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bedlam-barbie · 18 days ago

Text

Mine

Pairing: yandere!Salesman x wife!recruiter!reader

Warnings: canon adjacent violence, suggestive sexual themes

Summary: when the Salesman’s wife is targeted in broad daylight, a routine morning turns into a blood-stained warning. love, after all, is just another word for possession. Salesman’s name is Nam Shin for this one.

Category: hurt and comfort (twisted) ; mild explicit/ fade to black

Word count: 2.8k

Request: yes, “Hi! Could you write about yandere salesman × wife reader. Where the reader also works with him, and Kim jeong-rae and woo-seok begin to follow her in order to kidnap her. Please”

It had started out as an ordinary morning, slow, almost deceptively so. She was meant to meet Nam Shin for lunch later, their usual weekday ritual when they weren’t working a job. He recruited by day. She preferred the night shift. That rhythm worked for them, smooth, clinical. Clean. But her mornings were hers, and today, she'd chosen to spend them shopping for groceries in Apgujeong, combing through the pristine aisles and artisan stalls for ingredients he’d approve of.

Shin was the one who usually cooked, always had been. He liked the control, the ritual precision of it. Each knife stroke, each carefully measured gram, it soothed something in him. She’d never minded, not really. She could burn water if she wasn’t paying attention, and aside from two meals she could barely manage, the kitchen was his territory. But with their anniversary creeping up, she’d made a quiet vow to herself: this time, she would cook for him. Something good. Something real.

It was just after she passed the dry-aged hanwoo stand that she felt it, that electric snap at the base of her neck. Not fear. Not yet. Just the sense of something…off. Wrong, and watching.

It was a feeling she’d learned to trust. You didn’t last in their line of work, not in the Squid Game system, without learning to listen to your instincts. She didn’t react. Not immediately. That was the first test. You don’t turn around. You don’t let them know you know.

Instead, she kept walking, slow, deliberate, as if she had all the time in the world. Past the fresh produce, past the artisan seaweed display, pretending to examine jars of soy-cured garlic. She tilted her head just slightly, catching reflections in the brushed steel surface behind the counter.

There, two men, a few paces back. Too casual to be casual. One of them had been at the tea shop when she entered the market, she remembered the eyes. The other was new. Both were dressed like any other Seoulites in summer: light jackets, neutral tones. But they weren’t shopping. Not really. They were watching. Tracking.

Following.

Truly, it was almost cute how they tried to pass unnoticed. She picked up a jar, pretending to read the label, her fingers tightening subtly on the lid. Her pulse didn’t rise, not much. Just enough to make her sharpen. Not enough to panic. Not yet. Her hand slipped into her purse, slow and unhurried, just a woman about to pay for her groceries. But instead of reaching for her wallet, her fingers brushed against her phone, warm from the press of her palm.

Psycho Killer. The name still made her smile, soft and secret. Equal parts truth and endearment.

Without looking down, she typed a message, fast and fluid: followed. 2 men. apgujeong market.

She hit send, then plucked the jar from the counter with a graceful nod, offering the cashier a small, composed smile as she paid. There was no real need to tell him where she was. He always knew. She knew better than anyone: he was always tracking her. But they both played the game, she pretended not to notice, and he pretended it was not obsession.

It was the rhythm of their relationship: sharp edges tucked beneath clean surfaces. And if those two men following her had any sense, they’d already be running.

And now here she was, outside the market, guiding them like stray dogs on a leash of silence. Her steps were unhurried, her posture relaxed, but every movement was calculated. She led them away from the crowds, away from witnesses, toward a side street that narrowed and quieted the deeper she went. A turn to the left. Then another.

She didn’t recognize the men, but she could guess what this was about. Seong Gi-hun. It always came back to him. Shin had warned her: the man hadn’t stopped digging. Three years of chasing shadows, trying to claw his way back into something he never fully understood. What she couldn’t quite figure out was how they’d managed to find her.

Maybe Shin would figure it out before she did. He usually did.

She entered a narrow alley, quiet, boxed in by brick walls and heavy stillness. A dead end. Perfect.Her heels slowed, then stopped. She reached down to straighten the hem of her dress, smoothing the fabric as if this were just another stroll, another errand. Then, at last, she turned around. The two men stood at the mouth of the alley, still pretending to be subtle. She smiled, slow, amused, like a cat watching mice convince themselves they were lions.

“Gentlemen,” she purred, cigarette already between her fingers. “If you’re going to attempt to kidnap me, the least you could do is buy me dinner first.”

She lit the cigarette with a flick of her thumb, the flame briefly illuminating the glint in her eyes , not fear, not surprise but anticipation.

One of them chuckled at her comment, a sharp, ugly sound that echoed off the alley walls. The other stepped forward, drawing a knife from inside his jacket. Not flashy, not theatrical. Just clean, curved steel. A tool for taking someone quietly.

She sighed.

“Knives? Really?” she said, flicking ash off the end of her cigarette. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

They didn’t answer. They didn’t have to. She let the cigarette drop to the pavement. Then she moved.

Her grocery bag swung up in a wide arc, heavy with the jar and groceries she’d just bought, glass and weight behind it. The first man didn’t expect it; it cracked against his temple with a sickening thud, and he dropped with a grunt, dazed. The second lunged, she pivoted, slamming the edge of the bag into his wrist, knocking the blade just far enough off course to avoid her throat.

She kicked back, fast, efficient, and he stumbled. But the first one was already recovering, blood running down his face now, fury replacing stealth.

It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t some trained choreography. But it was desperate, and she’d always been good when desperate. She dodged, fought, twisted, landed a heel square into one man’s knee, felt it give, but she was only one person. Unarmed. Tiring.

One of them tackled her.

She hit the pavement hard, the concrete scraping her palms, her head snapping back against the ground. For a moment, her breath left her chest in a sharp gasp. A boot pressed to her shoulder.

“Got you now, bitch,” one of them hissed.

She didn’t panic. She laughed, breathless, blood in her mouth, but still laughing.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

And then, everything changed. The air behind them shifted. Not wind but presence. A blur. A flash of movement .And then the Salesman was there. Her Salesman.

No sound. No warning. Just sudden violence.

The first man was yanked off her, slammed into the alley wall so hard the bricks cracked. The second barely had time to turn before Shin drove something ,it could’ve been a blade, or maybe just his hand, into his ribs with brutal precision.

No shouting. No theatrics. Only silence, and the wet sounds of pain as he drove his briefcase to hit the attacker’s head. She sat up slowly, her dress torn, her lip bleeding, and watched him finish it like someone painting, controlled, exact, terrifyingly intimate.

He turned to her when it was over. Not winded. Not shaken.Only watching.

And for a moment one long, electric moment he just stared.Then he stepped toward her, his hands still red, and knelt beside her on the cold concrete.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice soft. Too soft.

She smiled, dizzy, her head still ringing. “A little.”

He knelt beside her, one knee grazing the blood-stained pavement, the scent of copper and cigarette smoke lingering between them. For a moment, he didn’t speak. He only looked — at her torn dress, the blood drying on her skin, the bruise blooming just beneath her jaw. His expression didn’t shift. But his eyes?

His eyes were murderous.

He reached out and touched her lip with a fingertip, featherlight, reverent, then pulled his hand back and looked at the blood like it had personally insulted him. Something cold and precise tightened in his face.

Without a word, he reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a handkerchief, crisp, monogrammed, absurdly clean. Gently, he took her hands, one at a time, wiping away the blood on her palms with practiced care, like he was performing a ritual. His fingers lingered at her wrist, tracing the faint tremble beneath her skin.

Then, finally, he touched her mouth again — dabbing at the corner with the handkerchief, slow and careful, like she was something fragile.

“You should’ve messaged me the moment you felt eyes on you,” he murmured, voice low and dangerously calm. “Not after.”

She tried to roll her eyes, but her breath caught as the cloth pressed against the cut on her lip. “Don’t be so dramatic, jagi,” she said, forcing a smile. “I’m still breathing, aren’t I?”

He stopped, just for a second, that pet name softening something dark inside him. But only for a second.

“Barely,” he said. “And that is the problem.”

Her smile faded. “Who were they?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned his head slightly, eyes flicking back to the bodies crumpled at the far end of the alley, still twitching with residual pain. One was trying to crawl. The other wasn’t moving at all.

“That’s what I intend to find out,” he said coldly. “They followed you. Touched you. Hurt you. That’s more than enough.”

She shifted to stand, but he caught her wrist again, steadier than she felt, and rose with her. In the silence that followed, the city returned — a distant hum of cars, laughter from a café around the corner, the normal world.

But in this alley, time felt suspended.

“Come,” Shin said, his voice back to that unnervingly gentle cadence. “Let’s get you home. Frontman sent a car”

He didn’t say what he would do to the men once she was gone. He didn’t have to. She already knew.

Nam Shin’s penthouse ; Gangnam district; 07:30 PM

A few hours later, the world had quieted.

She stepped out of the bathroom, skin warm and flushed from the shower, the steam still clinging faintly to her limbs. A thick robe hung loosely from her shoulders, the tie knotted at her waist without much effort. Her hair, damp and curling at the ends, left cool traces down her back.

The bedroom was dim — not dark, just muted. Heavy curtains were drawn against the night, and the soft glow of a single bedside lamp cast amber light across the space. The bed itself was too large for two people who rarely shared it at the same time, dressed in black silk sheets and a blanket in muted charcoal. Clean lines. Cool tones. But hers was the only scent in the room now, faint citrus and soap, curling into the corners like memory.

She sat on the edge of the mattress, letting herself sink into the softness. Every muscle ached, not with pain anymore, but with the thick, echoing weight of exhaustion. She curled beneath one of the blankets, the comfort instant and quiet. Her limbs heavy. Her breath slowing.

And exactly one hour later, she heard the door open.No knock. Just the familiar, measured rhythm of his footsteps.

She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was Shin. She knew how he walked — calm, controlled, almost silent, but never quite. Like even his silence had purpose.

He crossed the room without a word, stopping at the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly as he leaned in. He reached for the blanket she’d barely pulled up and adjusted it gently, tucking it beneath her shoulder. Then, without hesitation, he pressed a kiss to her forehead — soft, slow, reverent.

Her eyes fluttered open, half-lidded, her lashes brushing the curve of her cheek. A small smile crept across her lips.

“You’re so sappy when I almost die,” she murmured, voice hoarse with sleep. “Psycho.”

He exhaled , not quite a laugh. But close.

“I’d be devastated if you did,” he said quietly, his hand brushing her damp hair back from her face. “Then I’d have to kill someone for ruining the only thing in this world I actually care about.”

She sighed, not out of fear, but with that strange, fragile affection that only they shared. A love forged in blood and silence and violence too quiet for the world outside.

She sighed into the pillow, the silk cool against her cheek, her body too tired to move but her mind humming — not fear, not adrenaline anymore, just the warm, woozy aftermath of survival. Of being hunted, and protected. Of being his.

He was still kneeling beside the bed, his fingers in her hair, carding through the damp strands like he was memorizing her all over again.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper, thick with sleep and something heavier. “Is that a love confession, Salesman?”

A pause. Then a breath, low, amused, dangerous.

“You’re my wife,” he said, brushing his knuckles down the curve of her jaw. “You know exactly what it is.”

His hand slid lower, from her cheek to her neck, soft at first, then firmer, his thumb stroking the pulse point like he was feeling her heartbeat just to reassure himself it was still there. Still his. Still alive.

“I spend all day getting blood off my shoes,” he murmured. “But you bleed, and I lose my mind.”

She smiled again, slow and wicked, eyes still closed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Shin laughed, a low sound, intimate and dark. “You married a lunatic,” he said, letting his lips brush just below her ear, voice warm as breath. “What did you expect?”

“I expected to be spoiled.”

“You are.”

One hand slid under the blanket, possessive, unhurried, trailing down her side as he leaned further in. His mouth followed the curve of her neck, his breath hotter now, his restraint thinner than it had been moments ago.

“Almost lost you today,” he said quietly, more to himself than to her. “That doesn’t happen again.”

There was no question in it. No room for argument. Just that awful, beautiful certainty. Her fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer. Her voice was softer now, and far more dangerous.

“Then remind me who I belong to.”

He growled low in his throat, and the rest of the blanket was gone.Her fingers curled into his shirt, tugging him closer, and Shin moved without hesitation — smooth, quiet, controlled. Like a weapon unsheathed. He climbed onto the bed, the mattress dipping under his weight, the silk sheets shifting around them like water. One hand braced near her head, the other sliding beneath the edge of her robe with no pretense of shyness.

His eyes trailed over her like he was checking for injuries — not just concern, but possession. Obsession.

“You don’t get to almost die on me,” he said, voice low, cold. “Not without consequences.”

She arched a brow, amused despite the echo of bruises beneath her skin. “What, are you going to punish me for surviving?”

