#i almost got excited by some of them again

[tsukuhoe]

10. please please please

from behind the mixing desk, choso watched you intently. his fingers hovered over the soundboard, ready to adjust levels at a moment’s notice. 

“y/n,” the brunette said, his voice crackling through the intercom. “wanna take it from the bridge again? you’re almost there— just lean into it.” whenever he works, choso’s like a whole new person. more serious, more focused, more professional. 

you nodded, determination flashing in your eyes. you took a deep breath as the instrumental track began to play in your headphones, the rich swell of strings building into a steady rhythm. your voice was raw and soulful when you sang, each word dripping with emotion. choso nodded along, tweaking the EQ slightly as you hit a particularly powerful note. as the song reached its peak, your voice cracked ever so slightly. 

“fuck,” you muttered, pulling off the headphones. 

“it’s okay,” choso said, stepping into the booth. “you’re pushing too hard on the outro… let it breathe. remember, it’s not about being perfect— it’s about feeling it.” 

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “i know. i just… i want this to be right. it’s a bit personal.”

choso placed his hand on your shoulder. “that’s exactly why it’ll be great! just sing it for yourself this time.”

you nodded, letting his words sink in. with a deep breath, you slid the headphones back on and faced the mic. choso returned to his seat, adjusted a few knobs, and gave you a thumbs-up. the track started again, softer this time. your voice was vulnerable yet strong as you sang. as you finished, the studio fell silent, your heart racing.

the brunette leaned into the mic, a slow smile spreading across his face. “that’s it, y/n. that’s the one.”

you grinned, the tension in your shoulders melting away. “really?”

“really. it was perfect.”

you ran out the booth, excitedly jumping towards him and pulling him into a warm unexpected hug. choso’s stomach did a flip. his mind racing. was this real? should he hug you back? would that be weird? 

“thank you, cho…” you said softly, your cheek resting against his shoulder and eyes welling up with tears. the brunette blinked, finally letting his arms rise to lightly return the hug.

“are you alright, y/n?” 

you didn’t expect to start tearing up at the question, however, it’s been a rough week with the rumours of sukuna being spotted with his ex all while being in a new environment filming for the first time. not only that, but the recent spike in popularity from your new single has been overwhelming. you couldn’t help but start tearing up in choso’s embrace; presence was so comforting. 

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your hands still resting lightly on his shoulders. “yeah. sorry for getting emotional… it’s been a long week.” you chuckled, wiping the small tears that formed in your eyes. “oh, by the way, i forgot to tell you but i got permission for us to use special grade’s music production rooms— access to them 24/7.” 

choso’s eyes widened and lit up, excited like a puppy seeing a treat. “really?! wait y/n, seriously? that’s awesome!” 

“right, baby! you deserved a reward— so i bargained with the management when they discussed the scream reboot.” 

“thank you so so much! i could not be any happier, oh my god… i can’t believe it! all the new equipment, the space… i mean, can you imagine the quality of their mics? we could make so much more higher quality songs and…” a soft smile tugged at your lips. his voice rose and fell, his excitement weaving through every syllable. 

seconds later, the door swung open, revealing yuji, your producer’s younger brother, wearing a flour-dusted apron and an exuberant smile. 

“choso! y/n!” the pink-haired boy exclaimed, opening the door as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon enveloped the room like a cozy blanket. “the band and i just finished making cinnamon rolls, and we wanted to bring you two some! i’m not interrupting anything, right?” 

“omg thank you so much yuji! that’s so sweet of you!” you smiled giving him a peck on the cheek, as he handed you a plate with two freshly baked sweet rolls. 

choso never wanted to be his brother so badly until this very moment. 

album bonus tracks: — chosoy/n moments omgeee 🥹 — y/n in this chapter was having a panic attack btw if u didn't notice lol — (based on irl experiences when i had one in hs bc of my ex ꃋᴖꃋ) — yuji is so precious omg (adopt him rn!!!) ⋮ MASTERLIST  ֹ⋮  PREVIOUS  ⋮  ֹNEXT  ⋮

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[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FIVE ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 7.3k

A/N: This one lowkey took me longer than usual because I tried to make sure I represented both of their situations accurately. You'll get some resolution in this but it's definitely not going to just be rainbows and sunshine forever. Please keep up the comments and reactions!! I love reading what you guys have to say.

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The air in Aaliyah’s suite was tense, a quiet hum of anticipation hanging over the room as the team started trickling in. A few of them had already claimed spots on the couch or floor and the TV was muted, some random game playing in the background, but nobody paid it any attention.

Ice and KK walked in together, loud as always, and Caroline entered not long after, her phone still in hand, followed by Amari who looked between them all with curious eyes. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind the last person Nika didn’t waste time. She pushed herself off the counter she was leaning against and addressed everyone. 

“They slept together.”

A stunned silence followed. 

“Who?” KK broke the silence first, confused without any context. Ice who was sitting next to her just smacked her on the head as it was obvious with who was missing from the room. 

Nika, confirming anyway, just said “Paige and Azzi.” Her voice was steady, but her expression reflected how serious the situation was with the two of them not talking. “Paige told me like an hour ago.” 

A chorus of reactions broke out, some shocked and others not surprised at all.

“I knew it,” Q muttered under her breath, earning an incredulous side glance from Ice.

“So why did this cause World War Two?” KK asked, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t that be good news? Thought you were supposed to be a bundle of joy after doing the do.”

A chuckle escaped Nika as she continued, “Paige said Azzi was gone when she woke up. Like, left without a word, turned her phone off. And now they haven’t really talked since and it’s messier than it needs to be honestly.”

“Wait—what?” Ice sat up straighter. “Why the hell would Azzi do that?”

“Chill out,” Caroline interjected, her tone calm but firm. “We don’t know the full story. Don’t start judging before you do.”

The room went quiet again, but Nika’s gaze zeroed in on Caroline. Something about her reaction struck a chord.

“You know something, don’t you?” Nika’s question wasn’t accusatory, but it was sharp enough to get everyone else’s attention. “If you do, you need to tell us. We can’t help them if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Caroline hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She glanced around the room, her lips pressing into a thin line as she debated whether to speak.

Aubrey, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the couch, leaned forward. “Come on, Car. We need to know. We barely scraped by last game and Geno was pissed, it’s only going to get harder from here. If we don’t fix whatever is going on between them, it’s going to fuck up the season.”

Caroline let out a heavy breath, her internal conflict evident. Azzi was one of her closest friends, and she knew how private Azzi was, especially about something as personal as this. But the situation was already affecting the team on and off the court and it had been almost a month. 

“Alright,” Caroline said slowly, her voice low. “Yes, Azzi left and asked me to take her to the airport, and trust me, I told her how stupid it was after she told me what happened. But she said she needed to, and I didn’t push her because she looked like she was about to fall apart.” She paused, shifting uncomfortably as all eyes were on her. “I don’t really know what happened while she was gone, just that when I picked her up from the airport when she got back she was... excited. I mean, I hadn’t seen her like that in a while. I honestly don’t really know what happened after that, but something must’ve gone wrong because she was in my room crying the next day. She wouldn’t tell me anything though.”

The room was silent for a beat as everyone absorbed Caroline’s words. Then Ice leaned forward, her face reflecting she was piecing things together. “Wait, when Azzi got back that Monday?”

“Yeah,” Caroline nodded. “Why?”

Ice leaned forward her expressions showing she was slowly starting to piece things together. “Because I was in the suite when Azzi got back.”

All eyes turned to Ice as she continued. “Azzi came back to our suite. I was on the couch playing the game when she walked in. She seemed... kinda nervous but a little giddy. Like she wanted to go see Paige but wasn’t sure if she should. She was about to just walk in her room but I told her to knock knowing Paige was in there with some girl. I didn’t know they slept together when this happened though.”

“Azzi saw her?” Nika asked, breaking the silence.

Ice nodded grimly. “Yeah. Azzi looked like she was about to throw up. And when Azzi didn’t say anything Paige just…slammed the door in her face.”

“Okay,” Nika began cautiously, “so Azzi left after they—” she hesitated, glancing around, “—you know. And when she came back, she saw Paige with someone else in her room?”

“Paige definitely made herself freak out because Azzi left,” Aubrey chimed in, her voice picking up speed as she worked through it, “but Azzi is upset because Paige started sleeping around again?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Caroline said slowly. “Azzi probably thought Paige didn’t care. I mean, she comes back all excited, and then... that’s what she walks into? Of course she’d feel like she was just another hookup.”

With Caroline’s words, the puzzle finally clicked into place for the team. The fragmented bits of the story now became slightly whole. 

Ice was the first to speak, her arms crossing as she leaned back on the couch. “We just need to make them talk.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Aaliyah said, her tone cautious. “They both still seem really emotional. Forcing a conversation might just make things worse.”

“They aren’t even upset anymore,” Ice shot back quickly, shaking her head. “They both just walk around the suite like sad puppies at this point. They’re miserable, and we’re all stuck watching it. They literally just need to speak to each other, and I’m sure all of this can be solved.”

Finally, Ice shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “You know what? I’ll handle it. I live with them. When they’re both back in the suite later, I’ll make sure they talk.”

“You think that’ll work?” Aubrey asked skeptically.

“It’s better than just sitting here and doing nothing,” Ice said. “I’ll lock them in the same room if I have to.”

There was a mix of amused chuckles and wary glances around the room, but no one disagreed. If anyone could nudge Paige and Azzi toward finally talking, it was their third roommate.

…

Later that day, Azzi was in her room, the faint sound of music playing softly behind the closed door as she was reading a book. Ice was laying on the couch in the common area, idly scrolling on her phone, when she heard the door to the suite open.

Paige walked in, her steps slow, her eyes still slightly puffy from the tears she’d cried earlier. She didn’t look up as she moved toward her room, clearly hoping to slip in without being addressed.

Ice sat up fast, her voice bursting with fake excitement. “P Boogers I miss you!”

Paige paused, startled, but a small fond smile tugged at her lips as she slightly rolled her eyes. She turned to Ice, trying to match her energy, though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Hi, Isuneh. I miss you too.”

She made to continue toward her room, but Ice wasn’t having it. “Hey, hey, come here,” Ice called out, patting the couch beside her.

Paige frowned, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just do it,” Ice insisted with a grin that didn’t leave room for argument.

Still puzzled, Paige hesitated before sighing and walking over. She plopped down onto the couch, sitting at the edge as she glanced sideways at Ice.

“Good,” Ice said, clapping her hands together before standing up. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

Before Paige could question her further, Ice headed to Azzi’s door. She knocked twice, then opened it without waiting for an answer.

“Yes?” Azzi’s voice was a bit flat, but Ice ignored the tone, walking in and grabbing her by the arm.

“Come on,” Ice said, tugging her toward the door.

Azzi frowned, resisting. “What are you doing?”

“Family meeting,” Ice said, her grip firm.

“Family meeting?” Azzi repeated, confused.

“Yes, and you’re coming,” Ice replied, dragging her out of the room despite her protests.

A moment later, Ice reappeared in the common area, Azzi in tow. She plopped Azzi down on the couch right next to Paige, who looked at her wide-eyed.

“Ice what are you doing?” Paige asked, her voice uneasy as her gaze darted between Ice and Azzi.

Ice grinned, crossing her arms and standing in front of them. “You two are gonna talk.”

Both Paige and Azzi started to protest at the same time, but Ice cut them off with a sharp look. “Nope. No excuses. You’re fixing this. Right here. Right now.”

Paige sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Ice, we’re not just going to magically fix this because you say so.”

Azzi looked equally unimpressed, her arms folding across her chest. “For once in a while I agree with her.”

Ice rolled her eyes at their ridiculousness already, planting her hands on her hips. “Y'all are so damn stubborn. I’m not asking for magic, just a conversation. You’re still capable of that right? ”

Neither of them responded, the silence thick with unease.

“Fine,” Ice pressed, her tone firm. “Don’t talk, but you’re not leaving this couch until you do.”

Paige shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Azzi, who stubbornly avoided her gaze. After a long pause, Azzi finally sighed and muttered, “Fine. I’ll talk. But I can’t do this with you here, Ice.”

Ice arched a skeptical brow. “Oh, sure. Because the second I leave, you’ll both magically become chatty besties?”

Azzi glared at her. “I’m serious. I’m not doing this with an audience.”

Paige chimed in softly, her tone more sincere. “Ice, it’s okay. We’ll talk. I promise.”

Ice’s gaze darted between them, her arms still crossed. “You better. Because if I come back and one of you is sulking in your room, I’m locking you both in the pantry.”

Azzi gave her an exasperated look, but Paige offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll talk,” she said again.

After a long moment of hesitation, Ice finally relented. “Fine,” she said, stepping back. “But don’t make me regret trusting you two, I’ll get hell if I don’t come back with results.”

She paused before leaving, “And don’t yell at each other. You both hate it and it leads to nothing.” 

Azzi muttered under her breath, “No promises,” earning a slight scoff from Paige, who crossed her arms but said nothing. 

With that, Ice retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. 

Once Ice left the silence hung between Paige and Azzi for a while, the suite so quiet they could hear the music coming from Azzi’s room. Paige was picking at her nails absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused as she tried to keep herself from spiraling being so close to Azzi. Beside her, Azzi sat quietly, her fingers subconsciously playing with her necklace, the motion almost automatic at this point.

After what felt like an eternity, Azzi finally broke the silence, her voice soft but cutting slightly. “You don’t have to sit here and pretend you want to talk to me P. It’s fine.”

Paige immediately looked up as if she was waiting for Azzi to speak first. Confused, she says, “Huh, what are you talking about?”

Azzi sighed, clearly already frustrated. She stared at the floor, avoiding Paige’s gaze. "Nothing, Paige. Nevermind.”

But the silence didn’t last long. Azzi’s tone changed, turning a little sharper, more pointed as she finally voiced the question that had been on her mind since she came back to Storrs. "Did you even get to clean the sheets before you had somebody else in your bed?"

Paige blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly, before her initial shock turned into something else—a mix of frustration and defensiveness. She didn’t want to engage in the hurtful back-and-forth, but the words spilled out before she could stop them. “I don’t know Azzi... maybe you would know if you cared to stick around to find out.”

The room fell quiet again, the jabs leaving an uncomfortable space between them that they clearly didn’t want. Neither of them moved, neither of them said anything at first, as though they were both waiting for the other to break the silence. Finally, Azzi’s voice broke through again, softer but no less pointed.

“Did it not mean anything to you Paige?” Azzi’s words were steady, almost too steady, but there was an underlying vulnerability to them.

Paige’s chest tightened, and she leaned back on the couch, rubbing her face with her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t ready for this conversation—not yet, so she played the confused card. “Did what not mean anything?” Her voice was weary, a little guarded, as she avoided looking directly at Azzi.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, her tone unwavering. “You immediately started sleeping around again. It was like you finally got me to sleep with you, and then I wasn’t a second thought anymore. Just like everybody else.” 

Paige’s jaw clenched, and she looked at Azzi, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but firm.

The silence stretched between them again before Paige let out a long, shaky sigh. She leaned forward, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze softening as she met Azzi’s eyes. “You left me,” she said quietly. 

Her chest tightened as she continued, the pain in her voice unmistakable. "The morning after Halloween, you were gone. No note, no message, nothing. You just disappeared like what happened didn’t matter at all to you!" Her voice was a little too loud. 

Azzi flinched, her eyes flickering with frustration as she said “Paige, stop yelling. We haven’t even started yet and you’re already yelling.”

Paige paused her tears threatening to spill again. She exhaled sharply, biting her lip, before letting out a deep sigh. The volume of her voice softened, but the hurt was still evident. “Do you know what that fucking felt like, Az?” Her voice was lower now, still raw but controlled. “To physically lay out your heart to someone... to try to be completely fucking vulnerable, and then wake up to nothing? To have someone vanish and act like it was all nothing? Like I didn’t mean anything to them?” 

Azzi opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in her throat. “That’s not what happened, Paige,” she said, her voice quieter now, trying to calm the tension between them.

Paige shook her head, disbelief flashing in her eyes. “That’s exactly what happened,” she countered. “You left. No explanation. Nothing. And then you came back and acted like nothing changed. Knocking on my door with this look on your face like you didn’t even care how you made me feel while you were gone.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, her own frustration building. “No, Paige! You treated me like I was just some random UConn slut you could forget about—” Her voice was sharp, echoing in the room, until Paige gave her a look that made her pause. Azzi’s face softened, and she exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, glancing away. “I didn’t mean to yell.” She looked back at Paige, her eyes dark with emotion as she continued, her voice quieter. “You just... you made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

Paige’s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing. “Azzi, what are you talking about? I basically worshiped you that night” she said, her voice softer now but still filled with hurt.

She tried to explain, her voice almost shaking with emotion. “After we... After we slept together, and things got a little unclear, you just went right back to doing the same thing you always do. You slept with any girl who came your way, and I was just left there to watch, to hear it. It felt like I was nothing to you. Like I was some one-night stand you got bored with.”

“You ignored me for days, Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracked slightly, the pain evident in each word. “What was I supposed to think? Your phone was off. You didn’t send a single message telling me where you were or what was going on. You just left me hanging, and now you’re acting like it’s all on me?” Her breath came in shallow gasps as she spoke, the frustration of everything unresolved coming to a head.

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but Paige wasn’t done. The words were spilling out now, a flood of everything she had been holding in. “I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t think, honestly. I woke up the next morning, and you were just gone. And for three days, you didn’t give me a single word. Not one thing to hold onto, or look forward to. What was I supposed to think?”

The words cut through the silence between them, each one a strike against the walls they’d been building around themselves. Azzi’s gaze flickered away for a moment, her chest rising and falling in slow, shaky breaths. She looked down, her voice small but steady as she spoke, barely above a whisper.

“I just needed time,” she said, her words full of vulnerability. “I needed time to think, to figure everything out. I didn’t know how to process what happened. I didn’t want to do anything rash.”

“How the hell was I supposed to guess that, Az?” Paige’s voice rose, her emotions spilling over. “You just vanished and didn’t think to tell me anything—not one hint of where your head was at. Was I supposed to just sit there waiting for you to come back with some grand explanation? How was I supposed to trust that you’d even come back with something?”

“Stop yelling,” Azzi said simply, her tone firm but not angry.

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back on the couch, forcing herself to lower her voice. “I’m sorry…How was I supposed to know, Az? You left me to figure it out all on my own.”

Azzi’s eyes softened with regret as she let out a shaky breath. “I thought... I thought you’d trust me, P. I thought you’d understand that I needed space. I didn’t want to hurt you by saying the wrong thing, or worse, doing something I couldn’t take back.”

Paige’s tone softened, but the hurt was still evident in her words. “It’s hard to trust someone who walked out on you. How can I trust you when you just disappeared? You don’t do that to someone after they open up to you. You don’t vanish for days and leave them wondering if they ever meant anything to you.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, frustration mingling with sadness. “I was ready to talk when I got back home. I had it all figured out,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But when I came back, you had some random girl in our suite, probably ready to fuck her. You didn’t even try to talk to me. So no, I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at you after I saw that.”

The silence that followed was deafening, both of them sitting with the weight of the words they’d thrown at each other.

Paige finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what else to do, Azzi. I didn’t know if you were coming back, if you even cared enough to try.”

Paige’s breath hitched as she continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked at Azzi. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “It just felt like you didn’t care and that was the only thing I could come up with.”

Azzi finally glanced at Paige, the regret and longing in her eyes almost overwhelming. She hesitated before scooting closer, slowly reaching out to take Paige’s hand in hers, their fingers lacing together. The touch was hesitant but full of unspoken meaning.

“I cared,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible, a rawness to it that Paige had never heard before. “I cared so much that it scared me. Scared me not knowing where you stood, not knowing if I even meant anything to you. And for everything I did... I’m so sorry. For leaving you when you needed me. For making you cry, for making those beautiful blue eyes of yours look so sad. I hate that I did that to you.”

She paused, her voice trembling slightly as the words continued to spill out. “I’m sorry for all the snide remarks, the times I pushed you away when you were reaching out, for making you feel like you didn’t matter, when you meant everything to me. I’m sorry for every moment I made you feel small, when you’re anything but that. I promise you I never wanted to hurt you, Paige. I just... I was scared. And in all my fear, I made it so you were the problem, when it was never you.”

Azzi took a deep breath before speaking again, her voice laced with regret as she finally began telling Paige what happened. “I got up before you. I was planning on getting breakfast for us because I knew you were going to have a hangover.” She paused, looking down at their interlaced fingers, before continuing. “But when I was getting the food, I ran into one of your hookups. The one we ran into that night we were going to eat and you told her I was your girlfriend. So I guess to antagonize me she said something that... that reminded me of how much you’ve slept around. It... it scared me, Paige. It made me think about what happened between us, and I didn’t know what that night meant to you, what I meant to you. I didn’t know if I was going to be just another one night stand.”

Paige tried to speak but Azzi continued, “I guess she saw my initial reaction and decided to keep going. She asked if you were still as aggressive as you used to be and started rambling about all the things you did to her. I just..I felt so inadequate, Paige. I’ve never done any of that. I didn’t even know how to respond.”

Paige froze, her stomach sinking at the words. “She did what?” she breathed, shocked.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper now, and she looked away. “She said it casually, as if it was no big deal. But it made me think, made me question everything. It reminded me of how much you’ve been... you know, sleeping around, and how experienced you are, and it just… kinda hit me. That I’ve never done anything like that and I’m probably a lot more inexperienced than the other girls you’ve been with.” Azzi continues kind of rambling now, “I started to wonder if it was even good for you. If I did anything wrong. You didn’t even try anything like that with me. I don’t even know if you’re into that kind of thing with me and it was just too much, so I had to take some time to think and when I came back and saw someone in the suite it just made all those feelings resurface.”

Paige’s heart clenched painfully as the weight of Azzi’s words sank in. She reached out and grabbed Azzi’s jaw gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I didn’t know she said that. I didn’t even know you were... Fuck I’m so so sorry Az, I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Azzi’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t pull away. “It hurt, Paige,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It really hurt. And I came back I had everything ready but you were–”

Azzi stopped, biting her lip as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. Instead, she took a deep breath and stood up. “Wait here,” she said softly before disappearing into her room.

Paige blinked, confused and concerned at the abruptness, her heart racing as she sat there waiting. When Azzi returned a few moments later, she was holding a crumpled up airport paper, covered in messy scribbles and arrows. 

Azzi handed it to Paige without a word, sitting back down as Paige unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she scanned the chaotic notes. “What...is this?”

“It’s a list,” Azzi said quietly. “I made it after… you know, that night. I was trying to calm myself down and prove that it wasn’t just some hookup for you, that it meant something more.”

Paige’s eyes darted over the napkin, trying to decipher the messy scrawl. Words and phrases jumped out at her. She kissed me, with an arrow towards for the second time in the corner of the napkin. Jealous at Ted’s but that one had a lot of question marks followed by she would’ve just told me which was crossed out with the words no she wouldn’t next to it. Other words Paige could clearly make out Teammates…felt too inanimate…the way she looked at me, which was underlined a few multiple times with the words think i’m delusional next to it. 

As Paige continues trying to decipher the napkin, realization dawns on her face. Her fingers slightly tighten around the paper as her chest tightens with emotion. The arrows connecting some points and scribbled-out words showed how much thought Azzi had put into it, even in her uncertainty.

