#like i've seen a few of their content and i didn't even like everything i've seen so far (but what i liked i REALLY liked)
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icharchivist · 1 year ago
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hey remember when i left those tags on that post?
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i still don’t want to talk about what the work of fiction is but i legit just got reminded today that while it’s been like over 15 years that i did want to check this thing, the character that “caught my interest like 7 years ago” actually caught my interest 12 years ago. As in, there was a specific moment in time when i wanted to get into it because i learnt about the character in question.
i’ve been in hysterics for the past ten minutes because i’m realizing it’s been over a decade that once in a while i had humored starting this thing, and that while it definitely started out of another place, it’s been 12 years that steadily it was because this character was standing out to me enough that i wanted to get into it, but then forgot all about it, and now i’m out there actually getting into it after a *dream that came out of nowhere about this chara popping up while i haven’t thought of them in years* and i’m just. 
bestfriendo is making fun of me because “this is the most slowburn in all of history of fav characters” and i’m screaming into my hands, imagine considering getting into something for OVER A DECADE while constantly one character keeps standing out for you and eventually you just get a dream out of nowhere of this chara like a sudden “hey. I’ve been sending you messages about it for the past decade why the fuck are you leaving me on read” and now you’re not only forced to pay attention but also forced to realize YOU COULD HAVE STARTED ALL OF THAT OVER TEN YEARS AGO i’m feeling so unwell.
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kykyonthemoon · 8 months ago
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How to take care of your on-period girlfriend
During that time of the month, you receive special treatment from him.
ಇ. Character x Female Reader
with Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne and Caleb.
ಇ. Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, established relationship, pain & comfort
ಇ. Word count: 3k4
ಇ. Note: Some details in this fic are inspired by in game Tender Moments.
ಇ. Requested by Mỗi ngày nhặt một anh làm chồng and an anonymous reader on my ask box.
ಇ. Masterlist ♡ Request a fic ♡
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𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍
In the middle of the night, you awoke with such discomfort in your lower belly and an aching feeling throughout your body. You knew it was that time of the month; in fact, it was a few days late due to recent work-related stress. You didn't expect to have your period today, so waking up at this hour with discomfort all over your body was quite uncomfortable to you.
Your hand found the phone on the nightstand beside the bed. Rafayel has left you several messages and missed calls. Perhaps you fell asleep without realizing it due to fatigue. You decided to get up and use the bathroom for a while. That's when you discovered you were missing what you needed most at home.
You grumbled and switched the phone screen back on. You were reluctant to disturb him at this time, especially because he was attending an exhibition in another city and you were not sure if he had returned yet. But you were upset and missed the times like this when he took care of you. Just before dialing his number, your phone rang.
"I've seen you online for a while. What's up? Can't sleep?"
Rafayel's voice rang out from the other end of the line, full of energy still. You just answered with a few short phrases, summarizing the current situation for him and told him that you were about to go out and get the necessary supplies.
"Just stay there." Rafayel stopped you. "Do not go anywhere. Wait for me."
You were a little confused why he had told you to stay home. But just now, you were too tired to have the strength to ask. Besides, you could not go out in this state, when you just wanted to faint on the floor.
You washed and changed into a new set of pajamas. Luckily, you found a spare sanitary pad left over in the closet that was sufficient for your needs. As soon as you got out of the bathroom, you heard the front door open. Rafayel appeared there, with a bunch of bags wrapped in both hands.
“How are you now? Does it still hurt?"
You shook your head, primarily to reassure him. But glancing at your pallid face, he knew you were lying. And you were taken aback when he arrived here, at this hour.
“Didn't you leave Linkon for the exhibition a few days ago?”
“That event was nothing special. I was on my way home when you called. I stopped to get you a few things before coming here.”
"Just a few things?" You gazed at the mound of items Rafayel had just purchased and set on the floor. "Why does it look like you bought everything in the store?"
Rafayel grinned at you. He softly aided you in getting down, leaning your back against the cushion and placing your feet on the couch. After that, he began taking out everything from those bags, which startled you a lot.
He had purchased you sanitary products in the form of pads, panties, tampons and even menstrual cups. One of each type and brand. There were also several pain relievers, vitamins and more. When he noticed your amazement, he said:
“Since I don't know which type you usually use, I bought one of each.”
Rafayel laughed. And you, even though your face was pale, felt so content due to his silliness.
“You could have just asked me.” You responded.
“I won't be able to see your surprised smile then. Since I've made you laugh, I must be a fantastic boyfriend, right?”
You slumped entirely back on the couch, still laughing but murmuring: "You must be a fantastic fool."
Lemurians' bodies are not like humans, you appreciated Rafayel's efforts to learn about your cycle and care for you in this manner. He plopped down on the couch next to you, lifted your legs and placed them on his lap. His slender hands rubbed them gently.
“Does it hurt a lot?”
You shook your head. “It doesn't hurt much. Just mild cramps.”
Rafayel nodded. He still remembered you often got cramps in your legs every time your period came. He continued massaging your legs before moving on to your tummy.
“What about this place?”
When your lower abdominal contractions resumed, you let out a tiny cry. Rafayel immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry… Did I hurt you?”
“I-It's okay…” You tried to smile. “I'll probably feel better after a good rest.”
Rafayel's expression shifted slightly. His hand returned to your lower abdomen, continuing to gently rub it. “There you go again. Just say you're hurt when you're in pain. No need to try to act strong in front of me. Did you forget about our agreement last month? Whenever you have your period and are so weak like this, I will become your bodyguard.”
In the lying position, you could see half of Rafayel's face illuminated in the warm glow of the nightlight. His eyes were both concentrated and kind as he continued to ease the pain in your stomach. Suddenly, you couldn't help but jab your finger into his face. He pouted and puffed out both cheeks. Just like a puffer fish.
“Okay, it's all my fault. Now I will let Rafayel take care of me without worrying that I'd bother you.”
"Good. Even though I don't know how to take care of humans, I guarantee you'll be satisfied!”
Rafayel joyfully grasped your hand and kissed the palm to make it less cold. He continued rubbing your abdomen, singing a melody that put you at peace.
“Get some sleep. When you wake up tomorrow, I will still be here, right next to you.”
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𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 
As a child, you imagined your knight arriving in shining armor on a white horse.
It turned out that your knight did not have a horse, but rather a white Hunter's uniform and a coat that he had just removed to wrap around your waist.
It happened when Xavier and you had just finished dealing with the Wanderers on the outskirts of Linkon City. Late at night, an unusual incident occurred. You hurriedly arrived to take on the task, unaware as that time of the month had come.
Perhaps you were too preoccupied with work to remember when your period would start. After finishing the task, you were dismayed to realize that the blood on your dress was not the blood of the Wanderers at all.
Xavier discovered it through your frightened eyes and trembling body. Immediately, he took off his coat, wrapped it around your waist to cover the blood stains, and even carried you a long way home on his back.
Your arms were wrapped around Xavier's neck, your face completely hidden in his shoulder. You felt so embarrassed to let him catch you in such a messy state. However, Xavier continued to soothe and console you. He said:
"It's not a problem at all. You don't need to be embarrassed about this very normal thing."
Even though it still did not feel right, you said nothing more. You were exhausted enough, and your aching body was screaming for a rest.
Xavier took you back to your apartment. You thanked him profusely and quickly went to take a shower. After that, sensing the silence outside, you assumed that Xavier had returned to his home. Unexpectedly, you caught a pack of painkillers on the table. Next to it was his phone.
You did not intend to peek, but because the phone screen was still on, you accidentally saw the content that Xavier was reading: How to take care of your girlfriend during her periods.
You chuckled to yourself. It turned out Xavier was learning how to take care of you. Then, his hand appeared out of nowhere to take the phone back.
“Are you done? Take your pill now."
Xavier gave you a cup of warm water. You smiled: "I thought you went home."
He slowly dropped himself into the seat next to you. “You are so hurt. How can I go home?”
"I'm alright. I'm going to sleep soon, tomorrow I'll feel better.”
Xavier did not seem to take your word for it. He grasped your hands.
“Aren't you going to be in pain for two or three days to a week?”
“Did you just read that on the internet?”
Xavier pondered for a time before nodding: “I... am not very familiar with these things. But I'll stay here until you feel better. Is that okay?"
You gave him a nod and a smile. Xavier got you a painkiller. After taking it he let you lean on the sofa, held your hands tightly, rubbed and breathed on them to bring some warmth.
After a while, your lower abdomen started to hurt. Xavier expressed concern as he noticed your expression:
“It hurts a lot, doesn't it? May I give you a massage?”
He waited for your approval with a nod before placing his hand on your tummy. He gently stroked it clockwise and inquired: "Is this better?"
You shook your head. One hand pointed to the lower abdomen, somewhat below where Xavier's hand was lying. “Here.”
“I see.”
Xavier's fingers went lower, causing you to flush slightly. Xavier said again:
“I only have two hands. One is warming your right hand, the other is massaging your belly. What should I do with your left hand?"
You gazed down at your hand. It wasn't chilly enough to warrant staying warm, but Xavier insisted on it. He also came up with a new idea:
“How about you put your left hand on me.”
You were astonished for a second. "Put it… on you?"
"Yes. Here..." Xavier raised his shirt slightly, showing his abdomen, and glanced at you with anticipation. You sheepishly placed your hand there, and he pulled his shirt down again. “Is it warm?”
You nodded, not sure what else to say. The warmth from his body made you feel heated within. Xavier proceeded to rub your hand and belly. Your hand, which had been put on his body for a short period of time, now became restless. It crept gently upward, to where you could feel his heartbeat quickening.
Xavier stared at you, considered for a time, then said nothing. Since he had let it slide, your hand glided down, past a layer of firm muscles, and then a bit further…
“If you continue to be so naughty, I'll get angry.”
Xavier leaned close to your ear and murmured, his tone irritated, but his gestures seemed to lean heavily on you.
Your fingers twitched slightly as you attentively watched Xavier's slightly furrowed expression. He went on to say: "When I'm angry, it will be quite terrifying. So be a good girl for me.”
Your hand, which was resting in Xavier's, was drawn to his lips as he pressed gentle kisses against it with heated breath. His eyes darkened somewhat; perhaps it was simply the light. You whispered an apology and returned your hand to its previous position. Xavier gazed at you with a small smile.
"If you're sleepy, just lean on me."
"Yes." You responded gently, placing your head on his shoulder and yawning loudly. No matter what the situation was, with him by your side, you would always be safe.
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𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 
You were astonished when Zayne showed up at your door late at night after his shift. Seeing your pale and fragile appearance, he asked you to go to the bedroom for some rest. After faltering a few steps, you nearly collapsed to the floor.
Fortunately, Zayne's dominant arms caught you in time. With one quick movement, he lifted you up with ease.
“Put your arms around my neck.”
Zayne said, and you obediently followed. He carried you to your room, put you on the bed, and drew the blanket over you.
"Give me your hands." You placed your hands on his. Zayne stroked your hands briefly to warm them up before placing them beneath the blanket. "I will make you some tea. Remember to keep yourself warm."
You nodded sheepishly. Your eyes followed Zayne's wide back as it vanished beyond the bedroom door, and you wondered how he knew you were on your period.
You were not convinced this was a coincidence since Zayne prepared you a cup of jujube tea that he had brought with him. He used to give you that drink on days like this. He said it would make the pain less severe. And it was true.
"Drink this. Then eat the red dates, too."
Zayne handed you a cup of tea that he had just blown to cool down the heat. He sat down next to you on the bed. You ate a jujube, turned to look at him, and noticed his palm was already open in front of you.
“Spill it out here.” He said. You looked at him for a moment and then did what you were told. Zayne smiled with satisfaction, patted on your head, then took back the almost empty cup of tea from your hand to it on the night table.
“Feeling better?” Zayne inquired pleasantly as he assisted you in lying back on the bed. 
You smiled faintly and said:
“Just a liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiittle bit better.”
He laughed at your childish behavior. “If it hurts too much, you'll have to go to the hospital.”
You frowned and shook your head vigorously.
“Don't want to? If so, you need to get a good night's sleep. When you wake up, you will definitely be better.”
You gently tugged on Zayne's arm, whispering: "So... Can I get special care from Dr. Zayne? That way I'll get better faster..."
He looked at you with smiling eyes then nodded. You shifted slightly to the opposite side of the bed, making room for him to lie next to you. He instructed. He said:
“Turn around. Then slightly bend your knees closer to your stomach.”
You did what he told you. Your back turned to him, and very soon, you felt the warmth from his body enveloping you.
Zayne embraced you from behind. One of his hands went under the pillow to lift your head up a bit, the other was placed on your stomach. His hand appeared to be large enough to cover your entire stomach. With a delicate touch, his hand began to travel in a circular rhythm on your lower belly.
At first, you felt ticklish and heated given the embarrassment caused by his touch. In addition, Zayne's steady breath was blowing on your hair from behind. He asked:
“Feeling better yet?”
"Yes." You replied softly. “Doctor Zayne's hand is so warm…”
You caught his quiet laughter. He pressed his body closer to you, while you just wanted to hide your face in the pillow. Then, you suddenly remembered what you had wanted to ask him just now:
“How did you know my period would start tonight? You even brought me tea.”
“Can you guess how?”
“Hmm… Let's see. You knew the exact date last month even though I didn't tell you about it... And the month before that too..."
Doctor Zayne allowed you to think about it for a minute. Zayne's knowledge of the days your menstrual cycle would start was most likely due to his perfect memory. Thinking about this, you turned around and his lips brushed your forehead.
"Eh…"
You froze for a second. Doctor Zayne gazed at you. He was so near that you forgot what you were about to say.
"You've got the answer yet?"
Your face became as crimson as the jujube tea. His breath danced over your cheeks as you responded:
“Um… I already knew the answer… Dr. Zayne is so busy, yet he still remembers my cycle?”
“I remember everything related to you.” Zayne spoke, his expression very serious and full of concern. You reluctantly turned aside.
"T-Thank you…"
You noticed Zayne's body pressing closer to yours. He buried his face in your hair and the nape of your neck, his hand continuing to rub your lower abdomen. He whispered:
“Get well soon. Although I hope that what makes you better is not painkillers or tea… but me…”
The corners of your mouth stretched out, smiling so widely that you could not close it. You grabbed his rough hand that was placed on your stomach and replied:
“Doctor Zayne has always been my elixir!”
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𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃
The door to your room opened in the middle of the night, and Caleb emerged, blocking the entire entrance. He was holding a hot compress bag, a glass of milk, and sanitary pads.
"I'm here to rescue you, Pipsqueak."
Caleb turned on the nightlight to see your pale face and unkempt hair. You were writhing on the bed, in anguish from your period. You could only send him a text message with the strawberry emoji and a sobbing expression. He arrived at your bedside about five minutes later.
He assisted you up, gave you some painkillers, and then pressed the hot compress bag on your stomach. You frowned.
"Do you need to be so harsh with someone who is sick?"
"It's on you for not listening to me. Even though you knew you were about to start your period, you still had the urge to drink lots of cold drinks. You only listen to me when you're in pain?"
You grimaced and rolled over on the bed. Due to your sudden movement, you got cramps in your shoulder blades. You cried loudly for help. Caleb just sighed in helplessness. He helped you lie upright again and rubbed your shoulders.
“If I'm not here, who would you whine to?”
Since you knew Caleb was home, you texted him. However, you did not say anything after that. The anguish had utterly drained you. Caleb couldn't stand to torment you any longer after knowing about your situation. He leaned you on his lap and helped you sip your pain reliever and warm milk. The hand on your back kept rubbing you.
"Is it so painful? "Can you try to get some sleep?"
You replied by shaking your head. Caleb patted you some more. "Then I will stay here with you. Okay?"
This time you nodded. Caleb drew you closer. He removed the hot compress bag from your tummy and began rubbing it with his hand. All of a sudden, your childhood came back, when you had your period for the first time and Grandma was not home; there was only Caleb. Even though you had learnt in advance that all girls would have to go through her period every month, you were nevertheless terrified when it arrived. Fortunately, Caleb was by your side. He raced to get sanitary pads for you, poured hot tea, and helped you warm your hands and feet.
At that time, you were really timid. And perhaps from there you saw the differences between you and Caleb. Both of you were no longer innocent children. This unusual feeling also steadily grew since. 
"Lucky you're here…" You whispered, a hand softly tapped on Caleb's.
"Of course. I'm always by your side, pipsqueak." He responded, then lavished you with several delicate kisses on your hair.
"Caleb… Don't disappear, okay?"
Surprised, he said, "Where can I disappear to?I still have to comfort you with your favorite meals tomorrow."
"Tomorrow…" You instantly recalled having a date with Caleb at the amusement park. But this unexpected menstrual cycle ruined that plan. "I'm sorry…"
"No problem." Caleb stroked you on the head. “You can compensate me another day. For now, you just need to rest well.”
“But I still feel like it's my fault… It's been a while since you could have a day off, yet we can't go out…”
Caleb smiled gently. He tucked your loose hair behind your ear. When he looked into your eyes, he said:
“If you're bored, we can watch the series you like together tomorrow. Or play some games.”
Upon hearing that, your mood brightened a little. You loved spending with Caleb, whether it was a date outside or just hanging out at home. They all brought joy to you.
Caleb placed a kiss on your forehead. He went on:
“Don't think too much about it. Go to sleep now so you'll have the strength to bother me again tomorrow."
You laughed. Caleb was always such a teaser, but that was the reason why you were so happy around him.
Coaxing you for a while, when you started to fall into a deep sleep, Caleb whispered softly in your ear:
“Being able to come home and be with my pipsqueak, that's the best kind of vacation for me.”
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arcadia-of-pluto · 2 months ago
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Casually calling them "daddy" LADS
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Word count; 1,913
Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship
Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff
Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!
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You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…
Xavier 
It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 
But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 
Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 
You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 
You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 
“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 
You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 
“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”
“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.
 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 
You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 
“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 
Gosh, he was so cute. 
“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 
“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 
Zayne 
You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 
The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 
Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 
He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 
So, what did you decide to do? 
You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.
That should definitely go over well. 
Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 
“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 
“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 
"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 
“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”
“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 
Rafayel 
It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…
Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 
It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 
He was also so easy to fluster. 
You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 
You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 
Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 
As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 
“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 
“Huh?” 
It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 
“Again.” 
Now, it's your turn to be confused. 
“Raf, what–” 
“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 
“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 
“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 
“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 
“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”
Sylus
It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 
It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 
This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.
But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 
...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 
You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 
And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 
So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 
“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 
“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 
“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 
Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 
“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 
Okay, you got this. 
You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 
The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 
“Sure, kitten.” 
Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 
“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 
“Da–”
“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 
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I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!
I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!
I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)
Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.
I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷
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nickfowlerrr · 4 months ago
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please
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GIF by virgo-opinions
pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: bit of angst, bit of fluff. sweet ending per usual.
words: 1179
notes: "iM gOnnA WrItE a fiVe SenTenCE dRaBblE". i mean. we all should have seen this coming. thank you in advance for reading, i hope you enjoy this! as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated. let me know what you think!
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“Your bed is so much comfier than mine, can I sleep here tonight?”
It’s quiet for a long moment as you make yourself even cozier in Bucky’s bed, nuzzling into the pillow that smells just like him. It is comfier here. And you feel safe as sleep starts to nip at you. It's late, the lights are already out from when Bucky started the movie still playing on the screen, and you know you are both tired - that's why you're already in lounging clothes, having decided to stay in at his place tonight instead of going out to dinner like you'd originally planned. It'd been a long week, as if the mission hadn't been rough enough, the paperwork that's followed has been hell to get through.
All you wanted was a nice night with your boyfriend, and now that you're this comfortable and content, the last thing you want is to move, the leave and have this peace be over as you walk back over to your place. Your bed is a lot colder, and in truth what makes his so comfy is simply his presence.
Even when he's quiet, it's...
Wait, he's still quiet.
You turn your head to look at him as he sits at the foot of his bed. He looks anxious and you suddenly feel your stomach twist. What were you thinking?
You've talking about this before, the night after you first slept together. You'd fallen asleep in his arms and woke up feeling incredible, only to have your heart drop to your stomach when you realized you were alone and Bucky was nowhere to be found... Until you found him on your couch, dark circles under his eyes from no sleep and an apology falling from his lips the second he saw you, sitting up to explain. Nightmares, terrors, he didn't want to get into but wanted to explain why he'd left you alone. He didn't want to risk waking you up to that. You understood, and you'd broached the subject of staying the night a few times since then just to see where he was at, but never pushed. You trusted he'd let you know when he felt ready for it.
But now look at you, pushing without even thinking.
You sit up, a little too suddenly, and Bucky’s head whips to you. The anxiety in his eyes shifts to fear as he meets your embarrassed gaze.
You open your mouth to take it back, to apologize, but he beats you to speaking.
“No, no, no,” he rushes, unthinkingly urging you back down on the mattress as he leans over you; your eyes widen and you let him touch you. It’s a rushed movement, but gentle all the same as he eases you to lay back.
His face is inches away from yours and for a second you forget everything but the gleaming blue of his eyes and the soft plumpness of his lips.
“Stay,” he breathes, “I want you to stay.”
You swallow thickly, finding your throat dry. “Are you sure? I didn’t mean to-“
“I’m sure. I've wanted to ask you for a while, I just… I’m not the most peaceful sleeper,” he says shamefully. "I really don't want to scare you away."
It physically hurts to hear his unease. You want so badly to take his worry away, to show him he has nothing to be scared or ashamed of.
“Nothing you do could ever scare me away."
You can tell just by looking at him that he doesn't believe it, and you don't know how to make him.
You reach a hand to move the strand of hair that's fallen from behind his ear back out of his face before you hold his cheek lightly. You lean up as he leans down and brush your lips against his before you really kiss him, carefully - soft and slow.
"You're always there for me," you murmur, "I wanna be here for you, too." You card your hand though his hair as he lets his forehead fall against yours, his eyes closed in contentment at the feeling before he sighs and sits back.
You watch him for a moment, you can still sense his trepidation...
"You can say no, Bucky," you tell him gently.
He looks at you again, his brows furrowed ever so slighty and a small pout on his lips. "I don't wanna say no. I want you to stay and I want... I want to be normal for you."
Your eyes burn and your throat gets tight as you watch his bright blue eyes blink furiously as he looks away from you again. You sit up all the way and reach for him, turning his head so he's looking you in your eyes.
"Don't do that," you say, doing your best to keep your voice from wavering. "There is no such thing as normal, Bucky. And even if there was, I wouldn't want it. I mean who cares about normal anyway?"
He looks pained as he holds your hand in hand and it's quiet again for a beat.
"I know you don't wanna say no, but you won't be hurting me if you need to."
He doesn't look up from your hand in his, only squeezes it in response.
