still stroking through your hair. âThey donât have to put themselves in constant danger and despair to write a think piece.â
âYou donât think Iâm a good writer?â You asked him, trying to lift your head from his thigh, needing to create some space between you and your best friend before he could say something that might kill your spirits all together.
âYou could be better,â Clark shrugged, his shoulders lifting and collapsing in one cohesive motion as disinterest flickered across his face. You could tell he was done with the conversation now, dishing out that he didnât think you were that great at what you do, then ready to move on like you werenât going to have more questions for him.
It wasnât often that you cried in front of Clark. On the off chance that you did cry in front of him, it was for good reason, and Clark had never made you cry. Until now. The tears that threatened the corner of your waterline were mortifying, and the more you tried to blink them away, the quicker they began formulating.Â
Once more, you tried to move yourself off of his lap, but Clark held you in place. Finally, he looked down at you, his facial expression shifting from disinterest to amusement when he saw the tears spilling down your cheeks. There was no way you could have missed the way his lips curled up, just enough to show he enjoyed the sight of you messy on his lap. And there was absolutely no way to miss the way his eyes shimmered with delight, darkening at the sight of your bottom lip quivering.
âYouâre crying? Câmon, it wasnât that mean,â Clark scoffed as his hand found its way from your hair to your chin, holding your face between his thumb and his forefinger. Vulnerability flooded through you as Clark examined every aspect of your face with such intensity, you wanted to shrink under his gaze.
As you opened your mouth, trying to find the words to let Clark know he had been hurting your feelings all day, it wasnât just this offhand comment that was contributing to your tears, a small sob released from your chest. The words didnât come out, only heavier breathing and more tears.
âSo fussy,â Clark said, his voice sultry and thick as he gently stroked his pointer finger from your chin to your mouth, placing it between your lips and forcing you to open up. You didnât know why you were being so compliant with it, but Clark pushed his forefinger and middle finger into your mouth, pressing harshly on the middle of your tongue and you couldnât help the moan that stirred. âLet me pacify you.â
Your moans were vibrating off of his fingers as he worked them in and out of your mouth, his gaze fixated on you in a way you had never seen before. It wasnât just lust that filled it eyes; it was carnal desire, like in this moment he needed you as much as you needed him. At least, that is likely what he wanted you to think.
There was something intrinsically hot about the situation as a wholeâ you laying there, crying on his lap as he hushed you with his fingers in a way that could be written in an erotica book. Nothing about it felt right, but it didnât feel wrong either, and you could tell Clark felt the same way by the tent growing underneath his jeans, the length of him pressing against the seat of his pants.
Your mouth salivated at the thought of it, creating more lubricant to slide his fingers in and out of your mouth. His eyes traveled to where you were looking, curious as to what had stopped your tears in their tracks and distracted you. A chuckle, deep from his chest sounded, as he realized how desperate you were for it. Part of him had to know, this whole time, that you wanted him in a way that was less than platonic, right?
âFeels so right but itâs just so wrong,â Clark said, reading your mind as he pushed his fingers in deeper. The tip of his finger hit your gag reflex, causing your head to lurch, but he pushed you back down in his lap. The disinterest that flooded his features less than five minutes ago had completely evaporated, now replaced with sheer and utter amusement.
You were so wet, it was uncomfortable. Your core was dripping with desire, soaking into your cotton panties and clinging to you just enough to overwhelm you. With furrowed brows, you tried to talk around Clarkâs fingers, and that prior expression of annoyance had returned once more.
âYouâre not supposed to be talking, bunny, thatâs the point of this. I want you to shut up.â Clark moved his fingers against your tongue once more, pressing and pushing on the insides of your cheeks, carefully grazing the gag reflex every so often in a teasing gesture. He couldnât help but taunt you, just a bit.
You made a muffled noise, a whine mixed with a moan. Even with his fingers in your mouth, you were still being fussy.
