#might just drop the game and play it once a month and a half for the update

[bittrbuttr]

After baizhu gets his banner will there be any reason to play genshin? Him and Scara were the unreleased characters that were holding the fort down for ages but now that they're both in game what? We're gonna stick around for cat girl number 500? For whatever racist mess they're gonna make out of Natlan? Idk

[jungwnies]

TIKTOK TREND WITH YOUR F1 BOYFRIEND | "we listen and we don't judge"

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : "we listen and we don't judge" trend

୨ৎ : genre : humor, angsty only if you squint ୨ৎ : tws : light teasing, SLIGHTLY suggestive for lewis and charles ୨ৎ : word count : 3255

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : race weekend !! can't believe lewis is finally breaking up with mercedes :'(

ʚ・max verstappen

you and max were sprawled on the couch after dinner, scrolling through your phone, you came across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and turned to max with a mischievous grin.

“max, we’re doing something,” you announced, setting your phone down.

he raised an eyebrow. “what now?”

“it’s this trend. i’ll say ‘we listen and we don’t judge,’ and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve kept from me. then it’s my turn. we go back and forth, no getting mad. deal?”

he smirked, clearly intrigued. “sounds dangerous. but alright, i’m in.”

you grinned. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge.”

max leaned back, rubbing his chin like he was deep in thought. “alright... sometimes, when you’re not around, i watch rom-coms. and yes, i cry a little.”

your jaw dropped, and you smacked his arm lightly. “you cry? you don’t even tear up during sad movies with me!”

“no judging!” he reminded you, laughing. “your turn.”

you sighed, biting back a smile. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i say i’m folding laundry, i’m actually just lying on the bed scrolling on my phone.”

max blinked, a laugh bubbling out of him. “seriously? i knew it took you way too long to fold a few shirts!”

“no judging!” you shot back, grinning. “your turn.”

he grinned, leaning in a little. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i told you i’d stop eating stroopwafels late at night, but i have a secret stash in the garage.”

you gasped dramatically. “the garage? max!”

“you said no judging,” he said smugly. “your turn.”

you rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “okay. we listen, and we don’t judge… remember when your favorite hoodie ‘got lost’? i actually stole it, and it’s hidden in my closet.”

his eyes narrowed, though he couldn’t hide his grin. “so that’s where it went! i’ve been looking for it for months!”

“it’s comfy!” you defended. “last one, your turn.”

max smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… when i say i’m working late at the simulator, half the time i’m just watching motorsport documentaries.”

you stared at him, stunned. “max!”

he laughed, throwing an arm around you. “hey, at least i’m consistent. no judging, remember?”

“fine,” you muttered, shaking your head but smiling. “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

it was a rare, lazy afternoon at home with lewis, the two of you stretched out on the couch with no obligations for the day. you were scrolling through your phone when a trending couples game caught your attention. immediately, you knew lewis would make this hilarious.

“lewis,” you said, nudging his arm.

he turned to you, smirking. “what is it now?”

“we’re playing a game. it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ i’ll say that, and you have to confess something funny or random you’ve been hiding. then it’s my turn. but no getting mad.”

his smirk deepened, clearly intrigued. “no getting mad? sounds like this might end in trouble.”

“just go with it,” you said, grinning. “you’re up first. we listen, and we don’t judge.”

he leaned back, tapping his chin like he was debating the perfect confession. “alright… we listen, and we don’t judge. i once borrowed your face cream, and now i’m low-key addicted to your skincare routine.”

you blinked at him, your jaw dropping. “you’re the reason i keep running out so fast?”

he grinned sheepishly. “your stuff’s top tier. what can i say?”

“unbelievable.” you shook your head, but you couldn’t stop laughing. “fine, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge... i sometimes hide the remote under the couch cushion when you won’t stop flipping channels.”

his mouth fell open in mock shock. “that’s why i can never find it?!”

“no judging!” you reminded him, biting back a laugh.

“alright, alright,” he said, sitting up straighter. “we listen, and we don’t judge... when i say i’m texting toto, sometimes i’m actually looking at old pictures of roscoe.”

you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “roscoe’s been getting all the attention while i’ve been sitting here, huh?”

“he’s my boy,” lewis said with a shrug, a proud grin on his face. “your turn.”

you smirked, thinking for a moment. “we listen, and we don’t judge... i may or may not have eaten the last slice of cake and blamed it on you forgetting it in the fridge.”

he pointed at you, his eyes wide. “you did that? i thought i was losing my mind!”

“no judging!” you said, giggling.

“fine,” he said, shaking his head but laughing. “last one. we listen, and we don’t judge... i keep your voice notes on my phone and listen to them when—”

before he could finish, you grabbed a pillow and smacked him with it. “lewis!”

he was already cracking up, raising his hands in surrender. “you said no judging!”

“and you’re breaking the rules of decency!” you shot back, hitting him again as he laughed harder.

he eventually grabbed the pillow from you, pulling you into his lap. “you’re lucky i love you. even if you ate my cake.”

“you’re lucky i love you,” you teased back, resting your forehead against his. “even if roscoe gets all your attention.”

ʚ・george russell

it was one of those chill evenings at home, where neither of you had any pressing plans. george was scrolling through his phone, half paying attention to whatever was on tv, when you suddenly sat up with a mischievous grin.

“george,” you started, already giggling.

he glanced over, instantly suspicious. “what have i done now?”

“nothing… yet. but we’re playing a game,” you said. “it’s called ‘we listen and we don’t judge.’ we take turns confessing random, stupid things, and the other person can’t get mad or judge.”

he narrowed his eyes, clearly trying not to laugh. “this sounds like a trap.”

“it’s not a trap!” you promised. “come on, i’ll start. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re out, i play f1 23 just so i can crash your car and watch it fly into the barriers.”

his jaw dropped. “my car?! my poor car! how could you?”

“no judging!” you reminded him, grinning. “your turn.”

he sighed dramatically, shaking his head. “alright, fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… once, when you were in the shower, i tried on your slippers, and honestly? i get why you love them so much. they’re so soft.”

you stared at him, stunned, before bursting into laughter. “you mean to tell me you’ve been walking around in my fluffy bunny slippers?”

“not walking,” he said defensively. “just… trying them on.”

“sure,” you said, still laughing. “okay, my turn. we listen, and we don’t judge… one time, i accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater in the wash and blamed it on the dryer.”

george’s eyes went wide. “that was you?! i thought i’d bulked up!”

“no judging!” you said quickly, holding back another laugh. “your turn.”

he leaned back, a mischievous grin on his face. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you’re asleep, i watch those weird, satisfying carpet-cleaning videos on youtube.”

you blinked at him, trying not to laugh. “you’re telling me you’re out here binge-watching carpet scrubbing at 2 a.m.?”

“they’re oddly relaxing!” he said with mock indignation. “your turn.”

you smirked. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i stole one of your racing socks once because i couldn’t find mine, and i still have it.”

“oh, so that’s why i’ve been missing one sock this whole time!” he said, pointing at you dramatically.

“you weren’t supposed to notice!”

george laughed, pulling you into his arms. “this game is wild, but now i’m going to look at my socks, slippers, and sweaters very differently. also, we’re getting you your own racing socks.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

it was one of those laid-back evenings, the two of you lounging on the couch, tiktok videos filling the quiet air between laughs. carlos had his phone propped up on the armrest, both of you scrolling through videos. when you came across one of those “we listen and we don’t judge” videos, your eyes lit up.

“we should do that,” you said, grinning at him.

carlos raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “tú y yo? (you and me?) i don’t know… are you sure you’re ready for my confessions?”

you crossed your arms and smirked. “oh, please. i bet you have nothing on me.”

“alright then,” he said, locking his phone and turning fully toward you. “we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you ask me to fix something around the house, i pretend i don’t know how so you’ll do it.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “carlos! you’ve been faking it?”

“no judging!” he said, smirking back at you, completely unfazed. “your turn.”

you shook your head in disbelief but couldn’t help but laugh. “fine. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once took a picture of your car keys just so i could send it to you and pretend i had your keys when i’d lost mine.”

his eyes widened. “wait, so you’ve been using my keys to trick me into thinking you didn’t lose yours?!”

“yeah, well… no judging!” you said, grinning.

carlos leaned back, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes, when you get me to help you clean, i do half the work and then take a break to watch racing highlights on my phone.”

you stared at him for a moment before bursting out laughing. “you’re literally cleaning with one hand and watching f1 with the other?”

“isn’t that multitasking?” he said, shrugging with a teasing grin. “your turn.”

you rolled your eyes, but your lips couldn’t stop smiling. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been secretly eating your chocolate stash. and no, i don’t plan to stop.”

carlos leaned toward you, pretending to be shocked. “¿qué? (what?) you’ve been stealing my chocolate? that’s it, i’m hiding it next time!”

you giggled, shrugging innocently. “no judging!”

carlos pulled you closer, laughing softly. “alright, alright. you’ve won this round, but next time, i’m keeping my keys—and my chocolate—locked up.”

you smirked, resting your head on his shoulder. “no judgment, remember?”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles was sitting at the piano, playing casually, while you were scrolling through tiktok. you stumbled across the "we listen and we don’t judge" trend and couldn't resist showing him.

“amour, look at this. we should try it.”

he looked up from the keys, a playful grin on his face. “what is it? another tiktok trend i’ll regret?”

you showed him the video. “it’s a confession game. we take turns sharing things we’ve kept secret, and the other person can’t judge. we listen and we don’t judge.”

he raised an eyebrow. “you know i’m already regretting this, right mon amour?”

you laughed. “don’t be dramatic. we listen and we don’t judge.”

“alright, alright,” he said, stretching. “i'll go first…we listen, and we don’t judge… i used all your shampoo in the shower once, and when i realized it was nearly empty, i just told you it was already like that, so i threw it out while i was cleaning.”

you blinked, looking surprised. “charles! and you didn't even buy more!”

charles laughed. “at least i put it in the recycling, right?”

“no judgment…i guess." you chuckled, shaking your head. "alright, your my. but i’m keeping track of this, and i'm checking how much shampoo is left every time i get in the shower!”

you take a deep breath before giving him a cheeky grin, “okay, we listen, and we don’t judge… when i told you i knew how to cook that fancy dinner, i was actually watching youtube tutorials the whole time. i burnt it twice, so i just pretended i forgot and ordered something instead.”

charles burst out laughing. “i knew it! it tasted too good to be true. so, you’ve been secretly lying to me this whole time?”

you shrugged innocently. “we listen, we don’t judge.”

he raised his hands in surrender. “fine, no judgment.”

then, he leaned in a little closer, his grin turning slightly mischievous. “okay, last one, but don’t judge, alright amour? i… sometimes fantasize about you in that dress you wore the other night… and how it’d look when you—”

“shut up, charles!” you cut him off, quickly throwing a pillow at him. “don’t say that out loud!”

charles just laughed harder, hands up in defense. “what? you said we listen and we don’t judge!”

“i didn’t say you could be that honest!” you shot back, laughing as you tried to grab the pillow back.

he grabbed it first, pulling you closer and holding you in his arms. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you’re stealing my shampoo.”

you grinned, leaning your forehead against his. “you’re lucky i love you, even when you make me blush with your terrible flirting.”

charles winked. “i’ll take that as a compliment.”

ʚ・lando norris

you and lando were sprawled on the couch, both scrolling through tiktok when you came across the “we listen and we don’t judge” trend. you smirked, nudging him.

“hey, this looks fun. we should do it,” you said.

lando glanced at the screen, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “oh, i’m so in. i’ve got a few things i’ve been meaning to get off my chest.”

you laughed, knowing this could get interesting. “alright, we listen, and we don’t judge.”

lando immediately sat up straighter, ready to spill. “okay, okay. i’ve got one. we listen, and we don’t judge… i’ve been telling you i’m really good at making spaghetti, but the truth is, i just pour sauce over it and hope for the best. i don’t actually know how to cook it properly.”

you stared at him. “wait, you’ve been lying about being a chef this whole time?”

lando shrugs, looking way too proud of himself. “hey, it works. you still like it, don’t you?”

you couldn’t help but laugh. “i don’t even know what to say to that. you’re like a pasta fraud.”

he leaned back, looking smug. “i’ve never been caught, so it’s all good.”

“alright, my turn,” you said, smirking. “we listen, and we don’t judge… i once accidentally ate all your leftover pizza and just left the box in the fridge like nothing happened. i thought you wouldn’t notice.”

lando’s eyes widened. “noooooo, you didn’t! you ate the pizza and didn’t even say anything?”

you nodded, trying not to laugh. “yep. i was hungry.”

he rubbed his temples. “this is worse than the spaghetti. at least i knew what i was doing with that!”

“hey, we don’t judge,” you shot back.

lando paused, looking like he was trying to think of something equally embarrassing to share. “alright, alright. this one’s a good one. we listen, and we don’t judge… sometimes when i’m on facetime with you, i don’t really pay attention. i just let you talk while i’m scrolling through instagram or playing games. but i’m good at pretending like i’m listening.”

you stared at him, wide-eyed. “what? no way. so all those times i thought you were listening to me, you were just—what? ignoring me?”

he winced, shrugging. “i mean, yeah. but i still love you, i promise! i’m just multitasking.”

“lando!” you threw a pillow at him. “i can’t believe you! that’s a whole new level of rude.”

he ducked, still laughing. “we listen, and we don’t judge!”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, well, i’m judging. big time.”

then you paused, smirking. “fine. one more. we listen, and we don’t judge… i once tried to sneakily eat all your chocolate bars, but i was so obvious about it that you caught me before i even finished.”

lando couldn’t help but laugh. “what?! you didn’t even hide it well?”

you shrugged. “i panicked, okay? i thought i could get away with it.”

“i can’t with you,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you’re lucky i love you, even though you’re a snack thief and a liar.”

you grinned. “i’m lucky you love me, even though you can’t even cook spaghetti properly.”

he smirked. “you’re lucky i still cook for you, pizza thief.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

you and oscar were curled up on the sofa in your shared apartment, mindlessly scrolling through tiktok. a video popped up showcasing the "we listen and we don't judge" trend, and you nudged oscar with your elbow.

"hey, this looks fun," you said, grinning. "we should do it."

oscar, his eyes still glued to his phone, shrugged. "sure, why not?" he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "though i can't imagine having any confessions that are that scandalous."

"oh, you'd be surprised," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "everyone has secrets, oscar."

he chuckled, finally tearing his gaze away from the screen. "alright, let's do it. we listen, and we don't judge."

you took a deep breath, a mischievous glint in your eye. "okay, here goes. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have 'accidentally' shrunk your favorite mclaren hoodie in the wash. like, significantly."

oscar's eyes widened in horror. "you what?!" he exclaimed, leaping off the couch to inspect the damage. "not the hoodie with the papaya stripe! that was vintage!"

you winced, trying to hide your amusement. "it was an accident! i swear! i must have mixed up the settings on the washing machine."

he held up the shrunken garment, now more suitable for a toddler than a formula 1 driver. "y/n, this looks like something a chihuahua would wear!"

you burst out laughing. "okay, okay, i messed up. but hey, maybe it'll make a comeback as a crop top?" you joked, trying to lighten the mood.

oscar sighed, but a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "alright, alright. my turn. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have accidentally reversed your car into the mailbox last week."

your jaw dropped. "what?! the mailbox that's now leaning at a 45-degree angle? that was you?!"

he cringed. "yeah, about that… i was in a bit of a rush, and i may have misjudged the distance."

"misjudged the distance?" you repeated incredulously. "oscar, you're a formula 1 driver! you judge distances for a living!"

he shrugged sheepishly. "everyone makes mistakes, okay? besides, it's not like i crashed an actual race car."

you shook your head, still in disbelief. "this is unbelievable. what's next, are you going to admit you can't actually cook?"

oscar's eyes widened, and he quickly changed the subject. "okay, your turn! let's hear another confession."

you smirked, knowing you had him on the ropes. "alright, fine. we listen, and we don't judge… i may have pretended to like your favorite band just to impress you when we first started dating."

he gasped dramatically. "you mean you don't actually enjoy listening to that obscure australian rock band?"

you cringed. "okay, maybe 'enjoy' is a strong word. but i've grown to appreciate them… sort of."

oscar burst out laughing. "this is too good! i can't believe you've been faking it this whole time!"

you playfully punched his arm. "hey, at least i tried! besides, it's not like you haven't exaggerated your cooking skills."

he grinned, pulling you closer. "touché. well, i guess we're both full of surprises."

you snuggled into his side, still chuckling. "yeah, i guess we are. but hey, at least we can be honest with each other, right?"

"absolutely," he agreed, kissing your forehead. "we listen, and we don't judge… mostly."

© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[distantdarlings]

TAUNTING // e. berkshire

RATING: R / 3.5K WORDS

Lorenzo Berkshire x Fem Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this and this* After hearing some rumors traveling about that Enzo Berkshire might have a thing for you, you decide to make him as jealous as you can.

+ WARNINGS - SMUT! PIV, Oral sex (m!receiving), Dom!Enzo, Sub!Reader, slight degradation, praise, (1) slap, language, brief mention of alcohol, brief mention of drugs, brief mention of masturbation Fem Reader Insert, not fully proof-read (if I left anything out, please lmk!!!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Who Do You Want? - Ex Habit

You were being mean. You knew you were. But you couldn’t help it.

Every tick of his jaw, every twitch of his eyes, every snarl of his lips…it was intoxicating. You couldn’t believe you’d never noticed it before.

Enzo…his jealousy, his desire to touch you, to feel you, to be yours… His lust radiated off of him like heat waves, blistering your skin like radiation.

The sweat beading over your lips and across your forehead slid over the sides of your face, slicing down your flesh like knives. The hands on your waist tightened against your bones, clutching their fingers possessively into your body.

Despite the beat of the music threatening to vibrate your heart out of your chest, you could see his envy so clearly.

Through the haze and the sweat and the bodies, you could see his eyes harden and his knuckles bleed white. You just hoped that the little game you were playing with him wouldn’t lead to Theo getting hurt.

Precious Theo… Though the two of you had broken up over six months ago, it had been mutual and you both craved each other from time-to-time. You’d only slept together once since you’d broken up but you were getting antsy.

It had started with Pansy Parkinson telling you that she’d heard a rumor being spread around. A particularly dirty rumor that threatened to ruin a gorgeous boy’s social ego. You thought back to what she’d said.

“A couple girls from Ravenclaw that sit behind us in Potions swear Enzo gets a hard-on every time you slip your robe off.” Pansy giggled and slapped a hand over her lips to cover up any raucous laughter that threatened to slip out.

“Pansy! That’s such a lie!” you’d shrieked, giggling along with her. “Lorenzo Berkshire does not like me, let alone get a hard-on every time I take my robe off.” You’d whispered that last part, not wanting any walkers-by to hear your dirty conversation.

“It’s at least worth a check, just to see if it’s true.”

And that evening, during the last class of the day, you’d let your robe slide down your arms and land against the back of your chair. You’d turned back to glance at Enzo and, sure enough, his eyes were already on yours. When you made contact with him, he quickly glanced away and dropped his hand into his lap. You refrained from an evil smirk.

And now, here you were, dancing against Theo, your ex, trying your hardest to elicit a response from the boy eyeing you from across the room.

It was an end of semester party, just before the big exams and the end of the school year. You didn’t want to wait to see him again. Between exams and packing, you wouldn’t get another chance to do anything with him for a couple months.

You turned back toward Theo, letting your hair slide over your shoulder and brush across the back of your neck.

“Teddy, baby, will you do me a favor?” You pulled yourself close against him, whispering into his ear. The music and the amount of firewhisky in his system probably had half of your words drowned out.

“Of course,” he slurred. “What is it, darling?” Everytime he was drunk, his accent popped out tenfold. There was a time when he was absolutely irresistible to you, but now, you had your sights set on another.

“I’ll explain later, but—” you paused, hands on Theo’s face, his hands on your waist, and glanced back at Enzo to make sure he was watching— “I need you to kiss me hard.”

He pulled away and looked at you with a bit of shock. “Is this for me or someone else?”

“Someone else…is that okay?”

“I suppose,” he joked, rolling his eyes. “I’ll probably get someone else tonight anyway.”

“Ew, you whore.” The two of you laughed.

“You’re one to fucking talk, bella,” he teased, scraping his teeth gently against your jaw. You giggled and slapped him away quickly before refocusing.

Theo locked in and tangled a tight grip in your hair, yanking your face towards his. His lips found yours in a rough heat, claiming what used to be his. His lips tasted like firewhisky and his hands were dominating. It was almost enough to make you forget about poor little Enzo waiting across the hall for you like a kicked puppy.

You slowly pulled away from Theo, whispered a small thanks, and turned back to Enzo. Or, rather, the lack thereof. The space that was once occupied by the brooding boy was completely empty. Fuck. Maybe you’d gone too far.

You pushed your hair out of your face and moved away from the lanky boy you’d just been grinding on for the last half-hour. He’d busy himself elsewhere.

Swallowing thickly, you pushed through the bustling crowd, weaving in and around hot, sweating bodies reenacting what Theo and you had been doing, and what you and Enzo should be doing.

Once you came to a clearing where only a few stragglers stood around, and the dim light from the hallway torches contrasted against the cool-toned strobes above, you found him.

The hazy clouds of herbal smoke clouded your vision and senses; the second-hand inhales nearly made you light-headed.

Enzo stood with his back toward you, broad shoulder leaned against the doorframe, head tilted toward the sky, fingers clutching a messily-rolled joint.

His dark hair was shoved away from his face with a light gel that allowed his natural curl to peak out just a bit. Two silvery studs decorated his ears and matched the chain around his neck, that framed the slit of bare chest that was revealed by the black button-up he wore only half-buttoned. You nearly dragged him to your dorm right then and there.

You stalked over to him, moving briskly past your intoxicated peers, ignoring any call that came from any of them.