You smile softly, taking the gesture as his admission that he isn't ready yet, and move to get up off the bed again, only to be stopped by Bucky once more.
"You wanna stay?"
"Only if you want me to," you murmur.
He looks at you, really looks, like he's searching for some sign, something in your eyes that'll give away that you want an escape, that you really want to go. He finds nothing, because it's the last thing you'd ever want.
"Will you lay down with me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper, you almost couldn't hear him over the movie still playing on his television in the background.
"Of course," you say simply as you once again allow him to lay you back down. He joins you this time, slowly laying himself down next to you. When you get comfortable again, he turns into you, and ever so slowly, moves to rest his head on your chest as he lays on his side, hugging himself to you.
It's delicate. One of those moments you know you'll look back on over and over, one you'll always treasure, seeing him feel safe enough with you to be this vulnerable, this soft.
The silence is anything but uncomfortable as you run the fingers of one hand through his hair, massaging away his tension as he relaxes further into you.
"Can I tell you something?" his voice sounds deeper already as he speaks.
"Anything."
"Lately, the only time I can ever manage to fall asleep, is when I picture you here with me." His breathing is getting deeper as he nuzzles into you and you hold him tighter as you push down your rising wave of emotions at his confession.
"I want you to stay..." he murmurs. "Please stay."
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neroushalvaus · 1 year ago
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Okay I am going to use the Somerton situation to talk about something that is very important to me. Following the discussion I have seen former Somerton fans being disappointed in themselves and questioning how they can ever trust another video essayist again. I have also seen some people being smug because to them Somerton was obviously unreliable from the start. As a person who also saw the "red flags" in Somerton, I would like to skip the smugness and talk a bit about what the red flags were to me.
Someone else has probably posted something similar and Hbomberguy's & Todd in the Shadows's videos touched a few of these points, but they didn't focus on them or how to spot these things. I think it is a good thing: I think it would have reinforced the idea that Somerton's fans were to blame for being lied to, and these youtubers didn't want to pin any blame on the fans. Also, some of the things I'm going to talk about were not by any means proof of him being unreliable, they were common tropes I personally associate with people who are bullshitting on internet. Think of it as something like spotting terfs: If you consider following a tumblr user and find out they have at some point posted "males will always be a danger to females no matter what they say", it is very possible that they are not a terf. Maybe they were having a bad day and were just wording their post badly – But you should probably search "trans" from their blog before following them, just to be sure.
So, the tropes in James Somerton's content that I consider red flags:
Lack of sources. This one may seem obvious and Hbomb talked about this in his video, but the lack of sources in his videos was outrageous. Video essays are called essays for a reason, they are not supposed to be just a guy talking about whatever comes to his mind, they should be well researched essays. Obviously video essays should contain one's own thoughts and interpretations and those do not need citations. But James Somerton didn't come out of the womb knowing everything about LGBT history, Disney and film theory, if he actually knew something about all this stuff, he should have learnt it from somewhere. There should be sources he could point to. It is very common that even when a video essayist doesn't tell you where they got all their information, they open their video by saying stuff like "when I prepared for this video I read the book Also sprach Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche and this one thrilling blog post about lesbian cruising in 1960s Sweden". From what I've seen, James does not really do this. From watching his videos you could arrive to the conclusion that James Somerton does not read any books, he just knows everything. There are situations where people don't feel the need to add sources, like when the information is considered common knowledge or when the topic relates heavily to the essayist's actual academic field or profession. This is okay and very understandable, but can sometimes be dangerous, since if the video essayist markets himself as a marketing specialist, people are more likely to take his word for stuff that has to do with marketing, even without sources. It is understandable that in many situations an essayist may think "why should I cite a source? I know this thing!", but doing your research well is partly about checking if the information you are certain of is actually true. Also, as Hbomb pointed out, if you can cite a source, your audience can go learn more about the subject. It's not about anyone doubting you know your stuff, it's about learning. That's why well-respected video essayists usually cite their sources very clearly.
Lack of pictures and screenshots. This is about different kinds of sources again, many things on this list are kind of about sources. An example: When James Somerton made a video about JKR, he mentioned something about Rowling at one time saying that trans students in 30-50Feralhogs (or whatever the wizard school is called) could use magic to present as their gender. If this was any other video essayist, you'd expect a tweet to pop up, or something else confirming Rowling ever said this. Nothing pops up, obviously because Rowling didn't say this, but you can't see anything fishy in that because things rarely pop up in Somerton's videos. He doesn't show you court documents when speaking about a court case, he doesn't show you the comments apparently mad at him for implying the gay anime is gay when he is complaining about people being mad at him. There is a reason people show screenshots and tweets in video essays. When a good video essayist says JK Rowling has tweeted that all people who menstruate should be referred to as women, the video essayist shows the tweet so people know they are not making it up. If there were hoards of annoying bitc-- I mean, angry white women whining about gay sex in HuffPost articles or Somerton's youtube comments, he should have no trouble showing you those. Remember that you should not trust someone just because they show you pictures or screenshots. Pictures can be photoshopped, screenshots can be doctored. Many youtubers are aware that you listen to their videos while cleaning or while walking your dog and don't actually see the screen all the time, and some may take advantage of that by saying something like "and here she threatened to kill me" while showing a text message where someone said "die mad about it". A screenshot alone isn't much but you should demand to see the screenshot.
Passive voice. I am once again bitching about this. Somerton repeatedly says things like "it's been said that" or "it was common knowledge that" or "a legend says that" or "according to most interpretations". He doesn't say who says it, making it very hard to fact check and that seems to be his goal in some cases.
Relying heavily on anecdotes. Writing a dense, analytical video about film theory or history can be exhausting and you may want to pepper in little fun facts. However Somerton seemed to rely on these heavily; he can't just talk about how he has totally bought every lie told by The Pink Swastika, he also needs to tell a cute little anecdote about SS men forcing sexual favours out of men. He can't just tell a story about a court case, he needs to add in ridiculous stuff about the jury booing. This is what I mean by not all the things on this list being necessarily proof of someone being unreliable. Many people use anecdotes and little stories in their storytelling, it makes the videos flow better and it's hard to decide which anecdotes are valid and which are not. A source obviously makes an anecdote a bit more believable, but here are some things that instantly make me fact check an anecdote:
It's a bit too convenient, poetic or ironic. Sometimes real life is weirder than fiction but if an anecdote is "perfect" and has an amazing punchline and you could write twelve poems about it, there is a possibility it was invented by pop science books.
It assumes your political enemies are stupid. Dunking on conservatives, MRAs and transphobes is always fun and after you've seen a lot of this kind of content it's easy to believe anything about these people. You must resist the impulse to believe everything that may make your opponents look stupid.
The person telling the anecdote implies it is an example of a larger, systemic problem. You know what's worse than taking a random happenstance from human history or internet and basing an entire political theory on it? The said random happenstance being made up. You should in general be wary of people telling one story and explaining why it's an example of everything that's wrong in the world. We live in a huge world. You can always find a white woman who loves cute gays but hates the idea of Nick Heartstopper and Charlie Heartstopper getting nasty but that doesn't mean it's an indicator of a larger issue.
Simplifying complex issues. We all know that "only the boring gays survived the AIDS crisis, and that's why gays started to only care about marriage equality and military" is a horrible, insensitive thing to say, but you also have to think about it for like two seconds to realize that it can't be correct. It kind of reminds me of the "roe v wade caused the crime drop of 1990s" claim in Freakonomics. It sounds logical and simple, like a basic math calculation. Societal issues rarely are like that, though. You should never believe anyone who tells you about a huge societal shift and says it happened because of one thing and one thing only.
These were some of the things I noticed in Somerton's content that caused me to distrust him. I hope these were helpful to you and feel free to add your own "red flags" if you feel like it!
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angelfrombeneth · 10 months ago
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7 MINUTES - T . NOTT
Mature Content Ahead
Theodore Nott x F!Reader
Summary: *REQUESTED* During a late night with your friends, after a chaotic slytherin party - you all wind down in the boys dorms. After a while, a game is played with a twist, Who knows what'll happen in that small wardrobe.
Warnings: SMUT, Switch!Theo, Switch!Reader, Oral both F & M!Receiving, Breathplay, Dacryphillia
A/N: This isn't proof read, I apologise. I've been really busy with deadlines so writing may not be as good. I'm writing a good two part smut that'll come out soon!
You and Theodore are friends, and have been for years. You both harbour a small crush on one another but neither of you two know about the others crush - and neither do your friends, except Pansy.
Pansy knows every single secret that passes through Hogwarts. She knows everything about everyone and basically has hundreds of secrets at her disposal. Times like these, makes you grateful you guys are friends and not enemies.
After an infamous Slytherin party, which was chaotic as always. You all retreated up to the boys dorm and into Mattheo, Theodore and Enzo's shared dorm - much to Mattheo's dismay.
Mattheo stumbled over to his bed, crashing face first into the pillows, letting out a loud groan.
"I told you not to drink so much" Pansy scoffed, throwing a pillow harshly at him as she grabbed your hand and pulled you over to Enzo, who was sat on his bed.
You sat, giggling as you snuggled between Pansy and Enzo. The pair cuddling you from both sides.
"Why is it that the gay ones get the most action" Draco scoffed in our direction. Sitting beside Blaise on Theo's bed as Theo sat pratically ontop of Mattheo.
"Don't be upset Draco, we get more action that you" Pansy snickered.
"Fuck off" Draco scoffs.
At that moment Daphne, Luna, Astoria, Cedric and Hermione join. Hermione was particularly nervous being in the Slytherin common room, especially the fact her two best friends are Slytherin mega haters.
You and Pansy had adopted Hermione into your 'girlie' group after you heard abt issues between her and Ron, she needed some girly guidance and you guys were there.
"Mione!" You cheered, as she smiled seeing you as she walked over you both exchanging a hug.
"Nice to know your excited to see me Y/N" Astoria scoffed. You and Astoria were good friends, with her being Daphne's younger sister she was worried about bonding with people - but you two were like glue always having the best jokes together.
"Shut up Tori" You laughed.
Everyone sat down in huddles and exchanged light conversation. Mattheo pulled out his bong which got everyone looking at him. It wasn't long before everyone sat in a circle and was passing it around and basking in the 'chill vibes'.
You were sat inbetween Enzo and Astoria, giggling away at something Enzo had said. You felt eyes on you, and looked up to see Theo's dark piercing gaze looming over you. He had been looking at you all night, you noticed it and he knew you knew. But you both were too pussy to even make a move.
He turned away, putting a cigarette in his mouth, covering the end as he lit it with his lighter before taking the cigarette between his fingers, leaning back and exhaling up in the air. His arms tensed as he held his weight his muscles slightly prominent. Theo was the definition of a sleeper build, you didn't know for sure but what you had seen from his arms you had a suspicion.
"Alright!" Pansy slapped her hands together. "I think we should play a game. How about, kiss or tell~" She sang. Everyone laughing at her, a few groans sounding around the room.
"Kiss or tell?" Hermionie questioned.
Daphne giggled at her as she sat back on Blaises lap, "Its where someone asks you kiss or tell, you choose and if it's kiss- we spin the bottle and whoever it lands on you kiss OR tell, you have to answer a truth question". Hermione nodded.
"Okay... I'll start Kiss or Tell.. Enzo" Pansy smiled to Enzo.
"Tell because I know you want some secrets" Enzo smirked.
"I always do, now.. Is it true you hooked up with Pucey and Wood in the same night" Everyone's head snapped to Enzo hearing the same rumour had been circulating Hogwarts for a few weeks.
"Yes and No? I did hook up with Pucey and Wood in the same night but it was also Fred Weasley too" He smirked. Everyone laughing at his response.
"You whore!" Draco laughed.
"I always knew you were sneaky" Mattheo looked at Enzo.
"Is that why I had to sleep on the fucking common room couch?" Theo scoffed.
Everyone laughed due to Theo's confession. The game went on a few more times, Draco choosing to kiss Blaise, Blaise admiring he blocked the toilet, Cedric and Enzo kissing, Pansy and Luna kissing, Hermione and Daphnne kissing, Enzo and You kissing which then brings you back to Enzo again.
"OK OK.. Astoria, Kiss or Tell?"
"Kiss duh!" She said as she pushed her hair back from her shoulders.
"Kiss... Mattheo" Enzo span the bottme, watching as it landed on Mattheo, he smirked. Only you, Pansy and Enzo knew of Astoria's mini crush on Mattheo.
You hid your mouth behind your hand as he grinned. Her eyes shooting daggers towards you and Enzo.
"Pucker up, sugar tits" Mattheo sighed as he watched Astoria get up from her spot.
"Shut up Mattheo" She groaned as she crouched before him, placing her hand on his shoulder as she kissed him.
Whopping sounded through the room as the pair kissed, after a few moment they pulled away- surprisingly both very red.
"Mattheo are you hard" Theo teased him, earning a massive smack over the head. "Ow! Fuck!"
You giggled slightly as Theo, rubbed the back of his head, looking up at you.
"Actually, I wanna change the rules because that was cruel!" She smirked as she rubbed her chin, staring directly at you. "Y/N" She cooed.
You stared at her blankly. "7 minutes" everyone sounded intruiged. "In the wardrobe with... Theodore" Astoria didn't know about your crush on Theo. Only Pansy but you froze when she said his name.
"Interesting pairing Tori" Blaise quirked.
"Very interesting actually, I didn't expect that" Cedric looked to Enzo, him nodding along.
You stood up, darting your eyes over to Pansy who had a devilish grin.
"While your both in there we will play Spin the bottle!" Astoria clasped her hands. You turned your head away from her and was faced with a chest. Theo's chest as he stood infront of you. You froze for a moment but he took your wrist and guided you over to the slightly walk in wardrobe. The pair of you pulled the door to the side as you stepped in, closing the door.
"Seven minutes!" Astoria yelled and that's the last thing you heard before shut.
"Why would she change the game" You scoffed, leaning against the wall.
"Very Astoria, flippy-floppy as always" He laughed. The small light in the room, lighting up his face slightly but it was still quiet dark. The pair of you leaning against opposite walls as you looked at eachother. Despite being on other sides it was a small wardrobe. His leg was pratically sandwiched between yours as you both cramped in here. Theo was like 6'1 and you were like 5'6 so the height difference was a bit.
"Its so cramped in here" You moved slightly, looming up to see Theo right above you. This was a very uncomftable situation and you were getting hot. "Its quite hot in here-" You awkwardly laughed as you fanned yourself.
Theo smirked down at you, noticing your very prominent cheeks. He had an ideas, he wanted to test- it was either now or never. He lifted his leg slightly between yours rubbing his thigh against your core as yiu squeaked. "Sorry, its quite tight-"
Your face reddened, your mind was plagued with dirty thoughts as you let out a shaky laugh. "Its ok-" You croaked.
"Fuck my life, your oblivious" Theo groaned as he placed a hand on your neck, crashing his lips against yours. You froze for a moment which caused Theo to pull away. Before he could say anything you wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him back as your lips hit eachothers. This is all you wanted, was to kiss Theo.
Theo's free hand slid down your waist and around to your ass as he squeezed it slightly. You gasped at the motion which he took as an invitation to shove his tonguebin your mouth. The two of you were making out for what felt like forever before you both pulled away panting.
You stared at him, his face just millimeteres from yours. You can feel eachothers breath on one another. You saw his lips curl into a smirk as he pecked your lips once more before latching his mouth to your neck. It took you off guard and you let out a soft squeak as you leaned your head back. His lips were attacking your neck, nibbling and sucking but not enough to leave a prominent hickey which you were grateful. He moved further down towards your chest before stopping and looking up at you. You smiled down at him and he took that as permission as he reached round and unzipped your strapless dress, watching as it fell from your body revealing your extremely bare breasts.
"One piece of fabric covering these.. Fuck me" He smirked, kissing towards your breast before latching his mouth onto them, sucking the skin softly as he groped the other one with his hand. You let out soft shaky moans, gripping his hair tightly as you leaned your head back.
"Fuck- Teddy" you sighed, you could feel his smirk against your skin as he pulled away, dropping to his knees as he pushed you up against the folding door. It rustled for a moment but you were too invested in Theo. He bit and sucked at your thighs, definitely leaving marks here as he moved closer and closer to your core. His fingers hooking on the sides of your panties as he looked up at you.
"May I?" You nodded as he smiled, pulling tour panties down slowly as you quickly stepped out of them and he tucked them in his pocket. "Going to keep these, a little trophy"
Before you could protest his hand pushed your stomach as you leaned back against the door, your hands tangled in his hair as you peered down at him.
"Don't worry Bella, I'm a master" He smirked as he tapped your thigh for you to spread your legs before diving in head first.
You yelped, gripping at his hair as you leaned back, nibbling at your lip to hold your moans in. You gasped as you felt his tongue move inside of you, his nose rubbing against your clit as he ate you out.
You were entranced in heaven. Theo lifted one of your legs onto his shoulder to get a deeper angle, you really were in heaven. You tugged his hair as you let out soft moans, being careful not to be too loud.
"Fuck!" Your body betraying you as you slapped a hand over your mouth quickly as you grinded down on his face. Your eyes rolling in pleasure as he tongue moved lyrically against your folds. Like he was singing a song. The way he swirled and flicked had you nearly on the floor, if it wasn't for him and the door supporting you.
You gasped loudly as you whimpered out tugging his hair before throwing your head back and cumming all over his face. You panted heavily, your hand still over your mouth as you stood out of breath.
Theo pulled away, putting your leg down as he smirked, licking his lips as he stood up to look at you. "Taste perfect"
You gulped as you looked up at him.
"I love how you're still nervous, you're cute. Now taste yourself" He smiled as he kissed you softly once again. His hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. You could feel his clothed boner rubbing against your stomach as you gulped.
"Mhm.. Cute" He smiled as he pulled away. Theo didn't expect anything from you which was a huge change. He wanted to pleasure you and that's that- but you wanted to pleasure him.
You took his wrist looking at his watch. 4 minutes. You flicked your hair back as you settled onto your knees. Theo looking down at your questionably as you tugged at his trousers.
"Oh- Bella you don't have to-"
"Shh, I want to" You smiled, yanking off his belt, dropping it to the floor as you unbuttoned his trousers, yanking them down.
His throbbing erection directly infront of you in his boxers. You took a deep breath before yanking down his boxers, as they dropped to his ankles. Watching as his dick sprung out. You stared up at him in disbelief due to the size. You hasn't been with anyone this big before.
"You think you can take it, Principessa" He smirked as he caressed your cheek.
"I can try" You chuckled, pumping him a few times before licking the tip softly. His bottle lip instantly retracting into his mouth as he bit the flesh. You worked on getting him excited, licking up his length and swirling your tongue around the tip as you listened to his gasps and sighs above.
After a small amount of teasing you took the first few inches into your mouth. Sucking softly as you used your hands to satisfy the rest. Soft moans left his mouth as his hand collected your hair and yanked it into a ponytail.
"Fuck- your so hot" He sighed.
You take a few more inches, bobbing your head up and down at this point as you gripped his thigh. After getting used to it you took him in whole. You gagged slightly at first but continued to swirl your tongue around his whole length as you moved your head up and down against it. Theo's soft whines leaving his lips as he leaned back, panting heavily.
"Fuck yes.. More" He whimpered out as he pleaded to you. You didn't know you needed to see a submissive Theodore till now.
You continued to work your magic, popping his dick out your mouth as you licked and sucked the side before deep throwing yet again. The moans and whines from him as he hit your throat were amazing. You snaked your free hand that wasn't gripping his thigh down between your legs and you rubbed your clit. Grinding down against it as you hummed, bobbing your head. He was making you feel good all over and it was driving you insane.
"Fuck- Y/N- I can't hold back.. Fuck im sorry" He yelped as he gasped, gripping your hair tightly as he began to fuck into your mouth. It didn't take you completely off guard as you prepared for it. Your eyes rolled slightly as he continuesly hit the back of your throat, light gags coming from you as you slid your finger past your folds and inside of you as you fucked yourself.
Theo's breathless moans and whines sounded the wardrobe as he growled as he fucked into your throat harshly. Tears streaming down your face as your hand gripped harder on his thigh.
"Yes, take it like the slut you are hmm.. your a slut for me right" You hummed loudly as you sobbed with his cock full in your mouth.
"Love it, when cry for me" He smirked, watching as tears fell down your face. His pace speeding up at the sight.
You needed to tap out it was too much for you, you pushed your finger inside you once more before you came all over it, quickly pulling you as you gripped his thighs tightly aa his pace sped. You gaged quite loudly as tears poured from your eyes. Theo pulled out quickly for a moment, jerking himself off harshly as he took your head in his hand. "Yiu ok- Fuck" He moaned as he panted, his dick twitching in his fist.
You coughed slightly, before wiping your mouth and eyes looking up at him nodding.
"Good girl- Ah.. fuck- stick out your tongue" He groaned, as he watched you stick your tongue out staring up at him. His thrusts his hand roughly over his dick as he let out a deep groan as his body jerked as he came on your face, but mostly in your mouth.
You swallowed it all, before licking your lips and wiping some off your cheek and sucking your finger. You stood up looking up at him and smiling as he smiled softly at you, with a fucked out expression.
He leaned against the wall panting heavily as his hand was over his eyes. "Fuck- I can't even see straight" He laughed. You giggled, taking his wrist checking the time and seeing 1 minute.
You pulled your dress back on, zipping it up as you pulled Theo's phone from his jeans, fixing your makeup in the minimal light.
"You got me fucked up" He laughed, pulling up his boxers and jeans and buckling his belt before wiping his face over and ruffling his hair.
"Good, and I'd happily do it again" You smirked, flattening your hair out as the two of you now look widely presentatable.
Just in the moment you heard a mumble before light pours into the wardrobe as the door is ripped open. You squinted adjusting to the light, everyone looking at the pair of you.
"What! I wanted to catch them fucking or something" Mattheo scoffed.
"Boring, I would've been so down for that" Astoria groaned.
"We just spoke, there's nothing else to do" You shrugged, walking back to the group. Pansy's eyes like daggers on you and Theo as she scanned you both. You'd nearly gotten away with it until you turned towards Daphne who was sat next to her to reply and she saw the dark bite mark on your thigh just under your dress.
"Gotcha" She smirked to you and you looked at her clueless. You sat back down in your seat opposite Theo as the two of you smiled to one another.
You'd be doing this again sometime soon...
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tsxkkis · 5 months ago
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# kageyama tobio - private
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a/n: not proud of this, because i didn't truly know how to end it. also i've been searching for a job lately and it's so damn hard to find one help T-T i still gotta try though because i want money for figurines and mangas :33
summary: your relationship with kageyama was a secret from the public, but it can't be private forever.
warnings: none really
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tobio kageyama never answers his phone while training.
his mind was always set on one thing - volleyball. it's like everything else was secondary to his beloved sport, to his safe space, which he adored and treasured dearly. there was only one thing he loved just as much; but that was kept a secret from the world.
along with being a professional athlete came the fame, and with the fame came lack of privacy, something that kageyama seemed to hate from the very beginning of joining schweiden adlers. he vowed to himself that his private life will never become a topic of public discussion, that he'll control every information that comes out to the media as much as he possibly can.
