#Pi Wallet

[aykizcrypto]

Pi Coin (PI) Nears Breakout — Bulls Eye Major Upside Move

Pi Coin (PI) is approaching a significant breakout, with technical indicators pointing to an imminent price surge. As the asset consolidates within a symmetrical triangle, bullish momentum continues to build, signaling potential gains for traders.

With PiWallet’s upcoming token launch in March and its beta release in April, the Pi wNetwork ecosystem is set to expand further, strengthening its DeFi and Web3 capabilities.

PI Technical Analysis — Symmetrical Triangle Breakout Ahead?

Key Takeaways:

✅ Breakout Nearing: Pi Coin consolidates within a symmetrical triangle, approaching the apex. ✅ Bullish Wave Structure: Elliott Wave analysis suggests an imminent upward continuation. ✅ Fibonacci Targets: Key resistance levels indicate potential for an extended rally.

Pi Coin’s 1-hour and 15-minute charts indicate the formation of a bullish impulse wave, signaling potential upside. RSI levels remain neutral, suggesting neither overbought nor oversold conditions, while Fibonacci extensions highlight key price targets.

📈 PI Price Analysis

Pi Coin’s symmetrical triangle pattern follows an extended impulsive wave, which suggests that the asset is preparing for the next leg up in its cycle.

🔹 Support Levels: Holding above $1.46 remains crucial for maintaining bullish momentum. 🔹 Resistance Levels: PI must break $1.64 first before targeting $1.79 — $1.87. 🔹 Breakout Probability: Strong buying pressure and PiWallet’s upcoming ecosystem expansion could support sustained bullish movement.

PIUSD

PiWallet Expansion & PiWT Token Launch

PiWallet, the first Web3 wallet on Pi Blockchain, is set to launch its beta version in April, introducing key features like:

✨ Portfolio Management ✨ DApps Browser ✨ Swap DEX ✨ DeFi Staking & Yield Farming

Additionally, PiWallet’s native token, PiWT, is launching in March on BSC before migrating to the Pi Network. This token will power staking, rewards, and liquidity within the PiWallet ecosystem, enhancing Pi Network’s growing DeFi infrastructure.

Final Thoughts — What’s Next for PI?

✅ Technical indicators favor a breakout above $1.64. ✅ Upcoming PiWallet and PiWT token launches add fundamental support. ✅ Holding above $1.50 is critical for sustained bullish momentum.

With Pi Coin nearing a breakout and PiWallet expanding its ecosystem, the next few weeks will be pivotal in shaping the future of Pi Network’s DeFi landscape.

📢 Stay tuned for updates on Pi Coin’s price action and PiWallet’s launch! 🚀

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Filled (Dean Winchester x female reader)

Dean and you are out of condoms, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to give in to temptation.

Read it on AO3

My 2024 Kinktober series

18+. 1.3k words. Unprotected sex. Breeding kink. Pies (of the cream variety)

It’s damn stupid and you know you shouldn’t do it, at least that’s what your brain is telling you, but your brain isn’t in the driver’s seat right now. How could it be, after Dean has made you come not once, not twice, but thrice with his fingers and mouth.

You’re about ready to pass on to the great hereafter, but still somehow, inexplicably, you have the overwhelming need to feel Dean inside you. You agreed that you wouldn’t, agreed that you would simply get each other off, but you don’t think you’ll last another five seconds without outright begging him to fuck you.

It’s this damn case, that has you miles and miles away from the next town. You packed everything, food, clothes, goddamn books that Dean hasn’t taken a single peak at, but not condoms, because you thought you’d be too busy to need them. Dean disagreed from the get-go, but you thought the small stash he always carries in his wallet would be enough.

You’re on day five, solved the case on day two and ran out of condoms on day three. It’s another day until you’re set to be picked up by Sam, and you’ve been getting each other off for almost all of that time since, without Dean entering you with anything but his fingers and tongue. But yeah, you’re not sure how much longer you have the self-control for that to be enough.

“You can just pull out,” you mutter against Dean’s cheek, while his hard cock is pressed against the outside of your thigh and you run your hand over him. Dean’s eyes are closed, and he’s frowning a little, looking pretty as a picture.

“Too risky. Can’t believe I paid more attention in sex ed than you did,” he says, voice a little cracked and you grin, snuggle closer to him.

“Please, Dean, I want to feel you,” you say, and he groans.

“Darlin’,” he says, tone a little warning but it’s tough to be authoritative with him leaking against your thigh.

“Come on, a girl can’t live on come alone,” you say, voice slightly petulant, referring to the egregious amount of blowjobs you’ve given him in the last 48 hours. Dean huffs, then opens his eyes, looking into yours only a few inches from him.

“Fuck it,” he says and rolls you over on your back, gets on top of you, making you squeak. He kisses you, hard and needy, and then he’s pushing your legs apart. He presses against you, your thighs tensing from how sensitive you are, and when he notices he goes slower.

That means you get to watch his face, get to see every detail of his expression as he enters you bare for the first time.

“Holy shit,” he says and then looks down at where your bodies are meeting. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

You want to say something about how cussing like that will send him to hell, again, but you can’t, because he’s right. It’s different and it’s better and it’s everything you’ve been dreaming of. You raise your head so that your forehead meets his as you whimper, the sheer feeling of his skin directly against your most sensitive parts overwhelming.

You look at Dean’s lips as he slowly continues pushing into you, then pulls out almost all the way again, before pushing back in until you can feel his pelvis pressed against you. You lift one leg up high and Dean hooks it against his side, allowing him to go deeper.

“Oh God, you feel so amazing,” you stutter, and Dean barely manages to nod.

“Don’t know how long I can keep this up,” he says, voice cracking. “You feel too damn good, gonna come in no time.” He picks up his pace a little, and you sling your free leg around him instead of answering, pull him closer.

“You shouldn’t do that,” he says, voice warning, and you know he’s not far off.

“Come inside me, Dean,” you whisper, and his eyes go wide for a second. “Don’t care, I just want to feel you, feel your come inside me.”

“Fuck,” Dean groans, and instead of pulling away, he goes faster, making your head drop back and moan his name.

“Want me to fill you up, is that it?” he asks, and his words send such an intense flash of arousal through you that you clench down on him. Dean groans, but he isn’t done with whatever magical dirty talk he has for you. “You want me to get you nice and knocked up?”

You don’t, not really, but the way he is saying it, the risk and the primality of it make you desperately pull at him.

“Yes,” you huff, moving your hips to meet Dean’s movements, your leg still keeping him close to you. “Yes, oh God, yes, Dean!”

It’s not clear if he expected what he’s saying to have that kind of effect on you, but he looks damn happy with the results. His hips move faster, and with one hand he cups your face, steadying you so that you can’t turn away from him.

“You’d look so beautiful with my babies inside you,” he almost groans and you wrap your arm around his neck, pull him close.

“Fuck, Dean, just—don’t… stop!” is all you can say before you are coming, your lower body bucking up, high pitched whines leaving you.

Dean keeps thrusting into you, uncoordinated now and then he stills, pressing his face against yours as he pumps his come into you. You can actually feel the spread of warmth and it’s the goddamn nicest thing in the world.

Dean’s head falls forward, and he rests on your shoulder, grinding into you a few more times to ride out his high, and it makes his spendings seep out of you, and that’s a sensation you’re not likely to forget anytime soon. He gives one more groan, and then both of you are quiet. You absent-mindedly run your fingers through the short hair at the back of his head.

After a few seconds, Dean needs to pull out and roll off you and you gasp as you feel more of what he left you with leaks out of you. It makes Dean look down at you, and he raises his eyebrows.

He pushes himself up a little, towards you again. Then, for the grand finale, he takes his still hard cock in his hand, crowds in close to you and runs its head against your entrance to collect what has run out of you. Then he pushes back into you again. You whimper at the feeling, the sensitivity, but also at the warmth.

“Oh fuck,” you whine.

“That… is very hot,” he says, and looks back up at your face when you chuckle.

“Yeah?” you ask, voice a little broken. “How hot is it going to be when we have to ask Sam to get me the morning-after pill before he comes here tomorrow?” Dean chuckles, drops his head down. He pulls out of you again, the emptiness disappointing, but then he opens his arm for you to move in, lay your head against his chest.

“I’m sure Sammy will love that,” he says, and you grin. Dean’s hand lands on your shoulder, and he caresses it for a while, before turning his head towards you, his mouth close to your ear.

“Or we risk it?” he whispers to you. “Could be fun.”

You grab for a nearby pillow and swing at his face. Dean raises his hand in time but it makes him laugh.

“You are a damn fool, Dean Winchester,” you say and Dean pulls you close, pins your arms and throws a leg over you.

“Just saying,” he says as you snuggle against him. “I meant what I said. You would look hot pregnant.”

[reallyromealone]

Please a part 2 to Surprise! You're a dad! Rindo x reader.

Title: surprise you're a dad!

Chapter: 2

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Haitani brothers

Fic type: fluff, omegaverse

Pairings: Rindō Haitani x reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, mpreg, birthing, male giving birth, Omega male reader

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Did you know?

The brother of your baby daddy was somehow more persistent than the actual baby daddy?

Because apparently that was a thing!

Ran bad been persistent despite his brother keeping his distance, popping up randomly to spend apparent quality time with his 'brother-inlaw' and following him around like a lost puppy "do you have ultrasound photos?" He asked curiously as he sat in (name)s little house, Rindō may have not wanted to take a role in the babies life but Ran did.

Ran was deeply obsessed with family, the brothers having grown up without their parents and raised primarily by their grandfather whom they loved dearly "you know... You don't have to do this" (name) whispered, it felt nice to have support even if they were probably doing it out of guilt of their siblings negligence "I know Rindō doesn't think the pup is his and I know you're probably doing it from pi--" "did I ever say I was doing it from pity?" Ran cut the Omega off seriously "I'm not here for pity purposes, that's pathetic of me to do and I stated why I'm here."

The Alpha pointed to the others belly "I'm here for that little pup in your belly and by extension you, I know that kids a Haitani, you think I haven't done digging on you Mr Dean's list? Besides you reak of Rindō" he said simply and (name)s eyes watered, he had been alone for months and having his pups uncle support him made his heart melt "be this pups god father" he said simply and Ran smiled softly, already feeling a soft spot for the spikey omega "I'll make sure that kids cared for"

For the past month and a half, Ran had been a good support while Rindō seethed, he was unsure how to handle the fact he could be a father and outright refusing the omegas claims even if he didn't seek him out.

What if he was waiting to just drop the kid on him or collect child support when the kid was older! Guilt him with a baby!

He wasn't fucking having it.

And he was pissed that his brother would spend money on the Omega and all that shit, ignoring his inner instincts to be near the Omega who had his claim bite and dive harder into work to avoid dealing with the situation.

It wasn't until the dead of night when Rindō went into a convenience store to grab a drink, finding a particularly annoying job as Ran and kakucho waIted outside on their bikes "your total is 2.48, cash or card?" Rindō looked up from his phone to see (name) sitting there bored, staring at him with disinterest s his hand rested o his stomach "why the fuck are you here?" He snapped and (name) rolled his eyes "working? What else would I be doing, hosting the met?"

"It's like two am! Youre an Omega!"

"I'm doing what I must to care for my pup, I don't need your concern" he waved Rindō off, already annoyed and the other rolled his eyes "clearly since you're taking handouts from ran" that struck a chord with (name) who stood up angrily "I haven't accepted shit from him, he comes over to see ultrasound photos and bother me for tea!" The Omega raged "I am not some gold digging Omega looking for a wallet, I was fine before this and I don't need you making wild accusations when I wasn't even seeking you out" (name) was not afraid to go toe to toe with the other, close to baring his fangs the sound of the doors chime went off "Yo Rinny, Kakuchos getting t...ired" ran looked at the angry Omega and his brother and sighed "Rindō can you behave for once? Sorry my brother was an iPad baby" Rindō looked betrayed at his brother who in turn looked at him "I think we need a family sit down" Rindō seethed out and Rindō wanted to pull his hair out.

"Sorry you were dragged here" (name) said to the Kanto Manji man who he learned was named kakucho, offering him tea as they sat in (name)s house, Ran buying the Omega new furniture despite the omegas protests "the fuck is even happening?'" the Haitani brothers were arguing in the backyard as (name) sighed "Rindō is the father to my pup, I don't want him to be in my pups life and he doesn't want to be in the pups life but is convinced I want to baby trap him despite me repeatedly telling him I don't want him in my life" the Omega said calmly and at a semi fast pace "Ran is hell-bent on being the uncle to his niece and keeps buying me things despite me not needing it and I just want to raise my child and not deal with any of this" kakucho was shocked at this as he looked at (name) who looked done.

"Wow"

"Yup"

"Rindō? Really?"

"Yeah..."

"Why don't you want him in the kids life?" Kakucho asked and (name) sighed "you know what job you have, what you do every day and what you're becoming... Could you imagine a child being mixed in that?" He looked serious as he stared at kakucho who didn't hesitate to answer "it would put a target on them" "exactly, my daughter would be targeted immediately... I just want to raise my kid in peace"

"Would you ever let him be in his kids life?"

"If he wanted sure but he doesn't and I'm not keen on someone who blames Soley me for something that takes two to tango" he grumbled and kakucho snorted "well I'm glad the kid has an uncle at least"

"Ran will be a good uncle, he's already obsessed with his niece" (name) joked as the Haitani brothers walked in bruised and quiet "Rindō what do we say"

"Sorry for being an asshole"

"And?"

"I am now aware you have no interest in baby trapping me for money" he grunted angrily and (name) rolled his eyes "glad you joined the party" (name) huffed as he sipped his tea "again sorry you had to be dragged into this" he said to kakucho who was fairly surprised at how calm the other was, being in the same room as some of the most dangerous men in Japan.

"This was surprisingly pleasant despite it all" he said back as (name) tried to get up to walk to the door, taking a moment before getting up triumphantly "thank you again for the tea"

"Of course, drive safe"

"I won't!"

"He's pleasant" (name) said simply as kakucho drove off and the Haitani brothers were sitting on the couch, (name) sitting on the comfy chair as they fell into silence "if you ever decide... That you want to be in this kids life, you're welcome to- don't worry you don't have to pay anything but if you ever decide you're welcome" an olive branch, Ran was already a big part in the pups life and he wanted Rindō to have the option if he wanted.

"I'll consider it when we do a paternity test"

"We can absolutely do one and I can't wait to tell you to pound sand when it comes back a match" (name) said calmly and Rindō glared and Ran sighed, these two were oil in water.

How did they even get far enough to mate?

Beyond him.

It would be six weeks later that (name) went into labor, terrified of being alone as a nurse comforted him as he had a contraction "I'm here for my niece" Ran said calmly, hair cut and in a suit and sunglasses. Thankfully that new tattoo he got covered by makeup as he plopped beside his almost brother in law "oh and you" he teased as (name) glared "not- fuck!- the time right now!"

Five hours it took for (name) to birth a beautiful baby girl, the first thing they noticed was her face, she had (name)s hair and skin but... She looked like Rindō even as a newborn "well we may not need that paternity test" Ran joked and (name) wanted to sleep.

But they did a paternity test and surprise surprise!

Rindō was a dad.

And ran watched as Rindō sat shocked "was there not a thought in your head that you could be the father of that child? You wanted (name) enough to claim him but so easily believed he was screwing other guys"

"I-i just..."

"Do you want to be in your daughter's life?" Ran asked genuinely and Rindō nodded slowly, head in hands "you for some ass kissing, he's not gonna trust you one bit"

"Fuuuuck"

"That's a weird way of apologizing"

[angelesca]

over and over, you read the sign outside a small agency, rolling the name in your head and flipping it up and down: teyvat's sleuth operatives, sleuth operatives... sounds tacky and lame...

it is only when a brown-haired someone approaches you, that your doubts are erased. their uniform neat, mastering the archetype of a professional private investigator, amber eyes unexpecting your early arrival. “you must be the new recruit, why don’t you come inside?”

edit: i think my tumblr is finally working again, hopefully this post works(-ω-、) w.c. ~3.5k / content: modern au! private investigators (PI) au! [not canon, slight ooc?] bulletpoints and scenarios, writing out of my arse again, lil' crack, another gang of idiots, total braincells: 8.88 (a high score!!), surprisingly they co-exist pretty well, zhongli doesn't know what a waffle maker is, you and childe watch a traumatic talent show, alhaitham's love lang is bickering with you, and wrio has a depressing backstory👍, tldr; working with 4 very fun guys / boss!zhongli / rival!childe / childhood friend!alhaitham / colleague!wriothesley / x gnreader

𝐳𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 as your boss!

✦ oldest member, worked in the profession for many years. however, when you ask about that, he is suspiciously evasive. zhongli seems to have lived a long life, though his appearance does not tell it

✦ out of touch with the new generation and technology. asks alhaitham to fix his computer and the kettle (bro just needed to plug it in) or asks you what the newest trendy slang means. it is a wonder how he manages the workplace

✦ tea buddies with wriothesley. hosts tea parties in the local retirement home to discuss and rate tea (power scaling tea real). there's enough boxes to last a lifetime in the breakroom. oh, zhongli is pointing at the clock. it’s… tea time… again

✦ talks your ear off about philosophical questions such as what happens after death, or whether a hotdog is a sandwich

✦ you and childe share a joint role as zhongli’s personal wallet. as to what your boss spends his paycheck on… maybe the countless snacks he leaves at your desk. and tea. more tea. poosssiibly those trinkets he has gifted you too

✦ glasses wearer. appears when zhongli is in deep concentration, due to an unexpected influx of cases so he's staring at the computer often, or during an intense reading session

ᯓ★

you flick through the papers detailing the information you recorded from your client. you and zhongli are out on a scouting mission to obtain clues that could point the case in the right direction. “are you listening?”

“mhm,” zhongli claims, but you can see your words are flowing in one ear and out the other with the way he is plucking free food samples as if they were flowers, bunched together in his hand like a bouquet, offered to him by the fawning ladies at the market stalls. the foreboding premonition of another unproductive day is brimming to the surface.

“where should we start?” you clear your throat, keeping the task on track.

“we should entertain any threads and trace it back, even if it proves to be a dead end. there is no such thing as a bad clue,” zhongli pauses in front of a shop. “for starters, what’s this?”

you raise an eyebrow. “a waffle maker.”

