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#also i really really like how i did their suits in this one
roosterforme · 3 days
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The Younger Kind Part 59 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: With your wedding on the horizon, it wasn't the best time for you to question your place with Bradley. But he's always patient, and Noah is perfect, and it doesn't take you long to realize that your husband-to-be is always going to see you in a different way than you see yourself. 
Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, blowjob smut, angst, fluff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4700 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Now that you were looking at your wedding dress all spread out on the bed, you were afraid to try it on. It looked too perfect. Pristine and white. It was exactly how you imagined it would be when Natasha convinced you to order it, and it looked like it would fit like a glove over your belly which was starting to grow. But right now, you were feeling so overwhelmed. 
With your reduced work hours, you were home alone until Bradley and Noah got back in another hour or so. You had the whole place to yourself to do as you pleased. Plenty of time to try this thing on and send some photos to Natasha for her opinion. Then you could unwind with a glass of juice and a nice shower. But today was starting to feel like one of those days where Bradley's perfect bungalow on the perfect street in Coronado wasn't really where you belonged.
When you felt like you were in control of things, this was your castle. You were Bradley's Princess. You were Noah's Mommy. But today you felt like a fraud. Part of you was missing your little rental house where you could feel small and insignificant. Where you only had to take care of yourself. Were you really going to marry a man over a decade older than you? Were you really capable of raising not just Noah but a baby as well?
Mortification and embarrassment flooded your body as the dress mocked you from its place on the bed. You would never be deserving of anything as perfect as this soft fabric. Or this perfect life. Why did Bradley even want you?
"Princess?"
You didn't hear him come in, but now you heard his heavy footfalls as his boots met the hallway floor. He was headed for the bedroom, and you were in tears, staring at the dress. You managed to throw the bedding and pillows on top of it as Bradley entered the room. 
"There you are. I was calling your name," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind and letting his hands rest on your belly.
His touch was everything you always wanted, and he hadn't seen your tears yet. You tried to pull it together as you whispered, "Actually, you were calling my nickname."
"Same thing," he whispered, his nose pressed to your neck.
"You're home early," you said, wiping your eyes. "Did you pick Noah up?"
"Not yet," he said, trying to spin you around to face him. "I thought I'd pick you up first and see if you wanted to go out to dinner after we get him. And maybe we can hit the mall so you can help me choose something to wear for that minor, little occasion that's just around the corner also known as our wedding."
You tried to fight against his grasp on your shoulders, but he spun you easily in place. You'd been too slow to remove all traces of your tears and worry, and his face fell when he looked at you. "Sorry," you whispered. "I'm just having a weird day."
"What's wrong?" he demanded softly, his grip on your hips tightening as his eyes dipped down to your belly.
"We're fine," you whispered, wishing you could convince him that was true.
"Something's bothering you," he said, his brown eyes meeting yours. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No." Then you started crying as he collected you against his rough flight suit. "You didn't do anything wrong. I don't even know what's wrong! I just don't belong here."
You felt his body go rigid as he held you impossibly tighter. This time he did use your actual first name, and you had to force yourself to meet his eyes. He looked concerned as he asked, "You don't think you belong here? With me? I love you."
But you just shook as tears streamed down your face. You didn't know how to say what you were feeling, so you just started talking through your sobs. "It's perfect though. You know that, right?" you asked, gasping for air as he looked at you in silence. "Your house and your son, and all of it. Everything here is perfect, Bradley. And the wedding dress arrived," you sobbed, gesturing to where there was some white fabric peeking out from the bedding. "And even it's perfect, and I just feel like a fraud. Like I'm inserting myself where I don't even belong. And I don't know how to be a mom."
You had your face buried against his chest, and he let you cry. He didn't say a word, and you weren't sure if that was better or worse right now. He just rubbed his hands in slow circles along your back until you were able to swallow and take some deep breaths. Then he guided you back so you were sitting on the edge of the bed next to the messy bedding, and he knelt down in front of you. His big hand came up to your cheek, and he swiped away some of your tears as he spoke.
"If anything here seems perfect, I can assure you it's because you're here now. It feels perfect to me, too, but it didn't always."
You swallowed hard, letting him trace your bottom lip with his thumb as you whispered, "It didn't?"
Bradley shook his head, his brown eyes wide and sincere. "No. It never felt like this before I met you. You showed up and made everything better until it was perfect. It happened slowly, but I could feel something shift right from the start. Each day got better after Noah fell in love with having you here. And after I'd known you for just a few weeks, I never wanted you to leave."
"After just a few weeks?" you asked as his hands and voice soothed you.
"Yeah," he replied softly. "I knew it. I'm sorry you had to put up with so much shit before we got to the point where it felt perfect, but I knew I wanted you with us. And then I needed you with us. And now I need you to understand that you belong here as much as Noah and I do."
"And Skittles."
The pup popped out of her bed and ran over as soon as you said her name, but Bradley kept his eyes on your face. "Always Skittles. And I hate to break it to you, Princess, but you already are a mom. So stop lying and saying you don't know how to be one. You are Noah's mom, and he's happier than I've ever seen him."
You closed your eyes and let all of his words fade into you. "But the baby will be different," you whispered even as you understood that you did know what to do. You handled kids and babies all day long at work, and you did it with care even though they weren't your own. And you did love Noah like he was yours. "But I think I can do it."
When you slipped off the bed and into Bradley's arms, he cupped your face in those hands and examined you closely. "You're not gonna be doing anything alone, Princess. I'm right here."
You nodded and breathed him in, and you already felt better knowing that this house and Bradley and Noah weren't as perfect unless you were here with them. "Can we go pick Noah up and just come back here for the night? I think I feel better, but I just want to relax."
"Anything you want," Bradley promised, and you let your arms go around his neck so he could help you to your feet. "We can come right back here, where everything feels perfect thanks to you."
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Bradley wasn't sure exactly what upset you so much earlier, but after you took a shower and ate dinner, he sent you and Noah to the couch to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons. When you paused in the doorway, you reached for him, and he went right to you with a soft kiss. You were wearing his sweatpants and an old tee shirt, and you belonged here. He didn't know how else to make you see that. But you seemed to understand it deep down where it mattered.
"I feel better," you whispered as he kissed your cheek. "My hormones are all over the place, and I'm always tired, but I do feel better. Thank you for being patient."
He was about to tell you that you didn't have to thank him for that when Noah called out. "Mommy? Are you coming?" 
A beautiful smile found your lips as Bradley said, "You belong here."
You nodded and turned toward the living room, leaving him in the kitchen to clean up. But he didn't want to have it any other way. He promised you he'd take care of everything around here, and that included wedding planning and decorating for Christmas. One problem was the fact that he barely had any decorations, because he barely had time to do anything before you. The other problem was that you were clearly worn out this week after Disneyland, but he needed your input for the rest of the planning.
After loading the dishwasher, Bradley paused and decided to make you some decaffeinated coffee in his Aviators Look Down on Others mug with an extra dollop of French vanilla creamer. He let it cool on the counter for a few minutes while he wiped down the table, and then he took a sip for himself before heading into the living room. Noah was curled up on your lap, and your fingers were gliding gently in his hair as the two of you watched your show together. 
"This is where you belong," he whispered, and you turned to look at him. 
"I know," you said with a soft smile.
Bradley snuggled in carefully next to you and handed you the mug, and soon Noah started to fall asleep. When your head came to rest on his shoulder, Bradley said, "How do you feel about me asking Amelia if she can babysit Noah on Saturday so I can take you on a date?"
"A date?" you asked softly. 
"Mmmm," he hummed. "Maybe go old school and do dinner and a movie. Something other than pizza and an animated classic. Actually leave the house and stay out past eight o'clock."
You laughed softly as Bradley pushed Noah's soft curls back from his forehead. "You do like to go old school, Daddy."
He rolled his eyes but smiled. "So is that a yes?"
"That's a hell yes," you replied. "A date with my hot baby dad sounds nice. And thanks for letting me have a freak out earlier." You looked up at him with his mug in your hands and his son sprawled halfway across your lap. "I love you, too. And I'm totally ready to get married." 
He let your words settle in his mind. There was so much to do. The extra bedroom still needed some work if it was to become the nursery. There were still a few things to finalize for the wedding. But he wanted to do all of it, and that included enjoying every moment with you. 
"Well that's good, because I'm totally ready to get married to you, Baby." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'll carry Noah to bed, and then I'll text Amelia and Penny."
When he stood with Noah curled up against his chest, you got to your feet as well, and Bradley's heart leapt as you told him, "I think I feel like trying on my wedding dress now."
"Yeah? You need any help with that?"
You shook your head and stretched, and the soft swell of all your curves was accentuated by your bump. You kissed him softly like he wasn't completely entranced by you. Like he wasn't aching to tuck Noah in and follow you to the bedroom.
"I think I'll keep it a surprise. You can see it on me in a few weeks," you said with a little smirk as he started following you toward the bedrooms.
Every mention of the wedding left him throbbing for you. When you started to close the bedroom door behind you, Bradley said, "As soon as you're undressed again and in bed, you let me know, and I'll be right in."
"Yes, Daddy."
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As Bradley pulled the Bronco out of the driveway, you waved to Noah and Amelia on the porch. Bradley let you pick the spot for dinner, but he said he was in charge of the movie. Then he mentioned something special that he wanted to get on the way there.
"What's the special surprise?" you asked several times as he drove. "You're just teasing me at this point."
He gave you side eye and reached for your hand. "Thought you liked that sort of thing."
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing and encouraging him. "I like it when you do it in bed a lot more."
He hummed like he was mulling over your words. "Then consider this some quality foreplay: you'll learn what the special surprise is when we get there, and not a moment before."
You moaned like you were in pleasure, and you felt the Bronco jerk a little to the right as Bradley's hand tightened around your fingers. You burst out laughing and looked over at him. "I love it when you talk Daddy to me. Oops, I mean talk dirty."
"You keep moaning like that, and I'll drive off the damn road," he muttered, checking the mirrors and changing lanes.
When he turned right and drove a block, you saw Sweet Dreams Bakery. "Oh, wait," you said, pointing out the window. "That's where you got the princess crown donuts!"
Bradley pulled past and found a spot where he could parallel park. "Yeah, and we can stop later after we buy the special items."
"Oh, we're shopping now?" you asked, happy you brought your credit card along to keep teasing him.
"We are," he confirmed, and when he helped you down from the Bronco, you realized he parked right outside a jewelry store. He led you inside and said, "Shopping for our wedding bands."
You wrapped your arms around his waist, and bounced up and down a bit. You had been making yourself giddy over the idea of Bradley wearing a ring. He was literally letting you stake your claim with something visible, and if your moan in the Bronco was intended to wind him up, the one that just escaped you was one hundred percent authentic.
"Daddy."
His dark eyes were locked onto your lips as he whispered, "Behave." 
A sales clerk with a bright smile was headed your way, and Bradley squeezed your hip in warning when she said, "Hi, Mr. Bradshaw."
You looked at Bradley with raised brows. How many times had he been here that they remembered him. "Are you here to pickup your special order?"
"Special order?" you asked as Bradley's cheeks grew pink.
"Uh, we're here to pick out weddings bands," he said, avoiding your eyes.
"Perfect," said the sales clerk, and she was immediately leading the way over to a display case. You were ready to dig your feet in and demand more information about Bradley's special order and why they knew him by name here, but he took you by the hand and tugged you gently along.
You pressed your lips together to keep quiet as you remembered that Casey lived in this neighborhood; you were really starting to dislike the idea of Bradley hanging around here when your eyes settled on a tray of men's wedding rings. "Oh," you said softly.
Bradley kissed your temple and whispered, "Tell me which ones you want me to try on for you, Princess." 
You pointed to the plain band right in the middle, and you knew before he even put it on that it was going to be perfect. He picked it up with his right hand and slid it onto his left ring finger. It was a little thicker than a traditional band, and once he had it on, he held his hand up for your inspection. 
"It's perfect," you told him, your voice a little breathless. 
"You want me to try on any others?" he asked, a smile playing on his lips. 
You kissed the edge of his mustache, letting your body clench at the rough feel of it. "No."
"You sure?" he whispered.
"Yes."
He removed the ring and handed it to the woman who worked there. "This one," he told her while he kept his eyes on you. "It's perfect."
When it was your turn to try some on, Bradley stood behind you with his chin resting on your shoulder. You started to reach for the plain bands that would match with your enormous diamond ring, but Bradley said, "What about one like that? With the little diamonds that go all the way around?"
It was gorgeous. You should have known he'd point out something spectacular looking when you considered how pretty your engagement ring was. "Bradley, it probably costs ten times more than the plain one. Besides, the plain one kind of looks like yours."
When you glanced at him over your shoulder, you were met with those Bradshaw brown eyes that you couldn't seem to say no to. "Humor me?"
So you slid it on with a soft sigh, because it was incredible. "I do like it," you told him, trying to take it off again, but he stopped you with both of his hands. 
"Then we should get it."
You tore your gaze away from him and asked the woman, "What's the price difference?"
"Please don't tell her that." You turned back to Bradley to glare at him, but of course you didn't get an answer about the price. He had the upper hand in this store. "If the price didn't matter, would you want this one?" he asked you, tapping the ring where it was still sitting on your finger.
"Maybe," you whispered. "But the plain one is just as-"
"You're not plain. You're a Princess."
The kiss you gave him was a little indecent, but you didn't really care. He slid the ring from your finger as you tasted his mouth, and you assumed he gave it to the saleswoman so he could buy it for you. You just didn't want to let go of him as his big hands moved down your sides to your belly, and then he broke the kids.
"I would get you anything you want," he whispered, his lips ghosting along yours. "Same goes for both of my kids. Now let's get dinner before we miss the movie."
You tried to pay with your credit card, but this time he shook his head and told you to put it away. The woman was discreet when she ran his card, and then she handed Bradley a bag way bigger than was necessary for two, small rings.
"Is there something for me in the bag besides the wedding band?" you asked, trying to grab it when he led you back outside.
"Maybe," he muttered. "How about you stop asking about it, and I'll buy you some donuts."
Your stomach growled pleasantly at the thought. "Great idea. We can have dessert before dinner and the movie."
Bradley smirked. "And then after the movie, we can have another round of dessert."
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Bradley couldn't get enough of watching you eat your dinner with your hand occasionally pressed to your belly as you chatted away. He wasn't too concerned about the way you'd been overwhelmed to the point of tears a few days ago. You were tired and pregnant and working and busy being a Mom to Noah. Your hormones were changing again after the progesterone shots ended, and he knew it was a lot. Honestly, it was a lot for him to process, too.
But tonight you looked like you always did. Young and perfect and vibrant as you told him a story about something that happened at work. You ate and ate, picking up another piece of garlic bread after you told him you were getting full.
"If you're still hungry, we can always skip the movie," he mused, and you paused as you ran the last bit of bread through the sauce on your plate.
"Oh my goodness," you said, eyes wide. "I didn't know I was basically inhaling my food."
He just shrugged as he said, "Well, you are gaining weight."
A smile found your lips, and then they were twitching before you started laughing. "Wow, Bradley. You got all the smooth lines. It's a wonder none of your app dates were successful."
He hooked your feet with his under the table as you tried to stop laughing. "That was entirely your fault. It had nothing to do with my lines, because I wasn't trying very hard. And you're supposed to be gaining weight."
You were still grinning as you said, "Once again, coming in hot with the seduction."
You were still teasing him when he signed the credit card receipt and stood. He helped you to your feet and said, "Maybe I was just saving all my worst lines to use on you. Make sure you really love me. You ever think of that, Princess?" 
"It worked," you told him. "I actually do love you. And I especially can't wait for you to start wearing your wedding band." You gasped as he held the restaurant door open for you. "What are we going to do for music for the wedding? We don't have a wedding band."
"Oh," he said with a laugh. "I made a playlist." 
 "You made a playlist?"
"Yeah, you wanna hear it while I drive to the movie theater?"
He handed you his phone and let you start up the playlist. The first song was okay. So was the second one. You skipped along a few more songs, and then you looked at him while he drove and said, "It's all your old people music."
"Damn. Who's being rude now?" he laughed. 
"It's just that it's all from the '80s!"
"So am I."
"Bradley! Be so serious!"
"What? You know how old I am."
"I'm adding some things to the playlist, and if I find the Electric Slide in here, I'm deleting it."
Bradley ran his palm across his mouth and said, "There's my little brat."
You sat up straighter in your seat, clearly proud of yourself as you tapped away on his phone screen. It was so hard to surprise you; the way you reasoned through things was exquisite. He should have known you'd call him out on the extra item from the jewelry store, and now you were glancing out the window as he pulled past the movie theater.
"Throwback '80s night?" you said, reading the marquee out loud. "Bradley Bradshaw!"
"Okay, fine," he said, parking and killing the engine. "I'm old, and I like old shit. But really, the movie selection was just for you, Princess."
You turned and looked at the marquee again as it changed to show the retro film of the night. "Adventures in Babysitting!"
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Bradley pulled some of the cash from the spot behind the TV and gave it to Amelia as she collected her belongings. She and Noah made some art projects together which she said were drying on the kitchen table, and once again, she offered to watch him anytime.
"He's the sweetest little guy," she promised as her eyes dipped down to your belly. "But you'll have to pay me more to watch two."
"We can negotiate your rate when the time comes," Bradley said with a laugh while he opened the front door.
"Deal." 
She walked along the path to her parked car, and Bradley made sure it started up before he shut the door. He was turning the lock as he asked, "Did you like the movie?" But then his hand froze when he realized where your fingers were.
"I did," you promised, pulling his jeans zipper down over his considerable bulge. He wasn't even hard yet, but you were already so turned on. "Wanna go on your own adventure? With your former babysitter?"
You weren't subtle as you looked up at him and licked your lips, tugging him gently toward the couch. "If I ever say no to you, then there's something seriously wrong with me," he groaned, letting you pull his jeans and underwear down so his soft length hung out from beneath his shirt. 
When he dropped down onto the cushion, you dragged his jeans down to his calves so he could spread his legs open a little wider. You kissed his tip and he made a soft sound at the back of his throat as he started to get hard. You dragged your hands up and back down his full length, keeping your eyes locked on his. "Hi, Daddy," you whispered before dragging your tongue along the pretty bead of his precum, enjoying the way he throbbed.
"Hi, Princess," he managed as you smiled up at him. His voice sounded strained as you moved slowly and meticulously, stroking him until he was rock hard.
Right before you took him between your lips, you said, "We're getting married." You smiled around his length as he whined your name, and you let him thrust until he tapped the back of your throat. Then you sucked along his length, inch by inch, until he popped free from your lips, and you whispered, "And we're having a baby."
His fingers found your cheek, his skin a little rough against your face as you rested your head on his thigh. Bradley's eyes were glued to yours, watching you with wide pupils as you lazily kitten licked his cock and stroked his balls with your thumb. "You look so pretty like this," he rasped, and you kissed him before continuing with your little licks. "You're gorgeous when you're driving me out of my mind."
You giggled softly, and his cock throbbed against your lips. "I like teasing you."
Bradley grunted, his fingers tipping your chin up as he said, "I can fucking tell. And you can tease me all you want as long as you suck me off in the living room for the rest of my life."
You licked his length and whispered, "I'll put it in my wedding vows." Then he guided your parted lips around his cock again, and he moaned in satisfaction as you took him deep. 
His stamina was commendable like always. You gagged yourself on him over and over until your saliva was dripping down your chin and his balls. You gripped at his thighs as he thrust up to meet you with his fingers gentle on your face. And all the while, he words were sweet in comparison to the rough hairs rubbing your lip and the tears burning your eyes. 
"You're perfect, Baby. Can't get enough. Gonna marry you... my beautiful Princess."
When he finally came, you were sputtering and practically in tears before scrambling up onto his lap as he told you he loved you. Bradley's hands found your belly as you kissed him. 
"I love you too, Daddy," you whispered before he dipped his tongue between your lips to taste himself. Soon you and he would be married. You were pregnant and exhausted and letting him do most of the planning, but it would be great. No matter what happened on your wedding day, it would be perfect. You'd have Bradley and Noah as your family. The baby was healthy. You didn't want to overthink how you belonged here and fit with them. You knew that you did, even when it was hard to see yourself the way Bradley always seemed to. You snuggled against him and said, "I think you're perfect, too."
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I love this family. The next chapter was originally going to be their wedding, but I got some asks about Bradley's bachelor party, and well now I'm intrigued. So there may be one more chapter than I anticipated! If you have DILF Bradley bachelor party thoughts, please let me know. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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dollfacefantasy · 1 day
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Like Lovers Do
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pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader
summary: Bored with the RPD's fundraising banquet, you pull Leon away to have some fun in a storage closet.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, friends with benefits
word count: 2.1k
a/n: the chris and leon drabble is next i swear. i just change my mind like every five seconds lmao. i hope everyone enjoys :) as always, i appreciate all the reblogs and comments <3
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Applause sounds throughout the banquet hall as Leon flashes his awkward smile. He holds up the small, cheap trophy he’d won, the words Rookie of the Year displayed on the plaque at the base. He’s quick to walk away from the microphone and exit the stage, returning to his seat next to you. Your boss takes his place, but your attention is consumed by him.