“Hey, En—”

Your voice was cut off by one of the random people standing behind you.

“Enzo! Where were you at practice tonight, man?”

One of his fellow Quidditch team members jogged up to him from behind you. Enzo turned to see who had called his name and, whilst finding his friend’s attention, he caught yours as well. You smiled just a bit, watching him closely.

As his friend ranted about what a great practice Enzo had missed, you watched as your dark-haired target of the night barely paid any mind to the boy in front of him, and looked you up and down slowly. You felt as if he was devouring every inch of your body with his eyes.

You smirked at his reaction to seeing you, but he didn’t return the smile. His jaw clenched tightly and he seemed almost angry. You wondered if you had pushed him too far.

“Yeah, yeah, man, I’ll talk to you later,” Enzo finally interrupted the boy and gave him a dismissive pat on the shoulder. Understanding that Enzo was done with the conversation, the boy broke away and wandered back into the bouncing crowd.

When the boy was gone, he took a long drag from the joint, and turned away from you. He was mad.

You rolled your eyes at how your plan seemed to have backfired and closed the distance between the two of you.

With a slow start, you slid around to the front of him, catching his eyes seductively. He stared at you but said nothing.

“En, I was wondering if I could speak with you?”

He took another long drag, tilted his chiseled jaw upwards, and blew the smoke toward the sky.

“I’m surprised you still have a voice, considering you just had Theo’s entire tongue shoved down your throat.” You blushed, embarrassed, and glanced towards the floor. You placed your hands innocently behind your back and glanced up at him.

“I was trying to make you jealous,” you whispered.

“What was that?” he dropped his head toward yours to try and meet your eyes. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Speak up.” He was demanding and stern but it only intrigued you more.

“I said I was trying to make you jealous.” You finally looked at him. He took another drag and glanced around, once behind him, then once farther into the party, before turning back around. He placed his hand onto the wall above your head, caging you completely against his broad body.

“Can I?” you asked, glancing down. Your eyes refused to leave his.

With his free hand, he gently but firmly pressed your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted your head up and placed the joint between your lips, his smoky fingers brushing across them in the process. He watched as you took a deep inhale and your eyes fluttered as the drug filled your system. You knew you would feel it soon enough.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice low and dark. “Good girl.”

Even after you exhaled, he refused to remove his hand from your face as he took another inhale, dropped the joint to the stone ground, and stamped it out with his shoe.

“So, you were trying to make me jealous by rubbing your ass all over your ex and kissing him in front of me?” he asked.

You nodded. “Did it work?”

The peace in his eyes drained, leaving deep, angry voids. “Yes.”

His fingers drifted from your chin down to your throat where they wrapped stiffly around you. The light pressure he applied made it feel as though the drug was seeping into your system faster.

He pressed his face between your head and shoulder, lips brushing up against your skin.

“Every day in class you’d let that fucking robe slide down your body, you’d let your hair fall across your back, and you’d glance back at me with that fucking look on your face. Were you trying to get a rise out of me? Is this what you wanted?” he growled.

His hands were rough on you and his words were mean but he pressed a gentle kiss on your neck to soften the whole situation.

“Mmhmm,” you sighed to the air, your eyes fluttering closed once more.

“And then in there with Theo?” he growled. “What's your game?”

When you didn’t answer, he wrapped his fingers tightly into your hair and held your head against the wall behind you, keeping you tightly in place. His eyes found yours once more, then your lips.

“Answer me,” he demanded.

“You, En…” you gasped. “I want you to fall in love with me so I thought I’d make you jealous.”

“Why did you think that would work?” he whispered, his voice menacing and cruel. “I don’t want to fall in love with you now, sweet girl…now I want Theo to watch me fuck you.”

His words made your knees buckle pathetically. Surely he didn’t mean what he said, but the thought of Enzo touching himself at night to voyeuristic fantasies of you and him made you want him even more. You nodded your head.

“Yeah? You want that, baby?” he cooed against your skin, eliciting chills across your chest and shoulders. His free hand trailed a gentle fingertip down your throat, then your collarbone, then between the split of fabric that pressed your cleavage together. The touch of his warm, rough fingers against your breasts made your breath stutter in your throat.

“Well, that’s too fucking bad.”

He pulled away suddenly, grabbed your hand, and roughly pulled you into the direction of the dungeon’s lavatories. You weren’t sure what he had in mind with the two of you going in there, but you were sure it couldn’t be anything good. Though at this point, your desire outweighed any threat of punishment from any form of authority. All you wanted was him.

He slammed the male lavatory door open and shoved you through, his movements rough and dominant. You stumbled over the threshold, the tiles slipping beneath your shoes.

In an attempt to catch your balance, you placed yourself against one of the small porcelain sinks lined against the western wall. Taking advantage of your current position, Enzo placed a wandless locking charm on the door and crossed over to you in milliseconds.

His head dropped below yours as his arms wrapped around the swell of your ass. He propped you up onto the sink behind you, careful to block the faucet from poking into your back.

With little regard for the increasing issue between your legs, he placed rough hands around your waist and ground your hips into his, allowing you to feel every inch of the issue he was also having.

You stifled a moan, your lips parting just a bit. He smirked meanly, his dazzlingly sharp teeth showcasing themselves between the slivers of moonlight sliding through the windows above.

“En, please…” you begged, your arms wrapping around his neck, trying to urge his lips towards yours.

“Ah, you can dole out the teasing, but you can’t take it, right?” he smirked. “Can you take it, baby?”

At his words, a single hand slid down briefly and skirted over the core of your body through the material of your dress. You gasped at the sensation.

“Please, baby, I’ll do anything!” you whined, pathetically reaching your hips back towards his.

“You’ll do anything?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow. You nodded quickly.

“Okay, baby,” he said, yanking you off the edge of the sink. Your feet hit the floor with a jolt that shot up your entire body.

“On your knees.” His voice was demanding and his eyes were cold. The lust that blossomed beneath his waist did little to melt the ice pooled in his pupils. You swallowed thickly, briefly wondering what you’d gotten yourself into. Whatever it was, you liked it.

You promptly obeyed and dropped to your knees, the thin flesh there bruising quickly. He wrapped your hair into a makeshift ponytail and tilted your head up to make eye contact.

“Suck.”

A shiver ran through your body as you quickly got to work sliding the button of his pants apart, and ripping the zipper down to the ground. Despite the layer of his briefs still between him and your mouth, you marveled at how big he was. You were slightly concerned you weren’t going to be able to fit him anywhere after having not been with anyone since Theo.

Nevertheless, you dropped his pants and briefs to the floor, his belt clinking on the way down. He was enormous but you refused to back down from any challenge handed to you. With a deep, shuddering breath, you wrapped your hands around the base of him and replaced the negative space with your mouth.

At the sensation of your tongue laying across him, the grip in your hair tightened significantly and Enzo groaned roughly. His free hand grasped the edge of the sink where you once sat in an effort to keep his stuttering knees afloat. The effect you appeared to be having on him made you all the more desperate for him.

“Good job, baby,” he groaned. “That’s so good.”

His words made the wetness pool between your legs more and more by the minute. If you didn’t have him within the next few minutes, you were going to have to give yourself something.

You pushed your head back against the hand holding you in place. He released his hold on your hair and looked down at you, a single bead of sweat dripping down the side of his jaw.

“What is it?” he panted.

“I want you,” you whined.

“No, I think you got enough from Theo.” His eyes were serious and biting. Blood drained from your face at the thought of not getting to feel him.

“No, please,” you begged, placing your hands against the edge of his stomach. “Please give me something…anything. I need you so bad.”

He seemed to be contemplating your words for a moment before he clicked his tongue and pulled you up by your hair. The slight burn on your scalp pulled a whimper from your lips as he directed your body right into the space he had just been occupying.

You were pressed back against the sink with his hips pressed into the back of you. A shudder passed across your lips as he turned your head to the mirror before you and demanded a single word: “Watch.”

Your lips parted in a gasp of disbelief as he flipped your dress over your back and roughly yanked your bottoms down around your ankles.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, his fingers ghosting over every part of where you needed him most. Your eyes fell shut as you reveled in the feeling of him touching you.

“Eyes open,” he asserted, bumping you into the sink a bit with his hips. You could feel the hot length of him against you.

When he decided he was ready to start with you, he placed hot fingers over your waist and guided you back and onto him.

At the stretch of him inside you, breath escaped you. Your heart pounded up and out of your chest, through your throat, and out onto the mirror before you. You felt as though you might collapse if it weren’t for the boy behind you holding you up.

You watched as his eyes fluttered shut behind you and a silent moan pierced his face. The expression of his pleasure, the size of him, and the fact you hadn’t been touched in months was almost enough to push you right over the edge.

His pace was set rather quickly. It was brutal and demanding, just like his personality. Your fingers wrapped tightly around the porcelain sink, begging for purchase on anything.

You watched him beat into you from behind, lathering in the feeling of him taking full and utter control of you. He was mean now, and he knew it as well.

A melody of moans and gasps escaped you as he hit everything he was supposed to with raging ferocity. His jaw clenched and his eyes opened a bit wider.

“Can Nott do this? Huh? He ever fuck you like this, baby?” he growled, fingernails clutching into your soft flesh. You whined at the feeling.

At the lack of your ability to reply, he grunted in frustration and laid a sharp slap to your ass. You gasped at the biting sensation and felt your pleasure begin to push itself over the edge.

“Answer me.”

“No! Nobody but you, baby. Nobody makes me feel this good.” You choked on your words, sweat dribbling across your throat.

The tail of your dress was clutched in his free hand and he used it as a kind of leverage to slam himself into you at record pace. You wouldn’t last for much longer if he continued his brutalization of your body. You felt delicate and helpless in his arms.

His form of fucking was so much different than Theo’s. Where Theo was long and thin and softer and let you take control from time-to-time, Enzo was thick and rough and kept you pinned down. Merlin, help.

As you quickly approached your end, your eyes rolled far back into your skull, demanding release from the inside-out. Your body couldn’t withstand anymore of Enzo’s cruelty—you were going to shamelessly finish against him, of which you breathlessly warned him.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

He leaned against you, forcing himself into you even deeper, and pressed his lips against the shell of your ear.

“Say my name—not his… mine.”

“Enzo, baby…,” you whispered, his words against your skin dropping chills down your spine.

“Say it again,” he groaned, his pace becoming more desperate and his voice more strained.

“Enzo…”

“Again,” he moaned, his fingers tightening against you.

“I’m fucking close, Enzo,” you whined. His speed quickened.

“Oh, I’ve touched myself to the thought of you saying that to me, baby,” he groaned, breath fanning against your cheek.

At his sinful words, you could feel your body be shoved over the edge.

You came with a breathless scream, the sensation hitting you harder than Enzo’s hips pounding against you.

Seconds after you’d rode out the edge of your finish, Enzo released a high-pitched moan against your ear—one so beautifully contrasting to his deep, demanding voice from earlier.

When the two of you had finally finished and come back to your senses, breaths heaving and lips swollen, you laughed hysterically.

Despite the weight of the situation only moments before, the two of you could feel the glee just from being able to finally touch the other.

The pent-up desire Enzo harbored for you and the newfound lust planted in your heart had created a heat-fueled rush that caught you both off guard. But neither of you could lie, it was far better than anything you’d felt in a while. No offense, Theo.

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[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐱𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 – 𝐫𝐢𝐤𝐢 ⊹˚꙳⁺⋆₊･*❅

bf!riki x gf!reader

୨୧ genre: fluff | words: 998 | cw: none ୨୧

₊☃️‧₊˚❄️˚₊‧🌨️˚ ⋅

a half-eaten cake sat on riki's desk, its frosting smudged where someone (you) had playfully smeared it on riki’s nose earlier, and the 'happy birthday' balloons you'd carefully taped on the wall now pooled on the floor.

the two of you had spent the day together, grabbing lunch at his favorite ramen shop and playing arcade games (where, of course, his ego refused to let you win and you would not hear the end of it, ever).

now, as the day came to an end, you were standing in front of his bed with an envelope in your hand.

"what's that?" riki asked in confusion as he looked up from his phone.

"open it and find out," you said with a smile, sitting down on the edge of his bed and handing him the envelope.

your heart beat just a little faster when he took the paper and carefully began to open it. he shot you one more glance before slowly pulling out the content, his eyes widening in shock when he processed what he held in his hands.

his eyes snapped back to you, a look of disbelief on his face, almost as if he didn't trust his own eyes.

"you haven't seen your family in months, so... surprise," you said hesitantly when he didn't say a word.

riki wordlessly dropped the envelope and pulled you against his chest, squeezing you so tightly he might as well have suffocated you. "how did you think of this?" he asked, his words muffled by your hair.

you gently pulled away, just enough so you could look at him. "i know you're trying to hide it and act all nonchalant, but sometimes it's obvious you're homesick, love."

you chuckled as riki winced in feigned disgust. "don't call me cute names. you'll make me blush and all that shit," he mumbled.

you just playfully stuck out your tongue before you got up from his bed and stepped on his desk chair to pull down the suitcase that he kept on top of his wardrobe.

"start packing, love," you said, making sure to put special emphasis on the nickname, "we're leaving tomorrow."

while riki started to throw almost his entire closet into the suitcase, you explained to him how you'd gotten in touch with his sister to plan the trip with her. you'd met her before, during the one time she'd come to visit riki abroad. back then, you hadn't been officially dating – you hadn't even really been friends yet. you'd just shared a few dance classes but you rarely spoke outside of them. when konon had come to visit, he'd been giving her a tour of the campus and the dance studio, barging into the practice room with the subtlety of a hurricane just as you were in the middle of rehearsing.

"i think i'm done," riki announced with satisfaction, having added practically half his room into the suitcase that dared to overflow.

the next day, when you arrived to japan, you could see the excitement on your boyfriend's face as soon as the plane landed. he was quick to show you the way to the baggage claim, and just a few minutes later, you were scanning the arrivals hall for his parents.

once riki caught sight of them, he gently took your hand in his and guided you toward where they were standing. you stepped back while he happily hugged his parents, wanting to give him enough time and space to greet them first.

you only saw him from the side but he smiled more than he had in a long time and that alone was enough to know you'd chosen the right birthday gift after all.

after riki introduced you to his parents and you exchanged warm greetings, you made your way to his family home. riki was holding your hand in the middle seat, mindlessly brushing his thumb against your knuckles as he looked outside the window and took in the snowy scenery.

you looked outside too, not through your window but through his so you could catch a glimpse of the sparkle in his eyes whenever you passed a place he probably had made memories in.

when you arrived to his place, you only brought the suitcases inside, before riki gently grabbed your arm and pulled you outside again.

"i wanted to show you so many places, we'll start right away," he announced with excitement, taking your small hand in his bigger one and tucking them both into the pocket of his warm jacket.

you were walking through his neighbourhood while riki told stories about almost every corner, and when he wasn't speaking, the soft crunch of snow underneath your feet filled the silence.

"wait, stay here," riki said suddenly, letting go of your hand and pulling out his phone from the pocket of his pants. he took a few steps back and shot a picture of you smiling into the camera.

"cute," he said with a grin. "now, look over that way," he instructed, motioning toward some distant trees as he adjusted his phone, pretending to find the right angle.

just as you posed, a cold lump of snow hit your shoulder, and you spun around to find riki grinning, the remnants of the snowball still in his hand.

you squinted your eyes. "you little shit," you gasped, quickly crouching down to form your own snowball and throw it at him.

later that day, when he'd shown you his room, you were sitting in his bed, your back resting against his chest. "you look different when you're at home," you said with a soft smile, and though riki couldn't see it, he knew you were smiling.

he wrapped his arms around you a little tighter and placed a quick kiss on the top of your head.

"i feel more like myself here," he replied after a while, his voice just a hint softer than usual, "that was the best surprise i could have asked for."

part four of my xmas special. tap here to get to the other members!

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

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[pjmmania]

If Snow Decides to Fall

1. “I think we could do it, baby.”

Chapter Warnings: Heavy smut, fingering, dominant/submissive motifs, unprotected sex, explicit language, unplanned pregnancy

Back to Chapter Index

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

There was an enthralling tightness in your stomach as you knocked on the door to Jimin’s apartment. It was a Friday night in April, and you were right on time.

The door opened and there he was, clad in some comfy gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt. His dark hair was parted at the middle, some pieces draping near his almond-shaped eyes. He’d been growing it out for the past few months, just to try something new.

The grin that met you was classic and unceasingly alluring, “Oh, it’s you.”

You smirked and rolled your eyes at the teasing, letting yourself in. You brushed past him, “I don’t have to stay long, if you were expecting someone else.”

The man shut the door behind you, licking his lips through a suppressed smile. This game you so often played together amused him - pretending that this affair was far more casual and meaningless than it was.

At first, you were just the new girl in the styling department that caught his eye. Over nearly a year, it evolved into something deeper. You went from a one-night stand, to friends with benefits, to something exclusive. Neither of you would define this stage of your relationship, but both of you were confident in one thing - you only had eyes for each other.

Jimin leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, "I'm not expecting anyone else."

You walked up to him, getting close enough for him to want to lose it. His hands dropped to your hips, "So you wouldn’t mind if I stay a while?"

You let your nose gently graze against his. His chuckle was low and handsome, "I was planning on it, baby."

A giggle escaped you as your lips met. Every time he kissed you, Jimin experienced some form of revival. Your affection had become something he couldn’t go long without, and the very same could be said for you.

His hands slid from your hips to your rear and gave it a small test squeeze. Almost reflexively, you pressed your lower half into him further. He was already semi-hard, but the contact solidified things down there.

Now both of you were hungrier for the thing you’d been anticipating all day. Your lips encased the other’s over and over again, as Jimin began to slowly lead you into his bedroom.

As you started this familiar dance across the vinyl floor of his apartment, you let out a soft moan. Jimin’s fingers traced along the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head, revealing a bra he hadn’t yet seen on you.

He smiled lustfully, eyes set on the red lacy piece, “Is this new?”

You threw your arms around his neck, aching to feel close to him again, “I might have gone shopping recently.”

The black-haired man kissed you once more, “Have you now?”

“I had to,” you smirked, “You’ve practically torn through my other ones. Lace is delicate, you know.”

Another laugh broke through Jimin’s lips. The next kiss was deep and passionate, stoking the fire. You were absorbing him through all of your senses, enthralled in every ounce of him. You had no idea how this was your real life. Park Jimin, adored by millions, wanted you.

You didn’t know it, but he felt the same. Out of all the people who threw themselves his way, he somehow managed to stumble upon you at the right place, at the right time. Jimin always theorized that the universe had already given him the lucky draw when it came to his career. That his luck had been spent on landing a place in the biggest band in the world. That’s why meeting you baffled him - how could he possibly have gotten more fortunate?

You pulled apart for a moment when you realized that you were standing at the base of his bed. Jimin took this brief instant to gaze into your eyes. They carried more than simple desire. His heart knew what they were spelling out, yet his brain couldn’t compute. And he couldn’t tell you that he desperately felt the same.

He kissed you softer this time. The sentimental nature of it told you how deeply he cared for you. That this was more than just a hook-up for him.

You let your forehead linger against his, “Jimin…”

His arms wrapped around your waist. He was in no hurry, simply enjoying feeling this close to you, “Y/N?”

But you had no idea what you wanted to say, so you made something up on the fly, “I…I didn’t bring a condom with me.”

He kissed your nose before pulling away completely, slightly confused as to why you’d say something like that. You never brought the protection with you when you came over. Heading over to his nightstand, he said, “Doesn’t matter. You know I always keep some here.”

He opened the top drawer of the small wooden table, paused for a second, and then began to rummage through it, “Huh…Well I thought I had some here.”

You felt let down but downplayed your disappointment, “Oh, okay. We don’t have to tonight, then.”

Closing the drawer, Jimin looked back at you with an optimistic, flirty expression, “Or, we could do other things.”

A smile lifted your features. You could have died whenever he looked at you like that - it turned you to mush. Quickly, his hands were on your cheeks as you were pulled into his lips. You moaned softly, feeling his erection still prominent against your femininity.

The making out became fervent again. Jimin sighed as he felt his cock throb, “I want to make you feel amazing, sweetheart.”

There it was. The nickname that absolutely melted away all resolve, and he knew it.

Wanton, you moaned again and let the current take you away, him being pleased by the effect he had on you. Your tongues played nicely together as he gently urged you backwards onto his bed.

Once on top of you, his swollen crotch pressed more firmly against you. He hummed at the tiny spark of pleasure it brought him, grinding his hips back and forth. You moaned as his lips attacked your neck and collarbone and pulled up his t-shirt. Jimin sat back on his heels for a second to whip it off, tossing it aside hastily so he could get back to you.

His lean muscular frame torso, bare and warm, felt like a comfort against you. You felt your face get hot when his kisses trailed down to the valley of your breasts. He always got so turned on by the feeling of your soft breasts on his cheeks.

As he enjoyed his time with your tits, he was mindful not to neglect your now aching core. Jimin’s right hand, the dominant one, drifted down your abdomen and snuck under the hem of your pants. You were in joggers, so he was given easy access. He was satisfied to be met with the feeling of rather thin lace panties.

Knowing that you preferred his fingers to his mouth, he played gently with your clothed clit by tracing over it in a circle. His touch was agonizingly light.

You moaned both with pleasure and frustration, “Why do you always do this?”

Jimin’s smug little grin set you ablaze, “Because you love it.”

You tilted your hips up to gain more friction from his fingers, whining at his truthful words.

“Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” He continued to tease you, “You love feeling like putty in my hands, completely at my mercy. It’s alright to enjoy it.”

Helpless, you nodded, “Fine, I love it. Can you please just touch me?”

He had you right where he wanted you, and it didn’t take anything at all. You would have felt embarrassed, but you knew that soon enough it would be his turn.

