#okay last one i'm going back to my work now

[my-castles-crumbling]

name - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 375

James had never even once brought up the idea of either of them changing their names when they got married. He didn't much like the idea of being a Black, if he was honest, but he knew that Regulus had more of an attachment to the name than he would ever let on. Though the other man had long ago cast aside most of his family members, along with their traditions and expectations, he still, for some reason, had a hard time letting go of some things. As if a small part of the Noble and Ancient House refused to die. So James didn't push, and accepted that they would both keep their old surnames when they married.

Until one day, as they were working on the more-thrilling parts of wedding planning, the topic came up.

"We need to get a Marriage Certificate from the Ministry," Regulus said, furrowing his brow, as he looked over the meter-long checklist he held in front of him. "Oh, and I'll get a Name Change Application while we're there. Shall we go tomorrow?"

James took a few moments to process before he looked up. "Name Change Form?" he asked heart leaping a bit. "Wh-why?"

Gray eyes looked at him hesitantly. "I'm taking your last name. I thought you...you knew this...Shit, is that okay?" Regulus asked softly, as if he thought James would be mad about such a thing.

"Fuck." James stood from his chair and moved to scoop Regulus into his arms, ignoring his weak protests. "You mean it? You want to be Regulus Potter?" He did his very best not to drop Regulus with his glee, laughing and pressing kisses to his fiancé's face.

"I thought I did," Regulus said, rolling his eyes and swatting at him lightly. "Ugh. Yes, I do, for some strange reason. Now, stop this, we still have to talk about the cake. Mr. Gateau wanted to talk to us about final decoration details for the frosting-"

"Can it say Mister and Mister Potter?" James asked dreamily, setting Regulus back in his chair and grinning madly.

Regulus looked at him with a mixture of amusement and fond annoyance. "Fine. But only if I'm the first Mister Potter," he said, smirking.

"Of course, my love."

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 6

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content and language, being sick? overthinking? p being melodramatic Wordcount: 4.4K A/C: was feeling inspired :)) anyway pls be patient with me posting, i'm applying to schools rn!! anyway this went a direction i hadn't planned but... uhh... i have no excuses i was going with the flow. anyway enjoy x (also what a scare yesterday just hoping p is doing fine and i'm sure everything's okay!)

-

Before London

You need a ride to work tmr?

I don’t but thank you x

My eyes roam the texts as they had repeatedly since last night, trying to decipher each letter as if some ancient code I couldn’t understand. Is she seriously gonna be like that? Like she wasn’t the one who pulled me in. She kissed me. Why was she taking it out on me now? I don’t got time for this anyway, to be stressing about something like this. 

I hadn’t seen Izara since Saturday, not at work, not in the apartment building, hell, I’d even gone to the gym every morning praying that she might show up but it was as if the girl had disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew she was avoiding me, and I guess she had reason but fuck, I thought she’d be better than that. Not a word since Saturday, other than those strange cryptic texts. Fine. Be that way.

“My favourite girls!!” Trey’s voice blatantly interjects my spinning thoughts as me, Arike, Satou and Lou are sat at a circular table, eating lunch. Not that I had been eating per say, more so poking my fork here and there trying to stomach a piece of chicken now and then. The heaviness in the pit of my stomach made it hard to eat at all.

I lift my eyes, hoping Izara would be trailing behind the man as usual. But it’s Ava instead, holding a notepad and taking quick steps to keep up. I mean I knew it wasn’t Iz before even looking up - there was an uncomfortable void of heels tapping against the hardwood as the pair approach us eagerly.

“Oh hey!” Lou smiles from her chair next to me. “What’s up?”

“So we were thinking,” Trey starts, leaning forward against the table. “If y’all could film some clips answering comments on your own since our dear Zari isn’t here.”

“Uh, where is she anyway?” I ask as casually as I can - though the way everyone’s heads snap to me tells me it was a feeble attempt.

Trey’s dark brown eyes study me for a while with an expression I can’t quite read before answering. “She’s home sick, poor girl.”

Bullshit. She’s trying to avoid me, I know it. I can’t believe it, I thought she would be more mature than this, than faking being “sick” just to get away from an awkward conversation with me. Why was she assuming how I felt anyway? Like the kiss mattered to me? Like I’d want more?

I mean all that was true. God did it matter and God did I want, no, need more. Much more. But she didn’t know that, so why was she assuming. I thought we were friends. You know what this is? Bad friendship.

“Oh damn, hope she feels better,” Arike answers for me, noticing the way I’m gone in my thoughts.

“Y-yeah for sure,” I mumble, letting out a frustrated sigh. “I’mma go to the weight room.”

I place the fork down on my half eaten plate harshly, getting up abruptly making my irritation quite clear to everyone around me.

“Paige you gotta eat a little more,” Lou encourages but I shake my head.

“Nah, m’ not hungry,” I murmur and take my plate back, preparing to take out my aggravation at some weights, ignoring the way Arike and the rest of the girls eye me as I walk away.

-

“So how are we feeling about the first game soon?” My dad’s voice echoes through the speaker but I barely hear him, pacing my apartment’s living room. Truthfully I hadn’t thought much about the upcoming game. I knew that was bad. That I should be ecstatic, or scared as hell, but I didn’t feel anything else besides the dread of what happened between me and Iz. 

Matter of fact, I hadn’t been able to think of anything else but the way she looked all night, the way her green smoked out eyes twinkled at me, the way she threw her head back when she laughed at my jokes, when she pressed her front against me. The way her full breasts felt against my chest, the way her round ass felt under my hands. God, the whimper she let out when I squeezed it as gently as I could.

“Paige?”

“Uh what?” I mumble, ears burning, completely forgotten about the call with my dad.

“What’s going on with you?” His secure, steady voice asks, grounding me.

“Nothin’ dad,” I murmur, rubbing my eyes and looking out the window into the street, eyeing every dark haired woman just in case they were Izara.

“Paige Madison.”

I groan. I might be 23-years-old but my dad’s stern voice turns me into a teenager without fail each time.

“You’re comin’ to the first game still, right?”

“Yes, of course,” he says, like it’s obvious. “Why?”

“Nothin’, just miss you,” I mumble, coming up with an excuse for my low mood - though it wasn’t far off. Everytime I felt sad or anxious I just wanted my dad.

“I miss you too, kid. You know you just say the word and I’m there, okay?”

“No I know, I know. I’m just tired I think,” I sigh, my chest warming at my dad’s comforting words.

“Uh oh,” he starts. “Paige Madison… Don’t tell me.”

“Huh? Tell you what?”

“Is this about a girl?” He asks.

I pause, coming to a halt with my pacing. “Hu- I- What?!”

“You always say “I’m just tired” when you got a girl on your mind,” my dad laughs, doing a horrible impression of me.

“No!” I argue a little too fast and a little too passionately. “I mean, no. Just tired. Long practice.”

“Mhm alright,” my dad mumbles, an amused tone in his voice that irritates me in a way only a parent could. “So no girl?”

“No dadddd,” I whine like a teenage girl. “There’s no girl.”

I didn’t like lying to him. I wanted to tell him all about Izara. I knew my dad would adore that girl. He always said I needed a woman to keep me in check - Izzie did just that. But I also didn’t want to tell my dad about this girl knowing it likely wasn’t going to go anywhere, especially now that she had been hiding from me since our kiss.

“Okay dad tell Drew I said hi and I’ll play Fortnite with him tomorrow,” I say into the phone, ready to hang up.

“Okay kid, love you.”

“Love you dad.”

The silence is deafening, again. Like it used to be before I became friends with Iz. I felt alone, anxious, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn’t turn off. I thought she was mature enough to handle this like two adults. If she just wanted to be friends then she could just tell me, at least we could continue our friendship like that.

But usually when I kissed a girl, they didn’t run away like this. Quite the opposite. Did she not like the way I kissed? Was I off my game? Maybe the tongue was too much? Maybe she didn’t like my outfit. I’m a good kisser, I know I am. Good enough to get girls into bed with ease. So what is the trouble now? And I also know that that was the best kiss I had ever had. That our lips fit together just right. Fuck this girl had me going out of my mind. And now I just had to wait for her to reach out, it didn’t feel fair.

No. It wasn’t fair. Why did I have to wait for her? Who said I had to? Fuck that.

Too frenzied to even throw a shirt over my sports bra, I walk downstairs determined, knocking on Izara’s door angrily, preparing a speech of everything I’d been thinking the past few days: Look, Izzie, we’re both adults. You clearly think the kiss was a mistake. But avoiding me and acting like this is ridiculous and stupid and we don’t need to be acting like teenage-

“Paige?” 

Izzie opens the door, voice weak and nasally. She’s in a pale pink pyjama set, hair up in a clip and nose red and irritated. She wasn’t lying. Definitely not. She is sick. 

Quick, improvise.

“Uh, hey,” I mumble, my cheeks turning pink, her red eyes staring up at me reminiscent of Saturday night and the moments before our kiss on the balcony. “Trey told me you were sick.”

She chuckles, looking down at her dishevelled appearance and returns her gaze to me. “How did you know,” she jokes. She’s acting like nothing happened between us. How could she act like that? I guess it’s better than if she actually had been avoiding me.

“Was worried, haven’t seen you since… The party,” I say unsurely.

“Uh… Yeah. Crazy party huh,” Izzie says almost to herself. “Well, anyway, thanks for checking in but I’m perfectly okay. Just a cold and I think it’s passing.”

She begins to close the door but I grab it, holding it open.

“You been resting?” I ask concerned.

The girl shrugs. “Well at first but now I’m just getting bored so I’ve been doing some work from home.”

“Izzie…”

“What?”

“You gotta be restin’ if you’re sick,” I argue, which makes the girl roll her eyes.

“I’m fine Paige,” she answers, but I step inside.

“Let me in.”

“No, you’ll get sick,” she complains but I shake my head.

“I won’t. I’m built different.”

Izzie laughs, deciding it was pointless to try to argue and lets me in.

Her apartment is spotless as always, laptop open on her dining table with schedules and notebooks piled next to it. This bitch hadn’t been resting, no she’s been working and cleaning.

“Izzie!” I groan and close the laptop.

“Shoes! Shoes shoes shoes!” She yelps, voice breaking as she does. 

“‘M sorry!” I gasp and take my sneakers off quickly, placing them neatly by the entrance. I feel her eyes fixed on me. 

“Do you ever wear a shirt?” She asks, blowing her stuffy nose, which makes me let out a single laugh.

“Why, you want me to?” I ask confidently, easily falling into the same effortlessness as before.

My words make the girl blush. Perhaps the kiss wasn’t that bad? Fuck, I don’t know. Maybe I should just ask… Ask what?! If the kiss was good?! Bro… Get a grip.

“Well you’re going to get cold, it’s freezing here,” she tells me, turning away and walking to the couch where pillows are neatly arranged, an expensive looking blanket neatly folded on the armrest. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it definitely was not cold, that her apartment was scorching hot already making me sweat.

“Yo, you’re kidding right?” I laugh as I watch her somewhat pitifully curling up against the corner of the couch on her single throw pillow.

“What?”

“Iz, you’re sick!”

“Wow, thanks for rubbing it in my face,” she says nasally, blowing her nose again.

“Bro, that pillow is just sad! You need a nest,” I gasp, walking to her bedroom.

“Wait wait wait, it’s a mess in there,” she yelps, following after me. Mess, it is not. There is one hoodie on the bed, which is unmade. That’s it. I pull the heavy blanket off her bed, grabbing all four pillows and walking decisively to the couch with the dark-haired girl on my tail.

“What are you doing?” She asks as I begin to set up each pillow into a nest against the corner of the couch. She’s grabbing my arm and peeking at my actions from behind my back, clearly confused.

“I’m makin’ you a nest,” I explain, brows furrowing as I focus. This is serious business. “My stepmom does this when we’re sick.”

“A nest?” Izzie laughs.

“Yeah, get in,” I order, grabbing the girl’s shoulders and sitting her down. “Now lie back. Get comfy.”

Hesitating for a moment, Izzie curls up against the pillows as I place the blanket over her, watching as she gets comfortable with a smile on her face.

“There you go,” I coo, trying her forehead which is burning hot. “You have a fever Iz, I’m gonna get you some meds.”

“Paige, you don’t have to do this,” she sighs, looking up at me softly. I want to lean down and kiss her again. Instead, I bring my hand to her warm cheek, stroking it softly. She looks vulnerable, gentle for once. It made me want her even more.

“Lemme take care of you ma.”

She doesn’t comment on the nickname, matter of fact there’s a hint of a smile on her face when she nods. 

“The cabinet above the microwave.”

“Got it,” I tell her, pretty much scurrying to the kitchen, gathering everything you could think - water, painkillers, nose spray, I even cut up some fruit for her. But when I return the poor girl is in her nest, cuddled up, fast asleep. It hurts my heart to wake her up, but she needs these meds in her.

