#SIP Guide

[curiousquill1]

Discover whether dividend mutual funds are a smart choice for long-term SIP investors. Learn about benefits, risks, and expert insights for your portfolio growth.

[shewhoeatssand]

I want to befriend Kaneki and meet with him and email him forever

[afinickyguide]

episode 142: antivan sip-sip 🍍🥥🥃

[theabstruseone]

I slept in and just woke up, so here's what I've been able to figure out while sipping coffee:

Twitter has officially rebranded to X just a day or two after the move was announced.

The official branding is that a tweet is now called "an X", for which there are too many jokes to make.

The official account is still @twitter because someone else owns @X and they didn't reclaim the username first.

The logo is 𝕏 which is the Unicode character Unicode U+1D54F so the logo cannot be copyrighted and it is highly likely that it cannot be protected as a trademark.

Outside the visual logo, the trademark for the use of the name "X" in social media is held by Meta/Facebook, while the trademark for "X" in finance/commerce is owned by Microsoft.

The rebranding has been stopped in Japan as the term "X Japan" is trademarked by the band X JAPAN.

Elon had workers taking down the "Twitter" name from the side of the building. He did not have any permits to do this. The building owner called the cops who stopped the crew midway through so the sign just says "er".

He still plans to call his streaming and media hosting branch of the company as "Xvideo". Nobody tell him.

This man wants you to give him control over all of your financial information.

Edit to add further developments:

Yes, this is all real. Check the notes and people have pictures. I understand the skepticism because it feels like a joke, but to the best of my knowledge, everything in the above is accurate.

Microsoft also owns the trademark on X for chatting and gaming because, y'know, X-box.

The logo came from a random podcaster who tweeted it at Musk.

The act of sending a tweet is now known as "Xeet". They even added a guide for how to Xeet.

The branding change is inconsistent. Some icons have changed, some have not, and the words "tweet" and "Twitter" are still all over the place on the site.

TweetDeck is currently unaffected and I hope it's because they forgot that it exists again. The complete negligence toward that tool and just leaving it the hell alone is the only thing that makes the site usable (and some of us are stuck on there for work).

This is likely because Musk was forced out of PayPal due to a failed credit line project and because he wanted to rename the site to "X-Paypal" and eventually just to "X".

This became a big deal behind the scenes as Musk paid over $1 million for the domain X.com and wanted to rebrand the company that already had the brand awareness people were using it as a verb to "pay online" (as in "I'll paypal you the money")

X.com is not currently owned by Musk. It is held by a domain registrar (I believe GoDaddy but I'm not entirely sure). Meaning as long as he's hung onto this idea of making X Corp a thing, he couldn't be arsed to pay the $15/year domain renewal.

Bloomberg estimates the rebranding wiped between $4 to $20 billion from the valuation of Twitter due to the loss of brand awareness.

The company was already worth less than half of the $44 billion Musk paid for it in the first place, meaning this may end up a worse deal than when Yahoo bought Tumblr.

One estimation (though this is with a grain of salt) said that Twitter is three months from defaulting on its loans taken out to buy the site. Those loans were secured with Tesla stock. Meaning the bank will seize that stock and, since it won't be enough to pay the debt (since it's worth around 50-75% of what it was at the time of the loan), they can start seizing personal assets of Elon Musk including the Twitter company itself and his interest in SpaceX.

Sesame Street's official accounts mocked the rebranding.

[kingkaisen]

tw: death, 18+ only: sukuna is very protective over his little wife.

“Woah, she’s hot!”

That was the first comment. SUKUNA knew then he wanted to kill this man.

“Shit, look at her.” The vulgar stranger whistled, his lustful eyes trailing the curves of your body. “I hope I can get five minutes alone with her in the bathroom.”

Sukuna swallowed a sip of his dark liquor.

He and this stranger were the only two individuals at the gathering sitting on the couches instead of mingling with the others. It was the perfect spot for him to keep an eye on you, his sweet little wife, but him alone. This man? Who dared to join Sukuna on the couch and pour himself a shot of whiskey?

He was going to die tonight. Sukuna was certain of it.

Sukuna turned to face one of the bodyguards standing beside the couch — not that Sukuna needed any protection. Silently, he gestured in your direction, and the bodyguard immediately understood Sukuna’s wordless command.

The stranger watched the interaction take place. He watched the guard approach you and guide you over to the sitting area, and he smiled wildly.

“You’re bringing her to me? You’re a good man,” he said.

Sukuna took another sip of his dark liquor.

When you arrived, a kind smile on your face, Sukuna put his glass down on a nearby table and patted his lap twice.

Happily, you took your seat, and his large hand rubbed your hip.

Oh, the man was stunned. Angry.

“Hey, I called dibs on that bitch first,” he spat.

Sukuna watched the corners of your lips fall as the man continued on, on, and on. During his ramble, Sukuna whispered in your ear, “Close your eyes and cover your ears, girl.”

You did as you were told, though it did little to muffle the sound of the gunshot that came seconds later.