“Wow. I see how it is. Don’t even mention me in your speech for your prestigious award,” you say in a hushed voice, a grin spreading across your features.
His cheeks tinge pink as his own smile graces your vision. “I did mention you. I said my partner,” he responds, “Plus, don’t act like you really care about these things.”
You roll your eyes playfully. It was true. You didn’t care about the little superlatives the department gave out for entertainment at the annual fundraising banquet. But that wouldn’t stop you from complaining about your loss to Leon and his perceived lack of appreciation for you.
“I do care actually. And I guess that’s true, but it wasn’t very specific,” you say, “If I’d won, I would have mentioned you.”
Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he shakes his head. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, connecting his eyes with yours.
Just seeing him like this was getting you all worked up. He looked as handsome as you’d ever seen him in his suit. You’d also been wanting to ditch this thing for a while now. You’d shown up and said hi to everyone as you were expected to do. Now you’d grown tired of watching your colleagues galavant around with their dates and swap stories from the job.
“Hmmm… well you know. I think I have a way you could make it up to me,” you say, keeping your voice quiet to not catch the attention of anyone sitting near you.
Leon raises an eyebrow, but of course, he knew exactly what you meant. You both were insatiable for one another. That small lilt in your voice alone clued him in. You’d almost conditioned him to pop a boner when he heard it.
“Do you?” he teases back.
“Mhm,” you nod, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh beneath the table, “Follow me in a couple minutes.”
You rise from your seat. You make sure to be quiet and not draw any attention to yourself, but your hands still rest on your stomach, giving the appearance that you’re suffering some sort of sudden illness. You walk away from the tables and over to the hallway doors, the points of your heels softly clicking against the ground as you go.
Once you’re out, you turn back and watch Leon through the little slit of a window in the door. You see him wait for a few minutes and then look around as if he’s concerned for where you’ve gone. Then he rises in the same way you did and makes his way to the same set of doors.
As he opens them, a giggle bursts from your lips and you pull his body against your own. The two of you lean in for a few kisses. “Nice work, superstar. I’m sure the next thing you’ll be winning is an oscar,” you tease.
“Shut up,” he grumbles as that blush grows a little stronger. He nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss before you pull away to walk further down the hall.
The RPD held this event at this place every single year. It was the first for both you and Leon, both freshly graduated. You look around curiously at your surroundings as you head to another door near the ones you’d entered from. You notice the hallway lined with academy graduation photos. Upon closer examination, you spot yourself in the one hanging next to the new door 
“Aww, we look so young here,” you coo, looking at the framed picture of your and Leon’s class. 
A chuckle comes from over your shoulder before you feel him kissing up your neck. “It was only a year ago,” he mumbles.
“Yeah, but you have such a baby face here,” you tease.
“What can I say? A year of working with you has really worn me down,” he replies.
He cracks open the door, and you see inside is just a storage closet. You pull him by the collar of his suit into the small space. He follows eagerly and pushes you up against the wall.
“I’m so sure, Mr. Rookie of the Year,” you taunt, catching him in another kiss.
Your hand slides into his hair, threading through the blonde locks as your lips move with his. Meanwhile, his palms coast up your side, feeling the smooth fabric of your party dress beneath his fingers. His foot knocks into your ankle, a small signal for you to spread your legs.
“Well it’s not so shocking when you consider that I only won because half the time I’m on the job, I’m cleaning up your messes,” he jokes between kisses.
“I think between the two of us, you’re the messy one,” you say back and turn around to deepen the kiss.
His left hand rises to your breast on the same side, squeezing the mound and drawing a tender sigh from you. His right slides down your thigh and lifts your leg by the crux of your knee. He grinds his growing bulge against your panties, a soft moan falling from his lips at the familiar sensation.
This was far from the first time the two of you had done this. It was far from the first time you’d done this with other people only a few rooms away. At work, you’d done it in the bathrooms, the locker room, the dark room, the storage room in the other wing of offices. You’d even done it in Leon’s cruiser once on a boring night. Sometimes it felt surprising you even managed to make it to a secluded place.
You weren’t even fully sure of what you and Leon were to each other. Neither of you had ever put a title on this dance you did. You both let yourselves run on pure lust without much care for fine details. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You’d had a crush on him since your first day in the academy. He’d had you hooked on him since the first time you slept together on the night of your graduation in a drunken hurricane of unfiltered desire.
In your heart, not much had changed since that night. The two of you are still wrapped up in a flurry of kisses as he slowly rocks against you, grunting quietly. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the feeling of your body around his. Lowering his head, he starts kissing your neck again. Your noises are the same volume as his, just a bit whinier.
“We gotta be quick,” you mumble against the side of his head. You drag your nose against his soft tendrils of hair. A shaky breath blows against the side of his head.
“Don’t worry about that, baby. You heard ‘em out there. I get things done fast and efficiently,�� he teases as his lips unlatch from your neck.
The cocky expression on his face only got you hotter. You pull him into a more aggressive kiss, your noses mashing against one another. His breaths fan over your face as his hands tug your panties down to your knees. He then cups both of your legs behind the knees, folding you in half against the wall.
He pins you there with his own weight as he pulls himself out of his pants. His fingers fish a condom out of his pocket and tear the foil quickly before tossing it aside, leaving it for some poor person to find at a later date. You don’t think of that in the moment though. You’re more enraptured with how you can feel the heat of his tip nudging at the wetness between your legs even with the latex barrier between you.
“Put it in,” you whimper and squirm in his grasp. The teasing side of you was fading fast as need took over.
He grins with a mocking look in his eyes, but he obliges you. He slips it in and lets out a deep breath, savoring the way you squeeze around him.
“Think you should’ve won most desperate,” he teases, “Or maybe neediest little slut.”
You go to defend yourself, but all that comes out is a whine. The confident side of him rears its head. It was kind of funny to you how your dynamic would shift once he got you craving his cock. Another mewl escapes you as his hips retract and push forward again.
“What was that? You know I’m right. You couldn’t even wait to get back to your apartment,” he continues.
He begins pumping his hips for real, and all you can get out for a moment are broken whimpers. He fucked you just right, always did. He was blessed with a thick cock that rubbed up against your insides in a way that felt like heaven. Your legs clamp against his sides as your head tilts back against the wall. The thrum of the bass starts vibrating through the cement again, letting you know they had turned on the music again in the other room.
“Fuck Leon…” you breathe before crying out sharply as he rotates his hips to hit your sweet spot.
Your own hand flies to your mouth to cover it and muffle any other noises. He smiles at the sight and kisses your cheek, resting his forehead against your temple.
“That’s right, gotta keep quiet. If anyone walked by and heard, we’d both be getting fucked,” he says and continues rocking the both of your bodies as he thrusts into you.
You nod. Your other arm wraps around him tight to keep yourself supported. You’re starting to sweat, but you can feel that he is too. Fucking fully clothed probably wasn’t the smartest idea either of you had indulged in, but it felt too good for you too honestly care. Your hand slips down of your face as the pleasure takes over a bit more.
“Leon… fuck, I can’t…” you moan softly.
He guides your hand back to your lips before returning his own to your knee to keep you up. His fingers dig into your legs with a bruising grip and he thrusts quicker.
“Yeah? You gonna cum already, baby? That’s pretty fast. Maybe that’s another award you should win,” he pants.
“Shut up,” you mumble against your hand as your hips start involuntarily rolling against his.
Your breasts push up against his chest as your body writhes against the wall. He just keeps going, wanting to work you to the edge you were fast approaching. His shaft slides in and out over and over. You smile as your head spins with the pleasure.
“I feel it coming,” he whispers, “I feel you getting all tight. Just cum for me. Let it out.”
You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the coil inside you snap and moan into the palm of your hand. You buck and bury your head in the crook of his neck. His eyes close, focusing everything he has on his own release. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s attempting to silence his groans against your flesh. His hips jump and his knees quiver for a moment.
He holds inside you for a moment longer, letting the both of you come down before you attempt acting normal again. When that time comes though, he carefully pulls out of you and helps you back onto your feet. Your legs are kind of wobbly, but you maintain your balance. You work on fixing your dress and hair as Leon gets rid of the condom and puts himself back together.
You reach down to pull your panties up, but he stops you, shaking his head and smiling at you.
“Give ‘em to me,” he says.
You stare at him for a moment, in some form of disbelief, but you go with it. You liked the idea just as much as he did. Letting them fall to the floor, you step out of them and then pick them up and place them in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket, smug smirk on his face the whole time.
He then pulls you by your waist for one more kiss. “C’mon, we should go back now. Don’t want anybody thinking we ran off.”
You laugh a little and nod. “We should just run off though,” you say.
“Only a couple more hours and we can. My place or yours, we can go back and replay that all night long,” he says before giving you a smack on the ass and following you back to the hall to return to the party of unknowing guests.
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scribbledghost · 3 days
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Hello hello! I hope you're doing well!
I was wondering how you think a Yautja would react to being gifted a piece of art? I know damn well that I'm too slow-brained and clumsy to hunt anything, so skull trophies are out of the question, but what about spending time making something instead (Be it a drawing, a sculpture, writing, etc)?
Hi i have returned with more yautja after a billion years thank u
I think... they may be confused at first.
Of course, yautja have artists among their ranks - just as every culture does.
But human art sort of throws them at first. After all, most yautja art still incorporates a hunt of some sort. Think "lots of bone sculptures" sort of stuff.
So when you present them with a drawing, sculpture, or writing, they don't initially really realize it for what it is.
They think it's more of a "look what I did" as opposed to a "look what I took time and effort to make especially for you".
But when you explain it to them; that you're not a great hunter, so you wanted to show your appreciation in another way, they sort of start to get it.
It's like when a yautja gets a particular piece of jewelry for a mate - something flashy to show they belong to one another.
If it's a sculpture, they put it in their trophy room among the rest of their treasures.
A drawing? They hang it in their quarters or wherever they tend to spend the most time.
Writing? They memorize it and either recite it to themselves when they're missing you or, if it's a story, they'll tell it to other yautja.
They start to ask for more. Partly as a way to give you something to do while they're off on a hunt, partly because they like having traces of you in their space.
Also, idk if it would be considered in bad taste (probably depends on the yautja), but I think it'd be neat to paint some of their skull trophies. Especially if you paint typical yautja tribal designs on them.
And, bless them, they try to reciprocate. They try to draw for you, to weave stories, to sculpt something.
Let's just say, they're better suited for hunting.
They try their best though. And really, that's all that matters.
Also, they're fiercely protective of the gifts you make them. The other yautja learn pretty quick not to make fun of them or dismiss them.
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auteurdelabre · 1 day
Text
A Little Sun part 6 Dieter!Bravo x f!Reader
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rating: 18+ words: 8.4k pairings: Dieter x f!Reader
tags: pregnancy, details of body changing with pregnancy, insecurity, mention of family death, mutual pining, idiots in love, soft dieter, fluff, lurve, angst, miscommunication trope, female masturbation, male masturbation, dirty talk (thoughts). summary: You move in with Dieter after the fight with your mom and things get... complicated. a/n: Y'all this thing has turned into such a fuckin' beast. Remember when I wanted it to be a one shot? Anyway, we're nearing the end with these two idiots in love but I think this one ends pretty damn sweet.
Also I think I'm in love with Dieter Bravo?
SERIES MASTERLIST
REBLOGS, COMMENTS, ENGAGEMENT ARE WHAT KEEP US FIC WRITERS GOING. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT IF YOU ENJOYED THIS.
Dieter doesn't even let you step fully into his home before he's got you in his arms, wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your suitcases clatter to the floor as you cling to him, burying your face in his neck and fighting back tears. 
"You can stay as long as you want," Dieter promises you as one hand cups the back of your head. "Stay forever."
You give a watery chuckle into his shoulder, not quite ready to let go of him. You only break apart when the smell of European cigarettes wafts into the room. 
You swipe at your damp eyes while Dieter turns to greet the tiny woman with a shock of white curls. She wears an oversized green t-shirt and loose khaki pants. She shuffles from place to place in her oversized moccasins. 
"You remember Magda, right?"
"I think we've met a few times," you say extending your hand. The old woman gives you a look before shuffling over and placing her hand on your belly. You're in too much shock to pull back. 
"A healthy boy," she tells you through a thick Eastern European accent. You and Dieter exchange looks of surprise. 
"Uh yeah," you peer down at her shriveled frame, "How did you know that it was a boy?"
"I can tell."
She says it with a sage nod and then with that revelation she shuffles off to the kitchen, the feather duster still firmly lodged under her bony arm. 
"She's the best," Dieter says says fondly before turning back to you with a look of expectancy. "Lemme show you where you're staying."
He takes both of your suitcase handles and jerks head to the left indicating you should follow. 
You follow him out into his garden beside the pool. A place that you've never really visited much before. Most of your business has been conducted inside in his kitchen or in his office. You've heard about his guest house, how he had so many decorators come in over the years. 
When you enter into it now, you're surprised at just how normal it seems. You were waiting for whips and chains and other strange memorabilia to line the walls. But instead it looks like something out of a Martha Stewart magazine. Crisp White's and Blue wainscotting. Overstuffed chairs and couches surround the coffee table from the photo he sent you. It's strangely tasteful. 
It doesn't suit him at all. 
Dieter must notice your surprise because he smirks before he rolls your suitcases towards the kitchen bar.  
"Remember that Danish woman I dated for a couple months right after you started working for me?"
"Yeah, Lyda something.'
"Right. She wanted to start a career as an interior designer. I let her run the show in this place. Not really my taste."
"Not really mine either," You admit looking around the space. "It is beautifully done but I prefer the place we stayed in Ireland, like, that aesthetic. Old wood and big windows."
"I like that too," Dieter agrees. He sees you yawn and immediately feels guilty for keeping You up after such an emotional day.
"I'm going to have Petra whip you up something for dinner."
Petra is Dieter's chef who stocks his fridge with high end 
"Dieter you don't-"
"You gotta take care of you and little Bravo remember?" 
Dieter feels something in his chest bloom when instead of rolling your eyes you smile at him, nodding. 
"Thanks Dieter."
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You wake up the next morning in the plush duvet with your arms stretched above your head before rolling an absent hand down your swollen belly. 
"Morning little boy," you whisper to the tiny being there beneath your fingertips. You give a groan as you gently roll yourself off the bed sliding into your slippers and pulling on your robe. Despite your devastation of what happened with your mother, waking up in this beautiful space on this gorgeously sunny day has you feeling hopeful.
This feeling is dampened slightly when you glance at your phone, looking to the calendar and seeing a date in the coming week starred. A date you have been dreading for months. Your birthday. The first one of yours since your father passed. Without your mom around this seems especially painful to consider. You close your phone, not wanting to think about it.
You spot a tall figure out the window and feel your cheeks flush. Something has shifted since Ireland. Something that terrifies you. The whisper of feelings that you're having a hard time repressing when you think of how he supports you. 
But you push it from your mind. Your worlds don't match up.  You’re serious, you take life seriously, you want to dedicate yourself to science. Dieter wants to fuck and party and grab life by the balls.
Plus he's with Mia and she makes him happy. 
Dieter saunters across the backyard, narrowly missing the pool as he heads to the guest house. He's wearing an old t-shirt and sweatpants under tattered robe, his eyes hidden behind his sunshades. He's carrying a tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a smoothie in the other.  
"Dieter it’s ten in the morning," you say as you open the sliding door to greet him. 
"I'm still on Ireland time," he says giving you a waggle of his brows before setting the pale
pink smoothie down on the kitchen counter. "Breakfast when you're ready for it." 
He sees you eyeing the smoothie warily and gives a deep rumbling chuckle. 
"Petra made this one so you're safe. You like strawberries right?"
You take a tentative sip, before giving a soft moan of approval and drinking down the rest. 
He rocks back on his heels a moment and despite the dark of his glasses, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. 
"So... What're you up to today, Bravo?"
"You mean you don't know?"
"I'm officially no longer part of team Bravo remember?" You remind him with a sad chuckle as you place the empty glass back on the counter. "Diane cut my access to work emails and calendars." 
"Shit that's right, I forgot." He looks at you with such a guilty expression. "I'm sorry."
"S'okay. I'm looking at this like a real non working vacation," you tell him honestly pointing out the window. "I figure you have a pool, there's a chef, a housekeeper, I brought books, what more could I ask for?"
"Plus you have a recreation staff," Dieter grins, taking you by the hand and twirling you gently towards him. "Dance lessons by the pool, movie nights, anything the customer wants."
"Hmmm an end to global warming?"
"Sorry that's only with the premium package."
You let out a loud laugh as Dieter joins you, spinning you into a hug. His mouth is only inches from yours and when the two of you realize this your mutual laughter ebbs. 
Dieter wants nothing more than to press his mouth to yours, to taste you, to fuck you here in his home. But he knows it's not what you want. You don't want that from Dieter. You want somewhere safe to stay and he'll provide that to you.
Besides there is someone who does want his affection, his touch: Mia. 
You swallow, your body poised and mouth slowly tilting towards Dieter before he seems to realize himself. He slowly extricates his arms from around you before reaching into his robe pocket, clearing his throat. 
"Here's the key," Dieter tells you, holding it out to you. You take it, looking at the tiny Jameson keychain on it. The one that matches the one Dieter got you in Ireland that you wear on your own keychain. You smile at the sight of it before looking puzzled.
"A key?"
"For the guest house."
"I don't need to lock it," you chide even as you take it from him and toss it into your purse. "It's just you and me here right?"
"Yeah," Dieter hides the broad of his grin behind his whiskey glass. "Just you and me."
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For the next several days Dieter tries to give you as much space as possible. He brings you a smoothie every morning citing that Magda is too busy. In the evenings he texts you to invite you over to the big house for dinner. Sometimes you join him, sometimes you’re just too tired.
You always go back to the guest house feeling a little bit down. You didn’t realize you missed sleeping in the same house, how Ireland made it almost feel like living together. Dieter’s place is so large it’s like you’re in separate neighborhoods.
Dinners are starting to be hard as well. Knowing you’ll be leaving to go back to the empty guest room. It’s a luxury, that’s for certain with its tall ceilings and plush bed. But it feels quiet without Dieter’s music or loud laughter.
And so you can admit to yourself that every morning he comes by with the pink smoothie and a big grin, your heart leaps a little bit. Like now, seeing him rushing over more frenzied than usual. He smiles, pushing the drink into your hand hurriedly.  
“Here. Drink fast, I finished the nursery and want you to come look.”
“When did you have time to do the nursery?” You ask amazed as you follow him to the main house, smoothie almost drained by the time you reach his place. 
“I’ve been in touch with this guy Diora from Albania over email since Ireland. He’s all the rage, super hard to get but he was really excited about trying his hand at a nursery. He just finished Criss Angel’s man cave and James Franco’s bedroom.”
Dieter sweeps a hand to the middle of your back, guiding you down the hall. When he opens the door with a flourish it takes everything in you not to gasp in horror. Your hand still rises to your mouth, though when you step into the room.
It looks like a sex dungeon.
Black and white striped walls, a beautifully ornate crib painted a ghastly red. 
"Contrasting colors are good for baby’s retinas," Dieter says confidently. "I read it somewhere."
It takes you a few moments of staring at everything before you can speak.
"You have whips hung on the walls."
"Those are vintage skipping ropes," Dieter tells you aghast at your misunderstanding. You turn slowly, taking everything in. Finally you shake your head slowly.  
"Dieter, this is totally inappropriate for a nursery," you say. "What baby would be happy here?" 
Dieter takes a moment to glance around the space, his previous elation dimming with every word from you. 
"This is what Diora suggested. He's the hottest designer right now."
"Of millionaire bachelor pads," you say as you look at a particularly ugly piece of metal hanging from the ceiling. "Not for a baby’s room."
"I'm not gonna have some tacky nursery with stuffed bears and shit,” Dieter defends. “I can't do it. Anyone who comes over and sees that'll think I've lost my edge."
The thought of being a father is immensely appealing to Dieter. The thought of being a loser Dad is not.
“Mia said it was cool,” Dieter shoots out. “I sent her photos.”
Mia is also in her early twenties, you want to snap. But you hold your tongue, trying to see the upsides to this nursery. Unfortunately you can see none. Everything is a safety hazard.
Dieter paces around the room, suddenly sour at the whole thing. He thought you’d be excited to see where the baby will be. Instead you’ve come in with your judgments and frowning face.