'they're writing about you.' ushijima's voice echoed through their changing room as he handed the black-haired boy his phone, an internet article opened up on one of the most popular gossip pages. upon seeing the title and content of the article, the look on his face instantly changed - he looked irritated, almost insulted. kageyama's nose scrunched in dissatisfaction as if he's just seen another picture of hinata and oikawa hanging out in brazil.
'ooh, let me see!' hoshiumi snached the phone away, curious eyes following the text on the screen, a small gasp leaving his parted lips every now and then. kageyama was quick to get the phone back with an annoyed huff, suddenly putting his shoes on much quicker than before.
the white-haired man looked like he was about to say something, but he was quickly cut off before he could even let a word out.
'don't even mention it.'
'you have a GIRLFRIEND?!'
the changing room fell silent, the only two men left there besides kageyama standing still, awaiting an answer. but as they noticed the tips of tobio's ears turning into a color similar to a rose and his gaze avoiding their glares, they realized they didn't need one.
they weren't exactly shocked by their discovery - tobio was always a private person, and he didn't really talk about his life much, much preffering conversations about volleyball instead of one's that circled around him.
a notification popped up on his phone, disrupting the silence between the three men.
it was you.
'i'm waiting in front of the changing room like i told you yesterday :33'
'hurry up!'
tobio realized he completely forgot about his promise to you, and as his cheeks flushed pink, he suddenly realized that maybe the whole situation wasn't so bad after all.
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'you want to meet my teammates?'
kageyama's stood in your shared room's doorframe, a curious look on his face. 'why the hell would you want to meet these idiots?'
'i want to get to know the people my boyfriend hangs out with.' you mumbled, putting down the book you were currently reading. 'you know, i understand that you want to protect your peace from the outside world, but i don't think you have to hide your entire life from your work friends. they seem trustworthy, for all i know.'
the black-haired man plopped onto the bed right next to you, choosing your arm as a perfect pillow for himself. the room fell silent for a few minutes, but you didn't pressure tobio to answer you right away - from the look on his face you knew he was thinking, rather intensely at that, so there was no point in disrupting his trail of thoughts.
'how am i supposed to break it to them, though?' he asked, a genuinely confused look on his face. 'hey, i've been in a relationship for the last four years and never told you, sorry.'
a giggle left your mouth, your hand softly brushing through your boyfriend's hair, twirling the short strands around your fingers.
'i can just come to meet you up after practice and introduce myself. it'll be less awkward for you that way.'
kageyama hummed in response, as if he was deciding on whether he should go with your idea or not. he knew that your relationship being uncovered was inevitable - that sooner or later, they would find out anyways. so maybe your idea wasn't so bad.
'tommorow?' he mumbled, head leaning into your soft hands, almost as if he was pleading you to play with his hair just a tad bit longer.
'fine by me.'
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you stood in one place, patiently awaiting your boyfriend as you scrolled through your phone, invested in a particularly hard game of sudoku. as you heard the door crack open, your eyes quickly shot up, hoping to be met with your boyfriend's tall figure. instead, a way shorter, white-haired man showed up right in front of you, bright eyes scanning your figure from head to toe.
'i know you! you used to be karasuno's manage-'
'give her some space, hoshiumi.' a tall man appeared from behind him, one that you recognized to be ushijima almost immediately. you remembered both of the men from your times in high school, and yet you never truly had a chance to meet them properly - not until now, that is.
as you greeted tobio, who emerged from the changing room shortly after, you weren't even surprised that he opted for a hug instead of a kiss - although an adult already, kageyama was still awkward with any public displays of affection. he preferred to keep those special moments to himself.
'have you seen the article?' he hummed quietly, his eyes glued to your face smiling at your confused look.
'what article?'
although a little dumbfounded by your lack of knowledge of it, kageyama quickly pulled out his phone and handed it to you, the article opened up on the screen.
'oh.' your face went blank as you eyed the words in front of you, suddenly connecting the dots. 'so that's why there's so many reporters and paparazzi in front of the building.
reporters? paparazzi?
'shit.' he mumbled under his breath. 'how many of them?'
'around ten, maybe eleven.' kageyama's smile dropped almost immediately upon hearing the number. you carefully scanned his face, hand going up to gently ruffle his hair. 'we can wait for them to leave if you don't want them to see us. i don't mind.'
he thought for a hot minute, rethinking every possible scenario that could happen, every option available. was he truly ready for his private life to become so... public?
kageyama wasn't exactly sure. you've been together for so long that he knew this relationship would last through anything and everything, but at the same time, he didn't want things to change. he hated changes - they never truly meant anything good, and he would always avoid them as much as possible.
but this change was inevitable.
'it's alright.' he said, breaking the moment of silence. 'it would've happened sooner or later. might as well have this behind us, right?'
'are you sure?' you asked quietly, squeezing his hand as you saw kageyama already heading towards the door. his head quickly turned to face you, giving you a small nod before his hand landed on the handle.
'not entirely.' he admitted, eyes darting away from your gaze. 'but i can do it as long as it's with you.'
'hey, don't forget about us!' hoshiumi's stated, your boyfriend shooting him a deathly glare for interrupting the moment between you two. 'maybe we should all grab some dinner, what do you say? i'm sure you're all hungry.'
'come to think of it,' ushijima barged into the conversation, his usual monotone tone. 'i know a restaurant where the paparazzi won't bother us.'
you exchanged looks with tobio, a barely noticeable smile on your face being enough for him to know that you agree.
'let's do it.' the black-haired man said, solidifying the idea once and for all.
'what if they won't leave us alone?' he could see that your anxious side took over, suddenly stressed out about going outside. kageyama gave you a reassuring look, smiling softly.
'then they'll know how amazing my girlfriend is.'
'oooh, how corny-' hoshiumi mumbled, stopping when he saw kageyama's annoyed glare. 'alright, lovebirds, i'll be quiet.'
'you'd better.' you giggled at your boyfriend's words, his hand once again on the handle. he looked your way, softly smiling down at you. 'ready?'
you looked up, eyes meeting his.
'with you by my side? always.'
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taglist: @moonswolfie
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artemis32 · 5 months ago
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yandere Tim Drake i
this man has the sluttiest undercut I've ever seen - also, this is shit, but you pretend to love it, okay? Okay.
dc masterlist
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Thinking about Tim Drake, who, in all his time as Red Robin, has never once caught a break.
He's always busy, always out on patrol, busting drug rings or trafficking schemes, always locked up in a dark, soulless room doing research for Bruce, always doing something.
So, one day, when he finds a small slice of heaven, a refuge from the never ending list of responsibilities he has to see to, he's sure to grab it with both hands and keep it close to his chest.
He, somewhat guiltily, doesn't tell anyone about it. It feels like something just for him - a space for him to relax, where he doesn't have to pretend he has his whole life together.
Maybe it's a dusty old library hidden between the high-rises of Gotham Central, maybe it's a dingy cybercafe he stumbled upon after a long night of patrol. Or perhaps it's not even a physical place - maybe it's an online forum or group chat of some kind.
No matter what it might've been, it had grown to be a safe haven. And it only becomes better when, one stupidly sweltering summer afternoon, you slip in.
Sweet, oblivious you.
God, he loved you. You were everything he wanted to be. Free of all worry and hardship, at least in his eyes. You were innocent and so sickly sweet. He loved everything about you. From the way your eyes sparkled when you got excited, and the animated way you spoke, using your hands to make wide, sweeping gestures, to the tired scowl that pinched your mouth and brow after a long day.
The clothes you wore, the way you smelled, the beautiful, soft glow of your skin, he loved it all.
****
He loved you.
Only, you didn't exactly know he existed. And he never actually, you know, spoke to you. But that didn't matter! No, not at all, not when he had enough love for the both of you.
He knew everything about you.
Where you lived, how old you were, your likes and dislikes, every dirty little secret you thought you could hide away, things you thought were kept concealed in the corners of your mind.
He knew, and he loved you regardless. Not in spite of them, but rather, because of them. He loved that you were so flawed, so imperfect, and yet still so innocent to your core. He felt the deep seated need to keep you that way, to maintain that innocence and shield it from the horrors of Gotham, of the world.
That was why he watched over you, every hour of every day.
Did he think it was wrong, or creepy? Yeah, a bit, but he didn't really care to change. How bad could his actions really be, if they were keeping you safe?
So what if hacking all your devices and bugging your house wasn't legal? He was a vigilante, he was just doing his job. So what if he put a tracker in every pair of shoes you owned? He just needed to keep track of your movements, make sure you weren't wandering off anywhere too dangerous.
More than a few times, he'd followed you at night, watching from above as you ambled through the streets of Gotham, completely oblivious to how vulnerable you were. Really, how did you manage to survive this long without him watching over you? Do you even know how many robberies and assaults he'd saved you from before they'd happened?
He held off on actually speaking to you, as Tim Drake or Red Robin. Maybe it was nerves, or fear, or something beyond the words he had to communicate what he felt for you. Regardless, he was content watching you from the side lines.
For now.
****
After a while of watching from a distance, he'd decided he needed a bit more than just the sight of you. That's how he ended up donning his Red Robin costume and letting himself into your apartment one night to watch over you as you slept.
It had quickly become an admittedly bad habit, one that he didn't bother trying to correct.
Watching you calmed something within him, something he hadn't even known was there. He'd started including your small apartment on his patrols, at least three times a week, and it's become the highlight of his day.
Then, one day, months after this little song and game of his started, he decided enough was enough. Why was he being so weird and pathetic about it? He was a hero. He was smart, and attractive (or at least, that's what his mother used to say), and he was rich. He was the whole package. What more could someone ask for?
So, he bit the bullet and talked to you. Or, he would have, if you'd actually, you know, shown up. But you didn't. And that was fine! Totally, 100% fine! It wasn't like he felt disappointed or angry or anything. He'd just try again another time.
Only... in the months that he'd known you, his patience had dwindled to a near trickle, and he realised he couldn't wait. And so, he made probably the dumbest, most rookie mistake of his vigilante career.
He snuck into your apartment and, naturally, as one does, revealed himself to you. In full costume, mask and all. Well, the mask had come off about ten minutes into his fanatical rant, but-
Wait, why were you looking at him like that?
No, no, don't- don't back away. Hey, why were you reaching for your phone? Who were you calling?
The police? No, no, no, no, no- This isn't how it was supposed to go, damnit!
****
Now, watching you sleep in his bed, so cosy and soft, as if you belonged there (you did belong there), he chides himself for not doing this sooner.
What was he so scared of? Sure, you'd seemed a bit overwhelmed when he'd dropped onto your balcony and stepped into your apartment, but it was probably just sheer joy that had you screaming like that.
And, well, sure, you'd rambled on about him watching you for months prior - which he had - but for you to call it 'stalking' seemed like a bit of an over exaggeration.
Despite all that, he knew - knew - that you'd be so happy when you woke up. As happy as you made him. Because despite everything going on in his life - his struggles as Robin, with Batman and Damian, with Stephanie and Connor, and leading the Young Justice team - despite all that, he had you.
And just the thought of you alone brightened his day.
Now? Having you here, with him, for the foreseeable future?
That alone made whatever anger or fear you may have towards him worth it.
And, you know, they did say love blinds people. So maybe you were right about all that (Doubtful. He was smart. He was also right about all this).
But it didn't really matter. Not now, not when you were finally his.
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miraclewoozi · 1 year ago
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ELECTRIC. - y.jh
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your best friend is many things. smart, funny, empathetic, a complete and utter pain in your ass to name but a few. and on the evening of his twenty-eighth birthday, you discover something a little unexpected: jeonghan is very afraid of thunderstorms. 
pairing : jeonghan x fem reader. content : f2?. smut. fluff. a bit of angst. comfort. (MINORS DNI) w/c : 6.3k warnings : swearing. jeonghan has astraphobia / a fear of storms (for a brief period, he's a little fragile). intentional lowercase. smut tags utc. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. notes : happy birthday to this sweetest of sweethearts. i would chew my right arm off if he asked me to. (barely proofread. if you see a typo, no you didn't.<3)
smut tags : pussy drunk jeonghan (my beloved), no real power dynamics but jh is a cocky mf and a bit of a dick, panty sniffing hehe, fingering, oral sex (f rec), reader is turned on by the storm. they're very unserious about it.
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the lead actors meet in a kiss. the screen fades to black. so ends yet another round of your annual birthday movie nights.
jeonghan reaches for the remote and silences the end credit theme to the film you’ve just finished watching at the same time as you lift your head up off his shoulder, stretching high above your head and letting out perhaps the loudest yawn (-stroke-moan) of your life. your joints ache from too long spent in one, rather cramped, position, your eyes feel heavy in the late hour. the room falls almost silent around you both, save for the harsh splashing of rain against the windows. 
(this really doesn’t help the fact that you’re seconds away from falling asleep.)
“what did you think?” jeonghan asks, stretching his long legs out in front of him. 
“not my best pick,” you say, scrunching your nose a little. “not my worst, either.”
your best friend gives a short ‘ha’ of agreement, finally standing up off the couch. “couldn’t have said it better myself.” 
he gathers up the takeout boxes currently decorating his coffee table and grabs the now empty drinks glasses with his free hand, grunting softly as he stands fully upright again. you see him trying to roll out a kink in his neck and laugh from where you’re still settled comfortably in the couch cushions.
“you’re going stiff in your old age,” you tease him, grinning brightly. he fires a look at you that simultaneously dares you to keep going down this path, and yet also, tiredly agrees. “remind me to book you a good massage for your birthday next year.”
he grunts something that sounds suspiciously like an instruction to go fuck yourself as he takes his leave from the room, carrying everything that needs to be thrown away or washed up into the kitchen. you busy yourself on your phone while he’s gone, deciding to check in on your weather app. you quite like the rain and you’re really not that worried about driving home in it; you’re just curious how long it’s going to last for. 
in the delay of the app opening, a series of bright flashes bounce off every single wall in the living room. when you glance outside, the rain is falling harder than before; barely ten seconds later, a thunderclap roars through the ajar windows and you feel it all the way down into your tummy. 
you don’t have a chance to excitedly run across the room to get a look at the storm, though. a loud swear and the sound of crashing glass stings your eardrums before the rumble is even over. instead, you’re bolting through in the same direction jeonghan disappeared off in just moments ago, your heart having taken dangerous residence your stomach.
“what’s wrong?!” you ask as you skid around the corner in your socks, just managing to catch yourself from sliding straight into the wall at the end of the hallway. “i heard a—”
you freeze, then, falling silent. jeonghan is gripping onto the kitchen counter like his life depends on it with both shattered glasses laying at his feet; he looks like he’s seen a ghost, all white-knuckled and clammy and pale-lipped. it’s terrifying. 
“hey,” you say, slowly making your way into the room, mindful not to startle him and even more careful not to stand on one of the many shards on the laminate. “what happened? are you okay?”
he nods, weakly. swallows hard. blinks a few times, curls and uncurls his fingers, steps back from the counter. 
“yeah,” he breathes eventually, uncertain and still visibly shaken. he wipes his palms on his sweatpants and looks over at you, forcing a smile, but you’ve known him for entirely too long to be sold on this terrible performance. “i, uh-...”
but jeonghan stops short, shaking his head, running out of words to say. for a moment, you think maybe he’s about to apologise; that’s the shape his lips make, anyway. you cut in before he gets the chance.
“it’s okay,” you say, leaning one hip up against the counter. “go sit down, i’ll clear all this up. watch where you stand, though.”
“you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interject before he can even entertain the idea of cleaning the mess himself.
“i know i don’t, but i want to. go. i’ll only be a minute.”
begrudgingly, he agrees; you grab the broom from his kitchen cupboard and start slowly sweeping the broken glass into a dustpan while he carefully steps on the safe parts of the floor and makes his way back through to the living room. you make reasonably quick work of everything, emptying the fragments into the bin on top of the takeout boxes – all that’s left by the time you’re finished a couple of minutes later, is to try and figure out what caused all this in the first place.
jeonghan isn’t an easily shaken individual; you know this from years of experience. he seems to be able to catch you every time, without fail: whether he’s just popping out at you from behind a door and making you yelp, or he’s near-on giving you heart failure by texting you that something terrible has happened and that you need to come over, immediately, only for said ‘terrible’ thing to be that he got really comfy on the couch without making any popcorn. but regardless of all the numerous ways he manages to terrorise you, you’ve never, ever managed to do the same back to him. 
he’s always shrugged off your attempts, bragging that he just isn’t afraid of anything. so… you’re not really any closer to finding an answer at the time of going back through to the living room with your backpack slung over one shoulder.
“you wanna tell me what happened in there?” you ask, sitting down next to him on the couch. you’re sure his posture is supposed to be an attempt to convince you that he’s absolutely fine, now, but jeonghan looks stiff and is outright refusing to meet your eyes, despite your best attempts. again, unfortunately, you aren’t so easily fooled.
“i just came over dizzy,” he lies, doing his best to play it down. “maybe i stood up too fast and had a delayed reaction, i don’t know.”
“i’ve known corpses get up faster than you did, hannie,” you deadpan, laying one hand by his knee. “come on. that’s crap.”
he doesn’t quite jerk away from you, but you do feel his thigh muscles tense under your touch. you slide your palm down onto the couch between you instead in an effort to make him a tiny bit more comfortable. 
“it’s nothing,” he tries. “really. it’s–”
“jeonghan–”
“y/n.”
the room around you falls silent, both of your stubborn personalities at a stalemate. he won’t talk, and you won’t let him stay quiet. it’s been this way for years. since you were teenagers, even. you’d think he would have learned by now. (he hopes that you might have, too.)
but, there is a fact at play that makes you stop staring him down, and you relax your shoulders slightly as you sit forwards.
“i’m only letting this go because it’s your birthday,” you sigh, clasping your hands together. “if it was any other day of the week–”
“yeah, yeah. trust me. i know.”
there’s an edge to his voice that almost sounds like your jeonghan. like the teasing menace you know and adore. almost. it’s missing something. missing his usual spark.
“i swear to god, though, if i find out you’re sick and you’re not telling me,” you mutter under your breath. not quite under your breath enough, mind – he hears you perfectly, and you can see, out of the corner of his eye as you start to rummage through your backpack for your car keys, the way his ears prick up.
“don’t be stupid, i’m not sick,” he says. the truth in these words, specifically, is evident in the weight of his voice, in the way his fingers brush against the small of your back. “i swear.”
“pinky swear?” you ask, turning to look at him over one shoulder.
he holds out his little finger on his right hand for you, both eyebrows raised in a silent challenge. you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. saved for really important promises. when he does the same, you know you can believe him.
“okay,” you concede, going back to your search. “in that case – i think i’m gonna head on home before the roads get flooded.” you had to learn the hard way that the drains in this part of town aren’t known for their ability to handle much more than a middling rainfall.
somehow – always, somehow – buried at the very bottom of your backpack, you manage to find your keys and your hand curls around them as soon as you feel one of the rough edges against your fingertips. it’s barely been three seconds since your announcement, but jeonghan has managed to shuffle right into your personal bubble anyway and is now sitting with one arm pressed fully against your own.
“i don’t know if it’s safe to drive when it’s like this,” he says quietly. “it seems dangerous.”
“i think i’ll be okay if i leave, like, soon,” you try to reassure him. 
“you think,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes at you. 
“i’ve driven in so much worse, believe me,” you say. “don’t worry, i’ll be careful.”
“why don’t you just stay the night?” he offers. “you’re not working tomorrow, are you?”
“i’m not,” you confirm, and you do genuinely consider the offer for a moment before deciding to decline. “but i need a shower, and–”
jeonghan interrupts you, a little too quickly. “you can use my shower, i’ve got spare towels. i’ll sleep on the couch. don’t drive in this.”
“hannie, stop worrying,” you laugh, starting towards the door. “i promise, i’ll go slow and i’ll text you the second i’m home.”
“y/n,” he sighs, stepping towards you, jaw tense. “please. just this once.”
you swallow, looking all over his face, trying to figure out what train of thought the cogs behind his eyes are turning in tune with, why he’s so stressed about this. you’ve never known him behave like this sober. (you’ve only ever known him to be like this once, at all, and he tried to kiss you, then, so–)
“i really…” you start, only to be interrupted by another brilliant white flash. your eyes dart to the window just in time to see the lightning bolt through the clouds, and you feel your face noticeably soften in wonder. barely four seconds later – it’s getting closer – the loudest thunder clap you think you’ve heard in your life drowns out every thought you’ve ever had. 
every thought, except the sudden pressure of jeonghan’s fist around your forearm. every thought, except the stuttered gasp he lets slip. every thought, except the sudden fear in his too-wide-eyes.
oh, you think, realisation dawning on you as the blunt press of his nails grows just a fraction softer in time with the end of the rumble. that’s…
“it’s okay,” you say softly, taking a step closer to jeonghan and opening your arms for him to step into. “it’s okay. i’m here.”
he falls against you like an unsteady house of cards, his arms tight around your back and his head buried into the place in your shoulder where it fits the best. you’ve never seen him like this, and you’re not really sure what to do with yourself; he’s always been the sturdy one, between the two of you. he’s always been your rock. there’s a little bit of an irony in how he’s always been the one to help you weather the storm, but with the shoe on the other foot…
“how can i help you?” you ask, trailing your fingers up and down his back, not really sure that he can feel you through the thick material of his sweatshirt but you’re trying your best, anyway. 
he squeezes you tighter, buries his head further down into your shoulder, takes a few shaky breaths in through his mouth and screws his eyes shut a little more before he makes his request. 
“please stay with me.”
if your heart wasn’t aching for him before, it most certainly is now. you nod to the room at large, hoping jeonghan can feel the movement even a little. you don’t loosen your hold around him, though: you let your best friend cling to you for as long as his muscles will allow before they start to ache and he has to step away. 
“come with me,” you say once he’s finished running his fingers through his hair, trying to set it back to rights. “it’s okay.” you hold one of your hands out to him and he takes it, albeit apprehensively; giving his palm a squeeze with your own, you guide him through the apartment towards his bedroom.
“what are you–?” he asks, and despite his earlier hesitance to hold onto your hand, he doesn’t want to let go of you now you’ve reached your destination. he just stands next to you, fingers threaded through yours, looking at your face with tired eyes and a lifted brow. 
“grab your bedsheets,” you tell him, shaking your hand free. “and your pillows. we’re gonna make a fort.”
“a what?”
