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#this was very classy and fun to write
frogspawned · 1 month
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i think, at the end of the day, you have to respect the work you are adapting. a writer doesn't have to be a fan of the source material, or strictly follow the primary story, but you have to understand what made it good, what made it appealing, and what it meant to say.
i would say netflix's dungeon meshi rigorously follows the original manga, often panel for panel, to great effect. it's an excellent adaptation that understands the themes and character of the work. it celebrates it for what it is. conversely, i'd argue that amc's interview with the vampire is spectacular precisely because of the way it breaks from canon. it actively 'yes, and's the book, imo, thoughtfully exploring the themes on its own terms. changes are not inherently bad, nor is a perfect replica inherently good.
you can like a work, and not understand it. you can understand it and not be a fan. but if you can't respect it, you should just be writing original work.
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breekento · 3 months
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A lot of people describe and give Nanami and Higuruma the same character traits and personalities and while I do think they are similar in terms of overworked and tired men in suits, I think they are very different. (This is all my own head cannons don’t get mad at me)
Nanami, to me, at least is more quiet and reserved than Higuruma. He is more serious. Physically, he’s much more muscular and husky. As a partner I think he would be extremely protective and nurturing, always providing and nurturing. Although he is protective, I don’t think it comes from a place of jealousy but of a place of not wanting to lose you. Getting angry with you for forgetting to lock the door or inviting someone in that he didn’t know. I feel like he has very expensive and loud taste, I.e. the cowprint tie, the goggles, he has a very interesting style that has fun patterns and colors while still maintaining the mature and elevated appearance. I don’t think Nanami has a casual bone in his body when it comes to his clothing. Maybe his idea of “casual” would be slacks and a short sleeve button up. If anything, pajamas would be his only outfit that isn’t professional enough to wear to work. He just seems like the type of man to care about his appearance and always wanted to be perceived in a mature manner. I hate when people try to dress him in streetwear like that is not my man.
Higuruma is more sarcastic and goofy. I imagine him poking fun more than Nanami and having a very dry and sarcastic humor that a lot of people wouldn’t get. To me, I always imagine him as being more tall and lanky rather than muscular. Long legs, long arms, long fingers, just long. And you know what they say about skinny guys 🙈 As a partner I think he would be very romantic. I write him in my fics to be very dramatic about his love, like he would die if he couldn’t have you. He seems very all or nothing. I think his taste is more simple than Nanami’s. Wearing more classic suits and ties. I think Higuruma would dress much more casually than Nanami, even wearing jeans. Still very simple though, like denim, solid color tops and jackets that are well taken care of and styled. Maybe it’s the hair but I imagine him suiting a more “greaser” type aesthetic but with a classy twist like a silk white button up instead of a cuffed white short sleeve shirt.
I don’t know why I wrote this but I’ve been thinking about their similarities and differences for a minute now and just had to share.
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ellemj · 4 months
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Half-Tongue Rule: 12 Days of Smut #1
Bucky Barnes x Reader One-Shot
Summary: A little Asgardian liquor and a whole lot of tension leads to a teeny tiny bit of smut between you and a certain jealous super soldier.
Warnings: profanity, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, teasing, public teasing, jealous!Bucky, slight DUBCON if you consider it so, alcohol consumption, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 9k (I'm very sorry)
A/N: Thank you to @littlemiss-yeehaw for both catching my mistakes in writing and helping with warnings. She's the reason I don't give in to my daily urge to delete my whole blog lmao. Also, I apologize for this being an hour later than planned. It has been a day. This is just a lil baby smut but I think each day of this event will get filthier and filthier as I get closer to my favorite storylines.
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         You hate parties. You hate the amount of alcohol that people seem to need to consume just to enjoy each other’s company. You hate the way you feel obligated to stay for a certain length of time just to appease the host. You especially hate the way parties make it hard to even hear your own thoughts. Or maybe you just hate Tony Stark’s parties, specifically. His parties are classy, yet overly loud and hard to break away from when you’re ready to leave. However, you still accepted the Christmas party invitation that Pepper so kindly emailed you three weeks ago. It would’ve been too difficult to come up with a fake excuse for missing it when half of you live in the same building.
         So, that’s what led you here, taking the elevator up to the top floor of Stark Tower, standing with your back pressed against the cold metal wall as you listen to the chatter of the various SHIELD employees who piled into the elevator with you. The only familiar faces on the ride up are Sharon and Wanda. The three of you arrived together, but you know as soon as the elevator lets you out into the party, they’ll both disappear into the crowd to be social butterflies. Your dress is so thin that the cool temperature of the elevator wall sends a chill down your spine, making you regret having left your winter coat downstairs like everyone else.
         The sound of music playing through the speakers just a little way higher in the elevator shaft reaches your ears and you take a deep breath. You remind yourself that parties are supposed to be fun and that you put all of this effort into looking hot as fuck, you need to find a way to enjoy the night. You tell yourself to be free and have a little fun, not to hide away in a corner refusing to have even one drink, and not to rush out of here before it’s been at least an hour.
         When the elevator slows to a halt and starts filing out to join the lively, festive gathering ahead, your legs refuse to carry you forward. The lower half of your body hasn’t quite gotten the whole be free and have a little fun memo yet. Wanda shoots you a disapproving look paired with a small frown and shakes her head before reaching out and wrapping an arm around your waist. She pulls you along with her and suddenly, you’re immersed in Christmas music and Christmas cheer.
         “Don’t be a buzzkill. Have a few drinks for once and loosen up, you’re can be the life of the party when you’re a little drunk.” Wanda commands, ushering you a few steps further away from the elevator. You’re about to remind her that she’s only ever seen you drunk once, and that it’s been over a year since then, but as soon as her eyes land on Vision across the room, she’s gone. You find yourself standing alone in your little burgundy dress. You take a moment to let your eyes roam over the crowd, noticing how almost everyone is in black or navy. You see a couple of women in forest green dresses, and even one in a dress that’s as white as snow, but no one else is wearing the same color as you. Damn. That’ll make it a little harder to blend in in the corner.
         You let out a soft sigh before pushing your loosely curled hair back over your shoulder and turning to the left to head to the small bar. One drink. You can have one drink and pretend like you’re enjoying this before you make your great escape. Though the expansive room is quite crowded with people, the bar itself isn’t so bad. The bartender is quick to pass you your glass of whiskey neat as he shoots you a kind smile. You’re only one sip in when you notice the bartender’s eyes look past you, over your shoulder, at someone else. You await the inevitable approach of whoever it is that’s behind you as you savor the slight burn of the whiskey trickling down your throat.
         “You showed.” Sam’s voice rings out from behind you. He steps up to the bar and rests his elbows on it, standing a little to your left. You turn to face him and find him grinning from ear to ear. His infectious smile has always made you feel a little more at ease, and so you find yourself relaxing the tiniest bit in his presence. You lift the glass to your lips and take a second sip. Sam studies you while he waits for a beer, taking in your deep burgundy dress and your quiet demeanor. He knows parties aren’t your thing, but he also knows you can be more fun than just about anyone he’s ever met when you have a little bit of alcohol coursing through your veins. It’s not that you need to drink to be a fun person, but you keep yourself so reined in, so on task most of the time, that you forget to live. When you drink, you let yourself relax a little and your guard goes down just enough for you to have a good time without overthinking it. “Whiskey neat?” Sam asks, eyeing your drink of choice. You nod your head and drag your fingertip around the rim of your glass, glancing down at the amber-colored liquid.
         “I wanted to look mysterious and brooding. Holding a glass of whiskey makes a girl look mysterious and brooding, right?” You ask jokingly, giving Sam a small smile. He chuckles and stands up straight as the bartender presses a bottle of beer into his hand. He turns to fully face you now but his gaze continues to span across the room until it lands on a certain super soldier. Bucky stands tall beside one of the floor-to-ceiling windows, dressed in a well-fitted pair of black dress pants with an even better-fitted black button up adorning his torso. You take in the unusual sight of his vibranium arm on display. You’ve never seen him with his sleeves rolled up like this before. He looks a bit like a successful CEO of some company that earns him a few million dollars a year, especially with those gold accents in the crevices of his arm. You can’t seem to tear your gaze away from the man who you’ve been strategically avoiding at all costs.
         “If you want to look mysterious and brooding, you should talk to the cyborg over there. He has that look down pat.” Sam says with a laugh. He won’t say it to either of you out loud, but Sam thinks you and Bucky are so similar that you could’ve been cut from the same cloth. He knows people say that opposites attract, but he has to wonder if that’s always the case. To anyone else, it would seem like you and Bucky hate each other, even though you work together so seamlessly in the field. Sam has witnessed an odd sort of vibe between the two of you multiple times before, something that walks a very thin line between hatred and sexual tension. Neither of you have ever given Sam enough solid evidence that it’s anything besides a mutual dislike, but he can tell. He may not know just how right he is about the two of you, but he knows something is there.
As if Bucky could feel your eyes on him, he turns his head ever-so-slightly and meets your gaze. His blue eyes are always so piercing, seeing right through you and making you feel on edge for absolutely no reason. The moment he looked at you was the moment you should’ve put your drink down and switched to water for the rest of the evening. But when Thor arrived a few moments later, bearing the gift of Asgardian liquor, you decided to drink your demons away for one night.
---
         “What’s going on over there?” Sam’s question catches the attention of the small crowd of Avengers that are gathered around one end of the bar, as he points across the bar where you and Thor seem to be engaged in a more-than-friendly conversation. Sharon smiles deviously and Bucky’s jaw clenches, already hating where this is going.
         “Thor’s trying to close the deal with her. He gave her a little Asgardian liquor, and I think it’s going to pay off for him.” She explains, lifting her colorful drink to her lips and taking a long sip. Bucky watches you closely for a moment, picking up on the fact that you’re definitely past tipsy. Thor is seated on a barstool and you stand in front of him, laughing at something he’s just said as he smiles down at you. Bucky’s jaw clenches again when he sees you playfully rest a hand on Thor’s knee. Bucky would like to think that your hand is there for balance, but he knows that’s not what this is. Not at all. He scoffs and finishes off his own glass of whiskey.
         “It’s not going to pay off for him.” Bucky mumbles, trying to ignore the unfamiliar feeling that’s rising up in his chest. Jealousy. You wouldn’t go for a guy who’s shamelessly flirting with you after liquoring you up, just to get you into bed. You thrive off of banter, off of arguing with someone to the point of wanting to shut them up with your body. Bucky isn’t positive, but he’s fairly sure that he knows this about you. He picks up on the way you come alive when the two of you end up in a heated argument after a mission goes awry, he picks up on the way your frustration in the field brings about a different kind of tension between the two of you on the trips back to the compound. You aren’t the type to fall head over heels for a few compliments and a pretty face, even if the guy is a god. Thor would be too easy for you. And if Bucky has learned anything about you after butting heads with you for the past two months, it’s that you like a challenge more than anything.
         “It looks like it is.” Sam claims, pointing a finger in your direction now. Bucky looks again and sees Thor leaning in close to you, whispering something in your ear that makes your cheeks a little more pink. He catches himself squeezing his whiskey glass so hard that it might’ve shattered if he hadn’t released it onto the bar. Thor rises from the barstool, towering over you by at least a foot, shoots you a suggestive look, and then walks past you. Everyone watches as he heads straight for the elevator, making a quick exit from the party, everyone except Bucky. He’s focused on you as you turn your whole body to see Thor walk away. It’s clear that he’s daring you to follow him out, to run off somewhere for a late-night rendezvous, anyone can see that. Sam and Sharon have seemingly lost interest in the situation at hand and they quickly dive into their own conversation. Bucky continues watching you closely, his eyes narrowed and zoned in on you, as you finish off your drink and set your glass down on the bar. When you finally look back up, you look straight at him. As soon as your eyes meet his, he notices the way every muscle in your body tenses. Fuck it.
         His walk is confident, nearly cocky, and you can tell he’s seething. You watch him so carefully as he makes his way through the crowded room, noticing how everyone parts as soon as they see him coming. He’s clearly sporting a bit of a mood and no one here would dare be on the receiving end of that. As Bucky approaches you, his eyes bore into yours, with no trace of a smile or kind greeting to be found behind his blue eyes. You swallow hard, getting ready for one of his signature scoffs or briefly worded insults.
         “Bucky—” You start, ready to diffuse whatever argument your sometimes-field partner is about to begin with you. He doesn’t even slow down as he nearly barrels into you, his vibranium hand wrapping around your wrist, forcing you away from the bar. He turns you around roughly and pushes you in front of him, straight through a corner door that he’s throwing open with his right hand. Suddenly, you’re immersed in even dimmer lights as he closes the door behind him, effectively shutting the two of you off from the rest of the party. His grip on your wrist loosens and you can smell the soft tinge of the same whiskey you’ve been drinking tonight on his lips. The music is muffled in here and it helps you get ahold of your thoughts before you turn to face the little shit that dragged you in here against your will. When you turn around, Bucky stands still in front of the door, his vibranium hand uncharacteristically unobscured by any sort of glove. It gleams in the low light and distracts you for a brief second, before you look up at him.
         “What the hell, Bucky?” Your voice is raspy from the burn of the whiskey and Asgardian liquor. It feels a bit like you swallowed rocks, but the buzz it all gave you is worth it. As annoyed as you should be with Bucky right now for manhandling you like he’s anything but your occasional partner in the field, you can’t help but think about how fucking hot he looks tonight. His dark pants show off just how muscular his legs are, specifically his thighs. They also show off just how well-endowed he is in a different department, but you try hard not to think about that. Bucky catches you looking him up and down, unfortunately, as you’re not the slyest when you’ve been drinking liquor that works against even a super soldier’s metabolism.
         “Eyes up here, sweetheart.” His tone is patronizing, but his words send an all-too-familiar heat rushing between your legs. You instinctively listen to him, shifting your eyes up to meet his. His command felt almost lustful to you but his gaze is harsh. Maybe you just felt like it was lustful because you wanted it to be. You do tend to get a little horny when you’ve been drinking, and with the Asgardian buzz, everything starts to seem a little porny. You swallow, closing your mouth and waiting for the man to say anything else. He takes his time choosing his words, as he lets his eyes rake over your body just like your eyes raked over his a moment ago. He didn’t get a good enough look at your dress when you were all the way across the bar, but now he’s decided that he fucking hates it.
         “Bucky?” You prompt, tilting your head to the side, trying to get him to look in your eyes again. When he finally does, his gaze remains cold and harsh.
         “You showed up at a party just to get drunk and go home with Thor?” He questions, his tone both accusing and condescending. You scoff, taking a step backward and crossing your arms over your chest. This small action lifts your breasts and you notice Bucky’s eyes briefly lower to steal a glance. God. He wishes he’d found a darker closet to force you into.
         “Fuck you for that.” You spit back at him, narrowing your eyes and shooting daggers in his direction. He laughs lowly and watches as you wobble a bit on your heels, the buzz from the liquor developing into more of a state of drunkenness as your body struggles to metabolize it.
         “You would fuck me. You’d fuck anyone after drinking what he gave you.” Bucky tosses out the insult with ease, a cocky smirk painted on his face. You run your hands through your hair, wondering when the room started tilting to one side.
         “I wouldn’t fuck you, but anyone else maybe. What are we doing in here, James?” You ask, looking around the small, empty supply closet that you seem to be in. You take one step back and lean against the wall behind you for a little support. Bucky chuckles at the sight of you, making such an effort to fight off his insults and maintain your balance at the same time. He’s never really been around you when you’ve been drinking, and he finds it unbelievably amusing.
         “Are you lying to yourself or just to me?” His voice is lower now, a little quieter and a lot more charged with something. You want to say it’s charged with lust, but again, the porny haze might just be from your own point of view. However, Bucky is feeling that porny haze in the air as well. Hell, Bucky’s the one creating it. You push his question to the back of your mind, focusing on what you want to know. If he would just hurry up and tell you why he forced you into a damn supply closet, you could walk out of here and head downstairs to find Thor and start having some real fun.
         “Let’s try this one last time, what are we doing in here?” You repeat, pushing yourself away from the wall and stepping closer to him? You’re only a foot apart from each other now, and you can see him much better from this distance in the low lighting.
         “I’m keeping you from making a stupid decision.”
         “No, you’re kind of cockblocking, if you even know what that is.” You retort, rolling your eyes and turning to the left as you reach for the door handle. Bucky quickly reaches out with his flesh hand, wrapping his fingers around your wrist and forcing your arm away from the door. He doesn’t let go of your wrist this time.
         “You’re not sleeping with him.” He says firmly. You look down at where he’s gripping your wrist before looking back up at him, narrowing your eyes once more.
         “Why the hell do you think you get a vote?”
         “I’m not voting, I’m vetoing it. You’re drunk.”
         “I don’t need you to protect me, Barnes. Contrary to popular belief, I can take care of my damn self.” You snatch your hand away from him, thinking he’ll release his grip when you do, but he only tightens it and uses the leverage to pull you against him. Your chest crashes against his and you can feel his breath fan across your face. He smells like whiskey and light cologne, and his body heat emanates through his thin button-up shirt. A few less-than-holy thoughts speed through your mind. For a second, you worry he might be able to read your partially drunken thoughts with his intense stare. Bucky’s jaw clenches and he fights the urge to shove you against the wall and fuck you right here.
         “Then go home and take care of yourself instead of letting that jackass do it for you.”
         Did Bucky really just tell you to go home and get yourself off? You’re ninety-percent sure that that’s what he just alluded to. Okay, eighty-five percent sure since you’re not quite all there due to the obscene amount of alcohol you’ve consumed over the past hour. You feel a wave of heat spreading through your entire body, lighting your skin on fire. The point where Bucky’s hand is clasped around your wrist is especially on fire. You inhale a shaky breath, calming yourself down and trying to command your body to cooperate with you and cool down. Bucky smirks as he watches your attempt to gather yourself.
         “I got all dressed up and drunk for sex, Barnes. I’m not letting my effort go to waste.” Bucky’s eyes are saying so many things at once, but you can’t figure out a damn word of it in your current state. All you can think about is him pressing you up against the wall right now. Maybe he’d be a little pliant since he’s also downed a good amount of whiskey tonight, and since he clearly suddenly thinks that he has a say in your sex life. You feel your drunken confidence, your alter ego, coming out to play. You smile now, pressing your lips together and softening your gaze as you drink in the sight of his steely gaze and unreadable expression. “If I can’t have sex with Thor, are you going to tell me who I can have sex with tonight?” Your words take him by surprise and he recoils, dropping your wrist and stepping back. You feel powerful now, making him step away with only your words.
                  “You really should just go home, sleep it off.” He says, trying once again to steer you in a safe direction. It’s not so much that he’s trying to steer you in a safe direction, but more that he’s trying to keep himself from having a reason to pick a fight with Thor. He doesn’t want his hands on you. He’s not letting it happen.
         “I am so fucking tired of you always trying to protect me. What happened to the introverted ass who lived across the hall and skulked around the tower? He was way more bearable.”
         “You like me way more now.” He states, narrowing his eyes at you. You shake your head quickly.
         “You’re still an ass, but now you’re all confident and you know you’re hot and it’s unbearable.” You feel the regret as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn’t mean to say the part about him being hot. 
“You think I’m hot?” He asks. He’s intrigued now, that cocky smirk once again gracing his face. You shrug your shoulders, reaching for the door again. He lets you grab the handle this time but he places a strong, firm hand against the door, at the height of your face, stopping you from opening it. He steps in close, his chest nearly brushing against your right arm and side as he leans down to your ear. “Answer the question.” A chill races down your spine, forcing you to close your eyes and draw in a deep, calming breath. Why is he being so damn authoritative all of a sudden?
         “I’m drunk.”
         “Which just means that you have no filter. So, answer the question.” He keeps his hand firmly planted against the door and you know he won’t let you out of here until he gets his answer.
         “Yes.” You answer as nonchalantly as possible, turning your head to him. You’re a mere inch apart now, his lips hovering so teasingly in front of yours and his eyes staring into your soul.
         “You’re not leaving with him.” He states. His tongue darts out, licking his bottom lip and narrowly missing yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking at his lips, especially his bottom lip that’s now moistened right in front of you.
         “You can’t tell me what to do.” You slur your words, pushing your hands against his chest and forcing him back a couple of small steps. You march yourself out of the closet now, leaving him behind, but your mind still seems to be stuck on the image of his lips. You should’ve just kissed him. Who could have blamed you if you did kiss him? Asgardian liquor gives everything such a sexual energy for some reason.
         Bucky can’t stop himself from keeping a watchful eye on you for the rest of the party. After you got away from him, you headed off to dance and drink even more with Sharon. As long as you don’t sneak off to wherever Thor went, he really doesn’t give a shit what you do. Or maybe he does. He isn’t quite sure why he suddenly gives a shit. Why were you so set on having sex with someone tonight? And why did it seem like you didn’t even care who it was going to be? That doesn’t seem like you at all, having a meaningless one-night stand with whoever happens to be up for one.
         Bucky’s mind keeps mulling over the fact that you practically called him hot. Well, you said yes when he asked if you thought he was hot.  Maybe you’re more bold and honest when you’re drunk. Or maybe you’re just a liar when you’re drunk. Either way, Bucky can’t get it out of his head.
         “Yo, cyborg, you in there?” Sam waves his arm in the air, drawing Bucky’s attention out of his thoughts and back to the present conversation.
         “What?”
         “Which one of us is going to offer the girls a ride home? They’re both way too drunk to drive.” Sam asks. Bucky scoffs. Like you’ll accept a ride from either one of them with how independent you try to be and how especially stubborn you’re already being tonight. Sam distracted Bucky just for a moment, so he didn’t notice you and Sharon heading over to join the group in the sitting area of the lavish room.
         As they round the side of the couch, Sharon takes the only space on the couch between Sam and Clint, leaving you to stand beside the couch, steadying yourself on the arm of it.
         “We were just talking about you two.” Sam says to you both with a grin, glancing at Sharon first and then up at you. Bucky notices you trying a little too hard to remain in a steady and upright position, but he knows if he stands up and offers you his chair, you’ll absolutely refuse to take it.