âWhat?â Clark asked, his tone full of mockery as he offered a sympathetic expression that you knew to be just another one of his taunts. If you werenât so turned on, you would be trying to figure out what the hell was going on with him, but right now you were too blinded by desire to careâ even if that meant Clark was going to mock you the entire time. âYou want my cock in your mouth instead? Canât promise Iâll be nice.â
Your eyes widened and you frantically nodded around his fingers. He didnât need to see more before he was unbuttoning his pants as you gently lifted your head to allow him to kick them off.
But as soon as Clarkâs pants were off, his expression had shifted completely. The mocking expression was now laced with confusion, the evidence of what you were about to get into pressed against the hem of his boxers.Â
It was hard for him to look you in the eyes, and you werenât sure why the sudden shift in demeanor until he asked you, âcan you empty out the pockets of my jeans?â
You moved off the couch, picking up his jeans and shuffling through the pockets, feeling silly with the dried tears on your face and Clarkâs seeming lack of interest in you now. In the very bottom of his right pocket, there was one ruby earring. You placed it in your palm, showing it to him and thatâs when it hit you both.
âRed kryptonite,â Clark said definitively and you thought you could melt right there. His behavior had a reason behind it, yours was driven by pure desire. âI thought it was a ruby earring. I found it at the Talon and was going to turn it into their lost and found.â
âOh god,â you said, dropping the earring on the floor of the loft. Your feet were moving down the stairs, bolting for the exit before your brain could catch up with you.
Clark stood at the top of the stairs, his half hard dick still swinging in his boxers, âWait! Letâs talk about this. Please.â
Slowly, with one hand on the door, you turned around to look at him, avoiding looking below the waist. Maybe you two could work things out. In more ways than one.
#clark kent#red clark#clark kent x reader#smallville clark kent#clark kent imagine#clark kent fanfiction#clark kent fanfic#clark kent x you#clark kent x female reader#clark kent x y/n#clark kent x reader insert#clark kent smut#red clark kent#red clark kent x reader#clark k. â©ËïœĄâ
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Swallow My Pride
Simon spots you across the bar. You're a long way from the little girl that used to torment him in primary, but that's alright. These days he's got a soft spot for beautiful men.
Contains: FtM!Reader, Reader bullied Simon in primary school, alcohol/bar mention, smoking, oral sex (Simon receiving), Reader has hair long enough to pull a little, Implied fibre arts, abrupt ending because I wasn't gonna get into all that. Maybe later.
1.1k ~ MDNI ~ 18+
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It figured that you'd be gorgeous now.
He almost didn't recognize you. Probably would have missed you entirely if not for the long, searching glance you'd given him, like he was familiar too. Back then you were a skinny, mouthy little bitch that made his life miserable until you moved away, and now you were a handsome, self-assured man, filled out strong and a little soft. Standing with your friends, laughing. They obviously didn't know that you were a venomous little viper under that easy smile and oversized, hand-knit sweater with wonky cables on the front.
The lads noticed his silence and singular focus. Johnny started acting up some, like he always did when Simon paid too much attention to another man.
"Y'gonna talk to the pretty boy?" he asked, exasperated. "Or jest leer at'm all night?"
"If you don't, I might," Gaz said. "It's cold out these days and he looks like he's comfortable to have a lie in with."
"Fine. I'll talk to 'im." Simon stood and shouldered his way over to you, cutting a swathe through the crowd of people lingering by the bar, and put a big hand on your shoulder. "Wanna talk t'you," he rumbled. "Follow me."
"Hey, what the fuck," one of your friends said hotly. "Don't be rude."
Simon glared at her, ready to snap, but you quickly put yourself between. "It's okay. I know him."
Simon steered you outside and shoved you up against the wall. "Recognize me, do you?"
"Of course. Thought you were dead, though. Saw you here a couple months back. Kept coming back, thinking I had to be nuts." You tilt your head to the side. "I'm surprised you recognize me."
"Maybe I wouldn't've, if I'd ever seen you as a woman. But we were kids. You've changed, but I know you."