“interesting. what about this?”

“a robot vacuum cleaner. would be good for the office.”

“indeed,” zhongli’s eyes shift. “and this? such a profound colour, this corrosive yellow that erodes my vision is quite unpleasant. could it be…? is this a weapon of mass destruction?”

“zhongli, sir, that’s a banana.“ you shake your head. “is this important?”

zhongli nods. “could be. is it really a banana? a true investigator must question even the simplest of theories.” he points a finger at your pocket. “and this?”

“... that’s my wallet.” 

zhongli has a penchant for being attracted to your money, if he can trace the imprint of your wallet against your pocket. 

zhongli nods, closing his eyes. “a sacred item indeed,” he opens one eye which looks at you expectantly. “i suspect you have quite a formidable sum of mora on your person. and mora is an imperative factor that may save the day, or destroy the world. after all, we still do not know if the banana is deceiving us in its testimony, hm?” 

you give up, handing the money over to the shopkeeper.

his philosophy remains a cryptic language to you. perhaps it’s the gap in experience that makes it hard to connect a bridge to whatever planet zhongli lives on, a divide in universes between you, a disciple, and a master. sometimes, you do believe that there’s a rip in time and space with how zhongli’s senses lag behind as if stuck in the past.

you hand one over to your side. “here—huh?” where did he go?

one look behind you and you find zhongli by a lamp post. a young girl, scratching the ground with a sharp branch with a pout, gazes at zhongli. “who are you?”

zhongli slowly crouches down. “someone who listens to everyone’s troubles. would you mind telling me yours?”

no response. then, a small stomach growls.

zhongli motions at you. immediately, you walk over. “may i take one of the bananas?” you hand him one. “why don’t you take this?”

despite her embarrassed expression, the girl grabs it. she hesitates. “... mama, gone.”

your lips part in realisation.

“come now, we’ll help find your parents.” zhongli offers a hand but the girl extends his invitation, taking his whole arm instead, hugging it. he chuckles, picking her up, her arms naturally cradling his neck as if he is family.

you observe the warm scene, smiling. “you’d make a pretty good parent.” 

zhongli watches you, quiet for a moment. “why don't we raise one together?”

“oh, i’m not—”

“alhaitham can be the teacher; wriothesley will do the cleaning. i can do the cooking, and childe can do all the shopping. you can play the toys with the child.”

“ah. of course,” teyvat’s sleuth operatives is one big family, after all. you have to ask, “also, that banana, how did you know to buy it?”

“well, who knows?” zhongli pats the girl’s back, helping her fall asleep. there’s a glint in his eyes when he looks at you, asking you to work out the mystery. to chase after the clues he left.

another cryptic answer. the master really does live in another world—one that you want to keep learning about.

𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 as your rival!

✦ works for the rival agency which, unfortunately, is much more popular. when watching cat videos, their adverts often pop up with childe’s annoying face plastered on it, winking at you

✦ tags along when you are on a case. doesn’t he have anything else to do? at least he buys your fav drink from the vending machines. although he trails around you like baggage, you hate to say that he is good at what he does.

✦ … a bit too good at his job. you’ve spotted him slinking into dark alleys occasionally. what’s he doing there? one day you will know.

✦ trained under zhongli before. therefore, he is lowkey in competition with you. any task is met with the following question: who’s the better apprentice? so far, the score is even, but you’ll get him next time

✦ never enters your agency through the front door. opts to crawl in through the window (no idea why, maybe it's the challenge). comes bearing gifts such as expensive fruit baskets, bouquets, and medicinal roots like ginseng. you’d think he’s meeting his in-laws or something. rare, but may bring his younger brother teucer as well. on these days, teyvat’s sleuth operatives becomes half private agency and half daycare. 

✦ for uniform, the red shirt from his birthday art is nice. maybe a leather jacket that hangs on the shoulder. wears accessories: earrings, rings, bracelets, watches, gloves. bro is something of a fashion icon, tbf he’s rich so might as well

ᯓ★

desolation unwraps itself before you, beckoning its finger at you to sink into the drab swamps. you saw a tuft of ginger hair disappear into this alley, submerged by its fog. it is inevitable; you need to know the truth behind the mystery to quell the ‘investigator’ in you. 

as soon as you think that, your face hits against, according to your common sense, a wall—if the wall defined was actually an amalgamation of flesh and muscle. 

“need our help?” 

a voice irritates your ears. you frown, looking up at the culprit. “you can’t steal our catchphrase like that, childe.” 

childe—your rival, your nemesis, the guy who childishly filled a ketchup bottle with strawberry jam so that he could chug it in front of you, without flinching, solely to disgust you, and counted it as a victory—that childe, shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly.

“boss, who’s dat?” a voice calls from the darkness.

your ears perk up. boss? childe? a responsible leader? no way. you push childe aside. “... who are you guys?”

a whole lot of people are uncomfortably staring at you. “us?” one man stands out from the crowd. “the fatui, duh. have ya not heard of us, newbie?” the man proudly puffs his chest out.

childe rubs his forehead. “you doofus.”

bells were ringing in your head, red alarms were sounding. “the fatui? aren’t you guys wanted?”

before you can reach for your phone, childe catches your hand. “don’t,” his tone is rigid. it takes you by surprise. “look,” childe sighs. “they’re not bad people, promise.” he lets go.

a fatui agent is dancing. “yup, we have many talents, like stealing lunch money.” that is literally illegal. “say, why don’t we host a talent show?”

“oooooh!!” a chorus of easily amused delight.

“me! me!” a burly man wearing a tank top and shorts, holds up a jar of hotdogs. he twists open the lid.

you and childe exchange glances. the next sequence of events you witness are really unfortunate. “oh– please don’t shove that up your– well, okay then.” the sky looks especially wonderful today.

these guys should be in prison after all. 

“ahaha, okay, okay,” childe gestures with his hands, asking everyone to quiet down. “alas, this should be enough–”

“but i can break into people’s houses without triggering the alarm system!”

“i can use my anemo vision to amplify my fart!”

“aha…” the light in childe’s face falters. suddenly, he grabs your hand. “run!”

“—!” in an instant, your legs suddenly burst into strides, finding the right pace to keep up with childe. “where are we going?!”

“anywhere! anywhere is good!” under the sky, the breeze carries his airy laughter. in his eyes, the blue sea parts, a brightness coruscating on its horizon. it is refreshing, brilliant, childish. and vulnerable. 

you can’t help getting carried along by the waves.

.

“i should report you… for almost getting me killed by an anemo-amplified fart,” hands on your knees, the words struggle out of your mouth.

“sorry about that, they’re just really friendly.” he laughs. you notice, the way childe expresses himself towards the fatui, it is a delicate artistry woven with heartfelt tenderness. it’s the same fragileness as when he talks about his family and home. “how about i buy you a drink?” 

you contemplate his offer. after taking a few more breaths, you stand up. “even though i know you meddle with the fatui? how does a vending machine drink suffice?” childe tilts his head, encouraging you to speak. “for a week straight at least. there’s a new cafe opening, but the prices are too steep for my wallet.”

“okay, okay,” his gentle, tender voice extends to you, lifted by a smile. the blue sea parts, and behind it is childe, offering you a place in his home. “you win this time.”

𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐦 as your childhood friend!

✦ more like estranged childhood friend. you left teyvat at a young age, leaving your childhood friend, alhaitham, behind. you only returned recently, surprised to find that little alhaitham grew up well 

✦ does not concern himself with anything that doesn't yield results, keeps conversations succinct, conveying what needs to be said for the job with as little words as possible. only interjects if something intrigues him, or when anyone makes a clueless comment that needs correcting

✦ favours are not regarded well. one time, you asked him to grab you some coffee if he was going out for lunch break. alhaitham sighed, listing the side effects of overconsumption on caffeine and how a sufficient amount of sleep will do you better. although, when you came back to the office after an outing, you found a mysterious cup of coffee on your desk. must be the wind

✦ dislikes outputting energy where it’s not needed. when finished with his tasks, he will head to the breakroom or the corner with the bookshelf to relax until zhongli’s next order. rarely seen at his desk

✦ went to uni for a comp sci degree but it wasn't challenging enough. dropped out, but zhongli, a guest lecturer, managed to recruit him after witnessing his talent. has rejected prestigious titles and positions in favour of a peaceful life. but with you in the picture, he wonders how long this peace would last

✦ wears strapped pouches and harnesses… around the chest... and biceps... straps around the thighs... (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) for utility ofc. equipped with useful items for the job, like a gps tracker, voice recorders, spy cameras, and his music player. 

ᯓ★

“can you afford to be slacking off right now?” the silence breaks, and you are forced to speak.

“i’m not.” you quickly glance at the time on your screen. “besides, i should start heading home before the last train runs—”

“the last train has already gone.”

“... great.” you sigh. “how come you didn’t tell me earlier?”

“the sharp possibility that you’d insist on finishing your work is comparable to chasing after a dead end, and ultimately, a waste of time.”

a trained oracle, predicting every branching future based on your rooted disposition. it is difficult to debate against that which has inputted all your details, computing every possible output.

you rest your chin on your palm. “what are you even doing here? shouldn’t you be getting your healthy eight hours of sleep?” 

“and in the time that has spanned since you’ve sat at your desk, shouldn’t you be done already?”

you object, “you can’t deflect me with a question.”

“which principle asserts otherwise? i can.”

“you can’t.”

“can.”

“can’t.”

“can–”

you sigh frustratedly, knowing that you’re talking to a wall. throw your words at it and it bounces right back, a ball hitting at you squarely. 

with purpose, you blurt out, “little haitham was so much cuter, you used to follow me everywhere.”

and finally, alhaitham looks at you for the first time today. and for the first time today, you get a good look at him too. his posture manages to be effortlessly upright, not a lick of exhaustion burdened on his face.

“why are you bringing that up?” alhaitham returns to his monitor.

the buzzing of the ceiling light fills the silence. you blink. once. “we promised to the stars that we’d be the best detective duo in teyvat.” the mechanical clicking of keyboards clogs your ears. blink. you tug at the cuffs of your sleeve. “to solve all the mysteries, crimes, and beat up the bad people hiding in the world.” 

sounds of the mouse clicking. a pause builds. alhaitham glances at you. “and? we’re doing that pretty well, aren’t we?” you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.

“i thought you’ve forgotten about that,” you admit.

“it was you who forgot.”

you sit up. “come again?” your eyes twinkle, watching alhaitham, your childhood friend. the hope that swells on your face, and alhaitham notices it; the stars in your eyes, he’s tracing the constellations in them. 

"why do you think i'm here in the first place?" his voice dips, as if hoping you didn't hear that.

a promise embedded in the stars, and one of them was waiting for the fated reunion. then, in a split second, you see a younger haitham tugging at your sleeve, following your footsteps. you hide the smile behind your hand. “you’ve been waiting for me all this time?”

“don’t flatter yourself.” alhaitham quickly extinguishes. ouch. another pause washes over before he speaks up, “come over.”

your eyes widen. “over? where?”

“to mine.”

“mine? yours?”

“my apartment. it’s close by.”

“your place?”

“yes,” alhaitham glares at you. “do i happen to be speaking in another language?”

“i mean, how come?” 

“i do not want to be investigating a missing person’s case anytime soon,” alhaitham stands up, packing his belongings, leaving you no choice but to swiftly follow suit. “and our photo albums,” he stops moving. “i've kept them.” 

your heart skips, touched by the rare sincerity. you tease, “so you do care about me.”

alhaitham scoffs. “it's only a sensible suggestion. i don’t.”

“you do.”

“don’t.”

“oh, come on.”

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 as your colleague!

✦ was classmates with you at a police academy. by the academy was an arcade where you two played too many games. after graduation, you two silently seperated. wriothesley worked in enforcement for some years before gaining his investigators licence, moved to teyvat, and eventually settled at teyvat’s sleuth operatives

✦ your current hangout place with wriothesley is still an arcade, the one by the agency - it reminds you two of the past. favourite games include money-grubbing claw machines, boxing machines, and “dancing dance rev rev” (i dont wanna get sued–). that, or you end up chatting the day away about whatever new complaints you received from alhaitham, not realising the sun has set and the owner ends up shooing you two out

✦ owns a red motorbike. will take you on rides for fun, watching sunsets on the highway feeling the breeze. will take you home whenever you need—just give him a call. he insists that the best place to hold onto is around his waist

✦ the tea connoisseur of all time. drinks a minimum of 5 cups a day, and you worry he might drop dead one day. you’ve tried to get him onto different drinks, like the popular boba tea, but plain old tea always triumphs in the end. tea is life and zhongli agrees

✦ good at subduing any targets. prefers not to shed blood, but will deescalate confrontations, usually by submission rather than violence

✦ messy uniform. shirt not buttoned all the way up, rolled sleeves, fingerless gloves, dark colours. often seen with bandages along his arm. wears a choker. like a werewolf, rugged

ᯓ★

years back, before you returned to teyvat, you attended a police academy to aid in the preparation and experience needed for your investigators licence.

you always frequented the desolate arcade by the academy. there was no door, the arcade was impartial to any of its visitors, like an open hug.

time and time again, you blew your stress off after a long day. the boxing machine was particularly satisfying in that regard. you and that machine watched the early evening resign, and the night shift taking over everyday. 

the tedium was so easily penetrated by soaking crimson, the liquid leaked vividly dripping down from the forehead. a moment was needed for you to process it. 

a dark-haired person sat languidly against an arcade machine, in a uniform you recognise. half bent-over, head tilting. the sanctity of life departing through hurried breaths. 

“h-hey,” you crouched next to him, hands outstretched but were waiting for a coherent command. “shit.” the lectures slipped by you, running past but never handing the baton. it felt useless.

suddenly, your hand was flicked away by the person. behind his fringe, it was frozen, crystallised, icicles shot past his dark strands piercing you. “don’t bother. it’s nothing.”

eyebrows furrowed. “you’re insane,” you brushed the hair out of his face, finding splotches of bruising. his lip, busted red. injuries walked all over his skin, trampling the delicate layer. his complexion ghastly pale, you weren't sure if it was his skull peeking through his skin. “i need to call you an ambulan–”

“i’m serious,” he reiterated, “i… i just need a moment, some quiet. please. i don’t want them to find…” his sentence trailed off. 

you gulped, hands trembling. “you’re sure you don’t need me to call?”

he nodded.

he reassured you, but you can’t help but feel weighed by the fact that an injured person was right next to you. you made a mental note to ensure he visits a doctor by the end of this. sighing, you slowly sat next to him.

“... i’m just stressed. tired.” his words hung heavy in the blank air.

a familiar word. a sentiment that resonated. all too familiar. 

if there was a way to cheer him up... there was only one thing you knew about feeling burdened. you point a thumb at the boxing machine. “wanna blow off some of that stress?” 

.

“do you think that the arcade by the academy is still open?”

“i hope so. i wanna know if we’re still first on all those machines. and if my bloodstain still frightens people when they walk in,” a snicker. “remember when we played ’dancing dance rev rev’ for six hours straight? those were good days.”

you and wriothesley watch the boxing machine, your joint high scores blinking on the leaderboard in excited colours. 

“do you still have those old plushies i gave you from the claw machine?” you ask.

“of course,” wriothesley searches his pockets and pulls out his keys. a miniature wolf plush keychain hangs, bobbing up and down. “like this one. named it after you, how adorable they are.” he playfully pokes "mini you", cracking a grin.

you smile at the gesture. after all these years, you never forgot each other. “hey, no bullying.” you pause. “... weren’t we supposed to be tracking a suspect? i think they have already left this arcade.”

“oh, yeah. oops.”

a pair of fraternal twins stand outside outside a small agency, reading the sign over and over: teyvat's sleuth operatives… sounds tacky and lame... they think in unison. 

it is only when you approach them, that they stop hesitating. your uniform tidy, almost mastering the archetype of a professional private investigator, smiling at your newfound clients. you are no longer the new recruit. “need our help?”

a/n: i havent played genshin seriously since inazuma so i missed out on many events ( ; ω ; ) sorry alhaitham and wrio i tried my best⭐ lemme know if my reserach sucks bc my references were ace attorney and google (ﾉД`) also i wanted to draw their uniforms but got lazy, so i drew the banner instead (･ω<)☆ anw im off to read more manhwa (great start to the year), ill be back when the motivation finally whacks me hard again. if anyone wants to request ideas, feel free! my inbox is open 24/7! happy new year!!!! 🎆🎆🎆2025 will also be the year of the snake, so shoutout to all my snakes😎

[bobur-the-berry-guy]

Toman boys and winter activities!

• ft : mikey, draken, mitsuya, baji, chifuyu, hakkai, kazutora, takemichi, smiley, angry

• part 2 - tenjiku boys

part 3 - koko, inui, taiju, sanzu, hanma & kisaki, in the making!

• requests are open!!

๑ I definitely may or may not have favourites, is it noticeable?

Christmas market

Oh my god, eveything is so cute— Chifuyu absolutely loves the Christmas maker, but his wallet would say otherwise. The decor, the clothes, the knick-knacks - they're all calling to him. He touches everything, its all so cute, but he buys only a few things. He's not a big christmas person really, but the holiday vibe itself is more than enough for him. He just wants an excuse to be a bit more giving than he usually lets himself be. The christmas market is window shopping and he can guess what you'd like for a gift - it's a win-win! His favourite is when it gets dark and the christmas decorations around the street light up. The sky is dark and the weather is cold, but the warm glow of the lights and the warmth of thick scarves and hot chocolate make it one of his favourite times of the year. And to top it all off, you look breathtaking. All wrapped in your winter clothes like a present, his fluffy scarf bundled up to your face, cheeks and nose rosy from the cold, your breath cloudy around you, the colorful christmas light glimmering and bathing you in a warm light, and you're smiling and laughing— he's absolutely smitten. Be careful not to say too many things from the market are cute though, that would make his wallet wail.