         “Are you going back to the tower tonight, Y/n?” Clint wonders aloud, focusing his eyes on you. Bucky can tell that Clint also notices your unusual difficulty with balance, but he doesn’t seem very concerned. Clint’s seen her drunk before, so he’s actually used to this side of you. You laugh and shake your head, your curls softer and looser than when Bucky first saw you a little while ago.
         “No way, I’m staying with Sharon tonight.” You answer. You looks down at her feet for a brief second and Bucky can tell it’s because your heels are hurting your feet, but you’re not the kind of girl to take your shoes off and walk around barefoot in public.
         “Come on, you can’t both be on your own this drunk.” Clint argues, looking to Bucky and Sam for support. Sam catches his drift and takes on a slightly more serious expression before looking up at you. You shake your head once again, rolling your eyes before turning your head and narrowing them at Bucky.
         “I wouldn’t even be going home with Sharon if Sergeant Barnes over here hadn’t made me miss my chance with someone.” You say coldly, your eyes once again shooting daggers at Bucky. Sam and Clint turn their attention to Bucky now, and Sharon lets out a hearty laugh.
         “Yeah, I heard you vetoed her potential one-night stand.” Sharon’s voice is full of amusement.
         “I did you a favor.” Bucky scoffs, returning your hard stare with one of his own. You saunter over to him now, maintaining your balance well enough to seat your pretty little ass on the arm of the chair he’s in. You cross your legs at the knee, causing your already short dress to ride even further up your thighs. Bucky’s vibranium hand that rests on the arm of the chair is only inches behind your ass. He forces himself to look past you, at Sam, who is clearly very entertained by this whole situation.
         “Sam, is cockblocking ever a favor?” You ask, seeking validation for your little tantrum over Bucky stopping you from leaving with Thor. Sam shakes his head, looking up at you with a joking frown.
         “Never. Friends don’t stop friends from getting theirs.” Sam answers, shooting Bucky another look. He’s implying to Bucky that you and him must not simply be friends if he stopped you from sleeping with Thor tonight. You clap your hands together once before pushing yourself off of his chair and taking two steps toward the couch, you turn yourself effortlessly and take a seat on Sam’s right knee, which doesn’t even seem to faze him. Bucky watches as Sam places a hand on your back to keep you steadied there. His jaw clenches and his vibranium hand coils into a fist.
         “See, Bucky, you’ll have to make it up to me.” Your tone can only be described as flirty and suggestive, but only Sam and Bucky seem to pick up on it. Sam raises an eyebrow at the seething super soldier, awaiting his response. He cocks his head to the side, thinking of a way to play this smart.
         “Next time Fury pits us against each other in training…” Bucky starts, leaning forward in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees before continuing. “I’ll let you win.”
         “No thanks, I kicked your ass last time. I don’t need you to let me win.” You narrow your eyes at him once again, before turning to Sam, Sharon, and Clint. “Sam remembers that, right Sam?” Sam nods vigorously, a smile creeping across his face as the memory plays through his head.
         “I would’ve loved to have seen it.” Sharon pipes up, leaning against Sam’s shoulder now. Damn, he’s looking like he’s such a ladies’ man tonight. Bucky considers taking a picture for him so the memory lasts. Wanda and Vision join the group, Wanda perching herself on the armrest next to Clint’s side of the couch and Vision standing beside her, keeping a hand on her back. “Oh, I have the best idea.” Sharon suddenly sounds like a child, and she’s clearly about to say something ridiculously stupid. “We should play truth or dare.”
---
                  “If we’re doing this, we’re doing this the fair way.” Sam asserts. Clint quickly took his leave before the game was agreed upon, claiming that it was already way past his bedtime and he had to check in with his wife and kids over the phone before they all fall asleep. Wanda and Vision filled his vacant spot on the couch.
You feel the effects of the alcohol that you consumed earlier slowly making its way through your system and losing its potency as it’s metabolized. You still feel a good bit of drunkenness from the Asgardian liquor, and you really wonder how long that will take to clear your system. “We alternate between truth and dare, spinning the bottle to pick who takes the turn.” Sam places an empty beer bottle on the coffee table before us all, his hand briefly leaving your back when he leans forward to do so. As he rests back against the couch again, his hand finds its way to your middle back again. Sitting on his knee like this is starting to make it feel like your ass is falling asleep, and if your ass is falling asleep then your legs won’t be far behind.
         “Truth.” Sharon calls out for the first turn, reaching out to spin the bottle and get the game going. You stand up from Sam’s knee and switch to sitting on the floor on your knees. Your dress is sitting dangerously high on your thighs now. You glance around the circle at everyone. Sam, Sharon, Wanda, Vision, and Torres, who joined when Clint left, all keep their eyes trained on the spinning bottle. Bucky, however, is looking right at you. He probably wishes you would’ve gone home and taken care of yourself like he told you to earlier. What a jackass. The bottle slows to a stop, the lip of it pointing at Wanda. “Wanda!” Sharon yells out, excited by her first victim. “Does Vision have a dick?” The question sends the group into an uproar, but Wanda only laughs.
         “Yes.” She answers, keeping it short and simple.
         “Are follow-up questions allowed?” Sharon quickly asks, turning to look at Sam.
         “Only if the bottle lands on that person again and it’s a turn for truth.” He clarifies. Sharon scoffs, rolling her eyes.
         “That’s no fun at all.” She complains. You watch as Wanda leans into Vision’s ear and whispers something, something that makes him smile and nuzzle against her cheek ever so slightly. God, they’re sickeningly adorable. Wanda breaks away from him for a moment to spin the bottle, calling out dare as it begins to spin. Of course, it lands on you.
         “Wanda, we’re friends.” You remind her. You doubt she would make you do anything too crazy, knowing her, but if she’s been drinking and isn’t her normal self tonight, she might be a little adventurous. Mischief gleams behind her eyes and you know you’re in trouble. This game is starting to feel a bit sobering.
         “I dare you to sit on Bucky’s lap for the rest of the game.”
         “Wanda!” You yell out, an annoyed tone to your voice and a glare painted across your face. “That has to be against the rules. What if he doesn’t want to participate?” You try to talk your way out of it, looking to Sam now since he seems to be in charge of the rules here. He thinks for a second, looking at you and then up at Bucky. Bucky’s expression is stoic, as unreadable as ever as he stares back at Sam.
         “I’ll allow it.” Sam decides, smirking at Bucky. You groan, pushing yourself up from the floor but refusing to make eye contact with Bucky. You move a few steps toward him and sit on his knee, just like you sat on Sam’s earlier.
         “Oh, no. That’s not his lap.” Wanda points out, waving her hand at you, gesturing for you to move in closer to his body.
         “Fuck you, Wanda.” You say evenly, before fully sitting on Bucky’s lap as he straightens up in the chair a bit. You’re basically sitting right on his crotch, and slightly to his left so his vibranium arm is sitting on the armrest behind your back. You feel him take a deep breath and his exhale fans across your right arm. You avoid turning to look at him. The more you think about it, you’re still really annoyed that he felt like he could tell you not to sleep with someone tonight. You’re even more annoyed with yourself for listening. You should have just kept your original plan and left with Thor. You offer Wanda one last glare, making her laugh and lean closer into Vision. She mouths the words get over it before drawing a heart in the air with her fingers, her way of apologizing to you and saying it isn’t that serious. You know it’s not that serious but you also know what she’s doing. She thinks if you’d just hook up with him once, Bucky and you would get rid of whatever tension is between you and you could be regular partners in the field, as casual and unproblematic as when you work with Clint or Sam. But this isn’t some movie where the two main characters fuck their feelings away and stay friends in the end, hell, there aren’t even any feelings to fuck away here. You’re still barely even friends. You just work together.
         You lean forward in Bucky’s lap, away from his body, and spin the bottle, calling out truth before leaning back again. You lean a little too far back, your balance still not perfect due to the alcohol coursing through your veins. The exposed skin of your back in your low-cut dress brushes against his left chest and vibranium arm and his cold metal hand quickly slips behind you, resting on the skin of your back and steadying you. He clearly doesn’t want you sitting any closer than you have to for this dare. Once you’re steady, you expect him to put his hand back on the armrest of the chair, but he doesn’t. He keeps it firmly planted on your back, his vibranium fingers reflecting your body heat and warming up ever-so-slightly. You find the touch comforting and you feel yourself relaxing a little bit. This definitely beats sitting on the floor.
         “Sharon!” Sam hollers, tapping her knee that’s closest to him on the couch and then clapping his hands excitedly. “This is going to be good. What do you want to know about her, Y/n?” The bottle points straight at her, and she seems more than ready for whatever you might ask. You think for a moment, with everyone’s attention focused on you, expecting you to come up with something good.
         “Was Steve a good kisser?” Bucky lets out a quiet, low chuckle at your question. You can tell he’s trying to seem like he’s not overly enjoying this game, but you know he’s getting at least a little kick out of it. His hand is still on your back and you don’t think he plans to move it anytime soon. You focus on it a little too much, noticing the way his pinky finger rests lightly just an inch above your ass.
         “Yeah, he knew what he was doing, that’s for sure. You never would’ve known he hadn’t had any real practice in the last few decades.” She admits. She’s not even trying to hide her smile as the memory of Steve comes to the forefront of her mind. “You know how sometimes guys either do too much with their tongue, or not enough?” You and Wanda both nod, while the four men in the group look on at you, obviously intrigued by the topic. “He did exactly enough.”
         “Wow, who taught him the half-tongue rule?” Wanda questions jokingly.
         “The half-tongue rule?” Torres sounds genuinely curious. He can be so adorable sometimes, so clueless for someone so unbelievably smart.
         “For a good makeout session, you should never put more than half of your tongue in the other person’s mouth.” Sharon explains. Torres nods as she explains, as if he’s absorbing the information and storing it for later use. “Okay, this one is going to be good.” Sharon announces, her eyes darting around the group for her next victim as she sends the bottle into a rotation. You get distracted for a moment when Bucky’s vibranium thumb rubs a small circle against your lower back, so softly that you question if it’s even happening.
         “White Wolf…” Sharon tsks. A look that you can only describe as evil takes over her features and she grins as she stares Bucky down. You didn’t notice that the bottle landed on him at first. He continues rubbing those small circles with his thumb and you’re really wondering what the hell he’s doing, but you don’t want to draw attention to it. “I dare you to demonstrate the half-tongue rule with your partner there.” Sharon points right at me. You swallow hard and shake your head, but you can feel Bucky’s lack of any reaction behind you. He doesn’t so much as take a deep breath or shift in his seat at the threat of the dare.
         “Wait, what are the stakes if they don’t?” Vision asks, looking around the group for an answer.
         “You have to answer three truths in a row, hard ones.” Sharon decides, looking to Sam for approval and he nods quickly. You see him shoot Bucky a look, you can’t tell what it is but it’s insinuating something. He knows Bucky would refuse to answer three hard questions about himself, so it’s way less likely that he’ll refuse a dare.
         “And what if the person the dare involves refuses to participate?” Wanda asks, smiling at you with fake sweetness. You see what she’s doing and you’re mentally kicking her for it. She wants to know what punishment you’ll face if you refuse to let Bucky complete this dare with you.
         “Same thing, I guess.” Sam answers quickly. You don’t have a problem with answering truths, but with the direction Sharon and Wanda have been taking this game, it might be a dangerous thing to get yourself into. Who knows what they would ask at this point?
         “So? Are you guys going to demonstrate the half-tongue rule or can we ask you both three questions?” Sharon prompts, her eyes flitting between you both. You finally turn and look at Bucky, but as your ass moves against his lap slightly, he presses his vibranium hand flat against your lower back, attempting to still you. He looks up at you, his eyes searching yours to see what your answer will be.
         “Come on, we’ve all seen you kiss on undercover ops before, it’s just like that.” Wanda chimes in, trying to get the group what they want. You tune her out, waiting for Bucky to speak up and say he won’t do it, that this is childish and silly and you’re all adults. You know you’re in trouble when he cocks his head to the right and his lips curl into that smirk that you’ve grown so used to seeing on him.
         “Why aren’t you backing down from this?” You ask quietly so only he can hear you. Everyone is staring at you, anticipating either a kiss or a white flag of surrender.
         “Why aren’t you?” He licks his bottom lip and for the second time tonight, you think about how much you want that lip pressed between your own. Fuck Thor for giving you that drink.
         You honestly couldn’t say who started it. You couldn’t say how long it lasted. But when you leaned into him and his left hand found it’s place on your hip while his right snaked up to your hair and pulled your face against his, you were lost in the moment. His lips moved against yours like it was a dance, something spontaneous and straight out of a movie, your heads tilting in opposite directions to give each other exactly enough leverage and access. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, waiting for you to part your lips and grant access. You hesitated, just for a second, but he noticed it and tugged on your hair, making you open your mouth just slightly, just enough for him to slip his tongue in and caress your own. Fuck, he tasted so good, like whiskey and lust and everything you wore this dress for tonight. Your entire body feels like it’s sparking with electricity everywhere that he’s touching you, where your ass is against his lap, where his hand is on your hip, where his hand is tangled in your hair. You sit now, still in the position you just kissed in, but with only your foreheads pressed together, your mouths inhaling and exhaling within an inch each other. He's probably breathing heavy from the effort and lack of air but you’re breathing heavy from the fucking horny tailspin he’s just sent your body into. It’s taking everything in you not to ask him for more.
         “Holy shit, that was porn.” Torres says, sounding both impressed and surprised.
         “How do two people who barely get along kiss each other like that?” Sam demands to know, and you can feel his stare boring into the back of your head.
         “You remember what we all do for a living, right Sam?” You ask, pulling away from Bucky’s embrace and turning back around to face the rest of the group. You get more comfortable now, leaning against Bucky as he stretches his arms out on both of the armrests and sinks into the chair a bit. You’re both more at ease now, as if the kiss melted away some of the tension. The group raves over the kiss, and what they think was chemistry, rather than simply two experienced operatives who happen to be good kissers being forced into a situation together. Bucky, ready for the moment to be over with, grabs your left hip with his vibranium hand to hold you steady as he leans forward and spins the bottle. The shift in position reveals something, or more makes you feel something. His hard cock pressing against your right thigh. You turn your head to look down at him as he’s leaning back in the chair again and he makes eye contact with you, his smirk from earlier gone and his expression once again one of indifference. God, he’s really fucking good at acting like nothing fazes him.
         “Sam, tell us about your last date.” Bucky says, his eyes still locked on yours. He must’ve seen the bottle spin to a stop in his peripheral vision. As Sam reluctantly begins to tell his tale, capturing everyone’s attention but yours and Bucky’s, you turn to the group once more and lean against Bucky again.
         “Something in your pocket?” You question jokingly under your breath, still feeling his boner present underneath you.
         “Stop talking.” He responds just as quietly, his tone sending a chill through your body. Why is it so fucking hot when he talks to you like that? It should infuriate you, the way he warns you and acts so demanding and in charge. Instead, all you can think about is him talking to you like that in bed. You swear, after tonight, you’ll never touch Asgardian liquor again.
         The game continued on for another half an hour before the party began dwindling down until only about twenty or so guests were left. You still sit comfortably on Bucky’s lap, his dick as hard as it was when you kissed earlier, and yourself no less inebriated than you were then.
         You shift on his lap, a little worried that you might be putting his left leg to sleep. Suddenly, you feel his hands on both of your hips, gripping you tightly and stilling you instantly. The room is still fairly dark and noisy with the music and drunken conversations that are being held all around, so you doubt anyone will notice his sudden shift in position.
         “Don’t move.” He groans lowly in your ear, leaning forward so his chest presses firmly against your back. You stiffen against him, your eyes closing for a second as his voice and touch once again send your senses into overdrive. The game ended five minutes ago, so you should really get off of his lap now. Your phone, which currently sits on the coffee table in front of you vibrates and as Bucky sits back in the chair again, you let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You know he heard your phone vibrate, so hopefully he doesn’t mind you leaning forward to grab it.
Sharon: Are you staying with me tonight or going back to the tower?
         “You’re staying in the tower.” Bucky says, clearly reading the message over your shoulder. You push yourself out of his lap now, turning around to face him as he adjusts his suit pants and sits up a little straighter to hide the situation going on in his pants.
         “That’s the second time tonight that you’ve tried to make decisions for me.” You point out, staring down at him. Really, who does he think he is? He’s always seemed overly confident to you, but trying to tell you who you can’t sleep with and now where you’re spending your night? He’s crossing lines left and right. You watch him carefully from a short distance as his gaze follows Sam and Sharon, who are saying goodbye to a few friends near the elevator. Sam offered to drive Sharon home, since she definitely can’t be trusted to get herself there safely.
         “You listened to me the first time.” Bucky says confidently, shifting his gaze back to you now, but keeping a serious expression on his face rather than the playful, cocky one that you know so well on him.
         “Did I? Because I remember you telling me to go home and take care of myself, and I haven’t done that.” You glance down at your phone to text Sharon back while you wait for whatever smart ass reply Bucky is going to spew out next. You’re just about to text her and say that you’d love to have a sleepover when you hear Bucky’s low, sure-of-himself laugh. You look at him once more, your thumbs hovering over your phone screen. The way he looks in that chair, with that fucking smirk slowly taking over his features, makes you rethink what you were about to say to Sharon.
         “Yet.”
---
         Everything smells like him. And why wouldn’t it? You’re in his room, lying on his bed, with him standing just a few feet from the foot of the bed, his eyes roaming over every inch of your body. You still have your dress on but you feel naked in front of him like this.
         “Are you getting shy on me now?” Bucky taunts, mischief gleaming behind his eyes as he takes in your timid expression and flushed cheeks. Sam chose to drive Sharon all the way back to her apartment across town, while Bucky quickly stepped up to give you a ride back to the tower. Somehow, along the way, the truth or dare game continued until you ended up accepting a dare to do exactly what Bucky said, to go home and take care of yourself. However, the dare came with a new stipulation: you had to take care of yourself while he watched.
         “Yeah, I’m shy.” You respond sarcastically, pushing yourself off of his bed and trekking across the room to stand immediately in front of him. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he hopes the stance hides the racing of his heart from you. The stance most definitely doesn’t hide the raging boner straining against the front of his dress pants though. There probably isn’t a pair of pants in the world that could hide something so prominent. You stand close to Bucky, breathing in his intoxicating scent for a moment before closing your eyes and letting a serene smile cross your lips.
         Bucky stands frozen when you begin slipping the straps of your dress down your shoulders. The muscle along the side of his jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth together when you reach back and easily unzip your dress. And when you finally let the small piece of burgundy fabric fall the the floor? Hell, he’s done for.
         You open your eyes once you’re fully exposed to him, peering up at him with the most innocent look you can muster.
         “Fuck this.” Bucky grumbles, losing every ounce of self-control he was harnessing as his hands grasp the sides of your face and he kisses you with so much desperation that you feel something awaken inside you. He uses the same move from earlier, tugging on the hair at the nape of your neck to get you to part your lips enough for him to taste your mouth. Fuck, you taste like his favorite whiskey. Your body moves on auto-pilot as Bucky walks you backward until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. With a less-than-gentle shove, Bucky sends you falling onto his bed. His hungry eyes travel all over your skin, over the perfect peaks of your breasts, the smooth skin along your abdomen that leads him straight down to what he needs most right now. Your cunt.
         The way he’s looking at you can only be described in one way: animalistic. You’re sure he’s going to be back on top of you within seconds, but no, this fucking man sinks to his knees on the floor at the foot of the bed. He effortlessly lifts your legs over his shoulders, and then leans into you, kissing your clit so softly that you whimper.  With all of the tension between the two of you tonight, you wouldn’t have expected him to be so gentle.
         “You taste so fucking good.” Bucky groans against your folds, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all the way down until he reaches your entrance. That’s when he stops being so gentle. That’s when he steals a glance at you, taking in the way your chest heaves with arousal and the way your hands are already gripping his bedsheets. That’s when he can’t stop himself from plunging two thick fingers into you and curling them, letting his fingertips drag against the walls of your pussy.
         “Bucky!” You cry out, your back arching off the bed and thighs shaking over his shoulders.
         “You could’ve taken care of yourself.” He reminds you, setting a relentless pace with his hand. He fucks those two fingers in and out, in and out, in and out. Every move he makes ignites your nerve endings more and more, until your nervous system is nearing a damn firework show. “You could’ve laid here and gotten yourself off for me.”
         The moans and curses falling from your lips are nothing short of sinful, and every sound sends another rush of blood straight to Bucky’s already-hard cock.
         “You’re so fucking stubborn. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You wanted to end up in my bed tonight.” His voice is dripping with lust and you can almost hear the smirk that’s surely painted across his face as you come undone at his hands.
         “Bucky…” You can’t say a damn thing except for his name. Even as he finger fucks you straight through your orgasm, and starts slowing down his movements, you can’t form a single word in your mind.
         “Look at you.” Bucky coos, sliding his fingers out of your pussy one last time. You’re lying there so still with your eyes still scrunched closed. You completely miss the way Bucky closes his own eyes as his sucks the taste of you off of his fingers. He knows he should’ve held you to the dare and made you get yourself off. He never should’ve tasted you. He never should’ve felt how tight and wet your pussy is for him.
Now that he knows how sweet you taste, how nicely your pussy would fit around his cock, how fucking perfect you sound when you’re cumming for him, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to let you leave his room. 