You had been the worst thing in his life, outside of his home. Quick to point out his hand-me-downs and his shaggy hair, to knock things out of his hands. If youâd been a boy back then, he would have just punched your lights out, but even then he knew better than to hit a girl. You were fair game for a fight now, as far as he was concerned, but he wasnât really that interested in fighting. Especially when you were giving him that kicked puppy stare, regret written all over your face.
Regret was a powerful motivator, and he liked the idea of you trying to make it right. He liked the idea of seeing what he could get out of it too.
"I never got to apologize. When I heard-- Fuck, you've been through it. Apologies don't seem like enough." You look at him, big eyes and soft mouth. So fucking pretty.
"It's not enough. Don't want to 'ear it anyway. Want to make it up to me?" He waits for your nod, then reaches for his belt. "Suck me off. Right 'ere."
You look stunned for a moment. He expected to to stalk off back inside-- He didn't really want an apology, didn't think there was any making up for it, not really. Just wanted to push your buttons a bit, more than anything else.
But you dropped to your knees on the dirty ground, and waited, patient as a well trained dog. "Good boy," Simon grunted, pulling out his cock. He liked the way your big eyes got bigger, a gleam of want in them. You'd grown up to be a proper slag. He slapped his cock against your cheek, and you turned to catch it, sliding your lips and tongue along the side.
"This why you 'ad t'be such a cunt back then?" he asked, grabbing your hair to keep you from sinking your mouth down onto his cock. "Wanted me so bad an' couldn't say so?"
You glare at him from the ground. "Do you want the apology or the head, Riley?"
"Makin' me choose, are you?" He let go of your hair, however, his laugh turning to a groan as you sucked the head of his cock into your hot mouth, tongue lapping at his slit to taste the bead of bitter precum.
He was going to be more of a dick about it, but he couldn't get a word in. You worked his cock like you were made for it, working your hand over the shaft when you lapped at the tip, swallowing around him when you sank all the way down, taking him into your throat, bobbing your head back and forth, spit dribbling down your chin and his balls, messy, like you knew that was just how he liked it.
He managed to communicate that he was going to cum, enough that you let him pop free and pump his come onto your waiting tongue, purposely missing a little, his come glistening on your cheek and caught just slightly in your hair. You swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste.
"You ever eat anythin' that has a lick of nutritional value?" you gripe, using your fingers to scrape his come off your cheek and into your mouth anyway.
"Get your trousers off an' I'll eat your cunt," he offered, groaning again when you sucked him into your mouth again, cleaning off the mess. "If yâstill âave one. Christ. I'm takin' you 'ome either way." He lit a cigarette, glancing at the door when it pushed open, ready to bark, relaxing when he realized it was just Soap and Gaz. "Hey, lads."
You side eyed them, but you finished your job first, sitting back on your heels and wiping your mouth with your sleeve as Simon tucked himself away again. Gaz and Soap stood there, gaping like fish until you stood up.
"That's gotta be a record," Gaz said. "You haven't been gone ten minutes."
"Well, pretty boy knows what 'e likes." Simon dropped a hand on top of your head and pulled you close to his side before you could duck out of the conversation. "Don't go, pup. Figure you owe the lads an apology too. You're the reason I'm so mean, and they've 'ad t'deal with it all this time." He slid his hand down the side of your face and hooked his fingers into your mouth roughly. "What d'you think?"
You look at the other two. Gaz was trying to look nonplussed as he lit his cigarette, but there was no hiding the hungry gleam in his eyes. Soap wasn't even bothering to be subtle. He looked you up and down, palming himself through his jeans.
You shove Simon's hand out of your mouth, grinning. "Oh, he's been real mean, has he?"
Soap stepped in closer, his fingers hooking into your pocket to reel himself in next to you. "He's been a nightmare. Yeh gonna make up for it?"
"Can try. Riley's always been pretty determined t'be a cunt though. It's not all my fault."
âNeed to say goodbye to your friends?â Gaz asked.