“a blanket fort,” you say. “to hide from the storm.”
he doesn’t say anything for a moment, and for a brief second, you think maybe the idea has offended him. his face hasn’t lifted into the smile you sort of expected it to; instead, he’s just staring down at his bed as if he’s trying to will himself out of existence.
“we don’t have to do all that,” he says. “it’s… that’s way too much?”
“it’s your birthday,” you counter. “and i want to make you a birthday fort. like we used to, when we were kids. it’ll be fun!”
he gives a little sigh, but it’s not one of sadness or exasperation with you. it’s defeat. except, you think if you could taste it, you’d be able to pick up a tiny lacing of sweetness in his exhale. 
“fine. you’re building it, though.”
you think it’s safe to say that perhaps, you’re a bit out of practice. you distinctly remember this being much easier when you were young: throwing bedsheets and blankets over the couch and propping them up with chairs or broomsticks. the forts that you would make as a child were, truly, a sight to behold: you used fairy-lights to decorate one, once, and it still remains one of your most prideful projects to date. the slight catastrophe that sits in jeonghan’s living room by the time you’ve finished laying out the last few pillows is… more a cave, in your opinion, and not a very pretty one, but you emerge from it smiling anyway and jeonghan looks at you so fondly that no matter how rubbish it is, it’s worth the half an hour you spent putting it together.
“what do you think?” you ask, sitting back on your heels.
“it’s not your best,” jeonghan teases as he walks towards your monstrosity masterpiece, critically eyeing the ‘roof’ that would definitely fail any kind of health and safety audit. “but it’s not your worst, either.”
a bright smile lights up your face as he drops down to his knees and crawls inside the space alongside you, letting the ‘door’ (a particularly thick blanket) fall down behind him. one of the (many, many, many, many, many) problems you encountered was trying to make one of these to fit two grown adults, but with him tucked away inside with you and a few flashlights to prevent you from being plunged into darkness… ignoring the potential for it all to come collapsing in on you at any given time, it’s surprisingly comfortable. 
you lay back against the pillows first and jeonghan follows soon after, a weirdly gleeful smile playing at his lips as he does. he curls into your side and you talk, and talk, and talk. about everything. about nothing. it doesn’t really matter.
you’re not quite sure why, but the deep roars of the storm outside don’t seem to bother jeonghan quite as much in here. maybe it’s because he’s not alone, and there’s no imminent threat for him to be: maybe your company really is making a difference. he still reaches for you every time there’s a particularly loud clap, still closes his eyes and takes a series of deep breaths until his stress passes, but for whatever reason, he feels significantly less tense.
and when, after the third boom, he decides just… not to let go of your hand? who are you to try and force him?
there’s… just one problem, though. you’re ecstatic that the storm isn’t bothering jeonghan as much, now. that he can talk absolute nonsense to you in your private little hideaway, that he can lean his head against your shoulder and chuckle at your bad jokes and even crack a few of his own. genuinely, you could not be happier. for him.
but there was more reason than wanting to sleep in your own bed that had you desperately trying to get home before you realised the gravity of your best friend’s situation. 
with every new growl of thunder outside, something low in your stomach twists, accompanied by an ache, a warmth, a throbbing between your thighs. at first, it was easy enough to battle through. you kept telling yourself that the thunder never lasts too long, that you could get through this without jeonghan being any the wiser, that everything was going to be fine. but now, almost an hour later, the buzz of electricity in the atmosphere and the entirely-too-addicting scent of your best friend’s fabric softener has you feeling hot enough you could faint.
you twist and shuffle over and over, hoping to find a position that eases the throbbing. it’s fine, you think, taking a deep breath and praying to every deity you can recall by name that jeonghan doesn’t notice your discomfort. i can do this. it’s fine. just a little while longer.
a spectacular boom sounds through the apartment and jeonghan’s fingers tighten around yours so much that, against all your better judgement, you let out a loud gasp. not out of pain, though – no, you wish. if only it was that easy. ha. no – as he squeezes your hand, images flash through your mind of him being the one to relieve you of the tension building up beneath your skin. of him gripping and grasping and tugging, thrusting, tasting, adoring. your throat runs dry and you squeeze your thighs together desperately, pinching your lips tight, willing your pounding heart to calm the fuck down. willing your cunt to stop drooling into your panties.
“fuck,” you breathe when he finally lets go. you feel him shuffle at your side and prop himself up on one elbow, looking down at your face with mild terror written into the lines of his own.
“i’m so sorry – did that hurt?” he asks, searching your eyes for any kind of clue. you wish he wouldn’t. surely, you think, pressing your tongue harshly against the roof of your mouth, surely my pupils are blown to oblivion, right now.
you shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak.
“are you sure?” he asks, slowly running his fingers down your arm, moving to take hold of your hand again if you’ll let him. you flinch, the drag of his nails akin to an electric shock – like being struck by lightning, you tell yourself – and he snaps his hand back straight away. “what’s wrong?”
“nothing,” you hurry, pushing yourself up to sit (almost head-butting him in the process) and groaning at the way the seam on your jeans rubs against your clit. who wears fucking jeans to a movie night? what absolute moron–
“do you feel okay?” jeonghan questions, sitting fully upright now too. “do you think it was the foo–”
“oh my god, please,” you whimper, bowing your head, letting your hair fall around your face, shielding you from him. just a little. not quite enough. “please. i’m fine. stop asking. i’m fine.”
“said everyone, ever, who was in fact – not fine,” jeonghan quips. “do you need water? i can help, just talk to me–”
“jeonghan,” you snap, whipping your head back up. your face feels hot and you don’t know if you’ve ever felt this tense before in all your years on this earth. all your muscles are tweaking in anticipation for something that most certainly is not going to happen, and you really need him to stop talking in that deep, smooth, caring voice. with immediate effect. for the love of god – 
…and heaven above, the penny drops. 
jeonghan’s concerned expression turns to one of complete shock and you cover your face with both hands, trying so desperately hard not to be perceived by him in this most humiliating of moments. he doesn’t say anything for a second, and you tell yourself that he’s probably trying to find either a terrible joke to ease the tension or a way to tell you to go home. you don’t know which would be worse, but it’s only a matter of time until you find out.
therefore, you definitely don’t expect him to pry your hands away from your cheeks, and for his shit-eating, impishly charming, handsome-as-fuck grin to be the first thing your eyes land on when you open them.
“really? thunderstorms?” he asks, close enough that you feel the breaths that his words don’t quite steal. “that’s your kink?”
“it’s not a kink,” you whine, throwing your hands down either side of you. he doesn’t release his hold on your wrist, though. “come on, don’t be–”
“of all the things you could be into,” he says. oh, he’s back. he’s back with a vengeance. you suppose, really, you should be glad that he’s feeling more like his usual self, but the fact that it’s at your expense? that there’s no-one else around for him to turn on instead? that this is your topic of conversation at ten past midnight on his living room floor?
“hannie, please,” you huff, lips drawing downwards into a frowning pout. the ache isn’t going away. why isn’t it going away? why is this cocky, smirking version of your best friend making you feel even hotter under the collar? what’s going on? “don’t you think i’ve suffered enough?”
“not even nearly,” he says, sitting up on his knees, resting his palms on his thighs. “since when? how did you even fig–”
boom.
and his jaw falls slack, watching you squirm.
you’re quite literally fighting for your life. or, at minimum, for your friendship. because, really, you could jump jeonghan’s bones right now and you don’t actually think he’d turn you down (something to be filed under: thoughts that are not making this any easier). but that’s not what you’re trying to do; you’re trying to help him feel better, and take his mind off his fear, and when he pulls his bottom lip between his bottom teeth before speaking –
“okay, wait. hear me out.”
to both of your surprises, you do. you don’t try and protest, which he was sort of expecting you to do. you don’t tell him to shut up, you don’t try and get away from him. you sit there, eyes wide, hands curling into the blankets beneath your slowly numbing ass, and you wait for him to continue.
“i can help you.”
your heart shoots up into your throat and you struggle to swallow around it. your breaths are heavy, laboured, your lips parted and a little swollen from how you’ve been biting at them for the past hour and a bit.
“you don’t have to–”
“shut up, y/n,” he says dismissively, crawling in front of you and lifting your hands away from the bedding you’re kneading (pathetically, in his professional opinion) like a cat. “listen. you’ve helped me so much tonight, you don’t even know. let me return the favour.”
“hannie…”
“hannie,” he whines, in a poor imitation of your voice. “hannie, i only helped you because you needed me– is that it? look at you, y/n. you’re a mess.”
if this were anyone else, you’d be livid. not only at the way he so effortlessly makes fun of you, but at the fact that he accurately finished your sentence without having anything more than an affectionate nickname to work from as a hint. you don’t know what to say, suddenly stunned into silence, but it’s all right. you don’t need to say anything; he keeps going.
“you need me. let me help you – look. it’s my birthday.”
he wants this, you think to yourself, growing slightly concerned by the way your heart continues to hammer in your throat. he wants… me.
you give one slow, but definite, nod of your head and jeonghan’s grin grows from cocky to genuine. he crawls until he’s right up in your space, lifting a hand to your cheek, and you forget how to breathe for a moment as he looks you in the eyes with more heat than the mid-august sun.
“lie down,” he says, pushing that last little bit closer and capturing your lips in a kiss. it’s short, but mind-boggling. your brain goes totally blank when he pulls away. “it’s okay. i’ve got you.”
but you do as he says and shuffle around the little fort so you’re on your back, head resting against one of the many pillows you’re grateful you brought in here with you. he crawls on top of you, then, caging you in with one hand either side of your head, settling with one of his knees slotted between your just-parted thighs. 
“okay?” he asks, searching your face for any signs of discomfort or worry. he doesn’t find any, though – he’s met only with a perhaps too enthusiastic nod and your hands playing at the hem of his sweatshirt. he chuckles, bending down to kiss you again, a little deeper this time, a little longer. open-mouthed and hot, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, dropping onto one elbow so his torso lies almost flush against yours. 
“easy, tiger. taking care of you, right now.”
you sigh as his lips start to descend down the column of your throat, and you press your shoulders back into the blankets to try and push that little bit closer to him. one of his hands slips beneath your own shirt and his palm comes to rest flush against your hip, dragging his thumb in small circles over your skin. 
“this,” he mumbles into your collarbone, tugging the neckline of the garment between his teeth for a moment so you know what he’s referring to. “off.”
“bossy,” you mumble, your body cold all of a sudden as he sits back away from you and you tug your t-shirt off over your head. as you do, he reaches behind his neck and tugs off his sweatshirt as well before he tosses it up near your head, out of the way.
now, this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever been around jeonghan without anything covering his top half, but it is something that you rarely get the chance to see. if it’s not the fact that he’s chronically freezing cold, it’s because he’s grown emotionally attached to some of the baggiest tops known to mankind, or he’s worried about getting a sunburn so is still covered up at the beach. for one reason or another, this just isn’t something you’re blessed to see very often, and he looks so good you almost forget that it’s him.
of course, that only lasts until he says something really fucking dumb. in other words, all of about three seconds.
“how… practical,” he says, eyes trained down on the bra covering your tits. in a way, it’s probably a good thing you’ve snapped back to your senses, because you once again find yourself thinking that if this were anyone else, you’d have told them to get off you and never call you again.
but why is jeonghan, of all people, criticising your choice of comfy underwear… weirdly endearing?
“sorry,” you grunt, making no effort to hide the (flesh-toned, full-coverage, entirely too old) bra that he’s looking at like it’s personally offending him. “didn’t expect to need to impress, tonight.”
“don’t be sorry,” jeonghan says, shaking his head as he unpops the button on your jeans and tugs them down over your hips. “just… do better next time, yeah?”
you laugh so suddenly, so abruptly, so loudly that you choke on your own spit and end up coughing a little, propping up on one elbow to try and relieve the burn in your lungs as he continues to work your pants off your legs. by the time he scrunches them into a ball and puts them to the side, too, you’ve managed to catch your breath, and gasp out, “next time?”
“next time,” he nods, making himself comfortable between your thighs. he lays one palm on the inside of each knee, pushing them as far apart as your hips will allow, before he brings one hand over your covered cunt and drags his thumb up and down your slit.
you don’t even get a chance to ask why he’s so sure there’ll be a next time. he skillfully works you through the material and in seconds, has you tipping your head back into the pillows, moaning at the overwhelming feeling of finally being touched.
“so fucking wet,” he sighs, feeling your arousal through the cotton of your underwear, pressing the material between your folds. his thumb circles your clit over and over, the pressure just right – not so light that he’s teasing, not so hard that you’re squirming away from him. hell, if you knew he was this good, you’d have dragged him into bed years ago.
“come on, hannie,” you gulp as he starts to work his thumb faster, starts to massage at your inner thigh with his other hand. “need more…”
well, he doesn’t need to be told twice. you lift your hips and he tugs your panties down your thighs, unhooking them from around your ankles. you expect him to, you know, return to business, but he does something just a little bit unhinged first and brings your soaked underwear up to his face. you hear how deeply, how loudly he inhales, the subsequent groan he gives even louder, and you swear the reason you end up bumping his hip with your knee is to bring him back to earth, because it actually feels like he’s forgotten you’re lying right there.
“i’ll do it myself, in a minute,” you threaten, and jeonghan grins wickedly down at you as he lowers your panties down to join the rest of your discarded clothes. 
“no you won’t,” he tells you – he tells you? – , finally now lying down between your legs, just inches away from your glistening cunt. “god – as if i’d ever let that happen.”
“i swear– ” you start, half a second before one of his fingers presses against your hole. you stop talking with a gasp, a hand flying to your chest and squeezing against your tit. just like that. in a heartbeat, you’re done for. 
he seems intent on gathering as much of your arousal on his fingertip as he possibly can, running it through your folds, pressing it inside you, smearing your slick all over and then some like a fucked-up painting. only once he’s satisfied does he finally start to work his finger in and out, pressing his lips just above where your clit is begging for his attention.
“don’t play stupid,” you chide him when he looks up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and feigning innocence. “if you can find it through my underwear, you can find it now.”
“bossy,” jeonghan tuts. “what’s with the rush, huh?” 
and he adds another finger to the first, both long and elegant and reaching spots inside you that your own physically can’t. you keen against your will, hips reacting of their own accord, trying to fuck your pussy down against his hand. he makes no effort to stop you.
“m’not gonna beg,” you tell him. “just – fuck, get your mouth on me. now.”
to his credit, he does.
and more to his credit, being eaten out has never, ever felt this good.
the hand not grasping at your chest shoots down to tangle in his long, silky hair, and jeonghan moans loudly against your pussy as he laves his tongue everywhere he can. over your clit, between your folds, slipping it inside your hole in place of his fingers – he’s relentless, slurping and groaning and finding some sort of insane stamina from somewhere deep in his soul. you swear to god, this is not the man who sometimes falls asleep with his light on because he doesn’t have the energy to get up and turn them off.
within a matter of minutes, you can feel the coil in the pit of your stomach growing tighter and tighter, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your moans and whines only getting louder by the minute. your legs are shaking. your thoughts are little more than static, and him. at some point – you don’t know when –, jeonghan reached around your hips to pull your thighs together and clamped them around his ears, mumbling against your clit something to the effect of to help with the thunder. (you don’t mention that there hasn’t actually been another thunder crack since he started making out with your pussy. it doesn’t feel relevant, somehow.)
every time you tighten your thighs, every time you squirm, he hugs you tighter against his cheeks and you just end up humping against his tongue. something tells you maybe that was the plan all along? 
sparks of energy start to prickle all over your skin as you teeter on the edge of your high. your fist tightens in jeonghan’s hair, your breaths become fewer and further between. it’s frankly a bit of a miracle you’ve even managed to last this long – you held back as long as you could, determined to milk as much of the pleasure his hands and his mouth so skillfully bring as you can. just in case there’s no next time, but… hell, do you hope there is.
“hannie, i’m–” you gasp, his fingers curling upwards again and resuming their earlier assault on your g-spot. “fuck, hannie, i’m so close–”
“mm, have been for a while, huh?” he asks, drawing his mouth away from you, licking his tongue over his arousal-slickened lips. “you’ve been holding out on me.”
“yeah, but-... i wanna come so bad,” you swallow. jeonghan flicks his tongue out over your clit again and you jolt up into the touch. “please, don’t stop.”
“won’t,” he promises. and it’s the last thing he says before his lips meet your pussy again and he brings you over the edge into the most electrifying of climaxes.
by the time you’ve stopped twitching with the aftershocks of your orgasm, jeonghan is sat up on his knees again, softly massaging at your hips with his thumbs. your vision is still kind of fuzzy at the edges when you glance up at him, and for a moment, with a hazy outline and an amber glow behind him owed to the flashlight you set at the entrance to the fort, you think he looks a little too much like an angel.
“where the hell did that come from?” you ask him, fighting against the squirming in your belly. fighting against the sensation that feels a little too much like butterflies. 
“really?” he asks in a breathy laugh. “that’s-... i mean, do you actually want to know, or…?”
you mull this over for a moment before crossing your arms over your eyes and concealing yourself from his view, shaking your head. one part of you is morbidly curious as to how he got so good at giving head. the other part of you is too busy trying to gather the brain cells he just sent flying across about eight different dimensions.
“i think you’ve broken me, jeonghan,” you breathe, feeling more than seeing him lie down next to you again. his lips press sweetly against the curve of your shoulder. warmth radiates from that one spot, all over your body. you smile, like a complete loser. 
what’s worse is that you really don’t mind.
“is that a yes, then?” he asks, slinging an arm over your waist. you turn your head to look at him, eyes crossing a little with how unexpectedly close he is. 
“yes to what?” 
“to next time,” he says. his grin matches yours and you nod your head at him, yes. in your peripheral vision, you notice how he lifts one hand, extends his little finger. straight in front of you, you see both of his eyebrows raise.
you pinch your lips tight before hooking your own pinky through his, leaning in and pressing a short kiss to the pad of your thumb. the way you used to when you were kids. ‘you really can’t break those.’ he used to say. ‘they’re like, triple the strength’. 
saved for really important promises.
“to next time.”
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thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.&lt;3
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kaneaken · 8 months ago
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Is this... Delusion?
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author's note; just a few short scenarios that I've been through which really make me question everything. I have so many of these, but I think there was only one guy that was actually serious (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)
content notes; gn!reader (pronouns not used/mentioned), modern au because some of these scenarios don't make sense in the original universe
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♡ You think you've seen Blade for the fiftieth time this week. You understand the campus you both go to isn't very large, but you have definitely seen him more than any other student. He doesn't pause to speak to you, he just gives you a small glance, which feels more like a glare if anything. You bring it up to Fu Xuan in passing to which she responds:
"I find it strange.. his department is farther than yours. There would be no reason to pass through if he wanted to take the most efficient route."
♡ You notice there is always an empty space next to Alhaitham, no matter where he is. At first, you felt bad that no one sat next to him, so you decided to take the seat next to him. You introduce yourself to which he does the same. Although, he isn't much of a talker, he doesn't seem to mind your constant ramblings. One day, you walk up to him and find Kaveh sitting next to him. Once he notices your approach, he sends Kaveh a subtle look as if to say move it. Kaveh shoots him a glare before getting up with a grumble.
♡ You weren't poor, but you weren't exactly rich either. Aventurine, however, was. He wasn't one to particularly flaunt his wealth, but somehow you had a constant reminder of it.
"My rings? Do you like them? I could buy one for you. It's not an issue. Think of it as a gift for helping me with my homework last week."
"It's your birthday, right? I got you something. It's not much, but-- it's expensive? Oh, no, no, I only spent a little more this year. How much more...? Let's just celebrate, alright?"
"Are you hungry? You don't have enough for a snack? That's alright. What do you want and don't just pick the cheapest thing, okay?"
Seems the more you deny him, the more persistent he gets.
♡ You always spot Kaveh with a pen in his hand. He tends to spin it around, balance it on a finger, and throw it at Alhaitham (the usual). You even find him doodling on his hand at times. You always compliment him on the little doodles and he always chuckles in response. At times, he ends up filling his hand with doodles and running out of blank space, so he turns to you with a smile. You don't deny his silent request (you had been meaning to ask him if he would draw you a little doodle). You extend your hand to him and let him work his magic. Depending on his mood, he could draw whatever. Sometimes it's a horrible sketch of Alhaitham while he grumbles about how Alhaitham finished the coffee that morning. Other times it's a beautiful flower which you wish you didn't have to clean off your hand. One time he drew a cluster of hearts which matched the ones on his hands.
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yooglefics · 4 months ago
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hii! its been a few days since i found u and i love ur writing and stories!! could i request a fic where yoongi and (possibly) female reader have a fight over jealousy (its either her or him or both even idk) and its a little angsty idk but then they make up and its all fluffy 🤓🤓 thank u in advance luv
Hellooo. Thank you so much for your kind words and for requesting this! I really enjoyed writing this pair and some angst, I did a hint of both being jealousy, but is mostly him haha. Sorry it took me a while to finally post it, but I wanted it to be good, and I hope you like it!
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Jealous, jealousy
Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,467 words Genre: AU. Established relationship. Angst and comfort / fluff.  Summary: Jealousy has never been a problem in your relationship, not until a comment can't leave Yoongi's mind and interactions at your office’s party just make it worse. Content warnings under read more.
Includes: Jealous Yoongi. People thinking there's something between Jin and Reader… even Yoongi. Miscommunication. They argue. And then they're cute.
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It all starts with the perilla leave question between Yoongi's friends one night out and a few rounds of soju in. As a self-identified non-jealous person, his answer was that it didn't mean anything, and even told the story about how it happened a few days ago when your coworker joined you two for lunch.
Jungkook, the non-identified most jealous person of the group, had obviously called him stupid. Questioned him about that guy and told him to be careful. “If I were you, Yoongi, I'd keep my eye on him.”
Little rascal; didn't even bother to use honorifics with him anymore.
But the worst thing is that the idea is now on his head and not even Yoongi knows how bad it is about to get as he steps into your office party a few weeks later. Now having the opportunity to see his girlfriend and her favorite coworker interact more in a familiar environment.
Even the ones who don't know Yoongi a lot, know he can be pretty reserved around new people, that's why you continue to make your polite round of interactions after saying hi and leaving him at a table with a whiskey and snacks. Promising to come back as soon as possible.
He looks at you across the room, all professional and sweet, the queen of small talk and polite smiles, and one forms on his own lips without realizing. Only doing so when it's erased as someone greets him, sitting down beside him and he tries to follow your steps at looking, at least, a bit cordial. 
“I don't think I've seen you before. Are you here with ( y / n ) or Seokjin?”
“Yes, with ( y / n ).”
“Really?” She sounds genuinely surprised, “I didn't know she was inviting someone.” 
“Well, I like supporting her, don't really need the invitation” he chuckles a bit awkwardly, “I'm her boyfriend.”