TAG LIST:
@gyokujyn @mrsjoequinn @thealloveru2 @sunnyhummingbee @jenniferpendragon @siciliano13
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waitingonher · 4 months
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ELECTRIC TOUCH — [jason grace dating headcanons]
author's note: i need 2024 to be THE year. 2023 did me soooo dirty. im praying
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dating JASON GRACE would be like dating someone from a regency era romance novel…he’s just SUCH a hopeless romantic but he would rather die than admit it.
in the initial first few weeks of dating, jason was sosososooooo shy about pda/physical touch. it’s not that he was uncomfortable, he LOVES physical touch, but he had just gone so long without it that he wasn’t used to it. but eventually, he warms up to it…and now he can’t go without having at least one part of him touching you 😭 
when it came to things like hugs, kisses, handholding, etc. jason would always wait for you to initiate it because he was so anxious about making you uncomfortable ?? fjsldfjs 
but when you communicated that he didn’t need to ask/wait for you all the time, jason started initiating things more. even still, he occasionally gets nervous to even hold your hand? like wdym you’ve been dating for over six months and you still get nervous doing simple couple things 😭 it’s very endearing though 
chivalry is NOT dead,, and it’s because of jason LMAO. he’s the type to swap shoes with you even though you’re wearing heels that are 3x too small for him, but hey, at least your feet don’t hurt anymore!
jason’s also hellbent on carrying things for you, opening doors for you, pulling out/pushing in chairs for you, etc… GOD HE’S SO CUTE. 
since dating him, you don’t think you’ve ever touched a single door or car handle when he’s with you. 
jason is NOT afraid to advocate or stand up for you, especially if you’re more on the quiet & non-confrontational side. if you’re in a group setting and someone interrupts you, he’s making sure you get your chance to say what you wanted to say. and he doesn’t do it in a way that leaves you embarrassed, he’s very very classy with it! 
if you’re a big music person, jason will literally learn your favorite artist’s entire discography so you guys have another thing to talk about. 
you guys also have a shared playlist of “your songs” and he’s so serious about it 😭 if jason hears a song that even remotely reminds him of you, he’s going to the ends of the earth to figure out what it’s called. 
rip to anyone around him if shazam doesn’t work! he’s gonna send voice messages to your big group chat humming the tune, but he’s so tone deaf that no one knows the song…and his search history is just variations of “song that goes du du ooh du ooh du du ooh” a for effort though babes…
jason’s love languages are definitely acts of service and quality time. over the years and throughout the many battles he’s fought, he’s come to realize that all he wants to do when he comes home is just spend time with his loved ones. 
after a busy day, you’ll come home to find your laundry folded, bed sheets washed & freshly made, along with a sweet little note from jason <3 
your guys’ thing are writing notes to each other. considering his and your busy schedule, you’ll write and leave tiny notes around the house for each other to find. it’s one of the many reasons why jason gets up in the morning. 
he loves coming home to you after a long day to simply melt in your arms. there’s just something so soothing about cuddling with you after a busy day. 
it does not matter where you are, you guys could literally be cleaning the camp toilets and he’d still be able to find the fun in it. you’re his home, and he’d follow you wherever you go. 
if you play sports, you already know he’s showing up to ALL your games. it doesn’t matter if it’s pouring rain or if it’s hours away, he’s absolutely determined to show his support. jason even makes posters with your jersey number and when you have big tournaments he’ll show up with posters of your face 😭 the refs are SO tired of jason help
i feel like if he really tried, jason would be a good cook. 
one day you sent him a recipe you saw online saying you wanted to make it with him, but then he decided to make it himself to surprise you. and it was actually so good??? 
JASON IN A “KISS THE COOK” APRON OMFG. that’s what you got him for his birthday and every single time without fail, he’ll wear it when he’s cooking. 
one of his hidden talents is that he’s super good at origami. he originally picked it up because he heard it was a good stress reliever, but now he also does it for you <3 
he loves your reaction when he gives you little paper rings or an origami version of your favorite animal! 
this guy DREAMS of domesticity. he’s always been the type to date to marry, and that’s just what he intends to do with you! even though you guys are still young, he’s been planning your proposal sfjfls
tell me why he already knows what kind of ring he wants to get you… omg. 
he really wants to just settle down with you in new rome. but honestly, he’s willing to do anything as long as you’re at his side. 
expect flowers from jason at least once a month! he even keeps one flower so he knows when it’s time to get you a new bouquet. and if he’s away, he’ll get one of his friends to deliver it! 
i have this headcanon that the aphrodite cabin teams up with the hephaestus cabin to throw a really elaborate party, essentially like prom. anyways, jason would go all out for your promposal jfdsls i feel like he would either do a super funny poster/proposal like y’know that one guy who did that medieval promposal 😭 yeah well jason would do something like that but like...more roman... LMFAO him pulling up to your place in a chariot 
or he would do something super super intricate and planned out…like a fancy picnic and then he’d have the fauns arrange fireflies to spell out “prom?” when it’s dark out. 
ugh! jason grace the man that you are… <3 best bf ever,, i can confirm btw
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your geto fic is super cute 🥰 if you're taking more requests, may I request a sukuna fic please? maybe in an au where he's a gangster and reader is of a classy, rich family so reader's parents don't agree, but then sukuna appears in one of their events in a suit and looking dashing as ever!
ooooooooo it's 3 am but i have to write this down!!!!!!!!!
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shadows and silk.
summary: sukuna shows you and your parents that he is absolutely the right and the only man for you (whether they agree or not) genre: angst/fluff pairing: gangster!sukuna x female reader warnings: cursing, modern day au, not a great parent-child relationship, ooc sukuna
Masterlist
-----
your father doesn't even bother to hide his disapproval. "he has tattoos on his face. what if he's in the mafia- what have you brought our family into?!"
"father-"
"i am," sukuna clarifies, "in the mafia. my father is the leader. and one day, it'll be my time to lead."
your parents gasp in shock, surprised by sukuna's brashness.
"that wasn't a threat," he clarifies again, holding your hand. "i love your daughter, and i'd like to have a good relationship with you both. because it's important to her."
you smile appreciatively and grasp his hand, looking at your parents with hope.
"you're fucking insane."
-----
it was probably not the wisest decision to ask for your parents' approval, knowing what kind of people they are. being one of the richest families in the country, it's hard to have... any kind of life outside of what they had planned for you. like a pawn in their game of chess, your choices have been made for you since the very beginning.
unlike sukuna, you grew up "perfect". you aced your piano lessons, easily graduated from your violin school, and got straight As in all your grades. every day was the same for you; wake up, school, extra lessons, homework, sleep, and repeat.
that's actually how you met sukuna. one day, there was something wrong with the traffic so your driver was late. you'd been waiting for an hour, and sukuna just happened to finish his detention.
"hm?" his eyes caught you standing by the gate. "aren't you that rich kid?"
you looked up at him and analyzed his face -- high school student with face tattoos, you don't see that very often. "who's asking?"
"tsk, tsk." he chuckled, "so much attitude for a little person." he ruffled your hair before walking in the other direction. "wanna come? i'm gonna go have some fun."
fun... the word was so unfamiliar to you. you'd never talked to him before, and though it really was probably dangerous to just go with someone whose name you didn't even know, you couldn't help yourself. especially not when he turned around with a smile, urging you to come with him.
he took you to places you've never been before and made you feel things you've never felt. you felt free from your parents' chains, for once you felt like you could do whatever you wanted.
and sukuna was glad he could make you smile. you, the girl who always kept to herself in class, quiet, polite, almost scared. you made him feel things, too.
you got an earful from your parents that day, but the cute keychain sukuna won you from the night market was worth it.
now, the keychain hangs on your favorite bag, one that he also got you a few weeks ago. though you already have multiple designer bags that are much more expensive, the bag sukuna gave you was priceless.
"morning, baby." sukuna greets you, kissing your cheek.
"morning," you smile at him. "i'm sorry for how yesterday went. my father, he's-"
"let him be," he says. "nothing can keep me away from you, understand?"
you smile at his words and nod, "you better keep it as a promise."
sukuna smiles and kisses you, "i swear it."
he wonders what he could've possibly done to deserve someone like you.
-----
"what do you mean i'm getting married?"
your father sighs. "don't be difficult. the gojo clan is the most powerful, you should be thankful they're letting you marry their son."
"but father, i have a boyfriend, and i just graduated college! i- i can't marry, i still have so much i want to-"
"enough!" he yells, "you're marrying gojo satoru by the end of next month and that's final."
you're lucky that you have your own apartment. dialing sukuna's number, you get into your car and drive home where sukuna says he's waiting for you.
"ugh, unbelievable!" you throw your keys on the table, letting it slide off and annoying you even more.
he grimaces and sits you down, handing over a glass of water. "so it didn't go well..."
you sigh, "...they're arranging a marriage. with the gojo clan."
sukuna's jaw clenches, anger evident, but then it disappears. "that makes sense. they are the strongest and the richest."
"they're not giving me an option, like always-"
"gojo satoru is pretty handsome," he continues, "blue eyes, tall, quite built.. he's not a bad bachelor."
you squint your eyes at your boyfriend who seems like he's talking nonsense... or not really. "what are you trying to say?"
sukuna sighs. "we should break up."
the words that come out of his mouth after that are all blurry to you. something along the lines of...
"we've been together for years."
"it's time to get a fresh start."
"aren't you curious what it's like to date other people?"
"i'm getting bored to be honest."
and it all just seems like bullshit. bullshit because why is he looking at you like that when he's breaking up with you? why does he look like he's still madly in love with you and saying all that stuff is killing him?
why does he look like he's lying?
"tell me you're joking."
sukuna, unfortunately, doesn't humor you and leaves you alone in your apartment without saying anything else.
the rest of the month feels like hell. you tried running away from your parents, the guards they sent after you, but to no avail. somehow, they've repurchased your apartment and now you're back to living with them.
you met gojo satoru once throughout the entire month. he's decent, and actually a good guy like sukuna said, but he's not sukuna. he doesn't leave a random flower he picked up on the way to your place, he doesn't shower your hands with kisses when he sees you, and that's all expected -- because it's not supposed to be a loving relationship. it's a contract. once you marry him, your parents' company will merge with the gojos and become even richer.
today's the engagement party. your mother has chosen the perfect red gown for good luck, and she's made all the preparations for the party -- you, like always, never had a say in anything.
you feel like an object for them to trade with. compared to the gold bars sitting in their safe, you're probably worth less.
"i know you also didn't agree to this," gojo satoru whispers as you're both sat down in the middle of the ballroom while everyone else enjoys their meal. "but you look beautiful."
you offer him a polite smile, which turns rather sad. hidden in your sleeve is the keychain sukuna got you. your mother managed to throw away every cherished memory you had of him except for the keychain.
you wonder what sukuna is doing right now... if he's enjoying his life, if he maybe has a new girl by his side...
"sorry to shit on your party," your head snaps up the moment you hear that familiar voice, and a gasp escapes when you see the even more familiar tattooed face with pink hair. "but i'm going to have to kidnap your fiancee for a bit. maybe forever."
"..ryo." you stand up abruptly, letting your chair fall and hit the ground. he's dressed in a white suit, black vest, black shirt, and a matching black tie. he looks like he's ready to be your groom.
giving you the smile you miss most, sukuna stands in front of you and grabs your hand. "hi, princess."
"what are you doing here?" you whisper, tears about to fall from your eyes.
"saving my damsel in distress." he softens when he sees your lip tremble, kissing you gently. "i told you nothing can keep me away from you."
"but you-"
behind you, gojo satoru clears his throat, motioning to the many guards surrounding both of you, ready to pull you two apart by force.
"let my daughter go right now." your father demands.
you grasp sukuna's arm tightly, not planning on letting him go any time soon. in return, he has his arm around your waist, pulling you to him gently before he snaps his fingers, revealing rows and rows of armed men ready to fire.
the guards immediately stand down, obviously outnumbered. they let you and sukuna leave without a fight, and you stop for a second to spare a glance at your parents, looking at you disapprovingly.
-----
you're sitting on sukuna's bed. you've only been to this place a few times, considering he moves around a lot. he's helping you with the infinity amount of hairpins you have stuck in your hair while you take off the red gown you're wearing.
"ryo," you call him.
he hums to acknowledge you, mouth full of hairpins.
"...why did you break up with me?"
taking out the last piece of hairpin (he thinks it's the last), he throws them away before sitting behind you, arms snaked around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder.
"i... i thought i was doing you a favor," he admits, "with my job... it's not easy being with me, you know? i'm scared you'll think i'm a monster for what i do - it still terrifies me."
"so i thought if i just pushed you away, it'll make things easier for both of us," his grip on you tightens, "but it didn't. at least not for me. and i know i'm being selfish here by wanting you back, i know i don't deserve it, but i just... i can't imagine living without you. i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."
you turn around to face him, straddling his thighs and kissing him softly. "if being selfish means i'm stuck with you, then you need to be more selfish."
he grins, arms wrapping around you. "i love you."
"i love you more, ryo."
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authorhjk1 · 4 months
Note
A request for Sana's delicious tiddies please!
https://www.instagram.com/p/C0dZRXrvuyU/?igshid=NTc4MTIwNjQ2YQ==
The Roman goddess
Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader
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The museum you are strolling through is called Castel Sant' Angelo. It used to be tomb for the Roman Emperor Hadrian and his family. Now, it's a very well known museum in Rome.
You admire the architecture and the sculptures standing around. The ceilings are quite high. All the walls are painted, the gorgeous colors bringing the ancient scenes to life.
You are not only here for fun though. It started around two years ago. Your career as an author. Until December two years ago, you did write, but it was more for yourself. You finally made your breakthrough with your first novel "The Roman eagle", about a lowly born Roman legionary, who rises through the ranks. You never thought this would make you big. And you didn't expect so many people wanting more. You didn't plan on it, but that one book is slowly turning into a series.
The second book came out at the end of last year. "The curse of Neptune". And now, you are working on your third. Since you didn't plan on writing a series, you have started to introduce several main characters with their own life stories.
You are now sitting on your third part. Not having a title yet, you keep wandering around the museum. You have already written quite a few pages, but the new character you want to introduce is hard to picture. It's supposed to be a woman. A woman, who is deceitful and ambitious, not caring about the ones around her. She only married her husband for his status and is now aspiring to climb the ranks. With or with out him.
You enter another room. The ceiling is high as well. The painted scenes show several different parts of day to day life from the Romans and their gods. The center of the room is reserved for a tall, almost life-size statue. Being an expert in history, especially Roman history, you can tell immediately that that's Venus. The goddess of love.
Wanting to have a closer look, you step forward. But your gaze is caught by the woman who is standing between you and the piece of art, her back turned towards you.
Her posture is flawless and you can't help but admire how straight her back looks, due to the white high heels she is wearing. The black skirt is quite long, almost reaching the floor. As you walk past her right, you see that it has a large slit in the front. Her naked leg is more than just captivating.
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Glancing at the statue, you've always wondered how Venus would look like, if she was real. It feels like you might be able to paint a picture now.
The woman's white top is highlighting her chest, the fabric stretching over her tits. The turtle neck and the tied back hair make her look elegant and strict. Like a teacher or a rich man's wife.
Standing next to her, you smell her scent. Definitely flowers. Maybe roses? You were never the flower expert. Would Venus smell like this too? Roses are always considered the flowers of love. The idea doesn't seem too far fetched.
You notice that the young woman is standing quite close to the statue, holding a brochure in her hand. Usually, knowing about history isn't really a great turn on for women. But being in a museum, you might give it a try. She does have that classy look. So maybe she could be interested?
"Art and war should always be studied from a healthy distance."
You see her react. Not her face, since you are still standing two steps behind her, but the slight turn of her head. You could swear the corners of her mouth turned upwards, before she turns back towards the statue.
One step. Two steps. Her heels disrupt the silence in the otherwise empty room.
"A lot of people think that Venus and Aphrodite are the same goddess."
You were able to take a quick peek at the brochure she is holding. The people who work here should do a better job.
"But they have quite a couple of differences."
You wait a couple of moments. She doesn't say something or turns around. But she didn't run, which is at least a good start.
"While Aphrodite is the goddess of love, beauty and sex, Venus has to offer more than just that."
You walk behind the young woman, starting to feel comfortable, talking about a topic you are very familiar with.
"She actually started out as the goddess of gardens and vineyards. Before the Romans merged her with her Greek counterpart. And even then, she represents not just lust and sex. But also motherhood. You could say that she is a more loyal woman."
You glance at the woman, whom you are standing next to now. Her left side profile almost makes you stutter. She really must be a goddess.
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Knowing that you might never meet someone like her ever again, you decide to shoot your shot. What's the worst that could happen? She could scream and run away. But it's only the two of you anyway.
"Which form is the one you can more easily identify with? The Roman, or the Greek one?"
You stand next to her, your shoulders almost touching. Turning your head towards her you almost whisper.
"Loyal? Or promiscuous?"
A smirk plays around the brunette's lips. She is not running yet.
But to your huge disappointment, she raises her right arm, her hand on the same hight as her chest. You are only distracted for a second, before you see the golden ring on her finger. It's decorated with a huge diamond in the center and a couple of smaller ones all around.
Of course she is married. A woman like her? Come on. You sigh internally. You should've figured.
"Promiscuous."
You were about to turn around as you hear her sweet voice. It takes you a second to realize what she says.
"I think I would be more like Aphrodite."
Is she saying you still have a shot? Even when she just showed you that she is married?
"Tell me more. I'm not sure if I can make a decision yet."
And she wants you to keep talking?
You take a deep breath, not wanting to screw this up.
"Venus has a more elevated status than Aphrodite. Her arguably most famous human son is Aeneas. The man who established Rome. A lot of emperors' wifes identified with Venus."
You see the woman tug a strand of her brown hair behind her ear.
"And you are saying that the Greek form wasn't as important?"
It's the first time she actually looks at you. Her beautiful features make her look way more elegant than from the side. Her lipstick makes her look stricter than she might usually would. You can tell that she is Asian, but not from which country.
"She was important. But not in the same way as Venus. She did have her own celebrations though."
The brunette is now fully turning towards you. It takes a lot of willpower to not look at her chest. It's almost as if she could sense your struggle. She places her hands on her hips, barely leaning forward. It makes her tits look just a little bigger.
"What kind of celebration?"
Her voice has changed. Until now, she spoke quiet. Just like someone should, while visiting a museum. But she is now whispering. Just like you did before. Her captivating gaze makes you stare into her eyes.
"A big part of the celebrations were Aphrodite's priestesses. The Greeks used a suiting form of worship for the goddess of love."
You take a step closer. Your shoe grazes hers. The smell of roses becomes a little stronger.
"They slept with her priestesses. That's how they worshipped her."
The brunette is unable to hold back her chuckle.
"And you are sure you didn't just make that up?"
For a moment her cute side shines through. She looks adorable when she smiles.
"I didn't. You can look it up."
"I don't want to though. I like listening to you."
"Well..."
You are too surprised to give a good answer. And there is not much more to say about the topic anyways.
The brunette seems to have caught up on that.
"What do you think about worshiping her now?"
"What?"
Your surprised face makes her almost moan out. You looked quite confident while hitting on her. The fact that you are getting shy is a turn on for her.
"There aren't many people here. And I think we should do it in front of the statue. You know? To pay our respects."
A million reasons why you shouldn't do this rush through your head. More than enough to say no. And yet, you can't help but catch yourself, leaning forward.
Your lips meet and you can immediately feel her hands wrap around your back. The kiss turns sloppy very fast. Pure lust and want radiate from her lips.
Once she breaks away, you can see that her lipstick is a little smeared. She seems to have recognized the worry in your eyes.
"Don't worry about my husband. Didn't Aphrodite constantly cheat on hers too?"
She got a point there. She did very much so.
Her lips meet yours once again. And this time your hands start to explore her body as well.
You still can't believe you've managed to come this far. She is probably the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. She could be the human form of the goddess.
"How bad do you want my tits?"
The fact that she caught you doesn't even bother you. Your mind too focused on taking in her flawless body.
"Really bad."
Her lips meet your neck, definitely leaving a hickey there.
"Show me."
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You start pulling at the white fabric, getting it out of her skirt. Your hands dive underneath as the brunette locks lips with you again.
The smoothness of her skin is intoxicating. Her tight midriff feels well toned and cared for. Your fingertips reach her bra as you continue your quest.
Her hands are not idle either. You feel one of them opening the button of your pants, while the other has taken a fistful of your shirt. It's as if she is pulling you into her. Her hand sneaks into your pants, her fingers searching for the waistband of your underwear.
At the same time, you've finally gotten rid of her bra. It slides down her clothed frame, before it falls to the ground. It's white.
Her tits feel amazing. They are just as smooth as her skin. You start to knead them, still unable to understand how you got here.
She is a goddess. How are you able to stand in some museum, while you play with her tits? A mystery you don't even want to uncover. Some things are better left unknown.
The brunette's hand has found it's way into your boxers by now. Her slim fingers dance along the length of your shaft.
A moan escapes her lips. It's one of the most beautiful sounds you've ever heard. You didn't know that a person could sound so perfect.
"That cock of yours...."
She trails off, slightly biting your lower lip.
"It feels so big."
Her words make you even harder. A normal reaction to a goddess like beauty telling you that you have a big dick. Something you thought you would never ever experience in your life.
Your hands become a little rougher as your animalistic instincts slowly take over. You never felt so uncontrollable before.
Pinching her nipples, you hope for another moan. You get one. She moans into your mouth, closing her hand around your cock.
"I want this in my mouth."
You feel her pulling away. Your hands regretfully leave her tits and her top. But when she starts to kneel down, a wave of pure happiness washes through your body.
An excited tingle rushes through every fiber of your being as you watch her pulling down your pants. Your boxers following quickly after.
A gasp escapes her mouth, when she sees your cock for the first time.
"My husband isn't even half as big."
With a big smile, her face turns into something very cute. She gives your tip a kiss.
"A cock worthy of fucking my tits."
Her words turn you on even more. Her lips slowly wrap around your tip.
It takes her a while to pick up the pace. But once the brunette is there, her blowjob is quick and effective. You remember that you are still in a museum, standing pants down in front of a statue of Venus.
You are not a very religious person. But in that moment, you pray to that goddess, thanking her for this incredible experience.
Your prayer is interrupted by the brunette's slurping sounds. Her wet blowjob has ruined her lipstick completely by now. She looks so hot with your cock in her mouth. She places both her hands flat on your hips, before starting to fuck her face onto your cock.
You can't help but let out a loud groan, your hand automatically wanders to the back of her head. You don't start to dictate the pace. But you feel her head going a little faster.
With a woman like her, it's obvious that you won't last long. Especially if said woman fucks her face with your cock. You feel your orgasm approaching. The familiar tug in your lower regions makes you groan.
The brunette seems to have felt you twitch inside her mouth. She moves away, letting your dick fall out off her lips.
"You have a very delicious cock, you know?"
Not waiting for an answer, she starts to pull up her top. It's bunched up above her breasts. You are finally able to see them now. They seem perfectly shaped. Flawless like the ones of a goddess. Not too small, but not too big either. Just perfect handfuls.
"Try not to cum so fast."