"Please let me... Dieter let me help you with this," you almost beg. "I just.... I know he's not mine but I can't stand the thought of him being in this... Baby prison."
I know he's not mine. 
This hurts Dieter to hear it. He knows that you face no interest in being in this baby's life or his the week after you've given birth. But he can admit he's fooled himself with you being here.
But this? This is a project the two of you can work on. A potential to have more reason to have you in the house, not in that fucking guest house. He can only think of so many reasons to knock on your door apart from smoothies. 
"Okay, sure."
“Okay,” you say looking relieved. “How about a pale blue or green? Then we can get a nice crib and some rugs and gauzy curtains.”
“That’s so boring.”
“And safe,” you emphasize. “You have to think of his safety, Dieter.”
Dieter pouts slightly in thought, trying to see the nursery through your eyes. He has to concede that perhaps this is a bit much for a newborn.
"Actually, you know what would look really beautiful on this far wall here?" You muse, looking at the space. "That painting you bought me for my birthday."
You think of the artwork hanging in your bedroom. The one of the woman looking out over the ocean, her hair whipping in the sea air. It’s the one thing you didn’t bring from home that you regret. There was something about that painting that made you feel relaxed.
"I didn't buy you that," Dieter says with a furrowed brow. 
Your stomach sinks at this admission from Dieter and you wish you could take back everything. The intimacy of the moment, the vulnerability. He never even fucking bought the thing himself. Diane probably did and here you are pouring your heart out about it. 
"Oh, uh-Or Diane or whoever-"
"I painted it for you."
All the animosity that had been brewing behind your sternum drains from you. A smile blooms immediately, your body tingling as you roll onto your side to fully face him. 
"You did?"
"Yeah," Dieter is smirking at you from the shadows. "I love painting. You think I'd buy you a fucking painting?"
“I think I just assumed that you got Diane or whoever to ship it to me." 
"Maybe if you were someone else," Dieter muses, his gaze wandering around the nursery. "Someone who doesn't do everything for me." He falls silent a moment. "You really thought I bought it?"
"Yeah."
"Didn't you think it was weird that the girl in the painting was you?"
Now you're stunned and it must show on your face because Dieter is chuckling softly now. 
"You've had it hanging up your room for how long? Did you even look at it?"
"Of course I did, I do," you say in a rush, feeling embarrassed. You look at it every night you’re in your bedroom. "I just ... I never thought..."
"What?"
"I never thought you saw me."
Dieter blinks back at you, his dark eyes searching your face. 
"I just mean you never even said thank you before this whole baby thing," you explain. "I've worked for you for a while and you kinda just expected I'd be at your beck and call all hours of the day and night, even on my days off."
"I'm sorry," Dieter whispers. "That was shitty of me."
"Why do you do it? 
“I went through so many assistants I just assumed you wouldn’t be sticking around long.” Dieter looks ashamed as he says it out loud.  “But then the longer you stayed the more I depended on you. I think… After a while I think it just felt weird to not message you.”
You both lapse into a thoughtful silence.
“You’ll manage just fine without me when I leave,” you tell him, needing him to know. “And if you’re ever feeling really lost and like you just need to talk to someone, you can always call me. Not as an employee, but as a friend.”
“Really? We’re friends?”
“Yeah,” you nod, heart hammering. “Friends.”
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Dieter wakes up hard every morning for the next two weeks. He doesn't try to; he actively tries to think of other things before he goes to sleep. He watches documentaries, he reads art books, he meditates. He tries to push you from his thoughts so he can wake up normal. 
But he always wakes up aching with the head of his cock weeping, flickering remnants of his dreams still floating around his subconscious. And those dreams are always of you.
Today he wakes up with the memory of his dream still lingering. You on your knees, his cock in your mouth and your eyes heavy lidded. As he shifts in bed Dieter realizes his boxers are sticky with previous release. A fucking nocturnal emission? How old is he?
And what's worse is that he's still fucking hard. Throbbing, actually He groans low in his throat and tries to ignore it.
You're here at his home. You're practically living with him. You're only a few steps from his back door. You're so close and yet so frustratingly far from him. He misses being in the same home as you, like the rental in Ireland. He misses the feeling of coming home after a long day on set and seeing your sweet face on the couch.
He wants that again. 
Dieter rolls onto his belly to try and squash his current erection against the mattress. But that doesn't help, it just gives a delicious friction. He shifts again experimentally, groaning at the shiver that travels from the base of his spine to the tip. In his sleepy arousal he imagines that it's not the mattress but you that he's fucking. 
"You like that?" Dieter murmurs, eyes closed as he rocks against his bed. "Like feeling me like that, baby?"
He pushes his hips into the bed, starting to rut when the pleasure increases.
You're so big, Dieter. 
And suddenly he's thrusting against it, picturing your body writhing under him. 
Need it, Dieter. Fuck me harder. 
"Yes," Dieter groans into his pillow, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress. He thrusts furiously into the soft fabric of the bed, hips bouncing up and down on the mattress. 
Need your big cock, daddy, your dream self moans. Need it deep. 
"Fuck yes, baby. Take Daddy's cock. Take it and-"
His phone chirrups loudly on the table next to him, breaking him from the immersive fantasy. 
A name and photo flash up on the screen. 
Mia. 
Immediately he feels guilty. Here he is humping his mattress to thoughts of you as his gorgeous, talented, funny, sexy girlfriend is calling. 
He breathes rapidly through his nose, slowing his grinding movements. He rolls over in the bed, reaching for the phone. 
"Hey babe," Dieter says, panting as he answers. He flips onto his back, willing his cock to go down. 
"You okay? You sound like you've been exercising and I know that can't be true."
Dieter barks a laugh at that. He's about to reply when he hears a splash outside his window. Mia starts chatting in his ear but he's completely taken with the view outside his window. 
You're in a bikini, gliding through the clear water of his pool. Dieter feels his mouth run dry at the sight, especially when you roll over onto your back, your belly protruding from the water like a beacon. Your hair dances around your head, your eyes closed, face tilted towards the sun. You have the sweetest little smile on your face. 
You're so fucking beautiful. 
"Dee? You there?"
"Huh? Yeah, sorry babe what?"
"I wanted to know how you're getting on? I've been staying off socials for the last little bit of the shoot trying to stay focused. I finally saw the photos from the airport. How is the poor thing holding up?"
"Stressed, but better."
"She must be happy to be at home away from all that madness."
Dieter feels his stomach clench. He knows he has to be honest with Mia, she's his girlfriend, she deserves to know. And yet he hesitates because he knows how it sounds. 
"She's staying in my guest house, actually," Dieter offers in what he hopes is a nonchalant voice. 
The warmth from Mia's voice is immediately gone. 
"Pardon me?" 
"She's, uh, in my guest house for the time being," Dieter adds, closing his eyes and bracing himself. 
Mia shuffles on the other end before her voice reaches out to him confused. 
"I thought you wanted a relationship with me, Dieter. Otherwise why did your agent go to so much trouble to confirm it? To do a splashy roll-out?"
"I do want it."
"But you have the employee you got pregnant living with you?"
"Not with me. In the guest house." 
"This is weird, Dee." 
He hears the concern in her voice and he feels his stomach drop. He doesn't want to lose Mia. 
"Her mom kicked her out," Dieter explains quickly. "What was I supposed to do?"
"Pay for a hotel?"
The answer is so clear, so obvious. Why didn't he offer a hotel? He has the money. Why had it been so important for him to have you here? 
Because then he could see you every day.
The answer is immediate but he won't admit it. Not now. 
"The paps have been relentless," Dieter says finally. "They'll camp out outside of wherever I put her up. Not like here where I know she's safe away from the public eye."
"But-"
"She's not like us, Mia," Dieter insists. "She doesn't want fame and all that shit. She's just a regular person who's pregnant and alone. Her mom kicked her out, she's got no one else."
He can almost hear Mia softening over the phone. 
"It's just hard, Dee," she says finally. "Especially when I haven't seen you in weeks."
Dieter feels a flutter of panic at how sad she sounds. He wants to make it up to her and has a great idea of how. 
"Prague!" 
Dieter bursts out with this, wincing when he hears how loud he is. 
"Sorry, what?" 
"What do you think about Prague?" Dieter corrects himself, rubbing nervously at his beard. "You're flying to LA next week for our magazine spread, right?"
"Yeah."
"And you've always wanted to go to Prague, right?"
"Yes."
"So let's do it. After the shoot let's get away from everyone and everything for a few weeks just us two."
"You'd really want to do that?"
"Of course." 
He hears Mia weighing the choice on the other end of the line. He holds his breath until he can almost hear her smile.  
"Okay Dee, let's do it."
“Amazing,” Dieter says grinning. “I’ll get Diane to send you the details. See you next week.”
He hangs up quickly, undressing and pulling on his swim trunks.
You’re floating on your back, sunglasses on your face, your body most submerged in the cool water. You hear the sound of a door opening and crack one eye open to see Dieter approaching.
Dieter never uses his pool. He got the house on a whim and didn’t even notice it had a pool until he officially moved in. But right now seeing your tits overflowing out of your bikini cups has him so utterly thankful to his former self.
He shrugs off his robe, sliding into the chilly water with an exaggerated brrrr. He swims over to you, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose.
“Looked so refreshing I had to join.”
“It’s so nice,” you sigh, your arms and legs out as you soak up the sun and enjoy the lack of strain on your lower back. “I never want to get out.”
Dieter paddles near you for a moment, wanting to remember this moment before he recalls his conversation with Mia.
“Well you’ll have the place to yourself the next couple of weeks.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Mia and I are going to Prague like you suggested.”
“That’s so great," you say with a tightness in your voice. “When do you leave?”
“Next Thursday.”
Next Thursday.
Dieter stars to drone on about how Mia has all these restaurants and museums she wants to go to but all you can think of is that you’ll be alone on your birthday. The first one since your father passed. No mother to turn to. Nothing. You’ll be completely alone.
A sudden flutter begins in your abdomen and you give an absent smile, hand slowly sliding over your stomach.
Well, not completely alone.
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From where you stand in your guest house kitchen you can see into the main house. Specifically into the dining room. At night when the landscape is dark and the lights are on inside you can see it very clearly.
Like tonight.
You can see him pacing inside the house, his tall frame gesticulating wildly. He's obviously going over some lines. He asked you to have dinner and run through them but you’d texted back some feeble excuse.
The truth is you need to separate yourself as much as possible from Dieter because you’re convinced that what you’re starting to feel can’t be explained away by hormones. This desire to be with him.
But he’s leaving with Mia in a few short days on some whirlwind romantic escape. You even showed him the best way to pack his fucking suitcase! The sight of a box of condoms at the bottom of it hidden by the toiletries bag made your throat tighten.
Despite this your eyes sail over to Dieter’s house again, watching him make a note on his script before running through the lines. He looks so sexy when he does it, totally lost in the moment. It reminds you of the character he played in Ireland.
Fuck, that insatiable need is coursing through your body again. The hormones kicking into overdrive as you feel your thighs press together at the memory of Dieter and that regency costume. He looked so good in it. You can almost hear his husky voice in your ear. 
It's okay if you want it, baby. Lemme give it to you. 
You throw yourself into your plush bed, your hands sliding down under your panties and working frantically against your straining clit. 
Uh huh. Just like that. Gotta come on my fingers before you get this cock. 
You throw your head back, thighs squeezing as you rut against your fingers. This phantom Dieter plays in your mind, his husky voice full of dark, delicious promise. 
Gonna fuck such pretty sounds out of you. 
"Dieter," you groan, unable to help yourself. It's pathetic how quickly and easily your orgasm overtakes you. It leaves you shuddering and whimpering, rutting into your fingers and then finally collapsing back as you stare at the ceiling.
What the fuck are you doing?
Despite everything Dieter is still your boss in some ways. He’s still the man paying you to have a child. Yes, he’s sort of a friend, but at the end of the day he still holds some authority over you. 
You wish that last thought didn’t turn you on so much.
You’re still groaning when you hear the light tap of knuckles on glass and you jerk up in your bed, face flushed.
You wipe your damp hand on the sheets before slowly stumbling out of the bedroom. Dieter is standing there at the glass door, giving you a stiff wave. You move quickly, tugging the door open. The sound of cicadas and LA night traffic punctuate the formerly peaceful space.
“Is everything okay?”
“I’m really sorry to come over here so late but Magda just told me when she was cleaning this place this afternoon she saw a roach.”
“What?”
Immediately you’re moving towards him, glancing behind you in disgust. Your eyes sweep the floor and counters for any trace. Strange, you haven’t noticed anything and this place is kept perfectly clean.
“Yeah,” Dieter nods, looking tense. “So I gotta get this place fumigated ASAP.”
“Of course.”
“But the fumes are bad for the baby so you’ll have to move your stuff into the main house until it’s finished.”
“For how long do you think?”
“Dunno,” Dieter shrugs, motioning to the room airily. “I was gonna call a guy in the morning to get some quotes. Might be a couple weeks before they can get someone out here.”
A couple weeks? Dieter has enough money to have the place fumigated tonight if he really wanted to. You gaze up at Dieter about to say as such when you see the searching nature of his eyes and suddenly the shoe drops.
There’s no roach.
You note the tense way he rubs his fingers together, the way his brows rise and eyes go owlish the longer you stare at him.
“I’m terrified of roaches,” you finally tell him as you start to throw your stuff into your suitcases. “Can I move my stuff in tonight?”
“Would be the safest,” Dieter nods exaggeratedly helping you to pack. It takes no time at all before he’s helping you carry the suitcases across the yard and into his home.
The guest room is just as nice as the guest house with tall ceilings but slightly less homey. Dieter prefers marble floors and gold accents. Things he was taught as a child meant rich. The bed is lovely, but minimalist. You are however very impressed with the large bathtub and even bigger rain forest shower.  You put your suitcases to the side, feeling Dieter watch you from the doorway.
“It’s still early you wanna watch a doc or something?”
You bite back the delighted smile that threatens to bleed over your features before you turn to face him.
“Sure.”
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“Okay, you got your passport, the tickets are on your phone, your bags are packed,” the young man’s reedy voice lists off things from his checklist as the three of you stand in the kitchen the following week. Dieter is sitting on one of the stools dressed nicely and looking nervously from the paper to you, completely ignoring Rupert.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go.”
“Dieter.”
“What if you go into labor?”
“Almost three months early?” you force a laugh from where you stand by the fridge. “Then we have bigger issues than you not being here. Now c’mon. Mia’ll be here any second.”
Today is the photo spread for the movie Mia and Dieter starred in. It’ll run late so the lovebirds have decided on spending the night in a fancy hotel before shuttling off to Prague the next day. Dieter is always nervous about trips away but he realizes this is especially daunting since he’ll have no PA with him.
Diane has sent him someone new over during the week. A young man with bloodshot eyes and a nervous countenance named Robert or Roger. Dieter can’t remember. All he knows is that the kid does his job decently but he isn’t you.
But he promised himself that he would plan this trip for he and Mia. He researched the restaurants and hotels with her and booked it all. He got them the best seats in the plane and the nicest suite in the hotel.
But all he can think is that he’s going to be away from you for two weeks. Away from his son nestled safely in your body.  
“I made a new tape for him,” Dieter says, suddenly snapping. He reaches into his pocket and slides the tape towards you. “Make sure he listens.”
“Yes, yes,” you say rolling your eyes.
The doorbell rings and Rupert immediately goes to answer it leaving you and Dieter alone. He watches you peering into the fridge trying to find something to satisfy your current craving of salty vanilla pudding.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
His voice is a quiet hum. Your mouth tries to form the words but all you can think of is Dieters warm eyes, his hands caressing your belly, the sweet timbre of his voice when he reads to you when you can’t sleep. 
“I’m going to be okay,” you promise him softly as you glance over to him. “Now go say hello to your girlfriend.”
Dieter nods resolutely before bolting around the corner to see Mia. You hear his excited greeting and you try not to feel upset. Instead you dig around in the cupboard for something salty. You hear your name being called and you turn to see Dieter and Mia entering the room.
Mia’s eyes go round with shock at seeing you waddle towards her. You give a bright smile, despite the pang that goes through you at the sight of them hand-in-hand.
"Oh wow," Mia says when you waddle into the room holding a bag of chips. 
"Weird right?"
"A little," she laughs. You join in, knowing how strange this entire scenario is. You feel like a baby hippo meanwhile Mia looks like she just stepped off the runway.
“So nice to see you,” she says, giving you an awkward hug as she avoids the bump. “I brought a little something for the baby,” she hands a wrapped gift to Dieter, “and one for you.”
Dieter unwraps the package, bringing out a first edition copy of Winnie the Pooh. Your eyes widen at the sight. That must have cost her a fortune.
“Thanks babe,” Dieter says warmly, kissing her. You look away, unwilling to watch and unwrap your gift from Mia which turns out to be a delicate crystal flower vase. Arguably one of the most useless things on the planet since you hate flowers. Dieter knows this and you think you catch a curl of amusement in his face.
“You didn’t have to do this,” you falter.
“I know,” she says sweetly. “I just saw it and thought of you.”
“It’s beautiful,” you say, careful not to exchange amused looks with Dieter across the room. You shoot a soft smile at Mia. “Thank you so much. I’ll go pop it in my room so it doesn’t get broken. Magda tends to be a little chaotic when she cleans.”
You turn, about to go down the hallway to the bedroom when you feel something like tension in the room. You don't know why you pause but you do.
"I thought you were staying in the guest house?" She asks you but her eyes are scanning Dieter’s face.  
“She was,” Dieter explains, hoping his cheeks aren’t red. “But there were roaches.”
Mia’s face scrunches. “Roaches?”
“Yeah,” you finally fumble, rubbing absently at your stomach. "The guest house needed to be fumigated and that’s not safe for the baby. That’s the only reason I’m in the guest room. I’ll be out in the guest house as soon as the fumigation is over."
Mia nods, but you don't miss the lingering look there in her light eyes.
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With Dieter in Prague for the next few weeks you have a lot of free time to yourself. The only problem is you have no one to spend it with. You can't be seen in public now without a bodyguard save for your short walks through Dieter's Calabasas neighborhood. Phone calls with your mom are no longer an option. So you spend most of your time scrolling through social media, watching movies and swimming.
Dieter has always been annoying but he's the kind of annoying that brings you comfort now. Without his loud presence in the house you start to feel lonely. A strange feeling you've never really experienced due to your busy lifestyle. 
It makes you long for the sound of Dieter's record player in the art room. Makes you long for his brash laughter during a funny commercial. Makes you long for the way your voices worked against one another when practicing lines, the sound of him muttering to himself when he reads something that interests him in the paper, the way he rasps your name when he’s just woken up.  
All the sounds of Dieter that you realize have come to be their own comforting symphony to you. 
But he’s with Mia and that's how it should be. They're on the same level. And you know that these feelings are from your hormones. This warmth will fade the second this child is taken from you and is likely contributing to this lonely feeling that arises with you each empty morning.
He’s only been gone four days but those days seem to stretch into eternity. Your mind is usually so full and your schedule packed. But you’re almost annoyingly free right now. Dieter has made only one request of you and that is to update the app every day at least once. He says it makes him feel less guilty about leaving, even though you're the one who encouraged it.
So you do.
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29 weeks
Cravings
SALT
Vanilla
pie filling
chips
peanuts
Missing
the ability to see my feet
Baby is size of butternut squash
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The only thing that tethers you to Dieter are the sporadic text messages he sends you. Where you once found his constant need to stay in touch annoying, now you crave his random messages, re-reading them with a smile.
[1:44pm] D: I hate not speaking Czech. I feel like everyone is making fun of me and I have no proof. [1:44pm]: You're being paranoid.  [1:44pm] D: I'm not!!! [1:46pm] D: Okay maybe a little. Mia and I did an edible.  [1:46pm]: Dieter! [1:46pm] D: Diane said no hard drugs! Edibles are natural. 
You roll your eyes. 
[1:47pm]: Whatever. Hope you're having fun. 
You wish you could see his face when you recall Mia's instagram. You forgot you follow her. The second you click on her story you wish you hadn't. It's her and Dieter in a gorgeous spot in Prague chatting with the caption: Czech us Out! @BravoitsDieter
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Your loneliness hits you on the fifth day quite acutely. And instead of turning to television or swimming you lay on your back in bed and stare up into the ceiling before your fingers fumble for your phone and you type hurriedly.
[6:08am]: I think he has your hair. [6:12am] D: Huh? What?? Why? [6:12am]: They say if the mother has lots of heartburn then the kid will have lots of hair. Right now I feel like my heart has been dropped in acid.  [6:13am] D: No way. I thought babies were always bald. [6:13am]: Not always. I wasn't. Were you? [6:13am] D: Dunno. Never saw baby photos of myself.  [6:14am]: Why not? [6:14am] D: My mom cared about stuff like that. When she died my dad just put everything in the attic and tried to forget. 