Jimin pulled off your pants. Just as he was hoping, your panties matched your bra. You were a feast for his eyes to behold, laying there all hot and bothered in a red set. You were like a fantasy, face flushed and eyes pleading for more. The dim lighting in the room, combined with the moonlight peaking through, danced on your chest as it rose up and down with your breaths.

He then got off the bed momentarily to pull down his own pants, just to save time. He knew that by the end of pleasing you, he’d be dying for relief. His cock sprang free, bobbing up and down with a reddened tip. The sight of him fully naked never failed to impress you. His dancer body was slender yet powerful, trained into this shape by years of performing some of the hardest choreographies in his industry.

Jimin climbed back to you on the bed and slowly guided your panties down your legs.

The brush of his middle two fingers up your core made you gasp softly, eyelids fluttering shut. Feeling your tempting wetness sent a pulse through his member, “Hm…You’ve been waiting for this all day, haven’t you baby? Waiting for me to touch your pretty little clit?”

You agreed as he applied the right amount of pressure, rubbing you faster, “Y-Yes.”

He grinned, “I have too. Every Friday I can’t wait to leave the studio. It’s like clockwork. All I can think about is getting to fuck you.”

As if that gave him an idea, his next move was to insert those two fingers inside your heat, placing his thumb on your sensitive bud instead. He was assertively driving you insane from both places now. As his fingers moved in and out, his thumb skated over you with precision.

You moaned, coating his digits in slick fluids. The sounds produced made the lack of condoms all the more infuriating, filling him with an intense primal desire to take you hard. As the minutes went by, your sounds increased in frequency and volume.

“Jimin!” Your voice was unabashed, “Keep going, just like that.”

“You like this, baby?” He taunted, “Hm?”

You whimpered lewdly, “I’m so close.”

Your words fueled his drive to bring you over the edge. He couldn’t help but let out a low huff as he watched you be in the throes of pure rapture, but it wasn’t enough for him to shake off his teasing demeanor. You looked so beautiful like this, totally caved-in under his touch.

Right as that delicious pit was beginning to form deep in your gut, he pulled away entirely.

Face red and breath slightly labored, you asked, “Why did you stop?”

Jimin prevented you from voicing any more complaints by locking his lips with yours. Then he smiled, “Turn on your side for me, sweetheart.”

You smiled back, knowing exactly where he was going with this. It was one of your favorite positions. You followed his direction and soon felt his chest pressing against your back as he spooned you. His hand slid over your hip and found your clit once more.

You moaned again at the contact, angling yourself towards Jimin so that you could kiss him. This is why you loved this position - it felt so romantic.

His strokes quickened. Your breathing hitched as he began to kiss your neck, “Oh god, Jimin!”

You felt his cock eagerly touching you from behind. On the small of your back you could feel his warm precum, smearing as he instinctively pressed himself further to you with a soft grunt.

Thinking about his readiness accelerated your own pleasure. It was beginning to build now. You were so painfully close that your legs began to quiver.

You threw your head back into the crook of his neck, eyes screwing shut. Jimin’s voice was dangerously low, “That’s right. Cum for me, baby.”

With one last moan, your legs spasmed and you came undone. Jimin continued his motions until you were through. You were left panting now, body limp. Aftershocks washed over you as he explored the result of his efforts. Every tingle inflated his ego. You were so enticingly wet and warm.

You rotated onto your other side so you could face, sealing it all off with a kiss. He grinned into it at first, but his expression changed into one of longing once his cock was given direct contact with your wet folds.

You maneuvered your hips against him, wanting to elicit more of a response. Jimin released a small groan, “Fuck…”

Wantonly, you swung your leg over him and hoisted yourself up into a sitting position on his needy manhood. He licked his lips before pursing them together, gazing up at you with starving eyes.

Testing the waters, you glided your slick, warm cunt over his hardness. He let out another low grunt, gripping your ass roughly. It was taking every ounce of self control not to ram his cock up inside you. All it would take was one thrust, and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself.

You repeated the action, but your movement was stopped by the strength of Jimin’s hold on you. His brows were furrowed together, eyes shut. He looked like he could explode, frustrated and deprived of what he wanted most.

Feeling is bare member against you was something that didn’t happen too often, at least not like this - when you were this soaked and he was dying to be inside you. It made you wonder if, just this once, you could do it anyway, without protection.

Your rational side told you it was too risky. You hadn’t been great with the pill as of late. In fact, you were so inconsistent with it that you had an appointment set to get an IUD in coming weeks.

But then you started to think with your privates.

You gave it a little bounce and moaned, your head falling back. It was torturing Jimin. He knew exactly what you were thinking and found that, much to his dismay, he wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight. This felt way too good.

“Y/N, we can’t,” he sighed, “I wish we could but we shouldn’t.”

“I…I know,” you said breathlessly, “It’s just so tempting.”

He chuckled and sat up, guiding your lips into his by holding your chin. You hummed into the kiss, wrapping your legs around him.

Jimin pulled away and tucked your hair behind your ear, “I think if I got to fuck you raw, I’d never want to wear a condom again. It’s a dangerous game.”

You adjusted yourself on his lap, causing both of you to moan again. He dipped his head down so we could kiss your breasts.

His voice was low, his eyes darkened, “Stop, baby.”

But there was something about his tone that told you he didn’t completely mean it. He was telling you to stop, while secretly and stupidly hoping that you wouldn’t. It only emboldened the side of you that wanted to break the rule.

“The chances of anything happening are low.” You said in a near whisper, leaving the door open for him to navigate away from this if he wanted to.

Instead, Jimin continued to love on your body, placing kisses on your collarbone and sternum, “Are they?”

You closed your eyes and enjoyed his adoration of you, “Yeah. My cycle is always regular, so I know when my fertile days are. Today isn’t one of them.”

“Is that so?” He planted his lips on your jawbone.

You hummed, “And you could pull out at the end, to be extra careful.”

Without warning, you were flipped onto your back. Your hair fanned out onto the pillow below as you looked up at a hovering Jimin, who was losing his reluctance. His cock was lined up dangerously close to your entrance, leaking with precum and begging for release.

“Fuck, I want to feel you so bad, sweetheart,” he said, “Would you let me?”

Too eagerly, you nodded and craned your neck up to kiss him. Now that you’d given the green light, he began to intentionally press his tip into you. Your head fell back on the pillow as his dropped to your sternum, both of you releasing sounds of pleasure.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had sex without a condom, but he was certain that it didn’t feel this amazing. The bottoming out was intense for you, so he gave you a few moments to adjust. You could feel so much more of him as opposed to the usual that it was jarring.

Jimin’s eyes screwed shut, “God, you feel incredible. Are you alright?”

You nodded, “I’m okay. Please, move."

He pulled out halfway before giving you a slow yet deep thrust. The breath he let out was jagged and husky. Without a condom masking some of the sensations, he was now able to feel every bit of you. You were so tight, so lubricated and hot.

Settling into a steady rhythm, your moans picked up. He was delivering wave after wave of gratification, "Oh my god...F-Faster, Jimin."

His pace picked up and he threw his head back, "Fuck, baby."

He wasn't holding back anymore. Soon enough he was pistoning into you, letting out unadulterated grunts every few thrusts. He pinned your legs back against your chest, giving him an even deeper access. The tip of his cock was prodding against your cervix. It felt so right this way, especially when he looked directly into your eyes. You were so vulnerable to him, yet completely cared for.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a long kiss, both of you moaning into it. Jimin took a break, feeling his orgasm pending.

"I need," he panted in between kisses, "I need to change positions or I won't last long, sweetheart. I already feel like I could cum any moment."

You giggled a little through your pleasure and rubbed the nape of his neck, "You can have me any way you want me. I just want you to feel good."

"Mm," He kissed you again before pulling out of you, "And I want you to cum on my cock."

You were flipped over again, this time onto all fours.

"Are you gonna be a good girl and cum again for me?" He entered you again, hands cupping your hips perfectly. You were dripping at this point, so he was able to slide in effortlessly. The patting sound of his v-line hitting your ass was almost pornographic, joining the chorus of your heavy breaths and groans.

He slapped your ass, "Answer me."

You loved this filthy side to him. A whimper was your response, "Yes, yes I'm gonna cum!"

It was no exaggeration - his strokes were hitting the right spot without fail. You could only take so much more before you let loose for the second time.

Your vulgar tone sent him into overdrive, battering your pussy in a way you'd only experienced a handful of times before with him.

You practically mewled, "Ah! Jimin, I'm cumming!"

Your walls clenched around him as you released again. His jaw slacked as he moaned at the increased tightness, "Yeah, baby. Fucking cum around my cock. Show me how much you want my load."

Coming down from your high took longer than before, as he kept fucking you unrelentingly.

“Gonna cum soon, sweetheart.”

Jimin’s eyes were screwed shut, his brows cinched inward. His lips parted as he slipped totally past the point of no return.

You were delirious in your afterglow, almost drunk on the sensation of being mounted by him. You bent down and let your cheek rest on the pillow, ass still up.

“J-Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Do it inside me.”

He threw his head back and let out what sounded like half moan, half chuckle. You could hear by his tone that he was smirking, “You’re a little daredevil, you know that? Fuck, say it again.”

Your voice shaky from being rocked back and forth so hard, you repeated it, “Cum inside me, Jimin.”

He was so turned on by the phrase. It unlocked some deeply rooted desire that existed within every man. His fingertips were digging into your hips, “God yes, I’m cumming!”

A low growl came out of him at the same time as his seed. His hips slammed into you a final time, the tip of his cock pressed firmly against your womb. Spurts of cum rushed into you, coating your walls.

Jimin gave a few gentle thrusts as he rode out the high, breathing heavily. He then stilled, lingering for another moment. You hummed in satisfaction when he finally pulled out.

He sighed with a grin on his face as he reached over to the nightstand to get a tissue. For whatever reason, he liked to take care of you after sex, taking it upon himself to wipe you clean and make sure you were comfortable.

He wiped away whatever came dripping out of your pussy, threw the tissue in a wastebasket, and then collapsed beside you. He was on his back, while you were your side facing him. Jimin’s tired smile was mirrored by yours.

He rotated onto his side too, “That was amazing.”

"It was." You whispered.

Your hand was limp on the sheets between the two of you. He took it within his and brought it up to his lips, kissing your knuckle. Your heart ached for him in intimate moments like this, both of you naked and completely comfortable in each other's presence. You got lost in his eyes, and he in yours. His expressive ones carried a more doe-like quality now as they drank you in. Countless instances like it were what made you both realize that your relationship was more than just sex.

But what was it called, exactly? The lack of a label was useful, at first. Jimin could escape the commitment of having a girlfriend, and you could keep your job. The company had strict rules about artists' dating lives, but it also outright forbade relationships between co-workers. If they knew about this, you'd be terminated immediately.

However, behind closed doors, it was getting harder to accept the state of your relationship. It was more bountiful than either of you expected, but now you were secretly beginning to wonder if this was all it ever could be.

You spent the night at Jimin's place, as usual. You kept a toothbrush and some of your own toiletries there. You even had some of your clothes there - a couple of pairs of socks, some sneakers, and comfy clothes. Just your typical Saturday gear, for when you inevitably had to leave in the morning and act like it never happened.

*5 weeks later*

Another Friday afternoon. You were still at work, going over the styling concepts for the guys' upcoming album. You were drowning in fabric swatches, trying to piece together seven main looks that would mesh with each other nicely while expressing the music's overall feel.

You'd been locked in your office all day doing this, only letting the world know you were alive when you had to use the restroom or refill your water bottle. It was no wonder that you lost track of time, not knowing how late it was.

Your colleague and friend, a fellow stylist named Chaeyoung, opened your door and ducked her head inside, "Uh, you know it's four o'clock, right? Don't you have that doctor's appointment?"

You looked at her with wide eyes and dropped everything, eyes then darting to the clock, "Shit, I didn't realize."

It was the day you were scheduled to get your new form of birth control, the IUD. Your gynecologist was a fifteen-minute drive and your appointment was at four-twenty, meaning you had to hurry.

You grabbed your jacket and shoved some things into your work bag hastily - laptop, phone charger, and the binder with all the swatches in it.

You hated to leave in such a hurry, but you rushed past your coworker, "Thanks, Chae. I'll see you Monday."

The sound of her amusement behind you was evident, but you had no time to stick around. As you left the Styling Department, you muttered goodbyes to your other colleagues, who were all starting to wrap up their business for the week.

The door to the department let out into a wide hallway. The only other department on this floor was Marketing - the rest of the doors were conference rooms, restrooms, etcetera. One of them was a stairwell. You were on the third floor of the building, and at the speed you were going, taking the stairs would likely get you to your car faster than the elevator.

The clacking of your pumps echoed in the stairwell as you focused on trying not to break an ankle, your free hand grazing the top of the rail.

You hustled until you reached the door that would open to the parking garage, which was beneath the building. As you reached for the push handle, the door swung open towards you.

Startled, you maneuvered out of the way in the nick of time, to avoid getting hit in the face. To your surprise, it was none other than Jimin and Jungkook.

You'd gotten fairly acquainted with all of the members of BTS since starting at the company, enough that being in their company was no longer awkward. So, when you were suddenly confronted with the youngest member, you weren't perturbed. Both of them were warm with you, greeting you with kind smiles and apologizing for almost running into you.

Jimin, in addition to being happy to see you, also took notice of how hurried you seemed - bag and jacket strewn carelessly over on one elbow, breath a little weary from running down the stairs.

He raised his brows, "Where are you off to?"

You turned a little pink. If it was just Jimin, you might have been fine, but there was no way you could omit the truth in front of Jungkook.

"Just a doctor's appointment." You blurted.

Well, it wasn't necessarily a lie.

You couldn't sneak anything past Jimin at this point. He could read your expressions effortlessly. Clearly, you were a little frazzled, but his gut told him to let it go for now, for your sake.

Wanting to appear casual, you asked, "How about you guys?"

The younger replied with a pat on his brother's back, "Just coming back from a photoshoot."

You nodded silently. Trying to save you from speculation on the part of Jungkook, Jimin made sure there was nothing on his face that could make him suspicious, "We'll get out of your way, then."

You nodded politely and smiled at them again, "Thanks, sorry guys. H-Have a good weekend!"

They cleared the way for you to move forward, and you did. The door closed behind you as you headed into the garage, digging for your keys.

The two men resumed their walk up the stairs. They were going to the second floor to grab a few things before heading to the eighth for a brief recording session.

Jungkook glanced behind him for a second and then caught up to Jimin, "Jeez, that was weird. And you didn't ask if she was coming over tonight. Everything alright between you two?"

His question came from a good place, but it made the other look all around them to ensure their privacy. He then shook his head and chided the younger in a sharp whisper, "Keep your voice down!"

They proceeded to climb the stairs. Jungkook took it down a notch and whispered in response, "Sorry...But is everything okay?"

Jimin sighed. This really wasn't the time or place for this, "Yes, we're the same as always. And I didn't ask her if she was coming over because it's pretty much a given at this point."

A chuckle came from the heavily-tattooed man, "Must be nice, guaranteed sex every week."

"Shut up," Jimin hissed again, "It's not like that. We do other things too."

"I know, I'm just teasing. Relax," Junkook smirked, "And you're still exclusive, right?"

Now the older was becoming frustrated, "Yes, we are. Your point, please?"

Jungkook's bunny smile appeared as he enjoyed getting a small rise out of him, "Nothing, nothing. It's just, some might call that-"

The conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door above opening and closing. Jimin counted his lucky stars.

"Alright, Y/N," your gynecologist, Doctor Baek, sighed contently as she sat down on a cushioned stool beside the examination table, "I just need to go over a few details again with you before we move forward with the procedure."

You were sitting on the table in a blue gown, ready to get this over with, "Sure."

She went over the things you discussed during your initial consultation for this, just to ensure all of the information was the same. Coming down to the end of the list, she said, "Okay, you experience no chronic headaches or dizzy spells, correct?"

It was correct, although you had one minor dizzy spell earlier in the week. But it was only one, so it couldn't be significant, "Yes."

"Great. And lastly, there's no possibility you could be pregnant, correct?"

You bit your lip, not knowing how to answer that. As annoying as it was, you figured you should err on the side of caution, "I don't believe so, but I did have unprotected sex about a month ago."

Doctor Baek, a kind woman and a true professional, nodded without any sign of judgement, “Any symptoms, like nausea or breast tenderness?”

“My breasts have been tender, but that always happens around my period,” you said little nervously, “But I think got my period last week.”

Doctor Baek seemed confused, “You aren’t sure? I thought your periods were pretty regular.”

“W-Well, they are,” you weren’t sure if you were trying to assure her or yourself, “But it was lighter than normal.”

The doctor hummed, and wheeled over to the little desk in with a computer on it, “I see.”

She logged into the system and began typing away. You swung your feet around each other, beginning to feel a bit anxious, hands folded in your lap.

“I’m ordering a pregnancy test for you, just to rule it out,” she said, making a few clicks on the desktop before swiveling back to you, “It will be a urine test, so we will have the results in a few short minutes. If you’re not pregnant, we will proceed with the implantation, okay?”

Doctor Baek got up to retrieve the test she ordered from the lab. A storm of bewilderment and nerves brewed within you as you nodded along, trying to sell yourself as composed. Meanwhile, you were wracking your brain for any other signs you could have missed. How could these even be possible given your very regular cycle. It was never off. Yes, you and Jimin made a dumb decision in one moment of passion, but you knew it wouldn’t have been possible on that day.

Could the one and only time you had unprotected intercourse, have occurred at the one and only time your cycle was off?

As the panic swirled, you started mentally kicking yourself for being so careless.

A few minutes, the doctor came back with the test in her hand. It looked like anything you could have found at a drug store, plus a cup. For sanitation reasons, you were asked to take the cup into the bathroom and pee into it. From there, Doctor Baek gloved her hands and dipped the stick test into the cup. She then put a lid onto the used cup and sealed it in a biohazard bag for disposal.

Sensing your nerves, your kindhearted care provider set the test aside to do its work, “We’ll give it a few minutes. Try not to worry.”

You nodded silently, but it was all over your face.

Doctor Baek scooted the stool closer to you and patted your knee, smiling at you emphatically, “Don’t let your thoughts spiral just yet, Y/N. Take it one second at a time.”

She was right, you thought. You were getting worked up over nothing. The likelihood was small, and so was the reason to brood. You were able to settle yourself for the remaining minutes, which went by in a flash.

Then your bubble burst.

Doctor Baek went to pick up the test, "Well, you won't be getting the IUD today, I'm afraid."

Your gut fell as you shook your head, "B-But what about the bleeding? I had a period last week, right?”

"Light bleeding is actually an early sign of pregnancy."

The rest of your appointment was fuzzy. You could barely comprehend what she was saying to you, overcome with a harsh squeezing feeling in your stomach. You had Park Jimin's child growing inside you. You might have been upset, but how could you have been? Both of you made a conscious, risky decision that night, and this was the consequence.

The dominant emotion sending you into a freeze response was helplessness. The father of this baby was an international celebrity with so little bandwidth for normal human relationships, let alone parenthood. Would he even want to do this with you, or would he cut ties? Your relationship was a secret to all but a handful of people - nobody would have to know. He could leave you without a trace, and maybe that would be best. After all, if anyone found out that you two had been involved, you would lose your job.

"Y/N," Doctor Baek got your attention again, "Remember, one second at a time. I can see that this is a shock for you."

"Yes, it is." You replied distantly.

"May I ask if the father is known or supportive?"

You closed your eyes and angled your chin downward, letting out a breath through your nose.

The doctor felt for you, "It's going to be alright. Why don't we send you home with some informational pamphlets about different resources? Take a few days to think about the options. If you decide to move forward with the pregnancy, I'd like to book you for an ultrasound within the next few weeks to get the due date and make sure things look healthy."

"O-Okay."

You got dressed back into your work clothes, feeling like a completely different person wearing them. On your way out, you were given the pamphlets. Then, you started a dazed walk back to your car.

You drove away from the medical campus without a sense of direction. You simply let habit take over, and it took you to the same place you wound up every Friday night.

Not knowing if he'd even be home, you parked in the guest lot and went in anyway. You used the spare key card he'd given you to make it into his building and took the elevator up to the apartment.

One thing you appreciated about this living community was that it was extremely private. There were other idols and otherwise confidential people living there who minded their own business.

Once you reached the right floor, you felt a huge knot tie around your ribcage, suffocating you. It was as if you didn't notice where your feet were taking you - it was just second nature. But now here you were, at the door of Jimin's place.

You had to at least tell him.

Taking a breath, you summoned enough courage to knock on the door. No response. You tried again and, almost to your regret, it opened.

Jimin seemed glad yet confused to see you, taking his earbuds out of his ears, "Sorry, I didn't hear you at first. Come in."

The cheeky, handsome smile he was wearing would have melted you on any other day, but you couldn't entertain it right now. He noticed the frozen look on your face - you didn't even greet him back as you went through the doorframe. Jimin closed the door and turned to you, but you weren't facing him. Instead, you were roaming into the living room.

"Y/N? What's up with you?" he asked, "You seem lost."

You dropped your work bag onto the floor and plopped down onto one of the sofas, staring ahead with disorientation written all over your face. Subconsciously, you kicked off your heels.

Then he remembered that you had just been to the doctor, and his concern elevated, "Did everything go alright at your appointment?"

You closed your eyes and shook your head, gulping. When you finally met his gaze, you were holding back tears, "I went to see my gynecologist today to get an IUD put in."

He nodded and sat next to you, making sure that his body was facing yours head-on. Somewhere in his brain was a faint memory of you talking to him about that before, that you wanted to stop the pill and switch to something else, "Okay...So what's wrong? Oh, is it the cramping? I've heard that the procedure can cause bad cramps for a few hours after."

"It can," you said, "But that's not what's happening. In fact, they didn't even do the procedure."

You knew you were leaving him in suspense, but it wasn't intentional. You simply couldn't get the words out, for the fear of upending everything.

Jimin craned his neck forward in an attempt to follow your averting eyes, "Why?"