Her wink turns her into something cute for just a moment. Then, her goddess like aura is back.
You feel her soft mounds wrap around you. She presses them together, making your cock disappear between them. As soon as she seems ready, you start to thrust upwards. You see her bite her lip as your tip appears in her cleavage.
Fucking her tits feels amazing. It feels better than anything you've experienced before. There is no comparison at all. Her soft mounds feel like they are made for you. Her warmth makes you feel hot and horny.
Eventually, she starts to stick out her tongue. It touches your tip whenever you thrust upwards. The new wetness on your tip makes you remember that your orgasm is close. It also helps with sliding trough her chest.
You have to hold onto her hair again, unable to stand by yourself.
"Your cock feels so good."
You hear her sigh as she stares down at it.
She suddenly looks up, opening her mouth, while sticking her tongue out. Her spit slowly starts to drip down her tongue. You watch as she drools all over her own cleavage. Her saliva starts to coat your cock. It makes her tits feel even smoother.
The young woman let's out another moan.
"I bet you would feel so good in my pussy."
You close you eyes, imagining yourself inside of her. The thought alone, almost makes you orgasm.
"My husband is so small, I'm practically a virgin."
She continues her talking, knowing what it does to you.
"I've never felt the pleasure of someone just pounding into me. I want to feel it. I want to feel how you rearrange my guts."
You hiss out, unable to silence the pleasure that is building up in your system. Only a little longer. You only want to hold out a little longer.
"I have such a tight pussy. You would love it."
Your grip in her hair strengthens as you approach your climax.
"That's it. Cum on my tits. Make Venus proud."
You glance at the statue for just a second. It feels like the woman on her knees is the real goddess. A beauty, too much for you to handle.
"I'm gonna cum."
You grunt out, unable to hold on any longer.
"That's good, honey. Cum on my tits. Use them like a canvas."
You groan one last time.
"Give me all of it."
You explode in her cleavage. Your cum hits her throat and chin, while some coats her tits. It feels like this is the strongest orgasm you've ever had. More cum than usual leaves your body.
In the end, her tits are covered in your semen, just like she wanted. Some is dripping down her chin. You see that her hands didn't get away without some, either. A few drops of your cum stain the big diamond on her ring. She notices it as well.
You watch in awe as she starts to lick her ring clean, after letting your spent cock leave her tits.
"Wow. That's a great load."
She scoops up some of your cum with her finger.
"And it tastes good, too."
She licks it off, before looking at you.
"What do you say? Right here? Or a hotel room?"
The option to say no doesn't even enter your brain. Still afraid of getting caught, you choose the hotel.
The brunette gets off her knees. You watch her pull her top down and putting the hem back into her skirt. Slowly, your cum starts to leave wet spots on the fabric. You pick up her bra, offering it to her.
"Keep it. Maybe you are lucky and you can complete the set."
With those words still lingering in your mind, she takes your hand, leading you towards the exit.
You've never head a clear picture of Venus or Aphrodite in your mind. Now you do. It's the woman who is holding your hand, her chest covered with your cum.
The fact that she is taking you to a hotel is making you hard again.
With one last glance at the statue, you finally know how to continue your next book.
The third part "The Roman goddess" will certainly become a bestseller.
________
Thank you for the ask. I unfortunately don't have the time to write much more.
The introduction seems a little long to me. Please keep sending short requests guys, I'm trying to shorten the part where I set the scene. With limited success as you can see.
Sana in that outfit definitely deserves a proper story, which I'm unable to write at the moment. I hope you are satisfied with that. I might be able to write the follow up somewhere in the future.
Have a nice day!
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moonastro · 4 months
Text
Pick a Picture
--𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊--
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left to right(top)-> 1,2
left to right(bottom)-> 3,4
sidenote- do y'all like the four picture layout or would you prefer more pictures?? let me know to keep or switch it up a bit>
°DO NOT take this as literal, take everything with a grain of salt as this is purely and intendedly for entertainment purposes.
°don't be afraid to give feedback and opinions about this post (as i would entirely appreciate it).
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 1-
✦ they love how you break the norm and are not afraid to do your own thing.
✦ love how nurturing you are and how you always help out other people- this can be helping the homeless, helping stray animals, donations, charity work.
✦ they love how you care and provide so much care for your loved ones- they view you as someone who would literally leave everything to fly across the globe to help out a friend or family member and then come home the next day 😂.
✦ they love how careful you are though- like you aren't the who who wings everything- you plan every precise detail and like that about you.
✦ yeah they love how you take time with certain projects- how you are patient with everyone. they love the nurturing side of you.
✦ you arent easily distracted, they love how when you choose something, you stick by it. like whenever you promise something you do it- i feel like they love telling their secrets to you because you are so good with keeping them.
✦ they might like your hair- they may prefer it when it is down and not tied- might be their preference.
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 2-
✦ love your work ethic- love your work in general. they love how you work for yourself and not rely on someone else. they see you as a person who strives for success and independence and they love seeing you earn your own possessions and finances.
✦ they love your compassion, how you let go of stuff that no longer serves you.
✦ they might love how easily you fit into new environments. like you may join a new class and within like 10 minutes you make a new friend. your just really likable and they lovvee that.
✦they love how straightforward you are-how you tell the truth. they love the honesty- there is truly no lies that travel from your mouth.
✦ they might like how you are not too introverted nor too extraverted- you are just the perfect amount of both which i think makes them want to be more around you.
✦ you believe in standing up for yourself and being a good person at the same time which your fs highly respects and finds it unique.
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 3-
✦ they love your goofiness. lol, they love how you just liven the whole room and never appear awkward. like you may just always know what to say at the perfect time which your fs will find fascinated.
✦ they find your mind very interesting. you might have questionable ideas or thoughts but they make really good sense in a way??? they find it very interesting and find it appealing.
✦ yeah, they will find your soul very freeing, which will motivate them to become more free as well. i feel like you will be an inspiration to them, you will be a role model to them which of course they find it very attractive.
✦ woww, they literally love your body movements- how you walk, move your hands, move your body- just anything to do with moving your body, they looove. you might actually like to/ do dance so they might love it when you dance for them or when you dance for fun (a scene of someone dancing in the kitchen while making breakfast just popped up😂)-take it as you may.
✦ they love how studious you are. you might like to read, write, study etc. whatever it may be they find it attractive.
✦ i feel like they might love your back. like they love when you show your back off, maybe by wearing a dress that shows off your back and such. they might actually love the way you dress yourself up like they love the neatness and classiness of outing clothes.
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𝓹𝓲𝓵𝓮 4-
hellooo pile 4, welcome!!!
✦ random, but i feel like your fs will like the little bursts of anger that you let out sometimes when you get annoyed or angry- lol they find it cute. aww.
✦ you may be very good at seeing the truth, seeing the reality of a situation/or person. like i feel like you are a person who tells a friend to not trust a certain person, a few months later that same friend comes running back to you saying you were right!!!
✦ they love how easily you adapt to a new/unknown situation. like whenever they suggest something you are like 'yeah, sure lets do it!'.
✦ they love how in control you are in your life. how responsible you are.
✦ they love how you accept other people's advice and how you don't criticize others' opinions. they love the generosity.
✦ i feel like they will find your hands attractive- you might have beautiful hands.
✦ they might find it attractive when you act the bigger person. like when someone tries to start some argument with you, you just exit without it becoming heated. like you just know when to leave a situation to prevent any conflict.
that's it everyone!!❣️ thank you so so much for reading this, i am so grateful for all of you🤍 feel free to interact with this post and don't be shy to share some thoughts or ideas
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monimccoythings · 1 month
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Cursed Cat! Alastor x Child!Reader (Platonic)
This fucker has consumed my entire mind. Everywhere I go, I see him. I need posters, keychains and a plushie of this entity of evil. Since the Sacabambapsis, I never laughed at anything as hard as I did with this little freak of nature (affectionate). Going to be a short one because I'm still laughing as I'm writing this.
This is not proof read, so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.
All credit goes to @coma_0423 on twitter for simultaneously ruining and saving my life.
Tw: mentions of death
tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog
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Nobody really knows how he ended up as a cat. One day he just woke up like that.
The first time you see him your mind goes entirely blank. And then you laugh. Like, really loud. You don't remember the last time you laughed as hard as you were laughing now. You were rolling on the floor, tears running down your face and holding your tummy in pain.
You can see smoke coming out of his ears and static getting louder. But oh boy was it funny, he looks like he hasn't had a single thought in his entire life. He doesn't find it the slightest bit amusing, but you are truly laughing for the first time in years so he will let it slide.
He follows you around, being the protective cat-father he is. At some point your strides are too much for him to follow up with, so you have to carry him. And given your short stature he is just dangling in your arms with that stupid looking face, which, no matter how much you try to resist, makes you burst into laughing fits.
Won't allow any doors between you two. If you have to leave him out, he will serenade you with the song of his people until you let him in.
Can't stand seeing you spending time with anybody else, specially Lucifer. If he catches you two together in some bonding activity, he will dart across the room and jump him. You had to practically beg Vaggie to not use her spear as a baseball bat whenever he tried to pull that one on the King of Hell.
When you are sitting, he likes to loaf on your lap. Just keeping you pinned to your seat so you'll be forced to pay attention to him and only him. He won't admit it ever, but he absolutely adores being scratched behind the ears.
Satan fobid if you get a hold of a laser pointer. You can see him literally vibrate, eye twitching, trying to resist the siren call of the light. (He eventually gives in)
Any pests? He will take care of them, you can find him casually munching on the carcass of some dead animal in the middle of the hall, talk about being classy. And then he'll have the nerve to call you out for chewing too loud.
Get ready to wake up to him staring at you unblinkingly, with his snout mere centimeters from your nose. The first time he did it, you screamed and fell out of bed. He checked to make sure you were okay, but still found the situation very amusing, given the way his smile widened.
It is impossible to take a pic of Alastor in that form. He is always hypervigilant since he knows the damage it could cause to his reputation as a feared overlord. All pics of him are either blurry or distorted. You don't have the heart to tell him that it just makes them more hilarious.
You don't know how to turn him back, Lucifer seems to not know how to do it (or maybe he does and is having way too much fun with this), but maybe you'll keep him like that for a little while; as a cat, you dad is practically harmless, or at least less dangerous than he was as a demon. Also, it feels nice going to sleep with him curled into a fluffy ball by your head, his static filled purrs lulling you to sleep.
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chanandlersstuff · 1 year
Text
Little Miss Director and Starboy.
Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.
Summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.
Word count: 8.457
Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap and a slow burn.
Author’s note: It’s the first time I write something about Hayden so I hope you like it. I have nothing against his private life nor his love ones, this is just for fun. With that been said, I had this idea in my head for a long time and it will have two more parts.
gif credits @haydenchristensengifs
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When he was offered the role of Anakin again for Obi-Wan’s series, he jumped in without thinking twice and that’s how he met her. He saw her face for the first time on a tiny screen on his phone. The first few things he noticed about her were that she used glasses, her voice was sweet, that she smiled pretty much all the time and that she was young, several years younger than him.
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May 2019, first meetings.
She was very polite and enthusiastic, telling him all about the ideas for the series and explaining everything about the project. Maybe revealing a few things she shouldn’t but he didn’t care. She kept it professional but light, which he thanked because acting formally in the comfort of his house while wearing joggers and slippers was a no can do.
A few weeks after that he hopped in a plane and flew all the way to the studios, where she worked, to meet with her and talk about the project. He was directed to her office, where she was supposed to be expecting him but she wasn’t. “I’m sorry Mr. Christensen, but she will arrive in a few minutes.” The boy behind the desk said with a polite smile. “Please follow me.” He got up and walked towards an office at the end of the hallway. “You can wait for her in her office.” He opened the door. “Feel free to get comfortable.” The boy smiled. “Would you like something to drink?”
Hayden looked around the room, it was big; but not too big, painted white with big windows that let all the light enter and a little sofa with a desk in the middle. “No, thank you.” But the main thing he noticed was the lack of personal things in it. No photos on the desk, instead, little drawings stuck to the computer and an old video camera from the ‘90s on one of the shelves, which he found odd. 
He stood watching the window and how the sun illuminated everything around. A couple of minutes passed by when he heard voices outside the office. “Hi, Charlie, how are you?” The same sweet voice reached his ears. Some muffled words and the sound of boots against the floor. "What? He's in there?” She whispered-shouted. “He's early!” It was true, Hayden was early. A trait he picked up from his father. "I know!" The boy at the reception whispered-shouted too. "He’s cute.” Hayden smiled a little at the words. “Charlie! Unprofessional.” It wasn’t as if he was eavesdropping, they just happened to be speaking not so quietly. “I’m not ready.”  He heard her say. “Yes, you are.” The boy encouraged her. More muffled sounds reached his ear. “Fake it, till you make it.” He smiled at the phrase and moments later the door was opened.
He turned around and she was there with a nervous smile on her lips, not like the ones he saw on Facetime. “Hi.” She said, blushing a little.
The brunette walked closer to greet her properly. “Hello.”
“Wow, you are tall.” She said rapidly under her breath, but he heard it, making him laugh.
“I got that a lot.” He extended his hand and she shook it. To the list of things he noticed about her, he added that her hands were cold, despite the warm weather outside, and full of small classy silver rings. She apologised about it but he was focused on looking at her. She was small, a little smaller than average, barely reaching his chin. Dressed in black Doc Martens, light colour jeans, a fitted black t-shirt and a red leather coat. Long straight hair and no glasses on. 
She hung her bag and coat and smiled at him, a more natural one. “Can I offer you something? Tea? Coffee? Orange Juice?”
“A tea would be nice, thank you.” She nodded and ordered Charlie, the boy behind the desk at the front, a tea and a coffee.
“Shall we?” She gestured to the sofa for them to sit down.
He tilted his head to the side. “By all means, it’s your office.” He let her walk in front of him, as the gentleman he was taught to be.
She looked around with a tiny smile on her lips. “Yeah, I still don’t believe it.” 
“You have a beautiful view.” He added.
“Yeah, doesn't it?” She asked happily and looked around. “First of all," he was the object of her gaze again. "thank you for coming all the way here just to chat about this.” 
“Not at all, it’s a pleasure. And far easier than talking on the phone.” He sat more comfortably.
She laughed and nodded. “I like this kind of human contact, I feel like there’s nothing left to guess, or misunderstood, and I also believe it is more personal.” He agreed, noticing she moved her leg nervously. Another thing to add to his list about her. “I will try to not occupy much of your time and don’t bore you.” She joked.
But he shook his head “No, nothing of that.” trying to reassure her. 
A knock on the door interrupted him. “Sorry.” She got up and opened the door. Charlie entered with the two cups and left them on the desk. “Thank you very much, Charlie.” The boy smiled and walked away. “Sugar? Sweetener?” She offered him.
“Sugar, it's fine.” She passed him the little packets while she poured a little one of sweeteners into her cup. The pleased smile on her lips, when she took the first sip, would always be tattooed on his mind.
Hayden asked the normal things about the project and she told him everything she could about it. Slowly, bit by bit, he saw how she was more nervous-free and how excited she was for all the things she was telling him about. “But it’s still in diapers, we are still figuring things out. I’m still figuring things out.” She played with her hands. “The writers started putting everything on paper and I’m working with the executive producers about the cast.” She ended with a smile.
“It’s your first big project?” He asked, taking a sip of his tea. She laughed a little, moving her head side to side, it wasn’t a yes but neither a no. “How old are you?” That was a question he had in mind for a while and hoped it didn't sound rude.
“Twenty-seven.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “I know, too young and very big, immense, shoes to fill.” She said with a bored tone like she got that too much. 
Hayden shook his head. “I was 19 when I took the role of Anakin and felt the same way. Everything is going to be fine.” She looked at him a little unsure. “If they choose you to be here, it’s because you are the best. Don’t let them intimidate you, otherwise they will eat you alive.”
She smiled at him, big and brightly. “Thank you, Hayden, truly.” Her eyes accompanied the smile, kind and truthful.
All of a sudden, he turned shy by being under her gaze- What? Shy? Come on man. -so he shrugged and changed the subject. Trying for his life to not blush at how sincere and kind her eyes looked at him moments prior.
October 2019, surprise surprise.
By the second time they met in person, they had been talking a couple more times by the phone, she asked a few things about what he felt about Anakin, what were his thoughts about him and things like that.
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Hayden was walking towards her office, for some reason he wanted to see her before going to meet with the writers, executives and a few of the characters for the first reading of the script, which was going to take a few days, to see if everything was going according to plan, smoothly. 
He entered the office and Charlie was there, sitting behind the desk, just like all those months before. They made small talk while the boy accompanied him to her office. When he opened the door, she was looking down at some papers on the desk and her hair was up supported by a pen. “Perfect, Charlie, sorry to bother you, but I'' Who apologised to his assistant for asking something? Always so polite.
When she looked up, her eyes opened big in surprise at seeing him. Hayden realised she was wearing the glasses she wore when they first met and that with the light entering the room her eyes shined. Maybe it was my presence? No, it couldn’t be. It was 100% the light, for sure. “Hello.” He said with a kind smile on his lips.
“Hi.” She smiled brightly, just like she usually did. Usually as in the two times he saw her, one in person and the other by a screen. “You are early.” She looked at the watch on her right wrist.
“Again.” He joked earning a laugh from her.
“Please, make yourself comfortable.” She pointed at the sofa where he sat months ago, a vase with white jasmines on the little table there. “Tea?” He nodded and when she was about to ask Charlie the boy nodded and walked away with a tiny smile on his lips.
He, for sure, made himself comfortable and started walking around the office. It didn’t seem empty as it did before, now it had books on the shelves; a few more drawings, it was more cosy, and the same video camera was still there on one of the shelves. He traced it with his finger, slowly, trying to not damage it. “That camera was the thing that started everything, it was my father’s but I made it mine.” Her sweet voice became sweeter.
“It was your first camera?” He turned around to look at her and she nodded with a smile on her lips. Was she always smiling?
“I used to record everything around me with it.” The papers on her desk were long forgotten. “Everything that made me happy, to never forget it.”
He smiled at her way of seeing things. “You still do?”
She hummed. “From time to time, when I’m utterly, incandescently, happy.” He was about to comment on that but she interrupted him. “Besides, vintage makes everything look good.” She laughed and he did too.
Charlie entered right when their laughs were in sync and their eyes shined. “Your tea, Mr. Christensen.” The boy left the drink on the small table there and walked away with a smirk on his lips.
“Are you ready for today?” With a few strikes, he sat on the sofa facing her. She nodded, biting her lips, while arranging the stacks of papers on her desk. He was about to comment on something about her nervous behaviour but chose against it, afraid of making her more nervous. “Did you eat something?” She shook her head. “You want me to grab you a coffee or something?”
She looked up to him. The same kind eyes of all those months back were looking at him “No, thank you.” and shook her head. “If I drink coffee now I’m afraid I will not be able to sit still on the reading table.” A little laugh escaped his lips and the same shyness, and blush, from months ago, appeared again making him clear his throat. Get it together.
With small talk, his attempt to take her mind out of what was about to happen, the time had passed and they had to go to meet the rest to do the first reading table. They exited the office and, as the gentleman he was, he offered to carry all the papers in her hands, but she refused it. Claiming that she was more than capable of doing it herself.
For the first time since he saw her that day, he paid attention to her whole outfit and it was much more formal than the one she used the first day they met. Little heels that made her reach his mouth, black tights, a skirt with a little cut on the side that fitted quite well and a black shirt with the first two buttons undone. And she smelled like jasmine, like the ones in her office.
They reached the room where everything was going to unfold and she stopped a few meters from the door. “You okay?” Hayden asked her and she nodded. “You need a minute?” She nodded again and he gave it to her, even took a step back and let her gather her strength.
The brunette watched her take a few deep breaths and move her head from side to side. “Okay, you got this.” He heard her mumble and a smile appeared on his lips. After a few seconds, she turned around and looked at him. “Ready when you are,” she joked.
He got closer to her laughing, “Ready.” She nodded and he held the door for her to enter first, he walked after her.
Ewan was already there, the executives and the three writers too. The two long-time friends hugged each other and caught up for a few minutes. “Have you already met our amazing, incredible, director?” The Scottish man asked.
“Yes, I had the pleasure,” Hayden said, looking around for her. She was standing by his side moments ago and now she wasn’t.
“She’s amazing, I have been working with her since the beginning and I promise you are going to be blown away by her.” Ewan was more excited by all that was happening than any of them. 
“I have not a single doubt,” his eyes found her in the mess of people and a smile appeared on his lips.
Four days of the same routine, Hayden would arrive every day a little earlier than the prior just to sit in her office and talk to her. Some days Charlie would have a tea already in the making for him and others he would carry a coffee with a chocolate muffin in hand for her because she tended to not eat.
And his list of things he noticed about her would keep getting longer. Her favourite colour was red, she had a sweet tooth, and jasmines and yellow daffodils were her favourite flowers, she used normal glasses when her eyes got irritated after using lenses all the time; plus according to her, they added dramatic effect when she was stressed, she was left-handed, that she scrunched her nose, but her brows didn’t frown, when she didn’t like something and that she truly, and naturally, was a smiley person. All the things he noticed weren’t personal stuff, she was pretty reserved and he could resemble her about that.
It was the last day of the reading table and truth be told, the script was garbage. It was the same thing as the series that were already being streamed. All those days, and hours spent were futile, the ones he had to be seated at that table, not the ones he was seated on the sofa in her office. They all tried to bring something to the table for the script to work, but it was useless. Everyone knew it and someone had to rip the bandaid off. 
“Well...” the executive producer began, “thoughts?” And they all looked at her.
As if she could feel all the gazes on her, she looked up. “Sincerely?” And they nodded. She looked around the room, Hayden could see her demeanour changed as if she had built a wall inside her and was ready for anything. “It’s the same thing we saw billions of times.” She was straightforward. “If we keep this way, the critic is going to smash us.” She voiced what all of them were thinking.
“Excuse me?” One of the writers said.
She frowned, “we are making a series about an icon of the cinematography universe, whose story is tightly intertwined with one of the biggest villains of history, about a universe that changed lives and the way of seeing cinema and this script-” she picked it up “does not reflect that.” The nervous girl Hayden saw before was left at the door and seated with him was a decisive woman, with her work pants well put on and a clear idea in mind. "This script is too small for a production as big as this one, as awaited as this one."