You didn't know that about Dieter. You've heard snatches of information from other staff that Dieters dad is a low life, but to not save photos of your kid? That seems cruel. 
[6:14am]: I'm sorry. [6:15am] D: NP. [6:15am] D: Mia is taking me to a museum so I gtg ttyl
You frown at the phone.
"What a bitch," you murmur before stopping yourself. You think about how your baby can probably hear sounds outside the womb now and you feel guilty.
"No, actually, she's not a bitch. She's really lovely and she's so good for your dad."
Your hands drift over your belly slowly, subconsciously as you speak and soon your eyes follow suit. 
"Strange to think you're just in there all snuggly," you tell your belly with amusement. You gasp when you think you can feel a slight flutter within you abdomen. 
"Is that you?" You wonder aloud. "Can you hear me?" 
The fluttering continues and you feel something in you shift. Your heart squeezes pleasantly.  He rarely moves around for just you. It seems he's most active when Dieter is nearby.
"You're really in there," you laugh to yourself. "And you can hear me."
The lonely feelings begin to dissipate. You're not alone - you have your son to keep you company. You talk to him through the day. You make jokes about bubble having Dieters hair. You talk to Bubble about the book you read on the porch. When you watch a documentary you narrate for the baby. 
You update the app with a cheerful photo of you making a heart over the bellybutton with your fingers. You think Dieter will get a kick out of it. 
When you go to bed you put the headphones over your belly and hit play on the walkman.
"This is a new one from your Dad," you tell your belly wryly as you position the foam on either side of your bump. "So I apologize now if it's fucking annoying."
With a serene smile you go to sleep with his muffled voice against your skin. And when you wake up on the sixth day you feel good. It's not until you look at the calendar that you're reminded of Friday's date.
Your birthday. 
The first one without your father. It makes your stomach drop. 
As if all of California has gotten the memo the day is grey and drizzly. You spend most of the day napping and eating whatever Petra has put together. But by mid afternoon you’re feeling restless. You try walking around the block, but the weather drives you back inside. You try to distract yourself but nothing seems to work.
Petra and Magda have gone home for the day. It’s just you and bubble and right now it feels like it’s just you. You decide to order a pizza for dinner, and as you wait for your Hawaiian Delight to arrive you can’t help but reach out to the one person you wish was here.
[5:48pm]: How is Prague? [5:50pm] D: Boring. [5:50pm]: Only you would say Prague is boring, Dieter. [5:51pm] D: In the airport now. Gonna go to Germany for a couple days. Mia really wants to see Cologne Cathedral and apparently they’re doing some once-in-a-decade tour event thing. I dunno. How’s the bubble? [5:51pm]: Still here.
You don’t know why you’re both still calling him Bubble. The tabloids have made it impossible not to be aware that you’re pregnant after all. But there’s something sweet about referring to him as your little Bubble.
[5:52pm] D: airport is so fucking noisy and I'm so tired. found coffee though.
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[5:52pm]: Make sure not to drink too much. You won’t sleep on the plane. [5:52pm] D: U didn’t update the app today. [5:53pm]: Sorry, been distracted. [5:53pm] D:??? [5:53pm] D: How come?
You have no desire to get into this over text. Besides it’s not Dieters problem, it’s yours. And it’s not a problem it’s just. . . life.
[5:55pm]: Doesn’t matter. Here, this will have to do.
You attach a picture of your hand over your swollen bump and send it over.
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You’re surprised when you see Dieter calling.
“Hello?”
“Why are you distracted?”
“Dieter don’t you have better things to do than call me about this?” You say rolling your eyes, but still delighted to be hearing his raspy voice. “Aren’t you in the airport?”
“Yeah.”
“Isn’t Mia with you?”
“She went to get another magazine for the flight. You gonna tell me what’s going on? Is it the Bubble?”
“No,” you say grunting as you lean back against the sofa.  
“Then what is it?”
“It’s nothing. I’m fine!”
“Cmon,” Dieter cajoles. “You know I’m just gonna keep calling and texting until you tell me.”
“Its pregnancy brain,” you throw out, hoping this will satiate him.
“Liar. Your voice always does that clipped thing when you lie.”
You can’t help but feel a small smile cross your features. You hear the distant boarding call for his flight and you decide you might as well tell him. It’s not like he doesn’t already know that your dead is dead.
“It’s just… It’s my birthday. The first one since my dad died and ...."
You trail off. You hear silence on the other end of the phone and then a soft fuck.
“Dieter?”
“I thought it was next month,” Dieter is murmuring and you can hear him tapping on the phone. “Fucking calendar. Fuck. I thought it was next month same day. That’s what I have it as. Fuck. This is why I don’t program my own fucking electronics. Fuck.”
“Nope. Today,” you clarify, amused at how frazzled he sounds. “But it’s not your problem. It’s just this is my first birthday without my Dad and, my Mom isn’t talking to me and I realized I’ve worked so hard so long I have no real friends and…. It’s just…”
You break off when you feel tears starting.
“Anyway, not your problem,” you say forcing your voice up an octave. “I’m only telling you because you asked. I hope you and Mia enjoy your trip! I can’t wait to see photos.”
“Hey, wait-“
“I gotta go,” you say, brushing the stray tears that have escaped. “Pizza guy is here. Bye!”
You hang up the phone and then place it on silent. You don’t want to talk with him anymore. You don’t want to talk with anyone. You just spoke to Dieter but that doesn't stop you from missing him. It gets to the point where you pull up old interview footage with him on YouTube just so you can hear his voice and see his smile. 
When the pizza arrives you pay the guy delivering it, but then you just shove the box in the fridge. You take a shower, letting the tears mingle with the steamy droplets before pulling on a new nightdress. You grab the walkman and headphones, about to put them on when you pad t the kitchen for a glass of water.
You walk back, about to retire to your guest room, walking past Dieter’s bedroom. You’ve rarely ever been inside it and never when he isn’t at home. But something about today compels you into it, something make you push open the door and walk to his bed.
The room is recently cleaned by Petra, the bed freshly made, the floors sparkling, his clothing put away. The fireplace is off but you switch it on, noticing his tattered green robe freshly washed and hanging on the back of the bedroom door. You don’t even think about it, you just pull it on over your sleep dress and stumble into his bed.
Dieter’s bed is so comfy, even better than the one in his guest house and room. You curl under the sheets, burying your face in his pillow. It smells like his expensive shampoo and the cologne he sometimes wears. It brings tears to your eyes. 
You wish he was here. 
You turn onto your back, tummy swollen and resting heavily. It makes you long for Dieter in all aspects. Not just to fuck, but to spend time with. He's so different from anyone you know. He doesn't follow rules or social norms. But when you're with him you feel calm and not judged. It makes you feel like you can let go. 
"Your daddy really is wonderful," you murmur to your belly, stroking it. "You might hear bad stuff but you need to know what a good heart he has. He's so generous and funny and he loves so deeply. You're not even here yet and he's so in love with you." 
You look at the walkman resting beside you, and instead of putting it around your abdomen something inspires you to put the headphones on yourself. You’ve never listened to the message before but tonight you do.
You slip the cheap foam over your ears, rewinding the tape and smiling when his voice sounds out over the tape.
“Hey little Bravo, this is your dad speaking. I just found out you’re gonna be a boy. Woah. My son. Uh, I need you to know that you are so special and that when you’re born we’re gonna have so much fun. I’ve already made a list of places we’re gonna go. And-“
It goes on like this for several minutes with Dieter excitedly detailing all his future plans for he and his son. You hang onto every word, enraptured with the life he has in store for his son. You imagine a future with Dieter holding a baby with his same wild hair. And in this future you see him reach for a woman, but she isn’t you. It’s Mia, and she looks so happy with them. The perfect family.
Dieter’s voice draws you back in.
“You need to know that your Mom loves you just as much as me. I watch her patting you and whispering to you all the time. She told me last week that you were the size of a head of cauliflower. Then she started humming a song about her cauliflower son.”
You laugh out loud at the memory of you swimming a few weeks ago humming a tune about a cauliflower son. You didn’t even realize Dieter was paying attention.  You turn your attention back to the recording.
“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so so much. I’m so excited to meet you.”
You stop the tape, rewinding it.
“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”
You sniffle, rewinding the tape again.
“I just want you to know how much I love you. I love you so much.”
Again.
“I love you so much.”
Again and again you rewind to hear that section. And as you finally drift off into sleep it’s to the gentle sound of the man you desire whispering how much he loves you.
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Dieter arrives at home late, toeing off his sneakers as he yawns, scratching his belly before heading for his bedroom. The suitcase is left at the front door, tomorrow’s problem. He’s exhausted from the flight and he needs to get some sleep before he talks to you tomorrow morning.
He opens the door to his room, preparing to throw himself into bed when he notices the fireplace is on. He pauses, seeing you in your bed lying on your side sleepily soundly. A small smile curls onto his lips when he sees the bright yellow walkman in your hand, fingers loosely around it. What strikes him is that you're wearing the headphones; you don't have them around your belly. 
Dieter is quiet, looking down at your peaceful sleeping face illuminated by your bedside table. One of your hands is splayed over your belly protectively and this makes him smile. He gently pulls the earphones from off your head, sliding the walkman from your grip and placing both on his nightstand. 
He figures he’ll sleep in the guest room tonight, musing that you’re playing musical beds tonight.
You murmur something sleepily, something be doesn't catch. He takes a minute longer to look at you and then his face hovers over yours. He kisses you softly, an innocent press of his lips to yours. 
"G'night baby mama."
You shift partly awake, arms reaching out to wrap around his neck. He grins, allowing himself to get pulled into the bed next to you. You’re so warm. You don't say anything; you just snuggle up against him, face nuzzling against his neck. 
"Go back to sleep, baby," Dieter tells your sleepy frame. "Just turning the light off."
He presses a ginger kiss to your temple before his free hand clicks the light next to the bed.  
"Okay, love you, g'night," you murmur, still mostly dozing. 
Dieter is silent, unmoving as your words rattle around in his head. He waits until you're snoring before he finally replies. 
"I love you too."
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TAGLIST: @getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @sptbear @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392
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106 notes · View notes
russellsppttemplates · 18 hours
Note
Hi love ☺️hope you’re feeling better.
I saw the video of Charles buying a family ferrari and was wondering about a blurb where he surprises reader eith a family ferrari car when she is pregnant.
I totally get if you need time and your mental health comes first, so whenever you are feel like writing🫶🏻
Note: thank you for your understanding! Everyone has been so lovely about it, it really warms my heart 🥹🤍 I am feeling better, yes ✨️
"Merci", you thanked the driver who brought you and Charles to the stand where he was getting the new car from.
"So, before the do the unveiling - remember how you always joke that we needed a new car for when the baby came if I kept wanting to be the cool dad driving a Ferrari", he chuckled, "I have been looking for the right one for us and our growing family and I found the one that would suit us most", he smiled before pulling you close to him and signalling the staff to pull the red veil.
The car was different than any of the ones he had before, but your family was changing, and this was another step for you. It still looked sleek and elegant, but you couldn't help but giggle as you stood next to it, "what's so funny, mon coeur?", he asked.
"I won't have to bend down and feel like it laying down whenever I'm in the car - not on this one when I'm pregnant anyway!", you did a little cheery dance as one of the staff giggled with you.
"I also had them put the ISOFIX locks out already so we won't have to look for those in the future", Charles pointed to the details on the back seats, "do you like it?".
"I do! I'm a little freaked out at a little one ruining these, but they seem fairly easy to wipe", you shrugged as you rubbed your bump.
"I really sold you on the SUV cut, didn't I?", your husband chuckled.
"Honestly? Yes - it's a beautiful car, don't get me wrong, and you know how much I enjoy our road trips, but I can do this", you said as you got into the seat and got out without much help and bending down, "on my own, so I'm more than happy", you giggled, "this is really nice, thank you, Charles", you hugged him before one of the staff proceeded to explain all of the details on the car.
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
135 notes · View notes
blarshwritezz · 14 hours
Note
Yandere ceo × male actor reader. I imagine that the CEO is the owner of one of the biggest Hollywood agencies of all time and is a reference in entertainment, he is the cold type and gets to know you during an event.
The reader is an actor who appears in successful films and he is nice compared to the ceo.
I imagine Ceo would make indecent proposals to you and force you to marry him
Capital idea!
Yandere CEO x Actor Reader
Male yan x male reader
TW - general yandere behavior, slight NSFW, abuse of power, manipulation
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"What do you say, won't you be my husband? You know what will happen if you don't..." CEO!Yan whispered, his hot breath tickling your ear as his bruising grip on your waist tightened further. Is this really what your life has come to?
You never expected anything like this to happen when you met nearly two years ago. You were at a party hosted by your company to celebrate what a success your latest movie was.
It was your first time in a lead role, and you absolutely crushed it! It was a massive success at the box office, one of the greatest hits ever produced by your agency!
The CEO even showed up, much to everyone's surprise. You've seen him in the news and on interviews, but he was much more attractive in person. But also so much more intimidating, too. You swore just one gaze from him could freeze you over.
The first time you spoke was when he congratulated you on the role. Specifically, on using that role to fill his pockets with more money. He didn't seem genuine, not at all. He even made a few remarks about how, despite the massive success, you still could have done better.
You thanked him kindly and went off to enjoy your night. You wanted to keep that as your only interaction. Keyword, wanted. With other people, you enjoyed lighthearted conversations. You made sure to remind people that seemed to be giving you a little too much credit that it wouldn't have turned out even half as good without the entire team. You enjoyed a few drinks with your team, maybe a few too many.
Having gotten tipsy and way too brave, you approached the CEO once again. You just couldn't stop staring! He was hot, and you deserved some action after all the hard work you did.
You approached him, flirting a bit. Telling him how good he looked on that custom-tailored suit.
"You know, I look much better without it." He put a hand on your waist, sliding it down and giving your ass a good squeeze. "Why don't you come spend the night at my place? I can assure you, you'll get plenty more roles like this."
And the next thing you knew, you were waking up in his bed, your ass sore from the night before. Well, more specifically, you woke up laying on his chest with one of his arms holding you in place.
That definitely made you wake up. You couldn't believe it! Did you really sleep with your boss?! Sure he was hot and, now that it was coming back to you, really good in bed, but that wasn't what was important here! What if you lose your job over this?! And right as you were really starting to get a name for yourself too.
You carefully crawled out of his arms, trying to find your clothes so you could leave. You could only hope that he wouldn't remember the events of last night.
But oh he did. Like promised, you were soon offered a role in an upcoming movie. The lead role. And with it, a little note saying the spot was guaranteed to be yours...if you just stopped by his office. And if not, he'd ruin your career...
So it became something of a routine. You got incredible roles, and all at the price of your body...in interviews and when speaking to fans, you would always be congratulated and complimented. You really were an incredible actor!
But deep down you knew that you were most likely ruining someone else's chances. There were plenty of other talented actors in this industry that were actually putting in the effort to get parts like this.
But at the same time, he'd absolutely ruin your reputation and career if you didn't do what he said. He had the power and influence to absolutely end your social life, even if you left the industry.
Slowly, your encounters became more...intimate. More loving. He'd start taking you out on genuine dates, and on some rare occasions those dates wouldn't end with him pumping you full of his seed like usual.
He'd even visit you on set! The only issue was how touchy and clingy he got. He'd glare at anyone who got too close to you, even if it was for a scene. People definitely noticed, and rumors soon spread that you two were together.
You told him to tell the truth, to let everyone know that you weren't really together. And what did he say? "Why should I deny it? You're mine, and everyone should know."
Everyone definitely knew, and slowly they all resented working with you. They knew the only reason you got so many roles was because of your relationship with him. And they all avoided you like the plague, fearing what he might do if they got too close.
It kept getting worse and worse, leading you down a spiral of self hatred. He was the reason you were getting things you didn't deserve! But he was the only one who made you feel better, holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings in your ear. Telling you how much you did deserve it. How much you impressed him every day.
All that leading to this moment. Him holding you close as if he hadn't just massacred your throat, all while slipping a ring on your finger.
"Remember, if you say no, you won't have me to protect you from all those awful people. You deserve the world, my dear~"
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And we got it! I don't know if you really wanted much nsfw or not, but I added some anyway.
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thomine · 2 days
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like a ripple in a pond | heizou
PAIRING | heizou / reader TAGS | general audiences, mystery, minor npc oc, mystery, kiss, canon compliant, happens after inazuma archon quest (but knowledge on the quest is not needed) SUMMARY | heizou does not believe in coincidences, so seeing you at tenryou street piqued his curiosity. however, it's not your appearance on a street you hardly frequent that bothers him. it's your expression. WORD COUNT | 5.1k words INFO | title given by @isekyaaa | beta'ed by ekolu & mimkyu | ao3 | more
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When he crosses paths with you on his way home, the shocked expression you have when he calls your name tickles his intuition.
Nothing is a coincidence, Heizou believes, and he should be the one that’s surprised.
First, his office is located in Tenryou, and it’s also in Inazuma City, the place he lives. It’s no anomaly to see him on the street. Second, you live in a village far away. Third, you only ever visit Yae Publishing House during your trips to the city. 
The girl at your side might be a clue though.
When Heizou walks over with a big smile to say hello, the girl stands awkwardly, hands itching for a handshake, but she is also poised for a bow. She doesn’t seem like a local. He wants to assume she’s your friend, but if you are visiting someone you rarely hang out with, casual clothes might not be your choice of wear.
With all these pieces, Heizou is seeing a clearer picture of the situation. You’re giving a tour to someone from another nation. How sweet. However, that does not explain why you are shocked to see him. The Tenryou Commission did send a search party to find his whereabouts, so maybe you chanced upon this rumour and thought he was missing. But you know him. He is never lost with his intuition in the lead. You’re the last person he expects to fall for such stories.
He exchanges greetings with you, and you give a pleasant smile, but soon return to that new distant demeanour of yours. It has been a month since he last saw you at the publishing house. You were always joyful to meet him, sometimes even gracing him with snacks from your home as both of you chewed on dried lavender melon while discussing mystery novels. This is a change he isn’t prepared for, so he focuses on the girl by your side.
“My name is Shikanoin Heizou, a special detective working for the Tenryou Commission. Welcome to Inazuma,” he says as he extends his hand to the foreigner.
Her eyes flit Heizou up and down, and although she tries to be polite, Heizou can sense some doubt in his claim as a detective, not to mention a special one. She returns a friendly grip, body relaxed, but tenses up again. Her eyes beg at you for some guidance, but you’re deep in contemplation.
“It’s nice to meet you Shikanoin… Heizou?” she says after her failed call for your attention. She then introduces herself as Bertha, and Heizou smiles at her name. So she’s from Mondstadt.
“You can call me Heizou.”
Bertha loosens up, releasing a faint sigh. “Oh, I’m glad I didn’t offend you. I heard that some people like to be called by their first name, but some are stricter and only want to be called by their last name.”
“Not at all. I don’t find it a big deal, but if you remember my full name, it might come in handy if you find yourself in a tight pinch.” 
“Oh, that’s really nice of you,” she says in a way that’s hard to decipher if she’s being friendly or she means it. “There were a few instances I did feel unwelcomed,” Bertha mumbles, then she returns to her cheerful self and continues, “but you’re really too kind. Your friend too! I was lost but your friend offered to be my guide for free!”
“I had time to spare,” you bashfully say, walking closer to Heizou. “Can I speak to you for a bit?” You give Bertha a sheepish smile. “I have some matters to discuss with him. We’ll be back! Give us a minute.”
Before she can respond properly, you’re walking down the road. Heizou tips his head to Bertha as a small note of parting and follows suit. Questions sharpen his senses as he scavenges you for keywords. You’re restless. Tired too. Each observation adds a layer to his hill of concern for you. What have you been doing the past month to end up in such a state?
“Actually… I am lost,” you admit after finding a good place out of Bertha’s earshot. You glance behind Heizou to watch her. He takes note how she seems more interested to ask about an Inazuma charm than ask for directions from the nearby store owner. “Bertha wants to go to Komore Teahouse and I thought I knew the way but I guess… I overestimated myself.”
Getting lost… Thinking you’ll know the way but not really… Heizou taps his forehead. Have you been frequenting Inazuma City? It explains your tiredness. The walk back to your village requires climbing and sometimes bandits loiter the paths. It matches your predicament too. Increased visits to the city made you confident you can navigate it by yourself… but if you did frequent the city, would you be lost? Unless you’re only visiting a few places, and Komore Teahouse is out of your parameters.
“Where did you meet Bertha?” Heizou asks. You are taken aback by his question. Reasonably so since the starting point does not matter when someone is lost. Even a baby is aware of this. “If you tell me, we will know where you took a wrong turn. You won’t get lost again.”