A tear rolled down your cheek, "Because they couldn't, Jimin. Before going through with it, I was asked all these questions. A-And I answered them all truthfully. I told the doctor that there had been recent unprotected sex and she tested me. And..."

It was so far outside the realm of what he could have foreseen that he didn't get it, "And?"

You didn't say anything, but you looked back at his face. He could see your glistening, tear-filled eyes, and that's when the seed was planted.

His dark brown eyes widened as he realized what you were implying, but he didn't want to believe it, "Y/N, you're not..."

A small sob escaped you as your posture shrunk, "I am."

Now Jimin was the one that was frozen, lips parted slightly. This lasted for a few seconds before he got up from the sofa, running his hands over his face and back through his hair. His back was to you and you heard him mutter a cuss word or two.

When he turned back around, his features weren't quite as soft. He appeared disappointed, maybe even aggravated, "How could this happen? It was just that one time, and you said it couldn't happen that day."

You felt so small, "I-I don't know. I really thought it wasn't possible but evidently, I was wrong. I'm sorry."

He put a hand over his eyes again and let out an anxious huff. Then his hand slid down to his nose, pinching its bridge. The brows that sat above were furrowed, "It doesn't matter anyway. It's not like this is all on you. We both should have known better."

You cleared your throat and wiped away your tears. This had to be an adult conversation, "So what should we do?"

"I don't know," he said, "What do you want to do?"

As emotionally spent as you were, you still had room to protest, "If this isn't all on me, then please don't make this entirely my decision. I can't handle that kind of pressure right now. This is my body, but it's our...our child."

Our child.

Those two simple words struck a cord somewhere inside Jimin. He felt them deep down. It wasn't at all what he planned, and he had no idea how it would work, but maybe it would be alright.

Jimin returned to your side. He brought you into his arms and you accepted the comfort. His lips planted a kiss on your head, "If it's what you want, I'll be there for you. I think we could do it, baby."

You pulled apart from him, "W-What?"

He cupped your cheeks gently and offered a small smile, "Maybe I'm just exhausted from today's work and I'm not thinking straight, but I feel like we could do it. Don't you? I have more than enough resources, and I've built enough rapport with the company that I'm sure I could take off more days."

You were shaking your head, removing his hands from your face and holding them in your lap, "Jimin, think about it. Having a baby doesn't just require money and time. I mean, think about what it would do to your career as a whole, your entire future. Besides, it would mean you and I would be involved with each other forever. We haven't even figured out what we are yet."

"I think we've figured out that we are something pretty damn good," he leaned down to kiss both of your hands, holding your wrists with a loose grip, "Y/N, I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. All I'm saying is I believe that this, our relationship, is strong enough. I'm terrified too, but when I think about doing it with you, it just makes a little more sense."

You got up and began to pace, "I appreciate that you're trying to be optimistic, but there are real obstacles here. You can't have a secret relationship and a secret child. If we do this, we have to tell the company at some point. I mean, I guess I could lie about who the father is for as long as I can, but what would happen after the baby gets here? Would we keep up the act even then?"

Jimin sat with his elbows propped on his knees and thought about it for a moment, "I understand why you're worried, but I still think we can figure it out. There are lots of celebrities nowadays who don't disclose publicly about their children until after they're born. That gives us plenty of time to plan out an announcement of some sort with the company."

"And even if we did that," you let out a defeated sigh, "I would get fired."

His face fell. That policy never seemed so vapid. He knew how much you loved your job, and how good you were at it, "Maybe there's a loophole somewhere. Or maybe I could persuade them against that."

You sort of laughed at the insanity of it all, "If we were both idols maybe they'd be more willing to bend the rules. They wouldn't denigrate the standard for just another employee, and I have a feeling they'd be pissed. This isn't just an employee dating another employee, Jimin. It's one of their biggest stars with a stylist. That carries scandal with it, especially when you add a pregnancy."

Both of you were silent now. The full weight of the circumstances sank down into your bodies. Jimin rose from his seat, "I need some water. Would you like anything?"

You shrugged, "Water would be good."

As he took his leave to head into the kitchen, you huffed and removed your jacket. Hanging it over the back of his chaise lounge, you glanced at your work tote. Visible from the opening was the tip of one of those pamphlets Doctor Baek gave you.

Lazily, you went and sat back down at your original spot on the sofa, picking up the paper tri-fold between your fingers. It was a general overview of the stages of fetal development, week by week. Opening it, you searched for the five-week mark. It said that at this time, the fetus was just starting to develop a face, heart, brain, and spinal cord.

It was wild to you that your body had been at work all that time without you knowing, slowly building a new person.

You scanned the rest of the pamphlet quickly. If you read it all, you'd be overwhelmed by all the information. On the back cover, there was a photo of a happy couple, both with their hands resting on the woman's belly. When you imagined that being you and Jimin, your heart fluttered. If only neither of you had these careers, you would probably want to go for it.

That's when you started to feel contradicted. You realized you weren't opposed to having a child with this man - your conflict was with outside influences that neither of you could control.

Jimin returned with two glasses of water. His gait slowed when he noticed that you were preoccupied with reading, curious to know what the paper in your hand was.

"Thanks." You said as you took one of the glasses.

"Of course," he replied, though his focus was clearly on the pamphlet, "What's that?"

You gave it to him, "The doctor gave it to me. Just some little thing about pregnancy."

"Ah." He muttered, taking a sip of his water. You scooted over so he could sit next to you again. Then he set the glass down on the coffee table and looked at the material, "Where do you fall on this timeline?"

"Oh," you inched even closer, leaning over the paper to point it out to him, "Right here. Five weeks."

Jimin read the short sentences about that stage and cracked a half smile, which evolved into a chuckle, "It says the baby is the size of a sesame seed."

You couldn't understand him, but for some reason his grin was rubbing off on you, "Why is that so funny?"

His joviality didn't let up, "It's not really, it's just...we eat sesame seeds all the time. It's weird to think that we all start out that tiny."

You concurred, smile growing further, "I guess that is pretty weird."

His collected demeanor eased your nerves, and you started to let it sink in. Your heart gravitated to him more with every moment you had spent with him. He'd be a loving father, there was no doubt about that. There was still the issue of your job being on the line, and a slew of other problems that could arise, but perhaps he was right. Maybe you could do this.

You searched his face again to try to get a read on how he was feeling, but he was too busy soaking in all the information in front of him. Clearing your throat, you pointed to the six-week mark, "Next week it will be a pomegranate seed, see?"

Jimin's eyes found yours, puzzled at your more relaxed cadence. When he saw a certain degree of acceptance in your features, he grinned again, taking your hand in his. Then he went back to the pamphlet, "And look, seven weeks is a grape. There seems to be a pattern of food comparisons."

You giggled, "All the way up to forty weeks, the size of a pumpkin."

He laughed too, his genial presentation fading back into a gentle smile shortly after, "I...I want to do this."

Your gut was pulling you in the same direction now. You needed to hear him say it again, perhaps so that you felt confident enough to voice your agreement, "You do?"

The culmination of his feelings for you and the situation finally made it all so clear. It was the right moment.

"I love you, Y/N."

Your chest thumped, eyes getting rounder, "W-What?"

Neither of you had said it yet, for the mutual trepidation that to be too seriously involved would lead to a mess. But to hell with it - the mess was already here.

Jimin's eyes were beaming, "You walked into the studio that one day and I haven't been the same since. You and I have been so concerned with people finding out about us, and I think it made me forget that it's okay to acknowledge my real feelings for you. It's clear to me now that I've been in love with you for months. I mean, this can't be a big surprise, can it?"

You were smiling through tears, "No, it's not a surprise. I just got so comfortable going the way we were that I let go of the expectation to hear it. But I love you too, Jimin."

He pulled you in for a sweet, long kiss. This moment was something you didn't know you wanted, but you welcomed it as if you'd been starving for it. Finally, some clarity on where you both stood - Park Jimin loved you, and you loved him.

You both drew apart, his right hand falling from your chin to your hip. This wasn't out of the ordinary, for him to casually touch you there, but this time he looked down at his hand. He moved it a few inches to the left, right over your lower abdomen. There was no bump to be seen, but his child was still there, the size of a sesame seed.

His voice sounded so sincere, "And I always knew I wanted a family at some point down the line. Sitting here right now, I couldn't picture it with anyone but you."

A twinkle brightened your face, "Neither could I."

His returned smile reached his eyes, "Does that mean we're going to have a baby?"

You nodded in utter disbelief of yourself, "We're going to have a baby."

A chuckle escaped him as his head dipped down, the grin on his face widening, "Oh my God, I'm going to be a dad."

The assurance brought to you by this small glimmer of excitement made all the difference. You were going to be a parent with the man who made you happier than anyone in the world. You were going to be a little family. Any strife and worries could be dealt with tomorrow. For tonight, you could simply be present with him and focus on the good.

[injvns]

nerf this! - a lee haechan smau

── profiles 1 - the mane six

yn ln has been fighting and clawing to get verified for about 3 months now. streamer mainly, works at a thrift store with jisung part time. while she isn't cursing elon, you can find her streaming games with her friends (mostly overwatch), binging my little pony, or scamming 8 years on adopt me with jisung, but that one stays between them.

ryujin would be the token gay friend if they weren't all a little (lot) gay. agent 1 of yn's secret service + roomate #1. she's been bombarding elon with emails alongside yn and will not stop until they win the war. ryujin's streams usually consist of her shitting on incels in cod, but every once and a while you can find her playing overwatch with yn after a long day. (she's a widowmaker main)

one might be wondering how baddie zhang hao ended up being friends with these unfortunately hot losers, he doesn't know either. agent 2 of yn's secret service + roommate #2. hao's an amazing person, not even to mention amazing friend, but yn is not ashamed to admit even if he sucked she would keep him around just because of how much pr he receives. he's also the only friend that will still watch rewatch mlp with her for the 87th time.

despite not living with her, yangyang is yn's first best friend. they've been by each other's side since elementary school. he was there when she learned to tie her shoes, he was her first kiss, and he was there when she made the jump and dropped out of college to finally pursue streaming. this does not mean they won't gauge each other's eyes out over which villager in animal crossing is cutest.

renjun is yn's second best friend. renjun is also the only one with a respectable job. he is currently serving his residency at a nearby hospital and he hates (loves) it. renjun met yn and yangyang in 4th grade, helping bring yn to the nurses after a shitty jump off the swings. they clicked immediately. he brings balance to them, his mellow being contagious. barely goes out with the group anymore, but yn will always find time to bring the group to him. he's honestly yn's hero. if yn thanks him for anything, he always waxes that 'you being an idiot led me to my dream job, so don't worry about it, okay?'

jisung is well….jisung. he works at a thrift shop down the road from yn's apartment. they met one day when ryujin and her decided to check it out. it was like out of a movie, she locked eyes with jisung and his ridiculously bleached beyond repair hair and fireworks went off in her brain. he was perpetually shy when they first spoke and could barely make conversation but yn just kept coming back until she was basically just hanging out with him his entire shift. it's been about a year and a half now since they met & she has fully indoctrinated him into the friend group.

+ the privs!

mastlerlist - profiles 2

notes: :P

taglist: @sibwol

[diorsluv]

infrunami (lh⁴³)

❝ in which you’ve always been in love with your childhood best friend, but he would always be the right person at the wrong time ❞

wc: 5.8k

warnings: god there’s so much angst, reader is kinda inconsistent, mentions of blood/injury, mutual pining, idiots in love, running away from “rejection”, reader is touchy with jack and besties with quinn, no use of y/n, if i missed any lmk!!

notes ) when i tell you this took me WEEKS and WEEKS just to compile a simple 5k fic.. i think it’s kinda obvious where i stopped and started back up but i tried to blend it in as best i could!! this will be a two parter simply because i was draining myself trying to drag it on, so stay tuned (might take a while)! AND LAST BUT NOT LEAST thank you to my wonderful, amazing, supportive wife @dior-roses for beta reading this (i was terrified)

As a kid, you always moved wherever the Hughes moved—it was something about the bond between your fathers that couldn’t keep your families apart for more than a week. Regardless of how many times you moved, you never felt alone. You and Luke were in the same grade, and Quinn and Jack were always looking out for you two, so isolation was never a concern for you.

Although you were inseparable with Luke, Quinn had always been your best friend. The four-year age difference between the two of you was almost invisible, and throughout your youth, you would always find yourself in his room, staring at the ceiling as you talked about everything. 

You would tell him about your silly school girl crushes, and he would ramble to you about hockey and all the petty drama that happened around him. In fact, he was the reason you learned hockey in the first place. Your father could never keep your attention on the sport for over five minutes, but the way Quinn talked about it so lovingly was what motivated you to step on the ice. 

Your love for hockey spurred your relationship with not only Quinn, but also Luke and Jack, to grow closer than ever. Every day in school, you and Luke would gush about the games you had watched the night prior, and every day after school, all four of you would head off to practice for your respective club teams. If you weren’t already inseparable from the way your families were bound together by an invisible rope, then you were forever connected through hockey. 

You quit after a few years to pursue more academic routes, but the sport never left your spirit. There were many occasions where the boys would refuse to play if you weren’t there, simply because your presence was the only thing to motivate them to get on the ice, especially if they were having a bad week.

Somehow, though, along the way, you caught feelings. Feelings that were far too heavy to have just surfaced from the depths of your heart. No, what you felt for Luke seemed to have always been creeping just between the line of what was certain and what was unknown. There was no other explanation as to why you couldn’t handle being in the same room as him without being on the verge of exploding. There was no other reason as to why you could spend months on end with either of his brothers but couldn’t last one minute sitting beside him. 

As soon as you came to that revelation, you were done for. It was over. You would rather die than acknowledge the feelings you caught for the boy that had been by your side since you were born. Because of that, you spent all your time with your best friend and his younger brother, and both your families sensed the shift as soon as it happened.

Especially Luke.

Oh, the poor boy, his heart dropped into his stomach when he realized you were avoiding him. You held your breath every time he stepped into the same room as you, let alone when he tried to stand remotely close to you. You diverted your attention away from him as much as you could, and the boy you once knew as your other half now seemed to be universes away. 

It was your doing, but in a way, it was his. How dare he make you fall for him? It wasn’t fair. Not to you, and definitely not to him. It wasn’t fair how he could make you fold in seconds with the way he looked at you from the other side of the room but simultaneously have a girl wrapped around his arm trying to take all his attention away from you. He was the only boy on your mind, but he always managed to push you to the darkest parts of his brain, putting you on hold when the more important girls were right in front of him. 

If only you knew. 

Quinn bounded down the stairs of your lake house, which was conveniently right next to the Hughes’, with an old framed photo in his hand. “Hah! I was right!” His exclamations took your attention away from the pasta you were cooking as you now turned to his self-righteous figure. “You would never let go of that stupid plushie.”

The two of you were arguing over what (and who) you were and were not inseparable with just prior to his search for the picture, and he claimed there were multiple photos of you hugging your favorite Elmo plushie. There was a mutual agreement that Luke was one of the things—or rather, people—you couldn’t fathom to be away from, but neither you nor Quinn had to verbally confirm it. There was no need. 

And, to be completely honest, Quinn had barely spoken about his youngest brother throughout the time you’d been spending at the lake houses. A few years back, you had reluctantly told him how you felt about Luke, and ever since then, he’d made it his mission to make you feel the most comfortable you could possibly be whilst sharing a connected lake house with the boy you’ve loved since you were children. The eldest saw the way you tensed up when you recognized his brother’s footsteps creaking down the stairs when it came time to eat breakfast, and he sure as hell saw the way your eyes blew wide whenever you accidentally made contact with him. 

It scared you how much Quinn seemed to notice about you, especially since he and his brothers were all busy with their demanding careers that left little to no time to be tending to some childhood friend who was stuck with a crush on the most recently debuted boy. Yes, he was still your best friend (that much hadn’t changed since your childhood), but all you could do was FaceTime each other, and even then, it was difficult to find time. It was the same with Jack; sometimes, they would be too tired for practice; other times, they would be exhausted from a home game and possibly frustrated had they lost; and most of the time, they weren’t even home, so the time difference, albeit miniscule, was still difficult to navigate considering you were a busy person too. 

That meant that you met up as much as you could and you stuck by each other’s side until you were forced apart by the demands of being a professional hockey player. All that time together when you were younger meant you struggled to be without each other as you got older—maybe your parents should’ve realized that, but then again, it was probably their intention. 

“Okay, I did let go of it. Multiple times, actually,” you refuted with a small frown, the expression on your face practically meaningless as your best friend laughed. It only egged him on further, evoking a complaint from your lips. “Quinn! It’s not funny!” 

“I mean, it kinda is.” He struggled to stifle his laughter as he rounded the kitchen island to stand beside you. Your hand mindlessly dragged the wooden spoon through the soft noodles floating around in the boiling hot water, and he wondered how your skin wasn’t burning. Gently removing your hand from the utensil and replacing it with his own, the eldest Hughes boy continued his teasing once he looked at your still-upset face. “You’re such a kid sometimes, you know that?”

Your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head in annoyance. Quinn always said that to you. Always. He never failed to address you as ‘kid,’ and no matter what you did, he always managed to bring it back to how you ‘were such a kid.’ You huffed, “You’re so fucking annoying, Quinny. I’m gonna go piss off Jack. Keep cooking, and if you burn the house down, you’re paying for all of it.” 

“You’re forgetting I’m a millionaire.” His laughter filled your ears once again, and your only response was the finger you lifted at him over your shoulder.

After walking out of the kitchen of your own lake house, you took a few strides over to the sliding doors that led to the connected portion of your two homes. Your father and Jim had built it together, way back when all four of you were far too young to understand what normal lake houses were supposed to look like. It was essentially a screened-in sunroom overlooking the absolute beauty of a lake out front. They managed to hook up a large, flat-screen television on the wall, throwing a couple bean bag chairs and a rug into the room. The rest of the furnishing was left completely up to you and the Hughes brothers, so the furniture would change up every few visits. 

Oftentimes, you would find Luke there, just sitting against the one wall that had a bit of a bump-out. He liked the way it felt against his back, like it actually supported him compared to the fluffy chairs that laid in the middle of the room. Whether he be on his phone, playing video games, or reading a book that was required for summer class, he would always be in the sunroom. The floor directly before the bump-out was much more worn compared to the rest of the room, the discolored wood showing just how often the youngest Hughes would find himself in the confines of the area.

There were many times when Luke would flee to the sunroom in his times of need, wanting to be alone with his thoughts. If anyone were to try to enter the room and speak to him, he wouldn’t respond. He would only ever talk to you. You were the one and only person to talk him out of his thoughts, the only one who could convince him to leave the room. Those nights were comprised of him refusing to leave your bed and whining if you got up in the middle of the night. 

You missed it. 

But you weren’t kids anymore. And, again, it was your fault you weren’t close anymore. You deliberately distanced yourself from him. 

After pulling yourself away from your own thoughts, you tugged the Hughes’ sliding door open, the smell of freshly grilled shrimp welcoming you into the cozy house.

“Hey, sweetie,” Ellen’s soothing voice called out to you, smiling at you from her place at the kitchen sink. “How’s the pasta going?” The sound of the running water could barely be heard over the hockey game playing on the television, your father entertaining Jim and his youngest son with light chirps towards the losing team. 

You could feel Luke’s eyes set on you. Shrugging, you replied, “I told Quinny to take over and not burn the house down.” 

This was a regular occurrence whenever you came back to the lake for the break. You, your mother and Ellen would split up the food duties so that there was a lot of food but didn’t take too much time to cook everything. Quinn and Jack would help out a bit, but they would only ever take on the physical tasks. Luke used to help out when you were children, but ever since the distance you wedged between the two of you, he stopped helping out as much. 

You looked around for Jack, trying your hardest to avoid Luke’s gaze in your search for his older brother. Ellen had now returned to her cooking, and the fathers were too invested in their conversation for you to intervene. Your eyes were darting everywhere but at your ex-best friend, and as soon as you made eye contact, you couldn’t look away.

It was too difficult.

It was so stupid.

It wasn’t fair. 

His hazel eyes were too pretty. The way he looked at you made it hard to deny him the satisfaction of giving him attention. He looked at you like you hung the stars and the moon, but you couldn’t see that. You were blinded by your abundance of self-deprecating thoughts to notice. 

“Hey,” he mumbled, voice being drowned out due to the other activities occurring throughout the house. You mouthed the same word back, fighting the urge to walk over to him and apologize for avoiding him, apologize for distancing yourself from the one person you know you could never live without. If you allowed yourself to break, you would never forgive yourself. He doesn’t like you back, you told yourself. You can’t embarrass yourself.

So, instead of going with your heart, you went with your brain and made your way upstairs. If Jack wasn’t downstairs, then he had to have been upstairs doing God knows what. 

“Jack?” You called out, running your hand along the railing of the staircase once you neared the top. 

“In here!” His muffled voice came through the door to his bedroom, and you’ve seen him in enough compromising positions to the point where you couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to be cautious. Once you opened the door, you were met with four gazes planted straight on you. You suddenly felt exposed despite your thick pajamas and only felt some sort of reassurance when you found Jack’s eyes. “Look who finally came up here!”

All four boys sat on Jack’s bed with controllers in their hands, the game on the TV now paused as their attention focused solely on you. You knew Trevor, Alex, and Cole, but you hadn’t seen them in so long that it felt awkward. “Oh, uh, hey. Quinn’s probably gonna burn my house down and I didn’t wanna be down there with Lukey, so,” you trailed off, pursing your lips. 

“You’re still on that?” Alex questioned with furrowed eyebrows, placing the controller in his lap. You cocked your head to the side, not quite understanding what the boy was talking about. He continued, “I thought you got over him, like, months ago.”

Right. You had forgotten all about your accidental drunk confession the last time Jack’s friends were over. Last summer, your revelation was fresh on your mind, and you and Luke were still as inseparable as ever. His friends had also visited the lake house at the same time everyone else was staying over, so it made for a ton of chaos and little to no privacy. 