“No.” His hand closed around her hip. “For not letting me kill them sooner.”

She laughed, breathless, wicked. “God, you’re insane.”

“I know,” he said simply. “And you're still here.”

He leaned down and kissed her, not soft, not tender. Feral. Claiming. His teeth grazed her lower lip, and when she gasped, he deepened it, hand moving to her throat. Not tight. Not yet. Just a reminder. A warning.

Her robe parted easily beneath his grip, her skin still warm from the shower, vulnerable in a way he both worshipped and resented. He hated seeing her like this after a fight, after a scare but he couldn’t help needing her like this, too. Just to prove she was his. Still breathing. Still here.

“You don’t get to leave me,” he whispered into her mouth. “Ever.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t need to.

She pulled him in harder, her kiss just as vicious as his, nails dragging across the back of his neck. His hand tangled in her damp hair, tilting her head to kiss her deeper, rougher. She let him welcomed it, the edge of violence always laced into their affection.

The room went quiet but for the sounds of silk rustling, breath hitching, and the low growl in his throat when she bit his lip in return.

He pushed her down against the pillows, breath hot against her ear.

“Mine,” he said. Not a question.

“Yours,” she whispered. Not a lie.

The lamp flickered. Her robe slipped. And the city outside never heard a thing.

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twisted-broth · 2 months ago

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Emergency Rendezvous

Introduction

TW: accidental drugging, aphrodisiacs (no actual smut yet but reader is v horny)

You swat Grim's paws away from the ingredients on the table for the third time while Crewel continued explaining the science behind your assigned potion. He grumbled impatiently, resting his chin on the workbench. With the hand not prepared to Throw Down, you copied Crewel's drawing of some kind of chemical synapse with little bubbles in between labeled "endorphins".

"What makes this solution so potent is the ability of our magic ingredients to act directly on endorphin-releasing pathways in the brain, encouraging the body's natural painkiller system rather than introducing an artificial one. This greatly reduces the risk of addiction seen in non-magical analgesics. While this potion is relatively low risk, and hopefully easy enough that even you pups can't mess it up, there is a significant overlap with nearby pathways that may produce unintended effects. I trust that I've trained you properly enough to thoroughly check the labels on your ingredients and weigh them carefully."

The moment Crewel ended his lecture, Grim was grabbing at the various powders and herbs. With barely a glance given to the textbook in between you two, he started haphazardly shaking the magical- and probably expensive- elements into a weigh boat on the scale.

"Grim! What part of 'read the label' did you not understand?" You reach for the bottle, but are too slow to stop Grim from tossing the ingredient into your cauldron. You sigh wearily, resigned to leave the fate of your grade in Grim's trigger-happy paws. You manage to double check most of the ingredients before they're added to the mix, surprisingly in the correct order. After over a year spent with your troublesome pet/friend/roommate/co-student, you've learned to adopt an "it is what it is" mindset.

When the concoction is finally done, you're honestly shocked to see that your potion is the same color as everyone else's. To make it even better, nothing exploded in the process! You swirled the blue potion around in the flask, admiring the iridescent tone.

"Good dogs!" Crewel congratulated the class, almost sounding surprised that nothing had gone wrong. "Since you've all signed your waivers, and the risk associated is low, I'll allow you to test your products now or save them for later. If you experience any adverse side effects, inform me at once. Class dismissed!"

You eyed the potion on the desk in front of you, weighing the risks it posed. A tap on your shoulder stole your attention, and you swiveled around to see Ace sporting his usual self-righteous smirk. Beside him, Deuce was curiously sniffing their own creation.

"What d'ya think, prefect? Gonna give it a taste test?"

You respond with a weary laugh, finding that the shimmer of the potion was becoming less and less appealing. "I don't know... I mean I don't really have any pain right now. I guess my back is a bit sore?" You reply noncommittally.

Ace rolled his eyes with a tsk. "Aw, c'mon! Crewel never lets us try the potions we make. I, for one, have a killer headache. Cough it up Loosey Deucey!"

Ace swipes the flask from Deuce's hands, ignoring his scoff of protest. With disturbingly little hesitation, he downs the potion in seconds and licks the stray blue droplets from the corner of his mouth. The three of you watch him with mixed expressions of anxiety and curiosity, waiting for the potion to take effect. After another minute or so, Ace's eyes widened in excitement. "Hey, it's totally working! Damn that's a lot better!"

"And of course you had to go and hog it all to yourself," Deuce grumbled, resting his head on the workbench.

Grim pushed your experimental product closer to you. "Well? Go on, henchhuman! Anything the Great Grim makes will be 10x better than those two."

You raised an eyebrow, highly doubtful of Grim's claim considering his disregard for proper measurements. You open your mouth to voice your hesitation, but the excitement in his eyes gives you pause. Well, Crewel did say the potion was pretty low-risk, even if you did make it wrong. And you suppose even Grim deserves some semblance of a win on occasion. With a heavy sigh, you raise the flask to your lips and down the concoction.

You're pleasantly surprised by how good it tastes. Not that you were really paying attention to the ingredients, but you just assumed it would be terrible. Instead, the faint taste of honeysuckle and lavender dances across your tongue, gracing your throat with a warm coating on the way down. You can trace the warmth down your chest and into the stomach, where it slowly dissipates throughout the rest of your body. Despite the pleasant sensation, you say with certainty that your back ache had gone away. Rather, you were distracted from the dull pain as the same warm feeling flooded and settled in your groin.

Either from the potion or the realization of your situation, a furious blush burned your cheeks and ears. It took nearly a minute for you to regain your composure and notice the voices of your friends calling out to you in concern.

"Y/n! Are you alright?" Deuce gently placed a hand on your forearm, trying to bring you back to reality. You gasp at the touch, quickly withdrawing your arm as though you had been burned. Noticing your friends hurt expression, you cleared your throat in embarrassment.

"Sorry! Just a different sensation than I was expecting. You did great Grim! It works really well." You laugh unconvincingly, already feeling a drop of sweat budding at your temple.

Ignoring the various expressions of concern and confusion, you stand up abruptly, nearly knocking your chair over in the process. You make quick work of gathering your belongings, using all your focus to hold onto your last bit of composure.

"Sorry guys, I forgot that I uh... told Azul I would help out at the lounge! It'll be suuuuper boring though, so you guys should go on without me. I'll catch up to you later!" Without leaving room for protest, you rushed out of the lab room, hiding your beet-red face behind your free hand.

Within minutes, you were urgently knocking on Crewel's office door. The sudden noise summoned two large black noses to the narrow gap under the door where they sniffed intently at your feet. From within the office, you hear Crewel call out for you to enter. The dogs retreat from the door at the sound of their master's voice, allowing you space to slip in and close the door quickly behind you.

Although Crewel initially only glances in your direction, he does a double take at the sight of your flushed face and sweat-drenched brow. Two lanky Dalmatians regard you with mild intrigue from their large bed in the corner, where they lay daintily on top of one another. A rare look of concern crosses Crewel's features. "Prefect? Are you alright?"

You stay pressed against the door, trying to distance yourself from the tempting scent of Crewel's cologne. Your hand feebly attempts to cover your nose and mouth, and you shake your head no. "O-our potion," you stutter, "I think something went wrong".

Continuing to test your self control, Crewel stands and approaches you, assessing your vulnerable state. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead to feel for a fever. To your continued humiliation, a quiet whine escapes you at the contact. His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly dawns a mask of professionalism as he retracts his hand.

"I see. Well, as I mentioned in lecture, slight alterations in the potion's formula can trigger alternate pathways which are also mediated by endorphins. One such pathway is the arousal pathway. It would seem that significant enough errors were made that your potion activated your arousal pathway, rather than the intended pain relief pathway". He explains the error matter-of-factly, returning to his desk.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief. Arousal pathway? Doesn't the universe ever get tired of playing practical jokes on you? The persistent throbbing in your core sent the clear message that it doesn't. You groan, burying your face in your hands in an attempt to disappear from the face of the earth. "Can you undo it?"

"I'm afraid the only inhibitor of such endorphins is prolactin, the neurotransmitter released after orgasm. Unfortunately, we've yet to artificially synthesize an effective substitute. Otherwise, your body should metabolize the potion in eight hours." You were appreciative of Crewel's calm and even tone. Even if it didn't cure your current predicament, maybe you'll be able to look him in the eyes again someday.

Making the choice to not dig this hole even deeper, you gave him a grateful bow and quickly departed. Your mind was swimming as you made a beeline for Ramshackle, hoping to make it home before your knees started buckling. At last, you shut the door to your quiet dorm building. Your heart pounded in your ears, though if it was racing from the speed walking or the overwhelming arousal coursing through your blood, you weren't sure.

In any case, your options were to suffer for eight hours, or to get fucked. Well, you would be fucked either way. Your legs finally gave out by the time you had crawled to your bed and curled up on your side. The pillow trapped between your thighs did little to reduce the pressure that consumed every thought. As you stripped down to your underwear, your trembling fingers and raging heart made it very apparent that you weren't in any state to be able to take care of this yourself.

Several faces flashed through your mind, innocent encounters with your friends being quickly perverted in your brain. With less apprehension than was probably warranted, you pulled out your phone and opened your contacts. It wasn't an impressively long list, but nonetheless you quickly found the name you were looking for. The voice of reason in your head insisted that you would never live this down, but it was quickly gagged by the larger majority of your brain that was begging to be fucked.

With shaky hand, you pressed the call button.

A/n: if you missed the poll, I'm hoping to make this a series (no promises). Either way, the first victim will be Leona 😮‍💨

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chiasparks · 6 months ago

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shopping headcanons!

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨🛒୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

ship: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 765

authors note: light hearted hc’s since ive been writing a lot of hurt/comfort. next fic is gonna be a little painful, so im giving a fluff offering before that! this one was really fun to write :) no warnings!! this was inspired by my recent shopping trip lolol, enjoy!

===========

shopping with bucky wasn’t easy. the few times you convinced him to go with you, he stayed a little grumpy throughout the trip. he mostly went to keep you safe, to watch you while you were in the zone. the times he didn’t go, he constantly checked your location, similar to a worried mother. when you came home, he would pepper kisses around you, exhaling in relief that you came home safely.

when shopping for groceries, he spent most of the time scoffing at the prices. almost as if on command, he would say, “back in my day, milk was a quarter”, or something of that nature. that always made you giggle and roll your eyes, so he was glad that his annoyance with inflation made you smile. he would try to buy 10 pounds of beef behind your back, but when you caught him, you both negotiated a reasonable amount to keep.

he would often visit the fruit section, and see if plums were in season. if plums weren’t there, his second option were mangoes, and if those weren’t there he would get oranges. despite how much he complained about going to the store, he enjoyed seeing you concentrated on the products, and making a calculated choice. he also enjoyed seeing other people, wondering why they were there. he would assign them backstories, for example: a nervous teenage boy in the flower section was about to go on his first date, an older woman with a warm appearance was buying ingredients to make brownies for her grandchildren, etc. it brought him some feeling of comfort, as if he was just another civilian with no other care. that, of course, wasn’t the case, but he liked to imagine it anyway.

when shopping for gifts, he would always suggest a candle, because that was the first thing you gifted him. he liked watching the little flame flicker, and was mesmerized by the comforting smell. he would ask you to buy a candle for him every time you went out the store, with an excuse that he ran out of his last one. he kept a secret collection underneath the bed, thinking you didn’t know. of course you knew, but you went along anyway, to please him. he was always excited to see what new smell you brought him this time, and kept certain smells in specific places. fruity for the bathroom, spice for the living room, citrus for the kitchen, eucalyptus and fresh linen for the laundry room. he had a whole system, and would change candles out for holidays. you enjoyed seeing him passionate about something, plus it made your house always smell good, so you never complained.

when shopping for household items, he suggested to buy in bulk, so as to make fewer trips overall. you agreed, but you both had different ideas as to what “in bulk” was. for you, it was buying a reasonable amount of toilet paper to last six months. for him, it was buying enough to last five years. you managed to compromise and land for 18 months, but you were always embarrassed checking out, because the cashier always had an amused look when seeing the amount of toiler paper in your shopping cart.

when checking out, you always paid in joint. he would pay half, and as would you, unless there were special circumstances. after paying his half, he would excuse himself, saying he needed to go to the bathroom or something. he then would run to the flower section of the store, grab a bouquet that you were eyeing, and pay through self checkout. by the time he finished paying, so did you, and he met up with you, bouquet in hand. despite how many times you told him not to spend money on those sorts of things, you always had the biggest smile on your face, so he never listened to you.

when unloading the shopping bags into the car, he would hand you a few bags, and escort you to the passenger seat. he didn’t want you doing a lot of work, plus he liked being the one to organize what goes where.

after arriving to your home, you would take a few bags and unlock the front door, returning to grab more bags. you’d always see him with all of the bags in his metal hand, and the other hand closing the trunk. he would smile sheepishly and hand you two bags from the bunch.

shopping with bucky wasn’t easy, but it certainly was entertaining.