“I had everything figured out,” Azzi said, her voice trembling. “I was ready to show you, to make you understand even if you weren’t ready, that it couldn’t have been just casual for you. It had to be something deeper. But then I saw her in your bed, and it all fell apart. God, Paige, I felt so stupid. Like I’d made everything up in my head.”

Paige stared at the napkin, guilt and heartbreak washing over her in waves. “Azzi…”

Azzi shook her head, looking away. “I cared so much about sleeping with you it scared me, Paige. And when I saw her, I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Paige’s eyes filled with tears as she placed the napkin on the table and cupped Azzi’s face gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said her, her voice quiet but steady. “I didn’t even know she said that. I didn’t even know you were…I wasn’t that way with you because you’re so much more than that to me Az. I never wanted you to feel like you were just another hookup. I knew it was your first time with a girl, and I just wanted to take everything slow. I wanted you to feel safe, to feel like it was okay to just feel everything and just…just be. I was trying to show you how much I cared that night, and I thought maybe... maybe that was the way to make you understand. But it wasn’t. I see that now.”

Azzi’s face softened as she absorbed Paige’s words. The tension between them seemed to ease just a little, but there was still a quiet sorrow in her eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath before speaking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to make you feel alone, I know how hard that is for you. I was just so caught up in my own feelings, my own fear. I was so afraid of getting hurt that I couldn’t care about how anyone else felt.”

Paige reached out, cupping Azzi’s face gently in her hands again. She felt the weight of Azzi’s pain, the vulnerability in her touch, and it broke something inside her. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I do. But you mean the world to me, Azzi. I never wanted to make you feel less than. I just wanted you to know how much I care, how much I need you.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, locking with Paige’s, and she leaned into the touch, a tear slipping down her cheek. She didn’t say anything right away, just let the silence hang between them, the weight of everything they had just shared in the air. At that moment, words didn’t seem to matter as much as the quiet connection between them.

Paige pulled Azzi into a tight, much-needed hug. She buried her face in Azzi’s hair and whispered, “I’m so sorry Azzi.” Azzi squeezed her back, the tension in her body easing with every second. “I’m sorry too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. The two of them sat in their embrace for a while, both of them making up for what they felt like was lost time. 

Ice’s door creaked open hesitantly. She hadn’t heard voices for some time, so she peeked out to check on the situation. Her eyes landed on Paige and Azzi wrapped in each other’s arms, their tears visible even from where she stood. A grin tugged at her lips as she then leaned against the wall.

“Okay thank god you figured it out,” Ice teased, crossing her arms. “I was starting to think I’d have to find a lock for the pantry. It was hard being a child of a divorced home.”

Azzi laughed through her tears, her face still pressed to Paige’s shoulder. “Shut up, Ice,” she said, her voice thick but light with humor.

Paige chuckled softly, finally pulling back just enough to wipe at Azzi’s damp cheeks. The warmth in her gaze made Azzi’s heartache in the best way.

Ice smirked, watching them for a moment longer before retreating back into her room, muttering something about how they better keep it down if there’s any more funny business around this house. Paige and Azzi exchanged a watery laugh, the tension between them finally broken.

…

Later that night, after showering and getting into her pajamas, Paige sat on her bed, the controller in her hands as she settled into her game for the first time in a while. She hadn’t felt in the mood to play in weeks, but tonight was obviously different.

Azzi walked into the room quietly, dressed in her pajamas and a bonnet. She stood by the door for a moment, hesitant, taking in the space that felt unfamiliar in this new version of them, something a little more than a friendship but not a relationship. She hadn’t been in Paige’s room like this—so casually, so unburdened—since October…since they slept together. It felt like the distance between them had changed everything, and for a second, she wasn’t sure how to exist in here.

But then she heard Paige mutter something incoherent at the game, followed by an exaggerated shout of frustration when she was killed. Azzi’s lips curled into a smile at the familiar sound. That was more like the Paige she knew. It made Azzi relax a little.

Azzi made her way over to the bed and sat down on the edge next to Paige, her body a little stiff at first. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, what was ok to do and what wasn’t. But then, as she watched Paige continue to play, she cracked a joke, letting it slip out without thinking.

“Have you always been this bad, or is tonight just special?” Azzi teased, her voice light with amusement.

Paige paused the game immediately, her brow furrowing as she turned to face Azzi, an exaggerated look of disbelief on her face. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still on her phone, scrolling absentmindedly. “Eh, just stating the obvious.”

Paige crossed her arms, trying to hold back a grin. “I’m being disrespected in my own room, this is crazy.” She said, her voice a little dramatic, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, and for a moment, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to slip away. The easy banter between them returned, small but meaningful, like they hadn’t spent any time apart. Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her chest, the kind that came with knowing things were moving in the right direction.

Paige tilted her head, looking at Azzi. “You wanna play?”

Azzi looked up from her phone, her brow raising as if Paige had just asked her to solve all the world’s problems. “Me? Play? Are you crazy?” She shook her head. “I’ve never played before. And I’ve heard you, KK, and Ice yelling a little too much to know better.”

Paige shrugged, unfazed. “No big deal. You’ll like it.” She said as she tried to hand Azzi the controller.

Azzi hesitated, giving the controller a wary glance before reluctantly taking it. The second she started playing, Paige immediately realized how bad things were going to be. Within seconds, Azzi’s character on the screen was walking off of the building Paige had built, spinning in circles, and doing everything but what she was supposed to be doing.

“Azzi what the hell!” Paige burst out laughing as she watched the chaos unfold. “What are you even doing?!”

“I don’t know!” Azzi cried out, frantically mashing random buttons as her character continued to flail in every direction, shooting randomly here and there. She pushed Paige’s shoulder with a playful shove. “Shut up and help me!”

Paige tried to compose herself, still grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Okay, okay, see this button? That’s to move. And that one? That’s to aim. You’re just—” She dissolved into laughter again as Azzi’s character jumped straight towards someone shooting at her and immediately died.

Azzi groaned, pouting as she turned to Paige with a frown. “This isn’t funny! You’re supposed to be helping, not laughing at me.”

“I am helping!” Paige insisted through her giggles, her cheeks aching from how hard she was laughing. She reached over, guiding Azzi’s hands on the controller. “Look, just press this one and— no not that one!”

Azzi let out an exaggerated huff, dropping the controller onto her lap. “This is impossible. You’re a terrible teacher.”

“You’re just a terrible student,” Paige shot back, her grin widening.

At this, Azzi pouted harder, her lips pushing out in exaggerated frustration. Paige couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Alright, alright, come here,” she said, scooting back on the bed to make room.

Azzi gave her a skeptical look but didn’t argue, sliding into the spot Paige had just been sitting in, directly in front of the TV. Paige scooted up behind her, settling comfortably as she wrapped her arms around Azzi to guide her hands on the controller.

Azzi stiffened at first, her body going rigid against Paige’s. Paige noticed immediately, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Relax, Az,” she said, her voice gentle, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “I’m not gonna bite, Just teaching you how to play the game I swear.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh, the tension easing out of her shoulders as she leaned back into Paige. “You better not,” she murmured, her tone lighter.

As Azzi settled into Paige’s hold, she tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s face, which was now resting on her shoulder. Paige smirked, not even looking away from the TV. “Stop staring and focus on the game, Azzi.”

“I’m not staring,” Azzi muttered, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks warmed slightly.

“Sure you’re not,” Paige teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “This is why you’re so bad at the game—you’re too distracted by me so you aren’t listening to instructions”

Azzi scoffed. “Please, I’d be amazing if you weren’t breathing down my neck every two seconds.”

Paige chuckled, her voice low and playful. “You like it, don’t lie.”

Azzi tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips twitched as she turned her attention back to the screen. “Whatever. Just show me which button I’m supposed to press.”

“Alright, I got this,” Paige said, her fingers wrapping around Azzi’s to guide her movements. As they moved, Paige’s fingers brushed over Azzi’s, each shift in position almost feeling intentional, like she was trying to distract her more than help with the game. “See? You press this one to jump. No, not that one—this one,” Paige corrected, her hand pressing lightly on Azzi’s, guiding her thumb to the correct button.

Azzi shot Paige a playful glare, her lips curling into a smile despite herself. “Are you just playing for me now?”

Paige didn’t even try to hide her grin. “You’re a terrible student, Azzi. What do you expect?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth beneath it, the closeness between them now undeniable. She adjusted her grip on Azzi’s hands, their fingers interlacing as she continued to control the game for both of them.

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at how effortlessly Paige took over. “You’re not even letting me play at this point. What’s the point of me being here?”

Paige’s fingers tightened around Azzi’s making sure she didn’t go anywhere, guiding them both. “You’re here to keep me entertained,” she teased. 

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to focus on the screen, but her attention kept drifting to the feel of Paige’s hand in hers, the pressure of her touch. “I think you just like controlling things,” Azzi said, her voice softer now, with a hint of something more teasing underneath.

Paige smirked, her grip remaining firm as she helped Azzi push through the game. “You know I love being in control.” 

Azzi shifted, feeling the warmth of Paige’s chest against her back as she continued to play. “You’re really trying to get me flustered, huh?” Azzi teased, though the playful tone didn’t quite match the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

Paige’s chuckle was low and soft, her lips brushing against the side of Azzi’s neck as she continued guiding her hands. “If you’re flustered, then I’m doing something right.” She let out a light laugh when Azzi flinched slightly at the touch. “But you need to focus, Az. We’re trying to win here.”

Azzi, still caught in the tangle of their touch and the warmth of Paige’s breath, let out a small, involuntary laugh. “I’m trying, but it’s hard when you’re distracting me like this.”

Paige leaned in, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Then I guess you’ll just have to try harder, huh?”

As Azzi’s thumb pressed the button under Paige’s guidance, she couldn’t ignore the way her pulse quickened under Paige’s touch. “You’re insane,” Azzi muttered, but she didn’t pull away.

Paige’s smile deepened, the playful glint in her eyes never fading as she held Azzi’s hands in hers. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi smirked, her voice light and teasing as she turned her head just enough for their faces to be dangerously close. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of challenge. Her eyes locked with Paige’s, a subtle heat building between them. “But you’re starting a game that I was always better than you at,” she added, her words dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just a little closer, her breath brushing against Paige’s skin.

Azzi’s smirk only deepened as she leaned back slightly, tilting her head just enough to make their lips almost touch. The tension in the air shifted, both of them clearly forgetting the game in favor of something else. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, sending a shiver down Paige’s spine. “I miss you, P. I’ve been replaying it in my head for weeks,” Azzi murmured, her fingers gently tracing over Paige’s fingers, the motion intentional and carrying an unmistakable double meaning.

Paige swallowed hard, her breath catching as Azzi’s words lingered in the space between them. Her heart raced, but she quickly detached herself from Azzi, leaning back and breaking the moment with a forced, lighthearted laugh. “Alright, I need to get away from Casanova here before I forget how to function,” Paige joked, trying to ease the tension as she put some space between them, though her smile betrayed her, a mix of amusement and something deeper still lingering in her eyes.

Azzi let out a soft sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly amused by Paige’s attempt to lighten the mood. Without saying another word, she grabbed her book from the bedside table and settled comfortably into Paige’s bed, leaning back against the pillows as she opened it to the page she had left off on.

Paige glanced over at her, a smile tugging at her lips as she started the game again, the sound of the controller clicking in the quiet room. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of Azzi’s relaxed posture, her head slightly tilted down as she read, and the small sense of comfort that filled the space between them was nice to have again. 

After a while, because Paige really was rusty, she finally won a round of Fortnite, she threw the controller onto the bed with a triumphant “Victory!” She turned around, expecting to see Azzi’s usual playful smirk, but instead, Azzi was fast asleep, her body sprawled across the bed. The sight of her like this—calm, peaceful, unguarded—struck something in Paige. She hadn’t seen Azzi like this in a while, and it warmed her more than she expected.

Paige smiled softly to herself, a little bittersweet. After turning everything off she carefully climbed into bed, trying not to wake Azzi, but the moment she settled in, Azzi instinctively shifted closer, snuggling into her side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Paige smiled again, a real, gentle smile, her heart fluttering at the simple act of them being close again.

The room was quiet for a while, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of Azzi’s breathing. Paige felt herself drifting to sleep for the first time in a while, feeling the weight of everything they’d been through slowly melting away, replaced by the comfortable warmth of having Azzi beside her again. Just as she was about to fall asleep, Azzi’s soft voice broke the silence.

“Thank you for the necklace,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. Paige’s chest tightened at the sincerity behind the words.

Paige smiled, her eyes still closed, and whispered back, her voice soft with affection. “You’re welcome.”

A small moment of silence passed between them as they both settled into the shared space of the bed. They weren’t together—not yet—but there was a quiet understanding between them. They weren’t rushing anything. They would work on it slowly but surely until they were ready. It felt like progress, even without words.

Just as they settled into a peaceful sleep, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Ice, who had been passing by, peeked in and caught a glimpse of the two of them. She paused for a moment, watching as Paige and Azzi snuggled so naturally together. She smiled to herself, happy for them, before snapping a quick picture, closing the door and walking down the hallway to send the picture in the groupchat.

[cannedsandwichh]

Jayce headcanons

I need more Jayce headcanons to fuel me so here we are. some are x reader but they're all pretty random lmaooo

hear me out jayce is a really big reader- or at least he was back in his high school days. he loved to read, almost about anything. he enjoyed everything from fantasy to sci-fi, and of course about non fictional stuff too, like physics books to try to figure out more about hex tech.

i feel like he'd be the same way about movies too. like he'd looove sci-fi type movies and binge watch documentaries as well.

he'd HATE horror movies though. he'd like being jump scared, but not for two hours straight.

jayce would be a big music nerd. I will die on this hill. like, while he was working on hex tech before he met Viktor he'd always have music playing. he didn't like the silence, it messed up his thoughts.

going off that note though, he hates silence while he's working. he needs some noise, may it be you, viktor, or himself talking, he needs it to stay sane and make him feel less lonely.

I feel like the poor baby didn't have many friends going up. all the kids thought he was weird since he'd talk about magic so much. he'd always act like he didn't mind what the other kids thought but in reality it always bothered him.

btw he'd loveee thinking out loud to whomever. he wants to rant to someone about his thoughts and hex tech. he'd ramble on for hours and you can just listen to him get excited about hex tech or a new discovery he found.

that being said, if he had a romantic partner, jayce would never shut up about them. someone would bring you up in a conversation and he'd just start yapping non stop about you.

you being his partner would be a lot to him, so he'd just talk about you a lot in general.

he always will make sure his partner is safe as well. seeing his mom almost die in front of him gave him a huge fear of losing anyone close to him.

if you got hurt he'd make such a big deal about it. you could have the common cold and he'd bug you about taking you to the doctor the whole time. he'd baby you the entire time as well, nursing you back to your original health.

while we're on the topic of romantic partners I'd like to note he'd fall for just about anyone really fast. you could just look at him and the poor boy would start catching feelings. thinking 'oh, they're cute'

i know everyone says this but I'll say it again because its true, jayce is a portable heater.

he'd give the nicest, warmest cuddles. he'd definitely wanna be the little spoon though, he likes being held. but if you like being the little spoon as well, he'd be very open to take turns

[meazalykov]

livestream

jule brand x gamer!reader

summary: a mistake will force the both of you to admit something.

the familiar hum of your dual monitors fills the room as you settle into your gaming chair, adjusting your headset and taking a sip of water. 

your fingers tap against the desk rhythmically, a mix of nerves and excitement bubbling inside you as the stream countdown ends. the chat is already alive, scrolling at a speed that’s hard to keep up with. you catch glimpses of messages—“hi y/n!”  “top streamer is back (kai wishes)”—and giggle to yourself. 

your audience is loyal, supportive, and somehow manages to make you feel connected even though you’ve been living halfway across the world from your home country of the united states for almost a year now.  

“hey, everyone!” you greet, voice warm and cheerful. you lean forward, adjusting the mic closer to your mouth. 

“how’s it going? what’s everyone been up to today?”  

a flurry of replies fills the screen. some talk about work or school, others ask what game you’ll be playing, and a few just spam emotes in excitement.  

“okay, okay,” you say with a laugh, waving a hand at the camera as if to calm them down. 

“before we jump into a game, let me give you a quick rundown of my day since some people in the chat are asking. it’s been a busy one, not gonna lie.”  

someone gifts you a sub, the notification popping up on the screen. you grin, glancing at the message: 

“how was your day, y/n?”

“see! my day? it was good!” you say, leaning back in your chair. 

“a little hectic, though. i went out for breakfast this morning at this cute little café downtown in wolfsburg—you know the one i mentioned last week? their cappuccinos are insane. afterwards i had to run around and grab some last-minute christmas gifts for my family back in the states. classic procrastination on my part.”  

you laugh softly, pausing briefly as you think about the rest of your day. you’re so comfortable, so used to chatting openly with your audience, that the words come out without much thought. 

“then, my girlfriend jul—”  

you freeze. your heart skips a beat as the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.  

“uh, i mean, my friend jule and i went out for lunch before her training session,” you say quickly, stumbling over the words as you try to backtrack. but it’s too late.  

the chat explodes.  

“DID SHE JUST SAY GIRLFRIEND???”  

“WAIT WAIT WAIT.”  

“i KNEW IT WAS JULE.”  

“not lynn wilms????”  

you can feel your face heat up as you glance at the chat. it’s moving so fast that you can barely make out individual messages, but the general vibe is clear: they caught your slip-up, and there’s no taking it back.  

“uh…” you laugh nervously, running a hand through your hair. “i… yeah, i fucked up, didn’t i? shit the stream hasn’t even really started yet ha ha” you mumble, more to yourself than to the chat, but of course, they hear it.  

the chat continues to erupt with a mix of excitement, shock, and jokes. some viewers are celebrating, others are teasing you, and a few are still trying to piece everything together.  

“okay, okay, calm down, everyone!” you say, holding up your hands as if that could somehow stop the chaos. “look, i think that’s enough excitement for one stream. i’m gonna go, even though i just got on, before i dig myself into an even deeper hole. i’ll see you all tomorrow, okay? have a good night!”  

with a click, you end the stream, the screen going black as you sit back in your chair with a heavy sigh.  

“oh my god,” you mutter, covering your face with your hands. your phone buzzes on the desk, and you already know who it’s from.  

sure enough, it’s lynn. 

lynn: I watched the stream. uh oh..

you groan, typing back quickly: yeah… i think i just outed me and jule to the entire internet.  

your phone buzzes again almost immediately, but this time it’s not a text. it’s jule calling. your stomach flips as you stare at her name on the screen, hesitating for a moment before answering.  

“hey…” you say cautiously, your voice small.  

“so… did you do what i think you did?” jule asks, her tone calm but with a hint of curiosity.  

“i’m so sorry,” you blurt out, the words tumbling out in a rush. 

“it just slipped out! i was talking about my day, and i wasn’t thinking, and then—”  

“y/n,” jule interrupts, her voice steady. 

“breathe. it’s okay.”  

“but we agreed to keep it private for at least a year, and now—”  

“y/n,” she says again, a little more firmly this time.

 “it’s okay. i know you didn’t mean to. honestly, people were going to figure it out eventually.”  

you fall silent, guilt still gnawing at you. 

“are you sure you’re not mad? because i feel awful, jule. like, seriously awful.”  

“i’m not mad,” she reassures you, her voice softening. 

“i promise. if anything, it’s kind of funny. you tried so hard to cover it up, but your chat is way too smart for that.”  

you let out a small, reluctant laugh. 

“yeah, they’re too smart for their own good but still, i feel like i messed up.”  

“you didn’t,” she says firmly. 

“it’s fine. really. now stop beating yourself up about it, okay?”  

“okay,” you mumble, though the guilt still lingers.  

the week that follows is a blur. the initial frenzy around your slip-up starts to die down, but the topic still pops up in your community and on social media. jule keeps things normal between you two, never bringing it up unless you do, which helps ease some of your worry. 

still, you can’t shake the feeling that you let her down.  

then, one afternoon, your phone buzzes with a notification from jule’s instagram story. curious, you open it, and your heart skips a beat.  

there, on her story, is a picture of you two from a few weeks ago. 

(pretend this is jule and you of course)

your jaw drops as you stare at the post, reading and rereading the words.  

quickly calling jule, your voice a mix of shock and amusement. 

“you really just hard-launched us like that?”  

“well, people already knew, didn’t they?” she teases. 

“might as well...”  

the taller blond gets cut off as you laugh, the sound finally free of the guilt that’s been weighing you down all week. 

“you’re amazing, you know that?”  

“i do,” she says, her tone playful. 

“and so are you. now, can we move on from this?”  

“yeah,” you say, and this time, you mean it.  

masterlist

[morbethgames]

The Recoding of The Bureau is Finished

I’m done recoding the game. All in all, it was honestly about what I expected to be slimmed off once I got a good look at some of the scenes. As I expected, 90% of that were from the first 3 chapters. I am a mix of emotions after arduously spending hours upon hours replacing gender variables one at a time by hand. Which unfortunately, I couldn’t think of another way for doing it, because all of the characters were using the same gender variables instead of independent ones for each character.

I’m relieved it’s done. Disappointed in myself that I had to do it at all. Irritated that some people decided to put the game on blast for it rather than give actionable suggestions on how to fix it. Excited to finally be able to continue writing both the extra scenes that need to be written and the main story. I honestly don’t know which one I’m going to continue with first.

Please leave feedback.

There are still no doubt one or two spots with maybe 1-2k words each that could be slimmed down, but that would require a lot of work for very little payoff. So yes, I’m comfortable saying, the game is almost 400k words long in total. 85k words per playthrough. That’s not including the extra scenes in the stats screen, because randomtest doesn’t go in the stats screen (to my knowledge at least, someone can correct me if I’m wrong). So you still have to play the game roughly 5 times and choose different choices to see everything it has to offer.

Is the game smaller? A bit, yeah. Is it 100-150k? It’s more than double that.

Now, that doesn’t say anything for the state of some of the writing. If I have to read someone nodding, or smiling, or ‘slightly’, ‘a bit’, or ‘a little’ something in my own work again, I’m gonna jump out a window. Obviously, back when I started writing this, I was very much influenced by Wayhaven. I’ve since grown out of that idea. Since the game has taken on an identity of its own, and while I will forever be grateful to that series and continue to support it, there’s gonna be some changes in the final version of this game. Less of what I said above, less ellipses, and the flirting (especially in the beginning) will seem much more down to earth and believable for the setting it’s in, with a bit of wiggle room since this is still very much a YA game.

Please leave feedback.

The rewrite will not be happening until the first draft of the game is fully finished. I refuse to get stuck in a rewrite phase, mostly because I would just find it way too boring.

My patreon will continue to have static fiction on it, as well as sneak peeks into upcoming stuff. In case you’ve been missing it, Love In Stasis is up to Chapter 6 at this point, with more to come. I’m also thinking about potentially starting a horror static fiction.

I’ll be relying on people to playtest this new version of the game to tell me about any continuity errors, and gender errors, any anything errors. So please, play the demo. Let me know if you notice anything. I think if I’ve proved anything at this point, it’s that I act and fix things based on feedback.

And pettiness.

But mostly feedback.

Please leave feedback.

Last thing I’ll say; I’m gonna stop saying I’m bad at coding. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to implement the text boxes and fine tune them. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to code Golden Eyes. Someone who’s bad at coding wouldn’t have been able to slim down the game that much from where it was. So it’s time I give myself the credit of someone who at least knows what they’re doing. I’m not adept at it, but I’m certainly not bad at it either.