Oh i know that the christmas market games hate to see Kazutora coming - this man is an absolute menace when it comes to that. If there are games to guess, he's gonna take his time thinking what would be the right answer. Be it how many candies are in this jar or what is the decoration in the box — best believe not only is he guessing correctly but he's taking the prize home with him and you. Never let him near a diy stations. Ever. Not because he won't have fun, but because he will make a mess. There's not a single time he hasn't caused absolute chaos upon a diy project, and the christmas market no different. The knick-knack he's made will be pretty and would match the rest of your decor, and the cookies he's embellished will only look even tastier, but the havoc he leaves behind is something you'd never wish on anyone else. As much as he cleans up after himself, it's still not little to deal with. To him it's worth it though. Seeing you giggling over him having elements of the decorations over him and cleaning him up is something he wouldn't trade for the world. He just might make a bit more effort into being messy if it would mean you're there to laugh and take care of him.

The christmas maker is calling Baji's name, but not for the decororations— its the food. He will make a point to look around and spy observe what the people are eating and drinking. By that he will guess what's the best you can try. That is to say it doesn't mean he'll exclude certain things just because not many people are buying it. He wants to and will take a bite or a sip from everything. He's going to check it out during the day and when it gets dark and cold and there aren't as many people, he'll take you there and have you try everything along with him. That just makes the food and the drinks better. Hot dogs, pies, baked goods, candied almonds and ginger, chimney cakes, gingerbread cookies, mulled wine, hot chocolate— there's a lot to try and everything is to be shared. There's no such thing as my piece of this or your piece of that. If you don't like something he's gonna eat it himself and vise versa. If you don't like something and make a face he wont let you live it down. He's gonna eat it himself yes, but each time he takes a bite he will make grimace just to annoy you. He won't tell you if he doesn't like the thing either, he'll eat it regardless even if its just to make tou giggle a bit. If you like something a bit more he's gonna let you have the most of it, not that he won't pretend he doesnt like it just as much. He's there to enjoy the goods, sure, but he's there mainly to enjoy being with you.

Ice Skating

Who would've thought Mitsuya was such a good ice skater? It's almost as unexpected as it is expected. He's skilled at so many things - cooking, sewing, fighting, riding a motorcycle- if you're to write down everything, it would take up half the day. But still, skating? He's full of surprises. He's taken you with him on the skating rink, just the two of you for once. Hakkai is looking after his sisters so you two can be on your date. You think yea, he knows how to skate, but not that he's so good at it. You're still struggling around the entering point, sorry if u can skate i cant holding onto the fence, and he's gliding around the rink like he's one of these fantasy movie elves. He makes it seem like it's as easy as walking. Moving smoothly in a slow rythm, just because he's a little rusty. He's twirling around elegantly, you can see just how ethereal he looks and- oh— you're still struggling to do it?? He's going to help you, but that doesn't mean he won't show off. It's his time to shine. On his way to you he's a bit faster, a bit more fluid, almost like he's dancing. He takes you by the hand to show you how it's done. He's chatting with you during that too- sure, you're focused on trying not to fall onto the ice, but he's holding you and he's having so much fun like that. Showing off doesn't hurt every once in a while, no?

You definitely wont be bored if you're skating woth Hakkai. He's good at it, he said. He can do it, he said. Thing is he can do it, but its about just as much as chicken can fly - not for more than 13 seconds. As you're putting on the skating shoes he seems to be a bit nervous, but then again it's Hakkai. As soon as you get in the rink you understand why he's so nervous. He's holding onto the fence, trying to move his feet the right way. He finally catches onto what hes supposed to do and he's drifting around you slowly in a fluid motion. He looks so graceful, peacefully skating along and— WHAM! The second you stop to admire him it's over. He was trying his best to impress you, he really was, but when he felt you genuinely looking at him his nervousness ruined it. He embarrassed himself so bad and you think he's lame now and— you're giggling. Not mocking at him, but giggling at him. "Ohmygod Hakkai- I'm sorry you just-- that was so silly— god, you're cute!" It's over for him now, it's sealed. If an ice skating injury doesnt end him, his heart will. He can feel it every time you look at him, every time you smile, every time you laugh - he feels it going into overdrive. It feels like its soaring, closing up his throat and stolping his brain from working. Please have mercy on him, he can only take so much!

See what i did on the Wham! part hihi

Snow activitities

You've got my condolences if you're out in the snow with Nahoya. You're out in a field, it's freezing and the snow is so deep it's like a snowy desert. You'd think he'd have some mercy on you when it's so cold but you're mistaken. He's pouncing on you with eveything he has - snowball after snowball is coming your way. He's throwing them at you anyplace he can hit too. It's like he's hunting you - hiding behind trees and snow piles, stalking you quietly, waiting for justtt the right moment— HEADSHOT! By the time he's finished with you you're basically a snowman inside and out. You've got snow in your hair, in and on your jacket, between your scarf and your neck, in your hair, your back— and it's so, so cold!! You have Nahoya laughing in your face, rolling around on the snowy ground. And now it's time to head back in. You're both pretty much soaking from the melted snow when you're finally at his place. Best to have a hot bath, you don't wanna get sick. I hope you're good at sharing because he's getting with you in the bath. He's washing your hair for you and you're gonna be soaking in that bath until your fingers prune and the water cools down. He's been so mean to you, now is his moment to make it up to you, no?

Who'd think that Takemichi was the outdoorsy type in winter? The snow is still fresh and its glistening in the sun, its so early still nobody else has went to wherever he's taking you. It's close enough, he says, you'll love it. And finally you're there - the biggest, cleanest, fattest snow slope you've seen. How did he even find that?? Near the city especially??? And it's untouched??? That doesnt matter right now though, you're both too busy running up the snowy monstrosity. He's pulling the small sleight, slowing him down a bit. That doesn't stop you from going ahead of him to the top, he's trailing right behind you. When you're finally ready and set on the sleigh he explains what to do - just hold onto him and don't let go. After you're hugging him around the waist securely he pushes the sleigh. It feels like you're flying down the slope. The icy air is brushing over your face. Your hair is like a whip waving behind you. The ride is so smooth. It feels like you're floating— and your on your side in an instant. The sleigh is sideways. You and Takemichi are laying in the snow. And you both start laughing. By the time you're up on your feet you're both teary and wheezing. The view up the slope was gorgeous for sure, but for Takemichi the better view is right in front of him.

As lazy as Mikey is, he'd never refuse a walk when it's snowing. His favourite time for that is during the late afternoon, right before nightfall. The city falls quiet, the cobalt sky contrasting with the warm streetlamps, the quiet people-chatter filling the streets. The atmosphere is so peaceful, especially when you're right next to him. Your breath creating a glittery mist around you, the twilight making your eyes look shinier. You're on your way to a cafe, passing trough a foresty park. Down the path you can see the marks people have left behind. It seems like the quiet little park would be so lively during the day. And finally you're at the cafe. Its a small cozy place, snuggled between the tall surrounding buildings. In front of it two tiny, perfectly shaped snowmen holding hands. "That's us" and he is right, they do look like you two - with their small scarfs, happy little smiles and intertwined hands. Mikey's hand feel warm agaist your in his pocket. You forgot your gloves and your hands were freezing before he gave you one of his gloves and took your other hand in his. You have moment to admire him, the dim light from the cafe making his gentle face look even more delicate. From the cafe you take a few sweets and a hot chocolate each. This time he takes you to a different way and you're at his home in just a few minutes. When you question him he says he wanted to take a walk but got lazy on the way back. In truth, though, he wanted to have you all to himself for a bit — he didnt need you to talk or to entertain him, he just wanted to you to be there with him. And he wanted an excuse to hold your hand.

Staying in

When it's freezing outside and there's not much to do it's best to stay home and chill, in Drakens opinion. What would you be doing out and about in weather like that anyways? It's best to stay in - its warm, cozy, and most importantly you both can relax. That is, until you dedice you want to make gingerbread cookies so bad. As much as he wants to he knows he cant refuse you, he's too weak to do that. And he only has himself to blame for his predicament. He's dolled up in a frilly apron, he some of the batter still sticks to his hands and there's flour everywhere. You're laughing at his pout, unbothered by the mess. Swatting at him, bending over in laughter— and he smacks you right back. Of course he doesn't do it hard, but he won't go down without a fight! And chaos ensuses. By the time the cookies are ready for decorating the whole kitchen is in dissaray - bowls are upside down and over, theres spoons everywhere, everything and you two are covered in flour. You're both barely breathing and wheezing from laughter, stomach hurting and eyes teary. Holding onto him for support, almsot falling laughing. He has flour all over his face, hair and clothes, and you're no better. You'd have a huge cleanup to doz but that can wait for a little bit. As stoic as he is, he's still smiling like an idiot at the whole situation. To him it only serves his preference to stay in, with you.

The best part of winter is when its the dead of the ice-cold night and you're home, warm and toasty for Souya. The wind is whispering quitely like a dove, a few scattered constellations twinkling across the midnight sky, only a few of the windows on the opposite apartments still glowing across the sleeping neighborhood. All that is tangible trough his window. Hes on his bed, snuggled up with you. Warm, cozy and safe. He can hear music still playing from his phone somewhere, but he doesnt care enough to turn it off. You've been on his big, fluffy blankets for so long that they seems to smell a bit like you. Even his pajamas feel infused with the heat of you, him and the blankets. You look peacefully asleep, resting next to him. He's caressing you. Normally he'd be too flustered to, but you're asleep and you feel so soft— surely you wouldn't mind. It feels like he's itching, burning to have you close to him. He feels like he could melt right into you. For once he finds his words to talk. "You're so beautiful." He's muttering the words so quietly, his voice is soft like that of a dove."i wish i could look you in the eyes to tell you that, you know?" He's caressing the side of your head. "Are you an angel? I think you are. To me, you are." He presses a kiss on your forehead. On your temple. On your cheekbone. On your cheek. Right at the corner of your lips. His lips feel so tender, he's so careful not to wake you up. He wouldn't ever live that down."I love you. I'm gonna tell you that when you're awake too, yeah? Good night." Of course, he didnt have to know you were awake. He needed his quiet moments too.

•

•

•

•

I'm gonna die from the cold here i despise the school heating system e s p e c i a l l y in the basement

I have 8 classes a week in the basement save me

[muscleloverz69]

A Raw Deal

To a normal person one of the fae might appear human. In fact it is nearly impossible to tell the two apart. The only difference is the fae are always extremely hot. One of the most important rules of dealing with the fae is never make a deal. Unfortunately, Brian had no idea Nick was anything but a young vendor at the music festival. 

All the food looked so good to Brian and he was so hungry, too bad he realized he was flat broke once he reached the front of the line. He looked up from his empty wallet at Nick to apologize and completely froze. Brian had always been completely straight but even he could admit Nick was one of the most attractive men he had ever seen with completely chiseled features, perfect lean muscles that complemented his narrow waist and thick upper thighs spread out in his seat. Nick smirked “Hey dude, you good?” 

“Oh yeah sorry I’m flat broke my bad I’ll step out of line.”

Brian was so flustered he completely missed the predatory gleam in Nick’s eyes. “Bro don’t even worry about it, I’ll make you a deal help me out in the back for a couple hours and lunch is on me.”

“Wow really, thanks!”

“Of course! The only rule is you can’t eat until we’re done or it’ll mess up my inventory count.”

Brian was so hungry but he knew he could struggle through a couple hours for a free lunch, so he nodded and followed Nick into the tent behind the counter.

The moment Brian entered the tent he felt his stomach cramp up, the most delicious smells of pies, cookies, and sandwiches were coming at him from every angle.

“So, I really just need you to stay here for the next two hours and make sure nobody sneaks back here and eats anything.”

Brian could only shake his head in agreement and watch as Nick walked away admiring his full ass move as he did. He rubbed his eyes trying to snap himself out of it. Brian had never so much as looked at a man in his entire life but maybe the hunger and partying from the past couple days was getting to him.

Not to mention Brian was a little sex-starved. It wasn’t that he was unattractive. Some would definitely think he was cute but it was always in a twinky nerd way. He looked nothing like Nick who was already occupying more space in his mind than another man should.

The first hour wasn’t easy, but Brian just tried to ignore the food around him and relax. He didn’t notice Nick peek through the entrance. Nick was starting to wonder if Brian would make it the full time and decided he needed to turn up the challenge. Nick walked back into the tent holding a large pizza. “Hey, this came a little early its for after you’re done working but it might be a little cold by then.”

Nick shrugged and walked back out. Brian sweated it out for a few minutes before finally stuffing his face with the pizza. It only took a few bites before Brian could tell something was wrong. First he felt a burning sensation on his arm, then in big letters NICK was written in black on his arm. He found himself frozen unable to move at all.

Brian stood there unable to move for the next few hours until it got late. Then Nick walked in with a wicked smile across his face. “Hello Brian, so it looks like you couldn’t wait to eat. Unfortunately, that means you are now my servant.”

Nick snapped his fingers and Brian found myself able to speak but my feet were still planted to the ground.

“WHAT. I don’t understand I’m sorry I couldn’t help myself.”

“Brian, it’s quite alright. These things happen you’ll come home with me and the details of your contract will be provided shortly.”

Nick walked forward to Brian wrapping his muscular arms around his waist. Nick brushed under Brians chin forcing them to make eye contact. Nick leaned in their lips brushing against each other. “We are going to have fun together.”

Brian woke up in a large bed sore and confused. As he looked around his eyes landed on a man. He was an attractive guy, large boulder shoulders and beefy pecs that shadowed over him.

“You’re up,” the man walked over to him.

“My name is Jock how do you feel?”

Brian shook his head confused, “your name is Jock.”

“I don’t think it was always Jock but that’s what master said it is now.”

It was then Brian glanced down at his arm to the letters NICK and remembered what happened. Jock went on to explain that Nick was a fae and had tricked the both of them into becoming his slaves. They were now magically forced to do anything Nick asked. 

“Really anything master wants you’ll do, become, or believe,” Jock sat down on the bed. “I didn’t always look like this but this is what master wanted for when he has fun with me”

Brian was in disbelief at what a quick turn his life had taken. “So what can I do? I’m not gay and I don’t want to be owned.”

Jock shook his head “There really isn’t anything you can do, my only advice, Master offers everyone the same deal…take it.”

It was then the door swung open. Nick walked in to the bedroom shirtless, his tight muscles reminding Brian of some predatory cat. “Jock thank you for watching our new guest, you can go.”

Like that Jock was gone. Now it was just Brain and Nick.

“So Brian I trust Jock filled you in. Now its time to make you more suited for my home. First I value fitness so grow your muscles for me.” 

Brian hardly had a chance to be confused before he felt his stomach ache and looked down to see a set of cobbled defined abs. He suddenly felt much wider as his shoulders and back spread. His pecs began to balloon and his biceps thickened.

Nick smiled as he closed the distance between them. “Now you look tasty.” 

Nick kissed Brian pushing him backward on the bed. Brian opened his mouth to say something but Nick cut him off “You will participate and try to please me.”

Brian quickly got the message and allowed his lips to part for Nick’s tongue. Brian tossed his own shirt on the floor. Internally he was screaming, I’m not gay, but he couldn’t help but try to make Nick happy.

Nick groped Brian’s new arms before cupping his face. “Now time for a few more things. First Brian doesn’t quite suite you anymore, I think from now on you’ll be Thad and you can forget it was ever anything else.”

Thad was confused. Wait wasn’t his name always Thad. Was that right?” 

Nick interupted Thad’s thinking, ”The only thing is that name isn’t known for being intellegent so let’s dumb you down and make you a little more bro-y”

Thad felt a relaxing fog descend on him, he didn’t mind it. “Bruh that kinda feels sick.”

“Now just one last thing. I offer everyone this deal, now it’s your turn. You will live hear forever but if you agree to become gay I will make you happy to be here. Then you’ll have as much fun with our encounters as me. I could just make these changes myself, but honestly it’s no difference to me how you feel and the choice is more fun.”

Thad felt confused. A feeling he would probably have to get used to with his new intellect, but he needed to choose. Thad decided that if this was his new life he might as well enjoy it.

“Ok dude, do it.”

Thad felt it almost instantly. He was in the best place ever, and standing in front of him was the sexiest man he had ever seen. Thad almost lept forward, ripping Nicks pants off and began latching onto his cock. Nick gripped Thad’s new styled hair as his head bobbed up and down. Then Nick came. Nick chuckled Thad didn’t know it but the entire spell only would have lasted 24 hours then he could have gone home free, but now that he willingly drank Nick’s cum the spell was sealed forever.

Meanwhile Thad was in total bliss he was going to love being here with Nick and Jock.

[agnoll]

ripped all my cds and installed a music streaming server on my raspberry pi and now i don't have to pay for silly spotify anymore, one less subscription and more money in my wallet

[itgirl-111]

THE BEST MONEY AFFIRMATIONS (aka facts)

(this is gonna be the only money Affirmations you'll never need lol)

I am rich

I am financially stable

I'm secure in my financial state

Money is safe

Money is good

Money is here to stay

I'm a money magnet

I have the perfect money mindset

I have the perfect self concept on money

I love money and money loves me

Money is the easiest thing to make

I have multiple sources of income

I am wealthy

I genuinely believe I deserve a lot of money

I deserve a luxurious, comfort, fun filled, lifestyle

I am worthy and deserving of having lots of money because I exist

I get money everyday

I get paid to exist

I am worth every cent I get

I get money quickly and easily

People always have enough money to give me

People bend over backwards to make sure I'm getting paid enough

Nobody goes to sleep unless and untill they make sure I'm getting paid enough

Everyday I just make more and more money

Me and the people i love are rich af

My bank account never stops getting fatter

I am so rich i make Elon Musk look poor

I am so rich my hands are starting to smell like money

I wake up every day and go to sleep stress free knowing that I don't have to worry about money in my life

I am living wealthy and abundant life

I keep finding money everywhere

No matter where I go money always keeps chasing me like a lost puppy

If I were to count the amount of times I got a huge amount of money out of blue, I wouldn't be able to count it cuz it's too much

My fingers are starting to hurt because of the amount of times I counted my stacks and stacks worth of billions of cash ugh 😫

I have so much money in my bank account that the value of pi π looks small

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, 7 OUT OF 7 days I get money.

12 OUT OF 12 months I get money

there's not a single day that goes by without me getting money

Any amount of money i spend comes back to me tenfold

I walk into a shop knowing damn well I could buy the entire shop if I wanted to

I have so much money I can use it instead of a toilet paper (jk i don't do that)

I have so much money I can make origami out of it

I have so much money I'd buy the biggest companies and still remain rich as fuck like?