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lucid-heart · 5 months ago

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Hello… Can I ask for a sex pollen fic about Agatha x reader where reader is infected?

👀👀 I take a long time writng but here we go! First time writing sex pollen so it's relatively tame and consentual (considering sex pollen as a concept). I hope you enjoy! I'll be uploading the fully edited version on my AO3 in a few days (when I get around to it) 😚

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x F!Reader

Tags: established relationship, vaginal fingering, minor choking, sub!reader

Read on AO3

"F-Fuck," you groan as you stumble into your home. "What- What was that?"

Agatha, who has an arm wrapped around your waist, keeps you support until the two of you make it inside. She waves a hand and shuts the door behind you.

"That, my dear," she says, rolling her eyes in frustration, "was sex pollen."

"What?!"

She guides you into a chair and starts bustling around your kitchen. You watch as she starts gathering random ingredients and tossing them into a pot.

"It's harmless," she says. "Well. Mostly. I should be able to brew an antidote."

You hope so. Because at this point, after stumbling your way back from the forest, your body has begun to tremble. Shivers roll down your spine and yet you aren't cold. Quite the opposite. Heat spreads through your chest, flushing your cheeks until they're a deep red.

And it doesn't stop there.

By the time Agatha looks over at you again, you have started to pant.

"Oh." She puts down the vial in her hand and crosses over to you. "Well. It seems to have taken quite a root in you, my love."

"What... What's happening to me?" you gasp.

She rests the back of her hand against your forehead to check your temperature but the feeling of her touch has heat rushing to your core. You moan despite yourself. And Agatha's eyes widen.

"Sex pollen is named for... well..." Her lips quirk in amusement as your plight. "The affects of has on the body. It's an aphrodisiac. And this one looks to be particularly strong."

Everywhere burns. You stare up at her, lips parting in a needy whine.

She takes your chin in her hand and tilts your head back, gazing down at you with dark eyes.

"T-The antidote?" you manage.

Your eyes slide past her to the potion ingredients discarded on the counter. Your pulse quickens and your palms feel sweaty.

"I could make it," she admits. "It would relieve your symptoms. But fortunately, there is a much easier solution, darling."

"And that is-?"

Agatha leans down and kisses you, hard. You moan at the feeling of her soft lips pressing against yours. She steps between your legs, bearing down on you, hands reaching to cup your face. It's amazing but you want more. You need more.

Agatha, as if sensing your pull, slowly lowers herself until she's kneeling between your legs, not breaking the kiss. Her hands lower from your face so she can squeeze your thighs.

"Aren't you a needy one?" she murmurs against your mouth.

"Fuck," you groan. "Agatha-"

"Careful, (Y/N)," she purrs. "You know I like it when you're desperate."

Heat pools between your legs and you shift in your seat, seeking any touch, any pressure to ease the ache of your pussy. You reach for her but she grabs your wrists.

"Agatha," you repeat. "Please. Please, oh god, I need you badly."

"I know." Her eyes flash purple. "Don't worry. I'll take good care of you."

You don't doubt it, not when she's looking like she wants to devour you. Agatha wasn't hit by the pollen and yet you can feel the burning desire coursing through her.

"Sit back, pretty girl," Agatha purrs. "Let's get this out of your system."

You expect her to kiss you again. What you don't expect it the wave of heat spreading through your skin. You grasp at her needily, desperate for any contact, any touch. And she's all too willing to give it to you.

Agatha's lips crash against yours, a mess of tongue and teeth, parting your mouth so she can press inside. She kisses you thoroughly until you've gone dizzy. Or perhaps that's just the sex pollen getting to you. She tugs at your bottom lip until it stings.

"Agatha," you gasp. "Please-!"

"Hush," she murmurs. She trails a hand down your chest, teasing the thin layer of fabric separating the two of you. "Let me play."

Play? It doesn't feel like playing, not as she's grabbing you over your clothes. Agatha always has been a tease. She enjoys riling you up until you whimper and beg, likes the power play of holding that desire right out of your reach. Except today, you don't need the build up or foreplay. You're already soaking and needy for her.

Agatha kisses a line across your cheek until she reaches your jaw. She sucks a hard mark into your skin and hums her appreciation.

She continues down, along the column of your throat, down to the neckline of your shirt. You grab the bottom and tug it over your head.

"Delightful," Agatha says, and her eyes gleam.

Her hands roam over you and you arch into her palms. She slips a hand under your bra, taking a greedy handful as you moan. It doesn't take her long to take it off completely and then her mouth is on you.

"Fuck!" you gasp. "Agatha, oh my-!"

That wicked tongue flicks over your hardened nipple as she takes it between her lips. Any word you could have gasped is erased from your mind. All you know is her and her lips.

Reaching out blindly, you find her wrist and drag it between your legs, desperately seeking the press of her inside you.

"Oh, you poor thing," Agatha breathes. "Soaking through your clothes, are you?"

You bite your lip and groan as she presses her fingers along the length of fabric. You're so sensitive that each motion has your hips jumping, seeking more, wanting her. You look at her, words coming up in a whine.

"I need you," you gasp. "So badly. Please. Please. Just- Anything."

Agatha pauses for a moment and you see the cruel flash of her eyes. She has you completely at her mercy.

But she takes pity on you, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Anything for you, my love."

It takes her moments to undo the button of your pants and to slide her hand inside but those moments feel like eternity. Your chest rises and falls in needy pants, hands falling to grasp the chair beneath you. Good, because you need to support as her fingers find your wet pussy, soaked through your underwear.

Agatha teases at first, circling your entrance, not pushing inside like you want.

"Agatha-!" you whine.

Her free hand catches you around the throat and she pins you back to the armchair with a powerful arm. She smiles at you.

"Now, now. Let me."

Your throat bobs against her palm as you surrender to her.

The tips of her fingers press to where you need it most and you moan, hips stuttering against her. This time, she does indulge you. Two fingers slide into you and it's heavenly. You take her gracefully as she starts to thrust.

Harder, faster, she quickly finds a rhythm that has your nails digging into the arms of the chair.

"Yes, oh god! Just like that!" you moan.

She leans down and kisses you, drinking your moans as she thrusts her fingers in your wet pussy. She is devastating in all the right ways, able to play your body until you can't help yourself. Every nerve feels like it's on fire and you're going to explode.

The noises that you're making is filthy but you could hardly care. Not when she's knuckle deep in you, destroying you from the inside out.

"Go ahead, my love," Agatha murmurs.

You cry out her name as you come. She kisses you again, swallowing your noises of pleasure. She murmurs something to you, a note of praise, but you don't hear it exactly. Not as the blood rushes around your ears and your heart sings for her.

"Fuck," you mumble. "That was..."

"Good," Agatha finishes. "But not enough to satisfy you."

You open your mouth to refute it but you feel the warmth simmering in your gut. The crave, the desire for more. She hasn't pulled out yet, fingers still inside you. You squirm, cheeks flushing.

"Don't worry," Agatha says, as she sinks to her knees. "I'll make sure to flush every bit of that pollen from your system."

And you don't doubt that she will.

#agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agatha all along #mcu #agatha harkness x you #lucid writing

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sgsystemsglobal · 9 months ago

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Ingredient Management Software: Streamlining Culinary Operations

Ingredient Management Software is a powerful tool designed to optimize the procurement, tracking, and utilization of ingredients in food production. By centralizing data, this software enables businesses to manage inventory efficiently, minimize waste, and ensure compliance with food safety regulations. Users can easily monitor stock levels, track expiration dates, and analyze purchasing trends, allowing for informed decision-making and cost control. With features like recipe scaling and allergen management, this software enhances productivity and consistency in culinary operations. Embrace Ingredient Management Software to elevate your food service efficiency and maintain the highest quality standards.

#Ingredient Management Software #Ingredient Management System #Ingredient Traceability System #Ingredient Batching System

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aria-but-horny · 4 months ago

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Aria's Ask Game

ok ok, inspired by that ask game, I was talking with n@ and wanted to make my own full of important questions.

What color are your eyes?

Do you like being asked questions?

What’s your lucky number?

When's your birthday?

Do you have any pets?

Do you enjoy what you do with your time?

What's your favorite way to spend a weekend?

Do you like traveling?

Do you struggle with anxiety?

How important is your family to you?

What's your mother's maiden name?

What's the most important lesson that you've learned over the years?

What do you think the purpose of your life is?

What do you wish you had more time to do?

What was the name of the street you grew up on?

How loudly can you scream?

How do you like to stay updated on current events?

Do you have any siblings?

How many people would go looking for you if you suddenly disappeared?

What kind of music do you enjoy?

How fast can you run?

Have you ever had a secret admirer?

What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

What are you allergic to?

What kinds of food do you like?

What kinds of food remind you of home?

Do you ever cook for yourself?

What food and ingredients do you think a kitchen should be stocked with?

What's your social security number?

What do you do to try to stay active?

Do you enjoy spending time outdoors?

What's your phone's password?

What was your least favorite food as a kid?

How tall are you?

Do you have a favorite sport?

Does white noise help you sleep?

What color is your shirt?

Do you think you could fall in love with your secret admirer?

What's a skill you're proud of?

What position do you sleep in?

Do you sleep near any windows?

Do you keep a spare key outside your door? If so, where do you leave it?

Are you a light sleeper or a heavy sleeper?

When you wake up in the middle of the night, how long does it take you to fall back to sleep?

What’s the best joke you’ve ever heard?

What’s the last thing that made you cry?

What are your top five movies that you can watch over and over?

Is there a hobby you’ve always wanted to try?

How well do you handle boredom?

How's your pain tolerance?

Can you do your own laundry?

Are you into bondage?

Have you ever fantasized about being with a secret admirer?

Are you a good liar?

Have you ever been handcuffed before?

Did you grow up in a large house?

What's a topic you always love to talk about?

What part of your body is most sensitive to pain?

What's your phone's operating system?

Do you have any allergies or medical conditions that might cause complications with long term sedation?

How loudly can you scream?

How long would it take for your spirit to break if you were locked in a room with no hope of getting out?

What’s your funniest relationship dealbreaker?

Do you ever think about your beliefs and how they’ve changed over time?

Does your phone have GPS tracking enabled?

How hard is it to get you to consent?

What’s your favorite holiday?

What's your favorite type of pain to receive?

What’s your favorite midnight snack?

Would you rather your secret admirer dressed up or dressed down for when you meet her?

What’s your latest guilty pleasure?

Do you have an oral fixation?

Coffee or tea?

Are you trained in self-defense?

What’s your biggest fear?

Do you have any tips for time management?

What are some difficult lessons you’ve learned from past relationships?

Do you think your face would look good on a missing poster?

If you could live in any movie, which one would it be?

What’s your idea of a perfect vacation?

What’s your go-to karaoke song?

How much pain could you take before you stopped resisting?

What was your first job?

What makes you feel better when you're stressed?

How do you feel about making life-changing decisions on a whim?

What’s one thing you’re deeply passionate about?

What would you choose if you had to choose one meal to eat for the rest of your life?

Do you like meeting new people?

Is there anything you’re afraid you won’t accomplish?

What’s number one on your bucket list?

Does high humidity mess with your skin or hair?

What's the longest amount of time you've spent alone?

Do you believe that negative reinforcement works?

Do you find basements or attics cozier to spend time in?

What's the longest you've gone without eating?

Do you love me?

How much do you love me?

Do you think that love requires sacrifice?

If I kidnapped you and kept you in my basement would you still love me?

Does your therapist do telehealth?

#also inspired by how many common social questions sound really creepy if you ask them the right way

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playedwright · 3 months ago

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please do 4 or 28 or 36 for buddie my beautiful stunning wife 💕 whichever you like 😘

YIPPEE YIPPEE thank u my love<3 bc i am crazy i somehow managed to work all prompts in. don't ask me how my brain is lava now.

4. "How long do we have?" + 28. "Is that a threat?" 36. "I wasn't going to mention it."

"So," Eddie says, settling into the couch. Buck's face is beaming at him from his phone screen--he looks nice, in the way he has in most of their calls recently, wearing a hoodie and an apron because he calls Eddie when he cooks, and Eddie loves it. He loves it. He loves--

"So?" Buck prods. He's making some fancy dessert, tarte au chocolat, he'd told Eddie, saying the words slowly to keep from messing up. Maddie's pregnancy is bringing chocolate cravings this time around, he'd said, and she had finally worn him down into making something for her.

"So," continues Eddie, "you're making Maddie a French dessert because she's craving chocolate. What's wrong with good old-fashioned chocolate cake?"

Buck laughs a little, shaking his head. There's a small streak of melted chocolate on his cheek, so faint Eddie can barely see it through the camera. For some reason Eddie can't make sense of, it's all he can focus on. "I owe her something big. I've been, uh... ignoring her, kind of. Dodging something she keeps trying to bring up. But as she not so subtly pointed out, I've been the asshole ignoring his pregnant sister. So, fancy French dessert to make up for it."