“Iz,” I murmur carefully, brushing dark locks away from her face. She blinks herself awake, rubbing her face. Everything about it makes me want to wrap her in my arms and never let anyone close in case they hurt her. 

“Fuck, I fell asleep,” she yawns. “I’m sorry I’m a mess.”

“You’re sick ma,” I remind her, sitting next to the girl on the couch and watching as she takes her medicine.

“This is so embarrassing,” she murmurs, sipping on the glass of water. Her cheeks are bright red, hair undone and eyes tired - I swear it’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen her look.

“Izara,” I say sternly. “You’re sick, lemme help.”

“You’re gonna get sick too, and you have your first game soon love.”

“I’ll be fine, I got mad immune system powers.”

She giggles. “Immune system powers?”

“You heard,” I nod, fighting a grin. She coughs a little.

“Paige?”

Oh God. She’s gonna bring up the kiss now. I know it. I can feel it.

“Y-yeah?”

She takes a deep breath. “Can we watch Lady and The Tramp?”

-

“How are you already crying?” Paige asks with a giggle, leaning against the opposite corner of the couch. 

“Lady as a puppy always makes me cry! How could it not?” I sniffle, wiping my nose, watching the scene where Lady doesn’t want to sleep in her dog bed, the poor puppy crying for her dad. 

The blonde is chewing on an apple in her sports bra and black Nike sweats, muscles grown more prominent over her training period with the Wings, arms bigger, shoulders wider, outline of the muscles on her abdomen faintly visible even as she slouches. 

“What kinda names are Darling and Jimmy Dear anyway?” She asks, dramatically frustrated.

“Paige, you’re slow,” I laugh. “Lady thinks those are their names because they call each other those as like, pet names darling.”

The blond thinks for a while, and then grins. “Oh.”

We both burst into a choir of laughter, though it feels rough against my scratchy throat. Still, I could feel the medication already making me feel better. Or maybe it was the company.

My mind had been a mess after I escaped the party. I felt embarrassed, childish even for running away like I did, leaving Paige high and dry. Once I woke up the next morning it was hard to figure out what truly happened and what was my mind playing tricks on me. But I knew the kiss really took place the moment I remembered it, the weight of Paige’s kiss a mere memory on my lips. One wouldn’t forget a kiss like that. It was impossible.

Getting sick had been a lucky coincidence, giving me time to think and take some distance from the situation. I found it impossible to figure out where my desire for Paige and desire for physical contact differed. I couldn’t tell if I was just lonely. Or if I really liked her. I never considered it, me having feelings (if you could call it that) for a girl again. But now as she sat there, looking like that, I wanted nothing but to get on her. To climb onto her lap and kiss her again like we had on the balcony. Without the drunken hue, just us feeling each other.

Even as sick as I am, the familiar burn and ache that always showed up around the blonde begins to grow between my legs, making me squirm. Fuck, maybe I did like her. All I knew I definitely wasn’t in a place to start anything - that no matter what this was it would have to stay casual. I haven’t gotten rid of the ghost of my past relationship. No, not at all. I could see it looming around every corner, peeking through windows, just right outside my line of vision. I wasn’t ready.

Paige’s hand comes over to my bare feet poking out of the blanket, bringing them to her lap and beginning to rub them almost as if subconsciously, like unaware of the entire thing. Except her cheeks turn red as she does. My entire body relaxes, and I let her. For almost half of the movie she massages each toe, the arch of my foot, my ankle, leaving goosebumps everywhere. 

“I’m cold,” I complain, pulling my feet back under the blanket, feeling like a block of ice.

“I’m so hot,” Paige groans, now more invested in the movie, making small comments here and there.

“Lucky,” I groan which makes her snicker.

“Scooch,” The blonde tells me. Before I can resist she’s made her way under the blanket, into the nest, lying behind me and wrapping an arm around my waist. I fit in her arms perfectly, like I was made to be her counterpart, born to be in her arms like this, every curve of her body slotting with mine just right. My ass pressing into her, the blonde’s chin brushing against my shoulder, hot breath tickling against my ear nearly making me moan. Fuck.

“I- I thought you were hot,” I mumble, beginning to lose my composure.

“But you’re cold,” she murmurs into my ear, nose nuzzling into my hair as we keep watching the movie. Though I can’t concentrate. Even on my favourite movie. My head spinning too fast, speeding up even more when my pyjama top hikes up and Paige’s fingertips rub circles against my lower stomach, dangerously close to dipping into my pyjama pants.

“P-paige,” I almost whisper, my voice coming out breathy.

“Mhm?” The blonde’s voice is shaky too, a hoarse hum straight into my ear making me even wetter than I already am.

“You’re gonna get sick,” I remind her, my chest heaving.

“I’m good,” she breathes out, shifting a little, her head fitting just in the crook of my neck. Perfectly. “Are you?”

She’s asking for consent, I can tell. To dip her fingers underneath the band, to slide them into my panties. And God I want to give it to her. To let her have her way with me. The temptation is growing nearly impossible to resist.

“I-” I nearly say it. But then I shift to my back, to meet her gaze. Paige’s face is flushed, nostrils flaring as she breathes, hand remaining on my bare stomach. “How are you feeling about the game?”

“Oh, uhh,” Paige is taken aback, pulling her hand back to my dismay, bringing it to her jaw and rubbing it. “I mean, I haven’t really thought about it if I’m honest? I’m excited to see my dad and Dorka.”

“She went to Uconn with you, right?”

The blonde nods. “I mean issa big moment for sure, but I just wanna take it one day at a time.”

I hesitate. “Are you not nervous at all?”

She lets out a single laugh and looks around the room. “Nah I am. Just tryna keep my mind off it.”

I nod, understanding. I wish I could carry some of her worry, I could tell she was more nervous than she let on. But instead of talking I slide my hand into hers, which seems to comfort the girl more than words, her blue eyes locking with mine. She’s thinking, mulling something over in her head. I can tell.

“The party… Iz, I-”

“Shh,” I tell her before she can keep going, my throat going dry, the ache between my thighs nearly painful. I wasn’t ready to talk, at all. All I wanted was to feel it again, the weight of her lips on mine. So bad I felt dizzy.

“Nah, Izzie, c’mon. I think we both feel we-”

“Paige?”

“Yeah mama?”

“Kiss me.”

-

It makes no sense. But I don’t hesitate. Leaning down, my lips crashing into hers with such hunger it makes me uncharacteristically whine. My body is on fire, every inch burning up as our lips slide against one another, boxers growing damp quickly. My hand carefully holds her cheek, like the girl next to me might break. But to my surprise she pulls me on top of her by the back of my head.

I’m tasting for every inch of her, slowing down and taking my time, unlike that drunken mess on the balcony. Somehow this is even better, the kiss of the century even. Her body is cool to the touch, a sign of the fever going down. But I barely register, kissing her bottom lip affectionately, my hands holding her face. Izzie responds, her teeth pulling on my lip harshly making me groan. Her warm tongue brushes over it, soothingly.

I open my mouth further, my tongue meeting hers, other hand moving to the bare waist of the girl underneath me. I can’t believe this is real. That I’m kissing Izara. It feels like some type of dream, but the ache between my legs proves that every second is real. That she’s really underneath me. And If I’m feeling my core throbbing just from the kiss, I’m certain the dark haired girl feels something similar and the idea of my girl feeling such pain and not having it taken care of breaks my heart.

So my thumb dips underneath the band of her satin pyjama pants, feeling the lace of her underwear as it does. Zari lets out a shaky whimper, her eyes fluttering open.

“Paige,” she whines, brows furrowing.

“Yeah?” I ask breathlessly, leaning down to kiss under her ear which makes her squirm under my weight.

“C-can you keep your hands,” another moan as I suck on her neck, careful not to leave a mark. Izara didn’t seem like the type of woman you marked. “On top of the clothes.”

God she’s gonna be the death of me. But I oblige happily, pulling my hand back to her bare waist.

“Whatever you want Izzie,” I say between ragged breaths, making the girl moan as I keep kissing her neck. Izara’s hands wrap around my back, long acrylics scratching at the skin there.

“Shit,” I cuss under my breath, feeling like I might die or cum in my pants if I don’t get to have her. Still, I keep kissing her, fully aware what a privilege it was just to be on her like this. I do everything to try to stay composed, to keep my cool, to focus on putting on my best show as I return back to sloppily kissing her lips, shifting on top of her, my other hand beside Izzie’s face to hold me up. 

As I move my hips, my knee presses into her core, against the sheer fabric of the pajamas making her gasp straight into my mouth. I repeat the movement with purpose now, and can feel the heat radiating off her, the fabric between her legs growing damp. She wants this just as bad as I do.

“Lemme keep going, please,” I whimper, brows furrowed and barely conscious of what is happening at this point. “Lemme help ma, won’t even touch you.”

Her face is contorted with need, chest heaving desperately. 

“It hurts don’t it? Lemme help,” I coo, my lips wrapping around her earlobe and sucking softly. “Please.”

“Paige,” she whimpers, her body shaking with need. But I feel her shift, legs wrapping around my body. “Please.”

Oh God, I might actually cum in my sweats.

I kiss her all over, her neck, bare shoulders, mind spinning with need, my cunt growing wetter and wetter with every moan that leaves Izzie’s lips as I push my knee against her core, gently, so as to not hurt her.

“P-paige,” she moans my name. My name. 

“Ohh fuck,” I cuss, squeezing my eyes shut at the way her voice sounds, deep and gravelly, turning more high-pitched each time I grind my knee into her cunt.

“Let me get you right ma, please,” I beg breathlessly, shaking my head to myself trying to keep myself present. “Please, Iz, would do anything to fuck you,”

She’s speechless, whimpering desperately, but I can feel her muscles turning tense from the pleasure I’m giving her, legs shaking gently.

“Would be so good, just lemme eat that pussy,” I moan into her ear. “Gimme five.”

Pulling back, I meet her gaze. Her contorted face, dark brows furrowed and lips parted, green eyes blown out black. This is the most beautiful she has ever looked. Easily. Could look at her like this forever.

I can tell she’s considering, mulling it over in her head. Just as her lips part the ring of her phone interrupts the moment, the obnoxious sound blaring over the movie playing in the back. Of course. I can never have anything good. Just little tastes.

“Fuck,” Izzie mumbles and abruptly sits up as if suddenly thinking clearly. I climb off her, watching as she fumbles to find her phone.

“Here,” I catch it, handing it to her. It’s Kiran, her brother.

“Fuck, I promised I’d help him with his paper,” she groans, still trying to catch her breath.

“Uh, okay,” I murmur, attempting to catch mine, awkwardly shifting further on the couch, watching as the girl gets up and walks into the bedroom, closing the door behind her, leaving me there once again. Wanting more.

-

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[moody-alcoholic]

Break in

John Price x reader. WC: 1.9k. CW: break in, canon typical violence.

_____

You hate the winter, it gets dark too quickly. The temperature drops and you hate the cold. The worst thing about winter though is how much it makes you miss your husband. Everyone at work talks about getting ready to spend time with their families, or family and friends coming to visit them. You don’t even know if you’ll see John over the Christmas period. 

Last year he left on boxing day, the year before that he was gone for over a week until the 2nd of January. He missed Christmas and new years. You thought you would be used to it by now, him being away but it doesn’t seem to be getting any easier. At least this time he’s in London, he’s on a base most of the time. He keeps telling you if he’s lucky he’ll be there until way after the new year. 

That means he comes home at the end of each day, you get to spend time with him and do things you’ve not been able to do in previous years like go shopping for christmas gifts. It doesn’t matter though, it shouldn’t matter, it’s just one day of the year. You could just do a delayed christmas again, it never feels the same though. 

You hitch your bag over your shoulder as you walk through the gate to your townhouse. It’s way later than you would normally get home but the house is still dark so clearly John isn’t back yet either. You’re carrying shopping bags in each hand putting one down so you can fish in your pocket for the house key. You close the gate behind you and make it up to the front door. 

Your body freezes as you reach out for the lock. Your breathing stops, eyes going wide. Goosebumps rise over your skin. 

The door has been kicked in, you can see the damage on the wood where they’ve used a tool to pry it open. 

The shopping bag you’ve got round your wrist is pulling your hand down. You don’t know what to do, you should call the police. No, you should call John, maybe he broke in, forgot his keys? But then why didn’t he call you. There’s a pretty sophisticated security system John installed when you first bought the place. You would have got a security notification if it was activated. 

You drop the bags on the floor backing up down the steps and reaching into your pocket for your phone. Your hands shake as you walk back down the path until you hit the gate. It takes you two attempts to click John's name before you finally bring the phone up to your ear. He won’t pick up the first time, you let it ring out for a few seconds then call him right back. Then he’ll know it’s important. 