“And what would you know about making a script for a production this big?” The writer looked at her up and down. “You are just a child, you are too small a director for a production like this.” All the people in the room were surprised at such harsh, disrespectful, words. “Little Miss Director.” He added with a derogatory tone.
Ewan and Hayden were ready to chime in, along with a few other people on the crew, but she beat them to it. “First of all, you are excused.” She raised her chin and sat straight. “Second, I formed myself, I studied and improved after every project I made, it didn't matter how little it was.” Long was gone the sweet tone she carried. “I'm worthy of being here, believe me, I am one of the best out there and I have the skills to direct this project.” She had a cold look in her eyes. “If this is your script, which I guess it is, by how offended you are getting at hearing my honest opinion, maybe it’s you who does not know about big productions.” 
The silence that fell upon the room was a sepulchral one, not even a fly flew around. She kept her gaze on the writer until he stormed off the room, followed by a bang from the door. They all looked that way, but Hayden kept his eyes on her and caught the moment when she let go of a shaky breath and played with one of the many rings on her fingers. Their eyes connected and he frowned, asking a silent question, but she just gave him a small smile, reassuring him she was fine. 
After apologies from the executive producers and the writers on behalf of the rude partner, they all agreed with her that the script was awful and that she was right. Ideas came and went but nothing seemed to fit and be worthy of, the concept they had in mind. “You worked as a writer too for the projects you were on, didn't you?" Ewan asked, looking at her. "Besides, directing them.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Yes…” 
“They were very good, award-worthy.” He added making her open her eyes big, Hayden frowned. But when she was going to answer, the Scottish talked again. “Why don’t you write something?”
She seemed caught off guard, Hayden watched how her lips parted a little and her eyes scanned the room, while Ewan had a kind smile on his lips. After all, he was one of the executive producers and he had that kind of power at the table. “Yeah, we will meet in a couple of months and we will discuss it again.” Another executive producer said.
She looked even more surprised, her brows a little more raised than before. “We can work with you, discuss ideas and build the story together.” One of the writers said while the other nodded eagerly. “We will help each other and it would be an honour for us.”
A smile appeared on her lips, but Hayden realised it was a nervous one; not like the ones he saw her make when she took a sip of her coffee, or when she talked about the video camera in her office. “Yeah, okay.” The confident woman who put the idiot writer in his place was gone and the same nervous girl who was left outside the room appeared again. “We can do that. There are a few ideas in here that we can use as a base and build upon them.” She nodded looking at the script as if it was going grow a mouth and eat her alive
The meeting finished after a few minutes and they talked about schedules for the future, which was uncertain until the scripts were ready. When Hayden got up to talk to her she was already on her way to walk away from the room, like her life depended on it, and was left to talk with Ewan, not that he didn’t like catching up with his friend, but if he was honest, he was a little worried about her.
January 2020, first vestiges of emotions.
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The last time the pair saw each other they couldn't even have the chance to say goodbye because when Hayden went to her office to talk to her, Charlie told him she was already gone for the day and he was flying back to Canada in a few hours. He weighed the options of calling her, or sending her a text, to ask if everything was fine but in the end, he desisted, to not come up as dense. 
To his surprise, she texted him a few weeks after their last encounter, a simple hello, sorry to bother you, and presenting herself, as if he didn’t know who she was. All that to talk about work, about the script she, and the other writers, were working on.
Finally, it was time to see them, the team, in person. To see her in person. Their routine was picked up where they left it, him taking her a coffee and muffin and a hot tea waiting for him at her desk, and, of course, he arrived early. 
“Hello, Charlie,” Hayden said as soon as he passed the door from his office floor. 
“Hello, Mr. Christensen,” The boy said, despite the multiple times he told him to call him by his name and not that formal title. “She will arrive shortly, you can come in,” Charlie said with a smile on his lips. “You already know the way.” 
Laughing a little, he walked towards her office. There were new drawings on the shelves, still no photos, the video camera was still in place and the smell of jasmine was still there. The sticky posts on the computer were there and despite all his mother's teachings that what he was going to do was impolite, he did it. Slowly he walked to the other side of her desk and readed them. 'Most Ardently’ was writing in one of them with a little heart and clear handwriting, ‘Shine on, you crazy diamond. Love, the kids and I’ that one made him frown. She was married with kids? The kids would explain all the drawings, but she never mentioned anything about kids when he talked about his daughter, and the married thing was hard to guess with all the rings she had on her fingers. She never said anything about being taken, nor had any photos in her office with someone, and she was a very closed person, so he was not going to pray into her private life if she didn’t let anything on. 
And like months ago, when they first met, he heard her sweet voice in the hallway talking with Charlie and it went almost the same way it did the first time, him being cute wasn’t said that time. 
“Hi, Hayden.” She said as soon as she opened the door. When he looked at her he had to suppress a laugh that was about to escape his lips. “What?” She was frowning at him.
His eyes trailed her up and down. “You are under all that?” She was small, that much was a fact, but she looked so much smaller under the, almost, total black outfit she was wearing. A big ass long coat, loose high dress pants, a fitted t-shirt that covered her up to her neck and white Converse, that looked like they were from his daughter from how small they seemed.
“Well yeah.” She took the sunglasses off her head and a few rebel hairs fell to her face making her blow them away. Her silver rings and silver necklace with her initials contrasted with her clothes. “I’m cold.”
“I can see that,” he laughed while walking to greet her. It came naturally to him to kiss her cheek followed by a little. “Hello.” The smell of jasmine invaded him and his voice sounded deeper for some reason. When he moved away, the brunette took notice of how her cheeks and nose were red from the cold. Was it from the cold though? “Are you that cold?”
“Huh?” She frowned like she didn’t understand. “Ah, yeah.” She nodded, and a nervous laugh escaped her lips. 
Charlie interrupted them carrying his tea while she hung her coat and got comfortable. The little interaction was forgotten by the time the boy walked out of the office with a frown on his face, looking at his boss. “I brought you breakfast,” Hayden said pointing at the cup next to her keyboard.
She smiled kindly at him, but that smile changed when she took a sip of the hot drink. It wasn’t a bad change, it was a good one. The way her lips curved gave him flashbacks of the memory tattooed on his brain about the first time he met her in person. He wasn’t afraid of messing up her coffee order, he knew it was the right one because he had picked it up on the few times they had been together.
She seemed less nervous this time around, there weren’t stacks of papers on her desk like the last time, nor she wasn’t running around. She seemed grounded, confident even. He tried to get information out of her about the new scripts but it was impossible, she gave him vague answers with a polite smile on her face, which made him laugh. “You are getting better at this,” he took a sip of his tea, looking at her.
“I know,” she smiled smugly. “I've been taking notes on how not to spill everything about a new project.” The brunette noticed how proud she looked about that. “I wouldn’t want them to fire me for speaking too much,” her tone was a playful one.
He laughed. “They would never,” his eyebrows were frowned and he shook his head. “Not after all the work you’ve done,” he reassured her.
Between sips of hot drinks, Hayden told her about his farm in Canada, about Briar Rose and small things here and there about his life while she listened attentively to all his words. The morning sun entering from the window behind her, seated at his side, added some kind of soft, cosy, effect to the office. Intimate. While they were laughing about something he said, a knock on the door behind him interrupted them. “Come in,” she called, still laughing.
“Hello there,” an accent Hayden recognized very well reached his ears and she started laughing again.
The brunette turned around and standing there was Ewan with a smile on his face. “Obi-Wan,” the pair said, making the Scottish laugh too.
“Good to see you two here.” They all hugged each other. “I was coming to pick our beloved director up but you beat me to it,” he joked looking at him.
Immediately she blushed. “We are having breakfast, would you like something?” She asked in her sweet tone.
“No, no. Nothing darling, thank you.” The trio stood in the middle of the office. “Are you ready?” Ewan asked and Hayden looked at her too.
She nodded, “Yeah, everything’s ready. The scripts are already arranged in the room where we are going to meet, the seats are designated.”
“You are well prepared then,” Ewan said surprised. “Yeah, you seemed more ready than last time when you were running around like crazy until the last minutes,” Hayden added. If his eyes weren’t on her, he would have seen the look in his dear friend's eyes.
“Well, I've had everything ready for like a week or so,” she shrugged but the pair looked at her surprised. “What? I like having things in order,” she defended herself.
It was time for them to meet with the rest of the crew so they walked out of the office, her first, and made their way there. The two men told her about the funny things they remembered while they filmed the first two movies and the technology they had to do it. 
Hayden noticed that she seemed much more carefree this time around than the first time they did the table reading, she didn’t stop at the door to take a deep breath, nor to give herself a little pep talk. She just entered the room like she owned it, like she deserved to be there, which she did, and that made him smile.
Just as she said, the table already had the scripts on it and tags in front of the chairs, it was a completely different room than the one they were months ago. There were different people inside, who were supposed to be the cast, the writers, the executive producers and them. “Ready boys?” She asked with a smile on her lips making them look at each other with their eyebrows raised and they laughed, but followed her nonetheless. 
They all sat around the big circular table, the writers at her sides, while he Ewan, and the rest of the team, dispersed around the table. The crew was also there, seated surrounding them. The reading started but her sweet voice didn’t chime in at any moment, Hayden watched her make notes here and there on her script and whispered with the writers beside her.
They connected eyes more than a few times, she always caught him looking at her for some reason, only a couple of times it was the other way around like they could feel their gaze on each other. Her reaction was always the same, a sweet smile on her lips. Her hair was held by a pen, again, and at some point, she put her glasses on. This time around she didn’t play much with her rings, but she did it with the silver delicate watch on her wrist. 
He looked around the table to watch the crew's reaction and they all had mixed emotions, but they were the exact opposite of what that rubbish script generated. By the time the reading ended, everyone was silent with unreadable looks on their faces. But she was in her world, still making notes. Almost three minutes passed when someone decided to speak. “Well,” Ewan broke the silence, from his tone he could guess, because he had his blue eyes fixed on her, that he was smiling. “Little Miss Director did it again.” She raised her head looking at him.
And looked around the table confused, suspiciously. “Meaning?” Her tone was so unsure, he found it cute.
“It’s brilliant, this is excellent.” One of the producers said.
Everyone chimed in to praise the script, the cast; the crew; and every single person in the room. Hayden watched at how her face broke into a beautiful big grin, eyes shining and cheeks blushed. Her eyes connected with his and he grinned too, that was the effect of her smile. 
The session was over and everybody stood up to leave, and this time she didn’t run away instead stood chatting with whoever approached her. “Didn't I tell you she was brilliant?” Ewan said, clapping his shoulder.
“Yeah, you did.” He nodded and his friend looked pleased. “It’s one of the best scripts I have ever read, well written; well articulated; balanced. It's amazing.” Hayden was speechless at how creative she was, at how amazing she was.
Ewan nodded proudly. “I knew from the moment I watched one of her films that she was perfect for the series, that’s why I recommended her for the position.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “Plus, her resume is impeccable. She's something else.” The brunette nodded with his eyes fixed on her. “Totally worthy of being showrunner.” Hayden looked at him surprised. “She didn’t tell you?”
He shook his head. “She doesn't talk much when we are together, I do most of it, plus she’s very private.”
“Yeah she is, it took me a while for her to trust me but she would eventually open up,” his friend tried to reassure him. “If she trusts you,” he added, clapping his back laughing. 
Hayden shook his head, “thanks man.” Ewan laughed harder.
“She reminds me of you a little bit when we first met,” the Scottish said and he looked at him frowning. “Incredibly passionate young soul, keen and very creative." 
Hayden smiled at the kind words of his dear friend and found it more special that he found such touching words related to her. He was about to respond when she walked towards them.
"Good job, Little Miss Director." Ewan joked when he saw her.
She laughed tilting her head back but did a little bow, Hayden smiled. "Thank you, Ewan." He bowed his head. "Truly for your trust and help in this process."
He smiled, "It was my pleasure darling." And they hugged.
When they parted, she looked at Hayden with a big smile too. He felt shy under her gaze but enjoyed it too. "Thank you too, Hayden." He shook his head. "For being patient with me and all my questions, helping me and your encouraging words."
Sweetly, as her voice, she hugged him. Engulfed him with her arms around his neck, she was on her tiptoes and he had to bend down a little to put his arms around her back, not her waist because he was respectful. The jasmine scent, her scent, reached his nose making him dizzy. His mouth was so close to her neck, to her pulse point, that if he moved his head a little to the right he would graced it with his lips and he felt her hot breath in his pulse point, making him weak on the knees.
The hug ended far too quickly for his liking. What? When they pulled apart he had to clear his throat and blinked a couple of times. Fucks sake, Hayden, get a hold of yourself. You are 38 and she’s 11 years younger than you, think straight.
February 2020, special day.
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It had been a couple of months since he last saw her, which he was thankful about because the hug she gave him was too much for him. Too much for his brain. Too much for his heart. Too fucking much.
He thought that maybe the peace of his farm would give him the clarity he needed but it didn't happen. Not a single clear thought about whatever he was feeling came his way. About work? Yes. About what he was going to eat for dinner? Lots. About feelings, which were a mess? Not a single one.
Ewan and he were talking on the phone about life, making a habit of staying in contact and not like the last decade and a couple of years. They were talking about projects and life, while all Hayden’s brain was screaming was, Ask him about her. ASK HIM! but he tried to not let that part of him win. 
Obviously was futile because he ended up talking about work, which of course ended up with her name being said. “You know anything about her?” He shut his eyes and frowned, with his free hand he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, I talked on the phone with her a couple of days ago. Something about the script.” His friend said and he nodded.
“How was she?” The words blurted out his mouth before he had the time to process them. He was seconds away from smashing his head through the wall if that made him stop thinking about her. Teenage behaviour, right there Hayden. The laughter on the other side of the phone made him shake his head, regretting asking. 
“Fascinated by our Little Miss Director I see.” Ewan teased and he had to hum because if he opened his mouth the teasing would meet no end. “I get it, she’s pretty awesome.”
“Yes, she is.” Well, fuck it, he would embarrass himself for shits and giggles.
The days after his chat with Ewan, where he mentioned her resume, he could have Googled her, to know what his friend meant, but he decided against it. The opportunity, the privilege, of hearing about her life from her mouth would be more rewarding, more special, than reading it on some gossip page.
Ewan laughed again. “It’s her birthday in a couple of days.” His ears perked when his friend told him the exact date when it was. “Did you know it?” 
“No, no. I didn’t know it.” Mentally the date was already marked. 
The Scottish laughed again. “Well now you know, thank me later.” The brunette thanked God that the teasing stopped because otherwise, he was going to mentally kick himself. They kept talking for twenty minutes and the conversation ended with “Send her something pretty!” from Ewan’s part before he hung up.
The date of her birthday came and Hayden kept looking at the phone on his counter, Briar Rose having breakfast next to him. “Are you okay Daddy?” She asked in her sweet voice.
“Yes, sweetie.” He caressed her face. “Just thinking.”
“ ‘bout?” Her big blue eyes looked at him.
He deliberated on telling her about his doubts or brushing them off. “It’s one of my friend’s-” Friend? Was she a friend? Or a colleague maybe? What was she?  “birthday and I don’t know what to get her.” Maybe she would help him decide what to give her.
“What she likes?” She asked, taking a sip from her princess cup.
He racked his brain trying to think about something she told him she liked, but a single thing came up. “Flowers.” Unconsciously he could scent jasmine, even though there wasn't a single one of them in his house. "Jasmine."
“They’re nice and pretty.” That was answer enough for him.
Smiling, he leant and kissed the crown of her head. “You are right, sweetie.” She smiled. “Thank you.”
Giving her a last look, he took his phone and walked to the living room. First tone. You got this. Second tone. Nothing to stress about. Third tone. They're just flowers. Fourth tone and they answered. Too late to back down.
Twenty minutes he was on the phone with the flower shop, twenty minutes where he felt like a teenage boy with a massive crush, a little pathetic if he was honest with himself, and then he went on with his day like normal.
He and Briar were making lunch when his phone rang, whipping his hands on a towel he grabbed his phone and as fast as he picked it up he almost let it fall. Her name appeared on his screen, she was calling. She was calling him.
After coming out of his astonishment, he answered it before she hung up. "Hello."
"Hayden, hi." Her sweet voice reached his ear. "How are you? I hope I'm not interrupting your day." He could hear her walking around her office.
He chuckled. "I'm fine, how are you?" He turned the burner down. "And you are not interrupting, we were making lunch." 
"We?" She cleared her throat. "Sorry. What were you making?" 
"Briar Rose wanted pasta for lunch, so I'm obliging." The little girl walked past him and he caressed her head.
"Nice, it goes great with the cold." The picture of her with her nose and cheeks red popped up on his brain. "I will not take much of your time with her." He shook his head as if she could see him. "I called you to thank you for the beautiful bouquet, I love it." 
He smiled, big and brightly. "I'm glad you liked it." Was she smiling too?
"The note is very beautiful too. My favourite part may I say." The teenage boy with a crush feeling was worthy then.
"I'm pleased to hear, Little Miss Director." He joked, hoping to hear her laugh and he did. 
"How did you know?" She asked curiously.
"A little chatty bird called Ewan maybe, possibly, most certainly, slipped that your birthday was coming up while we talked a few weeks ago.” Hayden knew that wasn't the entire truth, not even close, but just this time he was going to throw his friend under the bus for sure.
She laughed, and possibly she was shaking her head. "Who else if not him?" He laughed too and the background noise became louder. "I'm sorry to cut this short, Hayden, but I got to go." Her kind tone reached his ears.
"No no, please. Duty calls." He thought that she would send him a quick message so hearing her voice was a surprise, although it was for a couple of minutes.
"Bye, I hope your lunch is good. See you later, Starboy." And before he could answer, she hung up.
As if his life was taken from a cheesy rom-com, like the ones he acted in, Hayden stood in the middle of his kitchen looking at his phone as her name disappeared from the screen, but not the feelings from the centre of his chest.
His birthday was a special day for him, surrounded by the ones he loved the most. Spending the whole day with his daughter, eating with his family and having a fun time with a few friends. As the private person he was, he couldn't ask for more.
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April 2020, Unexpected delight.
Soon he would have to start training for Anakin's role, so he was enjoying the time off. Briar Rose surprised him with breakfast in bed, helped by his mother, who came around to greet him and helped her beloved granddaughter. 
They were seated in the living room talking about small things and his plans for the day when the doorbell of his front gate rang. “Did you invite someone?” He asked his mother while walking towards the phone he had by the door, but she shook her head. “Yes?”
“Is Mr. Christensen at home?” A male voice said.
He looked at the little screen there and it was a grown man dressed in a FedEx uniform. “Yes, he is.”
“We have a package for him, we need his signature to confirm that he received it.” The man showed the papers in hand and at the box below his arm.
“Okay, I’m coming.” Grabbing his jacket and keys, “It’s a package, I’ll be right back.” he said over his shoulder.
The walk towards the front gate was chilly, he had his hands in his pockets and nose buried in the neck of his jacked. When he saw the guy at the door, the package he had in his arms was a normal size. “Hello.”
“Hello.” They nodded at each other. “You know what it is?” The brunette asked.
The guy shrugged. “No idea, man. It just says fragile and it’s from the US.” Hayden opened the gate and the guy passed him the pen and paper for him to sign. 
He did it, but frowning. It couldn’t be the script, because she would have told him, or Ewan. His friends would have told him if they would be sending him a present, so that wasn’t an option. He tried to think what could possibly be but nothing came to mind. He handed the pen and paper back and the guy gave him the box. “There you go, have a nice day.”
His blue eyes were fixed on the box. “Yeah you too, man.” As quickly as he could he made his way back to the house.
Shaking the box to see what was inside wasn’t an option because it said fragile and whatever it was it could break. His curiosity was getting the best of him when he entered his house. Briar and his mom were still seated on the couch talking but raised their heads to look at him. “What is it, dear?” His mom asked but he shrugged. “From who is it?” He shrugged again. “You know something?” She asked, teasing.
He rolled his eyes. “It’s from the US and it’s fragile.” Her mom frowned. But he walked towards the kitchen and put the box on the counter while he looked for scissors. 
“Can I see it, daddy?” Briar Rose asked from the couch. 
He opened the top drawer. “As soon as I open it, I’m going to show it to you, sweetie.” His voice raised for her to hear him.
The box had a simple black box inside and nothing on it, he frowned again but kept opening it. When he lifted the lid the inside was colourful and smelled amazing. It smelled like jasmine and he smiled. Large pieces of paper, of all colours, surrounded a black cup and a couple of tea bags next to it. He picked up the box and walked towards the living room. “Look, sweetie.”
The little girl opened her eyes big and made space, even though there was plenty, next to her for him to sit. “What is it?”
“A gift.” He said putting the box on the mini table there. The little girl picked up a few of the papers there and started playing with them.
His mother looked at it and smiled. “It’s nice. Who sent it?”
Hayden knew who sent it by the mere smell that came from it, the tea was another clue for all the times they had breakfast together. “A friend.” Two simple words that had nothing simple, describe nothing simple and meant nothing simple to his feelings. His big hand engulfed the cup and lifted it, a laugh came out of him when he saw what was engraved on the side.
Briar Rose and his mom looked at it and the little girl found it hilarious, even though she didn’t quite understand the reference, while her mom laughed a little too. “Storm Pooper.” The girl said between giggles and Hayden laughed at hearing her giggling. 
His mother passed him a white paper folded in half, “there’s a note.” 
Quickly he exchanged the cup for the paper with her and stood up. His name was written in clean neat handwriting and inside were a few simple words. 
Happy Birthday, Starboy, enjoy your day surrounded by the people who are glad and cherish your presence in this world.
 Love, Little Miss Director.
“Someone special?” His mom’s voice brought him back to the real world. He looked at her frowning for a couple of seconds before his eyes fell back to her words. “You are smiling quite big right now.”
Why deny the obvious? “I have to make a phone call, can you keep an eye on Bri?” But he didn’t wait for an answer and walked to the kitchen with his phone.