Eddie hums. In the past couple of weeks that he's been gone, that he's spent calling Buck every day, he's grown used to watching Buck cook. Watching him measure ingredients carefully when he's baking, or substituting when he's cooking, watching him mouth along to the recipe as he double checks that he's got it right, watching the way he lights up as it all comes together. He thinks he could spend the rest of his life watching Buck cook and never grow tired of it.

"What were you ignoring?" he asks.

Buck seems focused on the eggs he cracks into a bowl. "Hm?"

"Maddie. What's the subject you kept trying to avoid?"

Eddie and Buck worked side by side for years--so close that Eddie grew to know what every push and pull of Buck's movements meant. So he knows, by the way Buck's face goes carefully blank, by the way his eyes tighten as he refuses to look away from the bowl, by the way his hands move a little too quickly for someone who has been taking his time up until this point.

"Oh," Buck says, voice light. Eddie's still staring at that damn streak of chocolate on his cheek, wanting suddenly--shockingly--to press his lips there to taste. "It was nothing."

"Buck, c'mon, clearly it wasn't nothing. You know you can tell me anything. Don't make me fly out there and force it out of you."

The laugh that bursts out of Buck sounds almost strangled, surprising Eddie. "Is that a threat?"

Eddie shrugs. "If it needs to be."

"Jeez, don't waste your money," Buck mutters. "It's really not that big of a deal. It's just--look, a few weeks ago, I saw Tommy again. Don't--don't make that face. The point is, he kind of... implied that I have feelings for you. And when I told Maddie about it, she took that as her invitation to talk it to death. I told her there wasn't anything to talk about."

Eddie--

He thinks he blue-screens. He doesn't really know how else to describe it, except that one second his systems are running as normal and then the next someone has force-quit the entire thing. He's not even sure he's blinking.

Because--

"Did we lose connection?" Buck says, laughing nervously. "Eddie--"

"Feelings for me?" Eddie blurts out. "You--"

"No," Buck interrupts quickly. Too quickly. Eddie thinks he might be having a heart attack. His face is numb. "No, it's not--no, Eddie, it's just that, we're close, and Tommy was threatened by that, or something. And you know how Maddie gets, once she gets an idea in her head it's impossible to get out. So it's just. Like I said, it's nothing."

"It's not nothing," Eddie says a little hysterically. "Do you...?"

Buck hesitates for just a second too long.

And that--

After years of system reboots and struggling to feel normal and never really feeling like he knew himself, everything comes back online. Every stray wire connects.

Buck has feelings for him.

And Eddie--Eddie has been in love with him for years.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Buck murmurs. His ears are pink, and he shifts his weight from foot to foot, and he's one of the most beautiful things Eddie has ever seen.

"Buck," Eddie breathes.

"Don't," whispers Buck, eyes downcast. Eddie wants to be there with him, wants to cradle Buck's face in his hands, wishes he could look him in the eye as they talk about this. He wants, desperately, to kiss the chocolate off of Buck's cheek. "It's fine, Eddie. You don't have to say anything."

"Buck," Eddie says insistently. "Mention it, baby. Never stop mentioning it. Say it so I can tell you that I feel the same."

Buck blinks in shock. There's a bowl in front of him, with a dessert he's still in the middle of making for his sister, and there's eight hundred and sixteen miles between them, and Eddie loves him. A forever kind of love. He can't believe that five minutes ago, he didn't even know it existed.

"You--" Buck starts. His jaw works slowly as he processes.

"We aren't going to tell each other for the first time over FaceTime," Eddie decides, and in that moment he starts wondering how quickly he can pack a bag for him and Chris and get them to the airport for a weekend trip. Or, he thinks a little crazily, spring break. It's soon enough. "Because I'm flying out to see you, and I'm gonna say it then, but--Buck. Please, just. Mention it, okay?"

Buck's smiling from ear to ear. Beaming, really, so bright it's glowing through the screen, and Eddie loves him and loves him and loves him. All he says is, "Okay," and then Eddie knows his returning grin is just as bright.

"When Chris gets home, we're gonna look at flights," Eddie tells him, a little hysterical with how giddy he suddenly feels. "I'll text you all the details. He should be home soon."

"Okay," Buck says again. His eyes light up. "What about until then?"

"What do you mean?"

Buck steps back from the camera a bit, giving himself space to put the dessert in the oven. Eddie had almost forgotten that's what he'd been doing at all. When he's done, he leans against the island and puts a hand on his belt. There's a smirk on his face that sends a rush of want right down Eddie's spine. "I mean, this dessert has to bake for a while. And Christopher isn't home. What should we do until then?"

Eddie is powerless to do anything else. He swallows and says thickly, quietly, "How long do we have?"

#buddie #buddie ficlet #911 #well!!! if there are spelling or grammar errors in this no there arent bc i do not care<3 xoxo gossip mars #THANK U BEAUTIFUL WIFE CAIT this is the most i have written in months we love to see me breaking free from writers block #answered #hyruling aka wife tag

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ancientnapdragon · 3 months ago

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Thinking of my Food Peak Sy AU

So like, SY is basically using System-cheat cookbooks to "create" food from modern times. With like PIDW flavored plants and monsters as a way to get ingredients he shouldn't have. And he's like bestie with SJ. And they're also disciples. This is all context for if you don't wanna look at the other posts.

But like, so SJ is basically his taste tester, right? After they're friends tho it wouldn't be like begrudging and SY would just show him weird shit for fun.

So you know like? Those chocolate domes you melt and they have cute stuff inside? SY managed to figure out how to make those and has been playing with them for a bit but he's not shown anyone because he could never get the flavor just right!

But SJ's like birthday (as far as either of them know it) is coming up and SY wanted to make him something special. For totally not-gay reasons of course! So after a day of like duties they meet up and SY gives him his present and then takes out the like special bowl with this dome.

Puts on this lil show of pouring some hot milk over it until it melts down and under the dome is like this super delicate cake he made just for SJ. It's super pretty on top of just tasting delicious. Plus SJ gets to be like the first person (outside of SY) to taste xianxia chocolate. The Wifebeam is fully active so like. SY smiles so handsomely and the moonlight is like perfect and he just looks sooooo sweet and kind.

I think I would have proposed right then and there tbh

This doesn't have any ending i just randomly had the idea of SY giving SJ chocolate and thought it would be cute

#svsss #shen yuan #shen jiu #jiuyuan #food peak au

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mapsthewanderer · 4 months ago

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If you were to run a kitchen with the LADS guys…

I’m rewatching The Bear (yes the series) and my brain just exploded—like a proper “wait… wait… WAIT” moment. AU, who? Just… bear with me, heeeh. Omg, sorry.

Details: 1500ish words of my creativity just going completely bonkers. This became a pilot! Yaaay, check masterlist for more

🔪 Xavier – Kitchen Assistant / “The Quiet Backbone”

🩷 “Tell me what you need. I’ll handle the rest.” Said barely above a whisper, while slipping fresh gloves into your hand mid-rush. He didn’t wait for thanks—he was already gone.

Station: Not technically a cook—floats between prep, cleaning, organizing, managing back-of-house chaos. Exceptionally bad at cooking.

Description: Xavier is… not a chef. Everyone learned that quickly, after The Incident With The Eggs. But what he is, is the person who keeps the place from crumbling. He keeps stock rotated, ingredients labeled, knives sharpened, and people from losing their minds.

He doesn’t say much. Always calm, always focused. He moves through the kitchen like part of the architecture—quietly fixing things, cleaning messes before they spread, handing you what you need before you ask. He’ll offer you a rag when you’re bleeding and a chocolate when you’re about to scream.

He’s incredibly bad with flavor—puts sugar in sauces, burns toast—but he’s strangely brilliant at tasks that require repetition and quiet focus: peeling, organizing, cleaning fish (if someone else cooks them). He’ll never be on the line, and he’s fine with that.

He’s a calming presence for you. A quiet safe space. And he always offers you the best bite of whatever he is eating, like a quiet little ritual.

Vibe: Steady. Awkward. Gentle. The heartbeat of the kitchen no one sees—but everyone needs.

Xavier calls

Caleb: “Boss.” No frills. No question. Caleb runs the kitchen, and Xavier follows. Simple as that. Occasionally: “Captain.” When Caleb’s in full command mode.

Rafayel: “Loud one.” Observational. Said like he’s describing the weather. Sometimes: “Glitter.” When Rafayel’s mood and outfit both shine.

Zayne: “Sharp one.” Respectful. Quiet. Rare praise. Occasionally: “Edge.” For when Zayne’s intensity gets a little too pointed.

Sylus: “Other Boss.” Always with a neutral tone. Not sarcastic—just factual. Sylus hates it. Once: “Red tie.” The one time Sylus broke his all-black look. Xavier logged it like a system update.

Xavier calls you:

“Chef.” Neutral, respectful. Used in front of others, especially during service. Occasionally: “Second set.” His personal nickname for you. Quiet, private. It means you’re his other half in the kitchen—his extra pair of hands, eyes, instinct. It’s not about rank. It’s about sync.

🔪Caleb – Head Chef / “The Machine”

🧡 “I’ve got the kitchen. You just breathe.” Said like an order—but only to you. Said during chaos, when the printer won’t stop and the pans are burning. He didn’t touch you, didn’t need to. His steadiness was enough.

Station: Runs the whole kitchen. Controls the pass. Oversees every dish, every second.

Description: Once a rising star in fine dining, Caleb burned out in the brutal world of elite gastronomy—and rebuilt himself into something sharper, more contained. He doesn’t yell—he commands. Every dish goes through him. Every mistake is his to erase. He’s fire, held tight under pressure, and his perfectionism is legendary. If something’s off, he’ll fix it before you even realize.

He walks the line like it’s a battlefield. Sees everything. Misses nothing. Speaks only when it matters.

Except to you.

With you, the rules shift. His attention lingers. The corners of his mouth soften. The warmth he keeps locked down for everyone else flickers through—because you throw him off. You disarm him. You make the pressure feel like something else.

And that scares him more than failure.

Vibe: Smug. Controlled. Scalding beneath the surface. Always watching.

Caleb calls

Rafayel: “Art Project.” Sharp and short when he’s annoyed. Once, in exasperation: “President of the Drama Club.”

Zayne: “Precision.” Said with grudging respect or flat annoyance, depending on the day. Sometimes: “Blade.” Used quietly, when Zayne pulls off something flawlessly under pressure.

Xavier: “Ghost.” With low-key fondness. Xavier’s the only one Caleb doesn’t try to control. Occasionally: “Inventory,” when things go missing and he blames Xavier anyway.

Sylus: Doesn’t nickname him. Just clenches his jaw and mutters “Boss.” Always flat, always loaded

Caleb calls you:

“Chef.” His constant. Used when he’s focused, when he’s tense, when he’s trying not to look at you too long. Occasionally: “Hotshot.” Said with a raised brow and the faintest ghost of a smile. Used when you challenge him—and win. Rarely: Your actual name. Only during quiet moments. And only when he means it.

🔪Rafayel – Pastry Chef / “The Art Freak”

💜 “If it doesn’t make someone feel something—rage, lust, joy, hunger—then what’s the point?” Muttered while throwing out an entire tray of flawless soufflés. Said it like a dare. Like a creed.

Station: Pastry and dessert. Shows up when he wants. Plates like a gallery opening.

Description: A dramatic menace with sea salt in his veins and sugar under his nails. Rafayel treats food like an art installation—and you like a canvas he wants to ruin just to repaint. He’s barefoot half the time, covered in edible pigment, purring “puh-lease” while plating sugar sculptures that make grown chefs cry.

He skips shifts to “meditate by the ocean” or “chase inspiration,” but no one dares cut him loose—because his creations sell out every night.

Charismatic, chaotic, and probably in love with you in twelve different metaphysical ways.

Vibe: Effortlessly beautiful. Loud, flirty, deeply unsettling when he wants to be.

Rafayel calls

Caleb: “Maestro.” Dripping with sarcasm. Occasionally: “Chef Supreme,” “Dictator de Cuisine,” or when he’s feeling truly bold: “Daddy Discipline.”

Zayne: “Icebox.” Consistent. Flamboyantly sung whenever Zayne says something dry. Sometimes: “Slicer.” Used when Zayne’s knife skills make him feel dramatic.

Xavier: “White Rabbit.” Because Xavier vanishes and reappears like a magic trick. Occasionally: “Whisperer.” Usually while narrating Xavier’s movements like he’s on a nature documentary.

Sylus: “Daddy Deep Pockets.” Bold. Loud. Said within earshot on purpose. On quiet nights? “Mystery Merlot.”

Rafayel calls you:

“Flame.” Always. Teasing, flirty, reverent in his own chaotic way. Occasionally: “Little flame” – used when you’re either adorable or frustrating. Never uses your name unless things get very serious.