I’m still expecting the game to end up over 500k words when all is said and done. It will not be one million words, but I’m actually kind of happy about that. This is proof I’m still working on this game, and the next time it updates, it will have new content. Thanks for those that are patient and stick around, your support does still genuinely mean a lot.

Please leave feedback.

Stay Brilliant,

-Vi

P.S. Please leave feedback.

🛡️Patreon | Forum Page | Demo Link🛡️

[wheredafandomat]

Home

Loki x mum! Reader

18+| contains alcohol, loss, Loki and reader share a child. I’m sorry I haven’t written anything in AGESSS

You quickly turned the radio off as the news reporter reeled off a string of recent burglaries that had happened in your neighbourhood. Grabbing your scarf, you adjusted it around your neck as you glanced at yourself in the mirror, offering a half smile as you tried not to focus on the bags colouring the skin beneath your eyes. You took a breath, your smile widening uncannily as your daughter padded towards you, half of her glove dangling off of her small hand.

“Is daddy going to be there?” She asked excitedly as you knelt down, helping her with her glove.

“No—not today” you hesitated “but one—one day he’ll be home” you rushed out, not believing your own words. The truth was, Loki hadn’t been home in almost a year. You didn’t know when he was going to come back, no one did. Unless they did and were just refusing to tell you. You took a steadying breath, cursing the fact that you no longer had the clearance to find out how the mission was going before doing what you had been doing since the day you lost communication. What you were taught. Assuming the worst. You faked a smile again, composing yourself before leaving.

Once you had come home from shopping, you unpacked before continuing the routine you had adopted since Loki had left. Making dinner, alone. Feeding your daughter, alone. Putting her to bed, alone. Showering, alone. Having a glass of whine, which was a step you had added recently, alone. Going to bed, alone and cuddling a picture of Loki. A tear began to pool in the corner of your eye as you looked at the picture, a memory of him overtaking you.

“If you ever need me, just say my name three times” he assured, squeezing your shoulder.

You closed your eyes, holding the picture against you as his name left your trembling lips. You called it three times. Hoping, praying that he’d hear, that he’d come. But alas. Silence met your awaiting ears.

“Liar” you sniffled through tears before begging sleep to overtake you.

By the time the morning came, the warmish glow of the winter sun had covered your room, waking you up before your daughter did. The morning routine was similar to the night one in the sense that it was done alone now.

“We’re going to see Santa today baby” you smiled, pressing the porcelain mug against your lips as you sipped your coffee.

“Yayyy” she exclaimed, her spoon almost flying out of her hand as she threw her arms in the air.

Two hours and another cup of coffee later, there you were in the mall, the line for Santa's grotto alarmingly long. You took a breath, looking at the workers dressed as elves as they spoke to some of the children further up in the line than you.

“Are you excited to see Santa?” One of them exclaimed, smiling widely at your daughter who answered with the same amount of enthusiasm.

You narrowed your gaze slightly the closer you got to the front of the queue, the elves beginning to look slightly more real. You were no stranger to elves. Loki had taken you on a tour of the nines when you were an agent and Alfheim was one of them. But this wasn’t Alfheim.

“Quit staring lady” one of them interrupted your suspicions as you reached the front of the queue.

“Sorry” you spoke, clearing your throat.

Sitting on Santa’s lap, your daughter began listing the things she wanted for Christmas as you took some pictures before her time was over.

“And what about you?” Santa asked, surprising you.

“What?” You answered just above a whisper.

“What is it you want this Christmas?” He smiled generously, your eyes meeting as all words escaped you.

“I-I don’t—” you began.

“You can’t lie to me” he reminded you, your gazes still connected as you lost yourself in this stare.

“Loki” you finally utter, truthfully. “I want Loki”

“Next” one of the elves called before you could even register what had happened. As if on autopilot, you picked your daughter up before heading home before performing the night routine, however this night, you felt off.

The following day rolled around and you took your daughter to her grandparents house.

“You are looking after yourself right” your mum asked, her eyes darting around your face.

“Yes mum” you huffed.

“You know you are still my baby” she reminded you.

“Yes mum” you answered in a softer tone.

“I’ll be round tomorrow with the angel” she smiled, looking at your daughter “don’t forget to stuff the turkey and preheat the oven to—”

“Yes mum” you quickly interrupted “bye mum.”

Getting home, you poured yourself a glass of wine before you began your food prep. Downing the liquid, you pourned yourself another, almost halfway through the bottle before pouring another. You began feeling what could only be described as tipsy before accidentally burning one of your fingers on the pot.

“Ouch” you yelped, running to the sink before putting it under cold water.

As you covered your finger in water, you looked down at it, unable to help the tears that escaped you, your eyes mirroring the tap. Just before you began to cry even more, you heard a crash upstairs, immediately sobering up as you turned the tap off. Suddenly the thousands you had spent on training to become an agent and the years you had spent on the frontline kicked in as you stealthily walked up the stairs. Whoever had broken in chose the wrong house you thought to yourself, remembering the burglaries. Following the noise, it led you to your bedroom as you carefully pushed open the door before gasping, your heart falling to the ground as your eyes met Loki’s dishevelled body laying in your bed. You honed in on the gash on his forehead, sprinting for gauze before you rushed to his side, clearing the blood. Disbelief shrouded you as you began to shake him awake.

“Lokiii, Lokiii” you called, half wondering how strong that wine was.

“Y/n?” You heard fondly, quietly as he stirred awake, you wrapping your arms around him.

The two of you embraced, no questions needing to be asked as your lips met. No words left either of your lips as you helped Loki into the bathroom, undressing him before turning the shower on. You didn’t leave his side, not wanting this potential mirage to fade into nothingness, not wanting Loki to leave again. As you guided him back into the bedroom, you still asked no questions, they could wait until tomorrow.

Wrapping your arms around one another, you embraced, the warmth of Loki’s arms around you, intoxicating you. Taking a deep breath, you breathed him in, your lips pressing against his exposed chest. You felt his lips on your forehead as you moved closer against one another. Home, you felt home.

Had to take a break from writing my assignment to write something Christmassy. Hope you enjoyed!! And I hope you have a wonderful Christmas if you celebrate ❤️

Tags in comments

[ghostgirl-22]

im imagining one of the many times patrick is begging to fuck art he suddenly says something like “just let me put the tip in at least baby” and art isn’t in the right mind to see why he shouldn’t cause theyre grinding against each other and licking into each other’s mouths so it shouldn’t be much different. patrick cums so quickly too

Whoops anon this is gonna be a 2 for 1. I hope you don’t mind <3 But Patrick begging made me think it’s perfect for the holiday challenge too so… here’s Art staying over a few nights during winter break. Post Patrick dragging him to his dad’s office Christmas party where him and his brother dressed up like Santa (for some Christmas themed reason) sorry this is all over the place anon. <3

Deck the halls 🎄💫

Day 15: Begging

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

Pair: Artrick

—-

“I think you’re so pretty,” Patrick whispers, he’s still wearing the santa hat, and coat, drunk on spiked egg nog. His dad doesn’t even celebrate Christmas but his office sure knows how to put on a Christmas party.

“Shut up,” Art says, but he’s smiling his stupid pretty little half smile.

They stole candy canes from the Christmas tree in the lobby of his dad’s office, even though Patrick’s stupid brother said they couldn’t. And thank god, because Art’s still sucking on his. Lips stained red, cheeks all flushed— Patrick meant it when he kept telling him all night he’d make the perfect Santa’s elf. “You just blush so yummy,” He teased relentlessly, “especially after Santa fucks you.” That was when Art pushed him away.

Art’s all risky business right now, nothing on but his dress shirt, boxers and socks. His slacks are draped over the chair in the corner of Patrick’s bedroom. He’d wanted them off since he spilled a bit of egg nog on them and Patrick teased him for the way it stained.

Patrick grabs at Arts tie and he steps closer to where Patrick’s sitting on his bed, stopping between Patrick’s legs as Patrick loosens it.

“Come sit on Santa’s lap,” Patrick says, grinning.

Art rolls his eyes, but he’s so soft about it. “You’re so stupid when you drink. You know that right?”

“Come on, sit on my lap. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“The perfect backhand,” Art says.

“I’m Santa, not Jesus,” Patrick points out and Art shoves him. Patrick laughs and grabs onto his arm pulling him closer still, takes him by the waist and lifts at his dress shirt. “Come on, lemme fuck you.”

“Don’t do that— they’re right next door,” Art says, pulling the candy cane from his mouth and turning to look at the closed door like Patrick’s brother and his wife are just going to appear in his room out of thin air. When they don’t, he pops it back into his mouth. Patrick keeps touching him. He’s not concerned about how close they are, they’re really boring and Patrick is 100 percent certain they’re probably already asleep.

But he tries to ease Arts nerves anyway. “Please. I promise I’ll be quiet,” Patrick sighs, talking to Art’s pretty waist. Art’s got the perfect little belly button. Patrick presses his lips there and feels Art suck it in as he tangles his fingers into Patrick’s hair.

“What are you doing?” He giggles cause he’s ticklish and he pushes Patrick’s head away for the same reason.

“Trying to fuck you,” Patrick sighs. He gets to his feet and he’s suddenly in Art’s face. Art steps back but Patrick steps closer and pulls the candy cane out of Art’s mouth. He presses his lips there instead. Art opens up for him right away. His kisses are sweet like peppermint. And he’s licking and sucking on Patrick’s tongue as if he tastes like candy too. Patrick settles on the edge of the bed again excited at the way Art’s following him. He crawls onto Patrick’s lap so he can keep kissing. Patrick’s hard. Like cut diamonds hard, he’s been halfway there all night. He’s going insane at Art’s tendency to mindlessly grind against it. He’s imagining thrusting inside him, imagining how Art would feel, how he’d react. Art’s already so sensitive all over. Almost like his body was made for sex, Patrick just wants to test it out.

Patrick lays back on the bed resting on his elbows and he puts the candy in his own mouth watching as Art blinks himself into awareness now that he’s not kissing Patrick’s mouth anymore. Patrick can tell he still wants to grind. His hips aren’t moving fast but he’s still gently rolling them along the bulge in Patrick’s pants.

”Fucking please.” Patrick says, quietly. “All I want for Christmas is just to nut in you just once.”

“You’re so fucking…” Art licks his lips. He’s breathless. Kiss swollen. Flushed. Every time Patrick thinks he couldn’t possibly want him more, he gets prettier.

“I will fucking do anything,” Patrick begs. He says, undoing the buttons on Arts dress shirt.

“Patrick,” Art says matter of factly. “Your brother is next door.”

“And I’ll be so quiet. And if you need to you can moan into my pillow. Please. Pretty please. I wanna fill you up and watch it spill out.”

“You’re disgusting,” Art says softly, but he’s squirming.

“I know, I know I am,” Patrick grins, he bites into the candy cane, finishing it off. “But you like it.”

God the blushing. The way he can’t sit still. Patrick hopes he doesn’t lose it in his fucking pants before he even gets inside or all this begging will be for nothing.

“I um— I don’t think I can— your so— so much, Patrick, ” Art says, suddenly shy.

Patrick can’t help himself. He’s grinning like crazy. “Just tell me it’s too big. Tell me it won’t fit.”

“You’re such a freak, ‘m not sayin that,” Art says, he’s blushing something fierce. “I’m just saying…”

“Fine fuck it… what if it’s just the tip? Lemme put in the tip.”

Art sighs, a little smirk on his lips. “You’re so fucking obsessed.”

“Yeah well fucking look at you, princess. Of course I’m obsessed.” Patrick groans. He’s undone all the buttons on Arts shirt and he’s fixating on Art’s bare chest, his perky pink nipples.

Art rolls his eyes at the “princess” comment and Patrick grabs at either side of his shirt and pulls him into another kiss. It’s only moments before Art’s gasping into his mouth and Patrick’s sure if they keep this up he’s gonna come hard in his pants. He rolls them over so he can get Art on his back. And slowly, he pulls back from the kiss. Art’s following, sitting up on his elbows.

“Can I please? Just the tip, baby, pretty pretty please?” Patrick begs.

Art bites his lip and then nods. Patrick doesn’t waste any time, he tugs at Art’s boxers. Slides them off.

Art falls into a sudden fit of giggles and Patrick can’t help smiling at him. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “It’s your santa hat. I just started thinking about you putting me on the naughty list if I didn’t blow you or something.”

Patrick laughs, he’d forgotten he was wearing it still. He pulls it off his head and gives it to Art. Pulls the coat off and drops it on the floor so he’s only in his t-shirt. “For the record I think you’re just the nicest boy.” Patrick says, looking over his dick. It’s so pretty, flushed purple and so full it’s resting heavy on his tummy. “So so nice.”

“You’re so fucking horny, shut up,” Art whispers and Patrick laughs and undoes his own pants kicking them off. Art’s just watching him. “If you put in more than the tip I’m gonna scream and wake up your brother.” He says quietly as Patrick eases himself out of his boxers. It’s clear he’s getting nervous but the way he says it makes Patrick snicker.

“I’m sure you will.” He says smirking as he rubs his palm over Art’s upper thigh. “I have lube in there, it tastes like cotton candy.” Patrick says, gently. Gesturing to his night stand.

“You fucked someone else in here?” Art asks, curiously.

“My summer time girlfriend. But I bought it for you cause your so fucking special.”

“Cotton candy?” Art makes a face.

“Shut the fuck up and get it.”

Art rolls over and pulls open the drawer, digging around. Patrick’s fixating on his ass. He rubs it gently. Almost climbs on top of him and pushes the head in right then and there. There’s so many things he wants to do to this ass. He’s seen Art’s bare bottom quite a few times when they were in school together, Art coming out of the shower. Patrick acting like he’s fine and then sneaking into the bathroom afterwards to touch himself.

“You have a lot of weed,” Art says as he pulls out a bottle from his night stand and inspects it. Same little unimpressed look on his face.

“Taste it,” Patrick says.

“Ew,” Art says.

“Fine give it,” Patrick says and snatches it away from him. He pulls one of Art’s legs up onto his shoulder to get him closer and Art does the same with his other leg. He’s just got on socks and the open dress shirt. Patrick wants him so bad. He wants him so fucking bad. Wants to be balls fucking deep in him for hours. At least an hour. Just wants to fuck him like crazy till he’s falling apart on his dick.

He coats himself in lube. Art’s holding his breath, there’s a wet spot on his tummy from where his dick is leaking. Patrick lines himself up and Art’s inhaling as Patrick presses up against his hole.

Fuck. He’s not sure if he’s gonna be able to fucking do this. Art’s so feverishly warm and virgin tight. Patrick’s struggling just to get the head in.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes. “Oh fuck, you’ve never even put your fingers in here, have you? Holy shit.”

“W-why would I d-do that?” Art whines, pitched too high and too soft. Squirming beneath him. Patrick shivers.

“Fuck me, I’m gonna fucking lose it.” Patrick says breathlessly as he slowly, so achingly slowly, feels Art’s body open up around the head of his dick.

Art is making these little whiny noises, each sound going straight to Patrick’s dick. He can’t sit still, he’s wiggling like crazy and it’s barely… fucking… in.

“Holy shit,” Patrick gasps, he’s throbbing, aching. He strokes himself twice and he’s halfway fucking done.

“Oh my… fuck… oh Patrick it feels so….mm weird,” Art whines. And it’s too fucking much. Patrick pushes just a little more in… thinks he might just start fucking him… but it’s pointeless because just that little bit of movement combined with Art’s whining and wiggling and Patrick is suddenly gasping through one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had.

“Fuck,” Patrick gasps breathlessly as he slips out, all his spend leaking out just after. “Goddamnit,” he groans. He’s literally never come that fucking fast in his life.

”Mm,” Art giggles. “I kinda like the tip.”

“Fuck,” Patrick sighs again, running his fingers tips along Arts legs. “You did that to me. You make me fucking insane.”

”I didn’t do anything,” Art says, grinning. “And you didn’t either.” He adds. He’s such a fucking brat.

Patrick adjusts Art’s legs so they’re on either side of Patrick’s waist and he leans over, buries his head against Art’s neck and shoulder, placing little kisses there. All while grabbing onto his dick. Art starts moaning right away as Patrick jerks him. He lasts longer than Patrick but not that much more before Patrick feels the wet hot spurt of liquid spilling between their bodies.

Patrick collapses on top of him when Arts finished. Feels him trying to catch his breath. He curls his fingers into Patrick’s hair and Patrick kisses at his throat, finishing a hickey he’d started.

“Next time I’m just gonna fuck you,” Patrick breathes against his throat.

Art snorts, “And who knows? Maybe you’ll last longer than 30 seconds.”

“So then you agree? I get to fuck you next time,” Patrick says, grinning up at him.

Art rolls his eyes, but there’s hope— because he’s smiling too.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Hogwarts AU [pt. 1]

The first time Tim sees him, he is seven, standing by his Father's side, and bored out of his mind.

The 'party' is numbingly dull, full of adults, sparkling flutes of champagne, tiny sandwiches, and fake twinkling laughter. Tim doesn't understand how his parents find any of it interesting; in his opinion, nothing about just talking to people for hours and hours straight sounds as exciting as they make it look.

He wishes he could just go home already. Not that his time in the Drake estate gets any more exciting than bothering house elves or spending his day in the library, but it's still better than this.

Or, Tim thought so until he heard the unmistakable sound of glass shattering on the floor.

He turns around, and there are yelps and screams of surprise and angry swearing. It takes Tim a few seconds to realize what's going on - a few people are holding their hands to their faces, like trying to hide them, and he gets a glimpse of an elephant trunk peeking through the palms of one old lady.

And then, there's a sound of loud, delighted laughter ringing through the room, and the sound of footsteps, and-

"DANIEL!" Tim hears Mr. Masters, the host of the event, yell at the top of his lungs.

A moment later, Tim sees a boy zooming past him, elbowing the adults on his way to push through the crowd and still cackling like a madman. Tim doesn't get a good look at him, what with the boy running so fast he almost trips, but he does notice the messy black hair and the large, knitted blue sweater that looks too big on the boy's body.

"Daniel Jackson Fenton, come back this instant!" Mr. Masters calls again, his thunderous steps louder than all the yelling around them.

The boy doesn't even deign him with a look over his shoulder. Instead, he darts towards the nearest window, opens it with what seems to be practiced ease, and climbs on the windowsill. Only then does he look back to the chaos he created in the room full of respectable guests, and grins.

Tim blinks. He's never seen anyone smile like this, all teeth and mischief, and cheeky excitement.

"What, too old to catch me, Vlad?" He sticks his tongue at Mr. Masters, and just for a moment, Tim is scared the man is going to lunge at him. Yet, right as Mr. Masters gets close enough, the boy pushes off and jumps out the window, his laughter echoing through the night.

Mr. Masters looks like he is about to follow - and Tim is, for once, curious to see if he would - but stops himself short, only leaning out the window.

"Don't bother coming back, you little badger, you are grounded!" The man yells. The only response he gets is another fit of distant cackling from the gardens.

"That is sure a way to entertain the crowd," Father says quietly, and the tall, dark-skinned woman he's been talking to before the whole mess happened snorts a short laugh.

Tim looks back to the few people who are still sporting elephant trunks for their noses.

It's the first time he thinks a party full of adults in stuffy robes can be more fun than he expected.

—☆—☆—☆—

Some visuals for v i b e s

The room where the scene took place:

Tim's drawing after he was back home from the party (house elves helped):

[Picrew]

—☆—☆—☆—

I have the vaguest possible idea of where I'm going, but this is definitely going to be a multichapter thing.

A few notes I've got pinned down so far:

Drakes are a mostly pureblood family, not filthy rich and straight up focused on the whole purity thing, but keeping their reputation clean and nice, and their income stable. Both Jack and Janet have attended Hogwarts, and they were both Ravenclaws while they were at it. Janet might have some relation to Blacks, but it's so distant that she doesn't bother keeping it in mind.

Vladimir Masters is, technically, a pureblood wizard, but his family has been in England for only two or so generations. His grandma (who is still very much alive) came from Russia after falling madly in love with Vlad's grandpa (who is now deceased and, as the rumor goes, his wife had a hand in it). He also attended Hogwarts and has been a Ravenclaw in the same year as Madeline Fenton nee Walker. Hence, Daniel Fenton is his godson and, unofficially, as of right now, heir to Masters family.

[part 2 ->]

[frostsinth]

Your Heart's Got Teeth - Pt. 4

Part 1|2|3 - Masterlist

Here, have another part! More juicy. Language warning. Likes, reblogs, and comments are my writing fuel!

I've pretty much written this piece out to its end, just have to fill in the gaps between the scenes. Already plotting my next project... DM me suggestions if you want.

-----

“Jamie!”

“Curt!”

“Bal!”

The cries and shouts of glee filled the air, more and more names, more and more exclamations of relief, or joy, or love. I watched as each young man embraced his family. Watched tears well in eyes, watched souls shatter as the reality of what had happened settled on their faces. More than two dozen men in all, perhaps more. It had never been a large village, but now, it felt almost hollow. The men once prisoners now staggering about on legs they hadn’t properly used in weeks. Half the number the village had been prior to the attacks, not including the soldiers who had also entrenched themselves within the walls prior to.

None of them walked among the men now returning.

I stayed on the roof where I had been attempting to patch one of half a dozen holes. Watching the heartfelt reunions. Uncertain how to feel. The orc guards who had brought the men down the hill lingered at the edge of the village square, also watching. Though I had to admit, they looked a bit bored. Not begrudging or upset that they had to release the men, as I would have thought they might have been. I placed the hammer down, slipping back to the window and into the house. Suddenly feeling terribly, terribly useless and alone.

I snuck out the back, away from the crowds and reunions. There was no one there looking for me, I knew. And I wasn’t in the mood for being shuffled about to say some awkward welcomes or blessings to men I had only met maybe once or twice before in my life if at all.

I went to the edge of the square, noting a patrol of orcs lounging in their usual place. They looked up as I neared them, but made no move to stop me. I considered that, so different from previous days, and decided to test it further. Walking quietly towards them. Their eyes followed me, yet I passed them by unmolested. Out into the streets of the now decimated village. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was just out of eye shot, feeling a moment of glee fill my chest.

So the bastard had made good on his word. I felt my lips twitch. Without prompting… And with additions. My feet hurried as I realized my newfound freedom, limited though it was. I made my way to the village edge, past a few other patrols who only made note of my passage. Not slowing until I passed under the half ruined gate and the stone wall was behind me.

Now I stopped, turning my face up towards the sun. Closing my eyes and taking in a deep breath. It wasn’t much, I admitted. But it was something.

“Calliope!” Came the excited call, and I turned. Resisting the urge to sigh.

“Izu’lemi.” I replied as the lanky tween walked up with a crooked grin on his face. “You’re starting to make a habit of this.”

He cocked his head to one side. “Of what?”

“Appearing out of thin air whenever things around here suddenly improve.” I glanced over our shoulders, back towards the village’s main road. I noticed a few guards lingering along the remains of the wall, watching us, and resisted the urge to sigh again. At least there were no villagers around. “Are you following me?”

“No,” He said with a shake of his head, “My father had me clearing rubble from one of the stairwells, so that we can access the top of the wall again.” He pointed out the spot a few yards down. “I saw you walk by. Why, what happened?”