After a bit of hesitance, you oblige. “I saw her at Ogura Textile and Kimonos. I took a left turn believing it was a shortcut but… no success. What a relief that you appeared. She still thinks I can guide her. I wouldn’t want her to know I’ve been leading her to nowhere. Plus, how embarrassing… I approached to help but I ended up being lost as well.”
Heizou’s intuition pricks.
Your expression when you saw him had no inclination of relief. Not that it was hostile—it was surprise, mixed with a drop of disbelief.
“Then it must also be a relief to hear that you’re walking in the right direction,” Heizou says, smiling at the way your eyes light up. “Since you’re on the main road, it’s easy. Walk straight and just before the staircase to Hanamizaka, that’s when you turn to your left.”
“Thank you,” you say, but there is something else on your tongue you’re not sharing. He can tell from the way you lick your lips and press them together, as if sealing an envelope. 
Heizou spent his past few days tracking down a case. It was exhilarating to enter the ruins and find treasure hoarders deep in their mischief. This case of you, however, is a different kind of exhilarating. 
His intuition blares, warning him not to let this moment go. Not that he will. His brain is whirring with possibilities of what he can dig, and he isn’t satisfied with all the information he currently has.
“Perhaps I can join you, just in case,” he offers.
You stiffen. 
“It’s a straightforward path and I’m sure you can manage yourself,” Heizou says, “but my way home is in the same direction. It won’t hurt to do a little detour, would it?”
You furrow your eyebrows and watch Heizou suspiciously. 
“You’re suspecting something…”
“Aiyaya, how quick you are to accuse me. I just want to follow along.”
“And…?”
“And?” Heizou repeats, hands on his hips, smile stretching playfully. If he stitched everything right, Heizou is a problem to you, but he wasn’t one a month ago. Something has happened, and his intuition is telling him he has to find out why before it’s too late. “Aren’t you happy you bumped into me?”
“Relieved,” you correct. Heizou is smirking, silently arguing that it’s the same, and your quietness is your agreement. “If it doesn’t bother you, I don’t see why not…” you relent. It is never nice using your inability to say no to his advantage, but this is necessary to unearth your strange behaviour.
Heizou snaps his fingers in delight. He was worried he’ll have to return to paperwork after his cases. His intuition to leave for the publishing house a little later today was genius, serving him a delicious find.
“We shouldn’t keep Bertha waiting, should we?” He asks, and you sigh, deflated, but when you look at him, you have a restrained giddy smile on your face. Locking eyes with him, however, makes you squirm and you stare at the ground as if to collect your strength, yet you aren’t afraid of him like Bertha is. You’re standing close, almost as if preparing for the winds to sway you to bump into his shoulder.
His intuition tingles.
Oh.
How very exciting.
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You are surprisingly well known in Inazuma City, Heizou observes, and although it distracts them from making their way to Komore Teahouse, the small conversations reveal plenty about you. Some of his colleagues recognise you, and interestingly they aren’t doushin that patrol the city. Ogura Textile and Kimono shop is just by the entrance of the police station. It should be expected that doushin will find you familiar if you’re frequently within the area… but they seem too friendly for you to be a face they witness crossing the streets on a regular basis.
He tries to ignore the small bud of green in his stomach, covering it with a yawn as one of his colleagues brag about his accomplishments. You’re nodding, listening, but your eyes wander too much. Sometimes you seem to be staring into space. After a minute or so, Heizou decides to save you from your misery, pulling you away.
An old lady also stopped the group to give you groceries in exchange for a kind act you did, which you eventually accepted so she could let you off. 
Heizou can see Bertha’s eyes grow with innocent admiration with every pit stop. When you introduce her as your friend to the locals, they extend their warm greetings. It isn’t a surprise when, at the teahouse, she frantically requests to exchange contacts. She even reveals the address of her lodging in Inazuma City, practically begging you to find her.
Only you. It seems Heizou is redacted out of the situation, left to stand at the side and wait.
“I am truly so grateful. I came to Inazuma alone believing it will be a smooth trip. Who knew my understanding of the Inazuma script and local customs is so shallow…” Bertha clasps both your hands. “You really saved me back there.”
“Oh, it’s not a big deal,” you say like a saint. “I’ll be happy to help within my means. But, um… could you let go of my hands now?”
“Oh, sorry.” Bertha looks as if you struck a knife in her chest.
“N–not that I hate it or anything—I can’t delay any longer. It’s getting late and I need to go home.” 
Heizou wants to laugh. There you go again letting people do as they want with you. Physical contact is not part of Inazuma’s culture, so he knows you’re at least uncomfortable. Bertha doesn’t need to know that though. She looks at the darkening sky and agrees, bidding you goodbye, and waves to Heizou as an afterthought.
You seem weary, and Heizou almost feels culpable approaching you for what he’s going to say next.
“Let me walk you home.”
‘Almost’ because the stupor in your expression is worth it.
“Yes, you shouldn’t walk me back home.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
“No, wait, I said you shouldn’t!”
“But you said ‘yes’.”
“As a detective, you shouldn’t cherry pick your clues.”
“As a detective, I am supposed to pick up things between the lines.”
“No, no, no. You’re reading this wrong. I don’t need you to walk me back home. I know the way and—wait a minute. I should just go now. The more we talk, the later it’s going to get. Good bye. It was nice meeting you.”
Heizou expects you to dash away, as your words imply, but you’re walking at a comfortable pace, and after a few metres, you do look back.
“I said not to follow me,” you hiss, intending it to be a warning but you sound conflicted instead.
“That’s hard when you’re making it too easy to do so.”
To his surprise, you stop and turn. You take a step closer to him and corner him like a culprit. Heizou is tempted to raise his hands in surrender, but he just smirks instead.
“Listen here, smart guy. I don’t know what you’re thinking but whatever you’re thinking of is wrong. You should just go your merry way and I will go on my own.”
“Then answer me this question, and your prize is that I’ll leave you alone.”
You shrink, looking uncertain.
“I’ll hear it first.”
He clears his throat comedically, adjusting his attire as he straightens his back, then stares into your eyes. You look away before returning with a gaze of equal determination.
“Can you explain what you’ve been doing near the police station?”
As if Heizou got caught in his own webbed game, you smile, eyes narrowing. The hunter has become the hunted it seems, when you so readily answer him.
“I guess you don’t know, but I am a freelancer who occasionally delivers parcels in Inazuma City. Most of the orders—well, the ones I take anyways—are to the police station.” 
He tilts his head and looks at you. You’re really bad at lying, needing every word of yours to be factually correct. In some sense that’s your charm. Under his inquisitive presence, you falter for a split second before steeling yourself.
You’re trying to throw him off from his original hypothesis. That has to be the reason why you’re still shaky in some aspects of your stance. You didn’t reveal any new information, but it’s nice to know his assumption that you frequent only the police station is correct, aligning with how you could not find Komore Teahouse.
With your guards up, it’s not easy to get more out of you. Regardless, the sun is no longer in the sky and the city is illuminated by street lamps. It is a great condition for one thing…
“Look at the time. I don’t think you should go home alone when you don’t have a weapon or vision to defend yourself. I guess it is in my interest to accompany you.”
You open your mouth in rebuttal but squeeze your eyes. Then, your raised index finger filled with accusatory intentions falls to your side as your shoulders slump.
“Fine. If you think it’s not a nuisance.”
You’re reluctant at first, answering his questions plainly, but as the night deepens, you start speaking the way you used to at the publishing house. Excitedly, you rap about your trivial adventures at the village, recounting tales like a narrator observing life unfold. In your good mood, Heizou tries asking about your delivery job, but you change the subject to ask about his cases. When you try to sneak a few questions on his whereabouts to piece together the incidents that led him to appear at Tenryou street, he gives you what you want, but, tit-for-tat, he doesn’t reveal he was on his way to the publishing house. 
When you reach home, you’re all smiles, as if you did not oppose his suggestion to walk you back home at all.
His intuition tingles.
He’s getting closer to the truth.
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“That helpful delivery person has not come in weeks,” a colleague of Heizou laments as he enters a restaurant well known to tourists and high flyers, not so much doushin. “I ordered something and I was hoping it’d be that freelancer to arrive, but it was just a regular employee from Komaniya Express.”
“Oh, I know that freelancer—Heizou’s friend, right?”
Heizou does not say anything as he enters the restaurant after his colleagues for lunch. Many have commented his increased presence in the city is strange considering his love for pursuing personal cases that leads him to other islands of Inazuma, but no matter how much they poke, Heizou does not say anything more than he has personal dealings in Inazuma City.
Unfortunately, you haven’t stepped foot into the city for a while, puzzling him. His intuition doesn’t lead him anywhere else.
“Oi, Brother Heizou, help your brothers out, would ya? We want to know more about your friend.”
Something ugly buzzes in his gut. Over the weeks, as he dug for more evidence to solidify his hypothesis, he learned a lot about you. He has known you for a while, but only as a novel enthusiast. His first encounter with you was at the Publishing House, and buying novels was the only reason you travelled the distance from your village to the City. He didn’t question much and left after he browsed through the shelves, but you were always there when he visited, and it was fun having discourse with you on the reality of these novels.
Turns out you took the long journey to the bookstore not just for yourself, but to buy books for the village. The old lady you bumped into? She is from your hometown. She was visiting her grandson who lived in the city, and that grandson, inspired by the books you brought back, decided to chase his dreams. He’s apparently an up-and-coming novelist.
As gentle as ripples on a pond, sometimes he worries how fragile you are, but it amazes him how large your small actions become.
To have his colleagues fawn over you is expected considering your deeds, but Heizou still doesn’t like it.
“Aiyaya, it’s a little too early to be talking about all this. We haven’t even ordered our meals. Come, Uesugi, what do you want to eat?” 
Uesugi, a colleague, brightens up at the invitation, and the boys holler and hoot as they scan the menu.
In the midst of chaos, a voice finds its way to Heizou’s ears. 
It’s Bertha. She dashes towards Heizou’s position, uncaring about the way his colleagues fall silent and watch her with great curiosity. Heizou doesn’t care either. What he cares for is if you are with her, and if you are, then his intuition is right. Bertha is the reason you’ll visit the city again.
“Oh, it’s such a pleasure to meet you! We were just talking about you. Come, let me show you where we’re seated.”
Without any warning, Bertha grabs his hand and drags him up the stairs. Heizou’s colleagues just gawk. Even their honed quick reflexes are no match against the shock that sits them in their place, and he is carried away before they know it.
“We’ll order for you!” one of them shouts before Heizou is gone.
He has no idea how Bertha has the strength to sprint up the stairs. Upon reaching the second floor, he is slightly exhausted but tries to compose himself when he spots you sitting at a nearby table. You’re sipping your drink, and when you notice him, you almost choke.
“Take a seat!” Bertha gestures to the seat beside you. You cough, twisting your body away from him. It is only after you take a deep breath do you sit proper, straining your face to remain expressionless.
“Bertha,” you say with a controlled voice, “Your break to the toilet was faster than I expected.”
“That,” she says, pursing her lips in embarrassment, “I actually forgot about that because I was so excited. I shall go now.” But it seems as if it is intentional, for she giggles on her way down the stairs.
Heizou pulls out the chair opposite you instead since Bertha is gone. Plus, he’ll give himself till Bertha returns. The longer he stays, the more questions his brothers will ask him. You do not like being bombarded with grand gestures, something his colleagues will do when they realise you’re in the vicinity.
You return to your drink, staring at the table.
“How’s lunch—” you say. 
“It’s nice to see you around—” he says as well.
Both of you gently laugh. He gestures for you to go first.
“I didn’t know you'd eat lunch at this restaurant. You don’t seem like someone who likes fancy food.”
“That’s right. I prefer more homely dishes, but my friends wanted something special.” 
“Special? Is today a special day? Wait a minute, when is your birthday?”
Heizou chuckles, leaning against the table. “It’s not my birthday. They’re just being sentimental that I’m around. I am their model employee.”
You nod, laughing, and then fade to silence.
“It’s nice to see you around,” Heizou starts. You’re almost back to your normal self, it seems. Less tense, less rigid. More welcoming. Still, a streak of sadness stains your mien.
“Yeah… Bertha wanted me to accompany her through her itinerary. She’s invited me to join her a few times but I declined, and then I felt horrible about it… This is the second of the seven places she wants to visit. I’m in for a long day, huh.”
“Is that why you haven’t been doing deliveries, then?”
“Not really,” you say, shrinking into your seat. “Did… Bertha say anything to you?”
Oh? Heizou can feel his lips curving into a smirk. She did drop that you were talking to her about him. He tries to control his expression and tap his temple in thought.
“Perhaps she did…”
You jump in your seat, hands reaching out to create some barrier between him and you.  “Look, I can explain. I–I–”
“You can when I walk you home,” Heizou says as he stands. “I believe you’ll have a long day today, and it’ll be dangerous for you to go home yourself. I’ll meet you at Bertha’s.”
“Wait, I don’t know when I’ll end. How about I meet you at the police station?”
The rowdiness from his peers below reminds him of their casual talk about you.
“The hostel is fine. If not, I'll wait for you. How about that?”
“I don’t really have a choice if I want to explain myself, right…”
“You’re right,” he teases. You look down in your seat, but he manages to catch you biting your lip to abate a nervous smile. “I’m not giving you another opportunity.”
He leaves, crossing paths with Bertha on his way down the stairs. She’s upset he can’t stay, but understands that he’s still on the clock and the meal his colleagues ordered for him has probably arrived. She bids farewell and Heizou rejoins with his friends.
They pester him with questions on who Bertha is, which he answers honestly. A few catch on that Bertha isn’t alone and asks who the other person might be. 
“Even a detective should have his secrets,” he says, then smiles and stuffs himself with food.
As quick eaters and obedient guards of the Tenryou Commission, they finish their meal before lunch break ends. Thankfully, neither you nor Bertha make your way down. As some quip about you and their sadness for your absence the past few weeks, Heizou can’t stop grinning.
His intuition is always right.
He’s looking forward to tonight.
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Heizou throws his jitte into the air, catching it by hooking the handle with his index before spinning it idly. He has been waiting for 10 minutes with you nowhere in sight. He’s surprisingly optimistic though, especially considering Bertha’s personality. She will not let you slip away. It’s highly likely she knows of your meet up with Heizou at the end of the day. She would have pestered you for details, and you’ll give what she wants. 
“Sorry to keep you waiting…” you say behind him. He turns, confused why you’ll appear from the hostel, only to have his eyes feast on a wonderful sight. His jitte drops to his floor. You’re wearing traditional clothing, styled and tailored in a way that perfectly brings out your form. Heizou’s heart almost forgets its job. He bends down to pick his weapon.
“Bertha decided to use me as a model… uh…” You lift your sleeves and twist to look at yourself. “This is making things worse, isn’t it?”
“Where are your clothes?”
You sink, hands covering your face. Heizou kneels with you.
“I wasn’t paying attention and bumped into someone who spilled noodles on me.”
Nothing happens out of coincidence, Heizou believes. 
You groan. “I’m making this worse for myself.” Your hands are shaking, so he takes them gently in his and gives them an encouraging squeeze before standing to pull you up.
“I wonder what was on your mind,” he asks, partially knowing the answer. You don’t release your grip on him even though you’re on your feet.
You sigh. “This is the time for it to all be revealed, isn’t it? Although I believe you already figured it out.”
“I’m not a mind reader,” he says. “Even if I do know, don’t you want to say it?”
“No, I don’t.” You keep your head low. “Not really.”
He keeps quiet, patiently waiting for your next move. You look at his hand that’s holding yours, then at him before your face is stricken with nervousness. He gives an encouraging squeeze.
“Do you remember our first meeting?” you ask.
“At Yae’s Publishing House.”
A small smile graces your features as you seem to reminisce. “Your wit captivated me. I found you so charming, but scary. You could understand every twist and turn of the novels, I was envious.”
Heizou nods. He remembers that, and at that time he was grateful for your agreement. Normally people push aside his own beliefs, or even accuse his intuition to be child’s play. There’s a reason people call him peculiar and eccentric. It took a while to gather the trust of his comrades he currently calls his brothers, but you trusted him immediately. That made it easy to get along with you. He might not admit it, but meeting you was his highlights, not the best seller books.
“As we talked more, I started to like you, Heizou.”
The ambience is thick with suspense. It is what he expects to hear, but he stands, now the stunned one, unable to fathom the honesty in your gaze.
You finally pull your hand away from his grip. 
“When you stopped appearing at the publishing house, I wanted to see you again, so I tried many excuses to visit Inazuma City in hopes I’d bump into you. Truthfully, I was a little offended that when I tried, you were nowhere to be found. Then, just when I gave up, you were there. ” 
“You quit your job as a delivery person, didn’t you?”
You nod.
“And,” Heizou adds, “the day we met would be your last day in the city.”
“I went to the publishing house without fail. Went for multiple trips and even stayed there for a whole day just to increase my chances. I always wondered when we would meet again.”
As you speak, your head lowers. You touch your attire, eyeing it carefully. “I was thinking about what will happen now before I got noodles all over myself. I was so nervous, but Bertha is right. Keeping these feelings inside isn’t doing me any good. I rejected her invitation because I didn’t want to go to the city, to have anything to do with you… but I eventually agreed because it felt too good to be true that we walked home, and maybe I’m greedy…”
You lean against the wall, arms hugging yourself as an attempt to be smaller.
“She said if I don’t tell you, she’ll do it for me as the highlight of her trip before she leaves. Knowing how she is, I was worried she’ll give you a run down version of my feelings as the truth. I know I said I like you, but I’m really here to say I’m not going to anymore.”
Heizou can only stare. Soaked in sincerity and moonlight, you’re enthralling.
“This is so embarrassing,” you admit, facing his nonplus reaction. “You shouldn’t say anything. I’ll just go home now.”
Heizou wants to grab you before you elude him, but his intuition freezes him in place. Where is the joy in that if you succumb to his plea? At this moment, there is no greater test for you than him giving you the space to express yourself. For once, you don’t have to adhere to other’s desires, and in the quiet, he hopes you can hear your own. So he stands at the entrance of the hostel as he watches you go. Each step, his heart aches. His hands itch to reach forward, but he keeps them to his side. 
His intuition is always right.
You stop your march.
Slowly, you look back, and you dash towards him.
“It’s not easy to like you,” you confess when you return, panting. “And I keep telling myself I can stop liking you if I don’t see you but I’ll remember how we would talk for hours and I’d fall in love with the way your mind works, and then spiral into a mess of listing everything amazing about you.”
For a long time, you have been at the back of his mind too. While he runs around Inazuma, led by his intuition, he wonders how you’ll react to seeing him again. Perhaps his insistence to find the truth is also stemmed from his disbelief that you can look at him with such dejection. Where was the smile he found beautiful?
He doesn’t believe in coincidences, so this moment can’t happen if it isn’t for his frolicking attitude. He doesn’t regret it, but it does cause a small twang in his chest knowing he’s hurt you.
“I can’t change who I am,” he says.
“I know. I’m not asking you too. I don’t know what I’m asking, honestly. After this we can ignore each other and I’ll never visit the city again.” You look at him to search for some kind of confirmation or rebuttal. 
“Do you really want that?” he asks instead, and perhaps you see your reflection through his green eyes as you widen yours in gentle surprise, like facing a revelation. “You can do what you want with me. I’m not going anywhere.”
You take a step closer. He doesn’t budge, letting your breath hit his skin. A second later, you declare like a criminal: “I missed you.”
You hold his face and press your lips against his.
Heizou does not believe in coincidences. A ripple has to be caused by something. Humans have to be moved by something. He has fallen under scrutiny for this view, but there is no moment greater than this that proves his point. 
It is not a coincidence your lips mould his.
It is not a coincidence he likes you, and it’s not a coincidence you like him.
42 notes · View notes
momowritings · 2 days
Text
Love Bites pt. 2
When two worlds collide…
Baker Fem Reader x Toji Fushiguro
word ct: 15.1k, 11 Chapters
Preview: “I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”
“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“
“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal...”
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Chapter Two: Chimayo Chai
Much to your dismay Toji visited the shop at least once a week with the same order. He always wanted to eat two of everything and a new drink to try, a drink that you had to choose for him. Your routine was set to where you had his boxes already waiting for him by the time he came in. 
“Can I ask you a question?” Toji stops and stares down at you. You roll the ties of your apron around your fingers to try to calm yourself. 
“Why do you order so much? I mean, you come in every week, but you don’t strike me as someone who has a sweet tooth.”
Once again Toji didn’t respond right away but you were used to it by now. Toji seemed to talk more when he was annoyed, so him being quiet was actually a good sign. 
“I give them to my son and… coworkers.”
“You have a son?” you perk up. “I didn’t know you were married.”
“I’m not.”