âNah. It was a date. Didnât really like them anyway. Felt like they were just looking for a compromise between addinâ a man or a woman to their failing marriage. Not really keen to get into all that. This sounds more fun.â
Simon chuckled. âGood choice, pup. Letâs get goinâ.â
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/aeb1d345a7951c20046801c48a01f730/41bd86a94d585b8d-4c/s540x810/9bd4846394a540709f4d132733287a78873f9570.jpg)
I've been rotating this thought in my mind since I read this fic by @/soapcloth about Soap being Reader's childhood bully. Read that, and then all the other stuff they've posted because there's some very fun stuff and I highly recommend their work.
Dividers by @/cafekitsune
#Cave writing#Simon Riley x Reader#ftm!reader#I wrote this over the afternoon and it's barely edited so be kind to me#x Reader#And make sure you read the fic that inspired this by Soapcloth#There's probably some other childhood bully fics because it's such a fun trope but that's the one that sparked this
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Hi! Hope you're doing well! I love your writing, I got so excited when I saw you're rqs were open!!!
Could i request dorm leaders w/reader who sang a break-up song while they're dating w/a happy ending? not for a performance or anything, just listening to music and singing along and a mob character passing by heard it. then suddenly there's rumors around the school saying their relationship is falling apart. the reader doesn't know. the boys don't realize that it a big misunderstanding and think that the reader might not be happy with their relationship and they desperately try to make it up to the reader.
Kind of like this one including malleus and azul https://www.tumblr.com/coralinnii/697097733985730560/singing-a-break-up-song-while-dating-feat
sry for rambling, i really love the way you write the characters, if it's too much, don't worry about! thank you!
fjfejf thank you i hope you enjoy your rq too <3 this one takes me backâŠ. throwback sunday
(Also happy (late) valentines day everybody! i wanted to post that that on time for it but it got. so long
đ Riddle Rosehearts
Ironically, you might have even shown him that song before. Riddle is pretty out of the loop, so heâs always curious about what youâre listening to. He never thought that your enjoyment of the song had anything to do with your relationship. Itâs just a song, right? And at first, he thinks the exact same when the rumor arrives at him through Cater, chastising him for spreading such baseless claims.
âŠBut it doesnât take too long for it to get to him. And wasnât that one of your most listened songs too? He can never remember the titles very well. His uncertainty feeds on the words of others until they make complete sense to him. If you were really happy, why would you be so obsessed with that specific song, after all? Riddle starts to pick apart his own actions, trying to find what could have made you so unhappy⊠And the truth is, everything is not only going well, but he probably mixed up the song from the rumor with an unrelated song youâre actually obsessed with. His entire issue is built around an impression that youâve been secretly wallowing all this time, all due to some awful thing heâs supposedly doneâ Without even noticing how much he hurt you, no less.
Suddenly, when you spend time together, heâs awkwardly asking if youâre really sure that this or that is really okay, like he did when you just started dating. You ask him whatâs wrong, and he quickly, awkwardly, blurts out that he heard the rumors, and he was trying to make up for his actions⊠And youâre just standing there, confused.
Luckily, Riddle has just enough common sense that saying his worries out loud makes him realize how frankly insane he sounds. And when he hears that he was, in fact, thinking of the wrong song, his whole face is as red as his hair. You might have to hold back some laughter as you comfort him⊠Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, it does feel sweet that heâs so eager to make you happy. Even if it means having to fix a huge problem he doesnât quite understand.
đ Leona Kingscholar
Thereâs probably no shortage of rumors about your relationship. Good ones, bad ones, and a good few that were just weirdâ Leona says with his full chest that he thinks theyâre all a waste of time, that it was just people being bored, or jealous, or both. He does wholly believe his own words. He also remembers every single thing he hears about you two.
Similar to Riddle, his initial reaction is that the rumor is just stupid. You listening to a song meant that you wanted to break up with him? Really? People must be running out of things to say, if theyâre fixating on something so meaningless⊠And yet, he canât keep himself from getting the urge to watch you more closely when youâre together.