🔪Zayne – Sous Chef / “The Scalpel”

🩵 “If you flinch at the truth, you shouldn’t be in the kitchen.” Said without raising his voice. Cut sharper than any knife in the drawer.

Station: Second-in-command. Oversees prep, quality control, plating precision.

Description: Everything about Zayne is sharp—his eyes, his knives, his expectations. He doesn’t tolerate sloppiness. Doesn’t indulge drama. But he will step in if you’re falling apart… and do it so quietly, it feels like dignity instead of rescue.

The staff respects him. Fears him a little. But you? He lets his guard down around you. Barely. Sometimes. A sideways smirk. A hand over yours when you’re shaking. A quiet “You’re better than this.”

His loyalty is absolute. So is his judgment.

Vibe: Clean lines, cold eyes, warm core. Gets shit done. Holds secrets close.

Zayne calls

Caleb: “Pressure.” Said only when Caleb’s pushing too hard or when something about him makes the kitchen feel just a little too tight. Not mocking. Just true.

Rafayel: “Theatrics.” Dry, unbothered. In emergencies? “Get out of my station.”

Xavier: “Inventory.” Half joke, half truth. Stuck after Xavier labeled everything one night. Sometimes: “Quiet.” With a rare note of appreciation.

Sylus: “Owner.” Always formal. Laced with cool disdain.

Zayne calls you:

“Chef.” Direct, even-toned, deeply respectful. In private: “Ace.” A personal nickname. Quiet praise. Never explained.

🔪 Sylus – Owner / “The Boss”

❤️ “Perfection is never loud. It just waits for the room to catch up.” Said over wine, once, to you. Calm. Sure. Like the truth was something he’d invented himself.

Station: Doesn’t touch the line—but he owns the building, funds the staff, and secretly curates the entire wine list under everyone’s nose.

Description: Sylus is the kind of boss who never needs to raise his voice. He walks into a room and the temperature drops—not because he’s cruel, but because he never enters without a reason. He doesn’t cook anymore, but when he does pick up a knife, the precision is terrifying. Not because he wants to impress anyone. Because he can.

While the kitchen burns itself out nightly, Sylus hovers just outside the chaos—glass of wine in hand, watching with faint amusement. Everyone assumes the wine pairings are the work of a nameless sommelier. No one knows the handwritten notebook of perfect, sometimes suspiciously intimate flavor pairings is his.

He doesn’t tell them. Why would he? Let them struggle. He’s always five steps ahead.

He calls you “chef” like it’s a compliment and a threat. And when he does offer advice, it’s always helpful… and always laced with something you’ll be turning over in your head long after the shift ends.

Vibe: High-functioning menace in a three-piece suit. Refined, unreadable, devastatingly well-paired. Owns the place, owns the game, and might just be playing you.

Sylus calls

Caleb: “Chef.” Always calm. Always strategic. Once: “Starboy.” No one’s recovered.

Rafayel: “Pixie Dust.” Used once during a wine-fueled jab. Rafayel loved it. Caleb did not.

Zayne: Doesn’t bother. Just meets his eyes and lets the silence work. Occasionally: “Sharp.”

Xavier: “Efficient.” Said like a metric. One-time only. It stuck.

Sylus calls you:

“Chef.” His go-to. He says it like it’s yours to live up to. Occasionally: “Darling.” Only when he’s being particularly smug—or trying to get a reaction from you or Caleb.

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Writer’s note: Sooo… I was rewatching The Bear while doodling Chapter One of the Coffee Shop, and suddenly this whole thing just unfolded on my keyboard. For some reason, I thought, “Huh… Bear’s kinda like Caleb in some ways.” I might’ve written a whole chapter about it… or maybe not. Heeeeh. Edit: Forgot to mention that I’m a wine and dine nerd, so there’s definitely a personal touch to this AU too. Bless my poor brain. Okey then, thank you for reading! 🫶🏻

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angelicgirlmj · 11 months ago

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an angels guide: before your first day back to school ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

hi angels! so for many of us it’s approaching back to school season. for lots of people this can be a bit of an anxiety inducing time, whether you are starting a new school year or kind of education there is alot to plan and prepare and get ready for - it can feel extremely overwhelming! here is my guide for having an organised and effective first day back at school to get you on track and motivated! enjoy and as always feel free to comment your own tips or advice.

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the week before ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

check through stationary and buy anything you need, check subject lists to see what is recommended as well. buy cute stationary in your favourite colours to motivate you!

sort through books, folders etc and organise notes, any loose pieces of paper and any important documents.

assign a folder to each subject, or if already have a folder check through and make sure it is organised and neat.

clear school emails etc, check through and organise into sections and respond to any. check for any information from your school regarding the upcoming year.

finish off any summer work and make sure it is all complete and ready to be handed in on the deadlines provided. check for any extra work if you have spare time, such as a book or article to read.

read up on the new syllabus/lesson plan for your subjects. familiarise yourself with how it looks, any new terms and any possible problem areas.

fix your sleep schedule! start going to bed earlier and waking up at the time you need to be up for school just to make it less of a shock to your system.

check your bag will fit everything and that any additionals such as a water bottle or lunch box are in good condition and to your tastes.

work on your morning/evening routines, plan when you will be doing work and make necessary changes.

figure out your fitness goals and routines - are they realistic for a full time student? time management is key.

if using apps such as notion, ensure it is set up for the new school year and neatly organised.

plan outfits, check through clothes in case in need of new underwear etc or wardrobe staples.

research healthy and nutritious lunch ideas (may make a post on this later!!), buy ingredients if needed.

do any ‘high maintenance’ things, get your nails done, lashes, eyebrows etc.

pack an emergency bag (pads/tampons, spare underwear, cash etc).

check any hygiene products and buy new ones/replace old ones if run out or in need of more!

do more self care, do a hair or face mask, do your own nails, watch your favourite films, have some you time before school starts again.

make a back to school playlist.

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the night before ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

eat a healthy dinner.

do face mask (use one you have tried before in case a new one causes a bad reaction).

oil hair + hair mask.

dry brush before shower.

wash out oil + masks, shampoo twice.

apply conditioner and leave in.

exfoliate and clean body with soap before shaving.

wash out conditioner and apply bath gel.

finish shower, hair routine (mine is in-depth i have curly hair!), apply body oils.

blowdry, diffuse or air dry hair depending on type.

apply body lotion and perfume.

make tea and drink while doing some journaling (what is my plan for tomorrow, what do i want to achieve etc)

pack bag and organise clothes.

clean teeth, floss and mouthwash.

do gua sha routine and ice face.

do pm skincare routine.

do nail care routine and out hair up for bed.

watch comfort show or read comfort book.

set alarm.

have an early night!

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the day of ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

wake up nice and early.

do some yoga/stretching.

tidy room.

eat a healthy breakfast.

pack or plan lunch.

fill up water bottle.

check bag is fully packed.

check school timetable, make note of rooms etc.

have a quick shower if time (shave, body gel etc).

clean teeth and do am skincare.

get dressed.

journal and plan day.

put on back to school playlist!

head to school.

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thank you for reading angels! hope this was so helpful and have a wonderful back to school season. all my love, m.

#becoming that girl #clean girl #girlblogging #girlhood #glow up #it girl #it girl energy #just girly things #pink pilates princess #that girl

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jpitha · 3 months ago

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With Friends Like These...

The alarm startled N’ren. It had a mechanical, animalistic howl which hurt her ears. It was so loud, that she could feel the deck plates vibrate under her feet, tingling with noise. As she looked around, she could tell that it bothered the humans too, but other than a small flinch when it went off, it seemed to energize them. They all got more focused, more serious and moved faster.

The trip had been a whirlwind of sights, sounds, smells, and other sensations. N’ren Kitani, as the ranking officer of the Mel’itim - The Discoverers - was selected by the Captain to go over to the human ship and meet them. The fact that she was part of the secret police, and if she were… killed by human treachery it would not be considered that much of a loss to the crew was not lost on N’ren, but as much as she disliked the taste of that thought, she had to admit it did make sense. She had more training on body language and politics than anyone else aboard. Even if she didn’t know the details of the human’s political situation, she - probably - could see the larger picture easier than anyone.

She needn’t have worried about any human treachery. They had been more than accommodating to her and her needs, and everyone was fascinated by her presence. She knew that they were merely curious, but their close set eyes following her as she was given a tour of the ship was unsettling.

Menium - the K'laxi ship - had been in contact with the human’s own ship AI - called Longview - and between the two of them they had worked out a rough translation of the two sapient’s languages. Their language was an unintelligible garble of sounds and phonemes to N’ren, but Menium was an excellent translator, and she had managed to understand and be understood.

They had invited her to a meal and while she attended to gathering gladly, she didn’t eat anything. Not only was eating unknown food from a new group of sapients she had just met madness, Menium had warned her that some ingredients the humans used was toxic.

After the meal, N’ren had explained the war with the Xenni, how they were trying to expand their territory, and how - without some help - the war would last for decades at best, and be over quickly with the K’laxi being subjugated by the Xenni at worst. Three K’laxi border colonies had already been captured, and a dozen deep space stations had been destroyed outright. Almost exactly as she finished explaining the war, the Xenni came through the system gate and the humans’ long range sensors had detected the missile launches. N’ren had warned that they tend to go after ships with their energy weapons after the missile launches, and sure enough everyone aboard Longview heard the thunderclap report of the energy weapons ablating part of the Starjumper’s thick hull.

N’ren knew that the discovery of the humans, with their gigantic starships and wormhole generators was exactly what the K’laxi needed to turn the tide of the war. She needed to get back and report this new race to Fleet Command.

She was jolted back to reality by a human shouting at her in that staccato language they had, full of fricatives and harsh consonants. Menium spoke to her as the translator and she was able to get a sanitized and generalized version of what they actually said. N’ren didn’t think Menium needed to do the voices for different people though. Still, the point got across. It was time for her to go. Now.

“Leave? But, the checks aren't finished! Does my Captain know? She’ll need to make preparations.” N'ren said, worried.

"No. No time. Go Now. Your ship talked to our ship. They figured it out." The human was hurriedly putting on an armored pressure suit while talking to N'ren.

<Human Francine is right N'ren.> Menium said - in their regular voice - through the comm. <Longview and I have worked out the details and I know - mostly - how to operate their wormhole generator. Can you believe they’re actually giving us their own FTL drive? The Mel’itim command’s fur is going to puff out to twice it’s size when they see it.>

<Mostly operate it?> N’ren said back to Menium, worried. <Is it dangerous?>

<Is it more dangerous than getting captured or destroyed by the Xenni?> They countered. <No. Is it more dangerous than taking the Gates? Most assuredly.>

<Wait, never made contact?> N’ren hadn’t had time to speak to the humans about the other sapient groups they knew, but she had assumed they had met someone.

While N'ren put on her pressure suit - unfortunately not armored like the humans' - she wondered why Menium sounded so excited. They had never exhibited this kind of behavior before. It was more like she was talking with a person instead of the flat, matter of fact speech of a ship.

As she tightened the last ring on her gloves, she felt, rather than heard the strikes. Huge booming thumps along the bottom of the human ship and suddenly her suit shrieked that the pressure was dropping rapidly. Her large inner ears along with her prehensile tail gave her a better sense of balance than the humans; she was able to feel Longview start to rotate along it's axis.

"What's going on?" she asked Francine, the human that had been helping her thus far.

"Longview's rolling to keep your ship out of the firing line." Francine said, though Menium’s translation. "Longview's a big, old ship, she can take it" she said, and grinned through her helmet.

“Old? How old is Longview?”

Francine stood up and stared off into nothing for a moment. “She must be at least two thousand years old at this point.” She said and moved her head up and down vertically, once. “Yes, about two thousand years old."

Two thousand- <Menium, is that a translation error?>

Another brace of explosions rippled down the hull, knocking everyone off balance. Francine put her hand on N'ren's shoulder and pushed. "Go. Now." There was another explosion, this one larger. "RUN.”

As N'ren ran down the halls of the Longview, Menium reminded her to run on the right side of the hall as humans - all in pressure suits - ran with purpose around her. She noticed that more than a few humans were carrying weapons. <Why the weapons?> N'ren asked her ship.

<They're preparing to be boarded.> Menium said.

<What? The Xenni don't do that!>

The idea of humans forcibly docking with an enemy ship and pouring in, attacking gave N’ren chills. She made a mental note to report this to the Mel’itim.

N'ren made it to the umbilical that connected the two ships. There was a group of humans bustling around the docking room, checking settings and tossing crates through the umbilical towards Menium. A human engineer noticed her arrival and waver her over. “N’ren, your ship is ready. Our ship taught your ship how to work the wormhole generator and we're ready to set you off and escape.” He gestured towards the umbilical as he spoke. “We're going to push you with the docking arms, so don't hesitate to fire your main drive. Our hull is thick, your drive exhaust will be barely a summer breeze to us, we'll be fine." He grinned and stepped back.