“Hey, love. Give me a second.” He says before there’s silence on the like, it feels like the silence is lasting minutes not seconds. You feel a lump rising in your throat, a breath hitches in your throat. You feel silent tears run down your face as you look into the house windows for movement.

“Sorry love. I know I’m late-”

“John, there's someone in the house.” You say before he can finish his sentence. You don’t have time, your heart picks up in your chest. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, the tone of his voice is darker.

“I came home and the door was kicked in.” This time your words come out with a sob. You feel sick.

“Okay, I'm on my way.” You hear shuffling, the sound of keys. You don’t know what to do, panic rises in you.

“Should I call the police?” You ask. 

“No. I’m coming okay, 10 minutes, I'll be there I promise.” You hear him snap his fingers. “Don’t go in the house okay. Stay outside.” You hear a car door close, then another.

“Okay,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I’ll be there soon.” He says then hangs up. You’re still looking in the house for movement, you don’t see anything, the rooms dark. You shiver as a cold breeze moves in, it could snow soon, you don’t want to be outside when it snows. 

…

John turns the normally 15 minute drive into less than ten, even down the congested London roads he breaks several traffic laws to get home. He’ll deal with the fines later, but the last thing he needs is to get pulled over now. 

“What if-” “Don’t even fucking say it.” He snaps at Ghost sitting next to him. His hands grip the steering wheel as he turns down the street towards his house. The place is quiet, it’s almost 9pm. He parks up pulling in so fast he almost hits another car. He can see you, stood on the pavement outside the house, your face red with tears, your arms wrapped around your chest.

They both Jump out of the car and John makes a bee line towards you. His hands come up to cup your face. 

“You’re okay, go wait in the car.” he says brushing your tears away with his thumbs. You nod letting out another sob, he watches as you head over to the car getting in the back.

“Take the top floor, I’ll sweep the ground.” He says to Ghost as he walks through the gate towards the house. John takes the lead removing the sidearm from its holster bringing it into his hands. He toes open the door, the house is dark, there’s no sound, they could be gone already. 

Ghost is silent on his feet moving up the stairs as John continues down the corridor to the kitchen. He brings the weapon up to his eyeline as he adjusts to the darkness. They have an advantage here, they know the layout of the house better than the intruders, hopefully.  

Ghost finds the first guy on the top floor. He’ll be working his way down now. As soon as John is done he will work his way up. The back door was still locked but it could have been locked from the inside without a key. There’s no mess, the place hasn’t been ransacked. They weren't looking for valuables.

The ground floor is clear as John works his way up to the first floor. He heads straight for his home office, maybe they were looking for a different type of valuable. 

John finds the second guy in the spare bedroom. Tying him up and throwing him in a closet with tape over his mouth. No need to shed blood in his home, besides gives him something to do tonight other than paperwork.

He meets up with Ghost outside his office pushing the door open together. The window is wide open with the whole place being ransacked. Ghost walks into the room, looking down out the window. John sighs, they’ve missed one and he has no idea what they could have been looking for. Ghost turns to look at him, putting his pistol away. John already knows what he wants to say.

“Don’t fucking say it.” He sighs putting his own pistol away

…

You’re sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea in your hands. John said the place was clear that they didn’t find anyone. Maybe they got spooked when you came home, heard you and ran. That's what you tell yourself to calm your nerves. John walks into the room, he comes over to the sofa and sits down next to you. 

His arm goes round your back and you lean into him. 

“You did great.” He says rubbing your thigh with his other hand. You don’t know what to say. Someone broke into your house, even with all the security measures John put in place someone got past them and invaded your home. 

You’re not even thirsty but you bring the hot tea up to your lips anyway taking a sip letting it burn your throat. 

“What if you weren’t here?” You say, your voice is quiet, your head dipped down as more tears come. The panic and adrenaline gone your mind is filled with what ifs. 

“Don’t worry about that, I have things in place.” His hand comes up to your chin pulling your face up to look at him as you put the tea back in your lap. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

You don’t believe him, it’s going to be a while before you’re going to feel safe in your own home. Even though whoever was here was gone before John got home, they were still here. It could have been so much worse. 

You lean forward putting the cup of tea on the coffee table, it just tastes bitter anyway. His hand rubs your back almost like he’s trying to rub the tension out your muscles. You close your eyes his arms wrap around you as he leans back into the sofa. 

“You’re safe I promise. I would never ever let anything happen to you.” He kisses the top of your head. You let out a long breath, that you believe but it’s not always that simple.

“Will you stay? Please don’t leave, at least not for tonight.” 

“I will, I’m going to be here with you.”  You turn in his arms to look up at him, his deep blue eyes blinking down at you. He leans down pressing his lips to yours. You let yourself sink into the fermilia kiss, his tongue brushing yours as his hands run up and down your body. This is where you feel safe, in his arms, with his touch. 

The knock on the door pulls you out of the kiss, he turns to look. 

“Let me go chat with him then we’ll go to bed okay?” He says his thumb coming to brush the tears escaping your eyes. You nod sitting back up straight.

He’s not gone for long, coming back in and offering you his hand. You take it and he guides you up to bed, his hands don’t leave you, running up and down your body as you make it to the room. He helps you change, pressing kisses round your neck and shoulders, his fingers brushing hair out your eyes and tears when they fall. 

Eventually you crawl into bed together, he rolls over to turn his bedside light off, the only light left on in the room. 

“Leave it on.” You say, you’re not sure why, you just don’t want to be in the dark.

“Okay, whatever you need love.” He says pulling your back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing in your ears.

“I will always be here. Even when it feels like I’m hundreds of miles away I will always be here for you.” He says as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words, even if you’re doubtful, it’s what you need to hear. 

“I love you.” You say as he squeezes you tighter.

“I love you too. You’re safe, you always will be, I promise.” His hand moves down to your waist pulling you against him further. “Get some sleep, I'll be here with you. I’m not leaving your side.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, I’ll protect you, forever. You’re safe, just get some rest.” He nuzzles his face into your neck. You try to stay awake, fighting the sleepiness that comes over you as he runs his hands over you. You can feel his heartbeat, his warm breath in your ear. 

At least you’re not outside in the cold, you’re warm and safe in his arms. Strangers broke into your home but you know it won’t happen again because John won’t let it happen again. 

____ It was supposed to be short but I don't know when to stop.

[jifloulette]

heads up . . ! not proofread.. 0.7k wrds!

you should be used to these midnight break-ins of shidou by now. he was your boyfriend after all and you didn't really tell him that he wasn't allowed to do it, you just gave him a reminder to text you if he were to do so. but him texting you meant giving you a heads up at least an hour before he was going to break in! though this attitude of your lover was something you were already familiar with..

now here he was, knocking on your bedroom window ever so quietly as to not wake up anyone else inside the house. you had just read the message he sent you three minutes ago and now he was already here, you knew he was fast in terms of running but to have walked that long from his place to yours in that small amount of time and without sweating seemed absolutely impossible??

"heyyyy baby!", shidou said in a low yet excited tone. he gives you a quick peck on the lip before going inside your bedroom. you looked obviously annoyed and he doesn't know why, he did give you a message before climbing up to the second floor of the house... "why'd you come here in such a short notice? you could've at least given me a bit of time to clean up and look good, you know!" you scold him to which he laughs and responds by giving you another quick peck on your forehead. "what were you doing here anyways? yer room's so messy..", he asks to which you just scoff and go back to your laptop, working on finishing this project of yours that was supposed to be due during christmas break, who even gives projects during christmas anyway??

it didn't even reach his usual three minute mark of bothering you before he pulled you out of your chair to a tight embrace on your bed, he seemed much more needy than last time but who you were to worry about that now? you were already working on something and here was your big baby of a boyfriend holding you in his arms as if it was a lifeline of his. "shidou! i'm literally working on the same project that i was doing when you barged here the last few times this week!", you remind him as you try to get off of him but really, your strength couldn't compare to his so it was useless. "okay okay, but do you reaaally need to be working on that now? ya could just do it the second i leave which would be in another hour or so!"

this was like a regular thing for him now, to give you a message five minutes before knocking on your window, then pulling you aside whatever you were working on after waiting at least three minutes, and then you'll just stay in his embrace the whole time he was there. that's how frequently these midnight break-ins occurred, you had memorized how long shidou took to send you a chat and to climb up to your bedroom. "how'd you even get here so quickly anyways.. it's at least a few kilometers from here to yours and you sent that message 3 minutes before already knocking at my window?" you ask, "well, i was already in front of your house when i sent it, just waited a bit before getting up here" he replied before giving you a kiss on your forehead. and before you knew it, you were already fast asleep on his chest, your project being long forgotten once again. even if shidou really wanted to hold you in his arms for as long as the night lasted, he was bound to be caught by your parents if he did. so once he knew that you were deep in your slumber, he laid you on your bed and put a blanket on top of you. but before he left, he needed to do one last thing.

when you woke up, you could've swore your bedroom did not look this.. clean? or unorganized? it looked like your boyfriend did a semi-good job of tidying it up, it still looked better than what it originally looked last night. you check your phone before seeing a message sent of 2:04 am — "heh.. cleaned ur room because im such a good boyfriend arent i??? make sure to gimme a kiss latr as a thank you gift ;)"

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

[contact-guy]

okay I wanna talk about writing this a little bit!

-In the last lines of the comic, Holmes is recalling this conversation.

-There's a part in Granada Holmes (The Hound of the Baskervilles) where Holmes takes off his glove to shake Watson's hand. There was something so intimate about it, I wanted to capture that when he writes the letter.

-For that drawing of Watson standing looking out at the Falls, I kept thinking of a line from Lord of the Rings. It's when Samwise thinks that Frodo has died. He leaves the body, determined to carry on his mission, but stops for a moment to look back. "He peered out at that high stony place where all his life had fallen in ruin." There may be one or two commonalities between the things I like okay?!??

-Also for that drawing, that canon line "who was to tell us what had happened then?" shook me to my core when I first read this story. I knew I had to work it in somehow. What happens to the narrator when his protagonist dies?

-More canon lines - Moriarty talking about an "engine tearing itself to pieces" and "the days of the great cases have passed" are things that Holmes says himself.

-There's an instinct to drawing comics that makes me love making them more than any other medium. When a character is going to go through something complex, first I make sure that I can draw them experiencing that emotion. If I can't draw it, then there's probably something wrong and I need to write a bit more. Here are some sketches I did as I was ideating (which ended up being used in the comic):

-I was agonizing a few months ago about how to do this story, how to bring Holmes to the brink of the cliff and then bring him back. Sometimes when I'm stuck I just freewrite to see what comes up, trying to step through things from the character's perspective and see what makes sense. Here's some of this that I kinda think slaps:

When he survives…

He didn’t expect it. He was fully prepared to die. And he almost steps over that cliff, he does. Because he’s written himself into the end of the story. He’s written John the perfect ending.

But he doesn’t. Some animal part of his starved and neglected body, the part that kept him from falling in the first place, that kept him fighting. Is it the part that was loved and nurtured by watson? Some lingering love keeps him from following Moriarty. Hands that touched him in tenderness and love, now holding him back.

So everything since then has been trying to portray that in the most effective way possible. thank you for reading!

THE FINAL PROBLEM - part 9

This update comes with a content warning, which you can read here if you're so inclined.

THE FINAL PROBLEM - part 9 of a few more - part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8.

This is in the Watson's Sketchbook series!

[igotanidea]

The talk : Dick Grayson X reader ( with Bruce Wayne)

A/n : it's a snippet, I might consider writing it fully

Warning: suggestive but not explicit

Summary: it's time for the bees and bird talk with Dick

***

Bruce walking in on a young adult! Dick and his girlfriend y/n getting cosy between the sheets.

Obviously, as a normally functioning adult and a father, even if just a foster one, the batman takes it upon himself to have a talk about bees and birds with his favourite son.

He got it all planned out, schemed, thought out to avoid surprises and misunderstandings.

He actually had the contingency plans from A to Z drafted for a while, only hoping that those would never come to use.

Unfortunately, seeing y/n, with her blouse undone, hair a mess and Dick's hands (and apparently more) on her, forces Bruce to retreat to hide the blush creeping on. The last piece of his dignity is gone and he is pretty sure there's no good way to recover from such a failure.

He had reached the ultimate botttom.

"Hey B, you good?" Hours later Dick found him in the batcave, engrossed in some feigned, quickly fixed work. It was too easy to figure he would hide there to avoid seeing or - god forbid - hear anything.

"Hm."

"You wanted to talk to me about something, didn't you?" He grinned, delighting in a way Bruce seemed to develop an eye twich.

"Hm".