“Oh, so she is dating someone?” Again, the surprise in her tone makes Yoongi believe is a true emotion, and that confuses him.
“For a few years now, yes.”
“And here I was thinking that those two were going to be the next office romance,” she says sounding disappointed before realizing, “oh my— not that it's bad they don't, just… they are both attractive and you know…”
«Is that supposed to make it better?», he wants to ask, but instead he laughs, trying to dismiss everything as her hand lays on his forearm that is resting on the table, trying to reassure him as she goes on about him being handsome too and whatnot.
He stopped listening now. Because after that interaction, one hour seems long enough when half of that you have spent besides that guy, and Jungkook's words keep growing in his head as if he were watering them with the sweet alcohol. The one he has to switch hands to sip from now, because your coworker keeps the other prisoner of her hand. 
Not even the excuse ( that is actually not really an excuse because he needs it ) to get a refill works and she only stops rambling his ear off when someone arrives at the place and she finally leaves the table to greet them.
“I saw you made a friend,” your sweet smile is almost enough to make him forget his thoughts when he is joined by you at the bar while ordering another whiskey.
“Well, figure I should while you had fun with yours.” he shrugs in an effort to dismiss negative feelings.
“Wait, did you actually make friends with her?” is your turn to sound surprised, corners of your mouth falling a little.
“Is a problem if I did?”
“I… I mean, I was joking but I don't like her very much. You can make friends with other people, though.”
“Ah, thanks for the clear up.” He walks back to the table to sit down, and even he can acknowledge it was a weird response, so, your next question doesn’t shock him.
“Are you okay?”
“What if I made friends with your best friend, what's his name?” he asks instead. Comments from others blurring his psyche, making him act without much thinking.
“Jin?”
“Is that his name? She called him Seokjin”
“Well, Seokjin, Jin for short. What's the big deal?”
“Nothing. Just… that's what she said when she asked who I was here with,” he explains before taking a sip.
“Of course she asked you that,” and eye roll accompanies your words. 
“Yeah, because apparently you didn't say you invited your boyfriend.” but he thinks there is more important matters than you not liking your coworker. “As a matter of fact she didn't know you had a boyfriend.”
“Because is none of her business. She doesn't need to know about my relationship.”
“She does when she is talking about you and Seokjin having a romance.”
“What?!”
“Sorry. You and Jin.”
“Shut up, you know that's not what I meant. Can't believe she said that.” You steal a sip from his whiskey before continuing, “No actually, I can.”
He buffs. “You can?”
“Yeah, I told you, she is… not likable.”
“Just that? Not because it would be believable for you two to be together?” He asks, his annoyance clearer as seconds go by.
“Jin and I? Please, that's ridiculous.”
“Okay.”
“Why? Are you jealous?” You inquire, playfully. As if it would be impossible to be true.
“Yes.”
“Wait. Really?! But you have never been jealous.”
“Maybe I am now.” 
“Because of Jin?” you’re confused at how serious he is being, but before you can question more about it, you’re interrupted by said guy.
“Oh, I was summoned. Hi.” he greets your partner, so casually since he doesn’t realize Yoongi is mad with him too. “Can you come back? I don't want to interact with those people alone.”
You look at your co-worker and friend for a few seconds, and then to your boyfriend, trying to understand what is happening and if he is actually jealous. Him, Min Yoongi, the less jealous person you’ve ever met.
“Go, have fun.” Your boyfriend encourages you, managing a smile that only confuses you more because is clear to you that it’s not genuine.
What the hell is happening?
You’re surrounded with interactions the rest of the night, from your co-workers to their partners, people seem interested in Jin and you, after all, it’s the first big party since the both of you joined the company. Even when you go back to sit with Yoongi people get close to make conversation, one person actually asks about wedding planing and tells you she can get you in contact with someone. You know she means well so, with your best smile, you thank her and change the subject.
You hate those conversations. 
Having spent your childhood between your parents’ fights because «staying together for their kids» was a priority, when in reality it only made it worse for everyone involved, you grew up hating the idea of getting married. You understand it is for love, but you don't need a paper or a big party to announce that you love Yoongi. You don't need a ring on your finger to promise you'll do it forever. You don't need him to propose, let alone ask your parents permission to do so. 
Is your life, your decisions. The only opinion that matters other than yours is Yoongi's and he has always understood, never pressured you. He is the love of your life, after all.
In the car on the way home, the silence is filled with music from the stereo and you try to take Yoongi’s hand on the gear lever as always, but only a couple of seconds pass before he pulls away, both hands on the wheel now. 
Trying to figure out if it was on purpose, you ask, “What are you thinking about?” 
“You spend a lot of time with him,” he says without a beat.
“You told me to go.”
“I mean in general.”
“We work together, can't really do much about that.”
“You weren't working tonight and still it was like you were joined at the hip.” he hasn’t looked at you and you can’t decide if it hurts or bothers you more.
“Again, you told me to go at the end,” you argue. “ If you wanted me to stay with you, you could have said so.”
“Now I have to ask you to spend time with me?”
“Well, I can’t read your mind, honey.” you poke his cheek, softly. An attempt to lighten the mood a little.
“That’s not the point.” His tone is just as serious. And then you know that, whatever this is, it’s deeper than you thought.
“What is it then?” you genuinely ask, annoyance starting to build up inside you, but trying to stay calm. Surely he can tell, you think. “You’re clearly upset, but why?”
“Shouldn't I be? When my girlfriend keeps hanging out with this good-looking dude and everyone thinks they could be a thing?” 
“Really?” How can he even entertain those thoughts? You with another man? Doesn’t he hear how ridiculous it sounds? “Shouldn't I be upset because you let her touch your arm for like five minutes straight?”
“She was trying to console me.”
“Yeah, that actually makes it worse, Yoongi.” 
“Yoongi?” 
“That's your name.” He finally looks your way, but you’re looking at the road ahead of you and he can’t tell it is just in order to calm down.
“Wait. Why are you turning things on me?”
“Because you're being irrational and I'm not having this conversation.”
Once again the music is the only sound filling the air, and you opt for folding your arms in front of your chest to stop you from reaching for his hand again.
Now both of you are mad. Great. 
Arriving home, he still gets out of the car first to open the door for you, and it helps soften the heartache a little. But still, the night repeats in your head, trying to understand what happened. 
Why suddenly spending time with Jin is a problem? Why is Yoongi so jealous about it? And why—
“You let her touch you after she said Jin and I had a thing?” you ask as both of you are finally in the bedroom, getting ready to end the night. 
“Thought we weren't having this conversation.”
“No. This one is different. This one is about you potentially doing things because you were upset with me.”
“That would be stupid.” He stops his movements, shirt unbuttoned just halfway through. “Why would I do that?”
“I don't know, you aren't exactly acting like yourself tonight.”
“Because I'm jealous?”
“Because we are fighting about you being jealous.” And trying to calm down once again, you continue taking your dress off, struggling with the zipper but too proud to ask him for help right now.
“Okay, let's not fight, then.” He sits down on his side of the bed. “Just answer this question: do you like him?” 
“Yoongi—” 
“Just answer. Please.” when you finally turn to him, the look on his face is different from what you expected. He doesn't seem angry, but hurt. Like your answer could break him.
“Of course not. Not like that.” You emphasize. Giving up on your clothes and kneeling in front of him, taking a breath before continuing. “You know we started at the same time and he is always nice and fun, I think he is my only friend at work because everyone else keeps asking me when I'm going to get married and leave. Like your friend.”
“What?”
“The lady you were talking to. Is always asking personal questions and I don't like it. Not because I don't like talking about you, I love you and I talk with Jin about you all the time, but is just…”
“Not her business. And you don't have to explain yourself to others.” he completes. Yoongi is the first to always remind you that after all.
“Exactly.” 
“Sorry.” he is quick to say, feeling like an asshole now, a hand running through his hair, messing it up, “I really don’t know what is up with me tonight, I’m sorry.”
“Were you actually jealous of Jin?” the disbelief in your voice is funny now, and he nods with a chuckle. “That’s surprising coming from you.”
“I know. Is dumb.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” you move closer to him, hands on his shoulders to make him look at you, “your feelings are not dumb, Yoongi.”
“Can you stop calling me by my name tonight?”
“Sorry,” both of you laugh softly, “but I mean it. Even if it’s irrational to be jealous of anyone because I love you so very much and wouldn’t even dream to be with someone else; your feelings are important, honey. Just… you know, we have to work on a better way of expressing them.”
He chuckles again, still feeling bad about it all but appreciating the reassurance. “I will, promise. I just never felt like this before, is… weird.”
Yoongi has always thought jealousy is stupid. He understands feeling insecure and all that, but acting like he did tonight has always been something he didn’t understand. Something he judged. He thought it was about bad communication, distrusting your partner, and things like that. And, if you don’t trust the person you love, does it make sense to be together? But maybe is not as simple as that.
He didn't care if you had your own friends and went out with them, like some of the people he knows do. He has his own opinion on marriage and engagement rings. But maybe he cares in other ways. Maybe he cares about people thinking you're with someone else because that's probably his biggest fear.
“I don’t like jealousy.” he speaks again, bringing his arms around your waist, hugging you close and resting his head against your torso.
“Good, that means you are not toxic.” A pause while your hand combs through his hair, putting black strains back in place, “and now you know how I feel when people hit on you.”
“People don’t do that.” 
“They do,” he looks up at you, but before he can argue anything, you cup his face and bend a little to peck his lips, softly. “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with her and without a warning.”
“I tried to get away but she wouldn't let go of my arm and I didn't want to be rude.” 
His bottom lip sticks out in a small pout and you kiss it away, “Yoonie, sometimes you’re too nice for your own good.”
“Maybe I should be just nice to you.”
“You're too nice for that,” he rolls his eyes, making you laugh even more, “that's why I love you.”
“I love you more, baby.”
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joeys-babe · 10 months ago
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Joey B Imagines: A Day In The Life
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Summary: You do a mini TikTok vlog of a day in the life with your boys while pregnant. (Pregnancy announcement to the public!)
Warnings: Fluff
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic
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January 10, 2024
After posting some more pranks I've done on Joe, surprisingly, my following on TikTok has grown significantly.
Usually, posting Joe on my socials garnered negative attention, AKA hate. I did it because social media apps were meant to share your life, and Joe was a huge part of my life.
I never meant it in a braggadocios way, but that's what people seemed to take from my family photos and post-win pics with my husband.
That's why I was so surprised to see that everyone loved my Joe pranks.
The comments held a consensus that I’d never seen under a post of mine, they loved Joe and I’s dynamic.
I didn't need the public fan validation to make me feel secure in my relationship with Joe, but for once, they understood how special our relationship was, and some even apologized for past statements.
“They love us, Joe.” - you
“No, honey, they love you.” - Joe smiled
After those words were shared, Joe pointed out how all the comments were mostly praising me.
“take back everything I said abt her.”
“stop she matches joe’s energy so well…”
“the way he can’t stay mad at her, they’re so in love”
“actually such a cute couple”
“they compliment each other so well!”
“i see why joe married her! 🥹”
“i want y/n to be MY mom.”
“who gave y/n the right to be so adorable.”
“she’s so fun!”
“the way joe looks at her.. 😭”
“still jealous, but he loves her sm.”
“MY PARENTS.”
“i bet y/n’s the best mom and wife”
“Everyone’s switching sides now, but they never deserved hate. Joe wouldn't marry her if he didn't love her, and I'm glad that you guys can see that now. She makes him really happy!!”
“See? Some are even requesting more videos, baby. Do you see how many new followers you've gotten?” - Joe
“It's just because I posted content of you…” - you
“No, don't say that. It's because you showed your personality, and they love you. They see why I love you.” - Joe
“Do you really think so?” - you
“I know so. Everyone thinks your pranks are hilarious, you're funny, and you handle me super well.” - Joe
“I do handle you super well.” - you laughed
“The best.” - Joe winked
——
That was two days ago, right after we put the twins to sleep and right before we went to bed ourselves.
Currently being nine in the morning, I just woke up.
It was off-season now, but that still meant early mornings.
This morning was a little different, though, because I was making a ‘day in the life’ TikTok.
Since my pranks had become a hit, I've gotten quite a few video ideas from fans in the comments. Most wanted to see more of our everyday lives and wanted to know what it was like as an NFL wife and mother.
So, I decided to do a short video to show what our family day routine was like on an average off-season day.
The thing is… Joe didn't know it was happening.
Joe loved that I was finally being seen the way he saw me but was still weary of what I was posting.
He wasn't a huge fan of social media, and being super public with our relationship and kids, he detested it.
I respected it, but sometimes Joe would ask to participate in a video unprompted.
Lately, that has become a bigger case, so I was hoping he wouldn't mind taking part in the mini-vlog.
Joe was still asleep when I got out of bed, so I discreetly walked into the bathroom after grabbing my phone.
I wouldn't be talking in the video, just showcasing the sounds of the background and whatever I was doing, while the text that I would put over it later would describe what was going on.
After making little clips of me brushing my teeth, washing my face, and brushing my hair out, I walked back into the bedroom.
Next, I recorded a little snippet of me picking out my outfit - leggings and one of Joe’s hoodies - before turning my phone off to get changed.
Now that I was ready, I headed downstairs to start breakfast.
I pulled ingredients out of the fridge for Joe’s smoothie, omelets for me and me, and some of the ingredients for the boy's pancakes.
Just as I was starting the blender, a sleepy-looking Joe with raging bedhead shuffled into the kitchen.
“G’morning.” - you grinned
Thankfully, he put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I was glad of that because he'd complain about being shirtless on camera.
“Hi.” - Joe mumbled
“You good, buddy?” - you laughed
“Mhm. I just don't like waking up to see that you're not next to me.” - Joe
“Awe, I'm sorry. C’mere.” - you
I opened my arms to Joe, and he immediately was in my embrace. My arms were around his waist as I squeezed him, and his head lay on my shoulder.
When he pulled away from me, Joe’s eyes landed on the recording camera and immediately went wide-eyed.
“Why are you recording?” - Joe
“I'm making a ‘day in the life' video. I won't put anything in it that you aren't comfortable with, like what just happened.” - you
“Oh… ok. Yeah, don't put that in, though, because I sound like a baby.” - Joe
His grimace made me laugh because I thought our interaction was cute. Then again, I loved Joe’s needy, soft side. It was purely adorable.
“My baby.” - you grinned
“Stop…” - Joe
Joe was trying to hide his smile as his cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't help but giggle. I loved knowing I could make him blush, even after all the years we've been together.
“Do you need help recording anything?” - Joe
“Not at the moment, but if I do, I'll ask you.” - you
“Okay. Want me to make the pancakes?” - Joe
“Sure! Can I get a clip of you flipping them?” - you
“Of course.” - Joe smiled
Shortly after that, Joe got started on the pancakes, and I recorded a little video to get audio of the sizzling from the hot pan.
When I got a short clip of Joe flipping a mini pancake, I didn't put his face in it, but you could very clearly see it was him. His easily recognized bracelets and hands gave that away, along with the laugh the speaker picked up when he executed the flip perfectly.
“I should be a pro cook.” - Joe
“We both know that shouldn't happen.” - you
Joe busted out laughing and told me to put that in the mini-vlog.
“Will do.” - you giggled
——
Later in the day, I had gotten most of the wanted content filmed, including waking the boys up, breakfast, and playing/cleaning around the house.
Now, Joe, Me, and the boys were on our way to the reason for the entire video.
AKA the ultrasound that I'm having today.
It was a hard launch of my pregnancy, but Joe and I thought we'd include it in the video since my maternity photoshoot wasn't for a couple more weeks. The reason we were announcing it before the shoot was because it was getting hard to hide my growing bump. We’d much rather announce it ourselves than someone screenshot a picture of me in the background with a round belly.
When we got sent back to the ultrasound room, Joe sat in the chair next to where I was. Tyson was in Joe’s lap while Miles sat in the chair next to them.
“You ready to see sissy?” - Joe
Tyson and Miles both nodded, causing Joe and I to both smile.
Soon the ultrasound tech walked into the room and before I knew it, the familiar feeling of cold gel on my stomach made me hiss.
“Okay, Mama?” - Joe
“Gel’s just cold. I'm fine.” - you smiled
Joe made sure to get a good video of you watching the monitor, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes at the sight of his baby girl.
He would never get tired of being called, girl dad, Joe wore it like a proud Boy Scout who had just received a new badge.
“Baby Girl is doing great, measuring how she should be, and is very healthy.” - Tech
“Good.” - you and Joe in sync
After a few more minutes, she wiped off my bump, and I was set to go.
Joe helped me off of the chair and pulled the hoodie back over my stomach.
“I love you.” - Joe grinned
“I love you too.” - you
——
I spent the first thirty minutes back home editing together the clips I already had, getting approval from Joe for each one.
It surprised me how much feedback and “Oh, this would be cool!” Joe was giving me. He liked this more than I thought he would.
We ate dinner just shortly after that, and the rest of the afternoon was slow, as it usually was.
Tyson and Miles went to bed earlier than usual, so Joe and I spent the majority of the evening watching space documentaries that Joe had been wanting to watch.
The last video of the day routine vlog was of the TV in front of us, Joe’s hand on my bump in view, as well as our legs tangled together.
I never truly appreciated the little things in my everyday life till they were pointed out in a video, like how Tyson always looks at Joe for approval before doing something or how Miles's eyes crinkle up when he smiles, just like his daddy’s.
Watching back at the completed TikTok while tucked into my handsome husband’s side as he rubbed over my baby bump and drew little shapes on it with his thumb had me thinking something I seem to always find my mind drifting off to. Oh, boy, was I one lucky girl.
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Authors note: cutie family fluff for Sunday
Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🫶
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Hope you enjoyed! 💕
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bigboysfalldeep · 11 months ago
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photogenic - when cops go under
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For over a year now, I've been running a photography business in a small town, but nobody knew it was just a cover-up for my mischievous games.
I've always been into hypnosis, especially when it meant bringing big guys under my control. I discovered that, under the right circumstances, anyone can fall victim to hypnosis. For me, I stumbled across a very interesting combination.
I was doing my research when I came across the use of light, smell, and sound to make someone a willful puppet, a mere plaything. A single light, scent, or sound alone won't be enough for most men to go under, but the correct mixture of all of them is pure blissful ecstacy.
I prepared my entire studio to fulfill my deepest wishes, and the whole setup was perfect. I had multiple ring lights, reflectors, strobe lights, and softboxes, all of them placed in a way to cover the entire stage in a warm, engulfing light. I made sure to let them flicker just barely, unseen for most unknowing eyes. It will exhaust the victim's mind and eyes, just what I need.
Of course, I created my own playlist of songs, mostly with ordinary background sounds, similar to elevator music, but I hid messages deep within the rhythm to subconsciously invade any unsuspecting minds.
To complete the setup, I placed a few candles here and there; I made them myself, using special ingredients that, when burned, act as some sort of aphrodisiac. A horny mind is a willing mind, and especially men are easily subjected to that method.
Just perfect, and the studio was operating for months without anyone suspecting a thing. Of course, I didn't just take control over anyone—just the beautiful ones, the ones that made me cry just by looking at them.
One day, however, I couldn't believe my eyes when I got an inquiry from the local sheriff department. They wanted to send an officer to a photoshoot for some sort of promotional material, but I didn't care. I was so excited that I didn't let that opportunity slip away. They just told me his name, Officer Romero. I had seen him around and heard his name. He was indeed a handsome man.
I prepared the entire studio and made sure everything was working perfectly fine when the doorbell rang. My heart was already racing so fast, and I could barely breathe steadily. I took several deep breaths before I opened the door. It got even worse when I looked into the cop's beautiful face.
"Officer Romero." I said I was reaching for his hand. "Right on time." He smiled and shook my hand.
"Of course." The officer said it in a deep, manly voice, which sent shivers down my spine. He looked so good in his uniform as well—so tight and thick, just the way I like them.
"Why don't you come in?" I motioned for him to enter my studio, which he did without hesitation. Getting a good look at his arse filling his pants, I quietly locked the door before following him closely.
"That's a nice studio." He growled deeply, taking a look around the main room. The music was already playing softly in the background, and even I smelled the faint scent of herbs hovering in the air all around us, but he didn't seem to mind it.
"Thank you." I nodded politely. "I hope I'm not disrupting your shift, officer."
He caught me staring at his uniform again, but he just let out a soft chuckle. "No, no. It's my day off, actually." He said, and his voice sounded so smooth, making my dick hard.
I just noticed he was carrying a bag right then. "I'm hitting the gym right after this shoot; I brought my gym gear too." The officer smiled contently, causing me to mirror him right away.
"Sounds good to me." I tilted my head and told him to put the bag to the side and to step onto the little stage I had prepared for him. I enjoyed watching him walk around in his uniform, as he was looking so fucking hot.
He got in position, struck a pose, and waited for me to take the first pictures. I saw him running both of his hands across his chest and waist, straightening his unfiorm shirt, and subconsciously checking if his pants were sitting okay.
At the same time, he kept touching his nose, running a hand through his light stubble, his hair, and down his neck. Was he nervous? Or was my setup already showing some effect on him?
"Are you ready?" I said as I turned on all the lights at the same time.
"Ugh." He groaned under his breath, slightly flinching at the barrage of light hitting his face. "I think so." Officer Romero's deep voice filled the room, causing my dick to pulsate softly.
"I hope it's not too bright." I knew it was way too much for simple pictures, but most people don't want to bother a professional.
"No, it's fine." The cop struck a pose again and struggled to keep his eyes focused.
I pressed my favorite button, the trigger of my camera. A light even brighter than all those lights around us. Luckily, I wasn't on the receiving end of this.
*Flash*
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"Looking good," I said loudly, pressing another button so the lights dim yet start to flicker slightly.
Romero was way more comfortable with that setup, just as I hoped.
"How are you feeling, officer?" I hesitated for a moment when I noticed he was struggling to loosen up a little.
"I'm just nervous." He chuckled again with that deep voice. "I am sorry." The cop shrugged, and I saw his face blushing slightly.
"That's all good. It happens to the best of us." I nodded comfortingly. "Just breathe deeply; try to relax."
Right away, he did as I told him, taking one deep breath after another, taking in more and more of that alluring smell filling the air.
After a few more seconds, I noticed a steady shift in his posture. The more breaths he took, the more comfortable he became.
"Very good. Just keep breathing, but don't forget to smile." I chuckled as well, preparing to take yet another picture.
*Flash*
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"That one was good." I licked my lips in anticipation; I knew that my setup was working perfectly fine.
Officer Romero was becoming more comfortable, kept breathing deeply, and looked right into the warm light.
"This feels good." He purred happily, stroking his own chest again before grabbing his own member through his pants. I could tell he wasn't paying attention to this; it was purely instinctive.
"Doesn't it?" I said I watched him stroking himself once, then twice, before striking another pose.