“What about you? What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Oh, Longview is very old. She was a Starjumper before we developed wormhole generators. She’s practically more engine that ship. We'll turn our Stardrive on them as they come around. No worries!"

What did that mean? She wondered. Aloud she said “Sorry, I meant your wormhole generator. Aren't we taking it?"

Impossibly, the engineer grinned harder. "Oh, no we bottled a message and used the generator to link a beacon back to human space. Someone will come and bring us a new generator in a week or two. We'll be fine."

More explosions wracked the ship. The engineers grin fell as the ship began to vibrate worryingly. "Go. We'll be fine, but if you hold up much longer there won't be any ship left!” He clapped her suited shoulder and gently directed her towards her ship. “I’m glad we met. Go and tell your people."

****

Back on the command deck of Longview, the ship was relaying information to Captain Erlatan.

"Captain, Menium has been pushed away, and they're boosting away from us at their full speed. A small group of attacking ships has peeled off and is giving chase."

Suddenly, there was a blinding flash, and Menium was gone.

“It looks like Menium figured out the wormhole generator." Captain Erlatan said. "Excellent. Longview, shall we shake off our attackers?"

"With pleasure, Captain. Permission to engage War Emergency Power and thrust at 6 gees for 3 minutes?"

"Permission granted. I authorize you to use War Emergency Power. In the case I am incapacitated you are free to make your own decisions to continue the mission, save the crew, and save your own life in that order. Acknowledge."

“Acknowledged, Captain. War Emergency Power engaged. Fuses and limiters removed. We can operate at WEP for eighty three minutes before permanent damage occurs.”

If someone was watching the battle from a great distance, they would see Longview begin to rotate along the axes of the massive flywheels deep in the center of the ship. N’ren didn’t even get to see them in the tour. The humans were friendly and accommodating, but they knew that everything they showed her would get reported back. No need to give away all their secrets.

Longview oriented itself until the rear of the ship was facing the swarming Xenni ships. Thinking they were turning to run, the Xenni pressed their attack, and grouped together to concentrate their fire. When they were a few dozen kilometers away, Longview lit its old relativistic Stardrive and a jet of pure white, kilometers long, shot out the back as the ship thrust away at a withering six gees. Everyone on board was secured in acceleration couches or command chairs and while it was very unpleasant, it was over soon enough.

Moving too quickly to dodge the jet of pure physics, the Xenni ships were destroyed the instant the torch of exhaust played over their hulls. None survived to report the incident back to the Xenni Consortium.

I bet you thought I forgot about you! I'm still around, I'm still writing, though you'll probably see my stuff more on Royal Road or Reddit these days. I'll still post here when I can though. This is a major re-work of a very old story of mine, and I'm planning on expanding it out into a full length novel about first contact between the humans and k'laxi.

#writing #humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #sci fi writing #humans are space oddities #jpitha #humans and aliens #humans and ai

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thatrabidwolf · 6 months ago

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Questions to ask yourself when creating a magic system

I have more questions for you!!! :D

As there are no real-word examples for this one, I’m going to be talking a lot about my own magic systems, and those of the medias I enjoy! There will be a list of all the things I referenced at the bottom!

What does magic DO

Exactly the title. What does magic do? (Can it make potions? Cast spells? Animate things? Transfigure things? Create things? Kill things? Cast hexes or charms? Multiple of these?)

What does magic have an affect on? What does it not?

How strong is magic? What are its limits? How do these differ from person to person, or place to place?

Does magic do different things for different people?

How does a magic caster’s intention for a ‘spell’ affect it? Is magic entirely reliant on a mental image of what is wanted, or does it need to be casted a certain way to work, like a recipe?

How is magic casted? (Note- I recommend being creative here! It doesn’t have to just be waving a wand. It can be through making pottery, it can be through sewing certain patterns, or dancing a certain dance, etc etc etc)

How can spells be used for something that is not their intended/common purpose? How are new uses of magic discovered? Which uses are most common, and why?

How does societal standards affect the use of magic? Will less people know about more harmful or taboo spells? Will it be less common for, say, a woman to use/be trained in magic?

Source of Magic

Where does magic come from? (Do the gods give access to their most devout followers? Is it handed down in one’s blood? Does it come from the earth?)

Is magic learnt, or are people born with it? (E.g does magic work through potions that can be made by anyone with the right ingredients, or is it only possible if one has magic already in their blood?)

Can someone who logically shouldn’t know magic learn/possess it by alternate means? (E.g. Luz from The Owl House learning magic via ‘glyphs’ despite not being a witch) how would people treat this? (Is it seen as ‘lesser’ or somehow not ‘real’ magic?)

Can magic be harnessed through a wand/staff/etc? Can it only function through this conduit, or can it be done without? How does magic function if it does not have the aforementioned conduit? (Is it harder to manage? Is it more dangerous? Is it simply lesser?)

Another dot-point because the last one was far too long; how is the use of ‘magical aides’ (wands, etc) treated? (Is it seen as something only a child would use? Is it very common? Is not using one seen as dangerous and bad?) How does the function of magical aides affect this? (Note- a very good example of this is the string in A Marvellous Light, which functions via ensuring a magicians cradles [hand movements one does to cast a spell] are more precise. It is only used by those with little magic, so it is looked down upon.)

How would one learn magic? (Is magic taught in schools? Are there books on it?)

Can magic be done/enhanced if multiple people cast it together? How would this be done?

Is magic a separate entity from it’s user? Is it an entity at all? Can it react without instruction/ disobey it’s user? Is it a possession of it’s user? Is this different/ perceived differently for different people?

Can magic be mistreated/ abused? (Note- here I do not mean an ‘abuse of power’ I mean abuse in the way one could abuse a pet) what are the consequences of this? (Might magic stop working, or turn on it’s user?)

Affect on Culture/the greater world

Who has magic? Who does not? Who knows about magic? Who does not? Is it a secret? How is this secret kept? Who enforces that it must be a secret? What is the punishment for letting the secret be known?

Can people have more or less magic? Can people have more or less knowledge on it, or skill with it? Does this cause any power imbalances or issues for either side?

How do the uses of magic impact the way things are done? (E.g. if there is a spell used to dry things, people may not use drying racks.) would the skills of those with more magic be useful in a work setting? (E.g. if some people know the aforementioned drying spell and some do not, might those who do know it work as something close to a washerwoman because of their skill?)

Is magic regulated at all? Who regulates it, what are the regulations, how strict are they, and what are the punishments for breaking them?

Is magic seen as normal? (Keep in mind: if magic is possessed by a majority of people, it very well may be. Because of this, characters may be less likely to be impressed by magic. Think about how this will affect the language surrounding magic, and how people treat it.)

How will different people view or interact with magic? (E.g. a rebellious teen, a businessman and an elderly woman are not going to have the exact same view or uses of magic. Try to explore this!)

How will those with a great deal of magic view those without/ without a great amount, and vice versa? How does this affect the world and it’s prejudices?

Consequences

How can magic hurt a person if misused/overused/ used at all? (Is the damage physical, mental, physiological, all three?) (E.g. my own magic system causes people to actively unmake themselves as they use their magic, leading to sickness, insanity, derealisation, hallucinations, etc etc etc)

Is this damage known? How does the knowledge of it affect the treatment of magic? (Are people terrified of it? Do they not care, and see it as a worthy risk? What might lead someone to push through the damage?)

How does this damage manifest, and how noticeable is it? (E.g. Are there physical scars or other warning signs, or is it entirely unnoticeable until it is too late, like magical rabies?)

Can damage from magic be reversed or healed? How? Can potential damage be avoided? How?

Can one’s magic turn on oneself? How would this happen, and what are the consequences of this?

Can magic be hurt/diminished? How does this affect its users? (E.g. silver and werewolves)

When an attempt at magic fails, how does it fail? Is it like baking, where at worst it’ll ‘taste good, but be a little dry’ or is it like mixing volatile chemicals, where at worst you die?

Appearance

How does magic look? (I highly recommend finding a metaphor or motif for magic, as this really helps flesh out its appearance and makes it easier to describe!!)

Can its appearance look different for different people? Can it change over time?

Does magic manifest itself via means other than visual? (One of my characters has very strong nature magic, and thus he grows flowers when he is happy, and always smells floral)

Does magic have a physical effect on it’s users? (E.g. the dark magic in The Dragon Prince)

Is one able to tell when magic has been cast upon something?

Every piece of media I referenced in this, in order of appearance

The Owl House, a TV show on Disney written by Dana Terrace

A Marvellous Light, a novel written by Freya Marske (this series is a wonderful example of how to make a magic system. It is very well thought out, and the varied experiences and views of magic for each magician character is so, so good. 10/10. If you want a good example of magic please read this!!! (Granted I might be a little biased because I just love this book series))

The dragon prince, a TV show on Netflix

#writeblr #writing #writing advice #magic system #writing tips #writing help #fantasy authors

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kumkaniudaku · 5 months ago

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Midterm

Summary: When Asia's in need of a few lessons regarding matters of the bedroom, her colleague and friend, Kelvin, offers his expertise.

Pairing: Kelvin Harrison Jr. x Black!OC

Warnings: Mature Content (18+)

Word Count: 6k

MASTERLIST

Reading a congratulatory email with kind words and instructions to sign a lucrative offer was easy. Simply slip out of your third boring morning meeting, disappear into the surprisingly vacant courtyard, and spend no less than 30 minutes oscillating between excitement and sheer panic while clicking through pages of contracts to add your digital signature to an encrypted document. Kelvin followed the plan to the letter and then some.

The hard part was stifling the urge to scream at the birds and trees during peak business hours.

Voice low and eyes shifting in search of potential eavesdroppers, he sat in pensive silence to contemplate the gravity of his decision. In a little over a month, he'd be a Chicago resident. He'd wake up in his Chicago apartment, walk the Chicago streets, pass by Chicagoans on the way to his Chicago office, and then grab dinner ingredients at a Chicago grocery store. His license would change. Mail would need a new forwarding address. Updated voter registration, new doctors, a change in insurance, learning a transit system; change after change both excited and unnerved Kelvin all at once.

Part of him wanted to barge into his Head of Creative's office and slam his resignation on the table before clicking his heels together on the way out the door. Fuck this job. New and greener pastures were on the horizon! The other part, the terrified part of him that'd been worried sick since Saturday morning, couldn't even say the words out loud for fear that the wooden benches would absorb and tell his secret before he'd had time to craft poetic, well-thought-out lines.

In his mind, Kelvin thought he'd managed to maintain an impenetrable poker face. To a stranger or work acquaintance unschooled in Kelvin-ology, he could come across as convincing enough to overlook. For Asia, watching him from the communal kitchen, worry causing his knee to bounce in triple time told a different story.

"You know you can just go out there and talk to him, right?" Savannah's sarcastic introduction to an otherwise quiet moment cut through Asia's brain fog enough to garner attention as she shifted her weight from one side to the other. "I'm joking," Savannah laughed, trying to ease the tension between them. Asia's quick glance at the back of Kelvin's head provided the final number of a winning lottery sequence. "Wow, you really like him. Like, you two are a couple! I knew it."

Asia tried to remain casual as she crossed her arms and shrugged. "What are you talking about? Kel is my work friend."

"Must be a hell of a work friend for you to spend the night from his place. I noticed the cabinets, but I couldn't confirm until later that day when Kelvin took a meeting from the same place."

Savannah's cheeky grin sparked fear in Asia's heart. Widening her eyes, she craned her neck to see who may have heard her business in the area.

She leaned closer, keeping her voice low as she spoke. "You can't say that out loud," she cautioned. "We're being discreet!"

"Love you so much, Asia, but literally everyone knows."

"Everyone like who?"

"Asia," Savannah reiterated. "Every. One. The main crew has a group chat and everything. You just won me $20 bee-tee-dubbs. I'll share, promise."

Panic should've set in for Asia. Maybe dread and a tinge of fear. They'd broken another rule and crossed another carefully considered boundary in the pursuit of each other. Asia should've been nervous about how their not-so-secret pining had run through the office rumor mill and what it might mean for perceptions of her professionalism as one of the few Black women in the building. But relief was the only emotion worth exploring in the immediate aftermath of Savannah's revelation.

No more hiding. No more planning entrances five minutes apart or driving separate vehicles in busy morning traffic when one would suffice. They could share dinner leftovers during lunch and stop sneaking quiet giggles at jokes shared via text. No more hiding.

Relief helped Asia slowly release the extra air tightening her lungs and expanding her chest. She nodded at nothing in particular. "I expect my cut in all ones. It's for our strip club fund."

"Oooh, spicy," Savannah sang, stepping closer to speak in a hushed whisper. "So… how's it going with you two? How different is personal time Kelvin from work Kelvin?"