I crossed my arms, tapping the fingers of one hand on the opposite. “The men were released.”

“That’s good, right?” He mused. “Is that one of the things you asked father for?”

I paused a moment, the realization fully dawning on me. “… No. It’s not.”

“Oh.” The youth seemed to think about that for a moment, then shrugged a little. “Maybe he got tired of managing the guard shifts.”

I looked towards the hill, just visible above the rooftops, as if I could see the orc chief’s tent from here.

“I doubt it.”

More than likely he had other reasoning. One far more sinister. I wondered if perhaps he intended some other punishment, or thought to keep all the cattle together rather than separate. I tapped my fingers again, then looked over at the younger orc. Realizing belatedly he had spoken.

“What?”

“I said, what are you going to do first?” He repeated. “Now that you can leave the square?”

I turned towards the woods. “I need to go hunting.”

“I think you need permission.” Izu’lemi said. “Cuz it’s further than where we can see on top of the wall.”

“Right, how long will that take?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. You’d be the first to ask.” He gave me a lopsided grin. “I can ask for you. The kil’wan is friendly with me.”

“The what?” I asked.

Izu’lemi stratched the side of his head. “Ah… it means… umm.” His brow scrunched up. “Leader? But not like my father. Below him. The warriors listen to him, but he listens to my father.”

“Captain.” I reasoned, and he shrugged.

“Yeah maybe. But I can ask him for you.” Then his grin returned. “Maybe I can ask to be your guard!”

“Izu’lemi,” I sighed at his eagerness, looking down at the ground, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“But-”

“You don’t owe me anything. Life debts aside,” I added quickly, raising one hand even as the protest formed on his lips, “I’m too old for you. You should marry someone you actually like.”

“But I do like you!” He argued.

I raised a brow at him. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He winced a bit at my sharp tone. “Well, maybe you should tell me.”

“I’m not the sharing type.”

Izu’lemi’s bottom lip jutted out stubbornly. “Then I’ll just follow you around. Until I figure it out.”

I almost groaned. “Don’t do that.”

His grin returned. “Then just tell me something. And I won’t have to.”

“Fine. I’m not marrying some kid.”

His face fell, which made a little pang of regret stab my heart, and his pouting lip returned. “I’m not a kid… and I’m not marrying you yet. I’ll be an adult when we do-”

“Izu’lemi-”

“You can call me ‘Izu’ if you want.”

“Izu’lemi.” I repeated firmly. “You are a kid. You not going to want to marry me when you’re not a kid. Just let it go.”

“I’m thirteen.”

“Congratulations. You’re still a kid.”

“I’m not-”

“I’m thirty-three.” I interrupted. “When you’re twenty-three, I’ll be forty-three. When you’re forty, I’ll be sixty.”

He chewed at his lip. “… That’s fine. I don’t mind.”

“Because you don’t understand.” I sighed, putting my hands on my hips. “You will, I hope. Someday sooner rather than later.”

“You can wait for me.” He told me eagerly, and now I did groan. It was like talking to a brick wall.

“You’re as thick headed as your father.” I muttered. Then turned and headed back into the village. Resisting the overwhelming heaviness that settled on my shoulders as I passed beneath the stone gate.

“Where are you going?” Izu’lemi called.

I heard him jogging after me, and sighed again. “… I’ve got to see someone.”

“Can I come?”

“No.”

He scoffed lightly. “Well, you need a guard.”

“Not within the walls.”

I saw him chew at his lip out the corner of my eye. “But I could come. Just to make sure no one bothers you.”

“Izu’lemi.” I spun on him, my face scrunched in frustration. “You want to learn something about me? I like to be alone. Alone alone.” I clarified as I saw him opening his mouth. “It’s better if I’m alone. I am not a nice person.”

“You’re nice to me.” He argued.

“Sometimes. Don’t make me regret that.”

He sighed, then reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “Ok… I’ll see you later, I guess.” He turned slightly, looking back at the wall. “Inu’u gave me a bunch of things to do. To help the camp. So I guess I’ll do that.”

“Good.” Came another familiar voice, and I groaned again. “You can do as you’re told.”

We turned together to face Jou’kiel as he approached, another orc at his shoulder that I didn’t recognize. I saw his eyes flicker over me, felt my heart flutter a bit. Suddenly remembering the softer way his face had looked the last time I had seen him. Wondering what he remembered from that night. He glanced at the other orc, grunting something in orcish which had them chuckling. I felt my ears burn hot and a scowl returned to my face.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Don’t you have anything nice to say?” He replied in Common, then gestured towards the square. “I thought you’d be more grateful.”

“Grateful you’re not a complete bastard?” I asked. “Grateful you realized you were being inhumane?”

He jerked his thumb at himself, returning my scowl. “Not human. Orc. Definition of ‘inhuman’.”

“Definition of idiot.” I retaliated. “I said ‘inhumane’. Barbarous. Brutal. Cruel.”

He shoved his finger at me, snarling a bit. “You should watch your mouth. And I thought I told you to stay away from my son.”

“Inu’u, you can’t order her away!” Izu’lemi cried, shoving himself between us. “She’s going to be my mate, whether you like it or not.”

“Oh save me the dramatics,” I half mumbled in a bitter tone, “I was just leaving anyway.”

“Good. Fall in a pit somewhere and stay there.”

“Go to hell and take your horde with you.” I shot back.

Then I turned and marched away, ignoring Izu’lemi’s farewell and the smattering of angry orcish that rose in the wake of my exit. I couldn’t resist a glance over my shoulder though. And found a pair of copper-yellow eyes staring after me. I straightened, pretending I hadn’t noticed, ducking around the next corner.

My feet knew the path well, even if the streets were not what they once were. It was the only place I would have visted regularly when coming to the village. Even with buildings crumbled in my path, even with orcs wandering the alleys between. Even without really thinking about it. I followed the same trail towards the back side of the village that I had a thousand times before. Feeling myself sink a bit into my thoughts, finding my feet slowing as I approached the old rickety fence off the beaten path.

The winter frost had kept the weeds from overgrowing during our containment in the square. And the site was far enough away from the nearest building that it almost felt as if the invasion hadn’t reached here. There was some errant rubble. A few burn marks where a stray fire might have made it before the cold, damp grass had prevented it from finding its way further. As I passed through the opening, I felt an eerie stillness settle over me. As if I had entered another world.

I walked past the other stones in the graveyard, to one in the back. Half hidden behind a scraggily tree. I reached out as I approached, lightly tracing my fingers over the top as I rounded the corner.

“Hey bud.” I said softly. “Sorry it’s been so long… I didn’t want anyone to know you were here. Hope you’ve been good.”

I rubbed my brother’s tombstone, absentmindedly clearing some dirt. My fingers lingering over the etching of his name. Remembering carving it myself as carefully as I could through thick tears more than five years prior. I slowly settled in front of the stone. Brushing aside the leaves. Trimming back some of the weeds.

“You’d have been excited.” I told him. “Having orcs here.” I smoothed my skirts down, staring at my hands. “And you would’ve thought it’s funny, that some kid wants to marry me.” I glanced at the stone forlornly. “I hope you’re having a good laugh, wherever you are.” I choked a bit, swallowing hard. “… I miss your laugh. I could use your laugh about now.”

I sniffled, then rubbed the back of one hand at my eye stubbornly. Swallowing again, and looking around. Wondering if any of the other villagers would bother coming here now that they could… Wondering how many fresh graves would be added once the ground thawed. Or if only tombstones would. Being that they had no bodies left to bury…

“I’m such an idiot.” I told the cold stone, my voice frightfully weak. “I should never have let that stupid kid go. I should never have… Ugh.” I rubbed at my face with both hands, feeling them shake as I did. “If the villagers ever find out that I’m…” I stopped, my voice breaking. “… I wish you were here. I wish you could tell me it’s not my fault. Even though it is. Gods above… I can’t believe how much I miss you sometimes.” I rubbed at my eye with the back of my hand again. “I miss your hugs. I miss your smile. I even miss the goofy jokes you made.” I choked again, my throat feeling tight. “… The villagers still hate me. They pretend they don’t, but maybe now that the men are back they’ll remember. That I’m angry and bitter and awkward.” I sighed, shaking my head a little. “They should hate me now more than ever, even if they don’t know why.”

I stared off towards the square, my face blank. My heart feeling numb and achy. Letting the cold seep into my legs through the frozen ground. Feeling the tips of my fingers fall asleep with the chill. The balls of my cheeks tingled with the cold too, and I felt the stinging of it at the tips of my ears. Still I sat for a long time. Wishing I could sleep, but unable to remember the last time I had been able to without the screams filling my ears. Without the guilt racking my chest.

I sniffled again, then rubbed at my nose.

“… You’d have liked Izu’lemi.” I said softly, still staring off at the village. “He’s a lot like you, in some ways… Maybe how you could’ve been, if things had been different.” I scoffed lightly, dropping my gaze to my hands. “Not at all like his father. The picture of big and stupid.” My heart skipped suddenly as I remembered Jou’kiel’s hand around mine. Remembered the smell of him as he had leaned across me. “… He’s annoying too.” I continued stubbornly. “And cocky. And arrogant… The man is like a barn; big, but full of straw and shit.” My lips almost twitched into a smile. “Gods only know how he does anything. So full of hot air, I’m surprised a stray needle hasn’t popped him yet.” I glanced back at my brother’s tombstone, falling quiet. Thinking for a moment. “… You probably would’ve liked him too.” I admitted. “You liked everyone. And Jou’kiel is…” I stopped again, then shook my head. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter does it?” I sighed, reaching out and laying my palm flat against the rock. “You’re just a stone now… though you’re still a good listener…” I dropped my hand and sniffled a final time. “I should get back. Before someone does something stupid… I owe them that. More than they know.”

I stood slowly, brushing my hands down my skirt, then running my hand over the stone a final time. Silently promising to come back soon. I didn’t say anything else though. I could never actually say ‘goodbye’ outloud. I stubbornly pretended I had never realized that, as I did every time I visited, and wiped at my face. Clearing my throat and straightening myself out.

Stomping back to the village with a scowl fixed back in place.

------

Some men had never come back, and some had found they had nothing to come back to. There was some prayers said, now that we could fully assess who was missing. But the pressing issue of being able to survive the winter took the majority of people’s focus.

With those men that had returned, it was faster to gather wood. Soon the forest line had receeded an extra few yards for all the trees cleared from it. The women gathered what they could from the bushes there as well, and were able to sow a few of the small fields within eyeline of the wall. A few old stores were pulled out of cellars from those houses and the ones further from the square. Some clay and thatch was gathered from rubble and source alike. A few chickens were re-captured and brought into the village, as well as other livestock that had escaped their pens and managed to survive the few weeks untended.

I set snares and traps at the treeline. Away from the lumbermen. I persuaded an orc at the wall to lend me his huge bow and arrows while he watched, and shot a few geese that had dared fly too close to the village. I missed my own bow. Their bow had been hard to wrangle, but with some jest and some broken pointers, the orcs had taught me the best way to manage it. They seemed amused, and perhaps a bit impressed with my skill as a hunter. I made a point not to linger.

Overall, I avoided orcs and villagers alike as best I could. Preferring to keep to myself as I always had. Waiting for formal permission to leave to hunt. Escort or otherwise, I itched to get as far from the village as I could. Wondering if I would be permitted to go to my cabin, or if I would have to make due with the hunting supplies I could garnish from the orcs.

I was getting more and more restless. It didn’t help that I still wasn’t sleeping very much. That I still stayed in the drafty attic of one of the most decrepit buildings in the square. So when the quickly raising voices reached me, I was more than willing to track down the source only a few buildings down from my own make-shift shelter.

I found two orcs shoving each other back and forth in one of the less sturdy buildings still mostly standing. A fact very evident considering one half of the building was completely gone. Leaving the brawl visible to the square. I heard the villagers shouting their protests, but the brutes didn’t seem to hear them. And the villagers weren’t interested in getting any closer to make sure they did.

I had no such qualms, and ducked through the remains of the doorway.

“Hey, dumbasses!” I shouted at them.

They paid me no mind, the largest grabbing the other by the shoulders, then slamming him against the wall. The whole building shook, and I looked up at the ceiling warily. I had to jump to the side a minute later as the two orcs toppled and rolled across the ground. Slamming into the opposite wall and sending a shudder through the remaining stone again.

I reached down, picking up one of the newly loosed stones, and chucked it at the biggest orc. He froze, shoving his opponent back. Looking over his shoulder at me.

“Knock it off!” I said.

I had their attention now, and they turned almost as one to address me. Slugging each other a final time before climbing to their feet. The biggest taking a lumbering step forward. Baring his teeth.

I pointed to the half crumbled ceiling, then gestured around to the building at large.

“You idiots are going to knock it down on yourselves.”

If they understood me at all, they made no sign of it. Another lumbering step, another angry snarl. The other orc gathered closer, shoving at the first as they rallied for space. Which had them shoved back heavily into the wall, and the building shook and groaned again. I glanced about warily, then back at the biggest orc.

“Are you stupid??” I demanded, then pointed to the door. “Go fight somewhere else!”

I barely dodged his swinging fist and staggered back a few steps. The pair shoved at each other, then advanced towards me. In my haste to avoid being struck, I had moved away from the door, and now found myself effectively cornered. Realizing that with each angry stomping foot, the building became more and more likely to collapse.

But the pair were obviously not of joint determination. They shoved at each other again as they approached, then fully spun at each other to roar. Slamming each other into the wall. Shaking the foundations again. Perhaps fighting over who got to kill me. I grabbed another rock, chucking it at them. Then another. They snarled, spinning back on me. One even went so far as to pick up a stone as well. I ducked and it crashed into the remains of the wall behind me, and I felt mortar fall into my hair.

“Idiots!” I snapped, making sure to manuver back towards the door. I moved to pick up another rock. Even craned my arm back to launch it at them in retaliation. Hoping to draw them out that way.

Something firm grabbed my wrist, halting the throw before I could fully swing it forward. Twisting and forcing the rock to drop from my grip. I kicked instinctively, and heard an irritated grunt. Then the offender swung me fully around towards them.

“By the gods,” Jou’kiel groaned, “Why is it always you?”

I wriggled in his grasp, my scowl growing. “They are obviously punishing me.”

He tossed my hands back to me, turning and speaking to the other orcs angrily in their native tongue for a moment. The orcs grunted almost as one, shooting me a disapproving look. Then turned and made their way out of the building.

“I don’t know who is worse,” Jou’kiel sighed, switching back to Common as he returned his attention to me, “You or Izu.”

“I’m not a child.”

“You act like one.”

“I act like a child??” I snapped. “You are the one stomping around in a tantrum all the time.”

He growled, stalking a few paces around me. “Why are you even here? This building-”

“Could come down at any minute.” I interrupted, which had him glancing around warily. “And your stupid warriors were playing with its frame. Asking for it to collapse onto innocents in the next building over.”

“You have no authority to force them out.”

“I have the right to keep us safe!” I argued. “None of you have brains enough to do it!”

His growl filled his chest, his face, and his brow dark. “Quiet yourself,” He warned, “Or I’ll do it for you.”

“What, don’t want your warriors to hear you being scolded like a child?” I quipped, not bothering to lower my voice. “Or don’t want your prisoners to see that you are an idiot?”

Jou’kiel leered over me, his scowl deepening. “Don’t push me, huntress. I have been civil-”

“Civil?” I interrupted angrily. “You call this civil?? Of all the arrogant, bull-headed-”

He grabbed my arm roughly as he bared his teeth, then stopped, shaking his head. Glancing around angrily.

“Come with me.” He hissed instead, already dragging me behind him without waiting for a response.

“Let me go!” I half shouted, trying to tear my arm free.

He dragged me out of the building, then down the street. I saw a few of the orcs raise their heads as we passed, saw a few eyes peek out from behind shuttered windows. I punched at his arm with my free hand, but found it hurt my knuckles more than it seemed to faze him. Deciding instead to try and dig in my heels. Both made little difference, and I staggered after him as he steadfastly plowed forward. Finally ducking into a building a few yards away and slamming the door behind us so hard the foundation rattled.

He tossed me free, and I glared up at him angrily.

“What is your problem??”

“YOU.” He snapped. “YOU are my problem, you foul, irritable, bane of my existence.”

I scowled at him. “What, for saving your stupid orcs from being crushed alive?”

“Not-”

“Or for saving your stupid son?”

His eyes darkened and he bared his teeth at me again. “Don’t.”

I tossed up my hands. “Maybe for making you realize you aren’t just ‘passing through’. That the people here aren’t just ‘unfortunate ramifications’.”

Jou’kiel stalked closer, glowering at me. “Do you really think yourself high and mighty?” He snarled. “So beyond repercussion?”

“Well, I’m certainly no prince.” I jeered.

He nearly shook, gesturing angrily with his hands. “You have no idea what I have done. What I have sacrificed. Don’t you dare judge me.”

“Should I let you judge me??” I shot back. “Should I just roll over and accept your boot on my back?” I waved my own hands about dramatically. “The poor little prince. He does suffer so.”

I almost jumped as Jou’kiel let out a roar, his jaw dropping wide and baring his huge teeth. Spittle shooting out as he shook his head and threw his arms wide. One massive stride and he closed the distance between us. Shoving me against the wall before punching it with his fist so hard mortar trickled down on us. I refused to give him the satisfaction of flinching, fixing him with an angry glare.

“Gods above!” He snarled at me, his Common more harsh with the effort of using it in his rage, his hands reaching as if to strangle me, “I don’t ever know if I want to KILL you or… Or…”

He stopped short, breathing so heavily his broad shoulders heaved. His copper eyes hot and blazing as they stared me down. I glared back at him, feeling my heart in my throat. My own chest fluttering with nerves. Feeling a sound heat rising in me, feeling goosebumps race across my skin. He was so close, his hot breath splashed across my face. His nose practically brushed mine, and his thick braids were like a curtain around us. Shielding us in our own private bubble. Away from time and place.

“Or what?” I dared press breathlessly.

He let out a hefty huff which had the ends of my hair shifting in its wake. I noticed him shift closer, noticed his big muscles seeming to quiver with restraint. His fingers twitching as he pressed his palms against the wall. I felt my own tense at the sight.

“Or what??” I snapped again impatiently, unable to stand the coil of my nerves, and he growled, “Or WHAT, you big, stupid-”

I jumped as he suddenly crashed his mouth against mine.

The kiss was quick, and harsh. Almost painful. Even when he tore away a breath later, I felt the shape of his mouth on mine. I fell back following it and let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. My lips feeling like they were on fire. He stood there, panting a little, his hooded eyes flicking back down to my mouth. His big tongue tracing the inside of his.

My hand had come up instinctively with his movement, as if to push him away. But now, I felt it rest against the bare skin of his collar. Felt my breath sputter and skip. Felt my heart race and my face flush. He shifted slightly, and I shifted with him. More attuned to his body than I was my own. I tilted my head back, my hand inching up to trace along his thick neck. As if it had always been there. Feeling the anticipation building between us as the realization of our shared interest spread.

Then it snapped. And he plowed back in, breaking the tension with his mouth against mine once more. I responded eagerly this time. Grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into me. Feeling his hand go from the wall to my waist to curl my body against his. He bowed over me, encompassing me with his girth. Pinning me back to the wall a moment later as his lips greedily sought mine. His tusks pressed against my cheeks as his mouth worked against my own, and as I felt his thick tongue roll out I brought mine to meet it. Straining deeper, wider, to accommodate him. To suck in his heat as desperately as he sought mine. Feeling his hands grope and tug and pull. Bruising soft skin, pinning me first to his body, then to the wall, then back against his body as we writhed against each other.

I fed him a gasp as his hands caught under my thighs and he hoisted me up. Carrying me two steps to the left to plant my buttocks on a table there. It groaned as he leaned over me. Tearing our mouths apart only to bury his against the skin on my neck. There was a deep rumble of desire in his chest that rippled through me as he tugged my legs to either side of him. Submerging himself in my flesh. Kissing, licking, biting. Pushing the top of my blouse down to find the sensitive parts there. Feeling the hairs of his beard trail over my collarbone then between my breasts.

I wrapped my arms around his head. Running my hands over his braids. Squeezing my thighs around him. Letting my head roll back to allow him better access. He gave another rumble of pleasure, his groping hands eliciting another small gasp from me as his mouth worked across my skin. He pushed my skirt up further, pulled me closer to the edge of the table. Pressing himself against me through his furs.

I tried to shake my head. Tried to pull myself out of the heat that had engulfed me. Blinking rapidly and trying to draw in one deep breath amid the panting fever.

“Jou’kiel,” I breathed finally, my voice weak with want.

He growled against me. Leaning away at last only to plunge back to my mouth. I couldn’t help losing myself for a moment again there. Pulling him down with my hands cupped against the back of his head and neck. Relishing in the taste of his hot breath.

But a sudden rush of guilt filled me like a cold bucket of water. I turned away, pushing him back a little. He growled again, kissing my cheek, my jaw. Biting lightly at my ear.

“Jou’kiel,” I said again, more firmly.

He nibbled at my skin. “I like when you say my name.” He rumbled, his Common harsh with his arousal. His words hot against my flesh. “Especially with your cunt pressed against me.”

I let out a breathy huff. Struggling not to let myself be drawn in to his tidal wave again. Feeling the guilt slowly wrapping choking fingers around my lungs. I shook my head.

“We can’t.” I managed finally.

He pulled back sharply. Staring at me in surprise. His hands stilling, his heat ebbing.

“… What?”

I shook my head again. “We can’t do this.”

He ignored my hands attempting to push him further back for a moment. A small scowl forming in the corners of his mouth. Looking as though his brain was not fulling connecting my words with any meaning yet.

“Why the hell not?” He said finally.

“Just…” I struggled, fumbling with words. Then shoved him angrily. “Just get off me!”

He did step back. Dropping his hands. Staring at me a bit dumbfounded. He looked around, as if the answer he was looking for might be in the room with us. I rubbed my own hands across my face, trying to cool the heat still lingering.

“… Did you not… was this…” He looked back at me, confusion lining his face.

I dropped my hands, sighing. Trying unsuccessfully to fix my skirts still half bunched around my hips.

“We can’t let this happen again.” I told him. Finally sliding forward and dropping to my feet. Finding my legs a bit shaky.

“… So you did like it.” He reasoned. “You did want it.”

I refused to look at him. “It doesn’t matter.”

A low growl formed in his chest, and he shook his head. “Can’t stand the thought of sleeping with the enemy, is that it??” He shoved the nearest unfortunate item, which happened to be the table, and it slammed against the wall loudly, “Can’t bear the idea of your cunt being wet for me?”

I slowly fixed my blouse, my hands shaking. My heart aching in my chest. I blinked back tears, still staring at the ground. Then I set my jaw angrily.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” I grumbled.

He glaried at me with a fiery look in his eyes. “Don’t lie to yourself.” He shot back.

“I don’t need some stupid idiot groping me.” I snapped. “Go fuck one of your whores and leave me out of your horny rutting.”

That made him scoff, and he tossed up his hands angrily. “You think I need to pay to fuck??”

I scowled. “Obviously you ran out of coin to come sniffing after me.”

“You’re the irritating little bitch with the wet cunt.” He sneered. “Or maybe you realized you couldn’t take an orc even if you didn’t hate us?”

“Get your head out of your ass.” I said bitterly. “Or go drown in the river. Either way, just get the fuck away from me.”