The last time they talked on the phone was in March for something related to the script, a few questions she had about when he filmed the movies and Ewan was also on the call because the question was directed at him too, so it wasn’t like they talked to each other and it was completely professional. First ring. Keep it simple. Second tone. Casual, relax. Third ring. You are just colleagues, nothing more. Fourth ring. Nothing more because she’s 11 years younger than me. Fifth t- “Hi.” Her sweet voice reached him, a little out of breath as if she was running.
“Hello.” And again, for some reason, his voice went deeper. More than what already was.
Music could be heard in the background. “Did you receive it?” She sounded excited. “Please tell me it arrived whole, please.”
He laughed. “Yes, it did.” She exhaled. “Thank you very much.” He smiled and hoped that she was smiling too. “You didn’t have too.”
“Nonsense.” He could imagine her shaking her head. “Did you like it?” She sounded unsure and he tilted his head to the side. “Because if you don’t it’s okay.” She didn’t let him answer. “I have the sense of humour of a twelve-year-old and I will not apologise for it, but I will understand if you find it hideous.” She used, what he remembered was, her mocking tone and took him back to one of the times he was in her office and they were just chilling. 
“I love it.” He said truthfully and heard her make some victorious sound that made him laugh, which made her laugh. “Briar Rose found it hilarious too.” 
“She did?” She sounded excited again. “Oh, that’s amazing.” He nodded. “When we saw it, I thought that it was hilarious and had to buy it for your birthday.”
He was touched by the sentiment and the gesture. She saw something and thought about me. But the plural pronoun made him frown, it didn’t sit right with him. “We?”
“Yeah, my niece, nephew and me.” She was sharing something private about her. She trusts me. “They are a little older than Briar Rose.”
“Oh.” So the drawings must be from them. But was she married? “Well, you have great taste and as soon as I use it, I will let you know.”
She laughed. “Thank you and I hope you like the tea too.”
“So, what’s up with the nickname?” Since she started calling him like that after her birthday the question has been on his mind.
She laughed. “It seems only fair since I’m Little Miss Director that you are Starboy.” and said in an obvious tone. “Does it bother you? Cause if it does I will stop calling you that.” She was quick to say.
But he shook his head. “Not at all, I’m okay with it.” He heard her hum and, a little afraid, of the conversation finishing there he scratched the back of his head thinking about what he could say to keep her on the phone. “I called in at a bad time?” Hayden wanted to keep talking to her, keep hearing her voice.
“No no, I was cleaning my house, that’s why I was late to answer.” He nodded even though she couldn't see him. 
“On Sunday?” She would notice that you don’t want to hang up, Hayden.
“It’s my only free day.” She laughed. “What about you? Big plans for today?”
They talked for a little while longer, about noncenses, but Briar started calling for him and he didn’t want to take too much of her time, bullshit, so the call was cut short. But the smile he carried for the day was notorious to his mum, to his daughter, to his friends, to everyone who saw him that day, and all because of a phone call with his director.
Next Part →
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astrobaeza · 6 months
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CAREER ASTROLOGY
potential careers for your midheaven sign! 👩🏽‍💻💼🔎
Astrology can indicate what areas of life you might naturally excel at, your talents, and even your destiny. The Midheaven or MC is a point in your birth chart that represents your public persona, reputation, and how you choose to present yourself to the public. Your MC suggests what most makes you feel alive and your legacy in yor lifetime. Though it will take years for you to grow into your MC sign, you can use your Midheaven sign, ruler, placements and aspects to both to identify what career path might suit you. This is helpful for people especially in their 10th house profection year, where themes of career, reputation, and legacy are significant or even if you just want to prepare for the future.
Disclaimer: These are recommendations for what might be easier or more natural for you! REMEMBER: You can be anything you want in this lifetime!
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(For example, The Weeknd has an Aries Midheaven – he is a trailblazer, leader, and icon in the music industry with a unique sound. Also the first to win many awards and to hold a lot of coveted titles --> very Aries-like)
ARIES MIDHEAVEN --- themes: bold, passionate, self-starting, trailblazing, aggression, leading
☆ ruling planet: Mars
☆ recommended careers: entrepreneurship, athletics, anything where you can lead yourself
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TAURUS MIDHEAVEN -- themes: classy, tasteful, beautiful, talented, artistic, wealthy
☆ ruling planet: Venus
☆ recommended careers: beauty, musician, modeling, makeup artist, fashion designer, arts, photographer, finance, anything involving aesthetics, design, visuals and money
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GEMINI MIDHEAVEN -- themes: good communicator, intelligent, versatile, witty, charming, vocal
☆ ruling planet: Mercury
☆ recommended careers: journalism, performance, teaching, writing, the Arts, design, fashion, sales, public relations, advertising, commentator, observer, translator and broadcaster
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CANCER MIDHEAVEN -- themes: nurturing, kind, sweet, affectionate innocent, intuitive, ambitious, security driven
☆ ruling planet: Moon
☆ recommended careers: health workers, chefs, real estate agents, social workers, ministers, politics, musician, nanny, teacher, doctor
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LEO MIDHEAVEN -- themes: confident, fun, creative, flamboyant, visible, competitive, 'superstar', popular, entertaining
☆ ruling planet: Sun
☆ recommended careers: performing arts, acting, politician, spokesperson, social media influencer, reality TV, anything that allows you to shine
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VIRGO MIDHEAVEN -- themes: precision, diligence, organization, detail-oriented, communicative, practical, moral, skillful
☆ ruling planet: Mercury
☆ recommended careers: medicine / healthcare professional, engineering, hospice care, accountant, HR, manager / administrative jobs
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LIBRA MIDHEAVEN -- themes: beautiful, elegant, charming, social, harmonious, diplomatic, collaboration, communication, aesthetics
☆ ruling planet: Venus
☆ recommended careers: decorating, fashion designer, beauty industry, musician, lawyer, counseling, therapist, law enforcement, customer service, human resources
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SCORPIO MIDHEAVEN -- themes: power, control, allure, mysteriousness, enigmatic, strength, magnetism
☆ ruling planet: Pluto
☆ recommended careers: researcher, psychologist, investigator, finance (tax, banking, investing), scientist, occultist, politician, s3x work, mortician
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SAGGITARIUS MIDHEAVEN -- themes: wisdom, education, knowing, funny, bold, personable, philosophy, energetic, honest, sincere
☆ ruling planet: Jupiter
☆ recommended careers: sales, teachers (specifically university), travel consultants, comedians, preacher / spiritualist, pilot, flight attendant,
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CAPRICORN MIDHEAVEN -- themes: power, status, drive, ambition, respect, honor, recognition
☆ ruling planet: Saturn
☆ recommended career: CEO, doctor, manager, banker, property owner / investor
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☆ AQUARIUS MIDHEAVEN -- themes: innovation, influence, freedom, orginality, service, socialization
☆ ruling planet: Saturn / Uranus
☆ recommended career: scientific or mathematical fields, engineer, innovator, astronomy, astrology, engineering, environmental science humanitarian work
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☆ PISCES MIDHEAVEN -- themes: enchanting, talented, creative, intuitive, dreams, passionate
☆ ruling planet: Neptune
☆ recommended career: musician, director, author, healer, psychic / occultist, spiritualist
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hi it's the good omens mascot here's some shit about me that might be relevant
I appear to have accidentally caused chaos so I figured you might as well know about me since I'm responsible for it. And also so that you know who you broke, thanks ineffable fandom.
I have been called the prophet by some of you all. This is not entirely untrue, but I would like to add as I did in one post, that Apollo also gave me the curses of art, (very emotional) music, (sometimes good mostly dreadful) poetry, (same parentheses apply, except that the dreadful is on purpose) writing and (used to be good now dreadful) medical knowledge, and so yes, you did accidently adopt a messenger of an ancient Greek god.
Yes, this entire entry into your cult happened from start to now happened in 48 hours.
This will seem less bizarre when I give you context about me and fandoms. I changed career paths (after three years of intense study that cost me my sanity) from science to the arts because I was inspired by drarry fanfiction of them leaving their ministry jobs and following their dreams. Yes I tossed three years and my loss of sanity away in one week of decisions. I'm now a designer. Thanks Draco.
I read so much drarry fanfiction that my mum had to take me to the hospital for injured wrists. I wore wrist and elbow supports and was in constant pain for a few months. I was only later introduced to autoscroll. Yes, I am a fool. Yes, I am unaware of how to human.
I'm broke and cheap enough that I feel guilty buying bottled water, but for Christmas I spent the equivalent of around 150 bottles of water getting a Bakewell tart custom made (they don't sell them where I live). Why? Because in one single fanfiction, it is Draco's favourite food. I would never spend that kind of money on a dessert for any real human being.
That is to say, you all are not ready for when I REALLY fall for Crowley. I don't saunter vaguely downwards for people. I bypass earth and crash into hell, leaving a smoking pit in its infernal ground.
I swear I'm not as dumb as I seem, I just have ZERO general knowledge, and am terrible with faces. I can tell you what the graffiti on the walls of Pompeii from before 70 AD said but I don't know who my previous president was, and personally I think that's very classy of me.
Some of you seem concerned about my sleep schedule. Worry not, I sleep in four installments, night, morning nap, afternoon nap, evening nap. I sleep more than you all, that I can promise. I sleep more than my doggy sister.
About the streams and the timezones, I have no idea how to make it so people can watch, because I frequently mix up east and west and last morning I mixed up the Pacific and Atlantic ocean. I don't know at what point the Eastern hemisphere becomes the Western or how any of it works. I also thought Wakanda was a real place.
But hey fun fact, in 2020 diclofenac sales were dropping in Iceland. I know this because I wanted to make sure to use the correct painkiller in one sentence of a story I was writing. It was completely irrelevant. But hey any of you writers here probably feel my pain. I don't write fanfiction, but I am an author and I write original stories. And honestly what is more useful, Icelandic diclofenac sales from three years ago or timezones?
A career test once told me to be a standup comedian.
Yes that's me Asmi, just your regular dumbass lad who is slightly unhinged, serving himbo twink energy, hello hi nice to meet you all. PS: the poll results are out and Doctor Who won, so tremble, DW fandom.
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comfys · 7 months
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fave cc creators.. with notes!
this is a list of my frequently used cc creators and some of my thoughts on them. this list will be updated sporadically.
build/buy
felixandre + harrie (house of harlix) - best maxis match build creators hands down. well made, consistent, always versatile. changed the sims 4 cc game in my opinion. could write a book about why they're great.
pierisim - also extremely consistent, really well thought out sets that are essential to me.
the clutter cat - super cute items that will make your build complete. continuously improving in quality.
syboulette - extremely versatile. has build items that i use across all categories, does both alpha and mm.
peacemaker - og creator. great sets in many different styles. quality of items still improving after years in the game.
myshunosun - really cute mm stuff. always free
awingedllama - nice, down to earth sets
sixam - versatile, very cute, well made mm items across design styles.
charly pancakes - cute and dependable mm
tuds - super classy items that will elevate your build
rustic sims - unique and bold style mm items that will stand out
aira - adorable clutter stuff. really cute for kids
max20 - good stuff that blends very well with maxis
kkb - very underrated. maxis match and really useful
pinkbox-anye (aka plushpixels for mm content) - the best alpha build buy creator in my opinion. really classy and useful items
aggressivekitty - amazingly detailed items. creates large sets will tons of clutter items
novvvas - good alpha stuff
cowbuild - alpha creator
leosims - really cute items in lots of different styles
little dica - i only have few items from them because they're not really my style. but you should check them out for appliances
around the sims 4 - really useful clutter items that will bring your build to life
s-imagination - good quality mm sets
lory sims - alpha car cc
lilli's palace - traditional/historical european build items
ledger atelier/modern sims - nice alpha furniture
platinum luxe sims - luxe decor
wondymoon - alpha-ish build stuff. usually modern style
hel-studio (1, 2) - great alpha content. *warning: they are retired therefore there is a small risk their cc could break and they may not be able to fix it. i have no issues though*
clothing/cas
rimings - well made alpha clothing mostly for female sims
belaoallure - trendy, sexy alpha clothing for female sims
babyetears - cute
serenity - well made maxis match
gorilla x3 - great for male sims. well made alpha style
sentate - well made pieces for female sims
kk's creation - great for men's clothes. alpha style but looks sorta mm
joan campbell beauty - nice clothes for female sims
greenllamas - cute and fun clothes and hairs, mm
caio - good mm
woosteru - really cute mm clothes for male sims
rusty's - really nice well made mm clothes
elliesimple - classy and trendy. alpha
charlonlee - ultra hip and trendy. alpha
jius - great shoes for both genders and all ages
madlen - nice mm clothing and shoes
backtrack - fun female clothes, alpha
christopher067 - great accesories
darte77 - high quality alpha men's clothes
aretha - cute mm items geared toward younger female sims
b0t0xbrat - alpha clothes for young female sims
tommeraas - really cute stuff for infant-child sims
sifix - classy alpha clothes
simpliciaty - maxis mixy clothes, high quality alpha hairs
hair
daylife sims - elevated maxis match. bold styles
simstrouble - maxis match but detailed and high quality
dogsill - cute female hairs
shea buttyr - necessarry for black hair
imvikai - great quality mm female hairs
gegesims - really cute styles for black hair
johnnysims - great hair for guys
aharris00britney - good mm hair for female sims
simcelebrity - great mm hair for female sims
qicc - great for curly and textured hair
sleepingsims - really cute black hairstyles
aladdin the simmer - cute and detailed mm hair
khadijah551 - nice afro textured styles
ceeproductions - good quality mm hair, textured styles
ebonix - gorgeous alpha hairs for black sims
okruee - cute distinct hairs
genetics, etc.
luumia - creator of height slider and other sliders, male body hair, vanilla skin default
kijiko - creator of EA eyelash remover + 3d eyelashes
nesurii - great mm skin overlays/genetics
mclaynesims - Great tattoos for male sims!
northernsiberiawinds - both alpha and mm skin overlays and other details. very well made
twistedcat - gorgeous skin overlays and cute makeup
obscurus - great for all kinds of overlays and genetics
golyhawhaw - great body presets, skins, and other genetic items for male sims
praline sims - great for makeup, beards, accessories and more
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telvess · 3 months
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Reader using pick-up lines on them
chaotic writing for the fun
Hades
“You should be arrested for stealing my heart!”
Pick-up lines, hmm? Alright, fine, but did you have to use the most pathetic, the cheesiest one? Hades is way too elegant for such a poor tasted attempt, he actually feels offended by your words.
Your first impression is horrible. Hades silently judges you. Of course, he is too classy to make any snarky comments, but you can tell by his cold, indifferent look that he has lost all interest in your company. At this point, he is more of a Poseidon than his brother himself.
If you aren’t the type of person who gives up easily and still tries to flirt… just stop. The best you can get from him would be „yes”, „no” or a nod of the head.
Buddha
“You see my friend over there? She want to know if you think I'm cute.”
Buddha stares at you for a long moment, then looks over your shoulder to check out your friend (who you obviously made up), then then returns to you. His expression is blunt, maybe slightly bored. Totally makes you lose the confidence you had a moment ago as you watch him lazily suck a lollipop and pierce you through with his unimpressed glare.
The worst he can say is „no”, right? Well, who would have thought that the enlightened mind of Buddha would prove otherwise. A drawn-out silence makes you uncomfortable and you start to squirm under his gaze, not ready for that unfazed attitude of his…
Once the confidence you felt approached him vanished and you are ready to leave as quickly as possible, Buddha begins to laugh historically. You jump up a little and stare at him confused. It takes him a while to calm down, but when he does, he looks at you seriously again and says „tell your friend I find ya cute” with the most annoying smirk in the entire universe.
Susanoo
“Do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”
Susanoo watches you with harsh expression, his eyebrows raising as your attitude doesn’t change. You just stand in front of him and wait for his answer. Kinda hot, he has to admit.
He is amused by this shitty attempt, but still has to admit that it takes some balls to say something so crappy to his face. You’re bold, stupid and definitely not in your right mind.
He would definitely address all of the above and then… respond to you with an even cheaper pickup line that he thinks sounds good. He is very proud of himself and oblivious to the point that it matches his intimidating aura.
Susanoo likes a person who isn’t concerned with what everyone think of them, but he is also a person who expects others to submit to his will, which makes him rather difficult person to flirt with, demanding from you to adapt to his confusing preferences.
Nikola
“If I could rearrange the alphabet, I'd put U and I together.”
BUAHAHAHAHA! HE WOULDN’T GET IT 100%!
He looks at you very confused at first, then he puts to work all of his braincells trying to figure out what you meant. Is this some kind of puzzle? Mystery? It’s clearly impressive, because he struggles to solve it!
Please, stop the brainstorming session before he starts writing his thought on the board and calls members of the science crew asking for the consultations.
After yours short explanation (which probably burnt your soul to the bones with embarrassment) Nikola nods, compliments your clever attempt and… continues what he was doing before this whole masquerade started, oblivious to the fact you just hit on him. So you just stand there and wait for something, but you last barely several dozen seconds before you run away to hide somewhere far, far away.
Much to your surprise, Nikola visits you the next day and invites you for coffee, bluntly.
Hermes
“Can I put my hand on your thigh, where it belongs?”
You sit next to him and get straight to the point. No hesitation, no shame in your eyes. Hermes’ eyes widen for a millisecond as the words leave your lips. Oh? Oh? Oh? He couldn’t help but let his lips stretch into a wide smile, trying to cover his mouth with his hand as a single chuckle escapes his lips.
When he pulls himself together, Hermes lets his playful nature take over. So you thought you were flirty? Hermes is too smart and too cunning to allow you triumph for long. Even if he isn’t interested, he will leave you with a dry mouth and wet panties. Hermes uses the tongue as smoothly as he uses the violin.
Apollo
“I'm sorry, were you talking to me?” He denies, “Well, would you like to?”
My, my, look at you! Approaching the Sun God just like this? Apollo is impressed. In fact, because of how intimidating he is, it's not often that others surprise him with such bravado. Usually they just treat him as something as intangible as the rays of the sun, bathing in his glory, praising him as a celestial being, not as a person. You - on the other hand - are a breath of fresh air.
Once the first shock wears off, his entire figure begins to glow and he gives you the most breathtaking smile you will ever see. From that point on, everything he does comes so naturally that it makes you lose yourself. After making great first impression, you end up like everyone else: Apollo wraps you around his little finger and before you know it, you just sit there and listen to his melodious voice as if you are bewitched. The man is too charming.
Poseidon
“Are you a magician? Because when I look at you, everyone else disappears.”
Peasant. Get out.
You aren’t clever. You aren’t brave. You aren’t impressive. The only person that will disappear is gonna be you, if you don’t remove yourself in the next 3 seconds.
Whoever didn’t stop you from approaching Poseidon like this, definitely doesn’t wish you well.
Kojirō
“Aren't you tired? From running through my mind all day?”
The man gives you surprised look, and moment later he presents you his widest smile. Sasaki has no clue what to say, so he just stands before you, rubbing his neck and blushing like teenage girl. He may stammers out a few words of thanks, but you really shouldn’t hope for more. Kojirō is simply not used to compliments, so even the simplest pick-up line can rock his world.
Please, ask him about swordsmanship, because it’s probably the only thing he can talk about while his brain fries in the skull.
Once Kojirō pulls himself together, he turns out to be exactly as carefree and friendly as you expected. The longer you two interact, the more open and less awkward he becomes.
Ares
“Do you have a name, or can I just call you 'mine'?”
Did you just? Huh???
Ares blinks a few times before his brain process information. He can’t believe you said something like that! Do you even know who you are talking to? He is Ares, the God of War! One of the twelve Gods of Olympus and son of Zeus! He deserves more respect, not some pathetic, human-alike attempt at flirting. He shouts all this in your face, making a big scene and ridiculing you in front of the others gods. For a moment he’s proud of himself, but your teary eyes quickly put him in a less mighty state.
To make things worse, you literally run away. At first Ares tries to ignore the feeling of guilt in his chest, pretending that your reaction was childish and exaggerated, but all he needs is Hermes to make a little remark (“Poor thing, it seems she gave her all to speak up.”) to make Ares’ face red.
He mutters some lame excuse to leave and starts looking for you. He still thinks your attempt was awful, but maybe - just maybe - his heart skips a beat knowing that some pretty miss thinks so highly of him.
Jack
“If music be the food of love, let’s have a feast together.”
Okay, this man isn’t used to hearing compliments, let alone hitting on him. Jack is a little shocked, not because he doesn’t understand you, but because you actually chose him. He doesn’t recognize you, but to his great surprise you seem to know a little about him. After all, you referred to Shakespeare. It couldn't have been an accident, right?
“Pardon me, lady?” is probably the first thing out of Jack's mouth as he’s still processing what you’ve said, but he quickly snaps out of his surprise, “Forgive me, where are my manners?”
Jack introduces himself properly, takes off the hat and bows like a gentleman. He then politely asks for your name, still fluttered that you gave him a chance.
Thor
“Did you do something to my eyes? I can't seem to take them off you.”
“…”
Neither Thor nor Mjölnir budge. Well, this is definitely something new; no one has ever approached Thor this way before, so he has to give you some points for creativity. However, don’t expect anything as Thor isn’t interested in continuing the conversation, so it’s up to you if you are interested in one-sided interaction.
Loki
“Well, here I am! What are your other two wishes?”
Loki stares at you without the slightest sign of interest, twirling strand of hair around his finger. He seems distant, almost like he didn’t hear you. Then he flinches, as if snapped out of trance. His face changes in a split second: a wide, forced smile and squinting eyes screaming at you to evacuate, because you’ve hit on the wrong guy. “Do you have a death wish, woman?” Loki asks, his voice has the sweetest tone that tickles your ears, but his words spew poison…
Loki is capricious. I don’t think it’s a matter of wrong pick-up line, it's rather more a matter of right timing. But even if you choose a bad moment to approach him, he probably wouldn’t hurt you (physically) - he prefers to scare others, toy with their fear than kill them.
On the other hand, if your timing is right, then you would still bounce off the wall, because Loki doesn’t intent to give you a straightforward answer; he would like to play with you, confuse you with the mixed signals he sends. He wants a reaction from you, entertain him. If you are cocky - his goal is to crush your self-confidence. Shy? Prepare for blushing, squealing and stuttering. Ah, you think you’re being funny here? Loki will gladly turn your smile into tears.