I am the definition of LOADED 💵

I am independent, successful, wealthy, rich, self sufficient, financially secure, debt free, stress free, yep I identify with those things.

My notifications are flooded with me receiving payments constantly

If anyone is a FATASS it is my wallet

Money is so desperate to stay in my life

Every where I go even to the damn toilet I still can never escape from lots of money😔

Money keeps flowing to me like a river

My bank account digits are the most groundbreaking, immense, tremendous, huge, back arching, toe curling, digits ever known to human kind😞

If i spent a whole day counting my stacks of cash, i wouldn't be able to cause that will take atleast a million years...oops...😳

Whether it's expected or unexpected, whether  I'm happy or sad, sleeping or awake, working or not, money comes to me all the time and In all the ways.

[k-hotchoisan]

toothbrush (Seonghwa x fem!reader)

Baby, you don’t have to rush, you can leave your toothbrush at my place.

We don’t have to keep it hush, you can leave your toothbrush at my place.

He’s in love with you, but he doesn’t know how to tell you, so he asks you to leave your toothbrush at his place.

Genre/Warnings: friends to lovers, confessions, fluff, unprotected sex, night before sex, morning sex, cream pies

Word count: 5.5k

A/n: this mf song has been stuck in my head so I gotta write this to get it out of my system.

A little something for ✨ 200 followers ✨

2 SEX SCENES IN 1??? YALL EATING SO GOOD OK 🌶️💯🥵🔥

thank you for the support 🩷 words cannot express how grateful I am for every like, reblog and reply!

You didn’t mean to but there you were again, being irritated and crying from another heartbreak from a relationship that wasn’t even a relationship. It sucked because he seemed like a really nice guy, good even, well, if you squinted hard enough I guess. But still, it didn’t change the fact that it gutted you.

You lie on your friend’s lap, wiping your wet eyes while she snatches your phone to block that scum’s contact number.

“You need to stop doing this to yourself”, she scolds, and you’ve heard it many times from her but love makes you an absolute dumbass.

Seonghwa walks over, his arms folded, evident he heard your sniffling from across the room. You glance at him, tears still watering your eyes because you know he’s about to give you another earful. But the moment he sees you vulnerable like that, he can’t bring himself to do it, and he’s sure you’ve heard a million times, especially from him. He simply sighs and puts an outstretched arm to get you to sit up.

You remain silent as you take his hand gingerly and he pulls you up. He kneels down to your eye level. “I’ll bring you to supper okay? Forget about that son of a bitch.”

You still wear a pout on your face as you sigh and lean forward a little. For a spilt second, Seonghwa is taken aback and pulls back immediately, thinking you were about to kiss him, and his ears grow red very quickly, unnoticed by you, but definitely caught by your friend, who turns away and snickers at the ridiculousness of it all.

Seonghwa immediately stands up and looks away, walking back to whatever he was doing. You slap your cheeks gently before leaving to wash your face in Seonghwa’s bathroom.

The three of you spend the evening playing horrible matches of Super Smash Bros, before your friend decides to leave early, only leaving you and Seonghwa with each other. You excuse yourself to the washroom to freshen up before your supper appointment with Seonghwa and he nods as he attempts to switch off the console.

Just then, your phone lights up and that catches Seonghwa’s attention. He at first decides to merely glance over to check if it was your friend who messaged you, but irritation and annoyance bleeds into his system the moment he sees the Instagram direct message notification, from that exact guy who ghosted you, asking you if you had him blocked on the app the both of you were messaging on.

The fucking audacity of him. Seonghwa could only furrow his eyebrows in complete frustration as he doesn’t want to invade your privacy, even though you gave him your password in case of drinking emergencies. Instead, he simply opts to swipe the notification away, as if it never existed. That barely keeps him satisfied, because he wishes he could just send a “go fuck yourself” to him before blocking him on Instagram as well.

You come back and Seonghwa is standing up, taking his essentials in his pretty hands as he hands you your phone.

You thank him as you receive your phone from him. “Remember to block him”, Seonghwa reminds you out of the blue, only leaving you confused since you did block him already. You don’t question it nonetheless, and go to grab your wallet from your bag.

By then it was almost 11pm, and the both of you settle on a local Vietnamese restaurant for some nice Pho. Seonghwa helps you order the food before you could even iterate yours. You scrunch your eyebrows in curiosity at him.

“Didn’t know you were so nice,” you tease as you receive the utensils from him on instinct. He rolls his eyes. “I’m always nice. You’ve just been accustomed to it.”

“Of course you are. My Park Seonghwa is always the nicest”, you hum, and Seonghwa freezes in his place, his noodles in midair, hanging by the chopsticks he’s suddenly grasping so hard. There it is again, the slow tinting of his ears, that you thought you missed for a spilt second.

Seonghwa obviously opts not to say anything back, letting the words sink as he slurps the noodles. He notices your mood had significantly lightened up the moment you indulged yourself in the meal, and he internally sighs in relief. He lets you run your mouth as he listens intently, just wanting to hear your voice and opinions, at the same getting lost in the gaze of your twinkling eyes. He loved that part of you so much for some reason. It was so addictive to indulge in, and Seonghwa knows, it’s never gonna be enough for him. He hasn’t gotten to a certain point yet, and he’s sort of afraid to because;

One, he doesn’t want to get caught;

Two, he knows if he starts, he’s never going back. A fucking rabbit hole that constantly coos him to step into.

“No dates recently? You ask, as you munch on the meat.”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Not interested.”

You pull your lips thin, offhandedly thinking his standards must be high.

“Oh right. I need to head to the convenience store to grab some stuff”, you say, reminding yourself aloud. “Shall we?”

Seonghwa nods as you stand up quickly, shocking Seonghwa as you block him from leaving first, as you tunnel to the cashier to pay for the meal. He barely registers what’s going on and the second he does, it’s already too late and he rushes over to you, frustrated that you paid the bill when it was him who suggested the meal.

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “It’s fine Seonghwa. Take it as thanks for making me feel better”, you say patting his cheeks lightly before sliding your card back into your wallet. You and Seonghwa thank the staff before heading to your next destination.

The door rings as he pushes the door open for you and lets you go in first. You immediately head for the toiletries section and Seonghwa spilts to the snacks section.

He’s done picking out his snacks, arms full of chips and cup ramen, as he dumps the small load into the basket. He picks it up and decides to look for you.

And you were there, at the same section. Seonghwa’s curious at what you’re so intently looking at and why you were at the toiletries section to begin with. He assumes at first that you needed sanitary items but as he nears you, he sees that you’re looking at—

“Toothbrushes?” He asks as he leans in closer to take a look.

You nod. “Yeah. About time I get a new one.”

“Get the pair one.” Seonghwa suggests, his hands overlapping and covering yours as he reaches out for the twin pair beside the one you were looking at.

“For what? You need one too?” You ask, turning to face him.

“No”, was all he replies. You raise an eyebrow in confusion, waiting for him to continue.

“Soooo, why should I get the twin pack?” You ask again, tilting your head at him. Seonghwa can’t seem to meet your gaze.

And you realise, once again, his ears are slowly turning into a pretty shade of red. But it still doesn’t make sense. The blush creeps to his cheeks slightly, barely noticeable if it wasn’t for the fluorescent lights beating down on the both of you, and the silence only grows more heavier. You hear a small inhales taken by Seonghwa.

“So you can leave one at my place”, he finally responds, his eyes darting from the toothbrushes to your eyes.

Your words are stuck in your throat, completely taken aback. You blink at him.

“Your place?” You reiterate, already slowly tugging the pack.

Seonghwa cuts the eye contact, and he hastily pulls the pack from under your hands and dumps it into the basket. It’s fucking evident—he’s fucking blushing even though he’s keeping a straight face. Nothing is still adding up in your head—like where that even came from, what that even meant.

“Hwa”, you sounded, your hands curling around his arm to get his attention. He flinches slightly at your contact. “What do you mean by that? I don’t stay over-“

“You should stay over tonight since you don’t have anything on tomorrow. It’s late”, he cuts. He’s barely calm as his back is facing you, and he feels himself shaking from the ballsy words that left his mouth. He was so fucking relieved that the only people in store was the both of you. But what made him vocalise those thoughts? He doesn’t know as well. But since he already pushed the suggestion to even leave a fucking toothbrush at his place, he may as well go all out.

A hell lot of thoughts were running through your mind. The reason of asking you to stay over solely because “it’s late”, you both knew it was a fucking lie. But the question still stands—since when?

Then he suddenly backtracks. “I can sleep on the couch. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” That only strengthens your resolve for some reason, only wondering how this impromptu conversation will evolve from here.

“Sure, I’ll crash at your place.”

And Seonghwa doesn’t reply, because he’s struggling to cover his red ass face as he quickens his pace to the cashier, leaving you still stumped behind him. But being the guy Park Seonghwa is, he turns behind and ushers you to follow him, causing a small smile to dance on your lips as you almost skip to his side.

Thank fuck the route back was like a five minutes walk because the both of you don’t say a word—just Seonghwa holding the plastic bag as you tail him, sneaking glances at him as he covers his lips with the back of his palm.

“You’re blushing a hell lot, Park Seonghwa”, you point out, intentionally nearing his face. His palm flattens on his cheek, and then lowers to his neck and he sighs. “I know”, he replies, finally able to crack a small smile the moment his eyes meet yours. He can’t help it. Deep inside, he’s still bewildered that you agreed to stay over.

Seonghwa dumps his stuff on the dining table and starts digging for your toothbrush, knowing you are gonna ask for it the moment you remove your shoes. Before you could even ask, he whips the toiletry out right into your hands.

“Thanks bro”, you say, taking the item from him. And from the corner of your eye, you see a pout form on his face, and that only elicits a small chuckle from you as you tear open the packaging to take one out.

“Do you have spare towels?” You ask.

“I’ll grab some for you, and a shirt too”, Seonghwa replies as he leaves the vicinity, a little too quickly, as he snatches one of the toothbrushes already in your hand.

A few minutes pass and Seonghwa emerges from the bathroom and gestures for you to go in when you’re ready. “It’s on the sink. Be careful okay? Call out my name if you need anything.”

You nod as you disappear into the bathroom.

And then Seonghwa’s composure completely dissipates the moment you close the door. Red flushes his neck and ears again as he sits on the couch, covering his face with both palms. Fuck, he can’t believe this is happening. He’s not expecting anything obviously because he doesn’t know how you feel about him, and he doesn’t want to push it. But undoubtedly, the thought of you being in the same vicinity as him, is sending him into a spiral.

“Fuck me”, he sighs, leaning back into the couch, his face under his arm, feeling his blush not going away.

You leave the bathroom after fifteen, agonising minutes, and Seonghwa is relieved he lent you his boxers because he wouldn’t know what he would have done if you came out just in his shirt and your underwear.

“I’m done. I’m going into the room first. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I’m fine with sharing a bed with you”, you tell him before disappearing with your phone. Seonghwa’s thoughts grow hazy because the situation is just escalating and his mind is slowly creeping into areas where he had promised not to seep into. Maybe it was the comfort he gave you because he always looked out for you ever since the both of you grew close and that you knew he would never hurt you, but it’s reaching a fever pitch at this point and he doesn’t know how much more he can take because his crush on you is that fucking bad.

He emerges from the bathroom, his hair wet and dripping, in the cutest matching silk grey pyjamas you finally see him wear in real life since you’ve only seen once through discord. Fuck he’s so adorable, like he’s totally prepared for bed already. He climbs into bed, his gaze never leaving yours as he drinks the look of you in his clothes. It was almost dream-like in his eyes.

“I finally get to see you in those cute pjs”, you tease. “Maybe I should get a set too.”

Seonghwa snuggles to a comfortable position, since the bed isn’t too big, and you feel his knee bump onto yours. You turn to face him, and he feels himself melt under your gaze.

“Park Seonghwa,” you call out, snapping him out of his little day dream, and he straightens his back in attention. “What’s up with you?”

Seonghwa doesn’t answer, and it’s evident he’s getting nervous. His hand reaches out to caress your cheek and you shut your eyes as you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin.

“It’s you. It’s always been you”, Seonghwa suddenly confesses, removing his hands from your face.

Your heart bursts into thousands of butterflies at his response. You don’t know how you never noticed it, but now that he’s mentioned it, you realise the soft spots he seemed to have for you, which you brushed off his actions as how he’s always been with other people, now more evident as it floats to the surface.

For a moment, you don’t know how to feel because it was all so sudden. But the more Seonghwa’s sinks into your brain, the more you feel yourself falling—fast. And now the both of you are staring at each other in the dark, on the same bed, sharing the silence between the both of you.

“I think it would devastate me if you didn’t like me back”, Seonghwa breaks the silence, as a small laugh escapes his lips. “But it’s fine. I don’t-“

Your hands cup the male’s lips, and his eyes widen in surprise, wondering if he said anything wrong.

“Seonghwa. Stop talking.”

His heart races, bracing for a rejection, only to feel a pair of hands cup his cheek as you lean in and press your lips against his.

Seonghwa feels himself falling apart as his hands snake to the side of your head, his lips parting, desperate to taste all of you as he closes the distance between the both of you. He becomes more aggressive as every second passed, craving for every part of you. The smell of his body soap on you engulfs him entirely and can’t help but turn into mush against your lips.

As he pulls back and drinks the sight of you heaving softly and eyes hooded, he moves above you, his hands trailing up and down your body as he dives in for another hungry kiss. He’s still not processing it—the fact that he confessed to you at the heat of the moment, the fact that you kissed him and the fact that he’s above you right now.

His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips and you part your lips—something he doesn’t expect—as his thumb slides down past your lips as you stick your tongue out shyly and he’s aroused by the whole scene.

“Could I-?” He asks, trying to keep his cool. You take his hand and lick his thumb, sending electricity right to Seonghwa’s dick, which is hardening very quickly above you.

“Please do. Anything, if it’s with you”, you sigh, your arousal burning you up. Seonghwa’s heart skips a beat as he pulls his shirt off and your breathe quickens at how scrumptious his body looks. Fuck, his tits look amazing. You absentmindedly reach out to feel them and boy, did they feel so good. Seonghwa’s face contorts into one of pleasure as a whimper escapes his lips. Your eyes flicker to meet his and a small smile appears on your lips. You don’t realise what he’s doing until his hands snake under your oversized tee and he cups your tits in return, causing you to squeal in pleasure as he pinches your nipples tenderly. “That feels good, Hwa”, you whimper, trying to hide your shyness. He takes it as a signal to lift the shirt up and over your head, your bare chest fully exposed to him now. His breath hitches because never in a million years would he have thought it would be right before him like that. He still cannot fathom it.

He cups your tits as he goes down and sucks on your nipple, causing you to arch your back in reaction as a cry leaves your body. Your fingers tug on his hair gently and this time, he whimpers. His eyes slowly open as he soaks in the view of you, face contorted with pleasure as he sucks and kisses your tits. He can’t get enough.

His hands soon leave your chest, giving you a moment to catch your breath, but you realise it’s because he’s palming his crotch—his dick just erected and pushing against his silk pants, which were starting to get stained from his precum.

“Come here”, you gesture, and he moves in closer, his gaze never leaving yours, wanting to immerse himself with you. You have him leaning against the pillows that were propped up, and you move in for another gentle, open mouthed kiss. He immediately reciprocates, sighing into your mouth lovingly as he cups your cheek while he palms his clothed erection.

You straddle him, and your pussy is just above his erection. A little bit of teasing wouldn’t hurt, you think as you grind up his clothed dick. Seonghwa stares down at your pussy as the wetness continues to pool and leak through your clothes with heavy breaths. The friction from the layers is making him whine. It’s not enough. Seonghwa wants more. But oh gods, did it feel so good. He stops you when he can’t take it anymore.

“Please, y/n. Need to be in you”, he begs, squeezing your thighs. “It’s not enough.”

You pull back and tug on his waistbands, pulling off both his pants and his boxers, staring at the string of wetness between his cockhead and his undergarment. His cock twitches at the contact and more precum oozes from his tip.

Seonghwa is definitely feeling shy but the horniness is just overpowering him at this point.

And you were not gonna let it go just yet.

You give him small strokes and he fucks into your hand, and whines. You never knew Seonghwa to be the greedy type but from the way he’s begging—twitching and whining to be fucked—it definitely gave you a new perspective.

“Are you ready?” You ask, stroking his jaw.

He nods a little too quickly, his gaze locking onto yours as you position his cockhead to your entrance and sink down.

It was a fucking treat—watching Seonghwa’s face contort into absolute euphoria, eyebrows scrunching together, more whimpers and whines escaping his lips alongside your name.

Your cunt finally swallows his cock whole and Seonghwa’s hand trembles slightly as he lets himself soak in the warmth of your pussy.

Your fingers go around his jaw as you lift his chin up to face you.

“You’re not gonna cum yet right?”

His eyes look so glazed as he shakes his head frantically. You lean in and kiss his jaw. “I’m gonna start moving”, you mutter, loud enough so that he could hear, and he nods.

You lift your hips off and slam down, the pleasure buzzing through the both of you as you begin bouncing on his cock. Seonghwa fights the urge to shut his eyes as his fingers grip your thighs.

“Mm, so good. So fucking good, y/n. Fuck. More, please.” He begs. “You feel so fucking amazing.”

On the other hand, you felt as euphoric as well, his cock hitting you in all right places. You lean in to rest your head on Seonghwa’s shoulders as you do your best to fuck into Seonghwa’s cock. The sounds were so pornographic—squelching and wet skin slapping non stop—only keeping the momentum going.

You were starting to lose grip on reality as well, the only thing that settled in your mind was the feeling of Seonghwa’s cock just being shoved deep in you. Soon enough, his hands move to your ass, lifting it before pushing it down, loving how your cunt just devours his cock whole like that. He doesn’t forget to pull you in and stick soft kisses against your neck and temples every time you lower yourself on his dick, exacerbating the tickling that flushed in your cunt. Your mind slowly melts into mush every time Seonghwa’s melodic moans burn straight into your ear.