Luke and his friends had left the house to go out, and for the first time, you stayed behind. Trevor and Cole were sitting at the fire pit outside, beers in their hands as they discussed the upcoming camps they were to attend. You were on your fifth drink, and although Jack was keeping an eye on you, he hadn’t noticed how you had accidentally walked into the bathroom while Alex was in the process of throwing up. 

In the midst of your tipsy daze and the fact that it just so happened to be Luke’s bathroom, you called out for him. “Luke? Is that you? You know I’m always telling you not to drink that much, stupid.” You used your foot to shut the door behind you as you placed your drink onto the counter. 

Alex, confused but sobering up, looked up at you with puffy eyes. Only then did he notice how you were much more than tipsy. 

Your gaze was blurry and your words were beginning to slur, “If I didn’t like you so much, maybe I would be more mad at you. I don’t know why I like you, anyway. You’re always being so stupid, ‘cause you can’t see that all those girls are only ever using you for your brother or your body. They’re so mean. And I’m your best friend, not them! You always ditch me when you find another girl, and then they say shit about me behind my back. I don’t like them. What do you even see in them? God, what do I even see in you?

“My stomach hurts. I think I’m thinking about this too much. Or maybe I’m thinking about you too much. I hate you so much, Lukey, but I can’t ever hate you. You’re too pretty. This is so unfair and my head is pounding. Oh, God, I’m gonna throw up. Move over.” After your little monologue, which was definitely not directed towards the person on the receiving end, you were quick to fall to the ground beside the toilet and dip your head past the ceramic seat. 

Alex brought his right hand up to flush the toilet so you didn’t accidentally stuff your face in a load of his vomit, using his other hand to rub soothing circles on your back. “‘m not Luke, but you’re safe with me.” He continued his motions throughout the five-minute duration of your illness, bringing his hand up to massage your head once you were sure you were done.

Your head was pounding and your ears began to ring, but you were visibly more sober compared to how you were a few minutes ago. Barely able to lift your head, you thanked your friend with a weak smile.

He only returned your expression and brought you up to your feet, leading you out of the restroom and towards Jack’s room. It obviously wasn’t the best option to bring you to Luke’s room, albeit being the default room after a long night, so his older brother’s bedroom would have to do. 

Alex laid you down onto the mattress and tucked you in, lightly patting your cheek as you thanked him once more. He only chuckled and squeezed your hand reassuringly, “Anytime.”

And then you were left alone in the confines of Jack’s room.

You chuckled awkwardly at the memory, shaking your head in response. “Nope. Still on it.” Your hands brought themselves up to your thighs, rubbing your palms against your thick pants in an attempt to wipe away the tension in the room.

Trevor and Cole were aware of your feelings as well; you were sure everyone in the house knew. They only shot you sympathetic smiles, their priorities set on finishing the NHL 23 game plastered all over the screen. 

“I’m sure you’ll get over it.”

“We believe in you.”

Their words, no offense, meant nothing to you. They were great people to hang around, but they weren’t the best guys to turn to when you were in a time of need, especially since you weren’t very close to them. They had their own issues that didn’t concern you, and your issues were ever so far from their minds.

After a few beats of silence, the mood of the room began to slowly eat away at you. If you were to open your mouth and bite down, you might as well have taken a chunk out of the thick tension lingering in the room. It was even more awkward knowing that Luke was much closer to them compared to you, and you knew they would let things slip eventually. 

Not that he didn’t already know, though.

The four boys exchanged glances with one another, shrugging in unison before resuming their gameplay. You took it as your cue to stay, seeing as they didn’t seem bothered by your presence, and you were much more comfortable in Jack’s room than you were downstairs. 

Allowing yourself to flop onto the boy’s soft mattress, you fished your phone out from the pocket of your pajama pants, finding solace in the way the friends laughed with each other. You remained like that for about twenty minutes before Jack beckoned you over to the edge of his bed, where he was sitting, to ask you for your opinion on something.

After dishing him your thoughts—which barely seemed to help him—you stayed snug at the foot of the bed, extending your legs out so that they lay atop his. It was one of your more typical positions when spending time with Jack whilst he was playing video games. Whether it be with his friends or with his brothers, you always found yourself comfortably overlapping your limbs with him, and today was no exception. 

You both shuffled around a bit until you found a comfortable position. You sat with your legs resting on his thighs and your head laying on his shoulder; he sat with his forearms resting on your left leg. The others paid no mind to your odd positioning, their minds too preoccupied with the competitiveness flooding through the screen. 

So you stayed like that for a while. For a long while, actually. You only lifted your head when the sound of light knocking echoed against Jack’s door once more, and soon after, you found his youngest brother cracking the door open and peeking through. 

His eyes had yet to land on your figure. “Hey, Mom’s looking for—”

Before he could utter your name, he looked you dead in the eye. 

“Oh.” He went silent for a few seconds, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. Him, of all people, should be the least surprised to see you cuddled up with Jack. “You.”

There was a certain poison in his tone that struck you right where it hurt the most. It was the way he spat through gritted teeth and looked at you with so much indifference. (It was really a façade, but you were too entranced under his gaze to realize that he could never bring himself to hate you.) The whole room seemed to shift uncomfortably with the way the tension flowed between you and Luke. 

No matter how hard you tried to mask your pain and your desperation for him to notice you, you would never be able to hide how you really felt. Not with him. 

“You can tell her I’ll be right down,” you murmured, slowly moving your legs from Jack’s lap, but before you could even finish your sentence, Luke disappeared as quickly as he came. When you looked back in the door frame, all you were met with was a blank wall and the faint image of where the boy stood before.

You could feel Jack lightly pat your thigh, trying his hardest to support you with the little attention he was diverting toward you. With a small sigh, you pushed yourself off the mattress and wiped your palms against the fabric of your pants, reluctantly leaving the room. Alex wished you good luck, but his fleeting words flew straight through one ear and out the other. 

Downstairs, the fathers were still loud as ever, and the sizzling in the kitchen now turned into the delicious aroma of freshly cooked lunch. Quinn’s voice echoed up the staircase, and you could hear how he attempted to entertain his mom as she waited for you to come back down. 

As soon as your feet hit the bottom floor, you could already sense Quinn’s eyes on you. He looked like he was being held hostage, and you could argue that he was begging you for help. He wasn’t the only Hughes boy with his gaze locked on you, but he was the only one you would give attention to.

“Oh, look! Just who you were looking for, Mom,” the eldest boy managed to divert the attention away from him and towards you. You scowled at him just before Ellen turned around, plastering on a smile as you walked towards them.

You gently placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “I was just up in Jack’s room. Luke said you were looking for me?”

“Oh, that’s right! Could you grab that fancy set of plates from the cabinet in your house, sweetie? It’s too high to reach for any of us parents, and you know Lukey and Quinn don’t help out with anything anymore,” Ellen spoke, evoking an argument from her oldest son. It only took one glare from her to shut him up, and you couldn’t help but giggle at his complacence. 

You nodded your head with a grin, still fighting more giggles as you swerved past Quinn. He lunged at you, bringing his hands up to your waist as if he was going to tickle you, but you managed to jump just out of his reach before continuing on your journey to grab the plates Ellen wanted. 

Once you made it back into your house, you dragged a chair up to the counter and climbed onto the cushioned seat, opening the cabinet and setting your gaze on the fake fine china. You only grabbed a few at a time, not wanting to break anything in fear of your mother getting mad at you. Eventually, you had gotten down to the last few plates, and once you had them in your hands, you closed the cabinet and stepped down from the chair.

Perhaps you should’ve been more aware of how high you were, because somehow, the bottom plate smashed against the countertop and shattered in your hands, causing you to let out a small scream. The porcelain had broken into small pieces, cutting into your palms, but you managed to place the reset of the plates down before beginning to worry about the amount of cuts you had on your hands. 

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath, looking at the floor to see how many shards were scattered around the floor. Your only form of protection on the soles of your feet were the fluffy socks you were wearing, and the distance between the pieces was far enough to where you could step past them. 

As soon as you deemed it safe to walk normally, you swiveled on your heel to analyze the messy situation you found yourself in. You definitely should have been more careful, and now you had to clean up all the small plate shards with cuts in your hands. Fuck, your hands were still bleeding, and it hadn’t even occurred to you that it was now dripping down your arms. 

All you could do was stand in place, shock still coursing in your veins. The sink on the island was in the middle of the plate murder, and you didn’t want to risk accidentally stepping on something sharp. Before you could even begin to make your way to the half-bath near the kitchen, you heard footsteps bounding through the sunroom. The glass door slid open far too aggressively—so much so that you thought it would shatter, too—and you assumed it was Quinn coming to check on you.

The plate breaking was loud enough to be heard from the other house, especially with the connected room, but you didn’t think it would be that big of a deal for him. You were usually trustworthy enough to not accidentally hurt yourself, but this was a prime example of how you really weren’t.

You didn’t want any questions to be asked, and because it was Quinn, you knew you would get made fun of before being helped. “Don’t worry—”

“Holy shit, are you okay?” The voice that spoke up was not Quinn. 

Immediately snapping your head around to look at the boy standing there, frozen, your frown contorted into a grimace. “Luke—shit—hey,” you trailed off, unsure of what to say to him. “Uh, yeah, I’m fine, I was just being stupid and—”

“What the fuck happened? You’re gonna bleed out if you don’t wash your hands and wrap them up.” His heavy footsteps inched closer and closer until he was standing right in front of you, taking your forearms into his calloused hands and inspecting how bad your injuries were. “C’mon, we gotta wash this off.” 

Luke led you to the bathroom as if it was his own house, running the tap and allowing the water to get most of the red liquid off your hands before taking a clean towel and gently tapping the rest off. 

He was unbearably gentle with you. You felt ashamed to think of how fast your heart was beating at such a simple gesture; as if him caring about you meant anything except the fact that growing up together meant you both cared for each other when someone was hurt. Sighing to hide your true feelings, you slowly took your hands away from his touch, “Luke, I’m fine. Really. You don’t have to do this.”

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean? Of course I’m going to clean you up if you hurt yourself.” He immediately took your hands back into his and resumed his actions, quickly grabbing ointment from the cabinet above the toilet. Squeezing out a dollop of the cream, he soothingly rubbed it against your wounds with a focused frown adorning his features.

You took the chance to admire him candidly. He was so worried about you, and it was so cute. He wouldn’t even let you take care of yourself because he wanted to do it for you, and he was so serious about it. You had always thought his focused face was adorable, even when you were kids, but as you grew up, it only got cuter and cuter. Fuck, you were so gone for him.

You hadn’t even realized you were staring until he looked up at you and immediately looked back down at your hands. He cleared his throat awkwardly and questioned, “Does it hurt?” 

“Hm?” You snapped yourself out of your trance, your face heating up with the unexpected eye contact. “Oh, uh, no. It doesn’t hurt.” The pain you were feeling came more from your heart than it did from your body. It hurt to be in such close proximity to the boy you longed so deeply for. The awkward silence floating between the two of you pained you even more. 

Luke nodded and rummaged through the drawers until he found gauze, taking great care to wrap it around your hands without causing you too much discomfort. When he finished, all he did was usher you out of the bathroom with a hand on your lower back, turning off the lights without so much as a word. 

Only when you entered the kitchen did a small mumble leave the boy’s lips. “Try to be more careful next time, okay? Can’t have you going around injuring yourself and shit, or you’re gonna make me—us worry too much.” He cleared his throat after his slip-up, hoping you didn’t hear what he said. You did. “Oh, and Jack told me to let you know the guys are throwing a party tonight. He said to invite you so you could buy cups and shit, but you’re kinda . . . banged up right now.”

“It’s fine. I’ll go grab stuff from the store later—”

“No!” Luke exclaimed, his eyes blowing wide once he realized how loud he protested your suggestion. “I mean, no, it’s okay. I’ll go get the stuff. You shouldn’t drive with your hands all cut up like that. They don't care who buys what.”

You blinked at him. He was acting so weird; it was almost like he cared about you. But it didn’t matter. The others were throwing a party, which meant there were going to be tons of girls all over him, and it wouldn’t be right for you to get mad if you were the one who caused the rift between you two.

With a shrug, you silently agreed to his proposal and turned to grab the remaining set of plates still sitting on the counter. You couldn’t even take two steps before Luke was already sliding ahead of you and taking the ceramic platters into his arms. “Luke, you really don’t have to do all of this. I’m fine, look,” you showed him your hands, front and back, to try and convince him to let you do something. 

“No, you’re hurt. And I wouldn’t be a good best friend if I made you injure yourself more.”

Best friend.

Two very opposing emotions coursed through your veins. On one hand, the term ‘best friend’ still sent a pang through your chest, knowing you would never be more to him than just a best friend. But on the other hand, it relieved you to know that he still considered you close enough to be his best friend. 

God, you were such a mess. You were running away from him in fear of rejection, but then you couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him. What the hell was wrong with you?

Eventually, the two of you made it back into his house, the boy announcing your arrival and placing the plates down onto the dining table. He immediately found his spot back on the couch in between the fathers like before, and you instantly got hounded by both the mothers’ questions being launched at you all at once.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you grimaced. You attempted to pull your hands away from her inspecting gaze, but she brought them right back to her face. “Mom, it doesn’t even hurt anymore! Lukey already put medicine on it and wrapped them up, anyway!” You were growing impatient, and your complaints slowly turned into whines. 

Thankfully, as soon as she heard Luke’s nickname leave your mouth, she dropped your hands back to your sides and grinned widely at you.

“Well, then! I’m sure you’re just fine, aren’t you?”

You sighed begrudgingly. “Yes, Mom.” You were just happy she stopped nagging you.

What you didn’t know was that she and Ellen were in pain watching their two children stay so far away from each other for such a long time. The parents always thought you two would have confessed by the time you graduated high school, but you were in college and Luke was having an amazing rookie season. It clearly didn’t work out the way they thought it would have.

You also didn’t know that Luke’s heart practically exploded out of his chest when he heard you use his nickname so nonchalantly. He always overheard you addressing him as Lukey to his brothers, but you never did it when you knew he was listening. It was almost as if saying it made your mouth run dry. 

And it did.

It finally came time to eat lunch, and your stomach was threatening to growl before you all sat down at the table. Trevor, Alex, and Cole decided to eat at a restaurant instead, encouraging Jack to eat with your families rather than hanging out with them. So he stayed.

There was a specific order in which you sat. There were five members of the Hughes family and three members of your family, meaning there were eight seats total; the rectangular table fit the usual number of people perfectly. The fathers would sit on either end of the table, and the mothers would sit to their right. You and Jack sat next to your mothers, while Luke sat beside you and Quinn beside Jack. 

It was a routine. It never changed. Ever.

Not when Jack kissed you on New Years. He still had to sit opposite to you at the table. Not when you and Luke had the biggest verbal fight in your life, leaving you both with scars on your knees. And especially not when you finally recognized the feelings you had for your best friend.

And as you sat in your spot, with Luke’s thigh pressed against yours, you realized that maybe loving him wasn’t all that bad.

— diorsluv 2024

[kafka-ish]

part 1

Patrick asks Art if he got the stuff and how much to which Art replies: yea just an 8th tho and Patrick replies Dude wtf

No dude. You never told me your dealer was hot!!!

Don’t bother. Asked if she’d trade head for half. Wouldn’t budge. Strict business or whatever.

Two seconds later: Still. I’d tap that.

Art decides against telling him about the sample he got. Sticks the joint you rolled in his desk drawer. Does weed have an expiration date? he wonders. He drops by Patrick’s who asks how the deal went. If you gave him a discount for it being his first time and all.

“How much’d she charge?” Patrick wonders aloud, comparing prices in his head, secretly hoping his friend got ripped off.

It takes Art awhile to settle on a number. He still doesn’t know the price of weed. “Like fifty?”

“For an eighth?” Patrick laughs at this like okay this chick is insane and Art realizes he said the wrong thing.

“She said it was the good stuff.” Art shrugs, trying to play it off.

“Whatever man, but you need to learn how to negotiate… So we gonna smoke this shit or what?”

Art begins to make appearances more frequently. But he has to be calculated with how he goes about this. Doesn’t want to seem desperate, hooked on fucking weed. How pathetic. He has to pace himself. At first his visits are periodic. Comes by a few times a month for his regular pick up. But he can’t get enough. Sporadic turns into every other week and every other week turns into Friday nights after his games or if not a tournament, practice. He’s at your door with takeout in hand. Something different every time; he keeps you on your feet and you like the surprise. Tacos, Thai, Lo Mien. Indian when he wins his matches.

You don’t smoke with him at first when he asks, though; you have a rule about smoking up with clients.

“Oh,” he says, feeling defeated. Disappointed that’s how you think of him.

“You still want that eighth?” you ask.

“Um, no. Actually I think I’m gonna go.”

“Art,” you say and the sound of your voice calling his name has him frozen in place. His hand is still on the knob for a moment before it drops, falls by his side. He wipes it on his pants, a habit he has. "Don't do this."

"What? Change my mind?"

"No--"

"You're not trying to peer pressure me, are you?" You wonder if Art's being serious right now. If he's using your methodology of paying tuition and groceries against you. It's your turn to freeze.

"Fine then. Leave. But just so you know I wasn't the one hitting up strangers for weed." You're calm when you say this, only making it harder for Art to reach for the door once more.

Of course, he comes crawling back. Ends up blowing up your phone.

Art: Hey

Art: I'm sorry for what i said the other day. I wasn't thinking. Obviously. It just hurt when u called me a customer. Which i guess i technically am. I dont kno.

Art: I think ur really cool

Art: I guess i just wanted to smoke with someone other than patrick

Art: Did i mention i think ur really cool

You roll your eyes at the thread of messages, how they still come in and your phone can't stop vibrating; you're not finished reading but it keeps pinging. Still, you're smiling. Can't help but read his texts over and over again before responding and you feel a heat on your cheeks when you haven't even lit up.

You text him the same thing when he always texts you after one of his games: My place 9?

"You think I'm cool, huh?" You nudge Art, sitting next to you on the couch. His legs are crossed, facing yours.

Art blushes at the question, the pressure you put him under. Finally musters up the courage to say, “yeah. Really cool.” Then leans in, does that thing that guys do where they grab your jaw, almost caresses it, then brings you in to kiss your lips. It’s soft. Gentle. Thinks he might hurt you if he’s not careful. And he doesn’t linger long but you can taste his chapstick. Mint. You miss him already when his lips leave yours and your tongue sweeps over where flesh once was, itching for another taste.

He sees this. Locks his lips on yours again. Instinct. It's just as quick and sweet as the first one. You feel him grin when his mouth meshes with yours and the sensation of his smile pressing into your cheeks gets you all giddy-like.

“So does that mean you’ll smoke with me?” His smile doesn’t leave when you pull away. And you see his eyebrows are raised while his eyes are blue and bright. A dash of hope shimmers in them and you can see your reflection in them.

“Yeah,” you say, hushed, almost a whisper as if you can’t bring yourself to say it out loud. You’re breaking your rules for him, is what Art’s thinking. And you tell yourself it’s just a one time exception but when he comes over next Friday you find yourself rolling a joint and passing it to him in between kisses.

And now it’s your routine.

He doesn’t need to text you asking for an eighth and you don’t need to tell him what time and place. He just shows up after practice. Of course, you expect him.

“I hope I didn’t get you addicted.”

“Nah.” Art’s lean frame is already hanging on the doorway and he doesn’t come inside immediately when you welcome him in. Instead, he takes you in his arms. They feel stronger each time. Plants a big wet kiss on your lips. And he is addicted. Just not what you think.

[sh1-n0bu]

hello! sorry if this kind of an obscure request but could i request scara with s/o reader that’s a shut in/only leaves the house once or twice a month? reader isn’t depressed or anything, just antisocial and prefers hanging out inside all day. i think scara would be great company and would really benefit from the chance to come over after a long day and decompress while playing video games with reader <33

✿ 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 ✿

characters: scaramouche x nb!reader

warnings: fluff, a bit of  crack, light angst, scara being worried and actually showing emotions and freely expressing them🙀, modern au❗️

notes: being an introvert who has to be forcefully dragged outside, felt. 'm sorry for the late response anon😔 this one might be a tad bit shorter than my other sfw works.

sometimes, the bowl cut haired young man just can't help but be incredibly worried for his partner. they barely go out of their shared apartment unless it's absolutely necessary, most of the time they keep their blinds shut, they barely interact with anyone unless it's the weekly calls with close friends and family and the monthly hanging out with their little group of friends.

yep, he's concerned.

during their years of dating and living together, he never really saw any "ticks". anything that would indicate they're depressed, suicidal, tired of the world or him. yet he keeps getting more and more concerned but also relieved when daily checking the medicine cabinet and the little stash of sharp small objects.

if they're not feeling down in the dumps, then why are they always staying inside? do they not get tired of constantly seeing the same place, colored walls, decorations and the same boring, mundane shows and movies over and over again? if scaramouche was in his lover’s position he would’ve went mad a long time ago.

don’t get the short, young man wrong! he enjoys his own personal time and space as well! a bit too much to be exact but he also enjoys going out and getting a fresh breath of air, a scenery change alongside a nice midnight walk.

the kind of slow steps, stop by every minute or two to watch the quieting city life type of midnight walk.

the kind of walk that you could drop by the little corner supermarket run by the nice lady and her husband alongside their young, delivery man and buy a few snacks of your taste with an additional ones for your lover.

the kind of walk which you just breathe in all of the sweetness, the crispy smell of the midnight food vendor, hear the chiming of bells of the cat cafe closing in for the night which is right down the streets.

the kind of walk that makes you feel alive.

that’s it! scaramouche has had enough! he will go home, sit down his lovely darling and talk things out because he’s pretty sure that some strands of his hair is starting to whiten from overthinking!

oh wait, he always had a few strands of a lighter shade of hair at the back of his head- but this was not the point!

after fumbling with his keys and the many cute and adorable little knitted key charms gifted to him by his darling dearest, the young man finally opened the door to their shared apartment and announced his arrival. letting out a soft grunt followed by a chuckle and a short lived smooch! he took off his coat, half-heartedly hanging it inside the closet before gently grasping his lovers’ hand and leading themselves to sit on the kitchen table, ignoring the hungry wails of his stomach.