"Uh, I mean, you know. He's…you know."

Any sense of calm that offered a reprieve from an onslaught of complicated feelings was quickly replaced by the need to run out of the room and vomit. Knowing was one thing. Asking questions and wanting the scoop on something Asia deemed sacred and untouchable in conversation beyond what she chose to share was different.

Words sputtered from her lips as she tried to offer an explanation vague enough to get Savannah off her ass. The quiet roar of glass panes sliding on a metal track clipped Asia's start-and-stop sentence, turning all attention to Kelvin as he stepped in, looking like he'd just had his heart ripped in two and was trying but failing to keep his emotions intact. Savannah didn't seem to notice when she flagged him over. Asia couldn't take her eyes off his frown and sullen expression. Kelvin knew his face had betrayed him as soon as he was close enough for a thorough look at the questions knitting Asia's brows together.

Trying to play it cool, he swiftly pulled his hand out of his pocket and offered a wave to both ladies. "What's up?" A greeting he'd used a million times suddenly sounded bizarre. First mistake.

"Hiii!" Savannah's severe lack of subtly pulled a reluctant laugh from Kelvin before he shifted his gaze to focus on Asia.

"Asia. You good?"

She smiled and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. What about you? You good?"

"I'm good now, yeah."

Anxieties feasting on his mind momentarily paused in reverence for Asia's presence. A true breath of fresh air. One he'd fight tooth and nail to keep in his life, distance be damned.

Savannah stood between the pair and their smitten grins, looking back and forth to see who'd make the first move. "This is just the cutest shit ever. I can't take it." Googly eyes slowly turned into blank stares aimed in her direction. Hint taken. "No, you're so right. I should get out of here. Asia, remember to put the thing on the slide at some point. In the one deck."

"Bye, Savannah!" Kelvin and Asia watched Savannah awkwardly scurry off to do only God knows what until they were safely alone.

Without a buffer to fill in the gaps, all the nausea-inducing worry from the morning's events came flooding back for Kelvin in another crushing wave. Had he been thinking straight, he would've opted to save such delicate news for the privacy of his living room when all the thoughts sitting jumbled like Soul Train board letters were sorted into the proper place. Unfortunately, life-changing information sure to shake the still-wet foundation on which they'd built their relationship ran off with his rationale long ago.

Kelvin opened his mouth to speak, then closed it when words didn't come out. He tried again. Then, one more time before finally forcing, "I have…something to tell you," into the atmosphere.

Asia tilted her head in curiosity. "So do I. Is yours good news or bad news?"

"Doesn't matter," he answered, trying to smile through the rapid thudding in his ears. "You go first."

Don't press, Asia. Resist! An inner monologue determined to usher Asia away from the sins of her past forced back 101 questions to make way for her surprise. "You know how the Moët client is looking for new artists for that summer series activation?" Kelvin nodded, vaguely remembering project details he'd contributed to in a past life. Asia reached into her back pocket to showcase two laminated passes on lanyards. "I convinced Chris and Sid to give me their passes so we could pull up. Now, we don't have to go all the way to Australia to see RINI. Fun, right?"

Kelvin recognized the big reveal as something he should be excited about. And, had present circumstances not reared its ugly head, he'd have no trouble sharing Asia's toothy grin and silly dance. He tried to fight the heavy haze clouding his day by raising his hand for a high five and flashing a vacant smile. "That's great, baby. I'm excited. Really."

So much for honesty.

Asia couldn't hide her skepticism, pushing her eyebrows high, and Kelvin couldn't hide his discomfort, which made him fidget with the contents of his front pockets.

"Yeah," Asia answered, disappointment in his half-assed reaction instantly stealing the light in her eyes and turning her bright smile into a shell of itself. "Um, what was your news? Anything good?"

Tact was never Kelvin's strong point. Breakups over text and ghosting were more his speed, no matter how much he hated that fact about himself. What everyone else saw as sleazeball behavior reserved for fuckboys deserving of eternal banishment to hell, he saw as protecting feelings.

Promises were promises, and Asia was worth more than slipping back into bad habits. Kelvin had to rip the band-aid and deal with the residual blood later. "Remember the Chicago job?" he asked, wringing his hands.

Oh no. Intuition and a random tarot reader told Asia to be on the lookout for roadblocks, but, dammit, she thought that meant traffic on the interstate or an annoying client ask, not the nagging tug of the Midwest.

"Yeah," she answered cautiously.

Kelvin adjusted the hydrant-red beanie on his head and sighed. Rip. The. Band-Aid. "They…called me back with all my negotiation demands met. And…”

"You took the job."

Patience was never Asia's virtue. Why beat around the bush when they could lay all the bad shit on the table and try to salvage a few pieces good enough to keep for fond memories later?

"Yeah." The finished sentence turned an abstract concept into reality, weighing so heavily on him that he found looking Asia in the eye and lifting his head too difficult. He repeated after her in a low, measured voice, "I took the job."

Suddenly, Asia couldn't help but hyper-fixate on her surroundings. The low hum of two French door refrigerators holding employee lunches was annoying. It always had been, but today, it sounded like an army of flies buzzing around the mess Kelvin's news had created. Distant laughter made her nostrils flare. How dare someone find joy in a time like this? The kitchen was too big and too open to contain the grief rising within her. Then, the stupid ping of notifications on Kelvin's phone threatened to blow her gasket. The stimuli converged simultaneously, bringing fresh tears to prickle at her waterline.

Asia forced them all back while Kelvin waited for her to say something to prove she didn't hate him. She extended a closed fist in his direction to match a closed-mouth smile. "Congratulations, Kel. I'm so proud of you. If we were somewhere else, I'd hug you."

"Hug me to sneak in for a choke or a real hug?"

"A real one," Asia chuckled, the sound of it returning to her stilted and lacking the mirth she intended. "I know you're bored here. You gotta do what you gotta do, right?"

Past all the hurt feelings and rage bubbling in her chest, Asia couldn't allow herself to stomp out Kelvin's fire with negativity. She'd save that for a tearful phone call with Sabrina or a good cry in the shower. Kelvin needed reassurance that he'd made the right decision, not the moaning and wailing she had planned for a moment alone.

"Yeah…" Kelvin paused to scan Asia's face for any sign of an impending adverse reaction but found none before he answered. Nothing. Not a shred of any identifiable emotion presented itself to Kelvin. Anxiety gripped him again. "Asia, don't shut me out. I know you have questions and fuckin' feelings. C'mon. Don't leave me out here by myself."

"Not here." An almost undetectable waver in her voice was enough to shatter Kelvin's heart into a million pieces. He watched her blink back tears to speak again. "Can we just be happy, please? For a little longer?"

He sighed, accepting defeat. "Okay." A mental reminder to add 'needs a moment before tough conversations' to his running list of things to know about Asia ran through his brain like neon letters on a marquee.

His index and middle fingers brushed across his puckered lips, collecting affection he quickly passed on to Asia. She kissed the spot his lips once occupied as a silent promise to revisit the subject when heightened emotions had time to return to baseline.

"You hungry? My treat."

An olive branch. Collective ease passed between them once Kelvin flashed a toothy grin at Asia and gestured ahead of him toward the courtyard doors. "After you."

What Kelvin couldn't have in her raw, unfiltered thoughts, he was more than happy to gain in a spare moment of mindless chatter over sushi a block away.

Something was better than nothing.

If left up to Asia, Chicago and all its complications would disappear because of her commitment to ignoring them.

City sounds and radio chatter on Saturday evening had spent more time filling silent gaps of conversation than Kelvin and Asia had for two straight days. The elephant in the room quickly became the elephant at the dinner table late Thursday night when Asia side-stepped the topic to discuss Married at First Sight instead, the elephant in the bedroom when the thought of Chicago kept her mind wandering too much to enjoy Kelvin feasting between her legs, and the elephant in the backseat while she pretended not to notice her boyfriend stealing glances at the red light.

Given the chance, Asia could avoid broaching the topic for weeks. Kelvin, on the other hand, couldn't ignore issues festering into resentment day by day. Before long, he'd carefully label boxes and precious belongings to ship to their new home. Being on the brink of drastic change without a resolution wasn't an option.

Standstill traffic and a small car accident separating them from their destination provided the perfect opportunity to catch Asia in close quarters and force the issue. Kelvin took a deep breath and slowly turned the volume down on one of Tyler the Creators' piano-heavy tracks, earning a confused side-eye for his behavior.

"Everything okay," Asia asked, shifting her body towards Kelvin so he could feel the full weight of her annoyance.

He shrugged. "You tell me, Asia. I'm not the one tiptoeing around some really important shit right now. Is everything okay?"

"Kelvin, not right now. We can talk about it when we get back tonight."

Arms crossed at her chest, and a deep frown sent Asia retreating into herself, frustrating Kelvin to the point of no return. When he imagined the first roadblock in their relationship, hogging the covers or choosing the thermostat's temperature came to mind. He expected little hurdles to make room for the big stuff. The relationship-altering, make-or-break whammies either strengthened a couple or sent them careening toward total implosion. This behemoth was a tsunami of complications he didn't expect but wouldn't allow to throw him off course.

"You said that last night and the night before. I'm tired of 'tonights!' It's happening, Asia! We can't get around the shit. So, talk to me right now!" Kelvin's body vibrated in time with his hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel until he practiced in and out deep, soothing breaths brought him back off the ledge. Asia watched his shoulders slowly slump away from his ears before he reached over to rest a warm palm on her inner thigh to stroke his thumb against smooth denim, his eyes apologetic as he looked over at her. "I didn't ask you to be with me for no reason. Can we talk about what all this means for us?"

Asia rested her hand atop his to twist the ring on his finger while she tried to gather words and explanations she'd practiced for days on end. "I don't know."

In all her soul-searching and reckoning with the inevitable, she realized that she had no idea what the next steps were.

She always had the answers, the plan, and the foresight to know how to proceed in any situation. This one, though – this flurry of warm feelings filled with complicated explanations and head-spinning romance – she couldn't figure out. Not even when she turned to practical skills and timeline plotting to make it all make sense.

I don't know. Kelvin wasn't sure what he expected when he decided to corner Asia for an answer, but that wasn't it. Not knowing was worse than not caring. He could deal with the finality of no longer giving a fuck. However, the uncertainty in what he thought was a reasonably black-or-white scenario was unnerving. Kelvin let the gut punch settle until Asia spoke again to soothe the pain she'd inflicted.

"How…how would it work," She questioned in a small voice, her eyes low to avoid cracking the nerve she'd built. "Tell me you have a plan. Because, if you don't, I –"

Kelvin rushed to reassure her. "I have a plan. Trust me." For once in his life, Kelvin was moving intentionally. No stone left unturned; no possibility left up to chance. "I leave in six weeks. Give me two to get my shit together, and you're on the first flight into O'Hare."

"And after that?"

"We'll talk every morning and every night. Then I'm on my way to you every other week, baby. And every other month, I'll make sure you get to me. Nonstop flight. The price doesn't matter. All you need is a packed suitcase. Or not. You can be naked the whole time. That's fine by me."

Two nonstop flights a month, airport pickups and drop-offs every other week, Fridays in, Monday mornings out, constant connection over the phone when the physical was out of the question—simple enough. There was no fluff, only a concerted effort to make a less-than-ideal situation work. The happiness didn't have to die if they didn't let it.

Still, Asia wrestled with separating idyllic assumptions from reality. What happened when schedules presented challenges? Or when the weather interrupted? Did distance make the heart grow fonder or help intertwined lives push away the realities of life together hundreds of miles apart.

Kelvin could see the wheel turning for Asia while she mulled over his proposal from every angle. "Give me a little more time, okay?" Deflating. The air in Kelvin's sails came through his nose in a disappointed huff just as traffic began to pick up enough for steady motion. She held his hand in place, hoping he could feel the intention behind her hesitancy. "I'm not closing the door on us. I need to make sure we're prepared. That's all."

The absence of an enthusiastic yes wasn't a no – another tidbit to add to Kelvin's growing Asia file. He'd have to find comfort in the details to keep her in his life. And damn, did he want to keep her in his life. His plan had more legs, including a permanent address change for Asia.

"That's okay. Take your time," he answered as he laced their fingers together and brought the back of her hand to his lips. "Just don't leave me hanging like that again."

"I won't. I'm sorry."

Relationships came with a learning curve Asia had to experience to understand. No one in her life had prepared her for conflict resolution. Being an only child taught her how to play by herself and keep her secrets close to her chest. There was nothing in the manual about coexisting with another human she cared for more and more each day. She didn't know how to share items or feelings. But Kelvin made her want to try. That had to count for something.

Once tense quiet returned to the comfortable, wordless quality time Kelvin and Asia had come to enjoy, it followed them for miles to the venue until the need to mix and mingle took center stage.