His hands balled into fists. “You vile, wretched twat.” He growled. “If you think-”

“Just shut up and leave me alone.” I interrupted, spinning my back to him to stalk towards the door. My exit belittled by the strange softness of my voice.

He gave a grunt, but it sounded dismissive. I was happy to find my legs obeying me as I made my way to the door. Pulling it open and ducking out before I lost my battle to keep it all together.

To be continued...

[chilling-seavey]

Winter Warmers: Day 21 — Winter Storm

↳ Summary: A winter storm rocks England and wakes your children.

↳ Word Count: 606

↳ Winter Warmers Prompt List | The Way It Goes Masterlist

England was hit with a huge snow storm that year. Double digits of centimeters worth of snow fell overnight in what was compared to the blizzard of a decade. In the evening, when the snow had started, it was calm and exciting and the kids huddled together at the back door to watch the snowflakes fall gracefully to blanket the backyard in white. But, as the evening progressed and the kids were tucked into bed and you and George were going about your nighttime routines, the storm grew.

The winter winds whistled past the house, shrieking through the sealed tight windows and making your well kept home creak on its foundation. George was getting some end-of-season email-type work completed in the office while you struggled to hear your TV show over the howling winds. You paused the show and got up to glance out the front window, peering out at the tree-lined driveway as the boughs flailed unnervingly and the once-fluffy snowflakes now fell in angry almost ice-like sheets against the glass. 

With another strong gust of wind, the television and the lights flicked off for just a moment before turning back on. You let the curtain fall closed again and you stepped away from the window with a sigh. 

George appeared in the doorway to the living room with an unimpressed sigh, “The storm just knocked out the wifi and scrapped the email I was trying to send.”

“It’s insane out there.” you replied, returning to the couch and you tucked up a leg underneath you. 

George took your place at the front window and used his index finger to pull open a crack in the curtains to look through, “I’m surprised the house is still standing.”

He then let the curtains fall closed and walked over to join you on the couch, pulling a blanket from the lounge chair in the corner on his way. He barely got himself settled on the couch beside you before your daughter’s little frightened voice came calling down from upstairs, 

“Daddy!” 

You and George exchanged glances, both having silently expected at least one of your kids to be woken up by the raging storm. Your toddler daughter’s sweet voice sounded like she had been crying, obviously distressed from the storm and wanting comfort. He got up from the couch again and you followed, leaving the blanket behind to go check on her. 

The two of you had barely made it out of the living room when the toddler called again, her voice more urgent, louder, “Daddy!” 

George picked up the pace a little, taking the stairs two at a time gracefully to reach the second floor. Just down the hall was your daughter’s room, but the door was already partially open when he arrived. George pushed it open a little more to find both of your children snuggled up in her single bed. Behind the pink curtains, a tree branch rapped eerily on the window in the whistling wind.

Your daughter was slightly calmer, comforted by the embrace of her big brother, still sniffling but now quieter. Your son whispered to her softly, all six years of him already so emphatic and loving, having gotten out of bed to make sure she was okay. George lingered in the doorway for a moment and you joined him there, discovering the scene he looked over so fondly. You shared a proud smile with him, his arm going around your waist to pull you close to his side, watching your young children find comfort in each other. 

“We did well with them, I think.” George whispered to you.

You leaned into his side with a warm, “That we did.”

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[clarkeyhill]

English Love Affair |George Clarke

Smut. Fluff

The second day in London had been a whirlwind of sights, sounds, and the kind of quiet exhaustion that comes from trying to soak up a new city in a short time. By the evening, though, I felt rejuvenated—excited, even. Max and Andrew had invited me to a bar, promising good drinks, great company, and a chance to unwind. It sounded perfect.

When I arrived, the bar was already buzzing, its dim lighting and low hum of conversation wrapping around me like a warm blanket. Max waved me over enthusiastically, Andrew grinning beside him. With them was—George.

He stood out immediately, not just because of his dark, fitted jacket or the way he seemed to command attention without trying. It was his aura. There was a quiet openness to him, like he was unafraid of being seen for who he was, yet something about him remained distant, guarded. His voice carried a calm dominance, each word weighted with intent.

We exchanged introductions, and he gave me a small, knowing smile that sent a jolt through me. It wasn’t flirtatious, not exactly. It was something else entirely, something I couldn’t quite place.

The first round of cocktails came quickly, and we fell into easy conversation. Max and Andrew were their usual lively selves, recounting old stories and poking fun at each other. George was quieter but sharp, his occasional interjections landing with precision. He seemed content to let the others talk, his eyes lingering on me more often than not.

As the night progressed, the drinks flowed, and so did the laughter. But somewhere along the line, George’s demeanor shifted. His laid-back calm gave way to something more intense, more present. When I stood to go to the bar for another drink, he was suddenly beside me.

“I’ll get it,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I blinked at him, taken aback. “Oh, it’s fine, really. I can—”

“I insist,” he said, and there it was again—that sense of quiet dominance. Before I could protest further, he was placing the order, his body angled just slightly between me and the rest of the bar.

When we returned to the table, I noticed it wasn’t just me who had picked up on the shift. Max raised an eyebrow at George as he slid my drink in front of me. Andrew exchanged a look with him that was part confusion, part concern.

The moments that followed only heightened their curiosity. George seemed hyper-aware of my every move, his eyes scanning the room whenever someone got too close or lingered too long. At one point, a man bumped into me on his way to the bar, and before I could even react, George stepped in, his tone cold and clipped as he told the man to watch where he was going.

Max and Andrew weren’t subtle about their skepticism.

“Alright, George, what’s the deal?” Max asked, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve known her for what? Not even 24hours whats with the whole bodyguard act?"

Andrew nodded, his gaze flicking between George and me. “Yeah, mate, it’s a bit much. You’re acting like she's your… I don’t know, responsibility or something.”

George’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might brush it off. But then he looked at me, his eyes softer now, almost apologetic.

“I’m sorry if I’m coming on too strong,” he said, his voice low. “I just… I don’t like the idea of anything happening to you. London can be unpredictable.”

It was a strange answer, vague yet loaded. Max and Andrew still didn’t seem convinced, exchanging another look. I felt their concern, but I also couldn’t ignore the strange pull I felt toward George.

He was acting like he had some claim over me, and while a part of me bristled at the notion, another part—one I wasn’t ready to examine too closely—didn’t entirely mind. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that made me feel both protected and exposed in ways I hadn’t expected.

As the night wore on, Max and Andrew continued to watch him carefully, their protectiveness of me now matching his. And George, for all his guarded nature, seemed almost… possessive. It was disarming, intoxicating, and confusing all at once.

When we finally stepped out into the cool London air, George offered to walk me back to my hotel. Max and Andrew hesitated. But I found myself agreeing, curiosity and something deeper urging me to see where this strange night might lead.

As we walked, the city quiet around us, George’s earlier intensity seemed to fade. He spoke more freely now, his voice gentler, though still carrying that undercurrent of control.

“Tonight… I might’ve overstepped,” he admitted, glancing at me. “But there’s something about you. I don’t know what it is yet, but it’s there.”

I didn’t know what to say. His words were bold, startling, and yet they resonated in a way I couldn’t deny.

The night had started as a simple outing with friends, but it had turned into something else entirely—something charged, unexpected, and impossible to forget. As I reached the door of my hotel, I couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of my time in London would bring—and whether George would be part of it.

[cellythefloshie]

;; A Secret for Christmas 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂𝓼 from cellythefloshie

Summary: Katie had long abandoned trying to search for new romance, especially during the holiday season. But when her son’s teammate, Jeremy Swayman, joins them for the holidays, Katie can't ignore the memory of the night they once shared together in Boston a year prior. Will Jeremy’s persistence chip away at her defenses? Will Katie risk it all for a chance at a lust she never expected? Sequel to: Mama Bear. Kinks & Tropes: Age Gap (24 v. 41). Divorcee. Alcohol Consumption. Secret Hookup. Protected Sex. - If I missed something, yell at me. ABOUT THE OC’s: Katherine: AKA Katie. Face Claim: Bryce Dallas Howard. 40's. Mother of Parker Waylon-Stacy. Parker: Face Claim: Michael Provost. Boston Bruin's Forward. Dorthey: AKA Dottie. Face Claim: Kate Hudson. Best friend of Katherine. Word Count: 13k+ A/N: Another year has passed, and in almost that exact time, we return to Katie and Jeremy. I am not lying to you when I say that this fic has been planned since January. It has been a painful wait for me to have to wait to write/post this. For months I would return to my outline and read it with great excitement. I am so deeply satisfied to be able to finally share this with you all, and to have this fic be the last one I will write for 2024. (Though, a New Years fic has been queued, this is the last one I will be writing until 2025). I hope you're just as excited to return to Jeremy as I was! --- This fic was minimally edited.

Christmas didn’t feel like Christmas anywhere but home, Katie thought as she sat in bumper to bumper traffic, her hands wringing at the steering wheel. A symphony of honks sung their carols around her, but they went unheard as she daydreamed of home. 

The stockings hung in their usual spots, their names stitched neatly in gold thread—hers and Parker’s. She could almost hear his small voice from when he was just a boy, asking if Santa would really know to leave presents if they didn’t have a chimney.

Every corner of her home was dusted with memories—Parker’s laugh echoing down the halls, the smell of cookies burning when she got distracted by Dottie and the kids in the living room, the way he used to shake the snow off his boots, leaving puddles by the door. 

But this year, those memories were left behind, but not forgotten as Parker wasn't going to be able to come home for Christmas. The Bruins had a game the night before Christmas Eve, and they’d hit the road again just four days later. Katie had been forced to choose between the traditions she treasured and something new. As Stubborn as she was, there was never really a choice. She would always choose Parker. 

The drive to the grocery store and back took nearly two hours—a journey that gave Katie plenty of time to dwell on Parker’s idea of a "family holiday." When he’d told her he’d rented a house big enough for everyone, she hadn’t asked many questions. She trusted her son. But that trust began to waver at 5 a.m. on the morning of her flight when Dottie showed up at her door with her husband and her kids all left waiting in their Escalade. 

“Surprise!” Dottie had chirped, her tone almost too cheery to handle before a cup of coffee. But Katie smiled all the same. Having her best friend with her for the holidays, especially when she would have to deal with her ex, was a gift all in itself. 

And the surprises didn’t end there. 

For the entirety of the flight, Katie couldn’t fathom how Parker imagined cramming all eight of them into an Airbnb. But when the car pulled up to the property, Katie’s jaw dropped. This wasn’t some tiny apartment or cramped rental house. It was a sprawling villa, complete with a wide wraparound porch, floor to ceiling windows  and twinkling lights that sparkled in the crisp winter air.

The beauty of the home still left Katie in awe as she pulled up in front of it for the second time. The driveway curved through a yard blanket edge by freshly fallen snow. Snow that crackled beneath the slow roll of the car's tires until they  eased into a stop in front of the garage door. Katie leaned her back against the headrest, admiring how Christmas lights reflected off the snow capped roof. Smiling proudly at what Parker was able to accomplish, she turned slightly to look over at Dottie who sat in the passenger seat. 

Her phone was out, her fingers tapping feverishly against her phone as she tried to finish the work assignment she had promised not to touch when the plane landed in Boston. Katie shook her head slowly, her smile growing wider. There were two things Dottie would be doing from the grave, her final work assignment and polishing off an expensive bottle of chardonnay. Because while she worked hard, Dottie played harder. 

“You done?” Katie raised a brow up at her best friend, “because I'm not letting you touch it again once we get inside.”

Dottie was quiet for a moment, a small sigh rocking her shoulders before she let her eyes leave the bright glow of the phone screen. 

“Alright, alright, I'm done enough,” Dottie assured, her thumbs hovering over the screen as if she wanted to write just one word more. 

“Done enough?” Katie half laughed, “Last time I heard that I found you hiding in the bathroom at the twins hockey game.” 

Dottie laughed, raising her hands up in mock surrender, “I promise you won't find me hiding this time. Work-free holiday starts as soon as we pop the wine.”

“Then I guess we should get inside and open up a bottle,” Katie smiled and watched as Dottie tucked her phone away in her purse to free up her hands. They had a lot to bring in, and they were both firm believers in taking all the groceries in one trip. 

Fresh snow kissed Katie’s bare ankles as she stepped out of the car, the drifts spilling over her boots with every hurried step toward the front door. Dottie followed close behind, both of them cradling paper bags threatening to topple with each stride. A shiver climbed Katie’s spine as she stomped up the steps, rushing to the unlocked door she couldn’t open with her full hands.

Her boot met the door in three swift kicks, and as it swung open, a gust of warmth greeted her cold, rosy cheeks. 

“Thank you,” she spoke in a sing-songy tone as she was met by Parker's smile that quickly faltered. 

“Mom, you gotta stop doing this. You could have gotten me to help carry this in,” he pleaded with her, a single arm scooping on the bags from her hold. She hated it when he looked at her like that. Like she was frail. Incapable. Old. 

“I'm forty-one Parker, not a hundred. I can still carry in the groceries. Besides, Dottie helped,” Katie spoke pointedly as she stepped out of her shoes and led the way into the large kitchen that was like it was out of a dream. From the dark green walls and ebony cabinetry to the stacked ovens complete with French doors, Katie was going to be the last to complain about having to cook nearly twelve meals for eight people over the three days they would be spending in the home. 

“We've got more than enough hands here, Mom,” Parker continued as he placed the bag down on the marble countertops. “Between me and-” 

His words were broken by the slamming of the front door. Katie's neck quickly snapped in the direction of the sound. They hadn't abandoned Dottie. She stood beside her, her arm already lost in the depths of the paper bag as she blindly searched for one of their bottles of wine. Her brows furrowed as she leaned over the counter, craning her neck to see who's heavy steps clunked over the hardwood floors. 

Her face fell into a frown when her ex-husband, Ronnie, came into view, his winter boots and jacket still on and his arms carrying an array of luggage. Not once, during their twenty years of marriage, had he been so chivalrous as to carry her bags or help her with her groceries. Katie’s face fell into a sneer, there was no hiding it. 

“Dad! You made it,” Parker smiled as he stepped away from the counter to meet his dad who struggled with the bags. 

Monica strutted in behind them, her smile wide as she caught up with Ronnie. Her arms opened as she stepped towards Parker, taking her into an embrace he didn’t seem eager to return. Katie caught the tightness in Parker’s jaw, as he offered a half-hearted pat on her back. She knew he was trying–for Ronnie’s sake, if nothing else–but it was clear Monica hadn’t won him over. 

“By what miracle were they not going to make it?” Katie mumbled under her breath to Dottie who turned and hid her smile in the fridge as she started to put the groceries away. 

“Snow storm?” Dottie hummed. 

“Plane crash,” Katie bit out, sending Dottie into a laughter she could not contain. 

“So we’re not playing nice this weekend?” Dottie arched a brow, her voice laced with curiosity.

Katie smirked, her tone dry. “To their faces, sure.”

Dottie chuckled, shaking her head. “You know that makes you sound terrible, right?”

“There’s only so much fake smiling I can manage before I break something,” Katie said with a shrug.

With her back turned to the doorway, Katie worked with Dottie to fill the empty cupboards and the fridge with the groceries they bought from the store. Soon, the kitchen looked like someone called it home, and it was only the turkey left to put away. Cradling it in her arms, Katie opened the fridge, only to find another turkey sitting on the top shelf. 

“We didn’t buy two turkeys did we?” Katie asked, her brows falling in confusion. 

“No, we just got the big one,” Dottie confirmed, her one hand wrapped around the neck of a wine bottle as she searched for a bottle opener. 

“Then what’s this?” Katie stepped to the side and did her best to gesture the turkey with her full hands.

Dottie shrugged, and Katie let out a sigh. Was it horrible that they had two turkeys? No, but it was making Katie question her sanity because it wasn’t in there when they left for the store. 

“Parker? Where’d you get this other turkey?” She called out, but her son didn’t hear her. He no longer stood in the doorway with his father and Monica. He was lost somewhere in the house – probably showing them to their room - or maybe, he was the source of the laughter she could hear in the living room. 

Placing the turkey down in the fridge next to the other, Katie closed up the fridge and followed the shill laughter of Dottie’s twins, and the thunder of footsteps against the hardwood floor. She walked through the entryway, her socks getting wet from the trail of her husband’s footprints. If she was still his wife, she would have nagged him to clean up the mess he had created, but she promised herself that she wouldn’t let his bad habits get to her over the holidays. Instead she walked right through them, leaving her own soggy footprints behind as she walked to the living room. 

“Whoa,” her lips fell open in awe at the sight of the large Christmas tree that stood in the corner of the room, just to the right of the fireplace that blazed with the dance of fire. That hadn’t been there before they left either. Its branches were still free of ornaments, but the glimmer of white lights set it aglow.

“When did Parker have time for all of this?” Dottie gasped out from behind her, pushing past to stand with Brandon and Brayden who knelt on the floor, opening up the boxes of brand new ornaments. 

“He didn’t,” Megan said, her voice drifting lazily from where she was curled up in an armchair by the fire. “Jeremy did.”

Katie’s attention snapped to the teenager, whose wistful gaze was fixed on the snow falling softly outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. The faint, dreamy sigh that followed spoke volumes. Katie didn’t need to ask—she recognized that tone all too well. But Katie couldn’t give herself time to dwell on it, her body had already gone still at the realization of what Megan had said. 

Suddenly she was hot, sweating, with nerves as her stomach jumped up into her throat. She had to have heard her wrong. Megan hasn’t said Jeremy. She couldn’t have. Katie refused to believe it, it must have been her mind playing tricks on her. 

“Where’s,” Katie's mouth was dry, and she paused, forced to swallow, “Megan, where’s Parker?”

“Upstairs with Uncle Ronnie,” Megan waved off, her eyes falling back to her book. 

Katie moved quickly, taking the stairs two at a time despite her arms feeling heavy and her legs unsteady. The laughter from the living room faded as her pulse roared in her ears. When she reached the landing, she blindly collided with a solid figure. 

Two strong hands caught her by the arms, steadying her before she could stumble back. Katie held her breath as she shut her eyes, praying to whoever would listen, that she had run into Parker, or for the first time in years, she wished that she had collided with her husband. But she knew it wasn’t either of them. 

She didn’t need to look to know who it was holding her so carefully in place. She’d feel this touch before– gentle but firm, it was a comforting touch she’d never forgotten. On so many nights it had crept into her dreams, leaving her craving more but Katie had told herself she could never feel again.

“Mom!” Parker’s voice broke through her thoughts, his concern heavy as he came up behind the figure that still held her. “Are you okay?”

Katie swallowed hard, her mouth dry as she let herself look up. Jeremy towered over her with a soft smile, and just past him was her son. 

“I’m fine,” she managed to say, her voice softer than she’d expected. 

Jeremy’s hands lingered for just a moment longer before they fell away. She felt the absence of them instantly, the cool air of the house passing over her skin in the absence of his warmth.  

“I just… Megan mentioned we had a guest?” Katie’s voice wavered, but she steadied it with a quick breath. 

“Oh, yeah,” Parker said, his grin sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry mom. Sway’s staying with us for Christmas. I thought it would be okay.”

Katie blinked, her stomach tightening. Of course it wasn’t okay, but on the surface, she had to pretend that it was. Because if it wasn’t, Parker would ask why and Katie would never be able to answer him…

Jeremy spoke, his tone warm, “I brought an extra turkey, and set up the tree, anything else you need, Ms. Stacey, just let me know. It’s the least I could do.”

Katie’s legs pressed firm together as his words, suddenly feeling weak right through to her very core. To anyone else, it would have sounded like Jeremy was being kind, but Katie knew that anything truly meant anything.

“Thank you, Jeremy. That’s very thoughtful. If you’ll excuse me, I should start dinner.”

She descended slowly, her mind spinning. Each step felt heavier than the last, her composure threatening to slip as she reached the bottom.

Dottie was waiting for her at the bottom of the steps. Her wide eyes met Katie’s as the twins chattered excitedly about the tree. No words passed between them, they didn’t need to, not when Katie’s eyes said it all. 

Yes, this was Jeremy. The Jeremy she had slept with for just a year before. Back when he had been nothing more than a stranger to her– and before she discovered he was the goaltender for his son’s hockey team. 

Dottie gave her a knowing look as she directed her twins towards the living room. “Go help Parker with the tree. Mom’s going to help Aunt Katie,” she said, falling into stride behind Katie. 

They said nothing, the kitchen quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator and distant laughter from the next room. Among them, she could hear Jeremy’s laugh, a sound Katie had once thought she would never hear again. 

The bottle of wine thudded against the countertop as Dottie uncorked it with practiced ease. She didn’t ask questions, she didn’t push, just poured two glasses and slid one into Katie’s waiting hand. 

Katie wrapped her fingers around the glass, staring down at the swirling red liquid as if it could solve all her problems. Taking a long steady sip, Katie drowned her senses in the flavor of the sweet red wine and tried to  ignore just how complicated her Christmas had become.

The warm glow of the chandelier above the dinner table bathed Katie in soft light as laughter and clatter of silverware filled the room. Brayden and Brandon, full of boundless energy, captivated everyone’s attention, and Katie couldn’t help but smile as she watched them. Christmas Eve was everything she had hoped for—a cozy, festive evening with her family, even if her definition of family included her ex-husband, his new wife, and her son’s teammate, Jeremy.

Despite the cheerful atmosphere that had fallen around the table, Katie couldn’t ignore the knot that tightened in her stomach. Jeremy’s presence, as he sat directly across from her, was both thrilling and unsettling. When he had joined them, he’d offered a soft smile, his voice low and warm as he spoke. “Everything looks great” he had said, and his gaze lingered just long enough to make her breath catch, before reaching for a dinner roll. Katie had nodded, a tight smile tugging at her lips, the brief exchange sending a ripple of warmth through her that she quickly tried to ignore. And she was thankful for his quiet demeanor. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t seem to push for conversation, and she appreciated that more than she expected. 

Katie kept her attention on her plate, chewing slowly and forcing herself to smile when someone looked her way. Though, it was hard to ignore the site across the table. Megan had seated herself next to Jeremy, and was leaning in close to him as she spoke in a soft whisper. Whatever she had said, Katie couldn’t quite hear, and Jeremy responded with a polite but brief nod before returning his attention back to his plate. The poor girl was doing her best to get Jeremy’s attention, but it was already devoted to Katie, though she was trying to ignore that fact. She avoided looking directly at Jeremy, but when she did, his gaze was always there, steady, like he was waiting for her to look back. And when they did meet, they met briefly, Katie’s pulse hastening as she found herself glancing away quickly, as if caught off guard by his quiet intensity. 

Instead of letting her eyes linger on Jeremy, she turned her gaze to Ronnie, seated at the head of the table, and Monica, who sat at his side, basking in the center of attention. 

Monica’s voice rose about the rest, her stories even louder than the laughter of the twins as they were entertained by Jeremy. "Ronnie’s taking me to the Maldives after the holidays," she said, pushing her blonde hair with a casual toss. As she did, the light caught Monica’s oversized diamond ring, its glimmer flashing in Katie’s eyes.

Katie’s gaze flickered to her own left hand, tracing the memory of the simpler rings Ronnie had given her– the ones that were never as big, or never as extravagant as Monica’s. They hadn’t had the money for such luxuries, or for the kinds of trips Monica seemed to collect like trophies. Watching Ronnie’s lavish midlife crisis, and his new wife with all the things they never had, made Katie’s shoulders slouch forward. Choking back a sigh, she reached for the bottle of wine at the center of the table.