Leona will die before he actually admits this rumor ever got to him, really. Even the people he overheard talking about it said it kind of seemed like a reach. Heâs not about to start a conversation about it, or even openly express that some stupid bit of gossip had him so worriedâ But he still feels the need to watch. Do you get bored when youâre just sitting nearby while heâs supposedly sleeping? Do you look uncomfortable when he comes closer? Questions like that come up in his mind.
The answer, of course, is that you donât. And thatâs the end of it⊠or at least he wants to believe that. The rumor wonât come up unless you mention it, he just randomly comes off just a little softer than usual. Itâd be hard for anyone to make the connection, surely Leona wouldnât get that affected by something so silly, he said it was stupid himself. And yet, itâs still hard to miss how he visibly relaxes when you confirm thatâs how you thought.
đ Azul Ashengrotto
Thereâs all sorts of rumors going around about Azul himself, but theyâre mostly just long debates on whether itâs worth getting involved with his deals or not. Thatâs easy enough to ignore when he has people coming in and out of the Lounge everyday. People who complain were just mad about the consequences they faced due to not reading the fineprint and all that.
This self awareness doesnât help that much when the rumor comes to his attention, though. Heâll comment about how childish the people gossiping about you were to whoever tells him the news, but his words are hollow. Logic is already in the process of leaving his brain, entirely skipping over how ridiculous the whole thing was. Itâs sudden enough to hit him with every mistake he might have made like a truck. The office door is slammed shut and locked so he go insane in peace. The thought of rumors themselves are what stands out the most. That had to be what drove you over the edge, right? Someone must have told you terrible things about him, and now you were miserable and confused andâ And then heâs calling you, urgently asking for you to give him a chance to explain himself.
The whole âsongâ part of the rumor might as well not exist anymore. You ask him what this was all about, and heâs going on and on about how he swears whatever you heard about him wasnât actually that bad and how heâs sorry that youâre getting caught up in all of this mess. You have no idea what itâs all about. It takes a bit of a back and forth for him to realize this. Then heâs just silent. And on instinct, as the realization hits him, he just hangs up, mortified.
You leave to go see him in person, worried or confused or amused or all of the above. You knock on his door, asking him what was up, what rumors he was talking about, heâs too embarrassed to answer for a bit. When he finally does, he looks at you so guiltily, you might even expect heâs about to make a serious confessionâ It does take a little effort not to giggle when he actually explains it. Insists to get you two some fancy dinner afterwards to make up for the âtroubleâ, no matter how much you insist youâre glad that it was just a misunderstanding.
đ Kalim Al-Asim
Surprisingly, or maybe not, Kalim is actually quite used to people gossiping about him too. It doesnât mean heâs the best at handling it, but even before deciding to work on becoming a more capable person, he was already a couple steps ahead from quite a few other people. Even compared to the other dorm leaders â or maybe, especially compared to them â he usually doesnât have a very hard time ignoring what others say about him.
The first time he hears the rumor, itâs from a few Scarabia students whispering to each other in the corners of the dorm lounge. His first concern is calling out how rude it is to spread rumors about other people, and while he doesnât have much of an aura of authority, people like him too much to not back off. He thought that was the end of it, and was almost succesful at fully ignoring the rumor, but heâs unlucky enough a particularly nasty someone catches on that it did bother him, despite it technically not showing on the outside.
And then itâs not just a problem, but a long running one. Because he doesnât want to listen to people saying all those mean things about you! Youâre always happy when youâre around him, thereâs no way youâd be secretly holding a grudge over⊠what, really? You two donât even fight! âŠThatâs the sort of thing heâll be telling himself, as time passes, and without him even fully processing the building anxiety, you start to wake up to⊠random gifts from your boyfriend, piled up at the door of your dorm room. How long had it been since you forgot about the song, when you reach the point of deciding to ask him what this was all about? Who knows. The gifts didnât feel that odd at first, he just does that sometimes, but you were starting to run out of space, and Kalim was starting to act weird around you. So you bring it up⊠And he actually bursts into tears.