You cringe at his response. You didn’t mean to bring up an unpleasant memory for him but you could never seem to talk to him normally. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I- Here’s your drink,” you sigh and hand him the latest fall drink on their menu, which is a Chimayo Chai. You hold the drink out and he takes it, lingering for a moment before speaking again. “He doesn’t like sweets either. My son.”
Your eyebrows knit together at his confession. “So it’s mainly just your coworkers who like sweets?”
Toji nods and finally takes the tea from over the counter. “They won’t shut up about them.”
“I love to hear that. I’ve been meaning to try more sugar and gluten free recipes. Maybe then you can enjoy them too.” You gave him a soft smile and the word “cute” flashed in Toji’s mind. He couldn’t even remember the last time he used that word willingly. “Oh, one more thing,” you say. “Next week on this day I won’t be here. The shop will be closed actually,” you mutter quietly. The words make Toji’s grip tighten around his cup and he waits for her to continue.
“It’s just for one day! I’m telling you because you always come in on Thursdays so I wanted to give you a heads up. I’ll close earlier on Wednesday but Friday will be open during normal store hours,” you smile and push your glasses up. 
“Why?”
You were hoping he wouldn’t ask that question. You really didn’t want to lie to him, but at the same time you didn’t have any idea who this man was, even if your interest in him piqued every time he walked in with his tieless suit and emotionless face. 
“I’m… visiting family,” you acquiesce. 
“For only a day?”
“Yes, that’s all I need.” 
Thankfully another customer broke their conversation with an announcement of their own. “Hey you, feeling old yet?” You smile at your tall friend who reaches over the counter to give you a tight hug. 
“My birthday’s next week, jackass. How have you been, Rina?” 
“Now I have to be more creative with my learning plans to keep the kids focused on their school work,” Rina dramatically sighs and her eyes trails over to the man she brushed past to say hello to you and her eyes widens.
“Oh Mr. Fushiguro! Funny seeing you here!”
“You know him, Rina?” This was getting ridiculous. How could an elementary teacher know a man like Toji?
“I teach his son, Megumi. He’s an absolute sweetheart. Quiet, but smart. He also loves all things related to frogs. Did I interrupt your conversation?”
“No, not at all. I’m sure Mr. Toji has other things to attend to. I’ll see you next week? Or maybe not, but soon?” 
“What drink is this again?” Toji looks down into the cup. 
“Chimayo Chai. You’re the first person I’ve made it for so far since it’s new on the menu,” you beam. “Let me know what you think when I see you again, okay?”
Toji nods and leaves without another word and Rina slowly turns to you with a smile pulling at her lips. 
“He’s single you know.”
“Rina.”
“And quite a catch. He shows up to all of Megumi’s events and the other PTA moms drool over him from a distance.” 
“Rina…”
“I wasn’t joking about Megumi. He doesn’t smile often but he is one of the kindest kids in the class. He’s like a tiny adult. I think you’d like him.”
“Stop that! I barely know the man. I just—“
“You just add new items on the menu in the middle of the season for him to be the first one to try it. No big deal,” Rina smirks and pops a piece of a muffin that she grabbed off of a rack into her mouth.
“Shut up. And I'm charging you for that.”
“Yeah yeah. Anyway, be sure to get ready for the school’s fall festival. Who knows, maybe Mr. Fushiguro will be there too.”
<<<Chapter One
Chapter Three>>>
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tishalfdeadwaffles · 3 days
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(The secret history spoiler warning)
unironically the thing I love most about the secret history is that it’s messed up by all means. Each character from the Greek class is messed up one way or another, and their faults, their fatal flaws—they’re not just any flaws no, they’re flaws that make these characters horrid. Yes they had cute interactions, yes I always think about their time in the countryhouse, when they were by the lake and Camilla injured her foot, Francis in his robe and Henry in his suit with the trousers rolled up to the knees, looking like a banker in an old impressionist painting, as he wades into the water, Charles saving Richard a sandwich and almost getting in trouble for it, bunny being kind to Richard at the start of the book and trusting him to the very end, the way bunny and Marion were so old married couple coded, Judy Poovey talking Richard’s ears off and being a girl 🎀, Henry beating up that jock for Camilla
Despite all this, Charles remains an incestuous drunkard and an abuser, Francis remains a melodramatic man who’d ask just about anyone he thinks attractive to bed on the first meeting, he’s also an anxious mess and refuses to believe there are consequences to his chain smoking, Camilla is manipulative and we know little of her bc of Richard’s idolisation, Richard morbidly longing for the picturesque at the expense of others’ lives and viewing the Greek class through rose tinted glasses, bunny was a homophobe and racist and leeched off everyone’s money—he literally put Richard on the spot during one of their first interactions in the book when he took him to the Brasserie and had Henry pay for everything—and looking through his sick friend’s diary and he was so darn annoying I couldn’t stand him at all in the first read, and even that might as well be exaggerated because it’s only Richard’s perspective on him, and bunny seemed to be well liked in the university by those outside the Greek class. I don’t even know where to start with Henry, I’m gonna have to make a separate post for him alone at this point. And even Judy, remember when Richard met her in the bathroom and she was talking about her slamming into Camilla when Camilla JUST entered the place, and when Camilla called her out Judy just dunked her beer on her because being drunk is a perfect excuse to see that as the right thing to do? And then when Henry and Charles went up to defend Camilla Judy called them abusers for defending her? 😭 though Henry breaking Spike’s bones is another thing to be honest. and don’t get me started on the bacchanal—the four of them killing an innocent man in their frenzy and getting away with it and brushing it under the rug later on. They’re literal murderers, and that’s before the plan of murdering Bunny was introduced
and ALL of them are chainsmokers and alcoholics to a dangerous point, can you even imagine the smell?????
anyhow, the main point of this ramble, is that to get a good sense of what this book is really about, I’d suggest rereading it at least once. Donna is a master of her craft, and this work of hers is anything but shallow, even the flaws are so perfectly placed and shadowed by our unreliable narrator to the point where there’s a big bunch of readers who completely ignore them (think of how there’s critics and readers who assume that Lolita is a romance novel) , but if you look from a more rational angle you’ll understand what Donna was trying to communicate
and I love love love how she did all of this
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My thoughts on The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie
I don’t know if I liked it as much as the original films (maybe Mockingjay 1 & 2 as they are pretty emotionally draining), but I still enjoyed it.
I think where it fell a little flat for me is 1. The beginning was a bit slow (tbh I only really started getting interested when Lucy Gray stuck that snake down that girl’s dress & even then I enjoyed the story more when the setting changed from the Capitol to the district) 2. I knew Snow would survive 3. I’d already been spoiled online for a lot of stuff that happens & 4. while I know the director did his best to make Snow as “likeable” as he could for as long as possible, even before he started getting “a little too comfortable” with killing & snitching I didn’t find him as sympathetic as Katniss or Peeta (but that is probably again down to the fact that I know what he goes onto do & there’s no real way around that), this made engaging with him difficult for me.
The world is fascinating. Getting to see all the new locations we never had access to before as well as old locations now in a totally different light (for example district 12 which, while still clearly suffering, seemed like such a bustling industrial town compared to how it is in Katniss’s time). It might have a much more retro aesthetic but there's also just a more vibrant, natural, wild & lawless atmosphere to this movie compared to the others in the franchise. The whole scope of the film just felt more cinematic then I remember the others being yet also weirdly intimate. Maybe because it was one contained story & we knew the main character’s fate from the start. I also loved the title cards signifying the start of each section of the story like from the books & wished they'd done something similar for the other films. It just added a certain flair to the whole thing. Almost gave it the vibe of a tragic play.
The costuming was great. The bright red of the academy uniforms.  Flickerman’s snazzy suits. Snow’s dapper black & white outfit. Both peace keeper uniforms (despite one of them giving very ‘1930’s Germany’ vibes) looked great. Grandma might have been a bigot, but at least she was well dressed. Everything Dr Gaul wore (except the top that looked like a used tampon, lol) was exquisite. The main ladies of fashion, Tigris & Lucy Gray slayed. Our Future Capitol stylist looked like some regal yet exotic bird & Miss Survivor was giving Bohemian, country girl realness the entire time she was on screen. Even the extras were serving (like that random couple Snow walked past on his way to the reaping ceremony).
The music was amazing. Every song that played was fantastic (shout out to Olivia for her end credit contribution). The lyrics & instrumentation were beautiful & my god does Rachel Zegler have pipes! Anyone who says the singing scenes are cringy is just stupid like I’m sorry you can’t appreciate art. Also, the words ‘ballad’ & ‘songbirds’ are literally in the title. Plus, Lucy Gray is from the poorest district, so what exactly do those people want her to do in her free time? She can’t exactly hop on an X-box for a few hours. Not too mention that (as the offspring of someone who’s musically inclined) I can tell you, it’s completely realistic for a musician to use their craft to help them deal with trauma & Lucy Gray clearly had more than her fair share of that.
The Grandma'am helped to paint a sadly very realistic background for Snow. As who among us hasn’t met at least one delusional old person who thinks that their/their group’s suffering (regardless of the severity of it or the reason behind their former/newer status in society) means that no one else are deserving of even the tiniest shred of humanity & there are some people who are unlucky enough to not only be related to these people but be raised by them.
Hunter schafer as Tigris is clearly the superior Snow when it comes to things like empathy & overall mental stability but I do kind of wish they’d been more for her to do. Credit where credit is due though her & Tom did actually looked like they could be related & I did buy their familial bond which makes her appearance in Mockingjay so much sadder in hindsight.
Peter Dinklage as Casca Highbottom was a bit of a mix for me just due to his purpose as a character & the limit of film as a form of media. Like sure the audience know that Snow’s going to become a monster in the end but without a window into his mind it really does just seem like the Dean is out to get him from the start for no reason & even when we find out his reasoning it seems kind of unfair like sure his dad sucked but haven’t the Games shown that blaming children for violence caused by others is unjust (& like ok he hates Coriolanus & probably the grandma but Tigris hadn’t done anything to deserve living in poverty as she can’t control who she’s related to)? Plus, it felt like he could have at least tried taking Snow under his wing to hinder Dr Gual’s influence. Saying all of that, though, Peter Dinklage is great at playing an addict with depression & the idea that some drunken rambling could lead to such long-lasting suffering is terrifying. Also its pretty realistic that living with that kind of guilt & in such a cruel environment for so long would make most people jaded & bitter, even if they did have good intentions.
Omg we finally get a Mayor family on screen & they’re assholes! Madge would be so disappointed 😭. It was interesting to see how harsh & overall “boot licky” the mayor & his family seemed compared to decades later, which makes sense as the war wasn’t that long ago for them so the dad probably felt more incentive to align himself with the Capitol & didn’t feel very connected to the district people as 12’s decline probably didn’t fully set in until they really started running low on coal & Snow became president (oh I just know he wanted to blow that district off the map 😆). I also wouldn’t put it past Billy to come up with a sob story about how he really does love Mayfair but wicked Lucy Gray is (somehow) preventing them from being together. Still no excuse to try to send her to her death twice in one week, though. Definitely not a girl’s girl.
Ok, so a liar. Cheat. Drunk & someone who hits women. Is there anything good about Billy Taupe? Also, trying to get your ex back, while your current girlfriend is literally standing right next to you? Dude, have some god damn back bone! You made a choice, now stick to it. Also, fumbling Lucy Gray, for a girl like that? What’s it like having no brains or taste? Well, too bad, coz you’re stuck with her forever now, lol.
Viola Davies, the actress that you are. What else is there to say? Dr Gaul is almost comic book levels of insane. Like she is how the Right see women in STEM, on crack! I don’t know what she did to get into character, but whatever it was, it worked.
Jason Schwartzman as Lucretius Flickerman is a very interesting addition to the story despite playing such a small & seemingly insignificant role. He is strange in how almost unthreatening he is, yet also extremely blasé about the abhorrent violence he witnesses that it’s as funny as it is disturbing. It makes him come across as  more earnest yet harsher than his son, who at least pretends to care about the tributes (in a very Capitol way, obviously but still). There’s also a polish & confidence to Tucci’s performance that I think Schwartzman did a great job of avoiding copying (despite knowing what audiences were probably expecting) because not only are their characters in entirely different stages of their careers but the whole ethos of the Hunger Games is different in Snow’s youth than it is in Katniss’s. Caesar is a well established presenter & during his time, the games have always been a success (minus the year with the tundra) that the entire Capitol is invested in & seemingly in support of. On the other hand Lucretius had the unique task of not only coming into a job like this with zero experience (I mean imagine going from announcing the weather to presenting the fucking hunger games) but also there were basically no guidelines or even a vibe to try to emulate because he truly was the first person to do this & on top of that the event his presenting has been panned for years as both boring & unethical. Schwartzman brought a slightly awkward, experimental, yet try hard vibe (like a comedian who really wants you to laugh at his jokes) that I think worked wonderfully for the character.
Tom Blyth performance was great & he was visually perfect for a young Snow. (the power of a good wig! Who knew lol). Even having the (starting to) cool, analytical stare of Donald Sutherland, down pat. While his appearance was very Eminem during his peacekeeping days, his realisation in the cabin and subsequent breakdown in the woods were crazy. There was so much tension between him & Rachel in that scene that for a second, it literally felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room. I could almost hear the record scratch for both of them, & all that building paranoia finally coming to a sudden crescendo in the way that it did? Pure cinema!
Josh Rivera, as Sejanus, was honestly a mix for me. Obviously, I agree with his morals, but his way of going about it did seem a little dumb. However I do think it’s pretty realistic that a teenager, especially a rich one, would be rather naive. Also I’ve heard that he’s smarter in the book & I think at times my frustration with him is more just down to the fact that I’m seeing him from Snow’s point of view. Meaning scenes that would be portrayed as noble in any other film instead come across as almost painfully inconvenient because the focus is always on how they affect Snow (rather than the actual victims of the situation). Lastly, sorry, Snowjanus shippers, I just don’t see it (especially on Snow’s end), but whatever floats your boat.
Rachel Zegler played Lucy Gray with the perfect mix of natural charm & emotional vulnerability with clear pride in her culture (as part of the Covey) & a refusal to let the world around her change who she is. Yet there was also an air of mystery & a subtle resilience to her that makes her potentially surviving out in the woods for years without being detected actually believable (though I don’t buy the theory that she went on to become president Coin). Definitely the highlight of the movie for me.
Now I’ve just got to find time to read the book.
PS. I'd love to know what you think of my review in the comments/tags & am open to criticism (as long as it's respectful) just remember that I'm only talking about the movie so please don't reference any book spersific things as I've only just started reading the book a few days ago
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looks of a princess ~ eleventh doctor;doctor who
word count: 3736
request?: no
description: after travelling to medieval times, a flirtatious king takes interest in the doctor’s companion, and the doctor is a little jealous
pairing: eleventh doctor x female!reader
warnings: swearing, jealousy, use of y/n
masterlist (one, two, three)
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“I hate when you don’t tell me where we’re going,” (Y/N) muttered as the TARDIS lurched again. “I always feel like I need to prepare for whatever is going to happen.”
“You don’t need to prepare for anything this time,” the Doctor insisted. “Just let me surprise you, we’ll have fun!”
“Remember last time you said you would surprise me with fun? We ended up surrounded by Daleks and narrowly escaping their attacks.”
The Doctor moved away from the controls and cupped (Y/N)’s face. “This one will be a fun surprise. I promise.”
He kissed the top of her head, then went back to the controls. (Y/N) wanted to argue further, but she knew there was no use. The Doctor had a very different definition of “fun” than most, and it was nearly impossible to convince him when he was wrong. And she had to admit, the Doctor never went looking for trouble. Trouble just found him. Besides all that, it was also just impossible to argue with the Doctor when he was showing her affection, which they were both well aware of.
She braced as the TARDIS began making a noise that indicated they would be landing soon. As usual, the TARDIS landed with a rough thud and would’ve thrown the two of them to the ground if they hadn’t been prepared. The Doctor was smiling his big, goofy smile as he rushed to the door and threw it open with a flourish. (Y/N) looked around him at where they were supposed to be. “A forest?”
The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around. “I could’ve swore I had our coordinates to land at the castle.”
(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “Castle?! You were planning to crash land in front of a castle?!”
“Well, I wasn’t planning to crash land. But, the surprise is ruined now, so yes. I brought up back to medieval times so you could see a real castle, and real knights. Maybe even a king or a queen.”
She walked over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “That’s so sweet, if not a little scary because I’m sure we would’ve been thrown into a dungeon if we crashed that close to the castle.”
The Doctor chuckled and put his arms around her waist. he was pulling her in for a kiss when they both heard something. They paused to listen. It sounded like heavy thumping against the ground, slowly getting louder and closer. They were pulling away from each other just as a group of men in metal suits of amour, some riding horses, broke through the trees and into the clearing where (Y/N) and the Doctor landed.
Knights.
Knights with pointy weapons aimed at them.
The Doctor pulled (Y/N) close to him, protectively. “Gentlemen, we mean no harm.”
“Who are you?” the lead knight demanded.
“I am the Doctor. This is my...associate, (Y/N).”
(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Years of dating (exactly how many years was still a bit wonky because of timey wimey stuff), and the Doctor was still weird about calling her his girlfriend.
“We’ve come to visit your beautiful land,” the Doctor explained.
“We heard sounds like an explosion,” the knight said, eying the two of them suspiciously.
“That was just...our...carriage?”
The knights shared a look before the lead said, “You’re coming with us to the king.”
Two knights tried to approach to take them, but they assured the knights they’d come willingly. (Y/N) bit her tongue to keep in an “I told you so”. She knew this wasn’t what the Doctor had planned, but it really did just prove her point that there was never an uneventful tried with him.
The two of them were marched to a castle that wasn’t too far from where they had landed. (Y/N) marveled at it as they got closer. It looked exactly like the castles from fairy tales and medieval shows and movies. It was huge with a moat around it. The drawbridge lowered as they got closer, someone obviously watching for their arrival. The group led the two inside, but only three knights ended up bringing them to the king.
He was a younger looking man, surprisingly. (Y/N) was assuming he was going to be an old man, but he was close to her age, and quite handsome. He looked down at them as they approached. When they stopped, he was still watching them, expectantly. It took the Doctor a moment to realize what he was waiting for. “Oh! Bow!”
They moved simultaneously to bow.
“Who are you?” asked the king.
“I am the Doctor, this is (Y/N).”
He raised an eyebrow. “You are a doctor?”
“Well, no. It’s like a...um...a stage name!” The king still looked suspicious. The Doctor turned to (Y/N) as if looking for backup, but she looked just as confused. “We are traveling...magicians. That’s why we have such funny looking clothes, and the loud noise you heard before. We were, um, practicing a trick! Went a bit wrong. We sincerely apologize.”
The king’s gaze turned to (Y/N). His expression seemed to soften greatly when he did, which definitely did not go unnoticed by the Doctor.
“Is this true, my lady?” he asked. “Are you two magicians?”
She nodded quickly.
“We were traveling to see your lovely castle,” the Doctor explained.
The flattery seemed to work, on top of the presence of a beautiful lady, the Doctor was sure.
The king stood from his throne. “It seems there has been a misunderstanding, then. I would like to apologize and offer you both lodgings in the castle for the night.”
The Doctor looked over at (Y/N). Her eyes were shining with excitement at the offer. As much as he wanted to say no and leave, he couldn’t when she looked like that. He plastered on a smile and agreed. The answer delighted the king, who stepped down from his throne to shake their hands. He grasped (Y/N)’s hand very warmly. Even she seemed startled by the gesture.
“My name is King Harold Evergreen,” he said, to both of them but definitely mainly to (Y/N). “I am honored to have you both here.”
~~~~~~
(Y/N) was still marveling at everything hours later. They were shown to the room they would be staying in, which was huge as well. She only got glimpses of the halls and other rooms as they were guided to their room, but King Harold promised an actual tour later on. (Y/N) felt like she was living in a fairytale.
The Doctor, however, was not taken with everything. He had been at first, until they had met the king, and until the king started to show clear interest in (Y/N).
There hadn’t been many times when the Doctor felt such strong feelings of jealousy. Mainly because he never expected for any of his companions to be around for long. Something always happened that made him lose his companions eventually. He always told himself not to get too close or else he’d end up hurt again, and every time he was right. But (Y/N) had stuck around. He let himself get close; he let himself fall in love. And she was still here with him years later.
So, yeah, he didn’t love that a king was taking interest in the woman he loved.
(Y/N) looked over at him. While she was taking it all in, he was sat on the bed with an expression that could only be classified as a pout. She giggled and moved towards the bed. She climbed onto it - literally since the bed was so high up.
“Geez, you could fit, like, ten people in this,” she said. When the Doctor didn’t so much as crack a smile, she poked his side. “Awe, what’s wrong? I thought you wanted to see the castle.”
“I did,” he said. “But now we’ve seen it, and I think we should leave.”