"Great. I got some time before I get back to y/n, so?"

"Get back?" Bruce turned to face his son and immediately regretted it. He seriously wished to erase the sight of lipstick and love bites on his neck.

"Something wrong?" Once more dick flashed a smile, trying to force a reaction out of Bruce.

"hm."

"we're being safe"

"Amazing"

"and she's okay with it"

"Great"

"And I've studied female anatomy so I know a thing or two about --"

Oh dear lord...

"Dick." Bruce was an inch from having a spasm. How ironic it would turn out to be if gotham lost its protector because of certain golden boy growing up.

"hey did you know that --"

"Get out, Dick."

"But I thought you wanted to--"

"I said get out"

"-talk?"

"I believe you got it all wrong. It was Alfred. Yes. Alfred wanted to talk to you. Not me."

"You sure about it B? You want me to talk to Alfred about -"

"yes. Absolutely. Now go. I'm sure time is of essence"

"it is. Though Alfred took some time off, thanks to your generosity, Bruce. So I'll go, sure, but I've already got so many questions that I don't want to search online and--"

"Dick?" Y/n voice sounded dangerously close to the batcave entrance "Where are you? I'm gonna have to go soon and I need a proper goodbye --"

"coming!!!" Dick yelled rushing off the room " great talk, Bruce. We'll continue it later."

Dick left and Bruce was finally able to let out a groan. The masterplanner forgot to acknowledge the fact that sweet kids tend to turn into feral, hormonal young adults and require actual upbringing.

***

"you're so mean to him, you know that?" Y/m muttered, once again with his lips on hers

"mean? Who, me? Ouch! You're hurting my heart here princess."

"you are. He could easily be a DILF, yet is alone and you're tormenting him."

"but if you saw the look on his face --"

"you're only proving my point of you being mean".

"I'm sure he'll get some, some day--"

"but still- mmm!"

"I remind you that you enabled the plan baby.... Played quite an important part in it." Dick started kissing her a little harder, not even trying to hide where he was heading. "Wonder why that is..."

"cause you're also a -- ohh!"

"you were saying?" He smirked, looking up at her.

"-prick"

"Am I?" His hands moved where she liked it "what else?"

"liar..." She gasped. While it was true he didn't tell her why he invited her over and that his father was in, his movements were serving as a pretty good apology.

Even if knowing Dick it was obviously also a way to boost his ego and prove his point and complete his twisted and deranged plan.

"you know what, I've already had one talk, I don't really need another.... Rather keep my lips occupied with something else --"

***

Bruce came out of the batcave only after making sure it was safe.

Mentally cursing himself for having not one, but four boys under his care.

Which meant that this - whatever it was-- was about to happen again.

[taehyungsgrowl]

birthday cake

hi! it is one of my best friends birthday today (happy birthday, reyna ily) and so here is a little yoongi birthday fic 🩷

in which yoongi decides to make a cake for his gf…

just blushy yoongi. fluff. slightly suggestive. no smut!

Yoongi found himself standing in the middle of his tiny kitchen, apron tied around his waist, frantically flipping through a baking book. He hadn’t baked in God knows how long, but today was different—today was Y/N's birthday, and he was determined to surprise her with the perfect cake.

He glanced at the clock, nodding to himself—plenty of time before she’d be back. No need to worry. After all, how hard could making a birthday cake be?

He regretted those thoughts instantly, rushing the first layer of cake back to the counter—if you could call it rushing. The kitchen was a disaster: eggshells scattered like confetti, flour dusting every surface (mixing in with the few strands of gray that nestled between his black hair), half-used sticks of butter, and sugar in places sugar should never be. "Ah, ah, ah..." His fingers danced under the baking tray, trying to avoid the heat, even through his thick baking mitts.

He shoved everything he could into the sink, trying to make room for the first cake layer. This couldn’t be the only way to do it—he had to have missed a step. What do you mean he had to repeat the whole process for the second layer? He muttered curses under his breath. Why hadn’t he thought to grab a second pan? Now he’d have to clear the one he was using, then make the frosting, decorate the cake, clean up, decorate the house, and still somehow look presentable. Where had the time gone? Y/N would be home any minute, and the kitchen looked like a war zone—with no cake in sight.

Yoongi's phone vibrated in his back pocket, taking him out of his zone. Her face flashed on his screen from the incoming call. Panic started to set it. She'd have to be on her way if she was calling! He tried to get it together and answered the call. "Hi honey," she could hear the smile in his voice, "Happy Birthday."

"Yoongi, you've already wished me a happy birthday," she laughed, adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder as she walked down the street.

Yoongi’s phone was wedged between his shoulder and neck, his head tilted just enough to keep it in place. His hands were busy, stirring the cake mixture as he tried to work the clumps out. "Yeah, I know I already said it, but I mean it. I want you to have the happiest day—every day, really. How was lunch with your sister?" He was proud of how carefree he could sound despite the anxiety this cake was giving him.

"Great! I'm actually calling you to tell you that she's taking me to go pick out my gift so I'll be back at a little later than expected -"

"He'll be fineee," he heard Y/N's sister whine in the background.

"Tell her I say hello too," he chuckled, "And not to keep you too late -she has to share." He couldn't stop the pout from forming on his lips, but he was also started making a mental list of ways he could thank Y/N's sister for buying him time. It was gonna be okay!

He quickly resumed his work, moving through the kitchen at the speed of light (or so it felt - but he had to keep stopping to check the instructions and recipe).

Yoongi carefully tried to lift the first cake layer, hoping he could slide it onto the cooling rack without incident. But as he moved it, the spatula slipped, and the edge of the cake tipped over the side. The layer landed with a soft thud on the counter, its corner now crumpled and slightly bent.

“C’mon, don’t fall apart now,” he muttered, his heart rate picking up. He gently tried to lift the cake, but the soft edges were starting to crumble under his touch.

With a frustrated sigh, he quickly steadied the layer, praying it wouldn’t collapse entirely. The last thing he needed was for this to fall apart before he even got to the frosting.

He glanced nervously at the clock—Y/N would be home soon, and this wasn’t exactly the picture of a perfect cake. "This is fine," he told himself, wiping his hands on his apron. “It’s fine. I’ll fix it.”

He gently placed the cake back on the rack, willing the crumbling edges to hold. It wasn’t perfect, but it was salvageable. At least, he hoped it was. Frosting fixes everything, right?

After more work, Yoongi stepped back and looked at the scene with a small, exhausted sigh. The cake wasn’t perfect, but it was finished—mostly intact and topped with a layer of frosting that, while not “artistic,” at least covered the obvious flaws. He gave a quick glance at the clock again. Y/N would be home soon!

He quickly grabbed a rag, scrubbing down the surfaces, and tossing used utensils into the sink. He kept glancing over at the cake, praying that it would stay intact for a few more minutes. It wasn’t perfect, but he was determined to make it look like he had it all together.

His mind was already racing to the next task. The house. He had to make it look less like a disaster and more like a cozy birthday surprise. Yoongi hurried through the living room, straightening the pillows on the couch and turning on her favorite candle. He didn’t have time for perfection, but he could at least make the place feel welcoming. He placed the happy birthday banner up on the wall. The fresh bouquet of flowers gently placed in a vase. It was all coming along!

The door opened just as Yoongi finished adjusting the last of the decorations. His heart skipped a beat, and he quickly wiped his hands on the apron, glancing around the living room one last time to make sure everything was in place. It wasn’t perfect—there were still a few flour smudges on the counter, and he hadn't quite managed to get the place spotless—but it would have to do.

He opened the door with a wide grin, his eyes lighting up as he saw Y/N standing there her face lighting up when she spotted him.

“Happy birthday!” he exclaimed, his voice a little too loud, a little too eager. The words came out with so much enthusiasm, but that was fine—he was just relieved she was finally home.

Y/N smiled back at him, her eyes softening in that way they always did when she looked at him. "You didn’t have to do all this," she said, looking at the decorations and then back at him. "It looks amazing."

Yoongi’s heart fluttered at the compliment, but before he could say anything more, Y/N’s eyes flickered down, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Uh… Yoongi,” she started, her gaze narrowing in on the corner of his mouth. “I think you missed a spot.” She reached up and gently wiped her thumb across his lip, picking up a small smudge of chocolate frosting that he hadn’t noticed. Without missing a beat, placed the thumb in her mouth sucking it clean, slow and deliberate.

Yoongi’s face went red as he stepped back, blinking in surprise. "What? Oh," he chuckled, his voice soft as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I, uh... might’ve taste-tested the cake. Can’t risk it being too sweet, right?”

Yoongi’s gaze flickered to her thumb, then back to her, his breath catching in his throat. He was blushing so hard he could feel the heat creeping up to his ears.

He flashed her a sheepish smile, still standing in the doorway in his apron, realizing only now how ridiculous he must look. “I kind of got caught up in... well, the cake... and, uh, decorating…” He gestured vaguely to the living room. “You know, the usual birthday chaos.”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and warm. She stepped inside, giving him a playful shove. "You're adorable," she teased, brushing past him to take in the rest of the room. “But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out like this. I’m happy just being with you.”

Yoongi felt a swell of warmth in his chest as he closed the door behind her. “I wanted it to be special,” he said quietly, his gaze softening as he watched her smile.

“Don’t worry, it is,” she said, glancing over her shoulder with a wink. "Though, I might have to help you with that messy kitchen... and maybe some other things later."

Yoongi followed her into the kitchen and he nervously glanced at the cake, still standing in the kitchen with his hands behind his back. He couldn’t stop the blush creeping up his neck. "Uh, so..." He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. "I, uh, made this for you."

He turned around slowly to reveal the cake—lopsided but covered in a thick, uneven layer of frosting, and sprinkled with a few hastily placed decorative touches. It wasn’t perfect, but it was definitely made with care.

Y/N smiled warmly, her eyes softening as she looked at the cake. "Wow, you really did this all yourself?" she asked, genuinely impressed. She leaned in closer, taking in the little imperfections with a fond smile. "I love it. It’s perfect."

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, looking anywhere but at her as his heart raced. "I, uh, wanted it to be special. I know it’s not... fancy, but I—"

Before he could finish, Y/N leaned in, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Don’t worry," she said, her voice soft as she reached for the cake. "I think it’s perfect."

Without another word, she dipped her finger into the frosting and brought it to her mouth, licking it off slowly, savoring the taste. Yoongi’s breath hitched as he watched her, his pulse spiking. He tried to look away, but his gaze was glued to her finger and the way she cleaned it off, her eyes meeting his for just a second.

The warmth in his chest spread to his cheeks, and he immediately turned his head to hide the flush on his face. “Did you... like it?” he asked, his voice low. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest like it was about to leap out of his ribcage.

Y/N, still holding her finger to her lips, smiled coyly. “Mm, I do. It’s... sweet.” She licked her lips slowly, her gaze playful. “I think I’ll need more of this.”

Yoongi swallowed hard, the heat in his face intensifying. He opened his mouth to say something, but his brain couldn’t quite catch up with his racing thoughts. Instead, he just stammered, “Happy birthday, by the way…”

She let out a small giggle, stepping closer to him.

“Mm, the cake is really yummy," Y/N said with a smile, wiping a little frosting off her lips as her eyes locked with his. The look was gentle, but there was something in it—something more—something Yoongi recognized.

He stepped closer, the space between them narrowing. “I’m glad you like it," he murmured, his voice low. His hand reached for hers, fingers brushing her skin lightly.

Y/N’s thumb traced the back of his hand, the light touch sending warmth up his arm. She didn’t say anything more, but the silence between them was heavy with everything they’d been feeling in that moment. She was close and yet it wasn’t enough. Yoongi could feel his breath hitch as he gazed at her, his fingers tightening around hers just a little.

"Y/N," he breathed out, his voice soft but full of meaning. She didn’t pull back. Instead, she gave him a look that made his stomach flip, and the distance between them was gone.

He leaned in, his lips finding hers with a familiarity that made his heart race even more. It wasn’t tentative or hesitant. It was the kind of kiss they shared when there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. Yoongi’s hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb gently brushing her cheek as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer.

Y/N’s arms slid around his neck, her fingers threading into his hair, her body pressing into his. Yoongi’s chest tightened with the simple pleasure of having her so close, so warm. They kissed slowly, savoring the closeness, the sweetness of the moment. His tongue parted her lips as he deepened the kiss. He could taste the chocolate off her tongue.

Yoongi smiled as he heard her gasp against his kiss. He swallowed her sounds, his fingers gripping her hair.

Y/N's senses were everywhere. The sweet scent of the kitchen filling her nose, Yoongi's tongue tracing patterns as he kissed her, her fingers tangled in his hair.

She could feel him smirk as she gripped his hair and Yoongi made a mental note to keep his long length just a little longer (if it were up to Y/N, he knows he wouldn't be getting his hair cut any time soon).