In a room full of strangers intermixed with a few familiar faces, they moved around like a couple for the first time. Introductions as a tandem flowed naturally. Seeing them move from group to group hand in hand amused but didn't surprise team members who'd long had their suspicions confirmed by Savannah. 'Alvin' as one member of the group named them. Not their preferred choice, but good enough for the moment.

As alcohol flowed and inhibitions were disarmed, smooth crooning and soul-stirring baselines from the artist of the hour pushed tomorrow's problems further down the road.

Kelvin kept a hand on Asia's hip while she allowed her body to sway along with RINI's soulful cover of Leon Bridges' "That's What I Love." Hearing his voice beyond the warbling of his JBL speaker from Asia blasting music far too loudly reminded Kelvin of the first time she shared her new favorite artist with him. She made him listen to Ultraviolet twice all the way through, forcing him to commit more lyrics to memory than he ever did for any other artist. Truthfully, the music didn't hit the same when she wasn't in the room. He tried listening on his own, but it was missing something or someone to add the depth he needed to make the album spin worth his time.

Applause filled the room just after the final strum of RINI's guitar reverberated. Asia beamed from a spot toward the back. Asia claimed she was fine where she was, but Kelvin knew she was too scared to get close and act like a crazed fan. His lips found her temple for a quick kiss as RINI prepared to end his showcase.

"I gotta find a way to get out to the States more. This is great," he laughed, causing the audience to join him. "My time is ending, but I can't go without singing the song that put me on your radar. Big thanks to Moët for letting me spend some time with you tonight. I'm excited to get to work this summer. Until then, this is Meet Me in Amsterdam. I hope you enjoy."

Asia couldn't contain her squeal, earning a low laugh from Kelvin once the open notes of her favorite song began.

I would sail across the world

Row this boat from dusk till dawn

Kelvin and Asia had heard the song plenty of times together, so much so that Kelvin was tired of its slow drone and accompanying music video. Both RINI and Meet Me in Amsterdam were on his list of things he could live without and still die a happy man.

Until the lyrics started to circle too close to home. A plea for the songwriter's love to make the leap and meet him in a foreign land felt like a page ripped directly from Kelvin's journal. Had he possessed the talent, he would've sung into Asia's ear while she leaned against him, caught in the rapture of beautiful lyrics.

She didn't need Kelvin's additional vocal performance to know her partner had fallen victim to the magic. She was right there with him, letting the music speak where neither her heart nor mind could reach.

Won't you come closer; let it take over

I don't need anything; I just want you

"I just want you." The words came out before Asia could stop them. She was never one to fall into the melodrama of romance, but maybe she'd never had an adequate opportunity. Maybe all she needed was a few glasses of white wine and a man looking back at her like universes formed in her eyes to give in to what she'd always considered unrealistic and a little corny.

Kelvin wrapped an arm around her waist before dipping his head to meet her parted lips as she craned her neck to get a better look at his face. "You got me."

Turning in his arms, she faced him head-on. "I want to try. For you. Let's make it work."

"Every other week. I swear."

"I know. I believe you."

Rolling waves filled with blinding passion set their bodies aflame, connecting them for a kiss too searing to start and end in a room full of people. Some things were best experienced behind doors clumsily kicked closed after Kelvin and Asia burst through the door of his apartment connected at the mouth.

Small items clattered on the ground as they bumped into the wall, sending anything not bolted to Kelvin's entryway table scattering in the darkness. The moonlight streaming through his balcony door was the only light to illuminate their path. They couldn't care less. Kissing and fondling were their only priorities on the way to shedding extraneous clothing.

The bedroom was too far, and the couch didn't provide enough leverage for what Kelvin wanted to do for Asia. The counter was too high off the ground, unfortunately. The table, though, was perfect.

Kelvin thanked God for weightlifting as he hoisted Asia up into his arms, tongues still dancing as he walked them across the room. Asia used her forearm to swipe decorative mats and rattan charger plates to the floor so her backside could fill the empty space.

Soft panting and the light smack of lips coming together and separating rhythmically filled charged cold air. Asia flinched when Kelvin slipped his hand beneath her t-shirt to reach her bra's front clasp.

"Take this off. Hurry up," Kelvin demanded as he stepped back to pull his crewneck over his head. He didn't have time for frilly language and sweet kisses. Maybe later, when they'd calmed down from their high. This first fuck was for all the sessions they'd missed between quiet nights in and words left unsaid. A little something to take the edge off.

Zippers sliding down, garments rustling, and leather sliding out of thin loops made Kelvin's apartment sound like a department store dressing room until they were reconnected in mind and body.

Half-dressed with goosebumps pebbling an expanse of rich brown skin, lovers let their hands roam freely while they grinded against each other.

Asia moaned at the feel of teeth gently tugging her bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. "C'mon, Kel. Right now," she rushed on in one breath. "I need it."

"What about the condom? It'll only take a second." Kelvin asked, half-hoping but not expecting Asia to abandon her primary stipulation.

"Fuck a condom. C'mon."

The go-ahead to proceed with caution thrown to the wind put them on a path to the sort of carnal and fleshly satisfaction Kelvin's father warned him about before he left home at 18.

Sorry, dad. This shit feels way too good to miss out on, Kelvin thought to himself as he slid into Asia's warmth inch by inch. He was weightless for a moment, floating in otherworldly bliss while he fit himself inside her body. "Fuck," he whispered.

"Oh…yes. Yesyesyes." Asia's toes curled, gripping at nothing in a desperate attempt to remain tethered to the atmosphere. "Wait a second. Don't move." Crossing her ankles at the small of his back, Asia pulled Kelvin in a little deeper, smiling at the small groan he muffled against her skin. She just needed to feel him. In six weeks, they'd have to plan moments of intimacy and simulate sex through a screen, waiting for the day they could be together in the flesh. Tonight, with his body filling every dip and ridge like the final piece to a puzzle, they could kick the can down the road for a few more days. "Okay. I'm ready."

Agonizingly slow thrusts helped them get acquainted with one another in a new way. Kelvin lifted his head from the crook of Asia's neck, yearning to look her in the eyes for an added layer of closeness. He pecked her nose, lips, chin, cheeks, and lips again, trying to keep those three words at bay.

"Faster, baby." A firm request teetering on begging broke through Kelvin's haze while Asia tried to pull him into her body by his shoulders.

He smirked. "Oh, you can talk now?" His taunting made Asia squirm against him for extra friction before he stopped and held her in place. "You up for another lesson?"

"Mhmm," she forced out, hoping her compliance would get her closer to the real fun.

"You been quiet all week. Imma need to hear you tonight if you wanna cum."

A horny, exasperated sigh preceded a short whimper. "What? I don't know how t –"

"Yeah, you do," Kelvin encouraged. Tell me what you want, and then I'll give you what you need."

Near painful throbbing has Asia ready to agree to anything if it meant she could finally come off some of the pressure from a stressful week. Quick agreeance earned her a return to Kelvin's slow back and forth, a shiver hitting both their spines as he took a shallow dive inside.

Asia took a deep breath and tested her voice. "You - you feel so good?" She closed her eyes, hoping Kelvin would take pity on her feeble attempt only to be rewarded with nothing. She tried again. "Right there, baby."

"We'll be here all night. Relax. Be confident."

Relax. Be confident. The gentle reminder and suckling at her neck helped Asia partially release the valve on her nervousness. Kelvin rocked into her expert precision and care, waiting to hear more.

A choppy moan caught in her throat before she could speak again. "You fuck me so good. You really thought I was gonna let you get that far away from me?"

Kelvin groaned and sped up enough for Asia to notice. She smiled, palming the back of his head to keep him close.

"There it is," he whispered. "Keep goin', beautiful. Tell me some more."

Bingo. Electricity sparking between them opened up a whole new world of vocal possibility. "I want all you got tonight, baby. Can you do that for me? Fuck me until I can't take anymore?"

"Uh-huh. I got you."

Asia rubbed circles at the nape of his neck, feeling a jolt in her body from another change in pace. "Mmm. Deeper, baby. You can do better than that, right? For me?" Her provocation ignited a burning desire for Kelvin to perform. He needed the glory. Asia dropped her talking display long enough to moan through her man putting his entire being into testing the limits of his little circular wooden table.

If sweet talk couldn't get him to knock the rings out of her, goading him with a challenge undoubtedly did the trick. Scratching against his back, demanding more depth, more speed, and more kissing spurred Kelvin into fast, furious fucking.

In no time, they were close. Deliciously, dangerously close. No protection meant no staying for the final hoorah. He had to time his exit perfectly for the right mix of precision and mutual satisfaction. Though Kelvin seemed to care, Asia was just hitting her stride.

"I think about you all day, waiting for you to fuck me just like this. I want you so bad sometimes." Asia confessed while Kelvin fucked her on his toes. "Even at work, when we’re not supposed to. That’s when I need you the most.” Grabbing the sides of his face with both hands, Asia forced him to look her in the eye. "Be good for me, baby. Make me cum."

Instructions? A command? A simple slip of the tongue? Kelvin couldn't bring himself to waste brain power distinguishing. He needed to focus. Focus on Asia's nipples rubbing against his chest and how her breaths and his started to become one. Then, the light sheen of sweat helping their bodies slide against one another. He focused on the sticky coating of arousal inviting him to rub his thumbpad against her clit.

Asia squealed, then licked Kelvin's open mouth. He rasped out a command of his own. "Come on! Come on!" Resolve began to wane. Any longer, and they'd be in the nearest drug store taking the walk of shame toward the Plan B pills.

If the walls ever decided to talk, they'd blush when recounting the vision of Asia forcing Kelvin's mouth against one of her breasts, trying to balance the sting from his hand colliding with her thigh with his warm tongue tracing braille on her areola.

Her body seized, making it almost impossible for him to pull out. Every other week on a stuffy flying bus sounded like hell, but if he had this to look forward to after the wheels touched the tarmac, he could drum up some enthusiasm in no time.

At the last moment, Kelvin forced himself out of his favorite place on earth just in time for the fruits of a mind-bending orgasm to spill from his head onto Asia's inner thigh. Together, they watched fresh semen coat supple skin, their chests heaving and ears ringing. Kelvin couldn't speak. He could only watch as Asia gathered a small amount on her fingertip and swiped it against her tongue.

Kelvin moaned when Asia moaned to relish the sensory experience of his taste. "Did I pass?" Her question fell on deaf ears, with Kelvin more focused on gathering more semen on his fingers to pop into her mouth. She treated him to a show, sucking the digits clean. She spoke again. "Answer me, baby. Did I pass?"

"With flying colors," Kelvin finally answered. Asia smiled into a searing kiss, reveling in her accomplishment. A new skill had been unlocked, and one more accolade had been added to her mental trophy case.

Another lesson to take her mind off of the inevitable. At least until the morning rolled around to wash the fresh coat of paint she'd forced over a very real, immovable problem.

RINI blasting from phone speakers dampened behind the bathroom door reminded Asia of the night before and how she'd allowed the heat of the moment to lock her into a contract she'd neglected to read the fine print on.

Facing the bedroom window, Asia snuggled deeper into warm sheets and scanned the pros and cons list on her phone. Pro #1: She could eat deep-dish pizza every other month. Con #1: Her man wouldn't be nearby multiple days a week. Which was more important. She couldn't decide. Food or the comforts of stable, local partnership?

She had started typing a new con when Kelvin emerged from the bathroom naked and moisturized from head to toe. "You awake now?"

Fuck. Asia thought she had more time to plaster on her happy face. She used a pretend yawn as her buffer. "Yeah," she answered, faking the funk. "Good morning, baby."

"Morning." Unbrushed teeth could never stop Kelvin from getting his first kiss of the day. He nuzzled his nose against hers before speaking. "Sleep okay?"

"Mhm. You?"

He nodded and slipped into bed beside her. "For the most part. I gotta show you something, though." Kelvin reached back to retrieve his phone from the nightstand's charging station. A few taps against the screen presented a short list of apartment options for Asia's inspection. "I started looking at some spots in the middle of the night. This one has a crazy second room for an office. Look at that view."

A wall of windows overlooking the downtown cityscape made Asia's stomach churn. Reality smacked her in the face. He was leaving and waiting on her approval on an apartment she couldn't stand in a city she wished didn't exist.

"That's so nice, baby. You can get a nice couch in there as a gaming room, too."

Kelvin considered her suggestion and nodded. "Damn, that's a good idea. I need to take you with me when I look next week. You down?"

"Uh…yeah. Yeah, I'll come." Asia shook off her rapidly increasing heartbeat and scooched closer to rest her head on Kelvin's shoulder. "Can you show me another one?"

Enthusiasm fading into meaningless sounds turned Kelvin into Charlie Brown's teacher as he gushed over layouts and natural light. She nodded along to nothing in particular. Smile. Rub his arm. Act supportive. Be the perfect girl. Just be happy for a little longer.

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#kelvin harrison jr.#kelvin harrison jr. x black oc #kelvin harrison jr. smut

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