Poor guy, honestly. Heâs a mess, saying heâs sorry, he didnât know what else to do to make your not want to break up with him, all that. Heâs saying heâll let you go if thatâs what you truly want when you interrupt him and ask what heâs even talking about, and he tearfully mentions he heard those rumorsâ That at this point might have even died down. You have to assure him itâs all just rumors for a while, and he tears up again, this time out of happiness. Heâs not even going to think about how crazy it was that he got so deep into something that had no depth at all. Heâs just too glad that youâre not upset.
đ Vil Schoenheit
Vilâs initial reaction mostly depends on what sort of day heâs had. Itâs harder to not overthink things when heâs already stressed â Not that he believes it in any case, itâs just unpleasant to hear either way. The whole thing sounds, frankly, just too shallow to truly hit him. How could anyone claim to know how you were feeling just because you liked this one specific song? How could they even confirm you actually liked that song at all, really⊠But people still talk about it, and thatâs how it sticks to his thoughts.
Heâs already dismissed the rumor itself, the question is whether it really came up out of nowhere or not. Maybe someone had noticed you were looking down, or you confided in a friend about relationship issues, and thatâs whatâs really behind all those flashy claims about the song â The idea makes him anxious. You two usually just talk it out if thereâs an issue, so what could have happened? Youâre caught off guard when he asks you out for lunch, just the two of you, right in the middle of the week because itâs the only time slot he has available.
You think maybe he just felt like doing something nice but still easygoing. So it definitely feels strange when he starts to speak up about how heâs aware heâs not perfect, but heâs willing to work on anything that might bother you, you realize he looks oddly serious for the situationâ
You blink, telling him you knew that, but everything was fine. If anything was wrong, you wouldâve just talked to him, like you always do. He stops on his tracks, suddenly feeling kind of silly. If it was anyone else, maybe heâd question if you really meant that, but you say it so easily it couldnât not be the truthâ Then you ask him if something is wrong, and he does his very best efforts to circumvent the topic, something about being told you were unhappy⊠You recall a friend bringing up the rumor to you, before that, and it feels hard to believe something so silly would get to him. It turns out to be a nice date anyway, though. Maybe something you could do more often?
đ Idia Shroud
Honestly, even before he registers that all of this is over you enjoying a song, his brain is already going haywire. When it does hit that this was all over a song, though, he stops, and not because itâs all over a song. But instead because the gossip itself implied that you werenât listening to it while wallowing by yourselfâ Then, right after, he wonders if that means things were even worse than they seemed. Did people know because you were telling your friends about it or something? The questions keep coming up, the logic getting more and more complicated inside his headâŠ
Would it be better to check up on you? Straightforwardly ask if anything is wrong? Thereâs no way he could just do that, what would he do if it all turned out to be right, if youâve been silently despising him this whole time? In the end, you donât hear from Idia that day at all. Then Ortho calls you out of concer, not knowing whatâs happening beyond the fact his brother is losing his mind. You can even hear him in the background, telling him to hang up.
âŠAnd after a day without any texts, and a call from Ortho that sounded like Idia might as well have been stabbed in his room, you rush over to his dorm. You hurry to check up on him, expecting something bad, and heâs actually shocked youâre worried about him. That you donât outright hate him. Hearing that, youâre understandably confused.
Your reaction brings him back to reality a bit, prompting him to ask if heâs done anything wrong. You ask him what made him think that. He mentions something about a song. Music, of course, is the furthest thing from your mind right now, so you ask him which songâ It soon becomes clear thereâs been an insane misunderstanding. After relief hits, itâs a little awkward, and heâs apologizing for how crazy he must have looked. Youâre just glad your boyfriend didnât get jumped or anything like that. Details can be discussed later.
đ Malleus Draconia
Malleus takes it all pretty seriously. You probably showed him the song yourself, since he gets curious about the music you like, and it did stand out to him that itâs breakup musicâ But he doesnât consider that, by itself, a reason to worry. Heâll always believe your word over others, which is why itâs so confusing to him to hear that you were supposedly unhappy. And people were considering your taste in music as proof on top of it all? Would that mean that showing him the song was some sort of indirect message, thenâŠ?