“i have been thinking about this for a very long time [name] and i don’t want you to take this in the wrong way.” taking in a deep breath to calm his nerves and anticipation for the answer that would slip out of his darling’s lips, scaramouche looked straight back at them with a quivering look. “are you okay?”

“yes? i‘m not laying in bed, groaning about wanting to get better or whining about the taste of medicine aren’t i dear?” letting out a low laugh, his partner took his hand in theirs. easily enveloping his smaller hands in theirs all the while rubbing slow circles into his skin, lightly digging into the pale skin to ease his nervousness.

they understood. they understood everything.

why he was worried, why his voice had the faintest bits of cracks when he asked that question, why his eyes were quivering, why his hands which were cradled in theirs was shaking slightly.

perhaps it was a bit of a fault on their side for never telling scaramouche of their greatly introverted self and habits. perhaps it was because they never truly got into too much personal or serious conversations.

bringing his still trembling, pale hands up to their lips [name] left a gentle kiss on his knuckle. trailing the kiss over his visible bones and onto his other hand, hearing the male let out a sigh of what seems to be relief.

“‘m sorry for not exactly explaining to you how much i enjoy spending my time inside, dear. i didn’t meant to scare you in any sort of way. promise.” leaving one final kiss on the knuckle of his left hand’s pinky, you raised your head up to look at him once again.

when your eyes met, the misty blue eyed man let out another sigh before pulling your hands up to his lips to return the sweet gesture. carefully, gently and almost shyly leaving a trail of butterfly kisses over your knuckles, leaving you with flushed cheeks and equally flushed lover.

“i-it’s alright. you don’t have to apologize” the male finished the small act of intimacy, lowering down your hands to rest on his lap, still continuing to hold your hands in his own.

“just... let me know if anything ever goes wrong or feels bad. i don’t want you to carry heavy burdens all alone by yourself, darling.” looking up back at you through his bangs with an equally pink cheeks, scaramouche leaned over with a faux anger to kiss you when you giggled at his embarrassment.

ah, he was hopelessly in love with you...

[kooktrash]

Hello hello, how are you doing? If it's okay, I would like to request for the "between roommates" couple, please. I wanted a fluff and maybe domestic scenario with them being happy and cute together. Thank you in advance. =)

this is one of my newer requests sent in but I missed BR!couple soo I made this. thx for sending in request <3

Between Roommates | Jeon Jungkook

warnings: none, just domestic boyfriend!JK. 1.4K words

“So here’s what I’m thinking, I’ll book the Air BnB tonight since we’re already doing things last minute,” Namjoon said to you after a lecture. The two of you were too focused on your talk to notice when your boyfriend of two months came up behind you. All he heard was when Namjoon told you he’d text you and it had him sweeping in.

“Joon hyung, I’ve got my eyes on you,” Jungkook said only half jokingly as he swung an arm over your shoulders dragging you into his side. Jungkook didn’t actually care if you talked to Namjoon stil, since you were all friends, but he did like to joke about it. Sure, sometimes he does get a little—just a little—nervous but he knows your feelings for him are strong. Namjoon knew it was all in fun too so he just gave a cheeky smile, “Whatever, I’ll see you guys later.”

“Are you done already?” You asked once you and Jungkook were walking to the parking lot already, matching backpacks and strides. He nodded, “Class canceled so I'm gonna hop on a match with Tae.”

“Boring,” you said, waving the thought away as you got in his car. The entire drive he kept his hand on your thigh like usual, music playing in the background as you went over things that happened today. When you got to your shared apartment, you retreated to your room while Jungkook ran to his bedroom to power on his monitors and PC.

Despite dating, you still kept your private spaces apart. It didn’t mean that Jungkook wouldn’t hop in your bed every night but this way you both still had a space for all of your belongings. Jungkook kept his gaming things in his bedroom to not bother you, and you had all your things in your own room. Maybe it was because you had lived together for so long as just roommates, you didn’t feel the need to constantly be around each other at home. You kept up with your usual routines except now he can sit you on the kitchen counter and kiss you whenever he wants to.

You changed into your home clothes before doing some homework that you had procrastinated on.

It was about two hours later when Jungkook had gotten tired of playing. He was still online with Taehyung and Yoongi when he heard your commotion in the kitchen. He stopped mid-sentence to listen in on what you might be doing.

“Jungkook, I’m cornered, pay attention,” Taehyung said through his headset but Jungkook just shushed him, “I’m trying to hear what Y/n’s doing.”

He could hear you laugh, talking out loud, probably on the phone and it made him curious. He tried refocusing on the game again but then he heard the clanking of pans and he was pausing the entire game, “Alright, I’ve gotta go.”

“What?” Yoongi asked, “Why?”

“Y/n’s making dinner.” He gave no room for debate as he exited the game and dropped his headset on his chair. He rushed out of his bedroom, “Wait! I’m coming!”

Jungkook slid across the wooden floor in his socks as he nearly crashed into you in the kitchen. You looked up at him, “Are you done gaming?”

“Yeah, I’ll do dinner,” Jungkook said as you stood by the sink filling a pot with water. Your brows furrowed, “It’s fine, I’m just hungry a little early today.”

He bumped his hips into yours nearly sending you flying and it made him smirk in mischief as he took the pot, “You did chores this morning, I’ve got dinner. You go sit in the living room and look cute for me.”

“Just cute?” You asked with a laugh as you did as told, leaving to the sofa and grabbing the remote control, “And here I thought you found me hot.”

“You are hot, smoking caliente hot, but you’re just so cute,” he cooed as he made a motion as if to pinch your cheeks but you were all the way in the living room now. He could see you through the wall opening above the sink and he loved the view. You flicked through Netflix shows as you said, “I left your laundry on your bed, did you even see it?”

He stopped in thought, watching the flame heat up the pot as he turned back to the counter to dice up some vegetables. He hadn’t seen it yet, he was too busy running to play Overwatch. He smiled at the thought of you folding his laundry. This is what he meant when he said you’re just so cute.

Before when you were just roommates, you obviously did things on your own but now everything was different. You always had the same apartment, same P.O. Box and parking spot, that hasn’t changed. What changed was your shared clothes in the hamper, same grocery trips, same bed to sleep in. You wore his shirts now and he stole your socks—sometimes wearing bright Monster High socks that he stole from you inside his black shoes. You did the cleaning and he cooked the meals, it was all very homey.

“I’ll put it away when I’m done,” he finally said, “Thank you, baby.”

He looked over at you again, catching you engrossed in your phone, “Who you talking to?”

“Huh? Nobody,” you said even as you texted away. Jungkook’s brows scrunched together watching your fingers tap against your screen. He let the topic go as he finished up with dinner while you watched tv. It didn’t take long for the food to be ready and he carried your plates to the dining table calling you over.

You set your phone facing down and he looked over at it. When it buzzed with a new notification, you ignored it now that he was close and it made him a little sad. You’re acting strange today.

“So what were you and Joon talking about earlier?” Jungkook asked as he served your plate for you. You shrugged, “Nothing exciting, just class.”

He visibly pouted, “Have you been texting him all afternoon, while your poor boyfriend works away making dinner?”

You chuckled, “You volunteered.”

He released a loud gasp, “So you don’t deny! You’ve been texting him this whole night? I can’t believe you’re cheating on me.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you rolled your eyes with a smile as he pretended to cry dramatically. He ignored you, weeping louder and more annoying, “Not until you tell me what you’ve been talking about.”

“Fine, come here,” you leaned toward him as he moved closer to you. You pressed a hand to your mouth as you whispered, “It’s a secret.”

He whined, fake crying even louder, “Tell me!” You groaned, “I can’t, it’s a surprise.”

“A surprise?” He perked up, stuffing his face with noodles, “What kind of surprise? Is it for me?”

You didn’t say anything, choosing instead to eat quietly. He nudged your elbow with his as it sat on the table, “Y/n.”

You didn’t respond.

“Y/n.”

“Y/n.”

“Baby, tell me the surprise. I won’t spoil it.”

“Y/n!” He whined but you just smirked.

“I can’t,” you said but he was relentless the entire meal.

In the end you couldn’t handle it anymore and you ended up blurting out, “We’re planning a trip for your birthday!”

You both gasped, one in excitement and one in disbelief. You groaned loudly, “Ugh now you made me spoil the surprise. Joon’s gonna kill me.”

He rushed to your side, wrapping his arms around you way too tightly, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll act surprised. I’ll even cry in joy and say I never would’ve known, don’t be sad.”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s ruined, sorry.”

“No, it’s not,” Jungkook said as you stood up carrying both of your plates to the sink but he followed after you, “I’ll probably forget.”

“No you won’t.”

“I know, but at least now I can dress accordingly, where are we going?”

“Okay, I’m definitely not telling you that,” you chuckled, already going over the mishap. He smacked his lips, “But how am I supposed to plan my outfits with yours? We have to couple match, it’s my birthday.”

“You’re going to be annoying until then, won’t you?” You asked leaving to your bedroom and he was right behind you. He smiled, hugging you from behind, “Yup, because I’m so excited now, and I forgive you for talking to Joon hyung so much today instead of me.”

“You played for two hours ignoring me.”

“And now I’m gonna spend at least eight hours bothering you tonight.”

::.

Jungkook is so annoying 🤭

taglist: @nikkiordonez12 2 @blushblossomsblog @whosaero o @purpleunicorn051 @rerefundslocals s @shaybts-blog @hobiseightbracelet t @beautifulsunghoon @piscesbunnny @bitemejjk : @asking4-sanity @guvgguk @jiminshi20 @thvhoe @notmyfaultbutours @kimyishin @libra04 @cherrysainttt @potatocheesebites @zaedynnn @thvlover @thvlover7 idk @kooromiwrld @saweetspoiled @sugaluvmyg @cherrymonlightt

[mamaestapa]

Morning Sickness, Baby Bumps, and AFC Championships, oh my!

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•series summary: Y/n Hubbard, the younger sister of Cincinnati Bengals Defensive End Sam Hubbard, finds herself in a difficult situation after a steamy hookup with her brothers best friend, who just so happens to be the quarterback for the Bengals. In just nine months their lives will be changed forever. How will Y/n and Joe manage to to go through parenthood together? more so, how will Sam take the news he is going to be the uncle of his best friends baby?

•chapter summary: It’s AFC championship day!you talk to Joe for the first time since you broke the news to him and you discover a sweet surprise

•word count: 4k

•warnings: Pregnancy, morning sickness, vomiting, mentions of dildos (you’ll see-), language, the usual ;)

series masterlist

——————————————————

January 28-29, 2023 (the actual game is not accurate. I didn't feel like going back and looking at play by play stuff lol)

2 months pregnant

"All right, everyone here?" Zac asked, rubbing his hands together and surveying the crowd full of players. The players, coaches, and other staff including you were all sitting half dead, in the film room of the Kettering Health practice facility, at 4 fucking am. Why were you all there at 4 am you might ask? Well, AFC championship is tomorrow, woo hoo! (Can you hear the sarcasm? You’re excited, just not excited to be here at four in the morning…) You really don't know why Zac needs all of you to be here at four AM if you’re not even leaving until nine? You sat between Sam and Tee, trying to stay awake as Zac was rambling on about the upcoming game. Joe was sitting to your right, next to Sam. Every once in a while, the two of you would glance at one another, your quick, blank glances speaking so many unspoken words. You could tell Joe was still trying to process the news that he was going to be a dad.

You groaned silently and shut your eyes in agony as as Zay pulled down a projector. You leaned over and whispered to Sam, "He made us all come here at four in the morning for this? I don't even need to be watching this shit." It’s true. There is absolutely no reason or benefit for you to watch film for the next four hours.

Sam scoffed, "Tell me about it...I spent all week watching film." Tee leaned over your body, "Diddo." he spoke lowly. Joe’s eyes widened as he looked at Tee. “Did you just say dildo?" he asked, horrified.

You snorted out a laugh. A couple guys turned around and looked at you. Then, Zac stopped talking. Your heart dropped at the sudden attention on you. You could feel your face start to heat up as you spoke, “Sorry coach, I-I felt a sneeze coming."

Zac shook his head, "S’all good. As I was saying..." You turned your attention back to the football players around you. Tee tried to suppress a laugh as he shook his head at his quarterback, “No you dirty minded fuck, I didn't say dildo. I said diddo."

Joe chuckled, “Oh. oops." You just shook your head as the two chuckled. You leaned back in your seat and ignored the childish men next to you, instead trying to focus on staying awake. There really was no reason for you to even be here. You could be in your bed right now, getting enough sleep before your flight to Kansas City, but no. Zac insisted everyone come to the practice facility for film. You shook your head as you heard the guys snicker beside you. You ignored them once again and went back to trying to stay awake.

Your attempts ultimately failed as you felt your head fall onto Tee's shoulder. You suddenly jerked your head up at the contact. "Sorry Tee..." you whispered as you rubbed your heavy, tired eyes. Tee wrapped a muscular arm around your shoulder, pulling you into him, "You're alright, babe. Get some sleep." You smiled softly, cuddling into his side and drowning out the sounds of Zac's voice as he explained the current selection of film.

About an hour later you woke up to a sudden feeling of nausea. This morning sickness thing really gets old quick...but it's so going to be worth it in about seven months. At least, you hope it'll be worth it.

You jolted your head up from Tee's shoulder, swallowing thickly and feeling a sour taste in your mouth as you did so. You brought your hand up to your mouth, covering it discreetly with a few fingers. Tee looked down at you, a look of deep concern appearing on his face, "You alright?" You nodded, "Yeah," you swallowed once again, stomach churning as the bile began to rise u the back of your throat. You didn't have long before you'd be throwing up. "I uh, I just have to go to the bathroom...girl problems." You lied as Tee let go of you and nodded, "Oh okay. I'll keep your spot warm." You winked in return, "Thanks, you're the best."

You discreetly got out of your chair and quietly hurried over to the bathroom, basically throwing yourself into a stall as soon as you got in there. You hovered over the toilet and immediately pulled your hair back as you retched into the toilet. You heard the door open, causing you to raise your head from the porcelain bowl. You wiped your mouth and took a deep breath, waiting to hear who was in the bathroom with you.

"Y/n?" you heard a familiar voice ask, "you in here?" You felt your heart drop as you heard him speak. "Y-yeah. I'm in here, Joe." You said shakily as you held your hand out under the stall for him to see. Suddenly, you felt another wave of nausea consume you. You groaned, "Oh god..." Joe jogged over to the stall and swung the door open. He quickly leaned down and grabbed your hair, holding it back for you and rubbing your back with his free hand as you coughed into the bowl. "There you go," he soothed quietly, "just let it all out."

You were a bit confused as to why Joe was in the bathroom with you. But you were even more confused over the fact that he was helping you, calming you down through your first round of morning sickness. You figured he'd need more time to process the news about the baby, but here he was, helping you out with the sickness caused by that same baby. You hurled once again, groaning into the bowl as the early morning nausea raged on. Joe couldn't help but grimace as he looked down at you. "I'm sorry, I really am." he said, his grimace turning to a frown as you brought your head up from the toilet. You reached up to flush the toilet, wiping your mouth at the same time. "No you're not." you said, taking a deep breath. Morning sickness was absoluetly exhausting. And being up since 3 o'clock in the morning didn't help either.

Joe chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist. You leaned back into his touch, not even thinking about what you were doing. All that vomiting must have clouded your judgement. The two of you sat in tense silence for a moment before you broke it. "Why are you in here?" you asked softly. You felt Joe shrug beneath you, "You seemed a little frantic getting out of there," he cleared his throat, "plus, I know the first trimester can be rough with the whole morning sickness thing. Figured that's why you ran off..." You just hummed in response.

After a couple minutes of composing yourself, you no longer felt nauseated. You wiped your mouth one last and stood up from Joe's embrace. Joe stood the same time as you and backed out of the stall, so that you could leave. He watched from the stall door with soft eyes as you washed your hands and rinsed your mouth out. You turned to the side to grab a paper towel. Joe couldn't help the faint gasp that left his lips as he saw what was in front of him. You looked up at him through the mirror, confused as to why he was gasping, "Huh?" you asked. You swore you could see his blue eyes begin to well with tears. You turned around and looked at him, concerned, "What!?" "Turn to the side again." Joe instructed, gesturing for you to turn again. You gave him a funny look as you furrowed your brow in confusion, "O-okay?"

You did as Joe said. You looked at him through the mirror, unsure of what he wanted you to look at. He just pointed at the mirror as your eyes surveyed all over the mirror. You couldn't find what he was tearing up over; however, your eyes immediately widened when you finally saw what it was.

"Oh my god..." you breathed out, placing both of your hands on your belly. You flattened your shirt, discovering that there was now a very small bump where your previously flat stomach was. Your heart swelled as you looked at the little bump that was beginning to form. The bump that was only going to grow bigger and bigger as the months flew by. Your baby was finally starting to show and your pregnancy was really starting to feel real now. You looked up at Joe through the mirror once again, smiling widely. Joe had the same smile tugging at his lips.

"Well," he slowly made his way up to the sink, "would you look at that..." he said in awe, which you couldn't help but giggle. "I didn't think i'd show this early." Joe chuckled, looking down at your tummy, "Baby definitely decided to make an appearance today didn't he?" "He?" you inquired, eyebrow raised as you looked at the blonde. "Yeah, I think it's a boy." he shrugged. "Oh really? Are we placing bets already?" you said, smirking at him. Joe chuckled, "Maybe"

You smiled softly, looking down at your small baby bump. You looked back up at Joe, noticing how his blue eyes seemed to light up every time he looked at your belly. You knew you needed to talk to him about the baby and his reaction to your pregnancy. You needed to know what he was going to do and how he was processing the news of becoming a father. It would be easy to bring up since neither of you were really thinking about anything at the moment except for the life inside your womb.

"Joe," you said, your voice just slightly above a whisper, "we need to talk." Joe nodded, "Yeah, we do."

You took a deep breath as you saw his mouth open as if he was going to say something to you. He closed his mouth and just looked at you, neither one of you really knew how to start the conversation. You looked into his eyes and sighed softly. You decided to be the one to rip off the bandaid and get the conversation started.

"How are you doing?" you asked, referring to the baby news bomb you had dropped on him just days ago. Joe shrugged, "I'm OK. Still trying to process things." he said softly as he looked down at you. His blue eyes averted from your eyes and down to your belly. A small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. "I know I said I wasn't ready to be a dad yet, but," he reached out for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "I won't let you go through this alone, Y/n."

Tears began to well up in your eyes at his words. You blame the hormones, but really, they were tears of relief. You and Joe still needed time to process everything, but it was so good to know he wasn't going to abandon you or his baby.

"I still need some time, and I know neither of us are ready to be parents," he looked into your eyes, his gaze soft, "but we'll get through this together."

You smiled softly at him. Deep down you knew Joe would never make you go through parenthood by yourself, but it was still reassuring to hear him say it himself. There was a still a lot you and Joe needed to discuss regarding your pregnancy and your relationship, but this was a good starting point. And hey, you still have about seven months to figure everything else out.

"Thank you Joe." You spoke softly. Joe nodded and gave you a small smile in return, "Of course, Y/n. We'll talk more after the game, yeah?" You nodded, "Okay," you glanced at your watch, noticing that a lot of time has passed since you first went into the bathroom, "we should probably get back out there before anyone gets suspicious." Joe stood up straight from his leaning position on the bathroom counter, "You're right," he sighed, "we should probably go back out there. I don't feel like getting my ass called out by Taylor." You giggled as you pulled your leggings up higher to try and conceal the slight bump in your lower abdomen. The bump wasn't too big yet, so if someone asked about it, you could hide it by saying it was simply just period bloat.

Joe walked out of the bathroom before you did, so the two of you didn't come out and sit back down in your seats at the same time. You. waited a couple more minutes before exiting the bathroom, and quietly making your way back over to your seat. Tee looked up at you and smiled softly, "You okay? It took you a while in there." You held your hand up, stopping him, "Trust me, you don't want to know." He shuddered as he remembered what you told him when you got up to use the bathroom, "Yeah you're right, I probably don't." You just chuckled and sat back in your seat, listening to the rest of the Zac's film breakdown.

~time skip~

"Okay everyone" Zac said, gesturing out to all of you standing around, "we board the plane in ten. See ya on there!" You sighed, ready to get out of the airport gate and onto the plane.

"Hey Y/n, can I steal you real quick?" Zac asked, walking up behind you. You turned around to took look at the coach, smiling as you said, "Yeah, of course." You got up from your seat and followed him away from the crowd of players. He stopped in front of the coffee bar, you doing the same. "You sure you still want to come?" he asked, crossing his arms. You nodded, "Yes, definitely! Why wouldn't I?" He frowned softly as he lowered his voice, "I saw you get up and go to the bathroom. Morning sickness hitting you hard?"

Your shoulders fell in defeat as you let out a sigh. "Yeah, it is. But I'm fine now," you smiled slightly, "I probably won't be around eleven though, but I'll manage." Zac nodded, "Okay, just wanted to make sure. You don't need to do anything tomorrow except enjoy the game. Kate's got everything covered." You smiled, grateful that Zac handled everything, "Oh okay, great. Thanks coach." He smiled, "yup, thank you. I'll see you on the plane." Zac walked away, leaving you alone to walk back over to the guys.

"You guys ready to be AFC champs again?" you asked, smiling brightly as you got closer to the group. Sam smirked, "Hell yeah." Ja'Marr smiled as he fist bumped Sam, "We're goin' all the way again this season."