The motion drew Monica’s sharp eye, like an eagle flying high above her prey. Her voice cut through the hum of conversation. "We were so sad when you couldn’t come to the wedding, Katie," she said, her tone pitched just loud enough for everyone to hear. "It was such a beautiful ceremony. You would’ve loved it."

Katie’s stomach churned, but she forced a smile, her eyes darting briefly to Ronnie, hoping for some sign that he’d put a stop to it. "I’m sure it was lovely—" she began, but Monica didn’t let her finish.

With a flourish, Monica extended her arm across the table, wiggling her fingers. "Look how gorgeous this ring is," she said, her smile gleaming, "And this is just my travel ring."

Katies brows knit together as her jaw slacked. "Travel ring?" Her words faltered, her mind scrambling for a response. She looked from Monica’s beaming face, to Dottie–but there was also something pulling her attention toward Jeremy—his eyes on her again, his lips slightly parted as if he had something to say but was waiting for her to speak first.

Her heart stuttered, and for a moment, the noise around her faded, leaving only the sensation of his gaze. Katie’s gaze lingered on him for a moment, before she pulled them away and looked to her ex husband with a pleading stare, silently begging him to get Monica to stop. 

"Oh yes, isn’t it wonderful?" Monica beamed. "Ronnie is so thoughtful. But don’t worry, Katie. One day, someone will love you as much as he loves me."

The sudden crash of silverware on a plate made Katie flinch, and she turned to see Parker, his dinner abandoned, and his hand dropped to his side in two fists. He leaned forward, his voice thick with disgust. “You know who you’re fucking talking to right?” 

Katie’s heart swelled with pride, but she quickly tamped it down though she wanted nothing more than to smile. She was so proud of him for so many things, but nothing made him prouder than this. She wanted to applaud him, but she couldn’t. Not now, not at Christmas when she needed everyone to get along. She shot him a soft look, her words a low but firm plea for calm, “Parker, language.”

Parker didn’t back down. “Mom seriously? She can’t say that kind of shit to you.”

He was right. Monica shouldn’t be saying anything like that. Not to her. No ever. The tensions between them were the highest they had been since they met, and it was clear that no amount of effort on Monica’s part would change that dynamic with Parker, not after everything. 

“Mom,” Parker spoke insistently, waiting for his mother to say anything to defend herself. 

Katie sighed and topped off her glass of wine, her gaze flickered briefly to her son. “She’s right Parker,” she said quietly. “She and your father are very much in love. It should be celebrated. Not all are so lucky to find love so late in their lives… or so early.” She punctuated the words with a long sip of wine, and from the other end of the table, Dottie’s soft laugh echoed through the tension. 

As the laughter faded, so did the conversation and the table fell into silence. The clink of forks and knives returned, and any words said were exchanged in whispers. Katie’s chest tightened as she took another sip of her wine, her fingers gripping the glass a little too tightly.  The sting of Monica’s words still lingered below the surface. Katie wasn’t sure what she had expected when she agreed to sitting down with everyone for dinner but it certainly wasn’t this– a cocktail of bitterness and forced civility. 

Her gaze wandered the table: Parker sat stiffly beside her, his fork clenched in his fist as he stabbed at his food. Ronnie and Monica whispered conspiratorially, their heads close together, while Dottie and Ben coaxed their kids to eat a few more bites.

Katie’s eyes stopped on Megan, leaning toward Jeremy with a bright smile. “If that happened to me, I think I’d die of embarrassment,” she said, her voice carrying just enough for Katie to catch it.

Jeremy didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at Megan. His gaze was elsewhere, steady and unflinching—on Katie. Not with pity or judgment, but quiet understanding. He shifted slightly, closing himself off from Megan’s proximity and angling toward Katie instead. The subtle movement felt deliberate, almost protective.

Katie’s breath caught, and she quickly looked away, her eyes falling to her empty wine glass. She wasn’t going to get through the night sober.

Blindly reaching for the bottle, her trembling fingers brushed against something warm. She froze, realizing it was Jeremy’s hand, just as he reached for the same bottle. His touch was barely there–just the faintest of feelings as they had met by accident. 

Katie watched as his thick fingers coiled around the neck of the bottle and poured himself more wine. But his touch had lingered just long enough that Katie could still feel it, as the legs of his chair squealed against the floor. Jeremy stood slowly, his expression neutral, as he reached out across the table and filled her glass with wine. 

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Jeremy didn’t reply, just settled back in his chair with a quiet confidence that made her chest feel less tight. But then, as he sat, she felt the faintest pressure against her ankle. His foot, deliberate and slow, traced a line up her calf before retreating. 

Katie’s breath hitched, her grip on her wine glass beginning to falter as it suddenly felt heavy in her hand. It dropped to the table before she could try to catch it, the sound of the shatter had Katie snapping back to reality. 

“I’m sorry,” Katie gasped, scrambling to cover the spill with her napkin as if it would stop it from bleeding into the table cloth. 

“Mom, are you okay?” Parker asked quickly, his hand joining the mess of napkins at the center of the table. 

Katie forced a smile, her voice shaking, “Yes, just clumsy tonight.”

Dottie chimed in, her tone calm and reassuring. “It’s the stress,” Dottie was quick to say, “I keep telling you– what do I keep telling you?”

Katie nodded, grateful for the lifeline Dottie had thrown her. “It’s the stress,” she echoed, her gaze briefly meeting Jeremy’s before it dropped down to the table. 

From beside her, Parker leaned across the table, toward Jeremy, his voice carrying just enough for Katie to hear. “Mom and Dottie are weird like that—you’ll get used to it.”

It was almost enough to draw a genuine smile from her, almost. She brushed her hair back, her fingers lingering against her temples as if she could rub away the growing headache. “I think I’ll turn in early,” she murmured, her voice fragile but resolute.

“You should,” Parker said, his tone firm in the way only a son looking out for his mother could be. “There’s a hot tub out back—just go relax. We’ll take care of everything here.”

Katie hesitated, her instinct to refuse warring with the exhaustion pulling at her shoulders. She reached out, smoothing Parker’s hair with a soft touch. “Thank you, sweetheart,” she said, her voice thick with emotion she didn’t dare let show.

As she pushed back her chair and rose, she felt Jeremy’s eyes on her again—steady, watchful. She avoided meeting his gaze, but as she turned to leave, her steps faltering slightly, his quiet presence lingered behind her like an unspoken promise.

In the hall, the muffled sounds of the table faded, replaced by the echo of her own breathing. Katie pressed her palm flat against the cool wall, closing her eyes for a moment. Maybe the hot tub wasn’t a bad idea after all. She just needed to find a way to let the tension in her chest dissolve, even if it was only temporary.

And as she walked toward the back door, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Jeremy would somehow end up being part of that reprieve, whether she wanted him to be or not.

The crisp winter air nipped at Katie’s cheeks as she stepped onto the back deck, her breath curling in soft, misty clouds in front of her. She pulled her robe tighter around her body, the crunch of snow underfoot lost on her ears as she heard the sound of bubbling water ahead.

The hot tub was a small oasis in the frigid night, steam rising in soft tendrils against the dark sky. Katie hesitated at the edge, her eyes scanning the yard for any sign of life, but it was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. She exhaled slowly, peeling off the layers she’d brought with her until she was left in her swimsuit.

The water welcomed her like an old friend, the heat seeping into her muscles as she sank into its depths with a sigh. For the first time that evening, the tension in her shoulders began to melt away, replaced by a soothing warmth that wrapped around her like a blanket.

She settled into the corner, facing the sliding glass doors that led back into the house. The glow from inside cast a soft light across the deck, but it felt distant, as though she had managed to leave all the chaos and noise behind.

The sound of the water bubbling and the gentle rustle of wind through the trees dulled her senses. She leaned her head back, the steam curling around her face, and closed her eyes. For just a moment, she let herself drift, the night wrapping her in its stillness.

Katie let the calm envelop her, wrapping around her like a cocoon. For the first time since her plane had lifted off that morning, she felt at peace. She savored it, knowing it was fleeting—knowing it would dissolve the moment she slid the door open and stepped back into the noise of children’s laughter, Monica’s relentless self-importance, and the inevitable chaos of Christmas.

"You don’t have to go back inside yet," she murmured, her voice barely audible over the steady hum of the water. She felt the tension creeping back into her shoulders at the mere thought of rejoining the fray, but she pushed it down, letting the warmth of the water soothe her nerves.

Just as she began to reclaim the fleeting relief, the sharp sound of the sliding door broke the stillness. Her heart sank. With a sigh, she cracked her eyes open, fully expecting to see Dottie or Parker checking on her. But the figure stepping into the glow of the deck lights wasn’t who she expected.

It was Jeremy.

Her body tensed, her calm shattered in an instant. She shot upright, the sudden motion sending ripples across the surface of the water, the heat lapping against her skin. He walked toward her, his long strides careful, purposeful. Each step followed the faint path he had left in the snow, his breath visible in the cold air.

Katie’s pulse quickened. A part of her wanted to sink below the surface, to disappear into the steam and pretend he hadn’t found her sanctuary. But she couldn’t move—his presence rooted her in place.

He stopped just short of the tub, crouching in the snow until he was at her eye level. For a moment, he said nothing, just held her gaze with an intensity that made her breath hitch. Then, without a word, he extended his hand, offering her a glass of wine.

“I don’t think I should have another,” Katie told him, sinking deeper into the water, until it was only her head that bobbed above the surface. 

Jeremy smirked, holding the glass just out of her reach. “Considering your last one ended up all over the table, I don’t think this one will hurt.” 

Her arm emerged cautiously from the water, ripping the surface as she reached for the glass. Their fingers brushed, and this time, neither of them pulled away. They both held the glass, a sudden grounding force that had Katie easing herself out of the water. Her swimsuit clung to her skim, emphasizing the soft curves of her body. For a moment, and his warm eyes dragged over her body,  Jeremy looked as though he might climb in, fully dressed. 

But instead, he leaned in closer, his voice low and intimate, meant for her ears alone. “You left the dinner table because of me, didn’t you?”

Katie’s face flushed red hot. 

“There were many reasons I didn’t want to be seated at that table,” she said, her voice steady despite the way his gaze held her captive. For the first time all evening, she didn’t look away. Instead she allowed herself a moment to take him in–the quiet intensity of his eyes, the subtle curve of his lips, and the he seemed entirely at ease yet so focused on her.

“You weren’t one of them” she continued, her tone softening. 

Jeremy’s grin deepened, soft but unmistakably wicked. "Good, because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you walked in tonight."

Her pulse quickened, the admission sending a ripple through her resolve. But she managed to hold her ground, her voice quieter now. "We can’t… do this."

Jeremy’s grin turned playful, though his eyes remained serious. “Dottie and Parker were busy in the kitchen-”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Jeremy,” Katie said, her tone growing firmer. 

“I know,” he admitted, exhaling as he let the glass fall into her hold alone. Then, he sat himself down on the hard plastic of the hot tub. His hand dipped down into the water, swirling it idly. “Anything else I can do to help you relax?”

Katie hesitated, gripping the rim of the tub as if it would keep her from doing anything stupid. “We can’t,” she repeated. 

“Why not? You didn’t seem to have any problem with us before.”

Her breath hitched. “I didn’t know who you were before.”

Jeremy’s brow lifted, his smirk returning. “Oh, so you only sleep with strangers, that’s it? Kinky.”

“No, no that’s not-” Katie stammered, her words tangling her tongue as she tried to protest. 

“Is it that you think I’m too young for you?” Jeremy pressed, his teasing tone refusing to let up. 

Katie groaned, the sound low and frustrated. His words hit a nerve. Her chest tightened at the thought—how similar their relationship was to the one Ronnie had with Monica. She hated that she could compare herself  to the man who had once made her feel small and uncertain of herself.

“I knew you were younger,” she shot back. 

“Then I don’t see the-”

Her voice dropped, heavy with finality. “I don’t sleep with my son’s friends.”

“That’s a shame,” Jeremy spoke, his tone low and edged with humor, “you would’ve been the perfect gift for me to unwrap for the first night of Hannukah.” Slowly, Jeremy pushed himself to his feet, and brushed the snow from his pants as he prepared to leave. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me, Katie.”

With that, Jeremy turned, retracing his footprints back into the house. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Katie alone once more. She stared down at the wine glass in her hand, watching it swirl as she twisted it between her fingers. The dark liquid swirled hypnotically, tempting her into taking a sip, to dull the tensions that crept back into her shoulders. But she knew better. Wine had a way of loosening her resolve, and the last thing she needed was to make the same mistake twice. 

Katie tipped the glass, slowly pouring it into the snow. The deep red stained the pristine white, fading to pink as the liquid seeped in. She smiled softly at the colors, a fleeting moment of calm, until the door creaked open again, followed by an exaggerated gasp.

“I can’t believe you just wasted perfectly good wine,” Dottie explained, her tone somewhere between mock horror and genuine disapproval.

Katie chucked, shaking her head without looking back., “How long have you been watching from the window?”

“The whole time,” Dottie smiled devilishly, “Thought you and lover boy were about to give me a show.”

Katie groaned, sinking further into the warmth of the hot tub. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m the best,” Dottie corrected, perching on the edge of the tub like a cat ready to pounce. “So? What did he say?”

“Nothing appropriate,” Katie groaned, leaning back in the comforting warmth of the hot tub. 

“I like him!” Dottie announced with a grin. 

“Of course you do,” Katie deadpanned.

“So you’re going to bang, right?”

“Dottie!”

“What?” Dottie said innocently, though her grin only grew. “He’s hot, he’s into you, and you’re clearly into him. Win-win.”

“He’s Parker’s friend,” Katie reminded her, her face falling into a semblance of a frown. “And practically his age. If Parker ever found out… he’d never talk to me again. It can’t  happen, not here, not now. Especially not here, not at Christmas.”

Dottie’s teasing expression softened. “I get it. I  do,” she said, her tone gentler. “Parker’s your whole world. He’s been it since the moment he was born. Your number one priority, and he’s done all of this for us this year because of what you’ve sacrificed to get him here–a loveless marriage, a career that paid well but wasn’t your dream job. You’ve sacrificed everything for that boy. Just once, can’t you put yourself first? For me? Please.” Dottie punctuated her words with a soft pout. 

Katie sighed, reaching for her robe as she climbed out of the hot tub. The icy air hit her like a slap, sending a shiver down her spine. “It’s not that simple, Dot,” Katie said, pulling her robe tightly around her. “This isn’t like buying a purse at TJ Maxx as a treat or not going to my ex-husband’s wedding.”

“No,” Dottie agreed, “It’s so much better. He’s a good guy, Katie”

“I know he is.”

“And a good lay,” Dottie spoke pointedly, as if Katie needed to be reminded. 

Katie froze, her cheeks heating despite the cold. The memory of Boston was etched in her mind–the way Jeremy’s hand felt on her skin, the heat of his lips on hers. It had been intoxicated, a high she hadn’t been able to replicate since. 

“He was,” Katie admitted quietly. 

“And the opportunity may never come again. So why waste it?” Dottie challenged one last time, before she was gone, disappearing into the house. 

Katie stood there for a moment, staring after her friend. By the time Katie reached the door, her mind was racing. She knew Parker was reason enough to say no, but deep down, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she could keep saying no– to Jeremy, and to herself. 

Katie stood in front of the mirror in her room, twisting a damp strand of hair around her finger. The heat from the hot tub had left her skin pink and glowing, a small consolation after the tension-filled evening. She sighed, pulling on the soft flannel pajamas she’d bought for everyone weeks ago—a coordinated tradition she’d insisted on, despite Parker’s protests about dragging family traditions across the country for Christmas.

Everyone except Jeremy.

She tugged at the sleeves of her red-and-green plaid top, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles as her mind lingered on him. If she’d known he’d be here, she might’ve sent him a pair too. Or maybe not. Matching pajamas felt too… intimate.

Katie shook her head, banishing the thought as she grabbed the pile of neatly wrapped presents from the top of the dresser. She’d even bought one for Monica, a gesture that left a sour taste in her mouth. The wretched woman didn’t deserve a gift—not when Jeremy, so sweet and thoughtful, would go without. Her frown deepened as she glanced at each tag one last time before heading upstairs.

The Christmas tree’s glow bathed the living room in soft, warm light. The house had grown quiet, the others retreating to their rooms as the night stretched on. Katie knelt by the tree, arranging her presents carefully beneath the branches. Her fingers lingered on a ribbon as she gazed at the growing pile of gifts.

This was supposed to be a time for joy, for family, for simple traditions. But tonight felt different—complicated, like an invisible thread pulling her toward something she wasn’t sure she wanted.

With a sigh, she padded downstairs to her room, her bare feet quiet against the cold floor. She wasn’t ready for bed, not yet. Not when there were a few stolen moments left for herself.

Grabbing her book from her bag, Katie settled into the basement’s common area. Beyond the bathroom door, she heard the shower running, but she paid it no mind. The soft pages of her book soon drew her in, offering an escape from the thoughts she wasn’t ready to face.

Katie wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there—minutes or hours, time blurred by the quiet escape of her book. She didn’t look up until light spilled into the room, stretching across the floor and casting her shadow. 

“Parker, is that you?” she called softly, tilting her head to catch a glimpse of the figure beyond the bathroom door.

Katie’s gaze drifted upward, and at first, all she saw was the stretch of a shadow across the floor, long and shifting as if testing its reach. Her breath caught as the figure emerged from the light—a broad silhouette that sent a prickle of heat to her cheeks before her mind even registered who it was.

Jeremy stepped into view, a towel slung low around his hips, his hair damp and dripping. The droplets of water rolled down Jeremy’s chest, catching the light in a way that made her stomach twist. He didn’t seem to notice her staring—or maybe he did, and he was just taking his time, leaning casually against the doorframe as if oblivious to the effect he was having on her. Katie’s breath hitched, her earlier curiosity replaced by a sudden wish she’d stayed silent.

At first, neither of them moved. The hum of the bathroom light buzzed faintly, a subtle intrusion into the heavy stillness between them. Katie swallowed hard, the weight of his gaze pressing down on her as if daring her to speak first. Her mouth opened, words poised on her tongue, but nothing came out. Her brain screamed at her to look away, to act normal, but her eyes betrayed her, tracing the path of a water droplet as it slid down his collarbone and disappeared beneath the edge of the towel.

“Didn’t realize anyone was still up,” Jeremy said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his wet hair. “Did I wake you?”

“No,” Katie replied, holding up her book. “Needed a distraction to wind down.”

“A distraction from what?” he asked, stepping closer, one hand securing the towel at his waist.

“Everything,” she admitted, closing the book and setting it aside.

“Even me?” Jeremy’s voice was softer now, a faint edge of something unreadable in his tone.

“Especially you,” She didn’t mean for it to sound like a confession, but the way his brow lifted told her he’d heard it that way.

Rising from her chair, Katie moved toward him, her pulse quickening as the space between them disappeared. “I feel bad. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve…”

“Would’ve what?”

“Gotten you a gift to unwrap,” she said, her words catching on a breath. For a moment, she hesitated, the tension between them thick and unspoken. “But I guess…” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile. “I’ll have to do.”

“Come here,” Jeremy murmured, his voice barely audible, and before she could decide whether to step back or lean in, his hand moved—leaving the towel at his hips precariously loose.

Her stomach fluttered as his fingers found her waist, warm and firm through the thin flannel of her pajamas. The fabric bunched beneath his touch, the sensation sending a shiver skimming down her spine.

Jeremy lifted her effortlessly, the movement fluid and sure, his strength impossible to ignore as her pulse quickened. Katie’s breath caught, her hands instinctively finding his shoulders, while her legs wound around his hips. Her fingers brushed against his damp skin, warm and slick from his shower, and the contact sent a shiver coursing through her.

She barely had time to process the rush of feeling his body against hers, before she leaned in, her lips seeking his.

The first brush of their mouths sent a jolt through her, soft and electric. Her hand cupped his face, her fingers slipping into his damp hair as she deepened the kiss. A soft sound escaped her, unbidden and raw, as her body seemed to melt against him, surrendering to the moment.

Jeremy’s grip shifted, one hand leaving her waist to slide down and settle firmly against the back of her thigh. The possessiveness of his touch sent heat spiraling through her, igniting a spark that made her dizzy. Without breaking the kiss, he carried her with purposeful strides into the bedroom that had been assigned to him for the holidays.

A single arm reached out blindly as she sought out the door. Her knuckles hit the door frame first, sending a stinging pain through her hand as it found the door and shoved it back with the flick of her wrist. It was her body that secured it shut, Jeremy pressing her back firmly up against it, trapping her frame between the door and the strength of his body. 

“Lock it,” she panted against his lips, “lock it.”

Katie wanted to be sure that if she was going to fall into bed with Jeremey again, she wasn’t going to make the mistake of getting caught. 

A single hand strayed away from her for but a moment, the sound of the lock engaging was like the strike of a match that ignited the smoldering ashes inside her into a burning rage. Inside his room,  nothing beyond the door mattered. It was just her and Jeremy. 

With her body pressed up against the door, and the door locked, Jeremy’s hands traced the curves of her body. They dipped down as they traced her waist, and out over the swell of her hips before gripping at the softness of her thighs as he drew her away from the door with an effortlessness that left Katie gasping. 

It never ceased to amaze her how Jeremy carried her like she weighed nothing at all. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter, not even when his towel slipped or his steps tangled in the fabric. He only chuckled softly, against her skin, his hot breath washing over her cheek warm and reassuring as his lips teased her with the ghost of a kiss. 

Katie’s fingers brushed against his damp skin, feeling the strength beneath, the steadiness in how he held her. He didn’t complain—didn’t call her too heavy, or too demanding. Those words, the ones Ronnie had thrown at her like weapons, dissolved into nothingness in Jeremy’s arms.

Instead, Jeremy’s grip on her was firm but gentle, his touch reverent, as though he cherished the weight of her against him – he welcomed it even, as he sat down on the bed and welcomed her into his lap. He didn’t make her feel like a burden. He made her feel wanted.

Her chest tightened–just as her legs did around his thighs–and she bit her lip, a wave of emotion catching her off guard. He made her feel wanted. The feeling of needing him–and being needed– was all consuming, so unexpected, Katie had to fight back tears as her eyes danced over the soft expression on Jeremy’s face. 

She couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes flickered down to meet hers, a quiet smile playing at the corners of his mouth. There was no blame, no irritation, only quiet determination and an unmistakable softness that made her feel like the most precious thing in the world– and she would be for as long as she let herself be in his arms. 

Her touch was trembling as it left his shoulders, the tips of her fingers traced up the back of his neck and into the wet curls that hung there. Slowly, her grip tightened, twisting the soft strands between her fingers. Jeremy’s head eased back into her pull, and his mouth fell open in a ghost of a slack jawed moan. 

The sight of him left Katie breathless, her entire body tensing at a single fact; she was the one doing this to him. 

With her heart pounding so hard Katie thought her ribcage might rattle, her hips began to roll. The soft cotton fabric of her pajama bottoms was the only thing keeping her dragging her aching core over the expanse of his thick thighs. Her body quivered, her eyes fluttering shut, at the feeling of his hands on her hips. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, pulling her body in close, further up his lap so she could feel the stiffness of his cock between her legs. 