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting together as they caught their breath. Yoongi smiled softly, his fingers still tangled in her hair.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice a little raspier than usual.

She smiled back, her eyes sparkling with affection. “Thank you, Yoongi," she said, brushing her lips lightly against his. "Best gift ever.”

Everything just felt right. It was simple—just them, the cake, and this little piece of happiness they’d carved out together.

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part two//t.c.

Warnings: mention of deception, possibly toxic relationship, small argument

He was so close, leaning onto the table with his hands. You turned your head, your heart racing, thinking he’d do something crazy like kiss you. There’s no way he would do that, right?

You watched him look at the laptop screen for a few seconds, but it felt much longer before he spoke. “I think it’s time for a lunch break.” He stood up straight, “Ready?”

You were brought back to your senses, “Yeah, um, what do you want me to go get today?” you asked, pushing your chair back and standing up as well.

“Actually, I thought we’d go out somewhere.”

"Oh." you said, shrugging, "Alright."

............

The lunch wasn't really anything special, he just took you to a sandwich shop where you sat in a booth and finished eating within ten minutes. But it was abnormal, considering the two of you had never gone out to lunch, or any other meal together. Typically, he would have you go pick up food from somewhere, mostly to give you a mental break from the workday, or you would order food to be delivered to his place.

After returning to his house, you decided to break the ice on a topic that he was dreading: the Golden Globes.

"So, have you been thinking about the Globes? Do you have an acceptance speech ready?"

"What are you talking about? I'm not gonna win." he slumped down in one of his comfy chairs in the living room.

"Timmy, you should have something prepared. I can help you write something."

"Yeah," he sighed, "I guess I should have something, just in case. That's your job for the rest of the day, write my speech." he smiled cheekily.

You giggled at his goofy face, "Okay, boss. You'll have to proofread so I don't leave anyone out on your thank you list. Should I mention Miss Jenner?” the last question was a bit of a joke. You didn't think Timmy would ever mention a significant other publicly, not even if he were married to someone for 10 years with children.

Timmy only rolled his eyes, “Yeah, no.” he said firmly, taking his phone out, looking at the screen.

“Are you guys…okay?” You knew this was a sensitive spot, but not sure exactly why.

“Yeah, we’re fine.” he said plainly. He did not want to talk about her.

You bit your lip, "Well, I will go get started on that speech, unless there's anything else you need me to work on?" you started to turn on your heel.

"No, nothing right now, y/n, thanks." he said to you, but kept his eyes on the phone.

You could not get your head around how nice he was being to you, not that he was ever particularly mean, except for the night before, but you were over that. But to actually thank you for just doing your job was not typical of him.

.........

Later on, evening hours were approaching, and it was nearly time for you to go home. You heard Timmy's footsteps trailing into the dining room. His phone was still in hand.

"She is wanting to text; I just don't have the energy tonight. Just keep her on the hook, make her think the relationship is secure." he said, attempting to hand the device over to you.

"Is the relationship not secure?" you asked, not sure if you should take the phone.

Tip-toeing around an answer, he shrugged, "Just say enough to make it so. You've done it for me before." he pointed out.

"I know...it just doesn't feel right. This is something you should be doing Timmy. What if she mentions something from a text that I sent, and you don't even know what she's talking about?"

"She won't. Don't worry about that, it's not that deep. Just send a few texts back and forth and it'll be done." his nonchalant attitude was a little unnerving.

You shook your head, "It just seems mean, like towards her. She is still just a girl, you know, I think she actually might like you, Timmy."

"It's not that serious, she knows that, but I need her to think that everything is fine."

"I don't want to lie for you anymore, Timmy."

"It's not lying." he insisted.

"It's not genuine. Even if you don't care about Kylie, she is still a person. She doesn't deserve to be deceived."

"I never said I didn't care."

"Well, you don't act like you do! What even is your relationship with her? You never say anything about her."

"You're my assistant, I don't have to talk about my love life with you." he gave you a dirty look.

You scoffed, "You have literally had me do your texting for you, and you want me to do it again! You are such a walking contradiction. I'm not doing it." You were extra firm in your last sentence.

"Whatever. I think it's about quitting time for you today anyway, y/n." he said, grabbing his phone back from you.

"Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you. But you have to admit that I'm right. That's not a way to treat someone. I shouldn't have done it before, but you're my boss and I guess at the time I just wanted to please you."

He nodded, taking a breath and a moment to reflect, "Yeah, well, I'm glad to have you to call me out on my bullshit." He then tapped your arm with his hand. "Okay, get out of here, kid."

You frowned, "Did you just call me 'kid'?"

"Yeah, what?" he frowned right back at you. The mood was lighter now.

"I'm only like a year and a half younger than you, old man, don't call me a kid." you joked, gathering up your things to leave. You liked the playful banter you and he shared sometimes.

"Fine, don't call me an ‘old man’ then." he chuckled. He followed you to the front door as you slung your purse over your shoulder.

“Well, goodnight, boss.” you said, facing him one last time after to opened the door.

He held the door, his arm resting above your head. “Okay, goodnight.” he smiled softly. “Drive safe.” he said simply, then leaned in to leave a peck on your cheek.

Your heart skipped a beat, you felt your cheeks flood pink immediately. The tiny spot that his lips had touched was inflamed. You didn’t know what else to do, so you stood there smiling like an idiot.

Timmy closed his eyes, shaking his head and pressing his lips together, “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I really don’t.” he was clearly embarrassed; he took about a half step backward. “Let’s just forget about that, okay?” he smiled innocently.

“Yeah, it’s okay.” you shrugged, putting your arms behind your back. “It didn’t bother me anyway.”

He grinned, “Good. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep, definitely. Don’t forget to read over that speech. You’re running out of time before the awards.”

He mock rolled his eyes, letting his head hang down in annoyance, not at you, but the awards. “Okay.” he whined.

“Bye Timmy.” you giggled, then walked out the door. You weren't sure why he was dreading the Golden Globes so badly.

January 7, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive

[sleepycoffeecas]

Puppy love chapter 3 🍨

<previous, masterlist, next>

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

@hug4helios @hyunmikim @katchowbbie @chanchansgirly @lo-dssrt @fic-for-readers @minhoie @estella-novella @jisungs-iced-americano @rhonnie23

꒰ა ˚₊ ✧・┈・╴﹕꒰ ᐢ｡- ༝ -｡ᐢ ꒱﹕╴・┈・𐑺 ‧₊˚໒꒱

I'm midway through making a customer's drink when the café bell rings. I quickly make my way to the register to take their order and spot Yeji and Ryujin approaching.

“Oh hey!” I say, grabbing the drinks I had prepared earlier. “Where's the cute guy?” Ryujin asks, picking up her drink and grabbing a straw. “I think he’s in the back; he should come out soon,” I reply, and she hums in acknowledgment. “We’ll stick around for a bit; I'm curious about him,” Yeji adds, pointing to a nearby table. “Plus, my class isn’t for a while.” I nod and say, “I'll bring you more coffee if you need it.”

After the two girls settle at the table, another customer enters. I finish preparing their order before heading over to them. “Hello! What can I get for you today?” I ask, looking up to see a very handsome man that looks just like yeji?

“Is Seungmin here?” he asks, locking eyes with me. “Who?” I mumble, confused. “Kim Seungmin? He said he was here.”

I stare blankly for a moment before realizing who he means. “Oh, you mean the other person working? Uhm, I can go get him for you.” He gives me a strange look but nods. “Yeah, please, thanks.” “No problem, sir,” I say, turning to find him.

“Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin, that's my name,” he adds. I pause mid-step, processing his last name. “Hwang Hyunjin? As in Hwang Yeji?” I turn back to him. “Uh, yeah, she’s my sister.” I blink in surprise. “You mean THAT Hwang Yeji?” I say while pointing to the table her and ryujin are sitting at.

“Yeah, she's my twin sister.” “Oh,” I mumble under my breath. “Well, I'm going to get my coworker now.” I quickly turn away and head to the back.

When I enter, I see Seungmin? stocking the shelves. “Uhm, Seungmin…?” “Yeah?” I’m a bit taken aback that he responded but quickly gather my thoughts. “Someone is looking for you.” “Oh, okay, I'll be out in a second.” I nod and make my way back to the front.

“He said he’ll be out in a second,” I tell Hyunjin as I approach the counter. “Thanks, but you never told me your name.” “Oh, I’m YN.”

“Nice to meet you, beautiful,” he says with a charming smile. I feel my cheeks warm at the compliment but quickly regain my composure. “Uhm, do you want a drink or anything?” “Hitting on me already?” His teasing makes my face redden further, and he chuckles.

“I’ll take an Americano, sweetheart. Thanks.” I nod and head to make his drink just as Seungmin emerges from the back and approaches Hyunjin.

After preparing Hyunjin's Americano, I hand it to him. “Thanks, sweetheart.” “No problem,” I mumble before turning to Seungmin. “Are you okay taking over for a second?” “Yeah, I got it.” I nod and then walk over to Yeji and Ryujin.

“You didn't tell me you had a brother, Yeji,” I say, and she looks at me, confused. “How didn’t you know? Everyone on campus is obsessed with him.”

“Oh, well, he was just flirting with me.” Yeji sighs and shakes her head. “He’s just like that. Don’t get involved with him. Plus, he has seven other soulmates.”

I immediately freeze at her words. “I’m sorry, how many?” Both she and Ryujin look at me, puzzled. “He has eight, including him-?”

I blink at her in disbelief. “What?” She tilts her head, looking even more confused. “Nothing, sorry. Uhm, anyway, I need to get back to work,” I mumble, feeling a sense of sadness wash over me before I stand up from their table.

“And YN,” Yeji says, grabbing my hand, “that guy who’s working with you? His name is Seungmin. He’s one of Hyunjin’s soulmates.” I nod at her, forcing a slight smile to mask my feelings, before walking back to the counter.

[eyneyke]

Secret smiles pt.2 - Reactions

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 37 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

Reddit Thread: “Sam's ‘I'm-In-Love Smile’ Compilation”

u/F1Fanatic4Life: So I’ve been compiling a list of videos of Sam in the Red Bull garage, and I swear every time he has this super sappy smile on his face when he’s on his phone or talking to certain people. I’m calling it his ‘in-love smile.’ And no, I don’t know who his partner is, but Sam never used any gendered word for his partner and in his last live, Felix also said 'boyfriend or girlfriend or something else' so I say we just use non-gendered words when mentioning them until Sam says something. Anyways, I bet he’s thinking about them in all these moments. Here are a few videos that fans have captured.

Video 1:

Sam is seen walking through the Red Bull garage with his phone in hand, grinning like an idiot while typing away. A mechanic asks him something, and he just chuckles and keeps typing before shaking his head.

u/SpeedDemon1995: "That’s the smile of someone who’s getting cute texts🥹"

u/RBRObsessed: "How does someone make texting look that adorable? I need to know what’s on his phone!"

u/NotACreep: "You just know he’s texting someone he’s really into. That grin is everything."

Video 2:

Sam is seen standing with Christian and Adrian Newey, chatting casually. Christian says something to him, and Sam starts blushing and laughing softly while looking down at his phone, his face glowing with that same smile.

u/F1DramaQueen: "The way Christian smirks like he knows exactly what’s going on... I wonder if he’s teasing Sam about his mystery partner."

u/RedBullStan: "Newey’s trying to keep a straight face, but I bet they all know. Christian’s probably the one who introduced them or something equally corny like that! XD"

u/PewDieFan: "Okay but can we talk about how precious Sam looks when he blushes? Partner or not, I’m dead."

Video 3:

Sam is walking toward Max’s car, but just before he gets there, he pulls out his phone, looks at the screen, and his face lights up. He quickly pockets the phone when Max arrives, but the smile is still on his face as they chat about something technical.

u/MaxSuperFan: "Bro... if this isn’t a I'm-in-love smile, I don’t know what is. Look at him. LOOK."

u/WhatIsAir: "Max just ignoring look on Sam's face and is probably talking about car stuff, and Sam’s clearly in another world. Who’s got his attention like that??"

u/ThisIsSuspicious: "Lowkey think Max knows who Sam’s dating... he smiled too when Sam did 🤔"

Video 4:

Sam is seen casually leaning against a wall, talking to a Red Bull team member. He’s nodding at whatever they’re saying but keeps sneaking glances at his phone, smiling to himself every time it lights up.

u/TextingAddict: "He’s doing that thing again!! Every time he looks at his phone, he smiles like a lovesick puppy."

u/RedBullRacingFan: "My heart is melting! That smile is way too soft for just regular texts."

u/SamLover: "Whoever this person is, they're so lucky to have Sam smiling at his phone like that!"