“We can leave in the morning. When will we get the chance to stay in a castle again?”
“We could try again in a few years, when King Harold already has a wife.”
He muttered it, but (Y/N) heard it. An amused smile crossed on her face as she moved closer to him.
“Is someone jealous?” she asked.
The Doctor scoffed. “No, of course not.”
“No, totally. You’re just here literally pouting and being broody because that’s what you do. Of course.” She sat next to him and leaned in so her shoulder was touching his shoulder. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know. We won’t be here for long anyways, and I’m sure his interest in me is just because I am a woman he hasn’t met yet. I’m sure he’s already betrothed to marry someone.”
“Not all kingdoms did betrothals. There were plenty of instances in history where the king was allowed to court whatever woman he wanted and propose to her.”
“Then I’m sure that’s what he’s already done. From what little I know of history, kings his age are supposed to be popping out heirs by now. He probably has a fiancée, and the second we leave he’ll have forgotten about me completely.”
A knock came at the door. (Y/N) got up from the bed and went to open it. Stood there was one of the castle’s maidens with something large in her hands. She curtsied to them both, which caused them to share a look that was a mixture of confusion and amusement.
“Hello, lady (Y/N),” the young woman said. “King Harold has requested I bring this to you. He says he would like for you to wear it when you join him for dinner tonight.”
She passed the object she was holding to (Y/N). As (Y/N) took it, she realized it was a dress. A big, poofy, princess looking dress. If the fabric had been blue or yellow, it would have looked exactly like Cinderella or Belle’s dress. Before (Y/N) could ask anything, the maiden had left. (Y/N) nudged the door closed with her foot and turned back to the Doctor, who looked positively fuming.
“He’ll forget about you completely, hm?” he said.
There was no arguing this time. He had sent her a beautiful gown, and made sure she knew he expected to see her at dinner, but there was no mention of the Doctor joining them. Of course, he was going to anyways, but it was hard to ignore the fact that King Harold was making it very clear that while the Doctor was a guest of the castle, (Y/N) was his guest.
~~~~~~
(Y/N) almost refused to wear the dress, but the Doctor convinced her it would be best to put it on.
“You don’t want to offend him in his own castle,” he reminded her.
Upon seeing her in the dress, the Doctor was able to set aside his jealousy for a moment. She looked absolutely beautiful in it; like a princess. Even though she was trying to hide her delight for the sake of the Doctor’s feelings, he could see that she was ecstatic to be wearing something so beautiful.
He took her hands in his and pulled her close to him. “You look wonderful, my love.”
She beamed at him. “Thank you. Do you think we’d be able to sneak this out tomorrow morning?”
The Doctor chuckled and leaned down to kiss her. While he would rather not carry around the reminder of another man trying to woo her, if (Y/N) wanted to keep the dress, he would make sure they kept it.
Another knock came at the door. (Y/N) moved to answer it again, expecting it to be another maiden. She was surprised to see King Harold stood there instead.
“Your highness,” she said, quickly bowing before she could forget herself.
“No need for that,” King Harold told her. “You are here as my guest. No more need for formalities. I just came to see if you got the present I sent for you.” His eyes wandered over her in a way that made the Doctor’s hands curl into fists. “I see I have gotten my answer.”
“Yes, it’s very lovely. Thank you so much.”
“I’m glad it fit. We have so much clothes laying around the castle from former kings and queens, I was sure there would be something to fit you.”
(Y/N)’s eyes went wide. “This...this belonged to...to a queen?”
“My great grandmother, in fact. The first woman to rule the kingdom on her own. She was near the end of her reign before she met my grandfather, a widower with four children. She married him and took in my grandfather and his siblings.”
It was a lot to process. She was wearing the gown of a former queen. A queen who ruled the country on her own, at a time where that was likely unheard of. She knew the dress had to belong to someone in the castle, but she never even entertained the idea that it belonged to one of King Harold’s ancestors.
She wanted to turn and face the Doctor to share her disbelief with him, but King Harold offered her an arm before she could. “Shall I give you that tour I promised? Dinner will be ready soon, but there is plenty to see between here and the dining hall.”
(Y/N) wasn’t thinking when she accepted the king’s arm. But the Doctor certainly was. He glared at their connected arms as King Harold led (Y/N) from the room. Neither of them had invited the Doctor to come along, but he did anyways. He wasn’t about to leave the two of them alone when it was very clear that King Harold had intentions to make (Y/N) stay in the castle forever.
The king was right in saying there was plenty to see between their room and the dining hall alone. Every hallways was lined with portraits of King Harold’s ancestors. There were official portraits of the rulers themselves, then family portraits of them with their spouses and children. There were many of just the children as well, some looking very professional and some that were obviously painted while the children were at play. King Harold made sure to stop at the pictures of him with his parents.
“I am an only child,” he told (Y/N). “It was very rare. My father had seven siblings himself. And it did not happen due to a lack of trying. Many say that my parents were just not lucky enough to be blessed with a big family.”
There were a number of more health related explanations on the tip of (Y/N)’s tongue, but she knew that was all modern stuff that the king would never understand now.
They finally made it to the dining hall. Just like everything else in the castle, it was a giant room. Probably just as big as the throne room they had been brought into when they first arrived. The table was big enough to seat at least a dozen people, and there was a large stone fireplace set up behind one of the heads of the table - King Harold’s seat, if (Y/N) had to guess. The table was set just for the three of them, with (Y/N) and the Doctor seated across from each other, King Harold in the middle at the head.
I suppose that’s better than being seated on the other end, the Doctor thought to himself.
They took their seats as food was brought into the room. (Y/N) had some struggles to sit, but finally figured out how to arrange the poof of her dress so she could sit comfortably without it being up in her face.
“Are we the only ones dining?” she asked.
“We are the only ones here, besides my staff,” the king responded.
“Your parents aren’t here? Or...or a wife?”
King Harold let out a booming laugh. “No, my parents no longer live here since my father stepped down from being king. That is another rarity, but I would much prefer them to step back and enjoy their older years as opposed to running themselves to death like other rulers usually do. And there is no queen currently. I had yet to pick someone to be my betrothed.”
(Y/N) glanced up at the Doctor. They both noticed King Harold’s choice of word: had.
The meal went on in silence. Or rather, in silence from (Y/N) and the Doctor. King Harold spoke plenty about himself and the history of the land. (Y/N) listened politely, while the Doctor continued to stab at his food.
“Tell me, how does one get into the business of magic?” Harold asked after a while. “It cannot be a profitable line of work for the two of you.”
“Oh...um...” (Y/N) started, trying to come up with a convincible story. “I believe it was the Doctor first who found out he was able to do small tricks. He...well, he met me and I was intrigued enough to follow him in his...journeys.”
The Doctor looked up at (Y/N) and they shared a small smile.
“Yes, but is it truly a fulfilling life?” King Harold asked again.
“I believe so. I have traveled to so many wonderful places that I never would’ve gotten to experience had I not met the Doctor,” (Y/N) said. Quickly she added, “And doing magic, of course. That’s...that’s always...fulfilling.”
“But do you believe you could be happy doing something else? Something more than being the assistant to a traveling magician?”
(Y/N) didn’t like where this was going.
When she didn’t speak, King Harold continued. “See, I have been looking for many years for someone to rule this kingdom by my side. I have met countless princesses and duchesses from other kingdoms, I have met common women from the town, but no one has caught my eye just yet. I am getting to an age where my time to find a wife and to have children of my own is starting to run short, but I am not one to marry just because it is expected of me. I want to marry for love, the way my great grandmother did.”
When King Harold reached for her hand, (Y/N) was too stunned to stop him.
“I believe you would make a perfect queen for this land, my lady,” he said. He started to raise (Y/N)’s hand to his lips when the Doctor suddenly stood, knocking his chair over and the crash putting an end to the moment.
“We’re leaving,” the Doctor said to (Y/N).
“I beg your pardon?” King Harold said.
“I will not stay in this castle for another second and watch you try to proposition my girlfriend.”
“Your what?”
“My love! She is my princess, or queen, or whatever you want to call her.” The Doctor moved around the table to take (Y/N)’s hand and pull her from her seat. “We’re going.”
(Y/N) was nervous that the king would send his guards after them, or at least he would send them after the Doctor and take him away so that King Harold could make her his queen without distraction. To her surprise, he called for someone to show them out. When she looked back at him as they rushed out the door, he seemed genuinely upset for them to go.
The Doctor led (Y/N) through the woods, which had gotten much darker during their time in the castle, and found the TARDIS with ease. He rushed both of them into it and slammed the door behind him. He was muttering to himself, cursing the king and calling him all sorts of names that would’ve gotten his head chopped off if he had said it while they were still in the castle.
After the shock had finally wore off, (Y/N) found control of her body again. She approached the Doctor and put a hand on his shoulder. He instantly fell silent and looked at her.
“I would never say yes,” she said.
“What?”
“To his proposition. I hope you know I would never have said yes to him.”
The Doctor was silent. He looked away from her to face the controls. She realized then that it wasn’t just jealousy that he was feeling.
“Were you worried I would’ve said yes and married him?” she asked.
He didn’t speak at first, but finally he said, “He gave you beautiful clothing, he gave you his undying attention, and he would’ve given you a title that anyone could ever dream of. He could’ve made you a fairytale princess.”
“But he is not you,” (Y/N) said. “Why would I want to spend my life with a man I only just met just because of what physical things he could give me? That is not love. Love is following a man in a bowtie into a police box and letting him take you anywhere in time and space for many years. Love is the willingness to do that again and again and again, because you can’t imagine a life without him anymore.”
There were tears welling up in the Doctor’s eyes. He quickly pulled (Y/N) into an embrace, causing her to laugh as she rested against him.
“I love you,” she said, her voice partially muffled by his tweed jacket.
“I love you, too,” he said.
“And, for the record, maybe you should start calling me your girlfriend when we meet new people. That way they won’t get the wrong idea going forward.”
The Doctor chuckled and pulled away to nod. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”
She pulled him in for a kiss.
As they were finally coming down from the high that the trip had brought them, she realized that she was still wearing the dress from King Harold.
“I told you I would figure out a way for you to keep it,” the Doctor said, with a cheeky grin on his face.
“Yeah, all it took was you risking life in a medieval prison,” she teased.
“The things we do for love.”
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Back in Ten, baby
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Pairing: CEO dom!leaning Jisung x sub!leaning fem reader // established relationship
Scenario: Han instructs you to wear a strap-on and peg him in the hotel after his important business function.
Word Count: 4K approx
MDNI // SMUT - LOTS OF SMUT Content warnings below the cut
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CW: oral sex (both rec), pegging - anal sex with strap on dildo (m rec), collar leash, name calling (slut, cockslut, baby, angel), praise, choking, cum eating, squirting, aftercare, an obsession with Jisung’s ass, feeling up in a semi public place (kind of, but not really), indecency in front of a hotel window
A/N: Just a word of warning. I was unhinged when I wrote this. If you are not into anal play, this isn’t for you because Jisung loves his ass to be played with and y/n is in love with Jisung’s ass. It’s a match made in heaven.
Also... This story was originally posted on my main blog... but because it's a little more flavoursome, I think it belongs over here.
This story was born out of an ongoing discussion with @noellllslut where we both wondered what it might be like if Jisung wanted to be pegged but he wasn’t our subby, needy baby.
This is my version of what it could look like.
Thank you @noellllslut for letting me run some things by you and also getting me worked up and feral thinking about him in this way. I hope I did this story justice.
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“You did so good tonight, Jisung. I’m proud of you.” You kissed your CEO boyfriend on the cheek, as the elevator doors closed once again after letting the last person out of the lift, leaving the two of you alone. Finally.
You’d spent the last four hours at his side while he worked the room and mingled with the investors. Now he was wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you against the mirrored wall of the elevator. Only five more floors to go until you reached the top floor of your shared suite.
“Mister Han!” You exclaimed. “What is that pressing against me? Don’t tell me you’re going to ruin me in a hotel lift?” You leaned into his ear “They have cameras you know?” You whispered. 
Jisung grinned against your neck. “I know.” He answered and slid his hand under your dress and tugged your panties aside. 
“Baby!” You protested and pretended you wanted him to stop.
“That’s Sir to you.” He growled as removed his fingers as the elevator bell dinged indicating you had reached your floor.
“Shit, baby. I just remembered. I need to go back downstairs, I forgot something. You go ahead babe. I’ll only be ten minutes.”
He smacked you affectionately on the ass as you stepped out of the elevator.
“Yes Sir.” You replied suspiciously and smiled to yourself as you made your way to your shared room.
The hotel suite wasn’t the biggest, but it was luxurious with a large, plush bed, couch, widescreen television and a generous bathroom off to the right. A large mahogany desk stood at the far end of the room with a backdrop of floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the city. The view was breathtaking, but your eyes were drawn to something else.
A red box in the middle of the bed. A gift? You sat on the mattress and lifted the lid. Inside was a pile of red tissue paper with a note on top. 
They were instructions. 
“Be a good girl and wear these for me. Be ready in ten minutes.”
Ten minutes. The exact number of minutes Jisung said he’d be before returning to the room.
Cheeky shit.
You peeled open the tissue paper to reveal what exactly it was you were meant to wear and your eyes widened: a strap-on dildo, red collar, and chain leash. 
Lifting the strap-on out of the box and inspecting it, you realised it was massive. Much, much bigger than any of the plugs and dildos he’d gotten you to use on him previously. You’d certainly never used one this big on him, and you’d never used a strap-on before.
You reached back into the box agan and retrieved the thick red leather collar and accompanying leash.
You only had ten minutes to be ready. You took a deep breath, and prepared yourself mentally for how your night was going to unfold, and took your supplies to the bathroom where the lighting was better and you could see what you were doing.
Most of your ten minutes was spent trying to get the strap-on to fit just right. The dildo looked even more alarming in size than you first thought. At a guess it was 8 inches long, but the girth? How he was going to take that up his ass you weren’t entirely sure. But he chose it so he must be confident. Right?
Next, you fastened the collar around your neck and attached the chain, and finally studied yourself in the full length mirror in the corner of the bathroom. 
It felt like such a juxtaposition really. The idea of wearing a strap-on conjured up the idea of the wearer being in charge, dominating a submissive lover, making a needy man or woman desperately beg for his or her hole to be fucked. But the collar and leash around your neck was a stark reminder that you weren’t in control tonight. Your role was to please Jisung, Sir Han, and tonight it seemed Sir Han wanted you to do all the hard work, while he sat back and relaxed.
You considered whether or not to put on a sexy bra and sheer stay ups, but it wasn’t on your instructions, so you decided to simply fix your hair and make up.  
Looking down at your fake cock, you wrapped your fingers around the girth, you couldn’t even get your fingers around it, and pumped it a few times like you always saw Jisung do before he’d push it into your cunt. You imagined pushing it into his tight hole. The way it was going to stretch him open and disappear inside of him. The thought alone had you wet. You were ready.
“Alright,” you said to yourself. “Let’s go fuck your man.”
“So fucking slutty.” a deep voice resonated through the hotel suite when you stepped back into the dimly lit space. You were momentarily startled to find Jisung had already come back into the room and was sat behind his desk. Behind him the full length windows overlooking the city magnified the power he radiated as a CEO. 
“Come.” He gestured for you to come around to his side of the desk, turning his chair towards you and reaching out for your hands as you came to stand in front of him. 
“How are you feeling?” He asked drinking you in.
“Nervous.” You whispered. Jisung smiled at your admission.
“That’s okay, my sweet angel.” He squeezed your hands. “All you have to do is follow what I say.” He reached up to play with the chain of the leash. You felt a heat rise through you at the possibilities of what he could ask of you. 
He let go of your leash letting it drop against your bare skin and slid a hand under his desk to retrieve a round footstool. 
“Sit.” He patted the cushioned top. You did as he asked and sat yourself down on the low seat between his spread legs.
He leaned back in his chair and you blinked up at him with expectant eyes. The corners of his mouth curled upwards into a smirk and he dropped his gaze to your strap-on, and bit his lip hungrily. Maybe he was needy after all?
“Undress me.” He said low, his voice laced with desire.
You moved slowly, placing a hand on each of his knees and running them up his thighs, enjoying the feel of his muscles beneath his trousers. You ghosted your hands over his crotch, you could see he was hard under there, before sliding them up his stomach and chest, all the way to rest on the top button of his shirt. He’d already lost his jacket and tie somewhere along the way, so you didn’t have too much to take off. 
You took your time undoing one button at a time and slowly exposing his chest. Your eyes flickered up to meet his. The way he was looking at you made you flustered and your fingers faltered for a moment.
“You really are nervous, aren’t you baby?” He whispered, while you persevered with his shirt. 
Next, your fingers found his belt buckle and you undid his trousers, allowing you to untuck his shirt and push it off his shoulders and removing it entirely from his body. He didn’t take his hazy eyes off you as he watched you explore his toned chest with your fingertips, eventually trailing them down past his belly button and into the waistband of his trousers. He didn’t need to be asked to lift up while you pulled his pants and underwear from him.
He was truly a marvel to look at. Fully naked in all his glory, the city night lights and moonlight illuminating his skin in the prettiest way. And his cock. So hard. So thick. So irresistible. Sitting there untouched against his hard abdomen.
You could barely wait for your next instruction, and If you actually had a real cock yourself, it’d be throbbing for him and leaking at the tip, just like your cunt ached and was moistening by the second.
Jisung reached out to lazily squeeze one of your breasts making your skin tingle. Your nipple hardened when he rubbed circles over it with the pad of his thumb, and then he grasped onto the leash dangling from your neck. Wordlessly, he tugged on the chain, gently forcing your head down near his cock. Gripping his length with his other hand he rubbed the tip along your bottom lip.
“Open up baby. Suck on it for me.” he wound the leash around his hand and reached up to hold onto the back of your head and pushed you down over his length. It was absolutely fucking delicious and you couldn’t hide how much it pleased you to have him in your mouth.
“That’s it baby. I know you love it, don’t you? My little cockslut. So precious.” he praised as you purred around his dick.
“Let’s see if we can get it all the wa-” his words were cut short as you sunk down entirely onto him until your nose was nestled against his wispy pubic hair. “Oh yes… just like that. Taking me so well.” 
He held you in place so you couldn’t move then pinched your nose closed. “That’s it. Let’s get those eyes watering.” He let go just long enough to let you catch your breath and then pushed you back down and held your nose closed. You felt the head of his cock lodged in the back of your throat while he held you down, cutting off your air supply until your head felt light and fuzzy. Again, he released you and let the air fill your lungs before repeating the same thing two more times. 
Jisung knew you loved it when he did this. He knew how wet you got from it. You had practiced and experimented plenty enough that he knew exactly the number of seconds he could choke you with his cock before it was too much for you. Plus you had your “two taps on the thigh” signal if needed. 
Jisung released you, and while you bobbed up and down his cock, reached over the side of his chair to pull a lever that allowed the backrest to recline 45 degrees. “Baby. You know what you need to do now.” he tapped you on the head with a bottle of lube.
Drunk with lust, you growled in protest as he pulled your mouth off his cock entirely so he could hook a hand underneath his thighs to pull his legs up so he was almost folded in half. His cock, balls and tight little asshole were on display for you, perfect for your next task.
But before you even opened the lube, you couldn’t resist holding onto the base of his cock and leaning down to take his balls in your mouth. He groaned in pleasure as you sucked them in and rolled them around in your warm wet mouth and then hummed around them for good measure.
You released them with a pop, and moved your attention lower. Pressing a palm on each of his cheeks to get him as wide as possible and spat directly onto his hole.
“Fuck!” Jisung hissed when the saliva made contact. You dove in and pressed your tongue against his asshole. Again, Jisung cursed trying to remain calm. You licked around the tight ring of muscle several times, then took your attention back up to his balls, taking them into your mouth again, before coming back down to his hole. You pressed against it with the tip of your tongue until it breached the muscle, making Jisung keen, and then withdrew it. You took your time, giving your attention to all his sensitive parts, including taking his cock back into your mouth every now and then.  
You made everything so wet and slippery with your saliva that you hadn’t even opened the bottle of lube when you slipped your middle finger inside him. Jisung groaned in approval at the intrusion.
“Does that feel good, Sir?” you looked up to see his expression dark and aroused. 
“Fuck yes… another finger. Stretch me out baby…Quickly. Fuck, baby. You’re so dirty with your fingers up my ass?”
You smirked, and took his balls into your mouth while at the same inserted another finger. “Ahhh…yes… fuck me with your fingers. Such a good fucking girl.”
You continued to loosen him up, building up to three fingers, and fucking him with your digits until you felt yourself being jerked up by the leash. Jisung pulled over him so he could kiss you. Your fingers were still lodged inside of him while he invaded your mouth with his tongue and moaned against your teeth.