It doesnât feel in character for you, he thinks, but he doesnât want to risk it. He does consider doing something to make up for his supposed mistakes, but since the topic of breaking up is on the table, he decides nothing could really be enough. And you were really so upset you were about to give up on him, he doesnât know what he could do to make you feel better. In the end, he just decided to ask â right at the very next time he sees you, before saying anything else â why you wanted to break up with him.
âWhatâ,you echo, and for a moment he wonders if you were really so resentful you were making fun of him, but that definitely doesnât sound like something youâd do. He explains he heard people talk about it, saying he wanted to âhear your thoughts on the matter before believing anyone elseâ, that he was hoping to solve whatever the problem was. Heâs so serious it stuns you, you tell him there arenât any problems.
That confuses him. What did you mean when you showed him the song, then? Nothing, it turns out. You just liked the music. His worries dissipate soon after that, if you say it was all well, of course heâll believe you. He does remind you to tell him if itâs not, because he doesnât want that imagined scenario to become true at all, but heâs ready to just (very) gratefully set it all aside. Simple as that. Wonât get it if you seem to find the situation amusing, but wonât stop you from finding humor in it either.
if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ââ á”á” âŠ
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#azul ashengrotto#kalim al asim#vil schoenheit#idia shroud#malleus draconia#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twst imagines#twst headcanons#lis writing
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You may have already noted this, but Andy's claims on twitter about being able to understand what his sparrow is saying (and thus sparrow language in general) seem to be ramping up in unbelievability- apparently yesterday the bird was able to communicate that it didn't want its conversation with other sparrows recorded and shared. Andy makes mention of several of his followers who have apparently been having FaceTime calls with the bird. There's at least 5-6 of Andy's followers who consistently comment on the bird updates and show no credulity, expressing how much they want to be able to communicate with the bird like Andy does. It's probably not the biggest deal, but the whole thing has just been giving me an odd vibe. Feels like Andy once again making friends/followers by demonstrating abilities and knowledge no one else has.
Yes, his allegedly deep connection with sparrows has been getting weird for quite a while. He says he can understand some of their language, enough to relay things that the flock outside his house is talking about and things that Nuggie communicates to him. On top of that, Andy has written about things like Nuggie watching movies and musicals and following every emotional beat, to the point of showing the characters his malformed feet to offer encouragement when they're lacking confidence. Andy is anthropomorphizing the hell out of that little bird. Meanwhile, his followers praise him for knowing sparrows better than ornithologists do.
I've lived with a parrot before, for many years, and I bonded very closely with him. I agree that birds are much smarter and more emotionally complex than most people realize. But they're not humans. Their thoughts and feelings are not exactly like ours and we have no way to know exactly what's going on in their heads. Projecting onto them can lead to misunderstandings of their behavior and needs. Andy seems to be taking good care of Nuggie, from what I can tell--bearing in mind that we only have his word for it--but that doesn't mean he's right about everything.
Here's the thread you mentioned:
Here's Andy in November, writing about Nuggie's "phone flock":
Here's a thread from October, featuring Andy's musings on sparrow language. Friendly reminder that he is neither an ornithologist nor a linguist.
Note that at the end, he specifies that he's not Dr. Doolittle and doesn't speak or 100% understand sparrows' language...but he's still claiming a level of understanding that no one else has.
And here's Andy in August, wishing that he could communicate effectively with Nuggie and then having an actual conversation with him:
Those are some awfully complex ideas for a member of a non-human species to understand and respond to appropriately.
I'm not trying to suggest that Andy is forming another cult based around his bird, but like you said, Anon, it's notable that he is once again positioning himself as someone who has a special ability that no one else has. He's also repeating an old pattern in making himself the sole conduit to communicate with someone who holds a great deal of emotional significance for people. Back in the day, it was any of 160+ "others", and later, the DAYDverse/Harry Potter characters; now, it's a rescued sparrow with a disability, whom a lot of people apparently find inspiring.
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