Video 5:

Sam and Christian are walking through the paddock, and Sam’s phone goes off. He looks at the screen, and that now-familiar grin spreads across his face. Christian notices, leans in to say something, and Sam bursts out laughing while turning his phone screen away.

u/TheChristianFan: "Christian definitely knows who the mystery beau is. Look at the way he’s teasing Sam!!"

u/MaxFanatic: "Sam’s always smiling when he’s with Christian or on his phone. I’m convinced Christian has insider knowledge!"

u/SuspectSquad: "Christian was probably like, ‘Tell your boyfriend I said hi,’ and Sam lost it😂"

Video 6:

Sam sitting in the back of the garage during a down moment, scrolling through his phone and giggling quietly to himself. Every now and then, he blushes and bites his lip as if trying to contain his smile.

u/HeartEyes4Sam: "Okay, WHO is making him blush and giggle like that??? That’s the ‘I’m in love’ smile if I ever saw one."

u/RBRForever: "I swear, every time Sam gets a text, he turns into a mushy pile of adorableness. I need to know who’s doing this to him."

u/DetectiveF1: "I’m putting money on this being a fellow F1 person. He’s always at races when he gets these texts."

---

u/F1Fanatic4Life (OP):

"So, I think it’s safe to say Sam is 100% in a relationship, and whoever it is makes him insanely happy. I wonder if they’re in F1, because he seems to be getting these texts all the time during race weekends but not during race time. Whoever it is, they better treat him right!"

---

Top Comments:

u/F1MysterySolver: "This has to be someone in the paddock, right? How else would he be smiling like this during race weekends?"

u/SusieDetective: "I mean, Christian and Newey definitely know who it is, but they’re both tight-lipped. Ughhh, I need answers!"

u/SamTheTechGuy: "I’m just here thirsting over Sam’s hands while he’s texting. But yes, also, WHO IS THE PARTNER?!"

u/MaxVerLover: "The mystery continues... but Sam looks so in love 🥺 Whoever it is, they’re making him super happy, and I love that for him."

u/TeamSam: "At this point, I don’t even care who it is. I just want more of these videos. Sam’s boyfriend smile is my new fave thing."

[seat-safety-switch]

Let's be honest, folks: you've gone through like half a dozen socks in the last couple of months, haven't you? Yeah. Socks nowadays suck, and we've all got our reasons why. Blah blah globalization wah wah market won't reward quality woo woo creeping degradation of the moral universe. That's whining, and when I whined as a kid my mom locked me in the basement until I built an intricate machine to fix whatever I was whining about. Sometimes, if my uncle was already locked down there, she'd make me do it in the shed instead. Let's go to that shed right now and make a machine to make socks.

Winter is the hardest season for sock survival. For one thing, it's real dry. You get that rough skin, that static electricity, bristly boot soles all the time, and they fall apart on your feet. Big holes. I'm sure Big Sock gets a huge rise in their stocking price – get it? – around this time every year, as everyone needs new socks for Christmas or other seasonal/denominational shopping holidays. Fuck 'em, is what I say. We're going to fix their little red wagon.

Now, you might be unsurprised to hear that humanity already has a machine to make socks. We just don't put good materials in it. Unfortunately, I was never trained to make a machine that makes "good sock materials," whatever those are, so we're going to cut a corner here and slap a Chevy small-block V8 on an AliExpress "Full Automatic High Capacity Socks Machine Sock Knitting Machine for Sport," which I paid $39.95 for and got a 15% off coupon in exchange for giving it a five star review, no matter how many children it maims. Critically: it has free returns, so I can get that forty bucks back when we've made a year's supply of foot coverings.

The most important part of this job is building a good coupling. The massive amount of torque from the vee aight needs to be transferred into the sock-making machine, ideally without breaking it. Otherwise you're going to just spend more money on clutches, dowels, wrist pins and spring baskets than you would have on more socks. It helps if you've gone through an entire undergraduate materials-engineering degree, but for those of us who have gotten a restraining order from their local university, well, we have to do what works. Which is a truck clutch, tactically welded onto this sucker, using the display unit welder that they have at Princess Auto while the employees weren't looking.

Now, let's rev this piece of shit up and make us some socks.

Okay, things have not gone well. I admit that "roaring fire" is a big downside. Turns out that these things really need some yarn loaded into them first. If you just fire it dry, what it actually does is try to turn its own asshole inside out. The good news is that I can probably wear this prolapsed chunk of smouldering wiring harness as a sock. Seems pretty warm, I'm going to count this as a win.

[dovalore]

trainer evbo wants to battle!

go check out @rhymeswithchronic's post about this pvpciv au!

time for some design thoughts

from this point forward in the post, i'll be referring to evbo as boey!

so this all started because i thought, "haha, his headband would have a pokeball design on it" and now here we are like two whole hours later (not counting the amount of time it's going to take me to yap about this design)

everything else was like, "okay, how can i make his design call back to jirachi" since that's his partner pokemon

the music i went to for his vibes were nemona's regular battle theme and zame's remaster of barry's battle theme! he feels like someone who'd have an animation where he jumps into frame before the battle actually starts

it's a little hard to see here because of how they're positioned, but the ribbon part does share the same wavy edge as jirachi's... tail? thing? i'm not sure what they are. also i feel like i say this at least once each time i start yapping about my designs, i should probably work on that lmao

the pouch on his hoodie is meant to somewhat resemble an eye

his hair does flair out a little bit at the ends since jirachi's head is a star, but i didn't want to make it too over the top so it's a lot more subtle than that

obviously his pouches, pockets and bag are filled with things he's picked off the ground

... don't ask me what his bag looks like beyond what's shown here because i didn't really think that much about it

yes the little bit of text on his hoodie says "360" because he makes references to parkciv in the source material and i was like, sure why not (pokemon 360 is wynaut, which does kinda work out in retrospect if you consider that it's fate is to evolve into the pokemon equivalent of a punching bag. one that can fuck you up, but a punching bag regardless)

the pokeball being upside down is intentional on my end, boey... not so much. guy's just too excited to battle to notice

boey you're gonna trip boey

i think it would be funny if his treecko had unburden as her ability, so she's here unburdening boey berry pouch lmao

gave her stripes because boey has stripes, that's about all the thought that went into that element

treecko's actual eyes make them look so serious, so i made them round here. she can be a silly little guy as a treat

jirachi's pretty much just your standard jirachi, the only difference here is that i made their eyes green instead of teal

i think the last time i drew either of these pokemon was when my friends and i were challenging each other to draw them from memory, which i would be down for again! drop an ask about drawing a mon from memory if you make it to this point or something idk

[stars4noah]

HALLEY'S COMET- five.

{WARNINGS}: smutty smut smut smut, so much fluff its insane, swearing

w.c- 2,017

a.n- thank you all for the recent love and support, it means more than you know. this is by far my favorite chapter! hope you enjoy <3

{TAGLIST}: @lacy1986 @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @chey-h @rumoured-whispers @oobleoob @dontwantthemoney @n0n3xsisting

"you're her, princess. you're the woman i was in love with. the woman i'm still in love with. fuck, i thought taking time would make these stupid feelings go away but the moment i saw you in this fucking dress i couldn't take it anymore. i need you, [y/n]. will you have me?"

she was quiet for a moment before she nodded slowly. "yes."

READER'S POV.

as soon as the words left my mouth, noah wasted no time on pressing his lips to mine once more. this time, i reciprocated. he picked me up by the back of my thighs before gently laying me down on the bed behind us, his kisses moving down my neck.

"noah..." i breathed.

"what do you need, sweetheart?"

i whimpered softly. "you. i need you." he smiled. "you have me, baby."

i huffed, my hands moving to tangle in his hair. "you know what i mean."

"do i?"

"shut up and kiss me."

our next kiss was rougher than the last. full of passion and lust. his hands moved to my waist before lowering to my hips and tugging my dress up to my waist.

"fuck... just for me?" he said, groaning at the sight of my lacy black thong. i bit my lip.

"all for you."

he pulled the thong inside before ducking down, his lips working expertly at my core as i tugged on his hair, a stream of moans slipping past my lips.

"fuck.. oh my, fuck."

i could feel his lips shift into a grin as he continued, my thighs keeping his head locked in place. he couldn't move even if he wanted to.

which he definitely didn't.

the feeling of his mouth added to his fingers curling inside of me made that rope in my tummy snap, my release coating his nose, mouth and chin as i breathed heavily.

he moved back up my body, his lips leaving a trail a heat in it's wake before he kissed me again, this time moving to take off his own pants. i helped him get them off and throw them somewhere in the room, desperate to feel him.

this was all i ever wanted. all i ever needed. i could die a happy woman knowing i had sex with the noah sebastian. the man who may or may not just be the love of my life. but that was something we could figure out later.

he gave one last kiss on my lips, lining himself up with my hole. "you ready?" he asked softly, and i nodded.

with that, he pushed in, making me let out a quiet moan of pain and pleasure as he soon bottomed out.

the moment he started moving, it wasn't gentle. this wasn't him wanting to make love. this was him wanting to fuck me until i couldn't speak. and i was more than okay with that.

i moaned loudly as the headboard banged against the wall in rhythm to his thrusts, arching my back as he hit that one spot inside that made me see stars. if people downstairs didn't know what we were doing before, they sure as hell did now.

"shh, you gotta be quiet." he said. "don't want your little guests hearing you, do you?"

i shook my head, causing him to leave a small smack on the outside of my thigh. "words, baby."

"n-no. oh god, noah!" i moaned.

he growled, pulling out and flipping me over with my ass in the air before going right back in, pushing my head into the pillow as i let out a constant string of moans that were honestly almost screams.

i felt that cord in my stomach getting tighter again, and i knew my release was close.

"n-noah, fuck, please. 'm gonna cum." i whined, my voice slightly muffled by the pillows.

"yeah? you gonna cum for me? make a fuckin' mess?" he grunted into my ear, his thrusts growing sloppy and i knew he was close too. "cum for me, baby. c'mon." he said, and that was all it took. i let go, my legs shaking and almost giving out on me as i came. i swore for a second i almost saw god.

in my blissed out state, my mind didn't even register that he had fleed to the bathroom for a moment before i felt something warm and damp between my legs, making me whimper softly.

"shh, sweetheart. it's okay. just cleanin' you up." noah said softly lowering me down onto the bed and flipping me over. he threw the cloth somewhere before moving beside me to take off my dress.

"c'mon, arms up." he said, and i complied, moving my arms up so he could take it off of me before giving me an oversized shirt, putting it on over me.

"there ya go. comfy?" he asked, laying me down with my head on his chest. "mhm" i hummed.

"you sleepy?"

"yeah."

"go to sleep then, baby. i'll be right here. i won't leave. not this time." he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.

i closed my eyes and attempted to fall asleep, but after about ten minutes i knew i couldn't.

"noah?" i asked softly.

"yeah?"

"will you sing to me?"

he smiled softly. "yeah."

my eyes remained closed as he hummed a soft, unfamiliar tune. i wasn't sure what it was, but it was soothing enough to lull me into sleep.

i woke up the next morning to a familiar warmth next to me, my eyes slowly fluttering open. it took a moment for my mind to catch up, but when i realized that he really did stay, i smiled. i gently brushed the hair out of his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead and then his shoulder before carefully getting out of bed. as much as i wanted to stay and cuddle, i was hungry as fuck.

i crept downstairs, noticing a couple people crashed on my couch. i rolled my eyes, a fond smile on my face. that was okay, they were friends. i'd rather have a million people stay over at my house after a long night of partying and drinking than drive home drunk and endanger themselves and others.

i carefully pulled a blanket over nicholas, noticing he was curled up a bit as if he was cold. i always kept my a/c on a fairly low temperature, as i got hot really easy. it didn't bother me, but it did others.

i continued my main task and went to the kitchen to cook up some breakfast. while i was cooking, i felt a large pair of hands wrap themselves around my waist, pressing kiss after kiss to my neck.

"morning." i smiled softly, turning to face him.

"g'morning, princess." he said, his voice still a little hoarse from just waking up. "what're you cookin' up in here?" he asked.

i turned back around to flip the bacon, mot wanting it to burn. "just some breakfast. eggs and bacon. that good with you?"

"perfect." he said

there was a beat of silence before he spoke again.

"hey, what do you say we go out today? let me take you on a proper date. you deserve it."

i smiled softly. "i'd like that. maybe we could stop by that little restaurant that just opened up a couple blocks away. oh, and we could go see the christmas lights!"

"baby, it's the middle of november." he raised an eyebrow.