"Am I doing good?" He chuckled when I pulled the trigger again.
*Flash*
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"You're doing so well, Officer. You're a natural." I smiled, enjoying seeing him open up more and more. At one point, he slightly started swaying, unable to take a firm stand—an indicator that he was ready for the next step.
"Can you hear me, Officer?" I watched him through the lens of my camera as his eyes unfocused for a second, his body kept swaying, and he let his hands run all over his upper body, his crotch, waist, and ass.
"Yes." He smiled derpily and tried to regain his composure by holding his hands in front of his chest.
*Flash*
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"Good." I said it in a serious tone. "Now listen to me." With the press of a button, all the lights started to turn color, rhythmically to the sound of the music playing in the background.
His eyes widened, and he looked at me, waiting for any further commands.
"I want you to listen to me, breathe, and just breathe. Relax. It's so easy to just let me handle this, okay?" I watched his eyes roll back for a second; he was hooked on my voice already.
Officer Romero opened his mouth, but a single deep moan was the only thing escaping his lips at this point.
"Just look at these beautiful lights, how they spin around, all those colors." His eyes were unfocused again.
"Listen to my voice and the music and forget about your own thoughts. You don't need them right now."
The cop moaned again, touching his now visibly tenting cock through his tight pants.
"Take in more of that delicious scent; it will help you relax and be mine."
I watched him take several deep breaths, and a low guttural moan left his lips before he just smiled.
*Flash*
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I was already leaking while watching him through the camera, but I needed to see if it worked.
So I turned off the lights and saw him standing there, swaying slightly, while he wasn't looking at anything in particular.
I approached him, reached for his muscular chest, and placed a hand on his badge.
"Can you hear me, Officer?" I whispered, and his posture shifted again. His body was reacting to the sound of my voice, twitching once he heard it.
"Yess." He moaned again.
"Very good boy." I stroked his firm chest again and again, causing him to smile contently. "You're a big boy, aren't you?" I chuckled, but he just growled in response.
"I want you to listen to me, Officer Romero." I pulled him into a tight embrace, one hand around his thick neck, the other stroking his chest and tummy through his soft clothes.
"I want you to be mine, my personal cop." I breathed into his ear. "You want it too, don't you?" The officer groaned in agreement, giving in to my embrace.
He was so heavy, so thick, and so beautiful.
"Very good. Now stand tall." Separating myself from him, I watched him regain his composure. He immediately struck that usual pose: arms behind his back, chin up, and a straight chest.
His handsome face was blank, his eyes unfocused and foggy, yet still so beautiful. The training really showed, and I couldn't help but touch his upper body, his pecs, and his arms firmly. It felt so good to feel his muscles bulge, causing the uniform to become even tighter around his well-formed body.
Biting my lip I grabbed my own tenting cock—oh, how much I wanted to get sucked off by the handsome cop. But first things first.
"Flex for me." I grabbed the camera again and took another picture, this one, for my personal collection. Officer Romero lifted one arm after another, causing his biceps to bulge firmly—fuck, so hot.
*Flash*
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I moaned quietly at the sight of this man following all of my orders. Shaking my head in disbelief, I approached him again. "Stop flexing." I motioned for him to lower his arms, and he did.
I walked around him, appreciating his body some more. My hands encompassed his entire body, his broad back, his thick ass, and his thighs—so beefy, so good.
I had to hold back several moans, but I managed to behave myself.
Now standing in front of him again, I caressed his cheek—his skin was so soft—and let my fingers brush through his light beard, across his soft lips, and along his firm jawline.
"I'm so happy it was you." I breathed against his lips before I pulled him into that tight embrace again.
"Listen." I stroked his tummy now, firmly and lovingly. "I want you; I need you to be mine."
Officer Romero moaned into my ear and down my neck, making me leak some more. 
"I want you to focus on me, on my hand." I said as I let my hand run further down his body, right to his member bulging inside his uniform.
I grabbed him firmly, letting the palm of my hand rub against his thick cock.
"Get hard for me, boy, harder than ever before." I whispered into him, causing him to growl deeply.
His breathing intensified slowly, and his entire body tensed more and more. He was truly concentrating every fiber of his body to get hard—a sensational feeling.
As his cock grew harder, pressing against his pants and my hand, I smirked.
"Now, when I tell you to, you will release all that pressure building up inside your body, and with that, you will be mine, and mine alone."
"Yess." Officer Romero started to grind his hips against my hand, anticipating the coming release.
"Now." I breathed deeply, and with that, I felt his cock shooting multiple massive loads of his precious cum right against the palm of my hand. Letting out a long, guttural groan, causing his deep voice to break slightly, he leaned his head back, embracing this moment of pure blissful satisfaction.
More and more shots left the tip of his huge cock until he ran dry. Even then, he kept thrusting again and again. His mind was empty; all he could think of was cumming, letting go, and becoming a mindless, obedient toy.
I myself was breathing quickly, as I felt the same satisfaction as he did. I just came into my pants as well, and it felt so good.
In one swift motion, I unbuttoned his pants and slid my hand inside to fondle his member for a little while. He kept purring the more I touched him. His cock was sticky, so hard and thick—I pulled it out of his trousers and took a good look at it—so huge.
"Look at me." I placed a hand around his neck, forcing him to look at me. Officer Romero was struggling to keep a straight face; his eyes were vacant; he was drooling, but that made him even more handsome.
"You did so good, Officer." I licked my lips again while stroking him—all of him—again.
He purred happily and enjoyed my loving touch as well. I started to unbutton his shirt now too, exposing an even tighter shirt underneath. Even though the outline of his abs was visible.
"Listen. Anytime you see the flash of my camera, you will go deeper and back into this state again. Do you understand?" I ran my hand across his tummy, cueing him to growl like a dog.
"Yes." He said it with his usually manly voice, now dull.
"Good. Now. When I tell you to, you will come back to yourself. You won't remember anything that happened while you were under. The conditioning will be the only thing that stays hidden inside your mind. Understood?" I said as I fixed his uniform shirt.
The cop nods in agreement.
"You won't be bothered by your stained clothes; instead, you will be as comfortable as before." Licking my lips, I tucked his thick cock back into his briefs and pants, but it was still incredibly visible that he was so hard.
Officer Romero consciously touches himself once I button up his uniform pants before he regains his composure. "Yes." He growled.
I walked back to my spot, turned the lights back on—the white ones—and watched him through the lens of my camera.
"Welcome back, Officer," I said firmly, and right away, I noticed the shift in his posture again.
His eyes focused, he blinked several times, and he straightened his back. Insticnteviely, he ran a hand across his chest, his tummy, and his crotch, but he didn't seem bothered at all.
"Sorry, did you say something?" A little confused, he tried to look at me through the bright light.
"I think we're done." I said, turning the lights off.
With a soft smile on his lips, he approached me, one hand on his chest and the other on his gun belt.
With every trigger, my camera took a dozen pictures, and I just showed him the first ones—good pictures, enough for their plans.
"Brilliant." The cop spoke back with his manly, deep voice, but I couldn't help but admire his body while he was standing right next to me.
"Good. I will edit them and send them  over."I smiled politely, and he smiled brightly.
"Sounds good to me." He didn't even realize he was touching himself through his slightly wet uniform pants. I love messing with people's minds, especially the hot ones.
Before he left, we exchanged numbers—for business purposes, of course—and he grabbed his gym back.
"See you around." We shook hands.
"Oh, I will make sure of that. I thought.
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cosmicatta · 5 months ago
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One Piece Novel: Law — a short analysis
So, after a long time trying to get my hands on the Law light novel, I was finally able to read it recently! And, because I'm an obnoxiously intense person who can't just be normal about things, I found myself taking notes about everything I judged interesting.
And I thought I could share! So here's a mostly improvised essay about the Law novel, how it portrays Law and what it reveals about him as a character.
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Some notes before I start:
The edition I've read of this novel is the official Spanish translation by Planeta. When quoting and mentioning numbered pages, I'm referencing that edition.
I originally posted this on Twitter as a thread! If it sounds familiar, that might be why.
For those who haven't read the novel and might want to: be mindful of some trigger warnings, including gruesome medical descriptions, suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse, and violence in general (I won't be touching on these subjects here though).
These are just my personal impressions, I'm not trying to tell anyone how they should interpret the novel or Law's character. I'm just doing this for fun!
The story takes place right after Cora dies, following young Law's journey as he makes it to Swallow Island and desperately tries to survive. There, he will meet Bepo, Penguin and Shachi, as well as Wolf, a novel-exclusive character that welcomes Law and the boys into his home as a family.
Overall, it's a very short read, agile and straightforward. The style is very juvenile, but that was to be expected, and I'd say it does a pretty good job at capturing the feeling of watching a One Piece episode. The novel does kinda feel like a mini arc.
I'm unsure if light novels can be considered 100% canon in general, but since the contents don't contradict anything from what we've already seen in the manga/anime, I'm going to assume we can at least take the events described in this one as canon.
But I'll leave the plot aside a little bit to focus more on Law's psyche, analyzing everything in the novel as material that helps us further understand him.
The entire book (save from a few specific passages) is written from Law's point of view and in first person, so it offers a more in-depth look at his way of thinking, motivations and ideals.
What I find most interesting in this sense is that the whole story is very centered around Law's kindness. Though he does admit several times that he had wanted to see the world burn when he was under Doflamingo's care (as we already know from the source material), the novel makes it very obvious that Law's true nature is compassionate. His inner voice even explicitly states that he enjoys helping and making others happy. (Quotes roughly translated from Spanish):
P. 27: "And I felt very comfortable collaborating with the task of helping others."
P. 92: "Knowing that I was going to free a person from their pain [...] gave me a joy I had never experienced before."
P. 136: "Just imagining the surprised faces of the Old Man, Bepo and the others brought a smile to my face" [when planning on getting fresh fish for dinner as a surprise].
And, despite living under Wolf's motto of "give to take," Law never expects anything in return for any of his good actions. In fact, he gets furious at Wolf himself when, after saving his life, the old man insists on giving Law anything he demands as compensation.
P. 120: "I didn't save you because I wanted a reward!" [...] They [Bepo, Shachi and Penguin] burst into tears of happiness when they realized that you had survived. That's more than enough for me! [...]" I won't let you belittle their tears!"
But even then, Law keeps arguing that he only saved Wolf "on a whim," much like he would say years later when asked why he chose to save Luffy's life. This is a common theme throughout the whole book (which is also pretty obvious in the manga)—Law doesn't recognize his own kindness.
It's not modesty or shyness, his inner monologue makes it very clear that he doesn't see himself as good-natured, and is often confused at his own motivations.
In their first meeting, when Bepo asks him why he is so nice to him, Law doesn't know what to answer; and after that, when Law finds himself wondering why he's trying so hard to save Shachi and Penguin despite their past history, he blames it all on "doctor's pride."
P. 48: "I wasn't even a good person."
Still, regardless of what Law might think of himself, living in Swallow Island seems to be making him progressively gentler. He was wary and hostile towards Wolf at first, but eventually lets himself trust people again, trying to honor Cora's memory and what he taught Law.
In Swallow Island he builds his new found family little by little, though never letting go of Cora and what he meant to Law.
P. 39: "Cora and I were family, that's what I felt at heart, I had no doubts. We had loved each other without saying it out loud [...] Would I feel the same for the Old Man and Bepo eventually?"
Slowly, he starts finding comfort and joy in community. He lets himself be carefree around his new friends, treating them with open affection, laughing and being surprisingly enthusiastic (although he quickly starts taking his role as a leader very seriously, and sometimes avoids showing weakness around them so as not to worry them.)
Law even gets to become an active part of life in Pleasure Town, where he and the other boys are cherished after 3 years living and working there. He's comfortable with his role in the community and appreciates the people in town. His sense of duty towards them shines especially when the pirates arrive to attack the town.
Again, this contrasts with how Law sees himself even in the manga/anime, where he insists that he acts mostly out of selfishness and only seeking his own benefit (or, in the best of cases "on a whim.")
But the truth is that Law's decisions are almost always related to other people's desires.
In this sense, the concept of guilt is also key to understand Law's motivations and his relationship with the world as a whole. This is especially obvious when it comes to Cora—Law even briefly wishes that they had never met, so that Cora would still be alive (p. 128-129.)
In a way, guilt is what moves Law forward, and what slowly starts transforming into a thirst for revenge, into rage and hatred towards Doflamingo and possibly towards himself too. It's a kind of tragic guilt born out of love.
His love for Cora still haunts him, his last wish for Law is the big enigma that he tries to solve during his 3 years in Swallow Island: be free. What is freedom to Law? How can he fulfill Cora's request? This is the question that gives meaning to the novel.
We know that Law wouldn't feel free until finally taking down Doflamingo and avenging Cora's death many years later, but he hasn't reached that point of determination in the novel yet. Maybe that's what gives the narration that hopeful and optimistic tone, with a young Law that's still finding himself, experiencing wonder in loving again, and learning what it means for him to be true to his values. It's the start of an adventure, and its core theme is love.
The ending illustrates this very well; I especially like the moment where Law names the crew as they're setting sail:
P. 243: "Cora's love that he showed me, Wolf's affection, the trust I had in my companions. One word embodied it all: Heart."
It is love that gives Law a reason to keep going. And I'm so glad that the novel doesn't shy away from this fact and isn't afraid of sounding "sappy" or "corny," because I do believe emotion is a very important part of Law's character.
The epilogue closes with a very interesting quote in the last page:
"You hear that, Cora? This is my... This is our pirate crew."
It is unclear if by "our" he is referring to himself and Cora, as if dedicating this new beginning to him, or if he means him and his crew. I'd personally like to think he means it both ways. But in any case, it's interesting that he openly shares the honor of "owning" his crew with someone else. He is the captain, but not the owner. It's another little way in which his generosity is evidenced.
Overall, it was a very enjoyable read, and it left me wanting more. Obviously, it's not a literature masterpiece, but it gives a lot of interesting material for character analysis, which is super fun.
Finally, here’s a few fun facts for those who can’t/don’t want to read the novel but enjoy the little trivia:
The Polar Tang was built and designed by Wolf.
Law’s first tattoo was "DEATH," and he got it at a local tattoo shop in Pleasure Town at around 15 years old.
Shachi and Penguin are childhood friends and likely met through their parents.
Shachi had always wanted to be a hair stylist.
Law is bad at cooking.
Both Shachi and Penguin are good at cooking, especially Penguin, who worked as a waiter in Pleasure Town.
The Hearts’ jolly roger was collectively designed by Law, Bepo, Shachi and Penguin days before leaving Swallow Island.
Law decided the name of their crew upon setting sail for the first time.
And I think that's all! ♥ I hope my rambling was enjoyable at least!
Edit: I've now posted an analysis of the Ace novels too!
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lee-laurent · 2 months ago
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My Biggest Hater - Jamie Drysdale
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Summary: Jamie meets his biggest hater
content: fluff, angst, disapproving parents, kissing, mentions of sex, innuendos, mentions of break ups, engagements
wc: 9.6k
notes: enjoy!! i have serious writer's block atm, so this is the best i've got
Georgina Elwood was so in love with Jamie Drysdale that it hurt. The moment she set eyes on him through the glass of a Flyers game, she was hooked. And it was clear to anyone looking at that them that he felt exactly the same way.
But that wasn't how Georgina had ever planned her life going. She wasn't supposed to fall for an athlete, a hockey player. Her parents would never approve of that. Sports were seen as entertainment in her family and a rare entertainment at that. Sports weren't a serious career, a stable career. Yet, one night at the Well Fargos Centre changed everything for her.
~~
Georgina hadn't even planned to go to the game. It had been her best friend Olivia's idea, a spontaneous decision after a long week of studying for upcoming finals at UPenn. Olivia had convinced her with a mischevious grin and two tickets at the glass (Olivia had her parents' credit card).
"Come on, Georgie. Just one night of fun. You need a break from all the pressure. No one has to know," Olivia teased, slipping her arm through Georgie's as they walked toward the arena. The lights of Philadelphia flickered above them, the cool autumn air picking up leaves and spinning them all around. Georgie rolled her eyes, but secretly agreed with her best friend. Her parents would be horrified to know she was spending the evening watching a sport instead of spending it inside studying more than necessary.
She expected nothing more than a forgettable night--maybe a few laughs, some shit food, and minor ear damage. But as soon as they took their seats, Georgie's eyes were drawn to the player sporting 'Drysdale 9' on the back of his jersey.
She didn't really care about his name, just how skilled he was when it came to skating. He held her attention in a way she hadn't expected anyone at the game to. Every time the puck came near their seats, she found herself leaning forward to follow his every move.
"He's cute, huh?" Olivia nudged her, catching onto her staring.
"What? No," Georgie blushed, pretending to focus on the game. But she wasn't really watching the game. She was watching him. It was just him, gliding along the ice like it's what he was made to do.
And then, near the end of the second period, something unexpected happened. Jamie was checking the bench when, by pure chance, his eyes swept over the crowd behind it and landed directly on Georgina. It was just a brief moment, but their eyes locked.
Her breath caught in her throat.
He smiled. Not a flashy, "I'm-a-professional-athlete" kind of smile, but something subtle, almost shy, as if he was surprised that she had been looking at him.
"Georgie, he's totally looking at you!" Olivia squealed beside her, shaking her shoulders. Georgie tried to play it off, but the blush creeping up her face gave her away.
It felt ridiculous, but locking eyes with him felt right. Like they say in every romance novel ever--sparks.
It was after the game that things really changed. She was sitting in a bar with Olivia, sipping whatever fruity cocktail her friend had ordered for the two of them. Olivia was chattering excitedly about the game, not noticing how zoned-out Georgina was. She couldn't shake the image of Jamie's face when their eyes met.
"You're still thinking about him, aren't you?" Olivia teased.
"It's not like that."
"Uh-huh. Whatever you say. But I saw that look. He was totally into you. I bet you could've got his number if he wasn't like... on the ice."
"I doubt he even remembers I exist. Besides, I'm not going to throw myself at some guy just because he smiled at me during a game."
"Whatever. Let me tell you about that cute guy from calc..."
The night wore on, and Georgie found herself listening to best friend yap and yap about the frat boy in their calc course. That was until Olivia nearly spilled her drink in excitement, pointing towards the door.
"Georgie! Look! Fucking look!" she hissed, grabbing her arm.
Jamie had just walked in, still wearing his post-game jacket and laughing with a couple of his teammates. He looked even better without the glass between them--tall, with tousled hair and freckles.
"We have to talk to him. Come on!"
"Olivia, no!" The last thing she wanted was to embarass herself in front of the guy she'd been caught staring at. "I am not doing this."
"You don't have to. I'll do it. Just act cool."
Before Georgina could protest, Olivia was already standing, waving Jamie and his teammates over with confidence. Jamie's eyes found hers again, a glimmer of recognition lighting up his face. He nudged his friend and in a few large strides they were standing next to the two girls.
"Hey," Jamie greeted. "You were at the game, right?"
"Yep! My best friend couldn't stop watching you," Olivia teased, shooting a look at Georgie. "She's a huge friend now, right, Georgie?"
She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "It was... a good game."
"Glad you enjoyed it. Do you, uh, do you come to a lot of games?" Jamie asked, leaning in.
"This was actually my first one," she admitted. "I, um, I'm not super into sports."
"Really?" Jamie seemed genuinely surprised. "And yet you somehow ended up right at the glass?"
"That's all Olivia. She dragged me here tonight."
"Well, I'm glad she did," his voice made her stomach fill with butterflies. Before she could respond, he offered to buy her a drink. She agreed and every time she looked up that night, Jamie's eyes were already on her.
~~
Georgie awoke to the feeling of Jamie pressing kisses to her collar bone and neck. She sleepily reached up, blindly running a hand through his hair.
"Mmm, good morning."
"Morning, Gee," Jamie's voice was low and gravelly with sleep as he nestled closer, his arm draping over her waist. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better now," she whispered, tilting her head to give him more space to press kisses.
Moments like that, waking up beside him, felt like they were living in their own little world. A world where her parents' opinions didn't matter, where their judgement couldn't reach her. But deep down she knew she couldn't hide Jamie forever.
"You look like you're in deep thought," his lips brushing against her ear, his hand tracing patterns on her hip. He could read her like a book.
"Just thinking."
She hestitated. She hadn't told him yet about her plan to bring him to her parents' summer house. She wasn't even sure if it was the right move. Her parents had never met anyone she'd dated, and she had no idea how they'd react to Jamie. But she hated keeping their love a secret.
"Thinking about my parents."
Jamie's hand stopped it's slow carress. He knew how complicated things were when it came to her family. She had shared bit and pieces of growing up in Greenwich--how she went to boarding school, how her brother was a glorified frat boy, how her parents had unrealistic expectations for her entire life.
"You're still worried about them?"
"It's just... they're not like you. They won't understand us, not the way we do. And I'm not sure how to explain that to them without it turning into a disaster."
Jamie's jaw ticked. He had a vague understanding of her parents judginess, hence why he had yet to meet them in the 7 months that they'd been together. But he also didn't want the love of his life ripped from his arms because he wasn't what her father had pictured for his little princess.
"I love you Georgie," he leaned in to capture her lips in a loving kiss.
"I love you too, Jimmy," she mumbled against his mouth.
"Now, we've still got an hour until Cam comes home. So... are we taking advantage of this empty apartment or what?"
~~
Georgie sat on the couch, nervously twirling a loose thread on the Flyers shirt she'd stolen from Jamie. Jamie was in the kitchen making her her daily coffee, his back to her, completely unaware of the conversation she was about to start.
She'd been thinking about it for weeks--how to bring it up, how to convince him it was the right time. But every scenario that played out in her head made her stomach twist uncomfortably.
"Hey, Jamie?"
"Yeah?" He turned, two mugs in his hands, walking over to sit with her.
"I was thinking... maybe it's time for you to meet my parents."
The words hung in the air between them. Jamie placed the two mugs down on the coffee table, his eyes darkening with uncertainty.
"Georgie, we've talked about this," he said slowly, sitting back against the couch. "You know how your parents feel about... athletes. Do you really think that's a good idea?"
"I know it's complicated, Jamie, but I don't want to keep hiding you from them. It's been seven months. They're going to find out eventually and it'll probably be worse if we wait too long."
"But why now? What's the rush? It's not like they're begging to meet me. Hell, they don't even know I exist."
"That's the point, Jamie! I don't want to keep you a secret! I love you, and I want them to see what I see."
He stood up abruptly. "And what if they don't, Georgina? What if they don't see it? Hmm? You've told me enough about them for me to know that they've made up their minds about who's 'worthy' of their daughter. I'm just a dumb hockey player to them. Nothing more."
"Don't say that," she pleaded, standing up and reaching out to him. "You're so much more than that to me. I'm not asking for their approval--I'm asking for a chance."