Your hands cup both sides of his face as you tilt his head to face you. His eyes were half-lidded, and his lips parted, and he’s trying to regulate his breathing as his eyes focus on yours. You hear your heart hammer in your ears. You never realised how fucking gorgeous he actually looks.

“You put Aphrodite to shame, you know?” You suddenly break the silence. Seonghwa grows red again. He attempts to look away but your hands aren’t letting him. “You’re so fucking pretty.” And he hardens right beneath you, his neck fully flushing red now.

You turn to nip and kiss his neck this time, and his breath gets caught in his throat, now small sobs leaving him. The orgasmic feeling begins chasing you as you feel yourself squeeze around him, and undoubtedly, Seonghwa feels it too, judging by how erratically he’s rutting into you.

“Fuck, Hwa, I’m cumming”, you crack, as you sink so fucking deep into his cock, feeling his cockhead just dragging along your cunt, that his fingers are leaving light imprints on your thighs.

“So fucking deep-“ he pants, just before his face seeps into another realm of pleasure when your orgasm bursts in waves and you are clawing his arms, barely keeping it together as the pleasure washes over you. Your eyes are rolled back, eyebrows scrunched as only Seonghwa’s name leaves your lips over and over.

Seonghwa’s hands curl around your jaw as he brings your lips to his, kissing you hard through your orgasm, and your mouth hangs open, still fucked out from the pleasure. You’re pretty sure you creamed so much on his cock at this point, but you were too much in euphoria to care.

In between wet kisses, he winces, “I’m cumming too”. Without much of a warning, his cock twitches in you, and he shoots ropes of hot cum right into your hole as he groans into your neck, right at your fucking ear. His grip moves to your hair as he tugs gently as he empties himself in you.

As the high dies down, the only sounds in the room were you and Seonghwa’s pants. You were the first to break the tension with a soft laugh.

“Oh god Seonghwa, I think I’m in love with you.”

Seonghwa blinks, not expecting those words to leave your mouth. He wants to grab you and kiss you so hard till you fight for air but he holds back, kissing the shell of your ear before whispering, “you don’t know how long I’ve been in love with you.” You pull back, covering your ear, your turn to blush.

You lift yourself off him, feeling his cum leak out of you as you wince. Seonghwa is fighting every nerve in his body to look away but his gaze stays glued onto the way his cum oozes out of you, his heartbeat turning up a notch.

You head to the bathroom to clean up and so does Seonghwa. He washes his hands and combs through your hair with a hairbrush delicately, and you realise you’re falling way too fucking hard for him.

He takes your hand and leads you back to the bed, where he pulls the covers open for you to climb in as you snuggle into his warmth.

The warmth of the sun kisses against your skin as you stir awake. Seonghwa faces you, his hair tussled against the pillow and his lashes splay prettily on his face. You can’t help but stroke his face gently, smiling to yourself.

Seonghwa’s eyes flutter open and he soaks the figure of you looking at him fondly. He definitely blushes but you could tell he was more confident and it shows at the way he presses a soft kiss onto your palm.

“Morning, Angel”, he greets. Your heart flutters at the pet name.

“Good morning Hwa”, you reply, this time it was you feeling shy.

“So, have I upgraded from a “bro” already?”he asks, poking your cheek.

You roll your eyes, wondering how he even remembered that. “Yeah, yeah. I don’t think I could be with anyone else but you.”

Seonghwa’s grin spread wide as he covers his face with the covers. You separate yourself from him and he follows your movements as you leave the bed to wash up.

Seonghwa stares at you speechless as you pull your panties from your ass with your thumbs right in front of you as you leave for the bathroom, and his breath is knocked out of him when he remembers that that you left his boxers somewhere on the bed, and that you slept in with his shirt and your panties. He wets his lips as he decides to get out and follow you.

He enters the small bathroom and admires the way his shirt hangs off your shoulders and the way you’re just leaning into the mirror as you brush your teeth. He walks over and intentionally bumps into you playfully, and you frown at him, mouth still covered in foamed toothpaste. He takes his toothbrush from the holder, presses a small amount of toothpaste onto his toothbrush.

There was something strangely calming about just standing together, side by side, brushing teeth. The cute moment definitely did last, until Seonghwa’s gaze wanders down to your ass.

And suddenly his dick is hard against his pyjama pants, and you were too caught up on washing your face and checking the mirror to notice it.

Seonghwa continues to stare at you as you wash the toothbrush and fit it in the holder, and the thought of you and your toothbrush being a permanent part of his household, sent his brain into a frenzy. You were his, undoubtedly.

He finishes up his teeth brushing duties, letting his toothbrush sit opposite yours. You don’t realise he’s behind you until you a feel a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, causing you to squeal.

“Babe, what-“ and your question is cut short when begins pepper kisses on the nape of your neck, sending electricity down your spine as you shiver.

In between hungry kisses, his gaze pins you from the reflection in the mirror and you freeze. “I’m sorry Angel, but seeing you look that first thing in the morning… I can’t help myself.”

And you feel his erection just pressing between your legs. You turn your face to side, your lips pressed to his ear as you whisper softly, “then help yourself, Seonghwa.” It sends goosebumps down Seonghwa, and for a spilt second, his eyes look crazed at your invitation.

He doesn’t even bother to pull your panties off, he only pulls it to the side, and the cold air hits your exposed cunt as you wince. Seonghwa pushes his fingers past your lips and then plunges it into your heat as your grip on the sink tightens, feeling the pressure of his fingers digging into you so well.

Seonghwa doesn’t wait—he can’t wait. He fucking needs you, and he needs you now. He pulls quickly after determining that your pussy stretched enough (no thanks to yesterday’s session) he lets his pants and boxers drop to his ankles, exposing his thick and heated cock, which was sleeked with precum as he pumps himself.

Seonghwa then drags you slightly backwards and positions himself his cock dives into you, and your back arches as you gasp. Fuck, you don’t remember his cock was this thick even though the both of you just fucked the night before. You feel so fucking full just by Seonghwa’s dick pressing against every area of your nerves. He doesn’t give you any more time to adjust as he starts fucking you, making sure each slap against your cunt was heard loud and fucking clear within the constraints of the bathroom. Your moans are choked in your throat as Seonghwa’s hand pushes your chin up to look right at the mirror before the both of you. Your hair is a in mess from the bed hair, your lips coated in your spit from the arousal and your eyes are half-lidded from the endless amount of pleasure Seonghwa was fucking into you.

“Look at you, so fucked out, yet so beautiful. All mine. All fucking mine”, he hums into your ears and you can’t help but squeeze his cock in response to how he’s making you feel. You don’t know where the sudden possessiveness came from, but it’s not like you didn’t mind. You would submit yourself perfectly to him.

“So good, babe. Fuuuuck”, you draw out your moans. You don’t know how much longer you could hold yourself up when he’s fucking into you so hard like that. Every time he pushes in, it was a dopamine rush in your cunt. He was about to fuck you dumb and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Such a good Angel, creaming for me like this”, he praises as he looks at his cock when he pulls out, full of your arousal just leaking off his cock, before shoving his cock in again, pushing more moans and cries out of you.

“Hwa, please, I’m close. Gonna cum”, you pant, feeling your cunt spazzing around his dick. He definitely feels it too because he grabs your chin to face him as he devours you in a hungry kiss, trying to keep the momentum.

“You can let go, Angel. You can do it for me”, he says, stroking the sides of your face, and by some kind of miracle of timing, your orgasm washes over you, your cunt fluttering, which makes Seonghwa groan in bliss as he feels his cock being squeezed perfectly.

He leans into you, pushing you further down against the sink, as he begins to rut into you. “Cumming. Fuck”, he barely responds, engulfed in his own realm of pleasure as he ruts in a couple more times before his cock empties out in you, so much that some seeps out of your sore cunt, trickling down your thighs and some straight up dripping onto the bathroom floor.

Seonghwa takes a minute to gather himself as he pulls out gingerly, wincing at the sensitivity. He straightens you up, and pulls you into his arms as he presses another kiss onto your forehead. He steps out of his soiled clothing and helps you out of yours, as the both of you go on to shower together.

“What the heck got into you?” You ask, as you help him lather the soap on his broad back which you forced yourself not to excessively gawk at.

“You just looked too good. Like I said, I couldn’t help it.” And he’s so glad that he’s not facing you right now.

You laugh, pressing against his sides playfully, making him squeal as he faces you in surprise.

“I get that you’re embarrassed but you know it’s okay to look at me right?” You say, poking his chest—also definitely something you wanted to explore. Seonghwa pouts at you, and then his face relaxes.

“Y/n. I like you. No, I’m actually fucking in love with you”, he suddenly says, which only makes you cock an eyebrow.

“About fucking time you said it”, you reply, rubbing your arms up with more body wash. You look up at him with mischievous expression. “My toothbrush isn’t going anywhere, babe”, you tease, giving him a small peck on his lips before blasting him with the shower head.

[pinkiebieberpie]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER:

- he may not seem like it, but he is the biggest fan of cuddling,

- dean loves doing research with you, mostly because it always comes with lots of kisses,

- he is always touching you, he adores little, gentle and innocent touches,

- he also loves playing with your hair,

- and let's be honest he loves when you are playing with his hair; his head on your lap, just relaxing and you touching his hair, that's heaven for him,

- long car rides in the middle of the night!! talking about anything and everything, eating burgers at midnight, enjoying your time together,

- also making out in the impala ALL THE TIME; you sitting on top of dean, his hands on your ass, and of course it can get steamy,

- he loves cooking with you, when you two are alone in the bunker you always do that with a music, so you can sing and dance in the kitchen,

- dean is melting when you are on top of him during sex, he's a sub, but that doesn't mean he can't be more dominant,

- he just needs to be close to you, touching your hands, putting them above your head when he is the one making you feel good,

- this man loves taking photos of you: when you are doing chores around the bunker, when you are doing research, when you are reading, sleeping, when you are doing anything really,

- he also has a polaroid of you in his wallet,

- taking photos with you naked in bed after sex? yes.

- i was talking about cooking, but can you imagine baking with him?? "babe, can we make a pie?", "dean, again??", "i love pies and i love baking with you 😇😇" he's just a big, adorable baby sometimes,

- dean is an overprotective boyfriend even though you can take care of yourself,

- you are the one always winning rock-paper-scissors with him,

- he loves when you are wearing his clothes, especially when you are sleeping in his shirts,

- lazy mornings with him = breakfast in bed and big cups of coffee;

supernatural masterlist ++ tagging my sun @fleurfairie ☀️

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

Note: I found this in my docs and then I was like this could be an AU and people will hate me but here we are. I am heavily considering adding at least one other character to the AU bc I have an idea I don't think i'll ever get to full length with.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

He doesn’t belong. Not in this sleepy village. You can tell by the ring on his pinky, a golden signet that boasts of wealth not known to the farmers and lumberers of the desolate locale. His cheeks are red as if he didn’t expect the crisp autumn bite, though his jacket is unzipped to his chest, revealing a golf shirt with some designer logo sewn into the collar.

He tilts his head as he considers the glass display with shelves of bite-sized tarts and fragrant pies. You approach the other side, standing on tiptoes to see over it. His eyes slowly rise with your movement, a dimple in his cheek of amusement. You skirt around to the side of the display and lean over the lower counter so he can see you.

“Hello, you looking for something in particular?” you ask.

“Something sweet,” he answers, his crooked grin lingers as he lets his gaze wander back to the pies, “cherry… it’s been a while since I had a nice, juicy cherry pie.”

He licks his lips with the last word, reaching up to brush his fingertips over his bristly mustache. Your smile threatens to falter but you keep it on. He definitely isn’t from around here. Not with his accent or the hair slicked back so neatly.

“You want a slice?” you ask brightly. “Two bucks for a slice, twelve for the whole thing.”

“Hmm?” he raises a brow and sidles over to stand across from you.

“The pie,” you say as he puts a hand on the counter, leaning in as his other rests on his hip, “did you want some?”

His eyes fall down to the top of your apron, the red and white checker distracting him as you mindlessly flick the frill around the skirt. His smirk blooms fully and he stands straight.

“Wouldn’t mind a slice… of the pie,” he says as if it’s some joke. You don’t get it.

“Sure,” you say as you go behind the display and take out the cherry pie. You take it to the metal table behind you as you hear him, sense him looming along the counter. “You want anything to drink, sir? Some milk? Tea? Coffee? We do a combo for three-fifty.”

“Mm-mm-mm, a nice glass of milk would go nice with the pie,” he purrs, “they usually got you working all alone, sweetness?”

You look over your shoulder as you shovel a slice onto a plate, little flowers painted around the waffled trim.

“It’s my shop,” you say as you take the dish and grab a fork from the tray. You place it beside the till and type in the total, “cash or card, sir?”

“You own all this?” he leans his elbows on the counter, bent at the waist as he looks up at you.

“Sir,” you nod. 

“Card,” he stands and stretches his arms over him before he drops his hands, poking his fingers in his back pocket.

“I’ll get that milk,” you say as he swipes his card, “and I’ll bring this over to you if you wanna sit.”

“Ah, table service, I like it,” he says as the machine chirps and accepts his payment, “you country folk are all so… nice, aren’t you?”

“Suppose,” you say as you open the fridge and take out a small carton.

You glance over as he tucks away his wallet. He winks and walks away. He drapes his jacket over the chair by the window as you grab a glass and hurry over to the counter. You place the glass and carton on his table as he sits. You go back to the counter and bring him the pie.

“You visiting someone?” you ask curiously.

He looks at you pointedly. You hesitate. You forget that the city slickers don’t like questions, but everyone in the village knows each other, so your habit has you careless.

“Bought some house called ‘The Grove’,” he answers as he pushes the fork through the braided crust, “apparently it’s a big deal.”

“The Grove?” you can’t help your surprise, “wow.”

He scoffs, hardly amused, and slides the fork into his mouth, sucking off the pie as he watches you. He chews and swallows slowly as he hovers the silver over the oozing pie.

“You know it?”

“It’s pretty far out,” you say, “but yeah, everyone knows The Grove.”

“Sure,” he pokes a cherry so the juice leaks out, “this is good pie. You make all these?”

“It’s my recipe, but I think Melinda did that one.”

“Don’t get good home cooking like this in the city,” he plops the cherry in his mouth and his jaw tenses with the tartness, he hums in satisfaction. He looks you up and down once more, “don’t get that personal touch.”

“I’m glad you like it, I’ll let Melinda know,” you push your hands into the large pockets of your apron, a movement that further catches his attention.

“Sounds good, cupcake,” he opens the carton and pours the milk into the glass, “you do delivery?”

“Sundays,” you answer, “not that we get many requests but…”

“Personal deliveries,” he insists, “like you said, house is far away, and I’m new in town. Wouldn’t mind a familiar face and a nice pie.”

You rub your neck, “well I don’t usually do the deliveries.”

“Melinda?” he prompts.

“No, Terry takes them with the lumber.”

“Mm,” he frowns, “right… guess I’ll just make the trip in.”

“Okay,” you nod, “let me know if ya need anything else.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” he slithers as you slowly turn away.

You feel him watching you as you try to hide behind the counter. You take a cloth and the cleaner and start wiping down the back of the display. You hear the clink of his fork against the plate.

City people are always a bit odd, but he gives you a bad feeling.

[aykizcrypto]

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Beta Launch in April — Stay Tuned!

The PiWallet Beta version is set to launch in April, marking a major milestone in the development of the Pi Network’s Web3 and DeFi ecosystem. With an intuitive interface and cutting-edge security, PiWallet aims to be the go-to platform for Pi Coin holders and crypto enthusiasts.

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🚀 Get ready for a new era of decentralized finance on the Pi Network Blockchain! Follow us for updates and be among the first to experience PiWallet Beta in April.

🔔 Stay updated: usepiwallet.com

[makeyoumine69]

Call Me Babydoll 3

— PAIRING: DBF!Patrick Bateman x Innocent!Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: This game of cat and mouse between you and Patrick continues, and it seems that his patience is thinning. During a very heated makeout session, Patrick finds out about a shameful secret of yours.

— CONTAINS: Smut, Dom Patrick, semi-public masturbation (female receiving), Patrick being an asshole (as always), cursing, use of pet names (babydoll, etc), mentions of food, a little bit of corruption kink, Daddy kink, dry humping, dirty talk, nipple tugging/sucking/biting.

— WORDS: 3.3k

— A/N: Hey guys, thanks a lot for your support and patience! I'm so happy you like my story and I hope you enjoy this chapter too!🤞

— LINKS: [Ch.2]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]; [MASTERLIST]; [buy me a coffee]💓

Your favorite local café welcomed you with the invigorating aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Despite the fact that it was quite crowded tonight, you couldn't stop smiling because you had been dreaming about that delicious cup of cappuccino since the morning.

"I can't believe you dragged me into this shithole," Patrick scowled in disgust, ignoring all the curious glances from the group of women sitting at the table next to the exit. "I was ready for anything but this..."

"You could just send your driver after me if you didn't want to leave Manhattan," you unbuttoned your coat, took it off and casually handed it to Bateman — the poor guy didn't even know how to react, so he just took it and held it over his hand. "Why don't you buy me a cup of coffee? They make a great cappuccino and latte here."

You accompanied your words with a brief lick over your lips that Patrick couldn't miss, his nostrils flaring with heat. With a mischievous smile, you pointed in the direction of display cases full of various desserts like cakes, pies etc. 

"Do you want one?" You asked him, pressing a finger to your lips as you thought about the cake you wanted to try.

"No," he growled, but followed your gaze anyway, staring at the different cakes with a disapproving expression. "I'm on a diet, and I'd advise you to stop eating such junk food since…since your physique is far from good."

No matter how much Patrick tried to mock you, you wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing you affected by his words. You knew your body was not perfect, but you loved yourself anyway because it was your body and anyone who thought otherwise could fuck off.

"Oh yeah, you're right," you glared at him without ceasing to smirk. "But that didn't stop you from pouncing on me the day you visited my father."

"You can think what you want," Bateman replied, looking around with undisguised hostility at everyone who walked past you, especially guys who ogled you. "If it makes you feel better."

It appeared like you could continue this game of trying to cut each other with sharp words forever, but since you were quite hungry, you finally decided what you wanted to try today. Innocently batting your big eyelashes, you suddenly grabbed his hand, shaking noticeably at the size of his palm in comparison to yours, and led him to the barista who was standing on the other side of the counter.