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thecapricunt1616 · 1 month
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Allspice (c.b oneshot)
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♡ O.S Inspo: Forever & Always - Fearless (TV) ; "Was I out of line, did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide like a scared little boy?" ♡ Pairing : CarmyxAFAB Reader as little physical description possible | She/Her pronouns used, NO use of Y/N :)
♡ Summary: You have a very successful Culinary Review blog, the social media manager of one of your new hometown restaurants 'The Bear' has been dying to get you out to try their food. But since the EC is a bit of an overzealous competitor, you end up having to go back for round 2- you end up having a delicious dinner, and a free show.
♡ W/C: 4,381
♡ Posted Date: 03/18/24
♡ A/N: FIRST THING: I am HORRIDDDD at writing Claire- I'm much better at writing Carmy cause were alot more similar- so this Claire isn't gonna be CRAZY canon, but I think she got the job done. Anyway- EEEEEP!!! Here is my VERY FIRST ONE SHOT EVER!! Inspired by my amazing, wonderful, PRECIOUS FLOWER @daysofyellowroses that can be found here :) AAAAA!!! My precious Rose I hope you enjoy this, It could ABSOLUTELY have a part 2 if y'all like it. I ended it here cause I'm sooo wordy and I didn't want it to turn in to a multi-chap. fic by mistake...but ofc if y'all want more just tell me and ill get RIGHT TO WORK!!! I really hope this comes off how I saw it in my head. There's no smut/sexy stuff, just mutual pining and flirty teasing, I hope thats ok!! aaa here we goooo!!! Enjoy <3
♡ Warnings for BTC: Swearing, Drinking alcohol (Literally it LOL)
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
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Being a Food Critic wasn’t an easy gig, as much as people wanted to believe it’s simply going to famous restaurants, trying their most popular dishes- and giving your opinion, it was much more then that. 
Each and every aspect of the restaurant was under your review, from the second you walked in the door, you were judging everything. From the atmosphere, to the music, to the decor, to the comfortability of the furniture all of it, was to meet your expectations if the owner of the establishment wanted a good review.
Today was finally the day you'd review one of the restaurants that had sent 3 requests for you to feature a review of them on your blog. 
The Bear. Interesting name, you thought.
With the rugged name- you’d assumed a more millennial hipster-New American vibe. But when you’d arrived- you were quite…impressed? That instead of leaning into that all too common aesthetic, it was more of a classy, comfortable vibe. 
They’d not even had bear art, anything of the sort. It was pure comfort, mixed with subtle class. The kind that spoke to the cost of the dishes- but wasn’t in your face obnoxious. The only ‘Bear’ was the little golden bear embossed into the leather menu you’d been handed when seated at the table. 
The way you did your reviews was…a tad unusual - some chefs in the industry called it ‘unfair’ but you called it…the fairest things could be. Instead of telling them when you’d be swinging by for a review since where’s the fun in that you’d call, make a reservation under some random name, and they’d know you’d accepted their offer when the review had been posted on your blog. 
It felt most honest and fair because you were one of the most renowned food critics in the country right now. If they knew you were coming- any EC with a brain would spend the night before your arrival, prepping the entire restaurant and staff - assuring they’d be on their best behavior to try and squeeze a higher grade out of you.
 But you were just a reader once upon a time, years ago- when you realized in culinary school that the making of the art didn’t interest you, it was the observing. Food wasn’t just about taste, but rather the whole experience. And if every famous food critic you’d taken interest in back in the day- never got a true experience due to their notability? You’d never have gotten into this field. So, you were most keen on keeping things fair. 
A woman with mousey brown hair comes up to your table, dressed in the typical waitress slacks and black button up shirt. “Hello! Welcome to The Bear. My name is Sam, have you dined with us before?” she asks. 
You sit up in your chair, peeling your eyes from the menu. You give her a small kind smile “I haven’t” you replied, urging her to continue her script. 
“Well welcome in, we're so happy you chose to spend your evening with us. So for our menu” she opens it in front of you. “Here” she points “are our wine options, fabulous selection this month. Then we have draft beers right next to it. On the following page” she points “all of our craft cocktails, then this,” she points in the bottom corner. 
“Our house cocktail - Just called The Bear. It’s wonderful, if you like old fashions you’ll love this - made with Bearface Triple Oak Whiskey.” She said and you nod. 
 “That please. That’s what I’ll start with” you said and she nodded. 
“I’ll get that right in. But quickly, just so you’re aware” she flipped the page and pointed. 
“These - are the dishes of the month. Each crafted by one of our two head chefs, they change monthly so if something calls to you I recommend you try- because it won’t be back” she said. You raised your eyebrows a bit in surprise and nod. 
“Thank you” you said and she gives a nod before heading off to the bar to put in your drink order before heading off to tend to other tables in your section. 
Having an alternating menu intrigued you, for such a high end establishment- one with a Michelin star at that- implementing such a menu would consistently have their star at risk. One dish, one app, one drink- that was not up to par and it would be revoked. You guessed the owners of this place liked living on the edge, as if being in this industry wasn’t already being constantly on edge. 
You gaze over the menu, the Chilean Seabass sounded like a fair assessment. Seafood was quite difficult to get right, especially in the springtime before peak season, and you’d be able to judge the consistency of the chopping and such because there was a fresh tomato corn salad that came with it. That was your rule when you came to judge restaurants, one main course, and one dessert.  
You’d felt like the main courses were the true stars of the show anyhow, and it would be unfair to muck up your palate with an app that was usually something easy to get right (since they were usually fried, covered in cheese, or some kind of carb). And the dessert usually showed the restaurant's creativity, which you loved to see, so 2 dishes was your max. 
The waitress returns with the cocktail, setting it down with a napkin under it. “Here you are, now- have you decided on a starter?” She questioned and you shook your head. 
“Straight to the good stuff, I’d like the Chilean Sea Bass please. And for dessert,” you flick the page and your eyes settle on the words savory cannoli - hmm, imaginative indeed. “And uh- The Michael Cannoli?” You said, shutting the menu and handing it to her. 
She nods with a smile, jotting down the order into her notepad before taking the menu and holding it to her chest. “That will be out soon as possible. Enjoy your drink” she said and headed back to the kitchen. 
You sit back sipping the cocktail and humming. She was right, much like an old fashioned, but floral notes. Almost…chamomile? Yes! That was it. Very interesting.
You slipped your iPad out of your bag, opening up your journaling app and grabbing the pencil out of the little sleeve. You quickly snapped a picture with your phone of the drink, airdropping it to yourself and adding it into the entry and writing;
‘To start; ‘The Bear’ house cocktail- initial thoughts ; not too sweet, strong (but not overpowering), chamomile? Some kind of herbal tea flower’ 
You take another sip, letting the flavors sit on your tongue a moment before swallowing. “Mmm!” You hum to yourself, finally realizing where the herby taste beneath the chamomile was coming from that gave it that oaky piney taste. 
‘Angostura bitters- will confirm!!’ You wrote just as someone approaches your table. You look up to see a man, short brown hair, stubble. He was smiling, holding a plate. 
“Hello! Here we have Arancini with our house-made pesto, courtesy of Executive Chef Carmen” he placed the dish in front of you next to your iPad. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly, looking up at him, scarcel confused. 
“Wrong table” you murmured, thumbing the dish back in his direction lightly. He cleared his throat awkwardly. 
“Nope- ah, he- he said this table.” He replied. It did smell fantastic, and any other day you’d never deny delicious, deep fried balls of risotto dipped in smooth, decedent pesto- but you’re working right now and it’s not fair. 
“Well, you can tell him” you lifted the dish, offering it back. “I have a system. And I’m unsure how he realized that I’m coming here, tonight, but I dislike cheaters. And he should know if he’s read my blog- I don’t muck up my palate with grease before I try the main course.” The plate was so close to him now it was nearly digging into his chest.
He nodded quickly, taking the plate without another word and briskly walking back to the kitchen. You sat back in your seat with a slight scoff. 
He thinks he can win you over just like that? How did he even know you would be here?
You picked up your pencil once again, adding a note. 
For the chef; Arancini smelt delicious. Didn’t order it, so I didn’t taste it . Presentation wise; 7/10. Pesto looked like it was spooned in the dish a tad bit messy to me. 
You smiled to yourself, you knew he’d read the final review once it was posted. And since he wanted to be a little cheater and get a overall higher score since he was trying to weasel you into trying extra dishes- you’d kick his ego down a few extra pegs for fun. 
You sat, nursing your drink, adding extra little notes here and there, as well as editing a blog post about Ghost Kitchens you’d been working on and how they were ruining the mobile order industry on the side. You were so engrossed in the work, that you hadn’t even realized someone had approached your table until they cleared their throat awkwardly. 
Your gaze slowly travels up, seeing a blue apron covering a white shirt, tattooed hands holding- your meal? Your eyes flicker up to his piercing blue ones. “Chilean Sea Bass” he sets it in front of you. You snort a laugh. 
“Hm.” You look around before back at him “These people” you motion to the restaurant. “Other patrons. Which meals of theirs did you bring out- Chef?” You accentuate the last word, it was all too uncommon for a chef to personally bring a meal out to a table. 
You swore even in the ambient lighting, his cheeks flushed slightly. “You- uh- you declined, my Arancini. Why?” He asked, holding his hands behind his back, the position making his already toned and tattooed arms appear more muscular. It makes him all the more impressive he has all these tattoos and still made it in this industry. I can only imagine the shit he got for them. 
You raise your eyebrows in surprise at his boldness. “Because that’s Cheating. Mr.Berzatto. I’d assume you know my work well. Considering you know what I look like, so- why try to cheat? You know how I feel about appetizers. It’s a scapegoat.” You shrugged, locking your iPad when you realized he’d been peeking at the notes. 
“Messy” his eyes narrow. He scoffs a bit, alluding to the note you’d written a short while prior “Messy?” He asks again, you laugh a bit.  
“Mmhmm! Oh, was it you chef? Wow…I mean- now that I think about it” you shook your head, now just messing with him since you see how much he was dying to impress you. “I could’ve sworn- the pesto it just..was too loose. Overblended maybe? That’s why it was impossible to plate without making a mess.” You shrugged, cutting up your fish carefully and spreading the vegetables with your knife to observe the cohesivity of the cuts. 
He scoffs, “too- too loose?! W-y’know what. No. No. It- you’re gonna try it.” He demands and you look up at him, nearly laughing at the seriousness of his tone. 
“That depends. Bring me a pesto worth trying and I’ll think about it. Now” you wave him off casually “I can’t work with the chef over my shoulder. So- Shoo chef don’t bother me” you teased and he shook his head. 
“Game on.” He muttered, heading back to the kitchen.  
You smiled to yourself, the Arancini absolutely isn’t going into the review. But you’ll humor his ego by trying it.
You cut the fish thoroughly, checking the texture and the evenness of the seasonings slathered on the skin, writing little notes as you go along. The cuts of the vegetables were pristine. Nearly perfect. The only misshapen pieces were clearly cosmetic defects of the vegetable. The chef that cut these was immaculate with a knife. 
When you took your first bite, you nearly moaned. The fish was buttery, the skin was crispy, slightly spicy, tangy, the flesh melted in your mouth. The risotto was so cheesy and buttery and wonderful. You could eat this meal every night for the rest of your life and never get sick of it. It was the best Sea bass you’d ever tasted. 
You opened your iPad again, jotting down notes about the flavors, the mouth feel, all the usual points you hit in your review. 
This meal is a 9.2 out of 10. 
You write at the bottom. Very fair score, you never had rated something as a 10. Something being a 10 would be- you don’t even know what it would be. But it would be what the score says, perfection. And while this dish was wonderful, and very very good- it was not perfect. At least to your heavily trained palate. 
You finished what you wanted out of the meal, pushing the plate to the side and not soon after, Carmen was back at your table. He placed the plate in front of you, 3 perfectly circular Arancini discs were placed equal distance on the plate, and truly beautiful pesto, sat in the dish alongside it. It frankly was immaculately plated. 
“Unbroken pesto. Sorry again, about the last one.” He said, watching you carefully. You hum as you grab your fork, splitting one of the discs and digging out some of the risotto. 
“Could be firmer.” You said, eyes flicking to his. He nods, clearing his throat a bit. 
“It’s not- uh- it’s” 
“Fresh” you finished for him, raising your brows and he nods. “So- since you’re frying it. You cook it for about..a minute- maybe forty seconds less than you usually would.” You said, daintily taking the bite off your fork. 
“Heard..” he nodded, waiting for your reaction. You hummed a bit. 
“Great balance of parm and butter though. I’ll give you that. Neither overpowers the other, that’s hard to do considering the notes” you added, cutting up the crust and tasting it. 
“Mm-“ you scrunch your nose and his face visibly drops. “Mm-mm…no- not peanut oil…why would you do that? It totally overpowers the breadcrumb with this like…cheapy taste. I’d say it would be way better if you fried it in sunflower oil” you added, digging out more of the risotto and dipping it in the pesto before having a bite and humming. 
“This though” you point at the little dish of green sauce with your fork. “This is great.” You add and he nods. 
“Ok-yeah…ok…” he nods, rubbing his hand over his chin. “Thank y’for trying it.” He said and you nod. 
“I’ll be back for a fair assessment. I think I’ll pass on the cannoli tonight, and just get the bill. Thank you” you slipped your pencil in the case before putting your iPad in your bag and holding your hands on the table in front of you. 
“Y-y’re coming back” he said, sounding slightly surprised. 
You shrugged “well- you clearly want a full review based on your behavior tonight, Chef. So I’ll humor you. I won’t tell you when of course, so just pray that it’s a day like today-“ you paused, looking around. “Where things seem to be running…alright.” You sat back in your chair casually with a small smile. 
“I look forward to your review.” He gave a nod and headed back to the kitchen. 
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It was 3 weeks before you’d decided to return back to The Bear spring had quickly turned to early summer, and you thought you’d given enough time for your little conversation with the head chef to slip his mind. 
It was 9:20, 40 minutes before closing. You did promise to come back at a random time, and no time is more random then a Friday night less than an hour before the kitchen closed. 
You pulled open the door, stepped in and headed up to the host stand where the same man that originally offered you the Arancini stood. “The picky critic returns.” He said, tapping his pen against the reservation book absentmindedly. 
“She does” you smiled a bit. 
“Well lucky f’you cousin said you get a table any time, right this way” he leads you to a booth near the back, where you had a perfect view of the restaurant. Much cozier then before, right next to the doors of the kitchen where you could hear the back of house crew buzzing about. 
“Same cocktail as last time?” He asked and you raised your brows in slight surprise as you sit. 
“No waitress?” You asked, getting comfortable and setting your iPad down next to the empty plate. 
“She’ll be over, just figured a friendly offer couldn’t hurt” he said with a small smirk. 
You roll your eyes playfully. “House cocktail please, and thank you. But don’t count on kindness boosting your hospitality score-“ you stop, realizing he never gave you his name. 
“Richie” he said, sticking his hand out to shake. 
“Richie.” You repeat, giving him your firm professional shake. 
“House cocktail comin’ up” he said and headed back to the bar. You mulled over the menu, lemon chicken picatta, that sounded like a perfect dish to judge this time around. 
A few minutes later, Richie returns, setting the glass down in front of you. “Waitress should be by momentarily, enjoy your meal” he said, heading back to the host stand. 
A bit after the waitress came to take your order, the restaurant had begun to die down. You were going to be the last person served tonight it looked like, since in 5 minutes they would stop seating people. 
You added additional notes to your section about the cocktail, getting a better photo of it for your blog when you hear a bit of commotion up front.
You look up, to see a woman with curled brown hair in navy blue scrubs, her hands on her hips, talking with Richie with a frustrated look. There were tears in her eyes, you couldn’t help but tune in to their conversation. 
“Richie, please let me see him- he- he hasn’t said anything and I…I just need to hear him say it to my face. Please!” She begs, tears were streaming down her face now. 
Richie looks around nervously, tugging her to the side so they weren’t standing right in front of the host stand. You lean over just a bit- not so much it would be noticeable, but enough your nosy ears could continue to pick up what was being said.
“Claire. You shouldn’t be here…I’m sorry- he told me-he said that..that you can’t come here anymore. It’s too much and he will apologize when he can find the words. But he can’t. So please before he sees you. Leave” he said softly, attempting to soothingly rub her arm and she jerks away like his touch burned her skin. 
“Fuck you, Richie. Get him. Now. I’m not working on his time anymore. This is my time now. I’ve waited around enough for him. I’m done waiting. Either get him yourself? Or I swear to god I’ll go in that kitchen and embarrass the fucking shit out of him” she hissed. 
Your eyebrows raised, shit. Whoever fucked her over should at least be warned. 
He snorts, clearly amused before stepping back and raising his arms in defeat. “Have at it ClaireBear.” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You think he’s gonna take kindly to you startin’ w’him in his house? Be my guest.” He shrugged, going back over to the host stand. 
And then it clicked. She’s here for Carmen.  
She laughed dryly, sarcastically, like a woman who’d had it. “You think I’m scared? Richie? You think I’m scared of little Carmy who couldn’t even check out a library book by himself? mm?” She goads him, arms crossed, chest heaving with rage. 
His head snaps back to look at her, brows raised in shock. “Kid- I really think you should go calm the fuck down, because Y’re not gonna like the way that this conversation ends w’him- at all.” 
And with that, she shoves open the kitchen door. You couldn’t just sit there and not watch- this was the juiciest drama you’d ever been privy to in person, and this means he’s single. You slightly curse yourself for being so giddy that this means the sexy chef would likely be on the market. 
Your foot catches the door before it closes, leaning against the frame. She storms in, eyes frantically darting over the kitchen. 
“Carmen.” She barks, the entire kitchen stops moving and looks at her, as if they were in shock and awe someone would ever raise their voice to him in such a way. 
He rounds the corner, holding a pan of focaccia dough that he nearly drops at the sight of her. He blinks a few times, squeezing his eyes shut as if she’d disappear when he opened them again. 
“The fuck are you-“ his eyes meet yours, his face going pale quickly, he looked white as a sheet. “Leave.” He orders her, slamming the dough down on the counter. 
“Leave?!” She laughs coldly, “you’re gonna tell me to leave?! You’re a fucking pussy Carmen. A pussy. Y’know- it was charity giving you a chance. Pity work.” She spits and you blink a few times, taken aback by such harsh words. 
Is she serious? She thinks anyone could believe dating a super hot, ripped, talented, chef prodigy - that was charity work in any sense of the word?
He scoffs, “Charity?” He chuckled dryly. “Claire- you begged me to fuckin’ be with you! You-you-y’re a fuckin gnat! Claire! You- all you do is-is fuckin’-” he runs his hand through his hair, his chest heaving in anger, “You dont know me, Claire! Alright? There- And I-I-I don’t want you i’m-i’m sorry-” 
She laughed, shaking her head, tears streaming down her face. “You-” she whispered, her chest shaking with a sob. “You- fucker- I- I gave you a chance…” she whispered and gripped her wrist sadly. “I- I was there for you, Carmen- when no one else could fucking stand you.” she croaked.
“And I never asked for you too- please- just…leave me alone-” he shook his head. “Leave. Please…just-pretend we never happened, it was a mistake, Claire.” he breathed, clearly utterly defeated, and It sounded like he’d told this girl these same words multiple times. 
“M-Mikey would be sick- Carmy, he’d- he’d hate who you’ve become…” she said meekly, and with that- something behind his eyes snapped.
“Claire I’m not DOING THIS I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FUCKIN’ RESTAURANT. WERE OVER. YOU ARE NOTHING TO ME! YOU MEAN NOTHING CLAIRE!” He roars, the veins in his neck popping out, angrily and aggressively pointing to the door. “OUT. get the fuck out. G-get out, b-before I-I-I fuckin- holy fuck” he finds his composure once more, even though his breath was still ragged from his outburst, flicking his hand next to him his entire body trembling with panic. 
She looks to her left and right, she’s not that- 
Your thoughts were quickly proven wrong, when you see she was stupid enough to grab a pan off the stove to whip at him. 
“Aht!” the spanish woman standing a few paces to the right said, quickly grabbing the arm with the pan and twisting it behind her back. “Drop it.” she hissed. 
Carmen looks between the two of them, utterly in shock. “Y-y’were gonna hit me?” He asked her, face twisting in rage. “Fuck you. Fuck you Claire.” He seethed, taking the pan from his employees grasp and tossing it in the sink with a loud clatter. 
“Get the fuck out” you told her, grabbing her from the handle of the woman who’d stopped the assault, shoving her towards the kitchen door and into the front of the restaurant. “Y’re a fuckin crazy bitch.” You laughed dryly, giving her a hard shove for good measure. 
“Oh and who are you” she straightened herself out, pushing her bag up on her shoulder. “Doesn’t matter. Glad to see that Carmy still needs someone to protect him. I’ll gladly give up that spot.” she said, causing you to laugh. 
“Oh my god- you are pathetic. He just spelt it clear as day sweetheart- you are over. O-v-e-r. He doesn’t want you babe! And no, he doesn’t need my protection- I was enjoying dinner and apparently a show until you went batshit bitch.” You snip, plopping back down at your booth. 
She scoffed “he doesn’t want anyone. The only thing he wants - is to remain miserable. Good fucking luck, whoever you are.” She said before stomping out. 
“Yo she was really gonna throw somethin?” Richie asked as he walked over. Thankfully, it was just you, him, and the bartender in the front of the restaurant.
You nod “thankfully she didn’t realize I was there- Carmen would have had a nasty burn, and a concussion.” You said, taking a large sip of your drink. 
Carmen comes out, eyes meeting yours immediately. “Fuck- I- don’t worry y’re meal is comped and don’t…don’t worry about a review, i’m sorry- I-I guess it wasn't in the cards f’r us to be featured on y’r blog... I’m really so sorry… Shes- ah..” he rubs his arm nervously, trying to find the words. 
“A woman scorned” You teased, and he snorts a laugh, nodding a bit.
“Hell hath no fury, right?” He joked, sighing a bit. “It’s uh…it’s my fault I guess…I uh- I should’ve dealt with that…I've been putting it off” he said and you nod a bit.