"A chance for what? To be judged by people who look down on me because I play a sport for a living? You know how that'll go. And I don't want to go through that."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, her voice breaking. Jamie never raised his voice at her like that. "Jamie, please. I can't keep living in two separate worlds like this. I love you, and I want them to know you. I'm trying to do the right thing."
He sighed, his frustration being replaced by exhaustion. "I get that you're trying, Georgie. But what happens when it goes to shit? What happens when they decide they don't approve? Are you ready for that? Because I'm not sure I am."
She had never considered the possibility of losing Jamie because her parents didn't approve.
"So, what are you saying?" she whispered.
"I'm saying that I don't want to be the reason your family turns against you. I can't watch that happen."
"So, what, you'd rather just keep things easy? Stay in our little bubble and pretend the rest of the world doesn't exist?" Her voice rose, sharp with hurt... betrayal.
"That's not what I'm saying, Georgie, and you know it."
"Then what are you saying? Because right now, it sounds like you're just looking for an excuse to avoid them forever!"
"Maybe I am! Maybe I don't want to go somewhere where I know I'm not welcome. Did you ever think about that?"
The room went silent, then tension between them suffocating. Georgie felt her heart pounding in her chest, her head spinning. She turned away from him, running a hand through her hair. "I'm going home."
The clicked shut behind her, leaving Jamie standing in the living room. He sank into the couch, burying his face in his hands. He sat like that for a few minutes until his phone buzzed with a message from Cam.
Everything good? Heard some of it from my room. Wanna talk?
Not really. I don't know what to do, man. I think she's really pissed
~~
Georgie stormed into her apartment, throwing her keys on the counter. She let out a long, frustrated groan, running her hands through her hair.
Olivia looked up from the couch, a pint of ice cream in her lap. "Uh-oh. What happened?"
"He's being fucking impossible, Liv!" She made her way to the kitchen, pulling a bottle of white wine from the fridge and pouring herself an above average sized glass.
"Impossible how?" Liv asked, shoving the spoon in her mouth.
"He doesn't want to meet my parents. Like, at all. He think they'll judge him--well, actually, he knows they will. But that's not the point!" she exclaimed, hoisting herself up to sit on the kitchen island. "I get it, okay? My parents are... difficult people. But I love him, I want them to see how much love I have for him."
"Mmhmm. So, he's refusing to go? Flat-out?"
"Yeah! And he's making it sound like some horrible fucking trap I'm setting him up for. I'm not asking him to marry me for fuck's sake. I just want them to meet him. It's been seven months!"
"Okay, okay, slow down, Georgie. Come sit over here."
Georgie placed her wine on the coffee table, sitting down on the couch with a huff. Olivia handed her the ice cream without a word, and Georgie accepted it, digging in angrily.
"I just don't understand him! He just assumes the worst is going to happen. He thinks they're gonna like pull me out of school so he'll never see me again. I mean, sure, they're judgey as hell, but who's to say they won't come around when they see how happy I am?"
"I mean, Georgina, your parents aren't exactly known for being the most... open-minded people. You've told me plently horror stories about your dad giving guys that were just your friends the third degree for way less than being a professional athlete."
"I know, I know. But I thought they'd see how happy I am with him and... am I being delusional?"
"Not like totally. But def a bit. You have to like see where Jamie's coming from. He's just trying to protect himself--and probably you--from a big mess. Maybe he's scared of putting you in a position where you have to choose."
"He actually said something like that. He doesn't want to be the reason my family turns against me. But that's not fair. He's not the problem. My parents are! I can't live like this though, Liv. Pretending they don't exist, or pretending the love of my life doesn't exist? It's exhausting."
Olivia nodded slowly, taking the spoon from Georgie's hand and grabbing herself a bite. "Okay, let's break this down. You're in love with him, right?"
Georgie shot her a look. "Obviously."
"And you want him to be a part of your life, like, all of it?"
"Yes!"
"Then maybe, the like real issue is timing. Maybe Jamie needs more time to wrap his head around dealing with Joan and Michael. And maybe you need to figure out how to handle them, with or without his help. You guys need to be on the same page about what happens next, Gee."
Olivia always had a way of making things sound much more logical. "I just hate that I've made him feel like he isn't enough. I wasn't trying to, I guess it just came out wrong. He got so mad, Liv. Like more than he does on the ice. He even said he might be avoiding meeting them altogether."
"Yikes. Yeah, that's a tough one. But look, if you're both like serious about each other, you'll figure this out. Let him cool off and then talk about it again. And maybe give him some reassurance that whatever happens isn't a dealbreaker for you."
"You're right, Liv. God, you're like always right. I shouldn't have pusehd him. But like what if the longer I wait, the bigger the gap between him and my parents becomes?"
"You two are going to figure this out. Just give him some space. He'll def reach out when he's ready. That's how your Jimmy is, right?"
"I love you, Livvy."
"I love you more, Gee."
~~
Olivia grabbed her bag from her bedroom, slipping her phone into the front pocket of her jeans. Georgie watched from the couch, still holding her now-empty wine glass.
"You're leaving?" Liv was never one to cut girl talk short, especially after a rant like that one.
Olivia grinned, throwing her bag over her shoulder. "I'm giving you and Jimmy some space. You guys need to talk without me lurking around like a psycho killer. Plus..." she wiggled her eyebrows. "Let's be honest, you probably need the apartment for some make-up sex."
"Liv!"
"Hey, I'm just calling it like I see it. And you two fuck like rabbits. Have been since the first night you met."
Georgie blushed, covering her face with a throw pillow.
"But seriously, talk to him. I'm crashing at Claire's for the night, so you two better be cuddling when I return, got it?"
"Thanks, Livvy. Love you."
"Love you more!" she shouted over her shoulder as she left. "Good luck with Jimbo!"
The apartment fell silent and she sat there for a few minutes, her thumb hovering over Jamie's contact. But before she could click call, the door unlocked, and in walked Jamie. He looked so tired--his hair disheveled, his shoulders tense, but his eyes softened when he saw her on the couch.
"Spare key. Sorry for not knocking, wasn't sure you'd answer if I did," he admitted.
"Hi."
"I'm sorry, Gee. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I just--everything about this situation freaks me the fuck out. I didn't mean to hurt you or push you away."
She shook her head, walking over to him. "No, Jamie. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should never have pushed you like that. I was just too focused on my fear of losing you, and I wasn't thinking about how hard this must be for you. I know what my parents are like, and it's not fair for me to just expect you to be okay with all of it."
Jamie sighed, taking her hands in his. "I get why you want me to meet them, and I get that this is very important to you. But I wasn't ready... I wasn't sure if I could deal with whatever they throw at me. But now..." He paused. "I'm ready, Georgina. I want to do this. For you. Because I love you."
Georgie blinked, stunned. "You... you're ready?"
"Yeah, I thought about it a lot after you left. I don't want to keep pretending like your family doesn't exist. I'm not saying it's gonna be easy, but we'll figure it out. Together."
"Oh my God, Jamie!" she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I can't believe this! Are you serious? You're really ready?"
Jamie chuckled, hugging her tightly. "Yes, babe. I am."
She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her hands coming up to cup his face as she kissed him, pouring every ounce of her love into it. He kissed her back, his hands holding her waist like he never wanted to let go.
When they finally pulled away, Georgie rested her forehead against his, her voice soft. "Thank you. I love you so, so much, Jamie."
"I love you too, Georgie," he murmured, his lips brushing hers one last time before he smiled. "Now, how about we head to bed? We've got some cuddling to catch up on."
"You read my mind."
They walked into her bedroom, hand in hand. The weight of the argument had lifted, and for the first time in the last few hours, Georgie felt a strange sense of peace. She stripped down so she was just in Jamie's shirt, before nestling her head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat. They were going to face things. Together.
~~
Georgie was once again staring at her phone, but this time it wasn't Jamie's contact she was staring at, it was her mom's. She had rehearsed the conversation, but somehow, none the options seemed right. With a deep breath, she clicked dial and held the phone to her ear.
"Georgina, darling! What a lovely surprise," her mother's shrill voice filled her ear.
"Hi, Mom." Georgie tried to keep her tone light, but her nervousness was already making her voice crack. "How are you and Daddy?"
"Oh, we're fine. Just finalizing some details for your father's work gala next month. You know how he gets about these events. What about you, dear? How's school? You must be knee-deep in preparations for next school year."
"Yeah, school's good," Georgie winced, realizing she was in fact stalling. "Actually, I'm calling because... well, I'm coming up to the summer house next weekend, and I'm bringing someone with me."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
"Bringing someone?" Her mother's voice sharpened. "Who is this someone, Georgina? You've never mentioned anyone before."
"Yeah, well... I've been seeing someone for a while now. He's... my boyfriend."
Her mother laughed, "A boyfriend? Oh, my. And you're only just now telling us?"
Georgie bit her lip, regretting not easing her mother into the conversation. "Yeah, I know. I just... wanted to make sure things were serious before I introduced him to you and Daddy."
"That's exciting news! What's his name?"
"Jamie. His name's Jamie."
"Jamie...?" Her mother's voice trailed off, clearly waiting for more information.
"Jamie Drysdale," she replied, praying her mom wouldn't recognize the name immediately. She wouldn't. She didn't watch sports. But... what if she did?
"Hmm. Drysdale. That's not a last name I know. What does he do, dear? Is he a student as well?"
"He's not in school. He, uh, he works actually." She mentally kicked herself for how stupidly vague she sounded, but she wasn't about to drop the hockey bomb over the phone.
"Works? Doing what, exactly? Is he older? Surely you're not dating a... blue collar boy," she sounded disgusted at the idea.
"No, no. It's, uh, complicated. I'll explain everything when we're there. But he's great, Mom. Really. You and Daddy will love him." Georgie crossed her fingers, praying that she wasn't overselling it.
"Well, I hope so. I trust you've chosen wisely. Your father will be very interested to meet him."
"Yeah, I'm... sure he will."
"We're just surprised, Georgina. You've never kept secrets from us before. But if you're happy, then we're happy for you."
"Thanks, Mom. I really think you'll like him. I just wanted to give you a heads-up before we arrive. We'll take Jamie's car."
"Of course, dear. We'll be expecting you both. Saturday, yes?"
"Yes, Saturday."
"Well, I'll let your father know. He'll be very curious, I'm sure. You know how is about meeting everyone new. We're looking forward to it, Georgina. And this Jamie character--well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"
"Yeah, we'll see."
"Alright, darling. I must let you go, your father needs my help. Be sure to tell Jamie that we're looking forward to meeting him."
"I will. See you next weekend."
"Goodbye, dear. Love you."
"Love you too, Mom."
She hung up and let out a long breath. Well, that certainly went better than expected. But the real test would be the weekend--when her parents found out that their daughter's boyfriend was a professional hockey player.
~~
Jamie could feel Georgie's eyes on him from the passenger seat. She seemed laser-focused on the side of his face, her mind spinning. He had one hand on the wheel, the other on her thigh. She finally took a deep breath and blinked.
"Okay. I guess we should talk about what to expect."
Jamie raised an eyebrow. "This is about your parents, huh?"
"Yeah... there are a few things you should know before we get there."
Jamie's hand squeezed her thigh, something he often did to reassure her. "Alright, hit me, baby. What am I walking into?"
"First of all, my dad's name is Michael. He's... intense. He's the CEO of an investment firm--Elwood Capital. Very old money, very... opinionated." She paused. "He values success, status, and manners. So, just like be polite, answer his questions, and don't take anything he says too personally."
"Got it. What about your mom?"
"My mom, Joan, is well... she's a classic socialite. She's all about image and reputation. She love's entertaining, so don't be surprised if she goes all out for our visit. She'll probably ask about your background, family, that kind of thing. She's not as harsh as my dad, but she definitely has 'old-fashioned' views."
"'Old-fashioned' as in..."
"As in they'll probably ask when we're getting married and having kids."
"Seriously?" Jamie blinked in surprise.
"Oh, yeah," Georgie rolled her eyes. "In their world, that's the next step after dating for seven months. They have no concept of 'taking things slow.' Just brace yourself."
"Alright. Noted. So... Michael and Joan. Old money. Probably want grandkids ASAP." He shot her a playful look. "Anything else?"
Georgie winced slightly, knowing the next part would be the hardest for Jamie. "Yeah... one more thing. My parents don't call me 'Georgie.' They think it's a boy's name. So when we're there, you'll need to call me Georgina. I know it's weird, but... it's like one of their 'rules.'"
"I can do that. Georgina it is."
"Thanks, babe," she murmured. "It's just... they have this whole thing about appearances. You'll notice they care a shit ton about manners and stuff. It's like super formal. I've spent my whole life playing the role, and I just--" She trailed off, blinking rapidly. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be someone you're not. But I also don't want to give them a reason to be... difficult. More difficult than usual."
"Hey, I get it. I'm not going to pretend this won't be awkward, but I'll handle it. I love you, and I want to be there for you, even if your parents ask me when we're having kids after dinner." He smirked, trying to lighten the mood in the car.
"You're like seriously amazing, you know that?"
"I try," he removed his hand from her thigh, lacing their fingers together.
After a moment of silence, Georgie spoke up again. "Oh, and my brother Brooks will be there too. He's... your typical frat boy."
"Frat boy?"
"Yeah. He's studying finance at Cornell, and he's... like a lot to handle. He's not as formal as my parents are, but he's always trying to prove something. I'm sure he'll grill you about your job or try to make a competition out of nothing."
"Sounds fun," Jamie said dryly.
"Just ignore him. He can be annoying, but he's harmless," she added with a sigh. "He might make a few snide comments, but you don't have to take him seriously. I definitely don't."
"Alright. So, to recap: I'm going to meet Michael the CEO, Joan the socialite, and Brooks the frat boy. I'm going to call you Georgina, use all my manners, and probably dodge some invasive questions about marriage and kids. How am I doing so far?"
"You're doing great. I just... I hope it goes okay. They don't know you're a hockey player yet. I figured we'd save that when we're actually there. One hurdle at a time, right?"
"Yeah... figured that'd come up eventually."
"We'll handle it together, okay? No matter what."
"Yep. Together," he raised their conjoined hands to his mouth and gave them a quick kiss.
Thet were feeling a bit more at ease, but the storm was waiting for them at the summer house.
~~
The summer house was not what Jamie expected. When he thought of a 'summer house' he imagined a cabin or a cottage near the water. Instead he saw a mansion with a sprawling estate, perfectly manicured lawns and tall, pristine windows.
"Ready?" Jamie asked.
"As I'll ever be," she forced a smile. "Just remember... Georgina."
He grinned softly. "I got it. Georgina."
As they stepped out of the car, her parents were already waiting at the entrance, the imposing figure of her father standing next to her elegantly dressed mother. Brooks was lounging on a lawn chair on the porch, sipping what was definitely a whisky on the rocks, his signature smirk already plastered on his face.
"Georgina!" Her mother screeched, arms outstretched in gretting. "It's been too long, darling." She pulled Georgie into a very quick hug before shifting her attention to Jamie. "And this must be Jamie."
Jamie smiled, extending his hand. "Yes, ma'am. It's great to meet you Mrs. Elwood."
"Please, call me Joan," her mother replied smoothly, though the way she was looking at him was nothing short of calculating.
Her father stepped up next, his handshake firm, bodering on intense. "Michael Elwood. Welcome to our home, Jamie." His eyes lingered a little longer than necessary, as if he were also weighing him in his mind.
"Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to be here," Jamie replied. His tone was just as perfect as Georgie had imagined.
As they moved inside, Georgie felt her brother's eyes on her. He hadn't said a word yet, but the smirk on his face said enough.
"What's up, Georgina," Brooks drawled lazily, making no attempt to get up from his chair. "Long time no see."
"Good to see you too, Brooks."
His eyes shifted to Jamie, his smirk growing... if that was possible. "So, this is the famous boyfriend, huh? Didn't think you'd ever bring someone home. Must be serious."
Georgie shot him a warning glance, but before she could snap back, Joan cut in.
"Brooks, don't be rude," she said, though her tone was more dismissive than it was chastising. "Georgina, darling, let's sit down for some drinks before dinner. Jamie, you must tell me about yourself. We know so little about you."
Jamie nodded, following the family into the living room. The walls were adorned with family portraits and antique furniture, each piece screaming money. Georgie sat beside Jamie on the sofa, her hand slipping into his.
Joan handed out drinks as Michael settled in a large leather armchair.
"So Jamie," Michael began, his tone measured. "Where are you from?"
"I'm from Toronto originally, but I've been in the U.S. for a while now."
"Toronto. Quite a respectable city," he leaned back in his chair, his eyes still on Jamie. "And what is it that brought you to the states?"
Jamie kept his smile, but Georgie felt his hand tighten around hers.
"Work, mostly," Jamie replied smoothly. "Lots of great opportunities here."
"And what line of work are you in?"
Before Jamie could answer, Brooks let out a loud laugh, cutting through the tension in the room like a knife. "You really think Georgina would date a guy who can't afford a place like this?" He gestured around the room. "Relax, Dad. I'm sure Jamie here is doing quite well for himself."
The comment, while rude, gave Jamie time to avoid answering directly. Georgie shot Brooks a glare, but he just smiled right back at her.
"I'm lucky to be in a good position," Jamie replied, dodging the specifics of it.
Joan smiled, "Of course, dear. You seem quite composed." She turned to Georgie. "And how did the two of you meet?"
Georgie hesitated for a split second. The last thing she wanted to say was "at a hockey game," but before she could make up a response, Jamie jumped in.
"Through mutual friends," he said easily. "It was one of those on a whim connections that really just clicked."
~~
Later that evening, the four of them sat around the large dinging table, silverware clinking against china plates. Brook had been relatively quiet at dinner, only making a few snide comments about Georgie bringing someone home after all these years.
"So, Jamie," Joan asked, dabbing her mouth with a napkin, "what are your future plans? Are you thinking of settling down soon?"
Georgie nearly choked on her wine.
Jamie cleared his throat, caught off guard by how quickly the question had come. "We're happy where we are right now. We're taking things step by step."
"Step by step," Michael echoed, his expression unreadable. "Interesting approach."
As the conversation continued, Jamie slipped up, almost reflexively saying, "What do you think, Georgi--" before catching himself. His eyes darted to her father, who looked up quickly.
"What Jamie meant to say was, what do you think, Georgina?"
Her father stared at him a long, agonizing few seconds before nodding. "Right. Georgina."
The room grew uncomfortably silent before Joan stepped in, "Well, it's been a lovely evening, but I think it's time for a nightcap in the sitting room, don't you think?"
~~
Georgie stepped into the extravagant bedroom she'd made hers, flicking on the soft, golden lights. The space was luxurious as ever--thick drapes, an oversized canopy bed, and rich mahogany furniture. She always felt like an outsider in this house, like she playing pretend.
Jamie let out a low whistle, eyeing up the room's decor. "This is... next level, Georgina."
"You don't have to use that name when it's just us," she shuddered.
"I know. But I'm practicing for tomorrow."
"I think we survived today, don't you?" she asked, leaning against the bedpost.
Jamie walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into his chest. "I'd say we did pretty well. Your parents don't seem to hate me, and your dad didn't grill me too hard. I call that a win."
"Yeah, well, it's only day one. Brooks hasn't really gotten started yet, and tomorrow's going to be full of questions."
"We'll handle it. You were great tonight."
"Thanks," she murmured, pulling away from his arms and walking toward the bathroom. "I'm gonna shower. You should get ready for bed too."
Jamie sat on the edge of the massive bed, letting the events of the night replay in his mind. Dinner had gone better than he had expected, but it was still a tightrope act, not saying he wasn't a hockey player but also not saying he was.
Michael seemed like the type of guy who could sniff out weakness from several miles away. And while Jamie had managed to dodge the career question today, it was certain to come up again.
He stood up and pulled off his shirt, slipping into the pajamas Georgie had packed him--way fancier than his usual boxers... or nothing. He chuckled, shaking his head as he looked through the other clothes she'd packed. It looked like he was dressing in his pre-game suit almost everyday.
A few minutes later, Georgie emerged from the bathroom, her wet hair already curling at the ends and her body wrapped in one of Jamie's Flyers shirts she'd stolen months ago. She tossed the towel over a chair and climbed into bed with him, the mattress sinking under her.
"So, how do you think it went?" Jamie asked, trailing his fingers up her arm.
"Honestly?" she turned to face him, resting her head on his chest. "Better than I expected. My parents were... well, they were less intense than usual. And Brooks hasn't been too obnoxious yet, which is a miracle."
"I noticed your dad sizing me up, but he didn't go full interrogation mode. That was a relief."
"Yeah, that's win. I think they're still trying figure you out. But they liked you, I could tell."
Jamie brushed his lips against her temple. "Good. As long as they don't hate me, I'll take it."
Georgie smiled, tilting her head to kiss him. The kiss started sweet, but quickly deepened, her hand sliding into his hair as their bodies pressed together under the plush duvet. Jamie's hands reached down to her ass, squeezing as he pulled her closer.
Just as things were heating up, the door burst open.
"Georgina!" Brooks' voice rang through the room, as loud and annoying as ever. "Oh, shit, sorry! Didn't mean to interrupt your little... thing."
Georgie shot up, pulling away from Jamie who groaned. "Brooks, what the hell? Get out! Have you never head of knocking?"
"Relax, Georgina! I just wanted to see how lover boy here is settling in. Didn't realize you two were... busy. Sorry to interrupt your... bonding time."
Jamie forced a smile, clearly trying to hide his irritation. "Everything's fine, Brooks."
"Good, good. I'll leave you two lovebirds alone. Just wanted to say, Jamie, you survived round one. But don't get too comfortable," he chuckled, turning on his heel and leaving.
Georgie fell back on the pillows with a groan. "God, he's fucking insufferable."
Jamie laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey, at least he didn't walk in five minutes later."
"That's one way to look at it."
Jamie smirked, pulling her back into his arms. "Now, where were we?"
~~
Georgie and Jamie entered the dining room together, the table already meticulously set. Michael was at the head of the table, his newspaper folded neatly beside him. Joan sat to his right, sipping from an expensive looking teacup, while Brooks lounged in his chair, his breakfast barely touched.
"Good morning, Georgina, Jamie," Joan smiled, gesturing for them to sit down. "Did you sleep well?"
"We did, thank you," Georgie smiled, taking a seat next to Jamie, who was still adjusting to his new surroundings.
"I was just telling your mother," Michael began, folding his hands in front of him, "that I'd like to get to know more about you, Jamie. We didn't get to dig too deeply into your background yesterday."
Georgie internally groaned. Here we go.
Jamie just smiled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Of course, sir. What would you like to know?"
"Let's start with your family." Michael spoke with the tone he used with clients. He was acting like he was conducting a fucking business meeting. "Where do they live? What do they do?"