"Hi, how can I help you?" A young girl asked you, her friendly smile widening as she saw Patrick behind your back. 

"I'd like a large cappuccino with a piece of chocolate cake," you murmured before locking eyes with Bateman — the difference in your heights almost forced you to stand on your toes, but as soon as you did, he gently wrapped his arm around your waist and rested his chin on top of your head, making your heart skip a beat. "Pat-Patrick, are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Do you have any whiskey? Scotch, brandy or anything?" He asked, his other hand already fumbling with his black leather wallet.

"Uh, no, sir," the barista replied, a little embarrassed. "But we do have amazing teas…lots of different kinds," the girl hiccuped when she saw Patrick's hand shamelessly tracing up to your breast, squeezing it through the soft fabric of your long sleeve, and you didn't even make a sound or try to push his hand away. "W-we also have juices..."

"Mhm, juices sound good to me," the undertone in his words set your body on fire and you couldn't fucking believe he was doing it right in front of the poor barista in the fucking café. "Do you have the orange juice? Is it fresh? I love fresh juice, it tastes so delicious."

Holy shit.

"Yes! Yes, of course we have orange juice," she started to dial on the cashier, her cheeks turning red by the second. "So a cappuccino, a piece of chocolate cake and a glass of juice?"

"That's right." You confirmed in a shaky voice and gently covered Patrick's hand to bring it back to your waist. 

Bateman didn't wait for the barista to say how much they should have paid, he just offered her a hundred dollar bill with a charming smile. "Keep the change, baby." He winked at her, watching your reaction from a distance, but you remained still. "Uh, thank you, sir. Please take a seat, I'll bring you your order."

At first, you thought you'd have to persuade Patrick to sit at a table, but to your surprise he didn't even say anything, just followed you until you chose the place you liked. In a few minutes, your coffee was in your hand and your mood brightened with the first sip of your favorite drink.

"Well, that barista is the only good thing about this shitty place," he grumbled, taking his drink and swiveling it in his hand to see the liquid splashing against the edges of the glass. "I hope I don't die trying this."

With that, he sipped the orange juice and looked over your shoulder to see some random girls at the table next to yours, gossiping and occasionally looking at you.

"This cake is amazing," you smiled as you took a bite. "Are you sure you don't want some?"

Your calm demeanor was oddly irritating to him, and Bateman just growled in reply before setting his glass back on the table with a thud. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yes," your tongue slipped along the fork, and you almost moaned with pleasure, this cake was so damn yummy. "Did I…miss something?"

"You did," Patrick suddenly took the cigar and the silver lighter out of his jacket pocket. "One thing I don't understand. Why do you visit such places, since your father is not a poor man?"

Frowning, you quickly cleared your throat before answering. "What does that have to do with my dad?" 

Patrick opened the lighter with a click and wrapped his lips around the cigar, twisting it nonchalantly before lighting it. "In this world," he paused, blowing several rings of smoke. "Money is power."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, suddenly losing all appetite. "Oh, please, don't lecture me. I have a job and I don't need anyone to give me money. Believe me."

"I see."

"Money is just a tool," you explained, his walnut eyes never straying from yours. "With which you can build something that can make you happy. But money itself cannot make you happy."

"What an interesting hypothesis," Bateman replied sarcastically, and then, puffing on his cigar, he reached into his pocket again and pulled out a small, soft box. "Here, I have something for you."

How primitive and obvious — you thought, but curiosity took over, and you quickly grabbed the box to open it. To your surprise, there was a beautiful pen with a color that reminded you of white gold.

"Oh," an unexpected chill swept over you like a bucket of cold water. "This is such a beautiful pen. But…but how did you…?" You took the pen in your hand, enjoying the pleasant touch of cool metal. "...my Dad told you this too?"

"What? That you wanted to be a writer and publish your own book?" He chuckled and put the cigar in the ashtray. "Well, he told me that you work in a publishing house, so I made some theories about your job and I thought you should at least have a good pen."

"At least?"

With a smug grin, he tilted his head to the side and ran his finger along the top of your hand holding a pen. "Do you like it?"

Embarrassed, you swallowed a lump in your throat and looked up at his arrogant face.

Damn it! Of course you like it, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't.

"Yes, Patrick," his name falling from your lips sounded like music to his ears. "This pen is amazing, really. I've never had a pen like this before!" You rumbled like a child who got a toy he dreamed about. "Can I try it?"

Bateman couldn't help but giggle and squeezed your hand a little before pulling away. "Sure, go ahead."

You didn't hesitate to take out your notebook, set it down on the table next to your coffee, and opened it to the last page you'd written. Carefully, you picked up the pen again and began to write. 

"I wonder what you girls write about in your diaries," he chirped with a boyish smile, rubbing his neck just above the mole. "Always wondered."

"It's not a diary, it's the notebook I use for my work," as you lifted your eyes to him, you noticed how relaxed and comforted Patrick looked now, casual even. "But I do have a diary…it helped me a lot during my darkest days."

There was a brief pause between the two of you after your words. Bateman wasn't in a hurry to resume the conversation, instead he continued to smoke, glancing at the window from time to time.

"The rain could start at any moment, if you don't want to get wet," he paused and a nervous laugh escaped from his chest. "I mean, if you don't want to get your clothes wet, we'd better go home soon."

Oh my God, why was he so fucking unbearable?

"Okay, just a minute," you admired your handwriting for a moment before rolling up your sleeves to make yourself more comfortable. "I'm shocked at how this pen fits in my hand."

Patrick's eyes narrowed as he saw the beautiful tattoo on your forearm. "I never knew you had a tattoo."

"Really?" You pressed the tip of the pen to the corner of your lips and threw one leg over the other. "That's not the only tattoo I have," you could see the interested glint in his brown eyes, so you decided to continue. "Have you at least noticed my nose ring?"

"I'm trying to pretend you don't have it," he urged, putting his cigar out on the ashtray. "To be honest, tattoos and piercings and stuff like that are not…my thing."

That was not surprising, so you just hummed and continued writing. "Yeah, I know guys like you only date blonde bimbos with fake tits."

Bateman chuckled softly at your words. "Oh, Babydoll, you don't have to be jealous. It's just that high society women don't spoil their perfect bodies with stuff like that." He pointed at your tattooed forearm before standing up to put on his coat. "'C'mon, it's getting late, and I've got a lot of things to do."

"Like what?"

"This," he paused as he buttoned his coat. "It's none of your business, sweetheart."

"'Mmm, your poor girlfriend is probably waiting for you," you clicked your tongue before tucking the notebook into your bag. "Just don't tell her you were here with me, or she won't let you cross the threshold of her apartment again. Patrick Bateman visited the cheap café in Brooklyn. How did it happen?"

Bateman stared at you like a cat ready to pounce, though his face remained straight. "The limo's outside, I'll wait for you there."

No, you were not disappointed, you were furious at how masterfully he thwarted all your attempts to needle him. At the end of the day, he was just treating you like a silly little girl, but you had your own leverage because you knew that he wanted you, that he thirsted for you, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual mask that he always put on when he was in public. Yes, yes. It was a dangerous game to play, but the thrill of the rush was so tempting, the irresistible urge to dive into the abyss of the unknown. It was crazy, and you knew that one day you would burn like a moth flying to the light, and you could only ask yourself — was the game worth the candles?

Inside the limousine, you couldn't take your eyes off of the beautiful interior; the luxury was almost palpable in the air.

"Is this your first time in a limo?" Bateman asked when he noticed your curious look. 

"Uh, to be honest, I used to ride in pretty expensive cars with Dad, but not the limo," you turned to face him, his side profile looking amazing in the dim light. "And you were probably born for cars like this, right?"

His deep chuckle echoed around the car. Cautiously, Patrick closed the distance between the two of you and placed his warm palm on your knee, stroking it as gently as he could. 

"My family is fabulously wealthy, it's true," he began, turning in your direction, a broad smile forming on his perfectly sculpted face when he noted that you didn't try to remove his hand. "But that doesn't mean it's the only necessary condition to become successful."

"It does," you replied immediately, fidgeting in your seat as his hand slid up along your inner hip. "Because if you are born in such a family — all doors are open for you, you can apply to any college, any university...even if I don't agree that money is happiness, money is, as I said, a key that opens many doors."

"But not yours?" He whispered into your ear, scorching your tender skin.

"W-what?" You hiccuped and sensed your heart pounding against your chest.

For a brief moment, the two of you found yourselves looking into each other's eyes, the surrounding air as hot as if the limousine had suddenly driven around the mouth of a volcano. As Patrick pulled you closer, you understood that the source of this unbearable heat was his body — so strong and huge. In the blink of an eye, your lips locked together in a thirsty kiss, and Bateman immediately parted your mouth wider, sliding his tongue inside to take the lead in this lewd game.

"Mhm," you murmured through the kiss, wrapping your trembling hands around his neck while he worked to undo your coat. "Pat..."

Patrick didn't let you finish whatever you wanted to say because the blazing desire had already consumed his mind, and now it was your turn to get scared. You thought you could play with this man, test his limits and try to provoke him, but now you ended up writhing on the seats of the expensive limousine as his chiseled arms explored your small frame so delightfully, kneading and squeezing in all the right places.

"Ugh, you're so needy," he grabbed your throat possessively, pulling you closer, marking you with his tongue, his lips, his teeth. "You should see yourself, honey," Bateman murmured, alternating between licking your cheek and nibbling your neck. "So innocent, yet so hot, and all for me."

With one swift motion, he removed your coat and forced you to mount him, groping your ass without shame. Right now you didn't care about the driver who might see you doing this, you didn't care about all your stupid attempts to taunt him, because everything ended up exactly as you planned, even if Patrick might think otherwise, but let it be.

Growling in a raspy voice, Patrick lifted your long sleeve to quickly get under your bra and damn it, his mouth felt amazing on your engorged nipple and you couldn't deny that you had been thinking about this sensation all these days since that dirty episode in your bedroom.

"Patrick," you moaned, bringing him closer, his strong tongue swirling around your little tip as he stared at you from under his beautiful lashes. "A-aww, that feels so..."

"Good?" He asked in amusement, unbuttoning his coat. Then he grabbed your hips to make you grind against his hard groin, the friction making you wild. 

"Yes, y-yes." You hitched from the hard slap on your ass. 

"Arrghh, such a nasty Babydoll," Bateman left a painful hickey on your nipple and held you close in his sturdy arms, forcing you to move faster. "Is this what you want, huh? You want Daddy's cock so bad?"

Oh shit.

You wanted to say "yes," but instead you just whimpered against his mouth, not willing to ruin the moment with a confession that you were a virgin. 

"Daddy," you purred suddenly as he cupped your pussy through the tight fabric of your jeans. "Oh God...did I really say that?"

His devilish grin spoke for itself. "That sounded so good," he kissed you hard on the lips before returning to your swollen breasts, his sneaky hand beginning to unzip your jeans with expert ease. "I liked that."

Having said that, Patrick pressed you closer, lifting his hips to meet yours so that your mound rubbed against his fully erected cock, and you could swear to God —  it was so damn huge that your inner muscles were already cramping in pain.

"Babydoll," he crooned in a sweet voice when he noticed you were getting anxious as he slipped his hand inside your pants, outlining your oozing lower lips through your soaked panties. "Fuck, I can smell your arousal in the air."

"Aww!" Your high-pitched wail bounced off the interior of the limo from the sudden touch of his thumb on your bare skin, especially your throbbing clit. "Pat-Patrick...Patrick!"

"Shhhh, honey," he cooed to you, his voice laced with pure passion. "Daddy knows what he's doing...mmm...gonna make you feel so good."

Paralyzed by the new sensations, you arched your back into his face, letting him take your hard peak into his mouth once again, while his thin fingers rubbed invisible semi-circles into your bundle of nerves, smearing your flavor around your folds. 

"Good girl...you're so good for me," he praised you between sucks on your nipples, watching you tremble on top of him. "Let it go, Babydoll, I know you want it."

Fucking hell! How in the world did this man manage to treat you so right, as if he played you like his favorite musical instrument, knowing exactly where to press.

"Daddy," you couldn't even hear your own voice, and you didn't realize that you instinctively started to hump his hand, allowing the blissful rapture to wash over you at any moment. "I—I…! This is so good—I…!"

"I know, I know," Patrick brought you closer, gently kissing your collarbone and increasing the intensity of his rubbing motions. "You're literally riding my fucking hand," he groaned, watching you throw your head back, and then he could feel your whole body shaking so violently that he had to hold you to keep you from falling. " Just like that, Babydoll, just like that."

A soothing touch on your lower back seemed to have the opposite effect, fueling your orgasm, you screamed loudly, but there was no sound. "P-Patrick...mhm!" You hugged him like a lifeline, burying your nose in his soft brown curls. Everything felt so perfect, but then the sharp pain cut through your body like a flash of lightning as Bateman tried to shove his fingers into your moist cleft, and you even had to claw at your own skin to prevent yourself from crying. "STOP!"

Patrick literally froze and stopped doing everything as he realized that he had just found some resistance with his digits. "What the fuck?"

The limo was still moving, and for a few seconds you both remained silent. Only after almost a minute did you dismount him and get back to your seat, quickly zipping up your jeans and adjusting your top. All the while, Bateman was looking at you with a strange expression that was hard to read — a mixture of shock, irritation and lust.

"(Y/n), talk to me." Patrick raised his voice after cleaning his fingers by licking off your sweet juices. "You're a fucking virgin? And you didn't tell me?"

Yeah, this time you actually fucked things up.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[sgiandubh]

Although MPCs website clear about bring a business which contributes a portion of profits post admin costs, Sam regularly in videos and in print interviews misrepresents. He's says my charity abd he says 59% of signup fee goes to charity. If there is a problem l, it's on Sam, who according to original members, basically sold MPC control, in 2017. Your statement of knowing what he's doing with his MPC, is questionable, post corporate change of MPC. It's not just his alone. MPC has sketchy history, since Alex's involvement, and the rumors, look more as truths that a good portion of the administrative costs go to Alex pre-whisky, for a working, guaranteed salary before sales came in. It also begs the question, if Sam is interested in supporting charity with a portion of income sales, why hasn't 10% of whisky sales went to charity partners? The whisky is part of the GGC, Sam and Alex's business. Why wouldn't he plug a Newman Products design? Maybe he's not as interested in charity?

Dear MPC Anon,

It has always been 50%, which is logical. 59% sounds like a demented Asian astrologist suggestion - but you might be unfamiliar with Burmese recent history, so I shall give you a pass, on that one.

Who are the 'original members' who told you MPC was sold? To whom was it sold? When did that happen? I need paperwork to support this statement: the current corporate documents still list ONE officer - pay away from your wallet to find out it's very probably SRH: I am not doing it for you.

Like it or not, Norouzi's involvement in MPC is a reality since at least its creation. You will have to prove me the 'sketchy' part with much more than a stinking grenade thrown by Anon or fandom illiterate gossip.

I will have to see contracts between MPC, AN, SH proving that pre-whisky launching costs of The Sassenach were drawn from the MPC accounts. I will also have to see bank and accounting documents proving so. According to US law, I would also have to be a Court and have enough reasons to subpoena these people and entities to show me those. Stop spreading the shite written by Pufflander once upon a time and ask Puffy, in her retreat, what the fuck did she do with the crowdfunded money for the Harassment PI Report (you know, *urv and co). Now that would be a really interesting question, right? No answer? Bad day, baby. Bad day.

Whisky sales under the umbrella of Great Glen Company LLC, a different legal entity with no charitable mission, were never designed to represent a charitable endeavor. I think you know the difference between a charity and a company, right? Suggesting he should give 10% of all his earnings to charity is akin to a church tithe. This argument is, of course, ridiculous, in the business world, unless there is an explicit and public vow to do so, with a particular company's benefits.

Newman's Own and the Newman's Own Foundation represent Paul Newman's personal commitment to give away 100% of Newman's Own LLC profits to charity: the Foundation serves to direct the funds to the projects its trustees deem the most appropriate, according to the Foundation's values.

This is a different story and I also hope you know the difference between Great Glen Company, a business who wants to remain a business and a ground-breaking CSR commitment like Paul Newman's. Great Glen Company and MPC are separate projects - AN's loud involvement in both does not help, though, especially with an uneducated bigot, such as yourself, Anon.

Assuming he must give 100% of all his profits to charity is absolutely ridiculous, Anon. Why don't you give away all the profits of your lemonade stand to charity and set a blazing, luminous example in this fandom?

Unless you quickly substantiate what you wrote in anger on your phone, with links, facts and names, I am forced to tell you to kindly, slowly, but surely...

FUCK OFF MY PAGE!

[Later edit:] Should I start a US Tax Law 101 course for you, Anon? To me, this rather crude company/charity montage sounds legit. Also, MPC is not a charity, as shown in my previous post.

[assortedseaglass]

🌟Mistletoe | Yuletide🌟

Michael Gavey x Fem!Reader

Summary: Michael's Christmas plans are scuppered, but a chance encounter lifts his hopes for the New Year.

Content: Fluff, Language.

Yuletide Masterlist

December 15th. The night of the Catton Christmas party in Brasenose College. Term ended a week ago, but the prospect of partying with the university’s hottest boy and his gaggle of gorgeous followers was too delicious to pass up. Freshers to third-years clamoured to rub shoulders with the prime ministers and business men of tomorrow. Any way to get your foot in the door, and maybe some Christmas action too.

The single-pane windows of the old college dorm room rattled to the beat of NOW XMAS, and each time the door opened a pair of drunk undergrads tumbled into the quadrangle.

The latest two, a straw-haired girl in a Juicy Couture tracksuit and a burly boy wearing a rugby polo, stumbled from the old double doors leading to the common room. On their way, between sloppy kiss and over the top giggles, they bumped into a solitary figure.

“Sorry, mate,” the drunk boy said, watching the other young man through alcohol-heavy eyes. The girl beside him eyed the stranger and snorted. “Merry Christmas.”

Hands tucked into his pockets, scarf wrapped neatly around his neck, Michael Gavey stumbled. The pair got no reply, only a cold glance of annoyance as he made for his dorm.

Gold, string-light bulbs decorated Brasenose quadrangle, tacky Christmas trees were perched in various student windows, and the saccharine chorus of Band Aid 20 was shouted from the common room.