”Okay, baby.” He peeled his mouth away and looked up at you. “It’s time for you to show me what you can do with that cock of yours.” He reached down and tugged on it like it was an actual dick. “Okay, up.” He tapped you on the ass.
You felt your cheeks redden when you removed your fingers with a loud squelch and placed them inside your mouth sucking them clean. Jisung hummed in approval and stood from his chair pulling up with him. He was all over you in an instant. He held your body against his and you could feel the heat radiating from his dick as it pressed against your stomach beside your fake one. He kissed you long and deep, and it made your knees go weak. How after all this time with him you still swooned you didn’t know. But you loved the giddy feeling.
Your core ached for him, and all you wanted was for him to bend you over the desk and fuck you brutally. But instead it was Jisung who bent over the desk, exposing the two perfect orbs that were his ass, to the world outside the window. He rested himself on his elbows, curving his back and creating an alluring silhouette with his ass poking off the edge just enough to let his cock hang down between his legs and the edge of the desk.
“Get behind me. Baby, listen carefully. I need you to fuck me properly, do you understand?”
You took your place behind him, letting your hands roam over his ass cheeks. So tantalising. “Fuck, Sir. Your’e so perfect.” You adored Jisung with all your being. You stroked his back tenderly and then squeezed his ass cheek, even bending down and taking a gentle bite of the flesh. 
“Fuck, I didn’t say you could tease me.” hissed Jisung. You stood back up and slapped him on the ass. “Sorry Sir, you’re just too delectable” was your reply, and you took the dildo, your “cock”, at the base with one hand and with your other you poured a generous amount of lube onto the tip and smeared it all over the shaft. 
“Is this okay, Sir?” You inquired as you ran the tip between his cheeks back and forth over his quivering hole. 
“Fuck, yes.” He hissed and pushed back onto the dildo. You watched as the ring of muscle expanded and sucked the thick tip inside. You stayed completely still as Jisung let out a relieving groan. “More, baby. Give it all to me.”
You pushed this time, watching more of the toy slip inside. When he’d adjusted you pushed again with your eyes glued to where the massive dildo was lodged halfway in his ass. Yes, you’d fucked him with dildos before, and yes you’d fingered him too, but this simulation of you actually penetrating him as though this dildo was an actual appendage of yours, took this experience to a whole new level.
It looked obscene watching your hips push more and more of the dildo into your boyfriend’s ass, splitting him in two. You used your hands to knead the flesh of his cheeks, helping him relax and stretch, until you had bottomed out and his ass cheeks were flush against your pelvis. This position felt so intimate and you wondered if this was how it felt for Jisung when he fucked you from behind?
Jisung dropped his forehead to the desk between where his forearms rested and began to grind back on you, moaning low. It was mesmerising.
”Baby,” he puffed “It seems im doing all the work here. I thought I told you to fuck me?” he growled.
You snapped out of your trance and went to work. You grasped onto both his ass cheeks, spreading them wide to give you ultimate access, and pulled the dildo halfway out and then slowly pushed it back in to the hilt. You immediately withdrew again and pushed back deep inside. Jisung cried out on the impact. Your hands moved to hold onto his hips so that on the next thrust you could guide him back to meet your pelvis in a powerful smack. 
You knew what it felt like to get your holes fucked and you allowed yourself to imagine what this was feeling like for Jisung. It felt incredible having a cock stretch your holes open and drag against your inner walls. You knew how incredible it felt when your Jisung reached the deepest parts of your soul, or the way it felt when you were being used as nothing but a cock sleeve. 
All these thoughts had your cunt gushing and you picked up the pace, slamming yourself into Jisung over and over. The sound of his ass and balls slapping against you on each snap of your hips resonated throughout the room. His leaking cock repeatedly swang back and hit your thigh, leaving cum stuck to your skin. 
Jisung propped a leg up on the desk. “Fuck me harder, deeper. Show me how bad you want it. Show me how bad you wish you had a real cock.” He demanded.
This new position meant you could thrust even deeper and at an angle that was becoming impossibly too much for Jisung. He was starting to lose composure and his noises were becoming more like whimpers. He was losing the upper hand. He was losing control. You could tell he was so very close to cumming.
”Pull out. Baby. Stop for me.” He panted and started to stand up and push you off him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and push him back down flush against the table and pound into him until he exploded all over the floor, But you listened to your lover regardless. What if he was sore? 
Jisung turned around and cupped your cheek and ran his thumb along your lip. He looked at you with fucked out eyes and an expression that could kill. He must’ve been close and didn’t want it to be finished, you concluded.
“Now my sweet angel.” He tugged at your lip forcing it open and shoving his thumb inside. It took all your self control not to let your eyes roll back into your head.
”On your hands and knees.” You immediately dropped to the floor and Jisung held onto your leash. “Now follow me.” He instructed, leading you away from the desk towards the bed with you crawling behind him like an obedient dog. He picked you up and threw you on the bed, climbing on top of you immediately. 
“So fucking beautiful.” He said kissing your neck and fondling your tits. “Beautiful. So perfect.” He praised you as he made his way down to where the dildo was strapped to you. You thought maybe he was going to take it off. Maybe he was ready to fill you with his cock and come deep inside your pussy. Or maybe your ass? Maybe it was his turn to fuck your ass? Oh your body ached to be touched. Your cunt needed to be filled. You knew you’d be so fucking wet that he’d slide right on in with no resistance.
But Jisung didn’t remove the strap-on. He sunk his mouth over it instead. “Now who’s a cockslut.” You said. Jisung’s eyes sprang open and you knew you’d pushed his buttons. But you didn’t care. Sometimes this is how you two played.
He was on top of you again in a heartbeat, caging you in, staring into your eyes. “Takes one to know one.’ He replied and raised an eyebrow. Then a hand came to rest at your collar. Please choke me. You thought to yourself. 
“Cocksluts shouldn’t be bratty otherwise they might miss out on the thing they love most.” He teased. “I think the best thing I can do is demonstrate what’s expected of a good little cockslut.” 
He carefully removed your collar and to your surprise secured it around his own neck. Then he hovered over your dildo, grabbing it with one hand as he lowered himself down over the entire length, impaling himself on your fake cock. His eyes rolled back into his head as his body adjusted. It was the most exquisite thing you’d ever seen Jisung do. He leaned back and rested his hands behind him next to your legs and began to lift up and sink back down over the dildo. He built up the pace and intensity of the thrusts, eventually planting his feet down beside you and using his legs as leverage to really slide up and down and fuck himself incredibly hard. 
You could see absolutely everything from this angle. His thigh muscles working hard. The thick dildo appearing and disappearing into his ass. Heavy cum-filled balls bouncing up and down. His painfully engorged erection hitting his taut abs on every thrust. The way his stomach muscles contracted. His hardened nipples. The veins in his neck straining from under the collar. His tongue hanging from his mouth. His eyes squeezing tight in pleasure-pain. The beads of sweat dripping down his forehead. You could see all of this from your position on the bed underneath him. 
“I love you Jisung.” You couldn’t keep it contained. He just looked too beautiful.
He opened his eyes and smiled at you. “I love you too. Look what you’ve done to me, I’m so fucking close, baby.” He choked. 
You took that as your cue to grasp your fingers around his cock and start pumping it. 
“I’m gonna cum. Be a good girl and catch as much as you can, okay.” 
You aimed his cock towards you as he came, spurting ropes of come towards your open mouth. You tried to catch as much as you possibly could on your tongue, the rest landing across your face, chin and tits. 
Jisung lifted off the dildo and flopped on the bed to catch his breath, then he removed the collar and the strap-on and used the tip of the dildo to scoop us as much cum as he could from your chest and face. “Open up baby.” He whispered and pushed the dildo into your mouth. “Good baby. Good girl. Lick that clean now.” He encouraged. “That’s it.” He removed it from your mouth and tossed it to the side along with the collar and leash.
“Now let’s see how wet you are after this” he shuffled down between your legs and pried them open as far as they would go. “Dripping wet.” He observed. You barely had a moment to prepare when his face was buried between your legs, his tongue eagerly lapping at your neglected holes. You arched your back off the bed and cried out your Jisung’s name when he easily slipped three fingers into your cunt in one go. It only took half a dozen thrusts of his digits against your sweet spot, and a couple of suckles of your clit and you were exploding all over him. Everything had tensed up so tight, that when your release hit you you squirted all over his face.
“Yes… yes baby make a fucking mess for me. That’s my girl.” He praised and proceeded to lick up as much of your juices as possible.
You were both such a sticky, sweaty, fluid-covered mess, yet you both couldn’t stop kissing each other. Tongues were deep in each other’s mouths. Your bodies were still grinding together until Jisung found himself hard again.
He fucked you slow and deep, professing his love to you and coaxing another orgasm for your body while he came deep inside you. 
Eventually he ran a bath and carried you in where you both cleaned each other up, before playfully bickering about who was going to call room service to change the sheets.
If you enjoyed this story and want to read my short scenario where reader comes home to find Ji pleasuring himself with her dildo, you can find that here.
@channieandhisgoonsquad @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @queen-in-the-shadows @queenmea604 @newhope8 @minnieprincess77 @itshannjisung you have all been tagged in the original but would super appreciate if you like and share this one too.
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goodluckclove · 22 hours
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Various "Failures" From My Google Docs
Good morning! I'm at my usual coffee shop and got inspired by the troubles of a few friends to embarrass myself.
Sit down with me. I'm enjoying my usual blended chai. There's room on the couch if you'd like to join me.
So I've written thirteen novels. I think thirteen, I've actually lost count. Let's say, like, five full-length plays and twelve to fourteen finished novels. Impressive, right? Maybe. I'm realizing that I consider that not much of a brag, if only because I know the amount of trips and stumbles it took to get to one completed project.
I've ditched a lot of ideas. A lot. If I need to I can dig into my old hard drives to find all the doc files from my youth, but I also have the same Google Docs I've had since middle school.
It's mostly plays and ghostwriting assignments, but if you did you'll find some snippets from my constant attempts at growth.
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Some stuff like this is okay. The line "hair slicked back/suit black silk" is pretty good, but a little too the writer thinks they're clever for me now. I don't really remember where I planned to go with this. I think the narrator was somehow going to be given the identity of Roy Fontaine. I was really fixated on the surname Fontaine at the time. I don't know why.
But then there's also a lot of stuff like this:
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Hey look it's Fontaine again! I guess he's a doctor, too! Also I am astounded by how casually the main character just pulls out the Necronomicon. He pulls it out? From where? His pocket? Is it a zine?
I don't know why, but something about how suddenly this jumps in terms of dropping specifics makes me think that Sonic the Hedgehog is about to show up. I can't explain it.
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This is the only thing in a Doc titled "Psychosis". I have zero memory of what I was planning on doing with this. What's kind of crazy though is that I wrote this in 2014, and six years later I'll use essentially this exact bit in a finished novel without even realizing it.
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Another bit from 2014. No clue what I planned to do with this. It's hilarious to me that something stopped me from finishing the sentence. What am I, Franz Kafka writing The Tower? I didn't die. I wasn't raptured. I just apparently tried to think of something a large oak door would do and immediately gave up. It was 2014 I had finished, like, four novels. And this idea was fully stalled by what had to be a fucking huge oak door.
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My favorite part of this radio play I tried to write is that somehow, believe it or not - when I wrote this I did not fully understand the Quantum Suicide thought experiment. And for along time I still kind of thought that this could be salvaged into a good idea, until last night when I asked my wife to put on a video describing the experiment and I immediately found it so dumb. Just ridiculously stupid. The only good thing about Quantum Mickey is that the title kicks ass and I'm definitely keeping it for something.
I've written a lot. A lot. I've earned the severity of carpal tunnel I currently have. If I had to put it into a statistic, I'd say maybe seventy percent ends up finished. fifty percent ends up polished to be read or published. Thirty percent actually ends up being read or published. I'm okay with this, because I enjoy the work. But for me, part of enjoying the work is not panicking when a project doing work.
If I need to end a project in the middle of a sentence, I do. I've clearly proven that I do. Sometimes I write for thirty pages and lose interest, other times I get a paragraph in and get distracted forever. That's okay.
That's okay. As long as you're doing something.
I could've included segments of Carnation, my first novella that was supposed to be a novel but I never finished it. But I fucking guess that's getting it's own post when I hit 150 followers so I hope you're prepared for what the type of stuff I enjoyed in middle school.
There's an Irish child that speaks exclusively in slang. You aren't ready.
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update on the whole boycott usa thing
so i've been reflecting on what things i actually use and might be giving money to that are from the usa. and while 'i only buy books and music and locally grown food' is kinda true (rip to my beloved Beyond burgers, I'm still not sure what to do with you) i've realised something a lot more meaningful than policing what i eat (dangerous) or being too critical about the artists i support just because of where they were born (slippery slope into something i don't believe in), is to have a look at the tech I use on a regular basis and where my use of technology is putting power. and i've come to realise a kind of monopoly i never really saw before?
adobe, microsoft and google (as well as meta, i'm still not sure what to do with him) are probably the biggest ones i use for work and study and communication. and i can't actually afford adobe suite and if i quit my job i won't have microsoft office either, so it's a good time for me to find alternatives i'm actually happy with. i also need a new browser. poor firefox, they do so well, and they're not quite Big Tech (so idk, the jury's not fully out on them) but i'd like to see if there is just one that isn't usamerica silica valley yk?
good news! vivaldi browser is norwegian and idk. i'm happy with that. all i'm trying to boycott is Big Tech, that brings power that rattles around eventually into a war system, potentially, i don't know the ins and outs but i can give it my best guess, and we've never even heard of them, never heard of Norway having a big stake in tech, I'd love to be part of changing that!! it's still the global north but. small steps. i also am pretty happy with how the norway govt has responded.
also, the other big one i use is musescore to do music stuff. they also own audacity!! did you know that?? they're based in cyprus. the things that you learn.
libreoffice, which i've heard good things about, as well as ecosia, which i've used as my search engine for almost a decade, and viva designer, the only half decent and affordable alternative to adobe i could find, are all based in germany. and as much as i love their recycling policies it also has me wondering. is this just as bad? i'm not sure what else i can do without completely going off the grid and hand drawing everything or starting a plumbing apprenticeship (which would require me dropping out of uni and buying a car, not impossible, but i like urban design and can't afford an electric car yet let alone one that is Tradie Appropriate and Not Being Boycotted)
anyway, i hope you can make use of my research. and please weigh in!! is supporting tech from germany the exact same thing?? again i'm not trying to be racist and i know it's a line i have to be careful to walk. but i am trying to strategically boycott and hopefully in a sustainable way that others, if they choose, can get on board with too. and it feels like it's silica valley or germany. coles or woolworths. where is my aldi? is there an aldi?
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snek-panini · 3 days
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The last of my Binderary books, #10 and #11, are here! This is The Mathematical Improbability of Reaching the Stars by cassieoh and D20Owlbear and it is another very long fic that I had to split into two volumes. It's a wonderful Good Omens human!AU with believable relationship development and very likeable OCs. I like to go into summaries at this point in my binding posts but I have trouble pinpointing the reason I like this one so much. It's just compelling and I like spending time with these characters. It reads like an original story and yet it's undeniably a GO fic. I don't know how else to phrase it.
I had a major disappointment with the bind, though. As you can no doubt see in the photos above, there was major glue leakage when I did the htv and it ruined my book cloth. That's a homemade paper-backed cloth and it's this wonderful textured green fabric (I think it's polyester but it's shiny and lightweight) but it did not like that silver foil htv At All. Really sad that it turned out like that. The silver leaves were also an absolute nightmare to weed. So many teeny tiny pieces, and I had to do four of them. I stand by the design, it's very pretty and I still think it fits the book, but I have got to find another option for putting titles on homemade cloth. I've done five of them now and I have this issue every time.
More photos under the cut! It is still a very pretty set, even with the cover issues.
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You can see the fabric texture really well on the backs, and there's no glue issue there either. Part of me wishes I'd left the front covers blank like the backs. I love how the spines turned out; that's black faux leather and it always takes htv like a champ. I like how I did the titles here too. I really wanted them on the spines but it's such a long title that I'd have had to scrunch it down really small to make it fit. Weeding tiny text is always a pain and it limits the fonts you can use and still be legible, but splitting it up like this? Love it. Looks so good on my shelf.
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Silver foiled edges! I had trouble getting the foil to stick, like always, but I ended up sort of layering it over the unstuck parts and got this kind of patchy look that I love. Handmade double core endbands, and this is one of the most complex patterns I've done in endbands so far. I love them and think they came out really beautiful.
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The endpapers are this beautiful chiyogami leaf pattern. I bought these for this fic before I'd even started typesetting it because I knew they'd be perfect. Chiyogami is my favorite thing to use for endpapers lately, I love it so much.
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I went really simple on the typeset here. It's a contemporary story, as opposed to a lot of the historical and fantastical ones I tend to bind, and I thought the sleek typeset suited it. I'm not as in love with the title page as I could be but I do like it. It's about the text, not the flourishes, once you get into the meat of the story.
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One fun typesetting thing I was able to do with this one happened in the headers and footers. Usually I do page numbers at the bottom, author's name on the top left and title on the top right, but the combination of two authors and a really long title meant the headers got really unwieldy. They were too long and bled into the body text. So I split them up like this, and I love it! Looks so sleek. I've been looking for an excuse to do it like this again on other typesets but it hasn't fit anything yet.
And that's that! I asked for author permission for these but never heard back, so I hope they're both ok with what I did. I'm overall pleased with the results (and in love with parts of it) and I know what I still need to work on.
This is the last of my Binderary books! 11 is too many! I'm never doing that many books in a month again! Now I've got everything posted I feel like I can move on to new projects, though it may be a bit before I have any new books to post. I've got a format experiment in mind.
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wade-a-minute · 2 days
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Deadpool's voice and its media portrayals
I read this post by @jhirowolf and @spider-mand, which inspired me to make my own post specifically about dp's voice - please read the og post first!
In the comics it's known that Deadpool has a unique voice - his speech boxes are yellow while everyone elses' are white. What makes it unique is its quality (it's described as rough, raspy and gravelly) but I also think that it's its cadence too (i'll get in to this below). Unfortunately, Ryan's voice in the movies doesn't really come close to this - for multiple reasons.
Ryan's voice physically is very smooth and also pretty high but I get the sense that as dp, he doesnt really do much for his voice, he is pretty much just himself and cracking jokes. As @jhirowolf pointed out, he kind of has this smooth, sarcastic tone. For me the vibe is that of a stereotypical side-character who mumbles sarcastic comments at whatever the other characters are doing. Ryan's voice is often mellow, calm and even
I dont have concrete examples right now, but in the comics SO many characters call Wade insane mere minutes upon meeting him, despite the fact that they dont know anything about him apart from the fact that he is a mercenary.
Why? Because of his voice!
Immediately upon hearing him talk they conclude he is unhinged and unstable and generally unwell. He's loud, aggressive, speaks a mile a minute and on top of that makes dark jokes serious situations that no one else laughs at. It freaks people out and rightfully so! Adding on to this, I think he varies his pitch and rhythm frequently, further making him appear unstable because his voice is never even or monotone for more than a few seconds. I'm basing this on the fact that his speech bubbles are so much bigger than everyone else's (he talks a lot) and also bc he varies his facial expressions and body language a lot when he speaks.
@jhirowolf mentions that Denis Leary was the inspiration for his voice, which i had no idea about but looking at this video, I think his cadence is perfect. You feel that unlimited energy, the loudness, the unpredictableness, his voice and the look behind his eyes make him seem manic and frantic - which it should! It puts people on edge around him, gives him his reputation of being unpredictable and also makes him regard him as insane. Wade doesnt give a shit about norms for socializing, how loud or crass he is - hes got shit to say and hes gonna say it, no matter how much it may annoy, offend or make others uncomfortable
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i think the teaser trailer for the first movie could be Ryans best work when it comes to wades voice
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Conversely, this video could be the worst:
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Like this is purely Ryan, theres no deadpool here. its just his own shameless self-promo in a dp suit
Nolan's voice, on the other hand, isn't perfect either bc it kind of has the similar smooth quality as ryans, its not gravelly, raspy or anything. But his cadence is soo good! He's calm one minute but you never know when he's gonna snap and lose his shit, i love it
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And yeah, Nolan's performance and the funny moments are the only good thing to come out of this game (well i guess another positive is that it made him more popular, it certainly was one of my first encounters which made me interested in him). The bad thing is the amount of damage it did to the complexity of dp's character - they stripped away his layers, the serious and tragic parts that make up who he is, instead of this they literally gave him 1 trait - insane. And that was it. I blame Way's 2008 run for this bc he essentially did the same thing - but the game turned it up to 11. Way at least included several serious and earnest moments where Wade was forced to be introspective and face his issues
in conclusion - so far our ears havent yet been blessed to hear wade's voice
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