The Bengals and Chiefs battled eachother for the AFC champion title just last year, with the Bengals winning. This time however, the Chiefs were ready for their revenge against the boys in orange and black. As time neared to board the plane, you double checked and made sure you had everything you needed before boarding the plane. You had the option to have your own seat up front near the coaches, and coordinators, or you could sit with all the guys. After much whining and pleading from Ja'Marr and Tee, and them earning an eye roll from you in return, you decided to sit with the guys. They cheered as you walked down the aisle of seats, finding Tee with an empty seat next to him. You happily sat down next to him as you looked to see who was around you. In front of you sat Joe and Sam, while Ja'Marr and Evan McPherson sat next to you. As the plane started moving, you pulled out your phone.

"Hey guys, get in." you said, smiling as you held out your phone so it could get all the guys in the frame. You took a selfie with all five of them and posted it to your instagram story, along with the teams story. You shut your phone off, put your AirPods in, and drifted off into a much needed rest.

You woke up about an hour later to surprise, surprise another feeling of nausea. You looked at your watch checking the time, and sure enough, it was eleven AM. You groaned slightly as you felt a sour taste in your mouth, getting up and quietly making your way into the bathroom. Thankfully, almost all the guys had headphones on, and the planes engine was loud enough to drown out the sound of you throwing up. After cleaning yourself up you made your way back to your seat. As you walked down the aisle, you noticed most of the guys were asleep except for Joe, and a few others. You walked by his seat, acknolweding him by reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulder. You smiled softly as he looked up at me. Joe smiled and reached out, letting his hand graze your lower belly for just a couple seconds. You sat back down in your seat, leaning on your hand, and slowly drifting back to sleep for the rest of the flight to Kansas City.

~time skip~

"You guys have worked your asses off all year to get here. Go out there and make all that hard work pay off. Go out there and make me proud guys. But don't just make me proud. Make your family, your friends, your kids, and most importantly, your fans proud! Prove the haters, the doubters, the ones saying you wouldn't get to this moment ever again, prove them wrong! Go out there and kick some ass guys. I know you're all hungry for another AFC championship win, so let's go out there, and play like fucking champions today!" Zac yelled, finishing up his pre-game locker room speech.

Your eyes widened as you heard chanting and clapping break out in the locker room. You made your way out of the locker room tunnel and out to the Bengals sideline of the stadium. As you made your way out there, you waved to some of the fans in the stands. Normally a social media manager wouldn't get the attention of fans, but having Sam Hubbard as your older brother gets you a lot of attention--from fans and other players.

About fifteen minutes later, kickoff rolled around. The Chiefs received the ball first. You stood on the sidelines in your "Hubbard" jersey, black leggings, black boots and orange puffer jacket, watching as the defense went to work. Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahomes faked a hand off to Pacheco, instead opting to throw to tight end Travis Kelce, who ran it in 15 yards for a Cheifs touchdown. The crowd in Arrowhead went wild, Cheifs fans already celebrating their 6, now 7, point lead. You watched as Joe jogged onto the field, ready to catch up. The Bengals offense took the field, looking flawless the first couple plays, until they got down to the 20 yard line. Joe Mixon took a nasty hit, and his return to the game was questionable. The Bengals took a time out after their lead back got injured. You made eye contact with Joe as he got a drink. You gave him a thumbs up. He smiled slightly before jogging back onto the field. The guys got out of their huddle just by a clap from Joe's hands. By the way the players were set up on the field, you knew that Joe would be throwing the ball.

"Turbo set hut" Joe yelled out his cadence. You stood on your tip toes to watch the scene in front of your. Just as you expected, Joe flawlessly threw the ball to Ja’Marr for a touchdown.

"Touchdown Cincinnati!" The announcer yelled.

"Yes!” You yelled, cheering along with Kate through the commotion in the stands. You high-fived Joe as he walked by taking his helmet off. He sat down on the bench and put his Bengals beanie on as a water boy put a black sideline coat over his body. The rest of the first quarter was pretty boring, as not much was happening. Same with the second quarter, except for the Chiefs making a field goal before half.

At half time, the Chiefs were leading 10-7. You stayed out on the sidelines with Kate as the guys went to the locker room. After halftime, the Bengals received the ball at kickoff. Trent Taylor ran it up to the 30 before getting tackled. Joe and the guys ran onto the field. They ran the ball for a couple of plays, which didn’t get them anywhere. At this point, the Bengals were at 3rd down, and Zac still wanted them to run the ball. You watched as Joe decided it wouldn't be good for them to run it, so he faked a hand off to Perine, and threw the ball instead. You held your breath, watching as Joe lofted the ball into the air. Tee caught the ball and took off running, but he was immediately knocked down. However, the Bengals did successfully get the 1st down. Joe went to throw the ball again, but he got sacked. After a couple plays, the team was at 4th down, with Zac deciding to go for it. Unfortunately, Joe’s pass was tipped and picked. Everyone on the Bengals sideline shoulders slumped, upset with the outcome of the play. The fans in the stadium went wild as a defensive player caught the ball.

Fast forward to the final five minutes of the 4th quarter...both teams were tied. The guys looked great the beginning of the half, but something seemed off toward the end. Joe wasn't throwing as consistently and accurately, and the receivers seemed to be out of sync. Even the defense struggled to keep up with the pressure and intensity of the Chiefs offense.

Sadly, the Bengals made a late hit, giving the Chiefs a brand new set of downs with 10 seconds left. Harrison Butker, kicker for the Chiefs, made the field goal, sending the Kansas City Chiefs to the Super Bowl.

Arrowhead went insane as the players celebrated on the field. Many Bengals players and coaches went out to the field to congratulate their opponents. You looked over at Sam and frowned, mouthing, “I’m so sorry.” He just shrugged and smiled sadly at you.

You could tell this loss wasn’t going to be easy on anyone.

~time skip~

You and Kate sat in the conference room set up in the stadium for post game interviews. The four players that would be getting interviews done from the Bengals were Coach Taylor, Joe, Ja’Marr and Sam.

Zac went first, talking about the outcome of the game and how the off-season would look for the team. You weren’t really listening to what he was saying, you just sat there and tuned out his voice as your thoughts ran wild. It was the off-season now, meaning you and Joe could focus on the more important things in your lives right now. The list too long to even begin naming…

You head perked up as you saw Joe walk up to the podium. You sat up a little straighter and listened carefully as the blonde did his post game interview.

"Hey Joe, we just have a few questions. How are you handling this loss? Joe nodded, "Yeah, we uh, it's tough. It’s tough to lose such a big game like this, but our guys are going to take this as a learning experience, and uh, come back next year better than the last." He finished with a nod, turning to look at the next reporter.

"Joe, after the first half...you threw that interception, got sacked, and your throws didn’t look good out there. Why is that?"

Joe had a slight look of disappointment on his face, but he wouldn’t let the reporters notice. You on the other hand couldn't help but frown at the reporters question.

“Yeah,” he nodded, “I will not be the first to say that I was not playing well the fourth quarter. I was trying to, to make plays out of something that wasn't there, and it ultimately lost us the game."

"You feel like you're the reason the team lost?" the reporter questioned. Joe nodded, "I do,” he sighed softly, “And uh, I feel that if I wouldn't have thrown that pick, maybe we would have won, but it's hard to say. They were the better team today, and our guys-,” he hesitated before he said, “we looked good at times, but, we definitely struggled that second half."

You couldn't help but feel a little guilty. Maybe if I would've waited to tell him about the baby after the game, he would've played better. You thought to yourself as you continued to watch Joe.

"Hey Joe,” he looked at the next reporter and nodded, “what do you think caused your team to underperform that second half?”

Joe shrugged, "I can't speak for the other guys, but for myself I can," he glanced at you as he said the following, "I received some very exciting, but also uh, nerve wracking, I guess you could say. Uh news a couple days ago, and I guess I was still focused on that.” He chuckled, making the reporters laugh too.

He composed himself and looked at the reporter as he continued, "but uh, the nerves from, from that and you know just the nerves from this game today really affected my performance. It’s huge to win something like this, and to go out there and perform the way that we did, the way that I did, it, it’s tough. But,” he sighed, “You can't blame just one person, it's a whole team effort. There were things that I could've done better, things our defense could've done better. Everyone could have been better.”

"Thank you Joe.“ A female reporter spoke up, “One last question, Joe.” he looked at her and nodded, setting his lips, “What’s this news you're talking about?"

Joe looked at you sheepishly before answering the question, "Well, I can't say right now, but you'll find out in the off-season for sure.” he winked. He smiled slightly at you as he said, “but I’m not going anywhere. I’m here for the long run,” he looked back at the reporters and continued, “you'll see us here again next year, better than ever.”

"Thank you, Joe."

"Yep." he nodded as thanked the reporters and walked off the stage.

You smiled to yourself, knowing he answered that last question for you. Joe wasn't going anywhere.

~time skip~

"Sam,” you said, laughing at your older brother, “that's my seat."

Sam sat down next to Tee on the plane before you could. “Well not anymore.” He chuckled, smiling smugly as he made a show to snuggle himself into the seat. You rolled your eyes and backed up slightly, "Fine,” you said, “I’ll l sit with Joe." You put your bag in the compartment above the seat, shutting it and looking down at Joe, who was seated in the window seat. “Sorry.” You smiled softly, sitting down in the aisle seat next to him.

Joe looked up at you, "You’re good.” he said, his voice soft. You sat back in the seat, getting comfortable as the plane took off. The plane ride was silent and somber. Almost all of the guys were asleep, except for a couple here and there that were spread out throughout the plane. You, however, were wide awake. You turned around to look behind you. Tee and Sam were sound asleep. You turned back to look at Joe and saw he was looking out the window. You frowned slightly and reached out, gently placing your hand on his knee. He turned his head at the sudden touch, a soft smile on his face as he looked at you.

"Hey Y/n." he said softly. You pulled your hand away, “How you doing?" you asked, your voice low so only he could hear you. Joe shrugged, "Ok I guess. I’m disappointed, I feel like I really cost us that game with that interception." You frowned at his response, “Awe, Joe, don't blame yourself. Seriously, you guys did great. Could you have played better? Yes. But that’s doesn’t mean the Chiefs were perfect. They struggled just as much as you guys did.”

He smiled softly, looking into your eyes as he nodded, “Yeah, I guess you're right."

“I’m proud of you guys either way though.”

“Thanks Y/n.” Joe said softly. The two of you just looked at each other, neither one of you saying anything for a few moments. After a couple minutes of silence, Joe sighed and spoke up, “I’m sorry if I worried you a couple days ago, when you told me about the you know…” he trailed off, “I still need time to process things,” he slowly brought his hand over to hover over your tummy, you gently grabbed his hand and placed it on your lower abdomen. The two of you smiled at each other.

“But I am starting to come around to this.” he said, his tone genuine. You placed your hand over his as you smiled warmly at him, “I am too.” You gently rubbed his hand with your thumb as you sheepishly looked up at him, “I have my first ultrasound in a couple weeks. You’re more than welcome to come.” Joe nodded, his blue eyes shining, “Send me a date and time. I’ll see what I can do.”

The two of you pulled your hands away and wished the other goodnight. Your thoughts wandered to what you had to talk about with Joe.

How would you tell your parents?

How would you tell Sam?

How would you tell his teammates, his friends?

Where will the baby stay?

How will you and Joe raise the baby since you’re not together?

There was so much to talk about these next seven months. But for now, it was comforting to know he wasn’t going anywhere. Even if you weren’t together, you and Joe would be raising this baby together.

hi loves!

some sweet moments in this chapter, and joes starting to come around to the baby…for now😏

i haven’t updated this series in a couple weeks and i apologize for that. i’ve been in a little slump, but i think i’m finally coming out of it :)

i’m hoping to update this again this week, along with the first part of the jealous joe fic that we’re all looking forward to! i cant wait to start that one, i’ve got some good things planned that i think you’ll like ;)

i hope you’re all doing well! thank you for your patience with me as i took a break from updating. i appreciate you all so much🤍🤍

tags: @dandelionwrites8 @joeburreauxsworld @theflawedwriter @mrsshiesty @ann288 @ijustcrypretty @theoneandonlyfanz @wickedfun9 @venus-b @hummusxx @stainednailpolishremover @a-moment-captured @alternativemadchen @erinmartin1987 @sirlewisworld @kkrenae @unhingedfangirl @sublimemusic-rebel @meameagirl @ilovejoeburroww @hallecarey1 @j-worlds-blog @blinkloverx3 @jordyn14 @kristencochefski1125 @emherb10

[centaurianthropology]

Things I Will be Obnoxious About: Project Ghostlight

Hi all!  Remember a few years ago (or maybe you don’t; maybe you’re new or maybe you have retrograde amnesia) when I spent a healthy while banging on about a Vampire: The Masquerade live-play series called ‘New York by Night’?

Yeah, I still love that show, but unfortunately for me and for the team that made it, the real world very much happened, and they weren’t able to continue the series as they had planned.  That show is now on a more-or-less indefinite hiatus.  From what I’ve gathered, the will is very much there in both the cast and crew to return to do season 3 (and fingers crossed, maybe more!), but not only are schedules hard to wrangle for four busy players, but the show was initially budgeted to have the first three seasons filmed over the course of a month, something which didn’t happen.  So now spinning it up would necessarily require an increase in funding first just to get it off the ground again.  So, yes, complications.  Unfortunate, unavoidable complications.

Oh, and by the way, how did I know about that tidbit about funding?

I learned it from the very first large drop from ‘Project Ghostlight’.  This is a now-forming new Vampire chronicle (a long-form game for folks who aren’t as up on the terminology specific to this series of TTRPGs) that formed when the cast of season 1 (my beloved) desperately wanted to keep playing together, but didn’t have a venue or the time to do so without making it a more formal thing than a get-together at someone’s house once a month.  Named after the single light always left burning in a theatre when all other lights are out and the building is empty between performances, Ghostlight is four people who ended up being close friends just wanting to keep hanging out and making spooky things together.  And they are bringing in friends!

We don’t know about setting, characters, or much of anything yet, as everything is still early days, but the cast and crew are currently as follows:

Alexander Ward – Storyteller (that’s GM to those folks in the D&D world)

Joey Rassool – Director and Producer (and hopefully also sometimes player??  I thought he was one of the big breakouts of season 1 NYbN, and was hugely impressed with his playstyle)

Aabria Iyengar - Player

Mayanna Berrin – Player

Xander Jeanneret – Player

Gina DeVivo – Player

Luis Carazo – Player

For those in the TTRPG space, I don’t need to tell you that cast is stacked, and it’s stacked with veterans of both NYbN and its predecessor LA by Night.  These are the announced players so far, and it’s not clear (maybe not even to them) if they’ll bring in guests or keep to this main cast, but no matter what this is the sort of cast and crew that made me sit up and notice.  This is a cast and crew made of some of my favorite people in the TTRPG scene, and clearly people selected for their ability to really lean into the terrible choices and darker tone of VtM. 

And even before they’ve fully spooled their new chronicle up, we’re getting treats over on their Patreon.  The first, which I have already watched through several times and makes me so very happy, is essentially a postmortem of season 1 (and a little 2) of New York by Night by all four players, moderated by season 2 player (and Ghostlight player) Xander Jeanneret.  They clearly love the show and their characters, and clearly want to get back to it, but there also seems to be a not-unwarranted concern that season 3 simply might never happen. 

So this panel gives us a LOT of information about their characters, motivations, plans, and behind the scenes peeks at how the players were going about the game in season 1.  There are spoilers for a lot of stuff I had sort of suspected, and plenty of stuff I hadn’t, which was thrilling.  I was definitely wrong about certain character motivations!  What fun!  It’s an hour and a half long, and such a lovely look at how these four met, became friends, made a lightning-in-a-bottle season of a TTRPG show, and never lost the itch to play again.  It’s an immensely satisfying and somewhat bittersweet revisit of one of my favorite TTRPG projects.  It’s so wonderful to see all four of them together again, and how well Xander meshes with the group. 

So, yes, this is a warning that I’m going to very likely be obnoxious about this show once it goes up. This is also encouragement for those of you who enjoyed NYbN, Vampire: the Masquerade, spooks, goth shit, or even just TTRPGs and you’re interested in a new system, to throw a little bit of love toward the Patreon, and if you can’t do that, to stay tuned for Ghostlight and get hyped with me.

And maybe, if you haven’t, to check out New York by Night in the meantime. It may be on indefinite hiaitus, but it’s really fun. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I fully intend to rewatch season 1 of New York by Night with the information I now have about all the characters.  I’m excited to see if I catch nuances I missed the first time through.

[mastermindmiko]

Rivals

Pairing: James Potter + reader

word count: 2903 (this was actually supposed to be 1k or less, but ig more for you guys)

Summary: You and James are Quidditch rivals. You're Quidditch captain and he's Quidditch captain, it only makes sense, right? But what if there's maybe something else fueling your hatred?

Warnings: Injuries and kissing. Lmk if there's anything else

I wrote this all in one go, 1:30 am so if there's any mistakes please don't mind them, and lmk.

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

"Hey, Diggory! watch out!" I scream as loudly as I can over the shouts of the crowds, while Amos barely registers my warning before he notices a bludger flying his way. His eyes widen and its only a second before he gets knocked off his broom and down to the ground hurtling at a great speed, with how fast he was going no one was going to be able to catch him.

I hear him thud to the ground and I hear madam Hootch call a time out while I zoom to reach him. I throw my broom to ground and drop to my knees. Amos is moaning on the ground in pain. He's got a hand over his chest, and I can only assume that he has at least a few broken ribs.

Several other players are coming off their brooms to check on the injured player. The rest of my teammates, the Hufflepuff team, come down and fuss over Amos. Madam Promfrey enters the field and shoos everyone from around him. I look around and I notice the person who was the cause of all of this.

"What the hell, Jordan?" I shout and the Gryffindor, who's looking guiltily at Amos while a few of my teammates help lift him up. Jordan opens his mouth to reply, but gets interrupted when someone steps in front of him to reply instead, "Calm down, Y/L/N. That's just the way the game works."

"Shut up, Potter." I say, then turning to madam Hootch, "That's an obvious foul, he's not allowed to do that." madam Hootch doesn't get to say anything before, once again Potter interrupts. I swear to Merlin that boy has no manners. He says, "It's not a foul, that's just the game, and if you don't think you can handle it then just quit."

"Why would I quit when I'm the best damn chaser in this school?"

"You're obviously more of an idiot than I thought you were if you think that you're the best chaser." Potter folds his arms and he looks at me with a smirk, the most annoying one I've ever seen in my whole life, if I might add. I lunge at him, but Amelia holds me back.

Potter only smirks more, and I narrow my eyes at him trying not to scowl. I turn back to whisper something to Smith, my team's beater, "Aim for Potter."

"There will be no aiming for anyone, miss Y/L/N. The match will not be continuing." madam Hootch announces, and my mouth drops at the news and I hear Potter gasp. I ask, "Why not?"

I heard another voice saying the words with me, so I turn to Potter to give him a glare. He only gives me a glare back before we turn to madam Hootch. She sighs, "There are only half the players there are supposed to be in the field. Half of each of you're teams are injured. We'll reschedule the game."

I huff, and madam Hootch puts her wand to her throat to announce the news to the crowds, they all groan in disappointment and start clearing out. I grab my broom from the ground and start marching back into the castle on my way to the hospital wing.

What's left of my team follow me to wing to check up on the rest of the team. Amos has already been put on the bed, and madam Pomfrey is pacing around the room going from one injured Quidditch player to another. I head over to Amos, and ask, "Are you okay?"

"I've been better." He groans, as madam Pomfrey hands him a glass of Skelegro. She tuts as Amos gags on the drink, and she frowns. I cautiously ask, "So, what's the damage?"

"You're not going to be able to play for a month." She says, and I gasp. She continues, "For the past year, every time there's a Hufflepuff and Gryffindor match most of the players end up here with me. Now, I'd expect this behavior from Gryffindors, but you, wouldn't have guessed in a million years."

I feel the guilt starting to fill me. I did push the players to take risks, but I never expected this to go this far. Amos finishes the cup and he nearly gags again before madam Pomfrey shoots him a glare. He says, "Maybe it's time, for the sake of team of course, that you forgive him..."

"No, absolutely not. It's one thing to toy with the team when it comes to Quidditch, but it's another when he manipulates my feelings into doing so." I say, and I head over the other players. I'm checking on Boot's broken leg when I hear the sound of it, the sound of his stupid strutting.

He goes to survey his team and no doubt madam Pomfrey is telling him about the whole not playing for a month thing because I hear his loud gasp from all the way across the hospital wing. I roll my eyes, and Boot gives me a look. I mumble, "Shut up, Boot."

He lifts his arms up, surrendering and then I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder. I already know who it is, having done this three times already. I shove his arms off me and he pouts, "What's wrong, love? We're off the pitch, shouldn't we put our claws away?"

"Leave, Potter." I say, irritated obviously, and Amos opens his curtain from beside his bed so he's able to see the interaction. Corner does the same thing from the other side of Boot's bed, and despite the look I give to both of them, they keep watching. Potter says, "Why would I do that when you're here?"

His friends, Lupin and Black enter the hospital wing and he lifts up a finger to me, signaling that he'll be back before he goes off to them. I fold my arms over my chest, and I see Boot looking at me. I huff, "What?"

"I heard he just asked her out to make Amos jealous." Boot says, and Amos flushes. This morning, Potter asked out Evans in front of the Great Hall. Half of Hogwarts' population were looking at her for the reply while the other half was looking at me for a reaction. I pretended like nothing of interest was happening, but Amelia already had a supportive hand on my leg. She said yes, and they'll be going out tomorrow.