Michael didn’t hate Christmas. He quite enjoyed the fuss from his aunties and the jumpers his grandmother bought him. His mum snuck extra roasties onto his plate and his dad made a point to buy him each year’s Telegraph Quiz Book. This year would surely be even better. The pride on his family’s faces, each asking about his first term at Oxford. First one in his family to go to university and he gets into Oxford.

It was precisely because he liked Christmas that this one was so miserable. Michael was neither surprised nor upset when he checked his pigeonhole that morning to see no invitation to the Catton Christmas part. Him and Oliver. A pair of nobodies.

He took the new Nokia his dad got him for his A Levels out of his pocket. No texts. Punching the numbered keys, he sent one to Oliver.

Back at BC. Mince pies and port ready.

The corridor to his dorm room was empty. With the turn of his key, he opened the door. The room was cold. The ancient radiator was ticking into life and the old windows were beginning to fog with condensation. On top of his stack of maths textbooks a bottle of unopened port gleamed.

Turning on his bedside lamp, Michael gathered two dusty glasses his mother insisted he pack with him, and from his Tesco bag produced a pack of mince pies. He placed them on a paper plate and emptied the rest of the carrier bag (wallet, keys, pencil case, workbook) next to the E45 cream and battered copy of GH Hardy’s biography.

The Nokia buzzed aggressively on the table. Removing his scarf, Michael checked the screen. It was from Oliver. He unlocked the phone and checked the small envelope icon.

Something’s come up, sorry.

Michael slumped on the bed. His thumb hovered over the keypad.

Get a better offer, did you?

He deleted the text, locked the screen and threw it on the cheap duvet.

The others would still be at the pub. He could just go back and meet them there. Could, were it not for his pride. It just wasn’t the same, a group of people forced together, as opposed to those who found each other.

The pub was full of his fellow mathematics students. Spotty, eager to please and reeking of desperation to prove themselves. Michael didn’t need to. He watched as they fought for Professor Mathison’s attention, keen to discuss tutorial projects and career prospects. Mathison was already keenly aware of Michael, judging by the way his jaw dropped when Michael recited the Lagrangian form to the last letter.

With Oliver it was different. They were two outsiders, making their way in a world entirely foreign to their own, their intellect their only way in. Now it seemed the friendship Michael was working so hard to cultivate with Oliver was slipping away.  

He stared at the empty glasses. Fuck it. Pouring a little too much port in one of the glasses, Michael stuffed a mince pie into his mouth, grabbed another and made for the door.

The air was crisp, but mild for mid-December. The music of the Catton party across the quadrangle had mellowed, and through the misty windows Michael could make out shapes dancing close together, swaying slowly.

A pang of jealousy twisted in his naval and he twitched awkwardly. He wondered what it would be like, having another body pressed against his. Or rather, to have someone want to be that close to him. His mind flashed to the French girl in tutorial. She’d pressed her leg against his at the pub when Mathison mentioned a partnered project for the new year, and when he’d looked down, he saw her fingers brushing the cuff of his jumper. He’d flinched away.

Everyone was doing it. Quick flings with no regard for consequence. He supposed he could do it too. With the French girl, or the girl with agoraphobia. Lord knows, she was getting as much action as he was. But there was something in his studious nature, his desire for knowledge, that meant he had to be consumed by knowing someone fully, or nothing at all.

Perching his bony bottom on the cold concrete step under an old brick archway, Michael took a gulp of port and began on the mince pie. He took the top off, ate it, and thought of his grandfather, and how he would add brandy butter before replacing the pastry cover. He ate the rest quickly and sipped his port slowly, thinking over the last term. The successes; far and away the best student on the course, and the failures; one (?) friend. It was as he did this that the door behind him opened.

“Shit, sorry! Didn’t see you there!” You hadn’t done anything wrong. Not opened the door on his back or tripped over him. Michael waved his hand noncommittally and without answer. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”

He looked up at this. An old grey coat at least a size too big was wrapped around you, a scarf pulled up to your nose and muffling your voice. Michael couldn’t make much of you out, just the eyes peering down at him from above the scarf, but he could tell you were beaming at him. Why?

He gestured to the cold step. You sat beside him, gave him a bright smile that didn’t falter when he stared at you a little too long, and turned to look at the night beyond the small archway.

“Pretty, aren’t they? All the lights?” Michael didn’t respond. He shifted his body slightly away from yours and took another sip of port. You weren’t deterred. “You a Billy-no-mates too then?”

“It’s Norman-no-mates-”

“I don’t think it matters.” You cut him off. “Well?”

Michael turned his face to you. You were still watching the lights but sensed him looking at you. In turn, you looked back at him, unabashed and direct.

“I might have mates waiting inside.”

“You might, but you don’t. You’re out here drinking wine,”

“Port.”

“Port’s just fortified wine. Drinking on your own when everyone’s off partying.”

Michael didn’t blink as he watched you. You weren’t being cruel by making him feel bad for his social ineptitude. Nor were you prying into what it was that made him so deplorable to seemingly everyone in college. No. You were just stating the facts. Michael loved facts.

“NFI.”

“Snap.” You held out your hand and gave him your name. Michael’s heart didn’t leap, but it did give a strange sort of jolt.

“Michael Gavey.” He shook yours and his mouth twitched when you gave him a firm smile.

“What about you? Why are you sitting on a cold step with a stranger?”

“Mate’s back there screaming at her fella cos he necked some girl in Exeter after a Hooch too many.”

“Let me guess, Business Management?”

“The very same.”

There was a contented silence a while. Michael sipped his port and watched you from the corner of his eye. The fingerless gloves you wore were fraying a little. Everything looked second hand. From your slightly battered Mary Janes and baggy jeans to the bag by your feet. Even the scarf still wrapped around your neck. The hair there was bunching under the fabric and a few wisps kept sticking to your lip gloss. Too pretty to be sitting with him, and too rough around the edges to be the usual Catton-fodder.

Michael licked his lips. “What are you reading?” Please be something good.

“Computer Sciences.” Merry fucking Christmas. “You?”

“Maths.”

“Ah, we could have done with you at the pub quiz! ‘How many birds in total are there in the twelve days o-’”

“One-hundred and eighty-four.” Michael rattled off as though the answer was a grocery list. You stared at him, an impressed smile playing at the corner of your mouth. Michael’s heart vaulted that time. He wanted more.

“Ask me anything. I can do any sum.”

You eyed him with barely supressed glee. “Twelve times thirty-one.”

“Three-hundred and seventy-two. Come on, ask me something harder.”

“Three-hundred and seventy-two times eight.”

“Harder.”

“Times twenty-three?”

“Harder.”

You almost shouted with excitement. “Three-hundred and seventy-two times forty-seven!”

“Seventeen-thousand, four hundred and eighty-four.”

You giggled and let out a low whistle. “Fuck me,”

Yes please.

A broad flush spread across Michael’s cheeks and he licked his lips again. “I can also-”

“Better check madam is ok,” your eyes indicated behind you as you took you phone from your pocket. The white light from the small screen was garish amongst the soft golds of the Christmas lights, and Michael’s heart sank as he watched you scroll through your contacts list. So many names. He’d give anything to be among.

He didn’t pay attention to anything you were saying as you chatted to your friend. The shine of your lip gloss beneath the fairy lights was too mesmerising. Michael raised his port glass to his lips, took a sip and let the glass linger there as you ended your call. He was entranced.

“Love you, mate. Alright, chat tomorrow.” You sighed as you hung up and looked at Michael. “Home for me, I think.”

As you stood, Michael did too, pulling his trousers up and tucking his hands into his pockets. “Nice to meet you, Michael.” You shook his free hand again and took the port from the other. He watched, agog, as you downed it in one. “Graham’s? Very nice.” You passed him the empty glass and began making your way to the end of the archway. He followed you like a shadow.

At the end of the passageway into the old quadrangle you turned to face him. “What are you doing for Christmas, Michael?”

“Home,” his voice was unnaturally high and he coughed. “Home, to see family but not much else.”

“And new year?”

“Seeing some boring old school friends then back here before term st-starts-starts,” you were leaning towards him. With no hint of shyness, and perhaps a little too forcefully, you kissed him. You pulled back, smiling.

“What was that for?” The surprise of your lips on his made him shout, and it sounded more hysterical than genuine shock and curiosity.

“Mistletoe,” you stated simply, pointing at the small poesy hanging from the archway.

Michael coughed. “Of course, yeah. Thank you.” He made an odd movement and almost clicked his heels. You laughed again, turning into the dark night.

“See you in the new year, Michael.” Your voice echoed off the old stone walls. Just as Michael expected, you sounded so certain. In all your ten minutes of knowing each other, he’d learned that about you. The statement wasn’t speculation or conjecture. It was a fact. Michael loved facts.

Merry Christmas everyone! I hope it's been a kind and calm one. H x

The usual suspects: @arcielee @targaryenrealnessdarling @theoneeyedprince @ewanmitchellcrumbs @ellrond @cyeco13 @babyblue711 @exitpursuedbyavulcan @humanpurposes @myfandomprompts @barbieaemond @anjelicawrites

[coff33andb00ks]

Recipe for the Perfect Christmas 6/12

One part small town girl coming home from the big city. One part handsome stranger. Five parts lifelong friends (don't forget to include their partners). One part stubborn father. A dash of Christmas spirit. Part: Six of Twelve Pairing: Oscar Piastri x ofc (with appearances from Mark Webber. Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Esteban Ocon, Pato O'Ward, and George Russell) wc: 5,606 warnings: none soundtrack: spotify ⋆❆⋆ apple music nav: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve a/n: we're halfway there!!

The town green had been transformed. The outer perimeter was lined with booths. Some large, some small, all festooned with lights and tinsel and garland. There were handknit items, handmade decorations, homemade jams and jellies, jewelry, aprons, knickknacks, candies, as well as the treats from the bakery. In the center of the green was a stand selling cocoa, cider, and coffee, and the mayor and sheriff had put up a tent with heat for those who needed to get out of the cold air for a few moments. There was a bandstand, and as Natalie began setting out boxes of cookies and brownies she heard the twang of an acoustic guitar start to play. A few parents had come up with a scavenger hunt for kids, and each one that she saw was clutching a paper showing the items they had to find before they could return to the game booths and exchange it for a prize.

“No, no, the garland is crooked,” Franco insisted.

Ollie huffed with annoyance, stepping back from the booth. “No? It’s fine.”

“I spent all day Sunday doing garland at my girlfriend’s house, I know when it’s crooked. Look, I’ll show you.”

Natalie glanced up from arranging the pies. Franco was pulling out his phone and moved closer to Ollie, showing him something, photos of his garland hanging skills she assumed.

Ollie’s brow furrowed. “That’s your girlfriend’s house?”

Franco nodded. “Yes? But look at–”

“That’s my girlfriend’s house.”

The two began bickering, showing things on their phones to each other, and Natlie raised her eyebrows when they suddenly stopped. Not saying anything when they walked away, Ollie’s head bent low so he and Franco could continue talking, she shook her head and adjusted the display to her liking.

"Working hard?" a voice cooed.

Pasting a smile on her face, she turned to look at the three women who approached the booth. "Hi, Kaye. Tabitha. Kathy. What can I interest you in?"

"I suppose I'll take two dozen chocolate chip," Kathy said. "How are you liking working for your dad?"

"It's great." Natalie placed the two boxes in front of the woman and held her hand out for the money.

"I heard Pierre dumped you," Kaye said sweetly.

She sucked in a breath. "We ended the engagement, yes."

"Because you got fired?" Tabitha looked up from examining a pecan pie.

"Guess he didn't want to marry a deadbeat," Kathy said in a stage whisper.

"If you're not going to buy the brownies you're holding, please put them down," Natalie said, hating the brittleness that crept into her voice.

"Yeah, sure." Kathy shrugged and opened her wallet.

"This money is going to Mark, right?" Tabitha asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're unemployed." The woman shrugged.

"And that instantly makes me a thief?"

"Whoops, excuse me."

She panicked at the sight of Oscar, smiling and apologizing for bumping into Kaye. For some reason, she didn't want him to be around the three women. Kathy and Kaye were sisters, Tabitha their cousin, and the trio had deemed themselves better than everyone way back in elementary school. Natalie had always tried to be polite, but it had been apparent at Tabitha's twelfth birthday party that neither of them had ever liked her. When, feeling pretty for one of the first times in her adolescence, she had worn a white dress and Kaye had spilled chocolate ice cream down the back, then had gone around telling the other party guests that Natalie had had an accident. It had taken two years before the teasing and name-calling to fade away, and even now Natalie hated the word 'poop'. Then, when she had shyly started talking to one of the boys in high school that everyone thought was cute, Kathy had swooped in, and the next thing Natalie had known, Tyler and Kathy had been a couple, and then they had gone to college together, and then they had gotten married.

"Hey," Oscar greeted her, flashing that beautiful smile in her direction. Sidestepping around the women, he slipped into the booth and handed her a cup. "I got you some coffee."

"Thank you," she said, more grateful than the words could express.

"Already getting charity," Tabitha hissed under her breath.

"It's a cup of coffee," Oscar said. "Hardly charity."

"It's okay. Everyone feels sorry for Natalie." Kaye flicked a lock of dark hair over her shoulder. "Especially now that she's been fired and had to move back home."

"I know it's embarrassing, Nattie, but at least you had a home to come back to."

Next to her, she felt Oscar stiffen. Taking a sip of coffee to keep from snapping at the women, she closed her eyes at the taste of sugar and powdered creamer. He'd remembered. That touched her more than his presence did and she drew in a breath, opening her eyes to see three faces smirking at her.

"Having daddy take care of you is better than nothing," Kathy said.

"Wow," Oscar breathed. He cleared his throat. She heard him inhale, then he paused.

Tabitha snickered. "Good thing he never remarried."

"You know," Oscar began, and Natalie almost didn't recognize his voice. It was hard, cold, a contrast to the warmth of the arm that slid around her shoulders. "I think it's better to attempt something and fail, through no fault of your own, than it is to be a bitter bitch because you never had the fucking nerve to try."

Three pairs of eyes blinked in unison. Three smiles faded into thin lines. Then, from behind them, Natalie heard the sweetest sound.

"Nattie cookies!"

She loved that nickname now. Unfazed when Tabitha slapped some cash onto the counter and picked up a pie, she smiled when Max, Eve, and their kids approached. "Hey," she greeted, blinking back the unshed tears. "Are you guys having fun?"

Lucas's head didn't reach the top of the counter but, when she leaned, she could see him staring at the tower of cookies Franco had created. "Wow," he breathed, unknowingly echoing his uncle. "Cookies…"

"I've got a special one just for you," she said, taking another sip of coffee before handing the cup to Oscar. His eyes met hers and he tipped his head in question. Nodding, she mouthed thank-you before turning back to the customers. "And one for your sister."

"Cookie?" Lucas asked hopefully, jerking on his father's sleeve.

"We're getting cookies, I promise," Max said, lifting him up.

"Let me get it." Natalie ducked behind the counter, easily locating the two boxes she had set aside for Grace and Lucas. Checking which one was which, she popped up and held them out. "I hope you like gingerbread."

"Oh my god," Eve said, leaning to look at the one Grace accepted. "That looks just like the snowsuit you wore last weekend."

"Did you decorate these?" Max asked, wincing when Lucas squealed in his ear.

"Yeah."

"They're great," he said, grinning. "How much?"

She shook her head. "On the house."

"Come on. How much?" he asked.

"You're really insisting on paying for them," she sighed.

"He doesn't easily part with money," Oscar said. "Take it while you can."

"A dollar each," she finally said, rolling her eyes.

"That doesn't sound—" Max grunted when Eve elbowed him in the side. Reaching for his wallet, he sighed while pulling out two dollar bills.

Natalie accepted them, then handed one to Grace and one to Lucas. "I'm having a flash sale," she told them. "All cookies and brownies are a dollar a dozen."

"Shut up," Eve told her husband before he could argue.

Max rolled his eyes. "Fine, I'll take twelve dozen."

"Sorry, the sale is open only to customers between the ages of…" Natalie leaned close to Oscar. "How old is Lucas?"

"Two."

"Grace?"

"Five."

"Thanks," she whispered. "The sale is open only to customers between the ages of two and six."

"Me two," Lucas said, grinning. "Cookies?"

"Sugar cookies?" she guessed, already reaching for a box. He nodded, eyes wide, and she handed them over. After a few seconds and a whisper from his father, he placed the dollar bill in her hand. "Thanks so much for coming, sir."

"I want brownies, please," Grace said, holding out her dollar.

"Excellent choice, ma'am, I can vouch for the deliciousness of this batch myself. Don't tell my boss, but I sneaked about ten to eat when he wasn't looking." Natalie reached for a paper bag and snapped it open, then placed the brownies inside. "Thank you so much, miss, Webber's Bakery always appreciates such wonderful customers."

Grace giggled while accepting the bag. "Thank you, Miss Natalie."

Natalie opened another bag and handed it to Max for Lucas's cookies. "Are you guys having fun?"

"It's great," Eve enthused, taking a sip from the cup she held. "I can't wait to ditch these guys so I can really buy some stuff."

Max looked slightly panicked. “What stuff?”

“Oh, a little of this. Little of that.” Eve practically beamed. “I have to get gifts for the girls at work.”

“The girls at… Honey, you work in an office of fifty people,” Max pointed out.

“It’s my last Christmas with them though, I need to do something.”

"She's got a point," Oscar conceded.

"I always do."

"Santa!" Grace shrieked. "Can we go see Santa?"

"Yeah, let's go," Max sighed, easing the box of cookies from Lucas's grip and slipping it into the bag. "See you later."

"I'm right behind you," Eve promised. She waited until her husband and kids had gotten a few feet away before looking at Natalie. "Do you have a chocolate pecan pie?"

"I think there's one left…" Natalie turned to look, but saw Oscar already moving to do so. "Is that your favorite?"

"No, I usually hate them, but right now I'm craving one so bad I could scream." Eve reached into her pocket for her wallet. "Oh, and a coconut one, too."

"Anything else?" Oscar asked.

"Um…" Eve looked over the offerings on the counter. "Three dozen snickerdoodles."