Jeremy whispered against her cheek, his hot breath washing over her with every word. “I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

Katie wanted to groan as angled her hips over him, her clothed core dragging up his length as a distraction from her racing mind that had wanted nothing but to ignore the very thought of his body against hers. Even as she was so close to having him, the last thing Katie wanted to do was think. So, she did the only thing she knew would cloud her mind in the best ways. She acted. 

With her fingers still tangled in the curls of his hair, Katie’s lips swallowed every word that threatened to spill from his mouth with a kiss. The kiss was deep and hungry.  Katie could taste the sweetness of his toothpaste on his tongue as her own parted his lips and stroked only his teeth. 

Jeremy’s body vibrated with the vibrato of his satisfied hum, his kiss meeting the eagerness of her own before it left her lips and left a heated trail across the angles of her jaw and down. His tongue stroked along her neck slowly, priming the delicate skin there for the careful graze of his teeth. 

“Don’t,” Katie gasped out, her grasp on his hair tightening. As much as she liked it, the risk in letting her mark up the curves of neck was too great. If it was another time, another place, when her family wasn’t going to greet her in the morning, maybe Katie would have let him. 

“Alright, alright,” Jeremy assured with soft understanding against her neck before he peppered soft kisses where her neck met her shoulder, “I’ll be good. No teeth,” he continued as he hands coasted over her hips and found the bottom of her shirt, “but this, this comes off now.”

His hand then dropped to the top of her thigh, stroking over the thick expanse slowly. “And so do these.”

Licking her lips, Katie raised her arms up slowly. For a moment, she saw only darkness as her shirt was pulled up and over her face. It was lost somewhere in the room. The floor, the foot of the bed—she didn’t know where it ended up. All she knew was that as quickly as her shirt came off, she was flipped onto her back.

A gasp escaped her, one that quickly became a soft moan as the heat of Jeremey’s mouth traveled over the curves of her body. His kiss started as a simple peck against her neck, but as it continued downward it became a sloppy kiss over her collarbone. Hockey hardened hands were coarse but gentle over her breasts as he caressed them, bringing them together and giving them the brief attention of his kiss before he was kissing her stomach and the peak of each hip. 

His every breath washed over her, heating the cotton of her panties as he lay between her legs. Katie lay there, biting her lips as she waited for the touch of his hands to flutter over the fabric, but her eyes went wide as she only felt his mouth. Jeremy kissed over her clothed core slowly, his teeth tugging at the fabric that snapped back against her body with a satisfying sound. 

“Jeremy,” she breathed out, her head leaving the pillow to look down at him as he smiled from between her legs. 

His tongue traces slowly up and down the length of the fabric, her legs tensing at the teasing stroked. Slowly she bent them, her hips widening for him. Then, as if she had welcomed it, Jeremy’s fingers traced along the edges of her panties. He teased the sensitive flesh there, pausing only to trace over a small constellation of freckles, before he dipped two fingers inside. They hooked the crotch of her panties, surely feeling the wetness of her arousal there as he pulled them aside. 

Jeremy tucked the fabric off to the side, placing them carefully to assure they wouldn’t slip back into place. His two fingers dragged up and down her slick cunt, dragging the wetness of her core up to her clit before circling slowly. 

A spark of electricity ran its course through Katie’s body, straight from her core to her finger tips, sending her hips bucking up into his touch. Each circle of his fingers was like twisting up a wind up toy, building the pressure up closer and closer but Jeremy wasn’t ready to let her reach her release. 

Dragging his fingers down, he parted her and slowly slipped his digits inside. Her warm embrace welcomed him as Katie angled her hips down, welcoming the slow and steady pulse of his fingers. Jeremy worked her slowly, his fingers seeking out the most sensitive part of her, sending her dripping down his fingers with the careful roll of her hips. Getting her so close with the mere touch of him, until he pulled them free and sat up on his knees in the bed. 

Their eyes met, Jeremy making sure she was watching, as he brought his glistening fingers to his lips and tasted her. 

Katie fought back a moan. 

“You taste as good as I remember,” he hummed, the rumble of his words forcing Katie to take in a sharp inhale. They left her holding her breath until her lungs burned, suffocating, as he dragged her panties down the length of her legs and lost them among the rest of her clothes on the floor. 

Katie lay still in the bed, her eyes fixated on the ceiling as she felt Jeremy’s weight leave the bed. The sudden sound of his suitcase zipper had her jolting on the bed, her hand raising to her chest, only to be calmed by the rip of the condom wrapper. He was gone just long enough to work it onto his cock before Jeremy was crawling back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers. 

“Let me spoil you,” Jeremy spoke in a dreamy whisper, his hand raising to stroke her hair back over her shoulder. He leaned in, and Katie welcomed his kiss with a desperate one of her own. Her hands clutched to his back, one travelling up into the curls are the nap of his neck as Jeremy worked blindly between her legs. His cock fumbled up and down, searching for her core, and only did he find it when she angled her hips up. 

Her core flexed at the mere feeling of him, Jeremy letting out a satisfied hum into her mouth as he kissed her. His mouth didn’t leave hers, not even as his hands stroke down the curves of his waist in search of her hips. His firm hold held them in place as he angled his hips, his cock hitting the safe place his fingers had teased her. 

Katie’s lips fell agape in a gasp. 

“See,” Katie could hear the satisfied grin on his face in his words as he spoke, “I remember just what you like.”

“You do,” she panted, her hand coming up to rest over her lips to muffle her own words in fear that someone might hear her, “you do.”

“What do I do, Katie? I want to hear you say it.”

“You make me feel so good. You-You-” she stuttered through her words, her entire body weak as her climax became closer and closer to being all consuming. She was so close her words left in a rush of air from her lips, “you make me feel beautiful…”

“You are beautiful, Katie,” Jeremy spoke out in a breath, his words firm and genuine as he gripped at the pillow beneath her head. It anchored him as he leaned in burying his face in her hair and placed a simple kiss there. 

His hips collided with hers a little harder, each impact filling the room with a flat smack, pushing his cock to the very limits of her body. It left her reeling, her core clenching around his cock as her fingers clenched into fists around the sheets. 

“My beautiful,” he panted, his teeth gritting as he buried his face further into her hair, until he was placing a sloppy heated kiss to the curve of her neck. It was a kiss that became a strangled groan as he came, “my beautiful gift.”

They lay there together, still and panting for a moment, Katie’s hands releasing the bedsheets and finding Jeremy’s body. It became heavy over hers as she relaxed, her fingers tracing down the strength of his back like raindrops. And when they fell back down to the bed, and Jeremy had stroked her mess of red hair from her face with the gentle touch of his hand, Jeremy eased his weight from her, and his cock out of her. 

The cold air began to settle over her naked body, the sweat that was either his or her own, was left feeling like ice as she was left with nothing but the void of him. Katie brought her legs together slowly, and her arms reached out blindly for the blanket that was left wrinkled over the bed. She drew it into her chest, hugging it to her naked frame and the vulnerabilities that came with being in his bed. 

Rolling over, Katie watched as Jeremy moved towards the trash bin in the corner of the room. He stood there, still naked, with his back to her as he pulled off the condom and crouched down to bury it at the bottom of the bin.  

Katie’s head lulled, her eyes taking dreamy blinks as he moved through the room. She knew she should have been getting dressed. That she should have already snuck back into her own room. But there was something about Jeremy that made her feel calm, comfortable, and it had her burying her head in the pillow just to stay a little longer. 

When Katie glanced back up, her eyes met the sight of his pajama pants draped low on Jeremy’s hips, the red-and-green plaid matching the family set perfectly. It was an absurd sight—this six-foot-something man lounging in her carefully coordinated Christmas tradition. Her gaze lingered on his Adonis belt and how it disappeared into his pants, but her curiosity quickly got the better of her. 

“Did Parker get you those?” she asked softly, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the unease still sitting in her chest. 

Jeremy nodded, looking down at the pants like they were some rare artifact. “Yeah. Said he didn’t want me feeling left out.”

Her heart squeezed painfully at his words. Parker was thoughtful like that, always looking out for everyone—even her. And how did she repay him? By sleeping with his teammate, not once, but twice. Her stomach did a flip in her stomach, bile creeping up the back of her throat – or maybe it was a sob. Katie couldn’t help but feel guilty. Leaning her head back against the headboard, she brought her hands up to cover her face.

“Hey,” Jeremy said gently, reaching out to brush her knee. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, her voice muffled behind her hands.

“Regret this,” he said simply, his tone so full of warmth it made her chest ache.

Katie pulled her hands away, letting out a bitter laugh. “He’s my son, Jeremy.”

“And I’m not,” he replied, his voice steady but careful.

She blinked, fighting back the hot acid of tears that began to build in her eyes. “But you’re—”

“I know,” he cut her off, his voice dropping lower, like he wanted to spare her the burden of finishing the sentence.

“Is that why you’re here?” she asked, her words trembling as she tried to keep her composure. “Because he’s my son, and you knew I’d be here?”

Jeremy hesitated, his silence weighing heavy in the room. He ran a hand through his hair, damp curls sticking to his forehead. 

“It’s a half-truth,” he admitted finally, his gaze locked on hers. “I wouldn’t be here if he hadn’t asked. It beats spending the holidays alone. But I won’t lie, Katie—you were a factor in me saying yes. I wanted to see you. And… you never called.”

Her breath hitched. She looked away, her lips pressing together in a firm line. Her shoulders sunk under the weight of everything she’d been carrying. She had gone on dates since their nights together. Men closer to her age. Friends of friends, her own coworkers, and men she had met on trendy dating apps. But none of them had looked at her the way Jeremy did—with respect, with adoration, like she was the only thing in the room worth noticing.

 “I couldn’t,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Not even when I wanted to.”

“You wanted to?” Jeremy spoke, his voice breaking. 

Katie nodded slowly, her throat tightening as tears welled in her eyes. She hesitated, her gaze faltering before finally lifting to meet his stare that was fixated on her. 

Jeremy’s grin softened into something tender as he reached for her, cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her, his lips warm and gentle, and she melted into him, her hands sliding over his as she held him there, savoring the moment.

“Stay in bed with me tonight,” he murmured against her lips.

“I shouldn’t,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him, her resolve wavering.

“We can lock the door,” he offered, his tone light but his eyes searching hers. He knew the risk. They could get caught by anyone at any moment, but to him, she was worth the risk. “I want to wake up next to you on Christmas morning.”

Slowly, she slipped out of bed and crossed the room to the door. She turned the lock with a quiet click, the sound oddly satisfying.

When she turned back, Jeremy was watching her, his smile growing as she climbed back into bed beside him. She settled against his chest, his arms wrapping around as if this wasn’t the very first time she had crawled into bed with him for anything more than just sex. 

“Goodnight, Katie,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

“Goodnight, Jeremy,” she replied softly, her eyes closing as the warmth of his embrace lulled her to sleep.

There was no morning light filtering into the basement bedroom when Katie stirred. The only light, the soft green glow of the digital clock on the bedside table. Katie stirred awake, only because she heard footsteps overhead, the first signs of someone else being awake. It should have panicked her, but with the haze of sleep still heavy on her, Katie was quickly distracted by the  steady rise and fall of Jeremy’s chest beneath her cheek. His arms were exactly where she had left them when she had fallen asleep, securely around her waist.

Her breath caught for a moment as she shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him. Her eyes landed on the clock across the room—it was early, but not too early. Upstairs, where a single set of footsteps wandered in careful steps, Katie was sure it was one of the adults that was awake, not the children. And with the assumption, Katie gifted herself a rare moment of peace– one she wanted to savor.

Katie lifted her head just enough to look at him. His features were softened in sleep, his jaw slacked in such a way that a soft snore left his lips. Without thinking, Katie leaned in, pressing a feather-light kiss to his chin, the scruff of his jaw rough against her lips.

Jeremy stirred, a low hum escaping his throat before his eyes fluttered open. A drowsy smile spread across his face as he took her in. “Merry Christmas to me,” he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

“Someone’s awake upstairs,” she murmured gently, pressing a soft kiss to his chest before reluctantly pulling away from his warmth and slipping out of bed. “I can’t linger, but you…” She glanced back at him. “You need to wait before coming up. Give it a few minutes—maybe an hour, just to be safe.”

Bending over, Katie collected each of her articles of clothing from where they had ended up in the room. Her shirt had been tossed on the floor, a heat on the carpet that she almost tripped on as she reached for her pants that were left tangled with the top sheet at the foot of the bed. She held them both in her arms, hugged her body, as she searched for her panties. 

“I’ll give you a 10 minute head start,” Jeremy offered her, his words firm and free of sleep, drawing her attention back to him. Katie saw his smile first, his warm brown eyes taking her in as she stood frantic and naked in his room. Then coming between them, was his hand raising her red panties in the air like a trophy. 

Her hand lurched out to them, but Jeremy tugged them away with a playful chuckle, “You get 10 minutes, because I make my girl breakfast after a night cap.”

Katie crawled onto the bed, her movements deliberate as she stretched across his body, reaching for the silky red fabric he held just out of reach. Jeremy’s teasing grin only fueled her determination, and it wasn’t until she straddled his lap—her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him—that she managed to grab hold of them. The duvet draped over his hips did little to shield the heat between them, her fist curling tightly around the panties as she froze, suddenly aware of the position she’d put herself in.

Her breath hitched, her chest rising and falling with a rhythm she couldn’t quite control. For a moment, she let her gaze drop, her pulse thundering in her ears as she took him in. The way he was watching her—smirking yet his face soft with amusement, and the way his hands rested lightly on her thighs—was too much and not enough all at once.

Shaking off the rush of emotions that threatened to consume her, Katie tilted her head, fixing him with a look meant to convey the control she didn’t entirely feel. “I’m not your girl,” she said, her voice low but firm, though the pounding of her heart betrayed the words.

“You were last night,” he chirped, and Katie’s entire body ignited with a heat that left her sweating as she climbed off of him, and out of the bed. 

“Enough of that,” she pointed a finger at him to try to get her point across, but as firm as she was, there was no hiding the color that flooded her cheeks. 

Katie quickly turned in place, hoping that he hadn’t seen the effect he had on her– which she undoubtedly already knew. She hopped into her clothes, one article at a time before tugging her shirt over her head and fixing the buttons just right. 

Behind her, Jeremy’s hum of amusement reached her ears. “Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, Katie.”

Her fingers froze mid-button for a split second before continuing their work. She didn’t dare look back, knowing his grin would only make it worse. Instead, she raked her fingers through her messy auburn hair, took a steadying breath, and reached for the door handle.

The lock clicked, and a gust of cool air washed over Katie as she left the seclusion of Jeremy’s bedroom and ventured into the rest of the house. She moved on the tips of her toes, pausing at her bedroom door. The bed inside was still perfectly made, untouched.

A lump caught in her throat, tight and suffocating. She reached out, pulling the door shut with trembling fingers. The sharp sound of the latch falling into place almost made her jump—or maybe it was the sudden crash of dishes upstairs.

Her heart leapt as her feet carried her quickly up the stairs, past the landing that overlooked the kitchen and dining room. “What the hell just happened?” she called out, her hands raised for emphasis.

Dottie popped up in the kitchen, bright and cheerful, her grin as radiant as the morning sun. “Morning, Porn Star!”

Katie recoiled, as if Dottie’s words had struck her square in the chest. Her breath caught, her body stiffening under the weight of the teasing. She stood frozen, heat rushing to her cheeks as her mind scrambled for a response. But Dottie, as carefree as ever, simply leaned against the counter with a smug grin, her words landing like a well-placed jab that didn’t miss its mark.

“I was hoping you’d have that reaction,” Dottie said, practically glowing with mischief. “Means you listened to me, for once.” She rested her chin in her hands, elbows on the counter, poised to devour Katie’s juicy secret. “So, how was it?”

Katie crossed the kitchen in a few quick strides, lowering her voice as she leaned closer to Dottie. Through clenched teeth, she hissed, “We are not talking about this right now.”

To Katie’s relief, before the conversation could continue, the twins tore down the stairs, their excitement carrying them straight toward the mountain of gifts under the tree.

“Ah, ah!” Dottie tutted, snapping them back in line with a pointed look. “You know the rules—breakfast as a family before presents!”

The boys didn’t argue. They knew better. Instead, they dropped into the same chairs they’d claimed at dinner the night before, their murmured chatter barely audible over the soft strains of Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas floating from Dottie’s Bluetooth speaker.

Their father appeared moments later, kissing Dottie’s cheek as he passed through the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee. The quiet routine of family life settled over the house, and for a moment, Katie almost let herself relax. She busied herself alongside Dottie, both of them working in sync to prepare a feast of eggs, bacon, sausage, French toast, and fresh fruit—a classic Christmas breakfast meant to keep everyone full until dinner.

It wasn’t an easy task for just the two of them, but they worked in a comfortable rhythm… until Jeremy emerged.

Cresting from the shadows of the basement, Jeremy strode into the kitchen, all smug smiles and sleepy-eyed confidence. His gaze locked onto her immediately, unrelenting, like a spotlight she couldn’t escape.

Katie bit her lower lip as she glanced at the clock on the microwave. Eight minutes. He’d waited all of eight minutes.

“You ladies need help here?” Jeremy asked, his voice far too cheerful for someone who had just rolled out of bed.

Katie hummed to hide the groan that threatened to rip up her throat. She had hoped he’d shuffle up half-asleep, groggy and disheveled, like a teenager dragged from bed. Instead, Jeremy radiated a just-been-fucked glow that buzzed with energy. A good night's sleep after sex would always be more effective than caffeine ever could be.

“We’ll manage,” Katie said stiffly, pressing her lips into a firm line.

“I insist,” he said with an infuriatingly easy grin, stepping into the space Dottie had conveniently vacated.

His elbow brushed hers as he slid into the chaos of their morning with a natural ease that made her stomach tighten. He moved like he belonged there, like this wasn’t the first time he’d stood beside her in the kitchen during Christmas breakfast.

Katie struggled to stay focused, her movements stiff and mechanical as she whisked the eggs. Beside her, Jeremy was too close, too casual, and far too smug for her liking.

And Dottie? She hid her knowing grin behind the rim of her coffee mug, her eyes twinkling as they darted between Katie and Jeremy. “You two look cozy,” she teased lightly, before turning toward the living room. “I’ll go make sure the kids don’t sneak any presents while you two finish up here–”

Unlike dinner, there were no forced pleasantries over breakfast. No conversations. Only sleepy morning greetings and yawns before the clink of clamor of cutlery against plates. And after breakfast was enjoyed, and the remnants of breakfast were cleared away, everyone gathered  around the tree for the long-awaited exchange of gifts. 

The twins dove straight into their stockings, a tradition upheld, the stocking filled by family instead now that the twins were too old for Santa. Each and every one of them had them, filled with trinkets, toys and novelties that would be lost and thrown away by next Christmas. 

Katie sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, watching the joy light up on everyone’s faces, her own stocking untouched as it leaned against her lap. It remained untouched, as she stood up, leaving it half spilt on the floor as she carefully handed out gifts one by one. Her gaze softened as she watched the others unwrapped their gifts, her heart swelling at the simple happiness that surrounded her. Even her own gifts, unwrapped one by one, were thoughtful—reading socks from the twins, a bottle of wine from her ex and his wife, and a spa day from Dottie. But when Parker sat beside her, a small box in hand, she couldn’t be left more in awe by his sweet gesture of taking the time to single her out and exchange his gift to her one on one. 

“This one’s from me,” Parker said, his voice low and almost hesitant as he handed her the gift.

Taking it in both hands, Katie carefully peeled back the wrapping paper and lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace that caught the twinkling lights from the tree. Katie’s hand flew to her mouth as her eyes welled with tears.

“You deserve nice things, Mom,” Parker murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You always have.”

Setting the box aside, Katie pulled him into a tight hug, her cheeks wet with tears as she whispered, “What did I do to deserve you as my son?”

She wiped at her cheeks, smiling through her tears, and held the necklace out to him. “Help me with it?”

Parker hesitated, glancing toward Jeremy. “Actually... there’s one more thing upstairs I forgot. Big Dog, you mind helping Mom?”

Jeremy didn’t need to be asked twice. He rose smoothly from his seat where he had perched himself, a simple observer of their Christmas morning. He knelt down behind Katie as she held the necklace in her hands. His fingers brushed over hers as he took the delicate chain. Katie’s next movements felt like they were in slow motion. Both arms reached up, clutching her hair up and opening her neck up for him. His fingers brushed against the delicate skin of her collarbone, sending a jolt of electricity through her body, as he clasped the jewelry around her neck. His touch lingered, longer after he let his hands all away– so long that Katie thought his touch might have etched into her skin forever. 

Katie raised her hand up, letting it splay flat over the pendant and where the ghost of Jeremy’s touch was still on her body. 

“Thank you,” she smiled softly. 

“He spent hours picking it out,” Jeremy said, his voice low, “Parker wanted it to be perfect.”

“It is perfect,” Katie murmured, her voice thick with gratitude. She couldn’t imagine anything better.

Jeremy chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Which is why my gift is going to look pathetic in comparison.”

“Your gift?” Katie tilted her head, curious. “Jeremy, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Don’t worry,” Jeremy smiled, “I got gifts for everyone.” 

He handed them out one by one, distracting everyone with their gift, before he stepped over to the tree and pulled out a small gift bag for her. “Just a little something,” he said, handing it to her. 

Katie dipped her hand into the bag, rustling the tissues paper, as she pulled out a leather bound journal. It had a beautiful golden floral pattern on the cover, and its crisp pages were accompanied by a set of sleek pens. Smiling, Katie opened the journal, only for her smile to waver when something began to fall from the pages. Quickly, Katie pressed her thumb down against the page, stopping the paper–no photograph– from falling to the floor. 

Katie’s heart gave a jolt as she flipped it over. Just a glance at it and she was taken back to the dark bar with warm amber lights in Boston. The picture was taken on the very night they had met. Her back had been turned to the camera, her drink meeting the very tips of her fingers as it was served to her. Jeremy had taken the photo. Why? She didn’t know, but now, he was sharing it with her. 

Her brows furrowed as she looked up at him, speechless. 

Jeremy looked around, at what? Katie didn’t look away from him to know, before he leaned in with subtle instruction, “I figured it belonged with the first page.”

Katie’s let her gaze drop, looking over the elegant front on the page that would guide her along the entry. But Jeremy’s messy scrawl had already overtaken the page. 

November 2021 – Boston. 

Katie,

For You, Wherever You Go.

Boston was the first place I met you in that hotel bar. From that moment I knew you were something special. You weren’t just passing through my life; you were leaving an imprint on it. One that I will carry with me always. And I hope I left the same impression on you. 

This journal is for all the places you’ll go and everything you’ll see—whether I’m with you or just cheering you on from wherever I am. But know this: my favorite journey started the moment I met you. 

Katie’s lips fell apart, a shaky breath leaving them as she struggled to find the words today. Then,  she spoke in a soft whisper. “Jeremy–”

Before Katie could thank him, Parker returned, slightly out of breath from his sprint up and down the stairs.

“His gift goes with mine,” Parker said, his smile boyish and proud.

“Oh?” Katie replied, curiosity lacing her voice. She passed the journal off quickly to Dottie, trusting her to guard its secrets.

Parker handed her a simple envelope, Mom written in neat, capital letters across the front. Katie opened it carefully, not wanting to tear the card. Before she could even pull it out, Parker began explaining. “Plane tickets. So you can come back to Boston and watch me play.”