"so? the lights are up, and i wanna see them."

he shook his head, laughing softly. "okay. well, you make breakfast. i'll go take a shower, and then we can hang out all day. deal?"

i nodded, giving him one last kiss before finishing up breakfast as he went to go shower.

later in the day, noah and i went out for our little date. we settled for the restaurant i suggested earlier. it wasn't too fancy, but it was cute and i liked it. the waitress sat us down at a table, taking our orders before walking off, leaving the two of us be.

we were sat beside one of the large windows, a beautiful view of the outside city and a small tree. i smiled softly as i watched the little critters roam around. birds and squirrels.

"what're you looking at?" noah asked softly, following my gaze.

"the birds."

he smiled. "you really are a nature nerd, aren't you?"

i laughed softly. "not a nerd. i just like to watch the birds. sometimes i wish i could fly. i bed it would give some sense of freedom. it seems like so much fun." i said, not noticing how he looked at me with that soft smile. that smile that anyone could take one look at and instantly tell that a man was in love.

"you look really beautiful." he said, taking my hand in his. i averted my gaze, looking back at him with a smile. "thank you, baby. you look very handsome."

he laughed softly at the compliment, his cheeks flushing with the faintest hint of pink on them.

even though he was a big burly man on the outside, he was still a person with feelings. he would get shy when someone complimented him, or nervous in stressful situations. tough on the outside, sweetheart on the inside.

"are you excited for the lights?" he asked, and that brought a huge smile on my face.

"oh, yeah. i'm so excited. i love looking at christmas lights, they're just so fun and bright and festive and it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside and- sorry, i'm rambling." i laughed, and laughed too.

"no, love. ramble all you want. i'm listening."

and that was pretty much all we did all night. after we ate, we went to go see the christmas lights, even taking a few pictures.

when we got home, we settled down, slipping into our pajamas with a fire in the fireplace and a movie on the tv. i could tell noah had been thinking about something all night, and it worried me a bit.

"hey." i said after a few minutes. "what's on your mind?"

he snapped himself out of his thoughts, releasing his bottom lip from his teeth. "i have something to ask you. don't freak out." i nodded, though it was hard not to be anxious when you're told not to freak out.

"how would you feel about going public? with our relationship, i mean."

i froze for a moment. we had only gotten together literally a day ago. going public so soon? i knew it was a bad idea, but another part of me wanted the world to know. i wanted everybody to know that he was mine, and i was his.

"i.. i don't know. what if everything goes wrong? like, people might freak out and hate us and our careers could spiral downhill and-"

he cut me off, gently cupping my face in his hands. "hey. we don't have to if you don't want to. i'm just making a suggestion. i want everybody to know i'm yours. that i've got this lucky woman by my side every single day of my life. that i love you. and who cares what they think? they're just a bunch of people on the internet that have nothing else to do but make others' lives miserable. us? we can decide to make our relationship public or private. i promise either is okay with me. nothing will ever change the way i feel for you." he reassured.

i nodded slowly. "okay."

"are you sure? i don't want to pressure you into something you don't want to do."

"i'm sure. i want them to know. so then we can post all of our cute pictures and videos and stuff." i smiled, something that he returned in full before pressing a soft miss to my forehead.

"i'll love you forever." he said softly.

"and always?" i asked

he laughed softly, nuzzling his face in my hair.

"and always, my love."

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

i'm not gonna do a big year in review post like i did last year because on a strictly numerical level (a) i probably technically failed most of my resolutions and (b) i don't actually have the data because one of the ones i definitely failed was logging my habits to keep up, which i stopped doing in september when work got crazy and never picked back up. still ultimately i feel good about how things went down, generally. i didn't quite make this the year i got back into reading but i read more than i had the year before for sure, and i saw a lot of movies, most of them interesting or enjoyable, and some other art, too (the jenny holzer installation at the guggenheim, the ibsen play starring jeremy strong). i definitely listened to way more music. i got so good at hydrating by the end of the year that now i feel off if i drink less than 100 ounces a day lmao. i don't think i hit a 50% workout rate but i had a june that took working out off the map for several weeks and then when i tried to get back into it at the level i'd been doing before it sucked and i needed way more rest days for a long ass time; lesson learned for the future, and right now i feel like i have a good routine going. steps was kind of a similar story but this fall was pretty successful (having a zillion clients all over the goddamn city was helpful in that regard). i do want to be more proactive about it on a day to day basis because i do think it might help me sleep to hit that 10k or so (and i think it helps with soreness too, preventatively and amelioratively, which spellcheck says is not a word but should be!!) but i'm feeling more and more like flexibility is the name of the game in some things so while i will be tracking them daily/weekly/monthly this year, i will ultimately consider it a win if i get to december 31 with 3,650,000 behind me.

i fell off on logging and journaling, and never really got a handle on doing mobility work or meditating, but i finished the year feeling like while on the one hand it was nice to know i had enough structures in place to make it through my busy season a little on edge but never really losing my mind, i also felt like ignoring these things completely for a while ultimately as i look back drew my attention to why i wanted to make space for them in the first place; the morning routine stuff is where i get it together enough to check in on my life, process some stuff, and make adjustments as necessary; doing some kind of mobility stuff, even if it's just hitting the foam roller at bedtime, is just physically necessary if i want to keep working out the way i have been working out and i have to stop acting like i can have one without the other.

i decided for 2024 i didn't need to set a guideline around internet use the way i had in 2023, just an intention to be mindful, and, um, well that was a huge failure but an instructive one; again, lesson learned (and it's actually crazy how much even a guided 5 meditation in the morning alters my basic instincts for the rest of the day about when i want to Scroll). i didn't floss........ i should floss.

i did okay with doing Life Tasks semi-regularly and the attitude of "20 minutes Task Time per day" was helpful in some ways but didn't address the Giant Ever Growing Backlog Of Tasks I Have Been Putting Off For Months To Years, which suggests a need for a new approach; this year i'm gonna try a tip i read somewhere to plan out your tasks on a weekly basis, including scheduling them, not just throwing them on a "weekly to-do list," and aim for 5 a week. i gave up on 20 minutes of digital tidying per day and i think the answer there is just to not set a minimum above the minimum, so to speak. if i delete 5 emails or unsubscribe from 1 thing that counts.

i don't know how i wound up doing with my goal to have One Human Connection Per Day (At Least Half The Days Of The Year) but i had a lot of fun this year and i am finishing it feeling in many ways still awkward and neurotic but more connected and secure than i was a year ago, and feeling almost overwhelmed with how true it feels to say "my life is full of doing fun stuff with people i like" after all the years i spent convinced this was completely impossible for me to achieve. this year i don't think i'm going to slot this into my daily habits, partly because sometimes multiple things happen on one day or i text someone to initiate plans-making on the same day someone texts me, partly because the advice i saw about doing stuff also recommend task-batching and i think there may be some utility to that here as well, and partly because well i do have a schedule that is incredibly variable by week and season and this past fall for example i'm not sure i could have handled much more in september/october than free store + one fun thing a week which is more or less how it shook out for a while there. i also don't think i'm going to set a number because, well, i feel good about it right now. i do want to set a non-quantifiable intention to keep getting a little braver about forging new connections or deepening ones that are shallow but seem promising (serial killer way to say "making friends" sorry i am still in some ways quite Insane about this topic, the prime locus of my insanity for many years), and within that specifically to keep getting better at going to local stuff even when none of my closest local friends are going to be there as my security blanket lol. this year early on i finally texted someone i knew from pantry biz with whom i had exchanged mutual "we should hang out sometime" sentiments and it turns out that they're one of those people where once someone else makes the first move they welcome you in a lot so that the "hey, wanna catch a movie or something?" text i sent while deep breathing (because i am Insane) wound up leading pretty directly to a bunch of other incredibly fun 2024 memories, which is like almost irritatingly on the nose as a life lesson but otherwise very nice. relatedly (to texting that stresses me out because of my Problems) i want to get better at texting people back in a timely fashion and also at being more impulsive in a positive way about sending texts when people are on my mind.

the two things i feel real regret over this year are the reading thing and also writing... not a great year for writing, although i can at least look back on i would say three newsletters i'm proud of and one fic i was very glad to complete. i also did... okay... at contributing at the singles jukebox now that We're So Back on a monthly schedule. but i wrote basically nothing other than the occasional blurb after sometime in may and that feels bad and also suggests i need to find some way to integrate writing more reliably into my routine. i don't want to set a word count goal because part of what's going on is that i have some projects i'm picking away at that are more demanding of planning & brainstorming & slower more considered writing than my usual (beloved!) genres of Blogging and Fanfiction but i do think it needs to be quantifiable because ummm otherwise i simply will Not. so i am thinking this is a daily goal too. same goes for reading and in that case i do think i can set an outcome goal, which is 50 books.

ok well i guess this wound up being a year in review post anyway lmao. whatever it's capricorn season it's my time to shine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! neatened up resolutions post for my own ease of reference incoming shortly

[achilles-rage]

Hii can I request 18) complicated sex with an ex from the smut list with buck

sorry this took a while, my mom wanted to watch the beetlejuice movies with me lol. but i'm back, and i'm gonna post a couple more before i go to bed!!

number 18 from this post: "complicated sex with an ex"

you remember the last time you saw evan.

you were both 19, and he had just told you that he was dropping out of college and running away from pennsylvania. you had been dating for almost a year, and even after you begged him to stay with you, to not leave you, he had told you that he had to.

with that, he was gone, and you hadn't seen, or heard from him, in 10 years.

until today.

you had recently moved to los angeles for work, and when your building was doing a routine fire drill, you saw the man that you were sure you'd never see again. one that had left you when you were 19 and had you questioning every relationship you've been in since.

"evan?"

your voice travels through the crowd and hits his ears, and his stomach drops.

he knows that voice. he knows it will too well. and, the last time he heard it, it was practically screaming at him, telling him that he was abandoning her, and that he didn't love her as much as she thought he did.

when his eyes meet yours, both of your expressions are the exact same; jaws slack, and the look in your eyes a mix between disbelief, joy, and a tinge of regret.

"what are you doing here?" he asks as he closes the distance between you two. he wants to reach out to you, to pull you into his arms and never let go, but he holds back. the last time you saw him, you were crying, and yelling, telling him that you hated him in the heat of the moment.

"i live here." you reply, your voice light and airy, as if you still don't believe that he's standing in front of you.

"me too." he tells you, a smile making its way onto his face as his eyes travel down your soft figure. you're still the same as 10 years ago, although you look older. he's missed your kind eyes, and you pretty smile, but he also misses your plush body, the one that he's been thinking of for years.

he's torn from his daze when he feels your palm hit his chest. it's not hard enough to hurt, especially with his gear on, and when his eyes meet yours again, he sees anger and hurt replacing the disbelief in your eyes.

"how could you?" you whisper-yell, still aware enough that you're surrounded by people.

he opens his mouth to speak, then closes it, then opens it again, but no words come out.

those years were some of the best of his life; he got to travel the world and meet so many people, but they were also the hardest. he knew you wouldn't go with him, and he didn't want you to either. he knew how important college was to you, and he didn't want to make you decide between him and your future.

as he looks down at you, head still spinning with both disbelief and relief that you're finally back, all he can say is "do you wanna go out with me?"

"what?" you ask, brows furrowed and a slight frown on your face. this is the first time you've seen him in how long, and he's asking you out?

"please let me make it up to you. i was a fucking idiot- i still am. please let me take you out." he pleads. he knows you've never been able to say no to his puppy-dog eyes.

"okay." you say with a sigh. at the very least, you’ll get the chance to tell him how he made you feel.

evan, who you've since learned goes by buck now, is still as charismatic as ever, and by the end of the night, you felt yourself, against your better judgement, forgiving him for everything.

it’s how he get you here; in his apartment, in his bed, completely bare and pinned down under him.

his thrusts are slow and deep, and you can feel his hot breath on your ear as he moans lowly into your ear. he was good at sex when you were dating, but you catch yourself thinking about how the hell he got so good since then. he’s hitting that spot inside of you that has you seeing stars, and it’s making your back arch and your eyes roll back in pure ecstasy.

“fuck, i’ve missed you so much, baby.” he rasps in your ear before bringing his lips to yours, kissing you so passionately that your head spins.

all you can do is moan in response, gripping his shoulders tightly as you feel yourself clenching around him. when he parts from the kiss, he looks down into your eyes as he trails one hand down to your cunt, fingers finding your clit and rubbing lazy circles around it.

you whimper loudly, tightening your legs around his hips, and as you get dangerously close to the edge, all the doubt you had of him disappears.

he makes sure you both cum at the same time, and he holds your head in place so he can look into your eyes, groaning as he shoots his seed into your cunt. he continues his movements for a few more sloppy thrusts, letting you both ride out your highs, then kisses you deeply, savouring the feeling of you back in his bed again.

he buries his face in the crook of your neck as you both catch your breath, and as you stare up at the ceiling and listen to the steady sound of his breathing, you feel tears form in your eyes. you’ve been thinking about evan for years, and you were angry for so long, and now you feel an odd feeling between shame and relief that you’re back with him.

he left you, and you fell into his bed so quickly. all it took was one dinner and a few apologies. you remember telling yourself years ago that you’d never forgive him; that he had broken your heart and doesn’t deserve a second chance.