"Why would I care about that piece of information? You should be taking to Amos he's the one who's got his crush going out on a date." I say, avoiding my teammates' eyes. Boot replies, "Yes, but your crush is the one that asked her out."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I reply and I feel like I've had enough. I did know what he was talking about. Last year, the day before we left for summer break, I spilled about my crush on Potter to Amelia and the girl can't keep her mouth shut for two seconds, shouted it back out loud in the Great Hall. I thought that everyone would forget by the time that we went back to school last september, and almost everyone did.

However, only two days before Quidditch season started, Potter himself, asked me out. I couldn't believe it at first, knowing how much he used to babble on about Evans all the time. Then out of the corner of my eye, I notice a few certain people from the Gryffindor table looking at us eagerly, I recognize those few people as the Quidditch team. Of course, I said no, but I couldn't say that I wasn't hurt.

Croner's injury was in his shoulder and since he could eavesdrop on us so easily I'd assume that it's fine by now. I head out of the hospital wing, and back to my dorm for a shower.

~~~

Without Quidditch practice, I realize that I have a lot more time on my hands. It made me realize how much I suck at my regular subjects. I wasn't planning on using them anyway, I wanted to be a professional Quidditch player, so acing charms wasn't really on my agenda. I had a quiz tomorrow and when I finally lost hope of passing, I went to my favorite place, the kitchens.

The elves were always so nice and eager to please. The place was just a few steps away from my common room which meant that I could go whenever I want and not having to worry about getting caught by any Prefects.

I was eating a muffin while doodling some plays that might be beneficial for when we get back to playing. The door opens and Wigby rushes to greet whoever came. To my displeasure, Potter enters. He beams when he sees me, and I groan at his horribly disguised acting, as if he'd want to actually see me without an ulterior motive.

"What you've got there?" he asks, looking down at my paper, and I flip it over quickly, remembering that these are the team's plays. I huff, "None of your business, and what are you doing here anyways, it's after curfew."

"I could ask you the same thing." He says, and I roll my eyes when he hops on the counter beside me. I look away from him, but I can feel his gaze burning the side of my neck. He asks, "What would you recommend? You seem to be here a lot."

"I recommend you getting out." I say, and he chuckles at my reply though I don't get what's funny. Wigby comes to me and asks, "Do you need another muffin miss?"

"Yes Wigby that would be great." I smile and she turns to Potter and he says, "I'll have one of the muffins that she's having."

"Shouldn't you go to bed? You must be tired" I say before I can stop myself, as soon as Wigby leaves. He looks confused, and he scrunches up his face the way he always does when he's confused, it's the look he has all throughout potions. He asks, "Why would I be tired?"

"Because you had a date this morning." I reply like it's obvious and finally look at him. He chuckles and then shakes his head. Wigby hands over the muffins in a plate and he grabs one before saying, "Oh no, I didn't. Lily just wanted me to ask her out to make Diggory jealous."

So Boot was right, he's always the one who has all the gossip. I grab a bite swallow slowly, and then say, "Oh, well, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Because you like her, it mustn't feel good to help her get another guy." I explain and I look away from him. He gulps down the rest of the muffin and I wonder how he can eat so fast. He clears his throat, "Lily? No, I don't like her, not anymore. I was just trying to get back in her good graces after last year..."

He trails off and I already know what he's talking about. At the end of fifth year, Potter, Black, Lupin and Snape got into a big fight, and Lily got caught in the crossfire. It's all everyone talked about for days.

I don't say anything because I don't know what to say. There's a silence between us that I can't pinpoint if it's heavy or comfortable. He shuffles beside me, before he asks, "Now that we won't be playing for a while, would you like to go out with me?"

My blood goes cold, and I lose my appetite. I place my half eaten muffin back on the plate and I brush off the crumbs from my hands and jeans. I mumble, "I can't believe this."

"What?" He asks, confused again. I hop off of the kitchen island and I thank Widgby. I make my way to the door. He rushes after me and says, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you." I say, and I shut the door behind me, he catches it before it closes and he follows me. Maybe I can reach the common room before he does anything as audacious. He asks, "Why? I just asked a question-well technically two, but-"

"Why couldn't you just drop this?" I stop in my tracks, and turn to him with a glare. He stops as well and looks at me shocked. I have my finger lifted to his chest accusingly and he asks, "Drop what?"

"Acting as if you like me, when you're just trying to use me for Quidditch." I say, and he looks confused again. Merlin, he is not a good actor. I continue, "It's one thing to use your pranks to sabotage the team, but it's another to try and use my feelings as a means to get to that."

"I'm not-"

I scoff, and I don't let him finish before I storm off again. He jogs after me and attaches a hand to my wrist to stop me from going. He reasons, "I would never use anyone's feelings like that. I actually want to go out with you-"

"Please, and those feelings suddenly appeared for the first time two days before Quidditch season." I say, and he has that look in his eye look all the pieces of the puzzle are coming together. He says, "So that's why you said no- I- I didn't even notice that Quidditch season was starting- well I did, but not in a way that correlates to me asking you out."

"It just took me so long to pluck up the courage to ask you out-"

"So I guess that's why you're whole team was looking at us." I say with anger. He stays calm and explains, "They all knew I liked you, that's why they were looking, they wanted to see how it would go."

"You really think I'm that stupid to believe this." I huff, and shove my arm out of his grip. I started walking away, and I feel relief as I see the common room getting closer and closer. He shouts while still walking faster to get to me, "I really do like you."

"Bullshit!" I shout, before he once again, grabs my wrist to hold me close to him. I only get a second to register what's going on before he pulls me close to his chest and crashes his lips to mine. He cups my face and holds me. My hands stay at my sides while my heart races.

He breaks away when he realizes that I wasn't reciprocating the kiss. He puts his arms down. He sighs then says, "I promise I wouldn't ever use your feelings against you like that. I like you."

He looks sincere. I don't say anything, and I see his cheeks turn a tinge of pink. In a way, he looks sort of defeated and maybe that's what makes me believe him. He stutters, "I'm sorry that I kissed you like that-"

I stand up on tip toes and reach up to wrap my arms around his neck. I cut him off by placing my lips on his. He doesn't waste a second in placing both hands on my waist. He pulls me flush against him, and for a split second I feel like I might faint from how fast my heart is going.

A bright light flashing into my eye, causes me to break away from him. Two prefects are looking at us with shocked expressions. I try to move away from James, but he pulls me closer. I acknowledge that this is how it's going to be like from now on. One of them turns to the other and says, "I told you I heard something."

The other one rolls his eyes and lowers his wand that was blinding me. He sighs, "You two have detention tomorrow, now, go to your common rooms."

Bonus:

I sit at the table for breakfast and already start piling food into my plate, I wasn't ready to fail today's quiz at all, and I definitely wasn't ready for my detention. I start munching on some of my eggs and that's when I see my teammates all looking at me with identical smirks.

I swallow my food and look at them all, weirded out by the fact they were watching me. I ask, "What's made me so interesting all of a sudden?"

"Boot said that he heard that you've got detention tonight." Amelia starts, and everyone's grins widen when I nod my head. Boot himself continued this time, "I heard it's because you were out after curfew snogging Potter."

I flush and pick at my food with a fork. Where does Boot get all this information from. Amos points a finger to my face and teases, "Oh, Look! She's blushing."

I wonder if I can kick Amos off the team right now, I'm sure that I'll find a better seeker somewhere else in Hufflepuff. I scowl at him and blush more. I stutter, "You need to find a new way to get information because that's a complete lie. I wouldn't-"

Luck is always on my side because just at that moment someone slides between me and Amelia, wrapping and arm around my shoulder. Making my friends' grins wider. James presses a kiss to my cheek and says, "Good morning, love."

[jiubilant]

Does Shurri get up to visit frozen Winter(hold) wonderland much to see her pa after the two reconcile?

In some particulars, Shiv thinks, she's sipping tea with a stranger. So is he. But some things haven't changed.

"The game," she announces like a bookie, unfolding the pegboard across the page-strewn desk, "is halatafl—"

"Mind my cup," says the Archmage of Winterhold, and whisks it out of the way with one hand. His face cuts peevish through the steam. "We can't just play draughts?"

"—in the vernacular," Shiv continues virtuously, ignoring him, "known as wolf"—she drops one of the two red-painted pegs into its hole, then taps it with a claw—"and sheep."

She places her second wolf with predatory delicacy, then arranges the rest of the pegs on his side of the board: twenty of them, white as lambkins, to her two. Her father, swathed in the sort of sumptuous silk dressing-gown that he'd once eyed wistfully in Taarie's store—and a frumpy fur rug, because silk's not worth a sneeze in his freezing hold—begins to look interested.

"Ah," he says, smiling with one side of his mouth. "Well. If the odds are in my favor."

Shiv grins at him with all her sharpest teeth.

* * *

"Again?" she asks after the third game.

"Ai," says the Archmage. It's the sort of gusty Velothi exclamation she'd heard every day of her childhood—after climbing down from the roof, usually, or coaxing him to buy her a bag of havreflarn. He turns a despairing smile on her. "It hasn't been an hour?"

"Half." She smiles back with just her eyes. "You might win this time."

The old man makes an eloquent face. "Set the board."

It's one of those northern nights best spent, Shiv thinks drily, in the south. Or playing board games. The stone walls of the study, glacial to the touch, muffle the wailing wind. Ice crusts the eye-shaped window behind the Archmage's desk; it rattles in its frame, battered by the blizzard's white fist. But she's stoked the fire bright, and the little room is warm where the firelight spreads.

It glints on two empty teacups and the Archmage's rings, garnet and gold, as he reaches across the board. His fingers twitch above the pegs. They curl, but don't bend. He watches his hand contort itself like a spider for a moment, patiently, then leans forward in his wheelchair and—with his other hand, the steady one—closes the spasming fingers around one of his sheep.

"If only," he murmurs, amused, "one could magic the pieces to move of their own accord."

One could, in a college for wizards. Almost everyone could. Shiv watches him move the peg. He practices with the palsied hand, stretching it, writing, picking things up and putting them down, for at least an hour a day. He's getting better at it. The letter he'd sent her after his latest fit—apoplexy, he'd called it later, and gently explained that it would likely happen again—had been so scrambled and smudged that she hadn't even finished it before throwing herself at the High Queen's feet, like a trophy pelt, to beg leave of her court.

Now, two months later, he's well enough to stay up late and lose at tafl. She can probably bring up things that might distress him. She hasn't.

"I've been thinking more, of late," he's saying, "on that sort of thing. The, ah, the everyday good that magic could do—the great help it could be to those with, with hands that shake, or bones that ache, and suchlike, if it were only more commonplace." His eyes travel, thoughtful and sharp, across the board—navigating his next three moves, as usual. "My cane leaps into my hand when I drop it. Why doesn't everyone's?"

Within a year, Shiv thinks, every walking-stick in Winterhold will be doing somersaults. "Used to be that Rafe would crawl under tables for it."

"You, too," says the Archmage. A smile creases the side of his face that still moves. "Well, not everyone has a Rafe, or a Shurri."

For a moment, looking at him, Shiv forgets the past ten years: the fantastical old hierophant enthroned in the wheelchair, bejeweled on every finger and robed in brocade like a picture in a book, is just Da. Then she blinks, and she sees in his smile the thing that makes him a stranger.

"You're happy," she says gruffly. It sounds like an accusation. She hadn't meant it to. She hadn't meant to speak at all; she listens to her own voice with vague surprise. "You old sharpster."

"It took some doing." Da moves one of his pieces with a soft, contemplative clack. "Are you?"

Something in her face must answer him, because he hesitates, then lays the palsied hand half-open on the desk. She blinks down at it. Then she puts one hard, scarred hand in it and covers it with the other, so that his fingers close.

"Probably I should have just piked," she says, very seriously, "and taken up toll-collecting."

He laughs. She'd hoped he would. "The dread bandit Pushpin?"

"Bodkin."

She wonders how to tell him that the smell of boiled leather makes her sick. That her mail-shirt's rusting to bits in a Haafing chest. That she's stuffed her sword and all the smaller pigstickers under her pallet, and hasn't polished them all month. Her shield-sisters would look at her askance. Her old drillmasters, Terentius and stern Rikke, would clout her on the head.

Da gives her a long, level look. Then he glances down at the board.

"Do you know," he says, surprised, "I think I've won."

Shiv looks down, then snorts. He has. He'd probably rearranged the pegs when she wasn't looking.

"But, yihla," says the Archmage, not ungently, "we play more than one game in this life—"

"Da."

"—and if you don't like the outcome of the last," the Archmage continues, raising the eyebrow that moves, "you can always—"

She wrinkles her nose like she used to do at his arithmetic lessons. He laughs again and relents.

But he does turn the tafl-board, with a calm and pointed look, so that she finds herself playing sheep.

[jerzwriter]

New Perspective

My entry for @choicesjanuary2024 Day Two: Reflection, Resolutions, Writing a letter to future self, reflecting on aspirations for the year(s) ahead.

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Tobias x Casey Carrick (MC) Featuring: Jackie Varma, Bryce Lahela, SIenna Trinh, Elijah Greene Category: Fluff with a dash of angst Rating: Teen Words: 1,200 Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and the friends stop by Tobias & Casey's before heading out for the night. Once they leave, Casey struggles to say goodbye to her old life as she looks forward to the new. A/N: This story takes place on New Year's Eve 2022 (into 2023). roughly a year and a half after the end of Book 3. It's a month and a half after Tobias & Casey were married.

It was only seven thirty on New Year’s Eve, but the festive mood at Casey & Tobias’s townhome would lead most to believe midnight was moments away. Festively dressed friends bedecked in sequins and satin filled the room as their chatter and laughter filled the air. The drinks were flowing, at least for some.

“Lahela, hand that bottle of Azul back to me before I’m forced to break your hand and your surgical career.”

Bryce smirked mischievously as he toyed with the ornate blue and white bottle, pretending to drop it, which almost put Jackie into cardiac arrest.

“What the hell are you doing!” She hollered. “Don’t you dare spill that!”

Sipping a large glass of Moscato with a giggle, Sienna was amused. “Jackie, no need to worry. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of tequila at Donahue’s later.”

“Yeah, but not this tequila! Do you have any idea how much this shit costs?”

“Why do you think she came here at all,” Casey teased. “It’s strictly for the expensive booze. Free expensive booze."

“Damn right!” Jackie confirmed, to the amusement of her hosts. 

Tobias was sprawled out on an oversized chair in a slightly removed corner of the room, his new wife happily seated upon his lap. While the others looked like they could step onto the pages of Vogue, Tobias and Casey were more suited for the holiday edition of Good Housekeeping. While Casey swirled sparkling cider around in her red plastic cup, Tobias lifted his crystal tumbler and motioned Jackie’s way.

“Think you could pass that down here when you’re done?” He asked

“I’ll be done when it's empty,” she replied, playfully kissing the bottle. “I’m sorry, money bags, but you’re sitting over there all happy with the love of your life. I’ll be damned if I let you separate me from mine!”

“I’d let it go,” Elijah laughed. “I think she may go feral if you try to pry that bottle from her hands.”

“That’s OK,” Tobias shrugged. “I'd rather have a beer anyway.”

Casey downed the last of her cider just before he stood up.

“Want a refill, sweetheart?”

Casey frowned and glumly stared into her cup. “More apple juice. Yey!”

“What are you doing with that Solo cup while the rest of us have the fancy crystal, anyway?” Jackie chastised. “You need to up your game, MacTavish...uh, Carrick.”

But Casey just shrugged as she settled back into the fluffy chair. “If I’m drinking juice on New Year’s Eve, I might use a sippy cup.”

She tried to play it off as a joke, but the tone of her voice had Sienna’s brows knitting in concern. Her eyes met Tobias’s, and he offered a half-smile and an affect that let her know he had it under control. Twenty minutes later, he ushered the semi-buzzed friends out the door. They were off to a night of revelry, but the newlyweds had different plans. Stepping in from the foyer, he placed another log on the fire before heading to Casey. He wrapped his arm around her, and she snuggled into his chest, her hand clasping his old Hopkins sweatshirt.

“What’s the matter, princess?” he asked sincerely. “You haven’t been yourself tonight... wanna talk about it.”

“No,” she answered at once, then had an immediate change of heart. “Yes. I mean... no.”

“OK,” Tobias chuckled. Turning to look at her directly, he continued. "Now, I’m not giving you a choice. What’s up, baby?”

“It’s just...” she tossed her hands in exasperation, then sat back with a sigh. “It’s just that it’s New Year’s Eve, and look it me? I’m wearing sweats that I normally wouldn’t answer the door in, you’re in that ratty old sweatshirt, and I’m practically drinking a juice box.”

“Hey!” He said defensively, “You always liked this sweatshirt.”

Grateful for the levity, Casey smiled, and her mood lightened a bit.

“Forgive me. Your big ol’ pregnant wife is hormonal and moody. In other words, it’s a day that ends in -y.”

“Hey, stop talking shit about my wife,” he said, pulling her closer. “I won’t have that from anyone, not even you.”

Lovingly caressing her hair, he started to think of solutions. “Do you want to join them at Donahues?” he asked. “We’re not exactly banished.”

She shook her head no. “It’ll be packed, not exactly conducive for a pregnant chick. The roads are too dangerous tonight, and, besides, last year, there were so many amateur drunks. If I end up puking, I don’t want any competition.”

“OK, but we could pick up the mood around here if you want. I thought we were going to get dressed up. Break out the good china? Then you told me to stay in my sweats.”

“Yeah,” she groaned. “That's because I didn’t fit into the dress I bought.”  Rubbing her swollen belly, she looked up dolefully. “Our baby’s little growth spurt made it clear they wanted mommy to be comfy, not sexy, tonight.”

“Oh, well, the baby better up their game then because mommy is sexy-as-hell. Nothing they can do to change that.”

She gave a little laugh and took his hand in hers. “I’ll be fine. It’s just that life has changed so much. Last year at this time, the two of us were out painting the damn town red, and now...I don’t know.”

“Well, our little one here was a surprise,” he said while playing with the band on her ring finger. “And I’m sure you weren’t planning on being saddled down with me this soon.”

“Stop!” Casey said playfully hitting his arm. “You know I love being your wife. I love you... and I can’t wait for our baby to arrive. It’s just...” her voice trailed, “I feel like no matter what I say, I'm going to sound ungrateful, and I’m not.”

“Casey, our lives have changed a lot in a short period of time. It’s OK to miss what’s gone, but that doesn’t mean you’re unhappy with where you are. I feel that way sometimes, too.”

“You do?” She asked, annoyed.

“Yeah, I’m allowed, too.”

“I suppose, but in fairness, you got to have a lot more debaucherous New Year’s than me, old man! And besides, I’m the human incubator, not you.”

With a beguiling smile, he held her hand tighter, lovingly placing the other atop her bump. “I appreciate you being the human incubator more than you’ll ever know. So much that I’m going to let that old man comment pass, and I’m still going to spoil the shit out of you tonight.”

“You will,” she said with a genuine smile this time.

“Of course. I made your favorite steak burritos, and I even got you cannolis from Bova’s.”

The fireplace crackled, its dim light casing a romantic glow as she reached over and kissed his ear. “I was thinking there are some other ways you could spoil me, too.”

She didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “Now you’re talking my language. But you still have to eat first. Want to rest here while I finish dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

With a quick hug and peck on her forehead, Tobias was off to the kitchen, and Casey had an idea. She went down the hall to the den, pulled out a sheet of paper, and began to write.

When Tobias returned with a tray of food in his hand, to his delight, he found his wife was in a completely different state of mind. He kissed her forehead with a smile.

"You look better, was it the thought of my steak burritos, or...," he wiggled his brow. "Is it thought of my burrito after that did the trick?"

"It's you," she laughed, pulling him close for a kiss. "It's you... and me. Honestly, this New Year's Eve is probably one of the best ones I'll ever have."

With a relieved breath, he kissed her once more, joy on his face when it ended.

"Well, I know it's the best one of mine," he smiled. "Because I have all I need."

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.

[talisidekick]

At some point I let myself slip. I hit my peak before I graduated college. It's been downhill from there. I got an associates degree in computer programming but failed to use it, failed every interview. It's been 8 years since, I think I've forgotten most of it. Yet the 40k CAD loan to get it remains. 40k for a piece of paper that every employer finds useless, and now it doesn't even say my name on it. Worse still, what I was taught doesn't even translate in the industry in my area that well. Employers want C and C++. Two languages I don't know that well because academia didn't teach them.

I was an impressive writer in university before I dropped out. I've read my own papers and my current writing quality has dropped.

I've got no art skill. Not sure why I'm trying.

I was, at one point, a pretty decent gamer. Not now. Once again, my quality of play has dropped.

I was a pretty decent martial artist when I was younger. Not now. My muscle mass has suffered greatly and I'm out of practice.

It kind of feels like everything I prided myself in ... I just couldn't keep up. Now I'm sitting here at 30 wondering where the fuck I went wrong. And I kind of know where. I was hiding in skills, running from the darker things behind me. I wasn't being myself. All I achieved wasn't because they were things I wanted to do. I had to do them. Where I went 'wrong' was I figured myself out.

And now I'm sitting here in a life of half skills. Half skilled at gaming. Half skilled at programming. Half skilled at martial arts. Shit skill at art (only just started). And I don't know where to go. What to do. 30 years to end up at square one on the board of life with the debts and problems of someone half way through. I want to be worth something, have some skill worth noting, and I tried but here I am mediocre at everything. Unremarkable. All my friends have skills they can be proud of: programming, accounting, piloting, artistry. I got ... nothing.

People talk about being neurodivergent and having a special skill or special interest. What's mine? I got ADHD, OCD, Autistic and ... fuck all to show for it. Worse still, I'm unemployed and have been for almost six months. Resume's sent out and silence back.

I'm not doing so great. I have to figure something out. I want to live this life. I have goals: FFS, GCS, look cute, be happy. I'm just stuck not knowing how to start. Where to start. I just know I need to start now.

This blog might go silent for a bit. I ... guess I have a life to rebuild. To make ... mine.