"Jeez, Eve," Oscar muttered.

"It's Christmas," she defended, handing money to Natalie. While Oscar bagged up her order, she looked at Natalie knowingly. "What happened with the three unwise bitches?"

"Oh, them," Natalie sighed, slipping the money into the cashbox. "It was nothing. Well, okay, they were being bitches. But Oscar shut them up right before you came over."

"What did he do?"

"He defended me," she said softly, glancing at him. Fighting the urge to sigh, she turned back to Eve and saw a knowing expression on the woman's face.

“That’s how Max sucked me in.”

"What do you mean?"

"At first you just think he's kinda cute… Maybe a little hot. A bit of a dork. But nice."

Natalie grinned. "Okay…"

"Then you start seeing he's a great guy. Around the same time he stands up for you or someone else and it hits you." Eve sighed and took a sip of her drink.

"What, exactly?"

"He's nice and hot and will definitely bang you like a screen door in a hurricane."

Natalie blinked. "Um…"

"And then the next thing you know, you're two months pregnant, getting married, and you're so ridiculously happy you make yourself sick."

She had no idea what to say to that. "Oh?"

"The sick part might have been the pregnancy." Eve shrugged and took another sip of her drink.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Oscar asked, handing over the bag.

"How hot my husband is."

"Mommy!"

"Gotta go. Thanks so much. See you later."

Natalie watched the family head off, a lump forming in her throat at the sight of Max and Eve's hands finding each other despite the two children. They fit right in with the community, she thought, looking on as they stopped to greet everyone.  Her gaze moved to other people passing. Smile after smile. And, from Mr. Kelly's booth, she could hear the jangling of bells.

"You alright?" Oscar asked gently, touching her arm.

She turned to him, smiling warmly. "I am now."

The rest of the evening went relatively smoothly. Ollie and Franco never came back, and when she told Oscar about what they’d discovered he rolled his eyes, then stuck around, helping her bag items and going on coffee runs. Then, when it slowed, he insisted she take a walk around the green and see what everyone else was selling.

Her first stop was the next booth for a cup of hot cocoa. Hearing familiar voices behind her, she turned to see Franco and Ollie returning, their bickering apparently forgotten now. They were laughing and relaxed. At least, until Oscar saw them and called out to them.

She couldn’t hear what he said, but she could see the boys’ faces as he spoke. Sipping her hot cocoa, she looked on as the two moved to enter the booth, her eyebrows raising when Oscar walked over to join her.

“Hot chocolate, no marshmallows,” he requested, paying the teenager behind the counter.

“What did you say to them?” Natalie asked, gesturing towards her booth.

Oscar glanced back, then flashed her a sheepish smile. “Told them to cut their bullshit and do the work they’re getting paid to do.”

At first you just think he's kinda cute… A bit of a dork. But nice.Then you start seeing he's a great guy. Around the same time he stands up for you or someone else and it hits you.

She did not want to imagine him banging her like a screen door. At all. She wasn’t ready to be a screen door. But she knew, deep down, that if either of them intitated it, he’d satisfy her in ways Pierre never had.

“Thank you,” she murmured, falling into step next to him.

“Sorry if I overstepped. But you’ve got enough to worry about without those two acting stupid.”

“No, it’s fine. I need to learn to stand up for myself, I know.” She paused, looking at a display of finely knitted baby hats. Selecting two for Maddie’s twins, she also grabbed a new scarf for her father.

Oscar slipped the bag from her grasp after she paid. “Maybe you do. But it’s okay for others to do it for you sometimes.”

“You sound just like Dad,” she laughed softly.

“High praise indeed,” Oscar quipped.

Arms loaded, Oscar jogged up the steps onto the front porch. He shifted most of the bags over so he could unlock and open the door, greeting Penny when she slipped out, tail wagging and giving an excited little whine.

"Hey, girl, let me get this stuff inside," he said when she whined again. Carrying the bags through to the kitchen, he dropped them on the counter. He could hear Penny's claws lightly clicking against the floor as she followed him, and finally turned to give her a proper greeting. "I was gone for an hour, did you miss me that much?"

Penny's mouth fell open, her tongue lolling out while he rubbed and stroked her slightly shaggy fur. Lifting her paws to his chest when he squatted down, she sniffed his face, giving his chin a lick.

"I missed you, too. And yes, I did stop by the bakery for a snack," he said, ruffling the fur behind her ears. "I got you some treats, okay?"

She whined and gave his chin another lick before he straightened up, then turned and left the kitchen. About to put away the groceries, he remembered he had left the front door open and sighed, following the dog. He called to her as he reached the door. When she whined he stepped out and saw the package next to the rocking chair. Penny pawed at it, gave it a sniff, then apparently decided it was uninteresting and went back inside. Oscar bent to pick up the box, reading the label while going back into the house.

He recognized the handwriting, and the overuse of packing tape. The plain brown box was stamped all over with blue and white snowflakes, his name and address filling the shipping label in the familiar calligraphic style. He knew in an instant what it was and carried it to the kitchen, making himself wait until the groceries had been put away and Penny had received a handful of treats before getting a box cutter to slice through the tape.

A Christmas card rested on top of a bed of blue and white tissue paper. He opened it, reading the message wishing him a warm and happy holiday and a prosperous new year. Brushing his thumb over the swooping, swirling signature, he breathed a small sigh, remembering when his name had been included. When he had spent weekends stuffing tissue paper into boxes and affixing labels while the house smelled of mint and sugar. Setting the card aside, he removed the tissue paper and located the tin nestled inside. The wintry scene printed on the lid matched the blue and white. There were four smaller tins, each labeled, and he left them in the box to give to Max, Eve, and the kids when they came back to town.

He had barely pried off the lid but could already smell the contents. Peppermint and chocolate. Helping himself to one of the squares of white chocolate fudge, he popped it into his mouth, already reaching for his phone to call and thank her. She would be just leaving work, probably stopping to pick up dinner, and it wasn't until he had found her name in his phone that he remembered she wasn't coming home to him.

The fudge tasted bittersweet but he knew it was regret. Snapping the lid back onto the tin, he left it on the table and ignored the longing to hear her voice. They were still friends, yes, and probably always would be, but he had no rights to call her as much as he still did. She had a new life. With Charles, a great guy who loved her the way she deserved.

Groaning, he called her, part of him hoping she would let it go to voicemail so he could leave a quick message thanking her for the fudge and peppermint bark and the truffles. But of course she answered, her voice ringing with happiness.

"I knew you'd call! I saw online the package was delivered." Lauren chuckled. "Couldn't wait 'til Christmas, could you?"

"I never could," he reminded her with a grin. He thanked her, making sure to add another thanks for the treats she'd sent for Max’s family. "I'll make them wait until Christmas."

"How is the house coming along?"

"Pretty much done. The furniture has all been delivered and I've got to get the decorations up and put together some things." He looked at the cartons stacked in the living room and knew he needed to get to work. "How are you doing?"

"I'm great. Charles and I are going to see The Nutcracker tonight, so I'm at the salon getting my hair done."

"I won't keep you. I just wanted to say thanks."

"I'll always send you my Christmas candy, Oscar."

"I know." He felt it again, that bittersweet sensation, and swallowed hard. "Have a great time at the show."

"I'm sure I will." She paused. "Are you doing okay?"

"Just a few holiday blues," he admitted. "Wondering what I'll be doing next."

"You'll find something, Oscar. You always do."

"I know, I just…"

"Hoping the bakery girl will be involved?"

"How did you—"

"Max came to the bank the other day."

Of course he had. And of course he had told her about Natalie. "It's a little complicated, but I wouldn't say I'm having no luck. She's got a lot on her plate."

"Is there room on yours?" Lauren asked.

Oscar exhaled slowly. He didn't know how much Max had told her and had to remind himself that she was no longer his fiancée, that he didn't have to tell her everything. "I think so."

"It'll work out, Oscar."

"I hope so."

"It will. Stop being so moody. This isn't like you."

"I know, and I hate it. I'll pull myself out of it."

"If you need me—"

"I'll call," he promised. "Don't worry about me, Lauren."

"Tell the sun not to shine while you're at it."

He laughed, felt some of the melancholy ease. "Have you two set a date?"

"Charles  wanted to do October… Fall wedding at his family's place in the mountains. But…" She sighed. "We're looking at June now."

"You can have your fall wedding in the mountains."

"I don't want people to think I'm just doing a repeat."

"It's not a repeat."

"But people talk."

"Fuck people."

She laughed. "Are you sure you won't mind? You won't think it's weird?"

"Of course not. I mean, as long as it's not the same day and the same time and you wear the same dress," he teased.

"Hell, I might do the same bouquet and music, too," she laughed.

Once the laughter had stopped he sighed. "I'm really happy for you, Lauren. Do your fall wedding. Give a middle finger to anyone who tries to tell you it's being tacky. This is you and Charles, not you and me."

"You're right. I know. I'll talk to him tonight. Thanks, Oscar."

"You don't have to thank me for anything."

"Yes, I do – Just a minute!"

"Go get your hair done," he said.

"I have to thank you for a lot of things. And one day I'll get around to doing that. But right now… Thanks for being you."

"It's a hard job, but somebody's gotta do it."

"Will we see you before Christmas?"

"Probably not," he said. "I told Max the house would be ready for New Year's, but I'm working to get it done by Christmas."

"Ever the devoted friend. I hope we talk again before then, but if we don't, have a great Christmas, Oscar."

"You too, Lauren."

There was a brief pause, and the three little words hovered in the air. As they always did. He wondered if they would forever.

"Bye," she said softly, then ended the call.

He couldn't stay inside. He needed to get out, to breathe fresh air. He needed to see or talk to someone that he didn't have bittersweet feelings for. Someone that could pull him out of his head.

It wasn't until after he'd called Penny to him, after he had hooked the leash that she was still not a fan of to her collar, after he had guided her outside and shut the door, after he was halfway down the block, that he realized he could have just called Max. Or Eve. Or his mom. Or even Esteban.

Instead, he continued the walk, praising Penny when she stopped shaking her head to get the leash off. Praising her again when she stopped to pee. As they approached Natalie and Mark's house, she seemed to perk up, giving a little yip once they reached the edge of the drive. Chuckling, Oscar bent to unhook the leash, following as she ran across to the front porch and scratched at the front door. By the time he was climbing the steps to the porch the door was opening.

"Hey, you," Natalie greeted, squatting down to rub Penny. "Aren't you beautiful in your new sweater? Oscar got you the Christmas green one, huh? That's so festive!"

Grinning, Oscar watched Penny soak in the adoration. Natalie looked up at him, smiling, then turned her attention back to the dog.

"Come on in and see your Mark," she said, straightening. "Dad! Company!"

Oscar approached the door as Penny darted into the house, following the sound of Mark's voice. When the man's surprised laugh reached him, he grinned. "She's really his dog, you know. I'm just the nanny."

"Come in," she said, stepping back. "Close the door? I've got caramel on the stove."

Oscar stepped inside, breathing a soft sigh as he closed the door. Shrugging off his coat, he left it on the chair in the foyer and moved to the living room to see Penny standing by Mark's chair, her paws resting on his good knee. "Hey, Mark."

"Hey," he said, gently stroking Penny's head.

"How you feeling today?" he asked, stepping into the room. Seeing boxes and totes lined up in front of the couch, he lifted his eyebrows in confusion. Then, seeing a strand of lights stretched across the coffee table, he figured they were Christmas decorations.

"Better than the weekend." Mark peered behind Oscar to make sure his daughter wasn't coming into the room. "She won't let me work, though."

"Resting isn't a sin," Oscar said.

"I know. I just don't like everything falling on her." Mark stopped stroking Penny and sighed. "I'm going in tomorrow, though. I've got to get the fruitcakes ready for pickup."

"Who's working the shop now?"

"Franco and Ollie are doing mornings. She goes in first thing to get things started, then comes back here to take a nap and wait on me. Then she goes back after lunch and comes home for dinner. Last night she fell asleep untangling the light strands."

He wished he could offer to help out. He knew nothing about baking, though, and less about running a business. And he had more than enough work of his own to do, if he wanted to be able to surprise Max and Eve for Christmas. Thinking of all he had to do, he knew he should make it a quick visit and head back. But he stayed, watching Penny move to the armchair next to Mark's. She sat up in the seat, giving the air a few sniffs, then turned in three circles before curling up and settling in. When he heard her pleased sigh, he didn't have the heart to make her move.

"She's making caramel?" he asked.

"Doing turtles to take to the church pageant this weekend," Mark said with a nod.

"The pecan things?"

"Yep. I can't wait to steal one later." Sighing, Mark picked up his book. "Go see if you can get one for me now."

Chuckling, Oscar headed for the kitchen. He was greeted with the mouthwatering aroma of caramel and roasted pecans. Natalie was at the stove, steadily whisking the contents of a saucepan. On the counter was a long sheet of waxed paper, row after row of clustered pecans lined up like soldiers. He saw unwrapped bars of chocolate sitting in a bowl on the island counter, and helped himself to a few of the pecans in another bowl. "Are these the rejects?"

"The ones I haven't gotten to," she said with a smile. "What brings you buy?"

"Penny needed a walk." He peered into the pan and saw the beginnings of a boil. Stepping back, he leaned against the island. "Although really I think she just wanted to see Mark."

"Mark and Penny," she laughed. "I'm glad you bring her over to see him. She really perks him up."

"I told you, she's his dog. I'm just the nanny."

"Is he paying you?"

"Only in good company." He popped a salted pecan into his mouth. "And food."

"After his surgery…" She turned her attention to the pan, then reached for an open can. She slowly poured the contents into the pan, steadily whisking. "After his surgery, do you think you could bring her by? He's bad enough now with me making him stay home a few days, he's going to be in hell when he can't go to work for weeks."

"I—" Oscar popped the rest of the pecans in his mouth and chewed slowly, not wanting to tell her he wasn't sure he would still be in town then. But he thought of the little house he kept straying to when he and Penny took their long morning walks. He thought of Mr. Wright, who'd called him and told him he was lowering the asking price. He thought of his best friend living a five minute walk away, and being able to see the kids every day. He thought of dancing in the snow and the warmth of her smile. "I'd be happy to."

Her smile was so warm he was certain he felt his heart bubble like the caramel she was making.

"If you keep stealing them, I won't have any to take to church."

"I only stole two, the rest you said I could try."

"I didn't say you could try six."

"They're delicious, though, how could I only try one?"

"You're impossible," Natalie groaned, pulling the waxed paper towards her. "But I'm glad you like them."

Oscar grinned, popping a finished turtle off the paper. "I love them. Your recipe?"

"Mom's." She felt a glow rise inside her from his praise. "I added the sea salt, though."

"It's great. Are you taking anything else to the church thing?"

"I don't know. There's always so much food and it's all so good… I think we'll just stick to desserts." Grabbing the last of the candies, she placed them in the container and gasped when he reached to grab another. "Oscar!"

"Here," he said, holding it in front of her face. "The cook has to try it."

"I tasted all the elements."

"Not together."

Rolling her eyes, she leaned forward to take a bite. She nodded, chewing, tongue darting over her lips to catch the bit of caramel that had stretched between her mouth and his hand. Looking up at him, she swallowed quickly and smiled. "It is good."

"You didn't take the opportunity to say you knew it would be good?" He clicked his tongue in disappointment. He set the candy on the counter, gaze dipping. "You got a flake of salt…"

Before she could reach to brush it away, his finger brushed over her bottom lip. Her breath caught and she swallowed again, lips parting slightly as the tip of his finger traced her lip again. The scents of chocolate and caramel lingered on his finger and she could smell it. She breathed in and smelled him. Her heartbeat flurried, dizzy, and she gave in when the urge to move closer to him rose.

He was going to kiss her.

She was sure of it, even though he seemed to be moving in slow motion. His palm grazed her cheek, cupped it, and he released a low sigh that she unconsciously echoed. His tongue grazed his lips and she was struck by the longing to taste it on hers. She wanted him to kiss her.

Didn't she?

"Natalie?" he whispered.

She nodded, even though she wasn't quite sure what the question was. She finally moved her hands, raising them to grasp his biceps, marveling a little at how strong they felt as he continued his slow movement. She really wanted a kiss. It had been so long she was starved for the intimate touch, but more importantly she wanted his kiss. Because she instinctively knew it would be amazing.

"Can I get a taste of that candy, sweetie?" her father called from the living room.

Oscar groaned with regret, a soft laugh escaping when she muttered a curse.

"Sorry," she whispered, pulling away. Clearing her throat, she turned to get a plate to carry some of the candies to her father.

He sighed, smoothed a hand over his face, and said nothing while she loaded the plate with half a dozen of the turtles. She reached for the container lid, he reached for the plate. Then, sighing again, he set it down with a clink and reached for her. The container lid hit the counter with a clatter. Drawn into his embrace, she tipped her head back, catching the darkened hue of his eyes an instant before his lips met hers.

Decadent, like the caramel she had made. Rich, like the chocolate. The flavors of the candy melted between them and then she could taste only him. She could smell only him, that woodsy cologne that would have been overpowering on anyone else, even the detergent he used for his clothes. And lingering just beneath something else that she couldn't identify but could only sense. It reminded her of being wrapped in a warm towel fresh from the dryer but at the same time reminded her of sunshine. Of crisp sheets and laughter and dandelions dancing on a breeze.

She wanted him to never stop kissing her.

He was tender and sweet and made her weak. She held onto him, returning the kiss with all the longing that had built up since they had met.

"Natalie," he sighed at the corner of her mouth.

"Hmm?" She felt a little woozy, like she'd had too much wine. His arm was strong around her, and through her sweater she could feel his fingers digging into her side. "…What?"

"Your dad," he whispered after kissing her again.

She blinked slowly, struggling to figure out what he was talking about. Her dad? He was fine. He was in the living room with his book about the American Revolution. She had to take him candy, but he could wait just a few more minutes.

"What's taking so long – Oh." From the doorway came a knowing chuckle as she and Oscar pulled apart.

She tried to pretend that the feel of Oscar's fingers dragging along her arm didn't affect her. Biting her lip, which still tasted of him, she attempted to gather her scattered thoughts. "Dad, we—"

"Oh, I saw what you were doing. Better take it out of here, though, before you melt the chocolate."