“You off the clock?” you looked at your phone for the time, 10:07. 
“Shit- fuck- sorry- I’m so sorry- give me like- I was making y’r food…and then-” you shook your head, stopping him.
“No- No…I was uh-Asking to see if you maybe wanted to..have a drink with me? Not-not like…professionally…” you shrugged, stirring your half full cocktail with the bar straw that floated in it. 
“Sure- uh…sure- I’d like that lemme..lemme go change, i’ll be right out” he nodded, heading back into the kitchen.
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haet-sal · 9 months
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if you hold me without hurting me you’ll be the first who ever did//juyeon smut
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tags: juyeon smut, sugar daddy/ age gap au (8 years lol!!), you’re 22, seduction, DRINKING!!, corruption kink, Juyeon asking you if it’s okay A LOT, juyeon calling you ‘innocent’, CHOKING, ROMANCE!!
You meet older rich guy Juyeon at a hotel bar, and the rest is history
“I’ve never been with a stranger.”
“How could you be okay with me doing these things? Aren’t you afraid what I’ll do to you? Do you think about my intentions at all? You’re so easy…”
“You can do anything you want,” you say. “Even ruin me.”
“... I couldn’t live with myself, Y/N, please… I… I still think you’re innocent, so I can’t give in to you. But in all honesty, I want you so bad I could just…” His hand clasped against your jaw, as if he were afraid to touch you.
You kissed him on the lips the only way you knew how to kiss a man. “Can we go? To your room?”
w.c.: 3.8k
You adjust the strap of your slip dress on your shoulders, it just kept falling off. Bereft of any foresight, or perhaps rushing, you didn’t bring any coat or jacket, leaving you with a side-boob out; at least the hotel bar was heated, although the lights were dim; like a dark, damp wolf’s lair you’d walked into.
You’re not really a bar type of person, although you guessed you could make an exception for a place as classy as this—jesus, you thought, how’d doyeon even book this hotel for her birthday party? How much must it even cost on a night?
You tell the bartender the number of your room—0602—and asks that he puts the drinks’ into the room’s tab, hoping that by tomorrow morning they won’t pore over the giant receipt and just pay upfront. You were less… affluent than your friends, to be very honest…
The bar was dark, and the lights lit up a dim green and orange around the seats. You order a fun cocktail, a sweet thing that you could drink all night without getting a buzz, and sit down.
You don’t know why you sat so close to someone, when there were empty seats all around the bar… You didn’t feel like switching now, though, what if the man took offense, that you didn’t want to sit next to him?
You started to chew on the kiwi slice the cocktail came with, and the gentleman beside you puts down the notebook he’s writing in, turning to face you, probably because it’d be rude not to greet at all.
Once he turns his face towards you, though, you get a terrible idea. Maybe the cocktail did make you a little braver, more effective than the taste of sharp stinging in your mouth… “Hello,” you whisper, not to disturb the quaint atmosphere in the bar. You had your purse with you, and you toyed with the faux leather just to fight the nervousness. You nodded at the notebook. “Business?” You had an uncle that did his accounting every night after he was done spending, maybe the guy was that kind of man.
But the man shook his head, and you see that he’s lean—when he turns his body towards you—a thin figure, and broad shoulders, and amazing, beautiful, narrow eyes, with a few crinkles around them when he smiles that you know he has to be somewhat older.
“No,” he says curtly, “no business at all.” He sips his drink, and you see that it’s hard liquor, presented in a no-nonsense, almost completely sombre dark orange shade of liquid.
“Oh.” You turn back to the bar, thinking he didn’t want to speak to you. What business did you even have talking to him—you’re literally here for a goofy party, he’s probably relaxing because he’s swamped with so much work.
But he extends a friendly gesture. “It’s my vocabulary book… I’m learning Spanish, so.”
“People do that on an app these days…”
He chuckled, and you saw that his voice was already quiet and light without even needing to whisper. “Maybe younger people, yes.”
“You can’t be that old.”
“You just look much younger than me,” he says softly.
“What are you drinking?” you ask, and he tears his eyes away from your lips just to look down the bottom of his glass.
“Bourbon.” His eyes are back on your lips again, tinted deep pink with a lip product, thinking you were going to look pretty for the boy classmates, but here you were with an older man… “I am here on business, though,” he says. “But I’m… well, even I get tired sometimes.”
You nodded.
“Can I ask if you’re even allowed to be drinking?”
You laughed, opening your purse and sliding your uni ID down the bar counter, towards his side of the wooden boundary, presenting him with un-fake-able proof.
“Ah, you’re a student… Second year?” He asks, reverting back to korean, dae-hak yi-hak-nyeon? He stared at the card for a while, slowly saying your name as if he was savoring it. “Twenty two,” he said softly, calculating your age.
“It’s a lucky number,” you put in. He’s eyeing your lips, but you’re eyeing his drink—maybe if you drank something that strong, you’d have more courage?
“I almost think I should take care of you. You look like a lost little girl.”
“Twenty-two,” you reminded him, unable to stop your face from making an adorable pout, which he reaches out and touches, as if trying to get you to smile again.
“Aren’t you too cute?” He pauses to swallow. “Like, dangerously cute? What are you doing at this hotel?”
“My friend had a birthday party, so they booked a room to party in, but… I just felt like… I don’t know… not partying? I didn’t know I’d meet someone like you, though…”
Juyeon smiles slightly. “Does the fact that you met me make you feel better about coming out here?”
You nod. “I mean, you’re older, and rich, probably my friends’ dream… they all want a sugar daddy.” Oh, fuck. “I mean! I’m not like… preying on you or anything, not taking advantage of your kindness... Like I wouldn’t… I’m… good? I’m a good girl.”
“Good girl?” He sips his bourbon until all that’s left was ice, and wordlessly flags the bartender down to give him another glass-full. “It’s funny you think I’m the one being taken advantage of. Ah… I really should control myself.”
“Control yourself from…?” You knew, of course, but you wanted to know if you were actually reading his mind correctly right now.
“First, from kissing you.”
You pulled back. “I’d taste like a cocktail…”
“If you worry about that, I wouldn’t do it.” But he still leaned in closer towards you.
You close the gap, kissing him, a hand on his jaw almost so tenderly, better than you’d ever handled one of the boys at your college. Then you giggle. “So I learned the taste of bourbon second-hand through a kiss…”
Juyeon looked almost scandalized, pulling away but just barely. “I can’t believe you did that… You weren’t supposed to kiss me, Y/N, you weren’t supposed to want me…” He grabs the base of your chair and pulls it close until your thigh was touching his, you didn’t even know these chairs at wheels…
“You didn’t like it?” you asked, absolutely concerned you might have to go back to your room with your friends and just…
“I liked it…” he looked pained. “Too much. I can’t resist the way you look at me and the thought of being with you…”
Shyly but seductively, you put a finger on your pink lips, the spot he couldn’t stop staring at. “You’re already thinking of it? Are you thinking of what I’d look like… under you?”
“Are you trying to seduce me now?” You think you feel what that book he was writing in must have felt, to be touched so tenderly and with so much care… He looked enraged, pained, everything… He looked absolutely seduced. “You think I don’t already imagine those things?”
“Bartender?” you asked, raising your hand, but he covers it from being raised.
“Are you trying to drink more?”
“I want to know what kind of buzz you have…”
“You don’t know how to drink. You’re so cute.” He pulls you closer. He’s the cleanest man you’ve ever even met or touched, he smells like expensive cologne… “I really can’t stop myself.” He touched your shoulder, gradually going up to the neck. “I might kiss you again. I don’t know what’s come over me…”
“Am I that sexy right now?” you joked, almost classlessly.
“I could just take you up to my room,” Juyeon whispers. “Would you still want to be a good girl?”
Your dress’s strap falls down the shoulder again, and you fix it, giggling. “Ah, my dress is already coming off!”
He almost growls. “Please… if I go any further with this I’m… I don’t know if this is the correct or right thing to do to you. Don’t do this. Please, you’re innocent.”
“I’m not.” You kiss his neck, even biting the skin, although he doesn’t react. “I’m here for you to devour.”
“You’re just a college girl… I’m an adult. You’re not supposed to want this, please…”
“Why do you think 22 is young?” You giggled. “I can drink, drive, buy condoms…”
“I just… don’t want to be a bad guy…” He pulls away. “We need to stop.”
“Oh…” you sighed. “Can I still go to your room for tonight? My friends are probably high, and I don’t wanna go back to my room.”
“I don’t think you understand, Y/N,” Juyeon says slowly, as if every word were a red-hot warning, “if you come to my room, I’m going to do things. You need to be prepared for this…”
You hesitated. “I’ve never been with a stranger.”
“How could you be okay with me doing these things? Aren’t you afraid what I’ll do to you? Do you think about my intentions at all? You’re so easy…”
“You can do anything you want,” you say. “Even ruin me.”
“... I couldn’t live with myself, Y/N, please… I… I still think you’re innocent, so I can’t give in to you. But in all honesty, I want you so bad I could just…” His hand clasped against your jaw, as if he were afraid to touch you.
You kissed him on the lips the only way you knew how to kiss a man. “Can we go? To your room?”
“You’re going to make me do something I shouldn’t. Do you know what the right thing is here? I… you’re killing me. I can’t stop wanting you.”
You kissed him, and swiftly pulled him down to the elevators, lips attached as you waited for the doors to open. Breathless, you glanced at the buttons… “which floor?”
“12th.” He leans in and pressed you against the wall, whispering: “you’re making me want to do something very bad, little girl.” Your lips don’t touch, you just glance at him through the small distance, teasing him. The elevator stops.
You glanced around. “Woah, wait… aren’t there the suite rooms?”
“Yeah, my room’s right beside here.” You followed him in, and slowly got shell-shocked by the sheer massiveness of the room… Juyeon is loaded. Or his company is loaded. But… oh god. “You’re… this rich…”
“Enough about my room… Look at you.” He touched your dress like he’s trying to control the impulse to rip it.
Your strap fell down your shoulder again, and you giggle. “Should I leave the rest to your imagination?”
He grips your hips, pulling the dress up slightly. “You’re such a tease… this is so wrong. You’re so young.” But he pulls the strap down until both were hanging off your shoulder. “How can this be okay?”
He’d moveed on from your lips, now your chest was his new object, looking hungrily at you. “You just… you seem so innocent…” He touched your thigh, his hand going up between the legs, but stopping before he pushes anything hot and wet. “Fuck. I can’t go through with this and still have my honor… you don’t know what you’re doing and you don’t know what will happen to you if we go any further… Do you really want to be used up for your body? I can’t go through with this…”
Seeing his reluctance, you pulled back, and grab his broad shoulders, as if controlling him, and sit him on the luxurious hotel couch. “Okay, let’s take it slow. Let’s try to take our minds off what we’re going to do…”
“Fine…” he still looked weak, as if he was fighting everything in him from ripping your clothes off. “What now?”
You straddled him now, getting on top of him “Talk to me.”
His hands gripped the sofa at both sides just so he wouldn't do something wrong with your body. “Y/n… what are you doing right now? Aren’t you afraid? You’re making me weak.”
“Just try to talk, okay?” Your fingers unbuttoned his shirt slowly, and you teased him, lingering over his collarbone and ribs. “Tell me about your work? What were you thinking when you met me? Anything…” You started to kiss his ear.
He sighs in surrender, hands groping you now. “I really can’t think straight right now… You look so soft…” He kissed your neck now, and you could feel his teeth under all that softness.
“Yeah? you can’t think? What’s on your mind?”
“Everything… everything about you,” he admitted. “This must feel wrong, right? Showing your body to a man almost a decade older?” He took off his shirt, draping it over the couch.
“Should I stay on top of you like this?” You could feel his cock hard and intruding right under your hip.
“Whatever you like… What do you want to do to me?”
“I want you to pin me down onto the bed… and…”
“What if I made it hurt?” He was carrying you back onto the bed, just to pin you down.
“Do it.”
“Really?” His voice is more breath than words.
Before you nod to affirm, his belt is off and thrown across the room, and his tight suit-pants are down, and he looks down from you, almost godlike, before attaching himself to you, ever single way: teeth in neck, tongue on skin, his hard length directed into your warmth by a stray, careful hand.
He doesn’t talk, almost like he’s basking in the shame. Just the rocking of his hips against yours. There’s panting, and even whimpering from him, like he’s pathetic and you control what he gets to receive, but it’s him that’s inside of you, desperate and leaking. “Please… ah…”
“You’re not going to have any regrets about this, alright? I promise,” he says.
“Of course not… I trust you…”
“You do?” He pants again, and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he holds yours. “I’ve been having a fantasy of making a good girl like you turn into a bad girl, okay?”
“How do you do that?”
“I make her… drool. And beg. And get as thirsty as she can for my cock.”
You simply moan in answer, Juyeon hot and hard against you. How warm you were was driving him insane, made him weak in the core, but he wouldn’t say that out loud… Just through breaths and body language and clandestine cogitation.
“Poor darling,” he panted. “I can’t… I can’t be as rough as I want to, or you’ll regret this. You’ll be crying.”
When you’re both around to come, you get desperate, and the rocking isn’t doing it anymore. Juyeon is the first to get rough, slamming himself into you with a pace unmatched from him before… Suddenly, he decides he couldn’t leave his hands idle anymore, bringing them to your neck and choking you. It feels good, as you leave the rest of your strength in your legs, which wrap around his hips until you come.
You’re sniffling as you recover.
“Y/n, are you crying?” He held you quietly. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s just that it felt so, so good,” you say with a smile. “I get… I don’t know, teary, when it’s that good. You were good. You were kind.”
“Which part was I good to you…” he groaned. “I can’t believe you still want me.”
“Well…” you reached over and touched his hands, which were about three sizes bigger than yours. “Maybe you are too big for me… But you’re still a perfect fit.”
He opened his arms. “Sleep? I promise in the morning we can sort it out…”
You switched the lights off, crawling into bed. “Ah… messy…”
“‘S okay,” he hummed.
.
His cat-like eyes were watching you as you woke up, and you immediately touch him, wrapping yourself around his shoulders. “Good morning.”
“Morning… I can’t believe you’re not mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad at you?”
“Because…” he brushed away your hair from your neck, revealing a hand mark, red but not purplish like a bruise.You couldn’t see it, but seeing the regret in his eyes was enough. “... because of this.”
You kiss him in reply to tell him you weren’t mad, but he quickly pulls away.
“Do you work part time?”
“Yeah, but on nights.”
He chuckled. “Classic night owl… It’s Saturday, and my client wants to meet in the afternoon. I have something planned for us, if you wouldn’t object?”
You nod slowly. “... What…?”
“You’ll see.” Blithely, he covered your naked body with more blanket, and fished out a giant fluffy bathrobe from the shelves for you to wear.
You giggled. “Don’t you want to… continue, if your plans aren’t taking place any time soon?”
“Don’t. Be. Naughty.” He chided slowly as he typed away an email in his phone. “They’ll be here soon.”
“They?!” You’re lucky you dressed in time, because the door bell rang, and as Juyeon told them to come in, staff, dressed in hotel uniform-blank-and-white suits, brought in a whole rack of clothes, almost too many, jammed in a small pole on expensive ivory hangers. “Juyeon,” you murmur quietly, “what is this?”
“Shush.” With a kiss on your lips, he lifted you up to your feet. “I thought I’d buy you back what I ripped from you last night,” he says, referring to your panties… and the broken zipper of your slip dress. Which, honestly, seeing all these new dresses, was a horrible fit from you, plus the strap kept falling off, although that did help you seduce someone.
Juyeon finished his coffee sporadically glancing at you with the staff, who fitted you in for the clothes right away, everything you pointed at and wanted to try. Although everything was heavenly nice, you just picked out two outfits in the end: a dress, and a matching skirt and blouse, thanking the staff who folded it for you.
“Is that all?” Juyeon frowned. “You didn’t like the others?”
“No, I liked it! I just… it’s too much.”
“If you liked it, you can have the entire collection.”
“NO!” you gasped, too overwhelmed to even smile. “I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness, and… I have no place wearing things that expensive.”
“Of course you have a place doing that,” Juyeon chided absentmindedly. “But if these dresses weren’t to your liking, I’ll just get you more from the show.”
“... Show?” you started slowly.
“That’s what I’m here for—I have to make an appearance. For the fall/winter season…” He kissed your temple, then headed off to get dressed in his suit. “Don’t worry about it too much.”
You glanced over at the bedside table, where he had laid out two watches that he chose not to wear for the day, turning them over in your hands.
They’re expensive. Heavy. Crystal-studded.
What kind of guy did you just sleep with?
.
After excusing yourself but getting his number (to all three of his phones, even, and he told you to contact his assistant if you wanted), you headed back to the hotel room with your friends, where they were all hungover or still zonked out.
You had last night’s dress folded in a bag, and was wearing Chanel, which your friends noticed immediately, Doyeon coming over to you asking what the hell happened…
You’d never been asked ‘what happened’ without it being bad.
“I think I met a sugar daddy,” you say.
“Here?!”
“He has three Rolexes and he bought me an entire rack of clothes.”
.
You’d meant to call Juyeon after your part time shift, but after you finished, you fished around your bag for the contact numbers and emails he gave you, when you found the paper with the ink bled through from the mineral water you had that spilled, that simply couldn’t be salvaged. All that’s left was his work email, which you, assuredly, would never be able to contact without being awkward…
Imagine being his assistant, going through work emails, and seeing one with the subject ‘RE: so about that night…’ no way, she’d just delete your message.
You regretted not asking him when he was leaving the hotel, hoping he’d at least remembered your existence and left something for you to find him by…
When you went back to the hotel—and the security almost didn’t let you in, being that you had no business—his room had been cleared out and he was already on a plane. You just slowly dejectedly walked back to the lobby emptyhanded, missing the way his giant hand felt intertwined with yours.
“Did he leave any messages for me?” you asked slowly.
“Depends, what is your name?”
You gingerly slowly gave out your name, and the receptionist shook her head. You sighed. Well… it’s definitely not that kind of story, where you land a prince charming… it was just one night. You should be happy, right?
.
It’s two months after, that your friends make you contact him. They kept talking about how real sugar daddies should never be let go, when really, you didn’t care that he bought you chanel and all those other brands you couldn’t even fit in your mouth to speak… you’d have fallen for him even if he was faking the whole wealth thing…
Which he wasn’t, as you found out after googling his company and seeing the name of his assistant.
You typed in a long email explaining it to his assistant, hoping not everyone had access to this email, making it easy to find in his inbox.
Would he check it personally? You sighed.
Doyeon wouldn't stop talking about it, ever since you met Juyeon. Always "why do YOU get to meet a sugar daddy? At MY party?" Although you thought maybe your romance dreams were well and over once the contact card bled through your bag.
The truth was, you missed juyeon… a lot… endlessly, and the thought that he was just a one-time-brush-past scared you.
You fell asleep for a nap, and when you woke up, you had a new email. It was dark, and your designer clothes hung drying out after a wash. You rub your eyes and check it in a hurry—it’s 2 a.m. in korea, although who knows where he could be traveling to?
But what you found wasn’t automated, or from his assistant, and the words were his.
Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for your message?
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sgiandubh · 3 months
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So in other words, you agree, Sam and Cait are not very good actors as exemplified by the scene being them and not Beauchamp and Fraser. On that, agreed. She might be a C actor, he's definitely a D
Dear Beauchamp and Fraser Anon,
I suspect you might be a returning one, by the way, hoping to catch me unprepared with a very cheap sophism. Check this concept on Wikipedia if you wish, but I will give you my definition: manipulated or derailed logic, i.e. formally sustainable, but in reality just a fallacy; or, if you prefer, a bunch of crap, just for the sake of it. Also, it would be wise not to try these cheap tricks on someone trained to work with words and doing so every single day: you might find no satisfaction, ultimately.
Fun fact: I don't agree with any single word you just wrote. Sam and Cait are very good and gifted actors. Both of them. They did wonders with a very inconsistent script and under barbaric public pressure. What dragged you in here, Anon? Mrs. Gabaldon's florid, even luxuriant prose? What kept you in here, Anon? Blood and sperm and rape galore? I should wish you were honest, at least for once in your life, and let your answer be 'not really'.
What I meant by that phrase was something very simple: the actors' life experience deeply informing and sublimating their performance. If you think real and creative lives are strictly separate affairs in any intellectual endeavor, then you are probably completely unfamiliar with anything remotely related to writing, singing, playing (an instrument), acting, composing or painting. All these are akin to magic and all of the above are a summoning of sorts: ask any 'content creator', you will probably get a very similar answer. In Cait and Sam's case, their real life story nurtures and elevates their acting, despite people like you.
I am not an actor myself, but a long time ago it was acting that liberated me and taught me to not be afraid of anything. I did not make a living out of it, but I will always have the tools making me able to access that very special energy, any time I should need it. So, I can only offer you an educated opinion of These Two:
C is a very, very good actress. She is classy, sophisticated and knows instinctively how to occupy a stage or a set. She worked and progressed a LOT since Season 1, when it took me a good while to warm up to her. Add to this what I think is arresting beauty. Not really a C-level, in my book.
S is a wonderfully gifted actor who, unlike C, does not have any idea of this potential and, to be honest, gives the impression to even not care about it. He singlehandedly dominated some of the most difficult moments of the series (that unwatchable Wentworth episode comes to mind). His mastery of the Stanislavski and Lecoq methods and techniques is excellent. He is likeable, personable and has an innate emotional intelligence, helping him navigate and compensate the weaknesses of (yes, I insist!) an often insufficient script. I have already written about it, with arguments, when I found some very interesting parallels between The Fiery Cross episode and Laurence Olivier's performance in Shakespeare's Henry V. I will say it again: this guy has been grossly miscast, spare for JAMMF.
Perhaps you are unfamiliar with the whole preparation and rehearsal process when producing a movie or a series or a theatre show. These people don't just learn their lines by heart and turn up for readings and rehearsals. They also read and watch a lot of things that could help them build better, more credible characters. But what makes the sometimes very subtle difference between a decent performance and a stellar one is the amount of themselves they allow inside their acting. And in this respect, I think Sam and Cait have been very lucky, in what is a very clear case of Art (instinctively) imitating Life.
I doubt this answered your question and to be honest, I don't care.
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