"My family's still in Toronto. My dad's a construction manager and my mom is a teacher."
"Hmm, working class. Must've been quite the change for you, being in the States then?"
"It was, but I've adjusted."
Brooks snorted into his coffee. "Yeah, sounds like a big shift. Not everyone's used to... this kind of life, right, Jamie?" He waved his hand around the room, clearly enjoying his subtle jab.
"Brooks," Georgie snapped.
"What? I'm just making conversation. I mean, Jamie here's gotta be doing pretty well for himself if he's hanging with us, right?"
"I'm doing alright," Jamie shrugged.
As breakfast continued, Joan took a more pleasant, if not extremely pressuring approach.
"So, Jamie," she began sweetly. "Georgina's father and I were talking last night. And we couldn't help but wonder--you said you're taking things step by step. But you've been together... what was it? 7 months? That's an awful long time to not think about marriage or children."
"Mom!"
"What? I'm just curious," Joan said with a light laugh. "I think it's a fair question. I mean, I'd love a grandbaby or two soon."
Brooks took that as his cue to jump in, "Yeah, I bet you guys have been practicing lots."
Georgie turned bright red. "Brooks, shut up!"
"Brooks, enough," Michael boomed, though he didn't seem like he fully understood the joke. "But your mother's right. You've been together a while now. What's next?"
"We're not rushing into anything, Daddy. We're happy."
"Well, as long as you're happy."
~~
By the time that lunch rolled around, the questions had been relentless. Michael and Brooks had been shooting questions at Jamie, left, right, and centre. As they sat down for another formal meal, Michael decided it was time to be straightforward once more.
"So, Jamie, I've been wondering about your work. You mentioned you came to the States for career opportunities. What exactly do you do?"
Jamie hestitated for a moment, knowing there was no ducking out of this one. He met Georgie's eyes, and she gave him a small nod.
"I'm a professional hockey player."
The room went silent. Brooks' fork clattered onto his plate, while Joan's expression was frozen in a mask of surprise.
"A... hockey player?" Michael asked, it was clear from his tone that he didn't find that nearly as respectable as he'd hoped. "As in... professional sports?"
"Yes, sir. I play for the Philadelphia Flyers."
Joan blinked. "Well, that's certainly... unexpected."
Brooks, on the other hand, couldn't hold back his laughter. "Wait, wait--you're telling me you're a jock?" He slapped the table, howling. "And here I was thinking you were some kinda bigshot investor or something! Georgina's dating a fucking jock! That's gold!"
"Brooks, stop it," Georgina glared.
"And how long do you think this career will last, Jamie? Professional sports aren't exactly known for their longevity, are they?" Michael ignored his son's antics.
"I'm aware it's not a forever career. But I'm building a future for myself beyond playing. I have a strong support system and I'm taking steps to ensure my financial stability."
"Hmm. I suppose that's... something."
Joan smiled tightly. "Well, it's certainly... different. Not exactly what we expected, but if Georgina's happy, then I suppose that's all that matters."
Brooks leaned forward, still chuckling to himself. "Well, this weekend just got a hell of a lot more interesting."
Jamie and Georgina excused themselves to the garden to get some fresh air. But mostly to distance themselves from the judgement inside.
"That went about as well as I expected," Jamie said drly.
"I'm so sorry, Jamie. They're just... like that. I knew they wouldn't get it right away."
"It's fine. I just didn't think it would feel this... awkward."
"They'll come around," Georgie insisted, though she wasn't sure she completely believed it herself.
Jamie nodded, pulling her closer as they walked through the garden. "At least we don't have to hide it anymore."
~~
The door to the office clicked shut behind Georgie. Why her dad needed an office at a house that was meant for relaxing was beyond her, but there she was. Michael sat behind his desk, his gaze laser focused on his daughter. She had known this was coming, but it didn't make it any easier.
"Sit down, Georgina."
She obeyed without a word, sinking into the leather chair opposite him. Her hands rested in her lap, picking at her fingernails as she waited for him to speak.
"I wanted to have this conversation with you privately. I didn't think it was appropriate to discuss in front of your mother or Brooks, but I need to make my concerns about Jamie clear."
Georgie didn't react. She's been taught not to talk back--to listen and absorb everything her parents said, even if it made her feel sick to her stomach.
"Georgina, a professional athlete... it's not the kind of career that provides stability. His schedule alone will keep him away from home most of the time. And if you decide to start a family..." he trailed off. "He won't be there."
Georgie clenched her fists tighter, willing herself to stay composed.
"And then there's the matter of the career itself," he scoffed. "Hockey players... they don't exactly need to be intellectuals. It's a sport, Georgina. It's not a career that requires real intelligence or long-term thinking. What happens when he gets injured? One bad hit, and it's all over. You'll be left with a man who has no real skills to fall back on. Is that really what you want for your future?"
"I want the best for you. I really do. You come from a family that values success, security, and stability. Jamie can't give you that, Georgina. His career could end tomorrow, and then what? You'll be left to pick up the pieces?"
Everything in her life was supposed to fit into a neat, respectable box. And she'd broken that. She knew that her father expected her to agree, to nod and promise to reconsider, to make the "right" choice. But she couldn't. And she wouldn't.
For the first time since sitting down, she met his eyes. "I love him, Daddy."
Michael leaned forward, letting out a slow breath. "Love is important, Georgina, but it's not enough. You're thinking with your heart, not your head. I'm trying to make sure you understand what you're getting yourself into."
Her hands were trembling in her lap. She didn't want to argue with him. She didn't try to defend Jamie or explain why they worked. Because she knew it wouldn't matter to him. Her father had already made up his mind.
Instead, she repeated herself. "I love him."
"You're an adult now, Georgina. I can't stop you from making your own decisions." His tone was cold, distant. "But I hope you understand the risks that you're taking."
"Is that all?"
"Yes, that's all."
Without another word, Georgie exited the office, her heart beating like a drum. Her whole body felt heavy and all she wanted to do was run to her room and scream into a pillow until she felt normal again. But first she had to find Jamie.
~~
At the same time Georgie was talking with her dad, Jamie was talking with Brooks. But rather than an office, they were sat in the living room. Brooks had his feet kicked up on the couch like he owned the place. Jamie was trying to embrace the silence, but Brooks wasn't the type for that.
"So, Jamie," his voice dripped with condescension, "let me get this straight--you play hockey for a living?"
Jamie, who had been scrolling through Instagram, glanced up. "Yeah. I play for the Flyers."
"Right. The Flyers. And how long do you think that's going to last?" He chuckled, clearly amused with his own question. "I mean, sports careers aren't exactly... permanent, are they? A couple bad hits, a bad knee, and boom--you're done."
Jamie set his phone down. He'd expected some grilling from Brooks, but his smug attitude was starting to grate on him. "Yeah, I'm aware it's not forever. But I've been smart about it. I'm planning for a life after hockey."
"Right. Cause I'm sure you have time for that while you're chasing pucks around the ice. Tell me, Jamie, what happens when it's all over? When your fifteen minutes are up? You think you're gonna be some big shot, or are you going to be a washed-up athlete, living off whatever's left in your savings? What's the plan when my sister leaves you because you've got nothing left to give?"
"I'm not worried about that, Brooks."
"Oh, sure you aren't. What's the backup plan? When hockey's done, what're you gonna do? Coach some peewee league? Work at a sports bar? Or just ride Georgina's coattails?"
Jamie's hands balled into fists. Brooks was making it personal now, but Jamie refused to let him get under his skin. "I'm not planning to fail, Brooks. I've worked hard to get where I am, and I'm doing everything I can to make sure I'm set for the future. I don't need a backup plan because I'm building my future now."
"You know, I don't get it. What does my sister see in you? Sure, you've got the whole 'athlete' thing going for you, but... what else? What happens when the fame fades and the money's not rolling in? You think you're going to be able to keep up with Georgina's lifestyle."
"Georgie and I don't live your lifestyle. We have our own."
"Right. Your own. You do realize the kind of family you're dealing with, right? My parents aren't just rich--they're legacy. This whole life, this world, is built on families like ours. And you? You're just some guy who got lucky with a stick and puck. Got even luckier when a rich girl fell for your whole 'pretty boy' act. You think you're gonna hold up under that kind of pressure?"
"I'm not here for approval, Brooks. I love Georgie and she loves me. That's all that matters."
"Good luck with that, Jamie," he laughed. "Because love doesn't pay the bills."
~~
Georgie sat next to the bath, running her hand under the water to find the perfect temperature to wash away the day. The door clicked and in walked Jamie, his expression tight.
"Hey," she whispered, turning to look up at him. "I was thinking... maybe we could take a bath? Just... relax for a bit."
"A bath?"
"Yeah," she shrugged. "This place is fancy, might as well use it. Plus... we could both use a break from the outside world, don't you think?"
Jamie smiled softly, "Alright, a bath it is."
They undressed in a comfortable silence, the day's stress already fading away with the steam rising from the tub. Jamie slid in first, leaning back against the curved edge of the tub. Once he was settled, Georgie climed in and rested her back against his chest. Jamie closed his eyes, leaning his head against the back of the tub, while Georgie played with his hand, the tension draining from his body.
"Brooks have you a hard time, didn't he?"
"Yeah, you could say that. He pretty much tore into me, picking every piece of me apart." He rested his other hand on his knee, not opening his eyes as he spoke. "He was throwing every insult he could think of. Basically said I'm a jock with no future and that I'm only with you because of your family's money."
"I'm sorry, Jamie. Brooks doesn't know when to stop. He's... he's such an asshole."
Jamie shook his head, "It's not your fault. I knew it wouldn't be easy with him, or dad for that matter."
"Speaking of my dad... we had a conversation too."
"What did he say?"
"He told me that he's worried. That you're not... stable. That your career could end at any moment, and he doesn't think it's a smart choice for me to be with you."
Jamie's jaw tightened. "So he thinks I'm a temporary thing?"
"It's more than that," she replied, tracing patterns on the surface of the water. "He doesn't think being a hockey player requires intelligence. He kept saying you don't have 'real skills' and asked what would happen if you get injured. He was so... dismissive."
"I'm not going to say I'm surprised. Your dad made it pretty fucking clear he doesn't think much of me. He didn't have to say it outright."
"I hated it. I sat there and let him pick you apart like you're some kind of... I don't know, risk? But all I could tell him was that I love you. That was all I could say."
"That's enough, Gee. You don't need to justify anything to them. I know it's hard, but we're on the same page, and we'll get through it."
"I just wish they could see you the way I do."
"Maybe they will," he brought his hand up to rub her shoulders. "Maybe they won't. But I'm not going anywhere, no matter what they think."
"I'm so lucky to have you," she leaned into his touch.
"I think I'm the lucky one."
Gee turned around, sloshing water onto the floor in the process, but she didn't care. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him. For a while they just sat there, enjoying each other's company, stealing the occasional kiss. As long as they had each other, they could survive anything.
~~
Tension radiated from Jamie, his posture rigid. He'd barely touched the soup that had been placed in front of him. Georgie had only looked at her food, her stomach much to upset to eat. She was hyper-aware of the silence that fell whenever Jamie answered someone's question or when Brooks threw in an unnecessary comment.
"You know," Brooks said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I never realized my sister had such low standards. I mean, a hockey player? I guess you've got one hell of a personality, because you sure don't have much else going for you."
Jamie's jaw clenched for the thousandth time that day, his eyes darting to Georgie, waiting for her to speak. But she couldn't. She couldn't form any words. Her parents exchanged uncomfortable looks, but neither made a move to stop him. It was if they were waiting to see how it played out, complicit in his cruel jokes.
Brooks wasn't done. "I mean, come on, Georgina. You could do better. Or are you so easy you'll settle for someone this fucking pathetic?"
Something inside Georgie snapped.
Her hands slammed on the table, silverware rattling. "That's enough, Brooks!" Her voice was filled with a fury she'd never let show in front of her family. Her whole body trembled as the words spilled out before she could stop herself.
"How dare you talk about Jamie like that? You have no idea who is, what he's accomplished. He's a thousand times the person you'll ever be, and I'm tired of pretending like I'm okay with your constant insults and fucking disrespect!"
She turned to her parents.
"And you two! You sit there and let him say these horrible things! You act like it's fine because it's Brooks, and that's what he does. But it's not fine! None of this is fine!"
Jamie reached for her hand under the table, but she pulled away, standing up. "Jamie is the love of my life! Do you hear me? I'm going to marry him someday! And I don't care what any of you have to say about it!"
Her mother gasped, raising a hand to her heart. Her father's face grew stony, clearly disapproving of her outburst. But Georgie didn't care what they thought. She was far beyond the the point of caring.
"You don't get to judge him! You don't get to make me feel ashamed for loving him, and you don't decide who I'm 'supposed' to be with. Jamie and I are building a life together! If you can't deal with that, you won't be seeing me ever again. I'm done. With the insults, with the judgement. Fucking all of it!"
"Let's go," she whispered to Jamie, taking his hand in hers as they exited the dining room.
"Georgina--"
"No," she interrupted her father, "I said what I needed to say. If you can't accept Jamie, then you can't have me in your lives."
With that, she and Jamie left the room, the slam of the door sending shockwaves through the whole room.
~~
Georgie and Jamie left the grand house behind them, still walking hand in hand. Neither of them had spoken since they packed their things and walked out--there was too much to process, too much had just happened at once. They didn't speak until they reached the car when Jamie broke the silence.
"You okay?" he asked, turning to face her.
Georgie sighed, leaning against the car. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean yes... I'm okay. But I just... can't believe I actually just did that. I've never stood up to them like that before."
"You were amazing in there, Georgie. You didn't just stand up to them... you like stood up for us. For me."
Georgie leaned her head on his chest. "I couldn't listen to it anymore. My dad, Brooks... all the judgement. I just snapped. But I meant every word of it, Jamie. I meant it when I said I'm going to marry you one day."
Jamie's eyes widened. He knew how serious they were about each other, but hearing her say it, especially under such emotional circumstances, made him feel a way he wasn't sure he'd ever felt before.
"You know... we don't have to wait."
"What do you mean?" she pulled away from his chest, blinking rapidly.
"I mean, we don't have to wait for 'someday.' I don't have a ring right now, but this isn't some grand proposal... but I love you, Georgie. And after the weekend we've been through... I don't want to wait. Let's do it. Let's get married."
Georgie couldn't believe her ears. It wasn't the proposal she'd dreamed of growing up--not a fancy dinner, not on exotic vacation, and with no ring. It was so unbelievably Jamie. And none of that mattered. What mattered was him. What mattered was them, together.
"Are you serious?" she whispered.
"Completly serious. I know it's not traditional in any sense of the word, but we can figure out the details later. You're it for me, Georgie. You're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I love you. Let's start the rest of our lives. No more waiting."
Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, and she laughed her way through them. "Oh my God, Jamie. Yes. Yes, I'll marry you."
Jamie pulled her into a kiss, holding her close. It wasn't the picture perfect proposal. It wasn't grand or over-the-top. But it was real. It was them.
When they finally pulled apart, Georgie wiped at her eyes. "I can't believe we're actually doing this."
"We are. Together, no matte what. Your family might come around one day, maybe they won't. But it doesn't matter, Georgie. I promise you that."
"I know. And I don't care what happens with them right now. All I know is that I need to be with you."
"Then it's settled. We're getting married. Me and you."
"You and me."
They stood there for a few more minutes, just wrapped in each other's arms. There were still so many things they had to figure out--but for now, none of that mattered. All that mattered is that they had each other. And they were ready to take on the world.
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springwitch26 · 1 year ago
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hots for teacher (melissa schemmenti x fem!reader)
part 2
summary: you've been infatuated with melissa schemmenti ever since you worked under her as a student teacher. what will happen when you meet again a few years later?
warnings: NSFW content, implied future smut (part 2 on the way??), praise kink, age gap idk
notes: hi everyone! my name is april, and this is my first ever fanfiction. i wrote this for fun and then decided to share it with the community, because i love the little gay women in my phone! i've been reading fics on tumblr for as long as i've been on the internet, so this is a strange experience for me. anyway, enjoy, and let me know what you guys think!
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tonight you looked sexy, and you knew it. you wore a sinfully short black dress with colorful butterflies. it was one of your favorites; it showed just the right amount and hugged just the right places to be tantalizing. your eyes were painted with thin black wings and soft, glittery eyeshadow that made you look like a sweet dream. your lips glistened and your hair was tied up in two dutch braids. you were a vision.
all this meant that you were not the least bit surprised when a deep, sultry female voice sounded from behind where you sat at the bar.
"it should be illegal to look like that in public."
you smiled coyly and turned around to face the stranger.
"why? see something you like?" when you turned to face her, however, you were met with a familiar face. it was a face you'd seen in your dreams time after time: your former boss, melissa schemmenti.
you had been assigned to work with melissa as a student teacher while you were in school for your teaching certification. at the time, she was teaching two grades simultaneously, so she was grateful to have you there to ease the burden. it didn't hurt that you were always so eager to please. you wanted to learn and become the best teacher you could be.
of course, your motives weren't entirely pure. you were attracted to melissa from the moment you saw her. you remembered it like it was yesterday: her flaming red hair was slightly messy from trying to wrangle her double class, and her glasses sat askew on her nose. then you came along and turned everything around. she would give you to-do lists, and you would finish them before lunchtime the same day.
"great job, hon! you're so good, don't know what i'd do without you..." she'd say each time, beaming with pride at her new prodigee.
"o-of course, ms. schemmenti. what else can i do for you?" you'd respond, blushing profusely at the praise and struggling to hold her intense gaze.
within a week of having you, melissa was caught up on all her work. she couldn't help but feel like you were an angel, or some kind of gift from god. whatever you were, she cherished you. as the two of you spent more time together, she started to want you more and more. every project, every conversation, every smile you two shared only added to your chemistry.
she had fun with it--teasing you with special pet names and praise, watching you get all flustered and squirmy. she knew you liked her back. you weren't the most subtle about your desire.
melissa would never act on her feelings, though. you were a doe-eyed twenty-something with big dreams, and she was your much older boss. getting involved with you would be too messy. but she always held out hope, even after you left abbott, that one day you'd meet again.
you studied melissa's sly smirk for a moment, in disbelief at your luck. it had been two years since you left abbott. you had your own big girl job now, and you were a bit more mature. there was nothing stopping you from acting on your desires.
"oh my god, ms. schemmenti! please, have a drink with me. it's been a while." you hoped you didn't sound too desperate, although you definitely looked desperate once you got a good glance at her.
her look was striking. your breath hitched in your throat as you scanned her form, dressed in red leather pants and a button-down shirt. her arms were visibly muscled, even through the jacket. the black button-down shirt she wore was unbuttoned just enough to tease her cleavage. around her waist was a thick black belt that you wanted to pull on. her fiery hair was tied back haphazardly in a high ponytail, just messy enough to be sexy. and her hands—god, her fingers were long and ringed and—
"whatever you say, kid," she shrugged and sat down next to you, giving you a playful smile. "and you can call me melissa now."
she had a mischievous glint in her eye, probably knowing how you felt just by the wanton way you stared at her. when she sat down beside you, you felt your whole body heat up. your thighs were almost touching from the proximity, and you could smell her intoxicating perfume with each inhale. feeling her body so close to yours had you more drunk than the alcohol. it didn't help that her eyes now roamed over your body shamelessly, taking in your glistening lips and lingering on your soft cleavage. you tried your best to play it cool.
you talked for a while, catching up on everything. you told her about your new job at a suburban elementary school, your volunteer tutoring on the weekends, your summers in the mountains. she beamed with pride hearing of your accomplishments.
"that's great, y/n! sounds like you're goin' places."
"thank you! i think i owe a lot of my success to my student teaching experience—everyone at abbott was great, including you. especially you," you looked at her with an intense gaze, feeling your desire catch up with you.
"you were such a passionate mentor. you just had this way of getting me excited..." you trailed off as you fixated on the stirrings of a smirk on her face.
"...excited about learning," you finished shakily.
"mm-hmm," she chuckled.
maybe it was the alcohol, or the simple fact that she was right next to you and seemingly devouring you with her eyes, but you became bolder then. you only had one shot at this.
"i mean, you really touched me in a way that nobody else could," you leaned in, dragging out your syllables for emphasis. "i worked so hard because i just needed to be good for you."
now she was the one shuddering. you had the upper hand, if only for a moment. but she quickly got her boldness back.
"i noticed that. always so bright and attentive. i bragged to all the other teachers about what a good girl you were." to top it all off, she punctuated her sentence by placing her hand firmly on your knee.
you thought you were going to explode right then and there. your skin erupted in goosebumps at her touch, and you spread your legs ever so slightly to indicate your consent. her face split into a smug grin and she began to crawl her fingers up your thigh, agonizingly slowly.
your response came as a shaky whisper. you were sure you must have soaked through your panties just from her teasing touches.
"it's good to know that you thought so highly of me. i looked up to you a lot," you said sheepishly. "um, i'm a bit embarrassed to admit it, but i did have a bit of a crush on you..."
"oh, yeah. that doesn't surprise me. don't be embarrassed, hon. you can't help what you feel," her hand had stalled at the midpoint of your thigh, and she looked at you with sincerity.
"it doesn't surprise you?" you asked, struggling to get the words out once she resumed stroking your thigh.
"i had my suspicions," she said with a knowing smirk. "i'm sharper than i look, ya know."
her darkened eyes sent shivers down your spine. you felt your core heat up at the humiliation of knowing she knew exactly what you thought about her.
"am i that obvious?" you asked, somewhat breathily.
"oh, sweetheart," she laughed. she leaned in close and you could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her breath on your skin. her fingers pinched the skin of your thigh as she whispered to you. "you sat five feet away from me for months, always wearin' those little black skirts. you think i didn't see you rub your thighs together every time i gave you praise?"
her hand now caressed your inner thigh softly, teasingly. you failed to respond, trying to process her words but finding yourself unable to do anything but whimper almost silently.
"so soft here. mhmm," she husked into your ear. there was a hint of giddiness in her voice, as if she was pleased with herself for taking you apart so easily. "does that feel good, princess? do you like it when i touch you?"
"yes!" you said, almost too loudly for the public setting. "yes, i like it very much."
"good," she whispered as her fingers found the edge of your panties. your thighs spread even wider, and you let out a small gasp.
"we've got lots more to catch up on, don't we?" she continued, her fingers drawing feather-light circles over your clit through the fabric. you wondered if she could feel you throbbing for her. your hips bucked up to meet her hand, and she slapped your thigh in warning. "if you wanna keep talkin', we can head back to mine..."
you turned to her with big, glazed-over eyes. still whimpering, you nodded rapidly, earning a laugh from the older woman. she grabbed your hand and guided you out of the packed bar.
"i'm gonna wreck you, hon," she mumbled without looking back at you.
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