“woah, hey, are you okay?” you hear him ask when he finally pulls back from your neck and looks down at you. he can see the tears in your eyes, and the small frown gracing your lips, and his heart shatters.

“please don’t leave me again.” you whisper, a few tears finally falling down your cheek as you look into his eyes. you can feel your throat tighten as you fight back a sob, and you blink slowly, trying to blink away the tears threatening to follow the first few.

he sighs at your words, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek. he gives you a sad smile as you lean into his touch, and then he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.

“oh, baby. i wouldn’t dream of it.” he reassures you, and he means it. he never wants to be away from you ever again.

[reixtsu]

Chapter 2: A Small ‘Reunion’

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wk: 2.5k

You would forever curse to the Aeons above about those god-forsaken eyes. The perfect blend of cyan and magenta imprinted in his eyes as he raked over your frame. Your breath hitched, all the memories of him flooding your brain like a river. That night, the one night you let loose in all of your life, the night you met the damned gambler.

You bit your lip, putting on your perfectly orchestrated smile on display. "A little chat?" Your hand instinctively went over your son's shoulder, giving it a small squeeze. "I'm afraid I am busy at the moment, Aventurine."

Aventurine chuckled, one that was low and sultry, only making it harder for you to keep your composure.

"Really now? I promise it won't take much of your time. After all, time is money, and I'm sure we both value that, friend," aeons you forgot how hot his voice was to you, how it seemed to wrap around you and tug at your heart strings. A dangerous man he was.

A curt nod was all you gave him, not bothering to look him directly in his eyes. You couldn't look at him even if he asked, his beauty too dangerous for his own good.

"How's life?"

"You interrupt my work time for a life question?"

Another chuckle. "Of course not. I'm just curious," he glanced down at Hajime, then back at you, his piercing gaze reading your every move. "Life as a Stellaron Hunter must be rough, going here and about."

You scoffed, shooting him a sharp glare. "So you found out, hm?"

"It was my intuition. I remember when we first met you seemed to have an air of dangerous mystery. Your son, or, our son more accurately," He leaned forwards, whispering the last part in your ear before backing away. "Gave me a few helpful hints about your occupation. Thanks for that by the way, Hajime. Have some credits as my thanks."

And just like that, Aventurine handed 10,000 credits in cash to your son like it was nothing, like a simple lolipop you get from a doctor. Hajime's eyes widened, full of joy as his tiny hands gladly accepted his gift. "Thank you so-"

"Throwing money away like it's nothing. How typical of you," with careful and skilled hands, you took the money away from Hajime, hearing him gasp in horror, begging to have the money. Nevertheless you ignored him, passing the money back to Aventurine with a nonchalant shrug.

Aventurine's gloved hands pushed the money back at you, his lips only curving upwards some more. "It's his. I have enough in my pocket."

With a sigh and an eye-roll, you surrendered, passing the money back to your son. You peered at Aventurine, wondering why the hell you were obeying the request of an IPC Stoneheart official when the both of you were technically enemies. If it were anyone else, you would have shoved the money down their throat and walked away like nothing happened. You didn't need money anyways, and you hated people who threw money around like nothing.

Despite everything, you gave Aventurine a calm smile. "Well then, if that is all then we really must be going." You turned to face your son, who was holding your hand tightly. "And you, never run away like that again! You and Silverwolf will get a long lecture after this."

Hajime whined, begging you to not lecture them yet again. Aventurine, ever the charming one, waved you off with that handsome smile of his. "Until next time, y/n." And with that the two of you made your separate ways.

------

Man you really hate that man's face.

Why did Aventurine have to look the way he did? Like some sort of princely chartlan. Why did your heart race at the mere thought of him? Why was his voice so tantalizing? Why were his eyes so mesmerizing-

Okay y/n, focus on your own damn life. You're a Stallaron Hunter. Aventurine is an IPC, the enemy. You couldn't go around showing anyone that you were weak for a... man.

"What's wrong, sweetie? You've been fidgety ever since we left the last planet," Kafka's sultry voice cut your train of thought, causing you to jolt in surprise.

Your eyes scanned her momentarily, taking in her magenta hair being down instead of her usual tied up hair, then looked back into random space. "Nothing. Just wondering the best way to lecture Silverwolf. I swear, I'm never trusting her with my son again."

She laughed, covering her mouth in an elegant way. "Of course you are," her calculating, lazy eyes looked across the room to where Silverwolf was bugging Firefly to play some sort of game with her. "Firefly or Bladie would have been the best candidates to watch over Hajime."

You hummed, your eyes following the scene. "Say, are Firefly and Stelle finally dating?"

"I don't think so."

"Really? Man, they're slow."

Another chuckle erupted the room as both you and Kafka laughed.

“Well Hajime is already in bed, so I should go too. Long day,” you waved off to Kafka, blowing her a kiss as you made your way into your bedroom.

----

Memory 1

The casino was a world unto itself-a haven of chaos and vice where time seemed to blend into one big milkshake. Neon signs flickered and danced against the polish marble walls, advertising extravagant prizes and promising riches to those who were bold-or foolish-enough to try their luck. The scent of cigar smoke linger in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of alcohol and the faint aroma of expensive cologne. High stake gamblers leaned over green felt tables, their whispers lost to the symphony of clinking chips and spinning roulette wheels. Everything hummed with energy, one that seeped into your skin and settled within your bones.

You sat at the far end of a bar, a single glass of milk in your hand. Funny because the drink looked absurdly out of place amidst the sea of martinis, whiskeys, and champagne flutes. Despite this, you paid no mind to the occasional glances that were shot your way.

Today Elio's script hadn't called for action yet, so you were biding your time, your expression impassive. The white liquid swirled lazily as you tilted the glass, the coolness of it soothing your warm fingertips.

"Milk in a casino?"

The voice, deep and smooth like molten gold, broke through the peaceful alone time you had. You didn't bother to glance up right away, letting the speaker, whoever he was, to stew in his curiosity a little longer. When you finally lifted your gaze, you were met with striking cyan and magenta eyes framed by blond lashes.

Aventurine.

He leaned casually against the bar, his sharp suit catching the ambient light just enough to highlight the quality of his tailoring. His eyes, framed by the slight shadow of his lashes, gleamed with mischief and calculation.

"You have a problem with it?" you asked, your tone flat as the marble countertop beneath your fingers.

He chuckled, leaning an elbow on the bar as he studied you with those charming eyes of his. For some reason you couldn't take your eyes away from them. "Not at all. It's refreshing, really. Most people here are drowning themselves in overpriced scotch, trying to look important or trying to drown in their problems. You? You're making a statement.'

"I just don't drink," you said simply, taking another long sip of your milk.

He grinned, his sharp teeth catching the light. "Fair enough. But you stick out, you know. Hard not to notice someone drinking milk in a place like this."

You raised an eyebrow, licking the milk off your lips and meeting his gaze head-on. "And you decided to comment because...?"

"Because you caught my eye," he admitted without hesitation, his grin widening. You didn't miss the fact that his gaze flickered onto your lips then back to you eyes. "You don't seem like the type to hang around a casino for fun. I'm curious, what brings you here?"

He wasn't wrong about the fact that you usually avoided places like casinos. Quickly keeping in mind that this man's observation skills were next level, you shrugged, your expression unreadable. "The ambiance."

He barked out a laugh, drawing a few curious glances from nearby patrons. "Ambiance, huh? Well, if you're not here for the drinks, then how about the games?" He gestured toward the poker tables behind you, where players sat with their faces carefully neutral, their chips piled high. "What do you say? Care to join me in a hand or two?"

You studied him for a moment, your gaze flickering over the way he carried himself-confident, but not arrogant. Calculating, but not cold. There was a spark in his eyes, a gleam that suggested he lived for the thrill of the gamble. In all honesty, it was kind of hot to say the least. You could feel his curiosity radiating off him, matching your own guarded intrigue.

"Sure," you said finally, setting your glass down and stood up. "Why not?'

Aventurine led you to a table with the air of someone who owned the place. To be honest, you wouldn't be surprised if he did. As you took your seat, the dealer shuffled the cards with practiced precision, and Aventurine gestured for the game to begin.

From the first hand it became clear that Aventurine was no amateur. His moves were precise, his bets calculated, and his handsome poker face flawless. You tried your hardest to not look at him too much, your thoughts would stray too much if you did. As the game progressed, you saw the faintest flicker in his expression-curiosity, amusement, and something that almost resembles excitement.

Your strategy-or rather lack thereof-was throwing him off. While he made carefully calculated moves, you played with an almost reckless abandon, tossing in chips at seemingly random moments and going all-in when it made no logical sense. Yet, somehow, you managed to hold your own, winning just enough to keep him on edge.

"You're either the luckiest person I've ever met who is luckier than me, or you've got some kind of twisted strategy that I can't figure out," he said, leaning back in his chair and studying you with a mix of admiration and suspicion.

You smirked faintly, your eyes glinting in rare amusement. "Maybe I just like keeping you guessing, pretty boy."

He laughed again, a genuine, a deep sound that made your heart flutter. "Fair enough. But don't think for a second that I'm going to let you win this."

The game continued, the pile of chips in front of your ebbing and flowing like the low tide. Aventurine's eyes never left you, his curiosity growing with every unpredictable move you made. As the game wore on, you found yourself equally intrigued by him-his sharp wit, his easy charm.

"I'll tell you what," he said, breaking the moment, "why don't we raise the stakes? Winner buys the loser a drink-milk for you, of course."

"Trying to get me drunk on calcium?" you asked dryly, earning another laugh from him.

"Something like that," he said, his grin widening, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Or maybe I want an excuse to keep you around a little longer, friend."

The word lingered in the air, teasing yet intimate, and it sent a shiver trailing down your spine. You didn't reply, couldn't-the rapid pounding of your heart robbed you of the ability to even speak a word. But your lips curved into a faint smile, betraying you. His words, his tone of voice, it had struck something within you, something you were too embarrassed to put into words. After gathering your resolve, you nodded firmly, meeting his gaze with a serious expression that barely masked the anticipation in your eyes. How were we going to explain this to Kafka?

"I'll entertain you a little more then," you said, your voice quieter than intended, "since you're willing to have me."

Aventurine's grin softened ever so slightly, the predatory edge in his eyes giving way to something deeper. Much deeper. Something unspoken yet undeniable. His luck may have earned him glory in the past, but tonight, it brought him you-someone who felt entirely out of reach yet impossibly close. For the first time in a while, the gambler found himself playing a game with stakes he couldn't afford to lose, or else his heart couldn't take it.

And you? You couldn't even deny the pull you felt toward him. It was weird for you to feel this connected to someone. There was a magnetism about him, something almost as dangerous as you, something intoxicating. The way he leaned just a little too close for your comfort when  he spoke, his casual yet deliberate touches as if testing your boundaries, the smooth cadence of his voice-it all wrapped around you like a siren's song, pulling you into the depths of the sea.

Hours passed like seconds in his lavish company. The laugher, the constant teasing, the stolen glances-they blurred together into something hazy and electric, filled with undeniable desire. It was only after the world had melted away-the noise of the casino replaced by a quieter, more intimate atmosphere-that you realized exactly where spending time with Aventurine led you.

A lashive private room, dimly lit, the scent of expensive liquor and faint cologne lingering in the air. You were pushed against the plush velvet of a couch, its surface cool against your heated skin. Aventurine loomed over you, just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. His hand rested beside your head, his knuckles brushing against your hair, keeping in mind how soft it was, while his other hand ghosted along the curve of your waist, causing your breath to hitch. This man was testing just how far he could go before you stopped him.

His eyes searched yours, piercing and hungry, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between the two of you changed, crackling with an unspoken desire. You felt the weight of his gaze as it traveled over you, staring from your eyes, down to your chest and waist, lingering on your lips before returning to your eyes. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, raw, roughened by something primal that made your walls clench, your heat only getting wetter.

"Tell me to stop," he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek, causing you to shiver in pleasure. Despite his words, the way he looked at you made it clear he wasn't hoping for you to stop.

And you felt the same way. You fell too far down the rabbit hole to stop now. Instead, your fingers found their way to his collar, tugging him down just enough for your lips to brush against his in a fleeting, electric moment that sent your heart racing for more. The gamble was all yours now, and you were going all in.

Author’s notes: I was a little too jumbled in the head as I wrote this chapter. I had a full ass cake then proceeded to just write until my hand scraped like crazy.

Taglist: @godoffuckedupcats, @sweetistic