Her breath caught, her hands trembling slightly as she closed the card and wrapped her arms around him. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. Pulling back, she gazed up at him, her smile soft and full of pride. “It’s perfect. Everything is perfect.”

From the cozy house he had chosen for their holiday to the thoughtful gifts he’d chosen for everyone, Parker had planned every detail with care. Katie’s heart swelled with gratitude and a twinge of guilt for ever doubting that Christmas could be special anywhere but home.

The moment was interrupted by Dottie’s enthusiastic call. “Alright, everyone in front of the tree—family photo time!”

The twins groaned loudly, dragging their feet away from their new mini sticks. They had been gearing up to play hockey with Jeremy as their goaltender, but they knew better than to argue. Reluctantly, they joined their sister and dad by the tree. Ronnie and Monica took their places to the left, leaving room for Parker and Katie on the right.

In their matching pajamas, everyone lined up, leaving Jeremy sitting awkwardly in an armchair nearby.

“I can take the picture,” Jeremy offered, raising his hand.

“No,” Katie said quickly, her voice firmer than intended. Her gaze flicked to him, softening under the weight of his curious eyes. “You should be in the photo too.”

“Oh, I don’t—”

“We insist,” Dottie chimed in with a knowing smile.

“You can stand next to me!” Megan piped up eagerly, but Jeremy was already moving.

“Looks like I can squeeze in right here,” he said softly, stepping behind Katie.

The warmth of his body pressed lightly against her back, grounding her. Then, his hand found its place at the small of her back, where her shirt met the waistband of her pants. The touch was subtle against the skin that played peek-a-boo there—so casual it could be dismissed as accidental by anyone else—but Katie felt the slow, deliberate circles his palm traced.

It wasn’t just a touch. It was a silent message. A thank you. Maybe even something more.

The careful gesture drew her eyes back to him, a fleeting glance that warned him not to get caught. Jeremy’s lips twitched with a hint of a smirk, as if to say, I couldn’t help myself.

Wearing a small smile of her own, Katie turned her attention back to the camera. Around her, the room was filled with the warmth of Christmas morning—the hum of quiet laughter, the sparkle of lights on the tree, and the lingering scent of fresh coffee and pine.

For the first time since her divorce, the holiday didn’t feel like something to get through. It felt like a gift—a quiet, unspoken promise that maybe, just maybe, this was how it was meant to be.

The flash went off, capturing not just the moment, but the secrets she would forever keep, wrapped in the glow of a Christmas they’d never forget.

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50, @callsign-denmark , @xciciix , @puckmaidens , @hockeyboysimagines , @hagelpoint-3821

[lanternlit]

smokedanced is now lanternlit

And with this I return, so excited to be writing again! Further changes...

I have moved Castiel and the Thirteenth Doctor here from their previous blogs (waywardfeathered/dochaes). If you were just followed, we were probably mutuals there! Hi! I plan to slowly follow everyone I had ongoing interactions with or asks I planned to reply to, on those blogs. Slowly, because I want to double check people's guidelines pages first. If you follow me back here, I plan to automatically reply to our things on this blog :)

I've rewritten my guidelines. The contents are mostly the same, but a lot has been reworded, and some minor things have been added or deleted, so it'd be awesome if you could give them a read. I guess this is technically optional, since they're mostly the same as before.

A few muses have been dropped. Kenna de Poitiers, Jeremy Bradshaw, Juliet Burke and Tyrion Lannister have been dropped as muses.

New muses have been added. Cas and Thirteen have been moved here from their previous blogs, and I have added Fifteenth Doctor as a muse. Jake, whom I added, um, nearly a year ago... finally has an about page, now, as well. You all get free shots to fire at me about how I had an OC among my muses for a year almost without any kind of an about page.

Some muses' stories have been altered. Namely, Mary Stuart is now a modern AU based muse, and I don't write her in Reign canon at least for the time being. Ella Finnegan has had her story altered, as well, basically the way her psychic abilities work have been changed. The latter will be easy to retcon in any ongoing interactions.

All muses have at least a dossier and a character premise page. This one is something I am proud of myself for, but also fuck, I got so frustrated trying to write the character premise pages that I can see it when I look at them, what with some of them having the most simple sentence structure and all, but I figured... better some information for my characters than none??? Everyone has something, now! Also, no more half the muses only having placeholder images on their pages! PRAISE THE ABSOL... I mean, my self-discipline. Because these past weeks I have just wanted to COME BACK AND WRITE, but I made myself have those tabs for all the characters first.

It is currently nearing 2am so pleaaaaase excuse me if this post is chaotic. Hi dash love you dash.

Lots of muses have been switched between their activity status. Current list goes:

primary muses: cas, hannibal, iris, izzy, jillian, the tardis, thirteen, will

secondary muses: edi, ed, ella, ever, garrus, lucius, mary, tali, ten

tertiary muses: charlie, clara, dean, river

test muses: chloe, eloise, fifteen, hurley, jake

Speaking of, right, Eloise has been released from "I need to rewatch Bridgerton first!" jail, and she's open for interactions sksksksksk

Guys, I don't remember what else I was meant to say.

The blog has had a bit of a makeover. Nobody look at my navigation page, the only thing I edited there so far was the colour scheme, it is outdated. I know me saying not to look is going to make people look but what can I do. Look at my muse directory and guidelines if you want to look at something, you sneaky sneaks.

The interest tracker has been updated. Chloe and Jake have been finally added on it. Cas and Thirteen have also been added on it. Fifteen has- you understand.

The tracker is the same one I've had before, but if you are interested in any of the added muses, please edit your responses. If you haven't done the tracker before, this would also be a very nice time to do it!

Going forward, I am going to go through my unaswered ooc messages and reply to people, I know there are a lot of you who have been on hold with plotting. Thank you so much for your patience. I am also going to start replying to things again, obviously. Now that my muse pages all have at least something on them, I can continue to work on them while my main focus for the blog is generally, well, roleplay. The pages being in such a state of WIP was a huge source of executive dysfunction for me.

I also plan to re-read everyone's guidelines just to make sure neither of us have edited ours so that we don't match anymore, but that'll not be done overnight with all of you.

I hope the url change isn't a huge inconvenience. If you could give this post a like, if you've seen it, that'd be awesome of you, though not at all necessary! I am genuinely very excited to be here again.

[deepbatched]

Hello! Thank you for tagging me, this is so exciting! ^^, tho i don't have a lot of WiPs published, i do have a lot of them in drafts, and a bigger majority of them in spanish, so i will do a little translation magic for you!

my words: tear/tearing, false, blanket, sweet, ground (any form)

Tear/Tearing: Golden Cage | bbc!Sherlock Holmes x OC

A small plea, a very desperate one would Sherlock think because of the way she was holding her breath after confessing as if she knew what he was going to say. But she didn't know. She fell hard for him, right after sealing her past, body and heart within an oath of eternal celibacy in the belief that no other being was worth her scars. No other but Sherlock Holmes.

“But I know, as a matter of fact, that you would never feel the same for me, and I'm at peace with it”. She nodded to herself as a reassuring gesture. "I'm happy the way we are, you running everywhere and me following behind is enough for me to…" she didn't want to end the sentence, she was not strong enough. 

"Love me?". But he was. "Would you believe me if I told you, Ophelia, my silent cloud, that even though I refuse the idea of me being just human, I am", as if his words caused a relief in her soul, she gasped in awe. 

They had recognized their feelings for each other, what's next now? Both of them asked for themselves.

"I'm not ready for lies" Ophelia said with desperation in her voice. She was tired to be seen as a charity case, to be the person waiting to be fixed because of being different.

That was the same reason Sherlock adored her with such immensity, there was nothing broken, so there was nothing to be fixed in the first place.

"Therefore, I'm not lying", he was tearing down his façade, revealing the face of a men in love, the spectrum of it torturing his most rational self, yet he remained in exposal to make her see they were the same.

False: The Last Echoes | Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

"Wait," she commanded on the other end of the cliff, the mid-sunrise barely kissing the skies of the early dawn, afraid of the end. "Will I see you again?", she breathed out, drawing Obi-Wan's attention.

He looked at her longingly as the stars died their shine over the sun behind her, admiring her nocturnal beauty, trying to capture every glimpse of her before leaving to still have her, to simply immortalize whatever they had and hold the memories to remember for the uncertain fates; not knowing how to respond to that. They were both so used to playing hide and seek none of them imagined it couldn’t continue forever, that one day it would come to an end.

Her eyes darted from his face to his blue lightsaber, both weapons were the only light they could perceive from the other, the only thing that made them able to see each other’s face. Her crystal clear eyes glistened, repressing her tears to the idea of goodbye, seeing her like this was tearing Obi-Wan’s spirits down.

She was a witty brat and an alluring warrior; an impertinent talker and a heavy-hearted soul. And for all of that she was loved, however, loving her now meant betraying what little he had left of the Jedi Code in him. Even dissolved, he still had duties, he still had promises to make and things to give up.

Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond, sound not to be heard as she interrupted.

"Don't say anything," 'was it a change of mind?' He asked himself worriedly, but her Force signature reassured him. "If you're still alive, when your duty is over, meet me. I will be searching where you hide, I promise,” she cried a single tear, feeling weak and helpless.

Even now, in the verge of extinction for the Jedi, he couldn’t escape from responsibility, he was still living a life he couldn’t ignore. Regardless, he gave himself a little hope, a piece of peace to move forward, to keep day-dreaming with a life that he didn’t want to accept would never come; by nodding fervently to his desired lover’s request in their unknown farewell. 

“I will”, he promised with emotion bursting out of his voice, “I’ll see you”, smiling to convince his favorite renegade there was no sadness, he lied to himself with their false delusion.

"Don't forget me". Her request endeared Obi-Wan's heart with sufficient love to endure years to come, like sweet nothings he wanted to fill her with the same care as his loved one. But even if he wanted to, he didn't know how.

Blanket: Clair | Stephen Strange x OC

"Where is Mr. Strange?" Claire asked, catching her breath after running over the whole explanade for him.

"No foolish worries Claire, he will be joining us in a moment," The Ancient One said calmly.

"Tell me she didn't do it again" she murmured to Mordo who just looked at her and nodded. Claire sighed heavily.

It was not the first time that The Ancient One had used unusual methods to encourage her students, Claire's first year as the Sorceress Supreme's successor apprentice was the most chaotic, not only for her but also for a large list of apprentices, sometimes ending fine and other times it was a complete disaster.

"You want me to go get him?" Claire asked Mordo using her telepathy.

Mordo took a step forward, anticipating his partner, being returned by The Ancient One, who truly believed in him. The brunette understood that she had to let him surrender to the fact that he could not control everything around him in order to know what power really was.

Without more she began to observe some sparks, Claire smiled watching as a Stephen on the verge of hypothermia crossed the portal, the man looked at the three figures that rose before him. Claire approached like that first day and held out her hand to help him, he hesitated again before finally taking it but seeing on her face that there were no double intentions on her part, he was able to take it without much difficulty.

"I told you so." She squeezed his arm lightly to lift him up, Strange groaned this time. The Bearer of Light was able to observe something that she had not seen before, the scars on his hands, as soon as she saw them she understood everything "Don't let it afflict you, you are doing well", she managed to praise before his face turned serious when he noticed that Claire had seen his hands.

Claire tore out one of her own hairs and transmuted it into a comfortable blanket to try to cover him from the cold of Everest. She did the motion to cover him up herself at seeing his state, he accepted it without a word trembling, avoiding at all costs finding in her gaze perhaps the first hint of prejudice or pity. However, she was really beginning to genuinely care about him.

Sweet: Silhouettes | Stephen Strange x OC

“Pfff, I was born in the wrong era” Stephen gazed at Cartimandua, who laughed shamelessly at his words, incredulous and amazed by his daring option of phrasing. Remembering all the moons she had seen pass before her eyes thinking the same.

“And what do you think my opinion is on the subject?”, she inquired curious about what his next words would be, too busy sipping her cup to bother on looking through his mind.

“You were born in the right era, just think about it for a sec,” they both kept staring blankly at each other expecting a reaction, until Stephen got tired of waiting and continued his train of thought. “Old guys with long beards, all boring know-it-all bastards sitting in chairs of stone and then you pop up out of nowhere and into the world. You, so full of light, you, so full of new judgment, revolutionary you. And I was born in the wrong place and wrong time to see you blow their brains off with your ideas in my stone chair eating grapes and wearing sheets as a T-shirt”

Cartimandua, not knowing if she was too drunk for her own good or too moved by Stephen’s words to actually move some inches away from him, had her eyes glued to the Eye of Agamotto, unable to keep staring at his eyes so full of truth and genuine admiration for her. The way they both were blushing and 

“No one ever said to me something so sweet” she held her coat with a strong grip in her chest, letting herself feel the tears rolling down her cheeks, Mephisto never in the entire millennium she had with him, ever talked to her with those deep emotions of admiration and respect.

“That's why I think I was born in the wrong era, I would have told you all of this but in Greek” they both smiled to each other, Stephen pulled himself onwards to put his head against Cartimandua’s forehead. He sincerely wanted to turn back time and help her have the life she deserved, now everything was cursed, because he didn’t have the Time Stone anymore.

Ground: Clair | Stephen Strange x OC

"Why do they call you Bearer of Light?" He asked in a serious tone, he didn't want to make the fight monotonous.

"If I tell you, will you fear me afterwards?" Strange analyzed his own response to her as she struggled to break free.

Claire took advantage of that small moment of weakness and wrapped one of her feet between his legs, she raised hers making him fall backwards, but Strange did not release his grip so she fell on him, Claire freed herself before his groans by invoking with the Eldritch magic a whip. She waited for Strange to recover and get to his feet, always respecting the right to fight for his own life.

"What are your real powers?" This confused Claire, why all the interest?

"Did you get tired of asking Mordo?" Strange smirked, summoning the same whip Claire had in her hands, she smirked at him arching an eyebrow, she liked to see that he was learning.

"He hides a lot of things, but you're transparent." Claire nodded, it was true. "What are you to Kaecilius?" She widened her eyes at Strange's question in surprise.

Claire strode over, ducked and kicked him down, Strange fell to the ground a second time, almost instantly regaining his composure and lashed out at Claire, entangling her leg and knocking her down just the same. The brunette dropped scratching her left cheek, managing to make the dark-haired man believe that he had her dominated and then kicked him in the chest, Strange staggered, extending his free arm to maintain his balance, Claire knelt down and punched him directly in his jaw undoing the whip he had on her.

They were both breathing heavily, he massaging the affected area.

"You're good at fighting." Strange said still dazed from the blow.

"Do you really want to know?" He stopped in his tracks for a moment, she stared into his eyes. Strange slowly nodded seriously "If you take me down, I'll answer whatever you want", she smiled at him with amusement, while he took a weapon from the armory, she wanted to win fair without her relic.

Currently I just have Silhouettes (i'm editing the first chapter still:c) and The Last Echoes as published and ongoing on my blog, thank you for letting me share some of my writings.

Find the Word Tag!

Tagged by @residentdormouse and I sure am delighted! My words are: Playful, Energy/Energized, Exhausted, Delight/Delightful, Sorrow, and I'm putting the first one second because it's smutty :) It was HARD to find 'sorrow' in my stories! Edit: and somehow no Steve! Whoops. Tag me again :P

I'd like to tag: @ronearoundblindly @themaradaniels @peyton--warren @baba-fett @sobeautifullyobsessed @bakerstreethound and @deepbatched (spreading around the fandoms/characters hehe! I hereby state that if you don't have many WiPs to use stories you already have published!)

Your words are: Tear/Tearing, False, Blanket, Sweet, Ground (any form)

From 'Joined By the Waters of Time,' Anthony Bridgerton/OC | ENERGY

“I beg pardon, Lady Bridgerton, I did not see you,” Cara said hastily, rushing to stand so she could dip into a greeting curtsey.

“Do not be concerned,” Lady Violet said with a brisk head shake. “I was pleased to see you awake and looking well, but you seemed contemplative, and I did not wish to disturb you.”

“I have bad experiences with thunderstorms,” Cara explained.

“Meanwhile, my brother loves them,” Daphne laughed. “He will probably jest that your dislike of them is part of your ‘involuntary resistance.’”

“What is this?” Lady Violet asked, setting her sewing aside and walking over.

Daphne looked disconcerted. “His remarks were made in frustration, of course, with an eye toward explaining his lack of success, but…” she paused, brows furrowing. Cara imagined she was searching for a diplomatic way to explain their conflict.

“Until recently, I was engaged in a campaign to match your son with my cousin. As such, I exerted my energy in redirecting his attentions away from myself whenever possible.”

She had to congratulate herself on her forthrightness, which would hopefully take any pressure off of Edwina if there was still any question of their match. What she hadn’t expected was Lady Violet’s surprise. It hinted at the idea that their invitation had always been centered around herself, and not a choice between cousins.

“So is there voluntary resistance, as well, then?” Lady Violet’s voice was amused, and she broke out into a wide smile when she saw Cara’s attempt to prevaricate. “Poor Anthony.”

From 'Iron Helix,' Tony Stark/OC | PLAYFUL

“A judicious retreat. People respect a decisive leader, but not one that clings to a losing position. Give in.”

He was definitely moving incrementally nearer. She yearned to close the distance, but his words were weighted. The only thing that would be worse than being rejected, Evie realized, would be to have been rejected after she got to have this. That’s why she followed Tony’s example and grabbed a handful of the blanket on the bed beside her and looked him right in the eyes.

“Which option are you asking for?” she said, feeling like she had a responsibility to signal her certainty that he’d reject her. 

Tony’s nose brushed her cheek, and his breath danced across her lips.  “The one where you trust me,” he whispered, hoarsely. “Yield, Hyacinth. It’s easy, watch--”

--and with that, his lips met hers, one hand tearing away the bunched-up blanket at her hips to drag her underneath him. Tony went from teasing to beguiling, putting all his sensual powers of persuasion to bear on her. 

Evie was on board, raising her bare leg and angling her foot across his backside, locking him in place. He ran the flat of his hand from her hip, across her chest, and along her arm, linking their fingers together and slamming them into the mattress.

She loved kissing, and it was obvious Tony did too. He was really good at it, dominant but not domineering, playful, not afraid to show her he was affected and enjoying himself. And if she’d thought his ability to wreck her without using his hands was heady enough, she was completely seduced by him now. Their combined hands were a proxy of the push and pull of their bodies; Evie rolled her hips in response to the drag of his lips and tongue, and he ground against her, pressing his hardness right where she wanted it.

From 'Trust Fall,' Tony Stark/OC | EXHAUSTED

It’s not long after takeoff when a flight attendant comes over and asks Emory if she’s the person pictured in the article on her phone. She’s already shell-shocked and exhausted after telling her friend and colleague that the organization he’s been risking his life for is infiltrated by literal bad guys. She’d told Clint while still hanging underneath the helicopter, but once they were inside, the atmosphere was too tense to tell anyone else. Agent Rumlow and his team had lost two guys and a few more were wounded. They’d all been furious and demoralized, and that was without knowing the secret about HYDRA’s infiltration.

“Miss?”

“I’m sorry, it was a long day,” Emory says. She feels stretched, like keeping a secret this impactful can multiply in a person’s system until the infection takes them down from within. “Yes, that’s me, but what--”

“You were the one in the cave with Tony Stark?” The young woman’s excitement dampens as she frowns at her phone. “He-- he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No!” Emory says, deeply confused. “What--”

She grabs the phone, and it’s a testament to what she sees written there that the flight attendant doesn’t protest.

From 'Diminished Seventh,' Stephen Strange/OC | DELIGHTED

“Surgeon. You did say that.” Amy let her legs slide down from where she’d drawn them up against her chest. “Why aren’t you anymore? Were you looking for a way to cheat death?”

The question was fraught, but the words had already left her lips. Explaining why she wanted to retract them would be more painful than pushing through.

“No,” Stephen said. The word bore more weight than it ought to, she noticed. “I was injured. My hands.” He didn’t hold them up, instead toying with the tubes of the stethoscope absently. He shrugged, and again, she sensed weight there, a great loss bandaged up in shrugs and sarcasm. “I lost that job, needed another one.” 

His hidden sadness made Amy again yearn to see what he looked like pleased, contented, happy, joyful, delighted. She wanted to collect his emotions, mix and match them, be able to conjure them on demand. The strength of it shook her.

While she was reckoning with that, Stephen leaned over and pressed the stethoscope to her chest. Amy seized up, too vulnerable to want him quite so near, not with those thoughts only a breath away.

“I thought you said you were feeling bet--” He cut himself off, pulling his hand and the medical device away. “You are afraid of me.”

“I don’t know how to feel,” Amy said defensively. It was the honest truth, and as such, felt too revealing by half.

From 'A Solution More Beautiful,' Remus Lupin/OC/Sirius Black | SORROW

“Soup would be a great dinner idea,” Remus said, resting his arm on the back of the couch. “Even though Sirius detests soup. It’s almost as if his mother trained him to be some sort of anti-soup crusader.”

“Which actually means she fed him soup every day while yelling at his technique, more like,” Elodie said, laughing.

Remus looked at her with a curious expression on his face. “Sirius talked to you about his mother?” he asked, clearly very surprised.

Elodie’s heart sank. She’d slipped up with her unnatural knowledge again. She decided to deflect with the truth. “No, he didn’t,” she said. “I just remember the subject of his mother came up, once, and his reaction was so negative I just extrapolated from there.”

Remus made a wry face and looked down at where his hand was playing with a fraying thread from the couch. “I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up there, but he’s got a lot of baggage from his parents, and it would be a powerful thing if he felt he could unload some of it.” He looked up at her, and she could see the depth of his caring for his friend reflected in the sorrow in his eyes. “He had a warped view of family dynamics even before Azkaban.”

“We’re his family now,” Elodie said. She had tried to say it with firm conviction, but she yawned halfway through. “Damnit. I meant to sound more badass there. Like a final line before a commercial break.”

“The funny thing here is I can’t tell which is a typical Elodieism and which is a product of pain medicine and sleep deprivation,” Remus chuckled.

Trust Fall and Diminished Seventh are here on Tumblr!

[raiiny-bay]

the final evolution

[orcelito]

Ok so the person I had for my driving test was really nice, actually. I mentioned how I do have glasses but it's a light prescription so I might be able to do the sight test without them & I'd like to try. And he was chill with it, just said that whatever I did in the place I had to do during the test too. Which apparently I don't need 20/20, I just need at least one eye to pass it. So I did!!! My left eye definitely didn't see good enough lol but my right eye managed it. Which means I don't have a glasses restriction on my license. I just need to have mirrors on both sides, which pretty much all cars do these days.

So I drove without my glasses. It went fine! Just made me a little more nervous about reading speed limit signs, but I managed. I didn't even have to do parallel parking for it lol. He just had me drive thru some residential areas, thru a school zone, etc etc. I was very careful to not speed at All and to fully stop at every stop sign. Etc etc.

Got out of the car and he was like "now that we're out of the car, congratulations! You passed!!" And I was so keyed up on nerves that it didn't fully sink in immediately hdkshfks but it's sinking in I think

I passed my driving skills test!!! I have my license!!!!! Smth I've been so nervous about for TEN. YEARS. I finally did it!!!! And then I'll get my own car, and I'll be much more independent, and I can DO THINGS....!!!! Like go to the mall on a whim!!!!! Exciting!!!!!