The party guests were silent for a moment, but after observing you in Sukuna’s lap, a gun in his hand, and an unfamiliar dead body bleeding out on the couch, they were quick to return to their conversations.

After all, Sukuna owned this building. This party was his. And this wasn’t the first time he had to murder someone on his kindhearted wife’s behalf.

“Hey,” Sukuna, who was aggressive with every other soul except for you, spoke softly. “I’ll cheer you up when we get home, pretty girl.”

With him, that could have meant watching reruns of your favorite show with you, or him sloppily licking at your clit until you came repeatedly.

More than likely both.

[myqualities]

Source: http://h-o-r-n-g-r-y.tumblr.com

[war-forged-storms]

I know that some people get very nervous around the idea of having sex while under the influence, but don’t worry, I’ll guide you.

You can come sit on my lap and I’ll hold your cup or can or whatever and help you drink it down, all while my other hand feels you over your underwear. We’ll go nice and slow, I won’t slip my fingers into them until you whisper in a drawl that you want it. If you really struggle with it, I can take the sip of your drink or take the shot for you and spit it into your mouth through a kiss. That way there’s less thinking work for you.

You can take an edible or something and I’ll slowly start to go down on you while you’re in a nice and hazey. If you’re comfortable with smoking, maybe I’d let you take a few hits off my joint, or again I can shotgun them to you, make even getting stoned something out of your responsibility. Just lay down and let me make you feel good.

I’ll tell you everything I’m doing and everything I’m going to do. I’ll make sure you’re as comfortable and care free as you can be while I work orgasm after orgasm out of you when you’re in your own little world.

[cathnospam]

Bakugo, but his sex drive sky rocketed when you both got together and he doesn’t realize it.

“Here. Drink.”

“Mm.” Was all you were able to mumble out from your face being smooshed into the pillow.

Your body was already growing in soreness and your little blonde firecracker could tell, he rolls his eyes playfully at your starfish figure, littered in pre developed hickies and your decorative blanket covering only what’s between your legs

He takes a sip of the cold water bottle he took from your mini fridge to sit beside you back on the bed, “Y’ still with us or what. I wasn’t even that rough this time.”

“I know, but you have to count this morning too when you had me damn near do the splits on the wall.”

“You said you wanted to try that move next time I ate your pussy?!”

“Yeah well.” You groan rolling over, his hand touches your side while guiding you to sit up and take his water bottle, “Didn’t realize I’d be in that position for 4 minutes.”

“Yeah…you usually cum within like 2 and a half when I eat—“

You cover his dirty mouth and sip the drink, it felt like your body was already getting cooled down from the inside you gulped it for a few more seconds, “Shut up.”

It was a comfortable silence, you threw your head back on the headboard to focus your thoughts again. You knew Bakugo had stamina like a mad man but the way how he’s able to get so viscously pussy drunk and the moment he cums he’s able to just get up and walk around like it’s nobody’s business concerns you.

He just had you face down a few minutes ago, crying out and hollering his name and now he’s just staring at you with a soft look of love

….and possibly lust because his eyes wandered back down to your breast and back to your neck. You couldn’t see him do it, but you definitely could feel it.

He leans in to suckle your throat, peppering quiet kisses to pull you closer. You eventually felt his warm hand slide between the wet mess between your thighs, gliding against your clit to make you shriek and clench your legs as a reflex.

“Hey!” You giggle at his ministrations, but firmly grasp his hand, “Again?”

“Only if you want to. Figured you wasn’t sleep right after so….”

It was really a surprise to you Bakugo was more than willing to have sex back to back and so much with you once you both started doing it, it’s almost all you two do when you have free time together if you aren’t training or studying. You’re not complaining at all, but it definitely was something you giggle thinking about.

“What?”

Your thoughts resurfaced and he quirked his eyebrow up in confusion almost breaking into a laugh without you, but still curious, “What? Spit it out.”

“I don’t know…I just never pegged you for a guy that liked to have sex this much.”

Almost immediately his cheeks burned a tinge of red, eyes widening he sit back and crosses his arms in a pout, slightly embarrassed at the realization, “Just because I never fucked anybody, but you doesn’t mean I’m a fucking prude or something.”

“Of course you’re not. I just…assumed after we had sex the first time you’d only wanna do it like…once every two weeks or something.”

The look on his face was pure confusion and offense.

“Every t—- so you think I’m a fucking prude???!!”

“I don’t!”

“You do, —-TWICE EVERY MONTH ARE YOU INSANE?!”

His tone was annoyed and offended you couldn’t help but to laugh even more, but he seriously was confused as to why’d you think that. I mean have you seen yourself ? He can’t get enough??!!

“Well excuse me for wanting you. God forbid a man loves his girl.”

Hearing his voice gravel and wear down you stop your laughter to look at him, he tries looking the opposite way, but you knew from how he side eye’d you he was just being dramatic.

Using the bit of strength you had left you climb on top of him. For a moment you admire his scars and flushed body, the way his chest practically turns into a deep cleavage when he crosses his arms, his sharp jawline, the veins.

Hell, you was happy as fuck he loved to fuck you. Look at him.

“That’s not what I meant. Growing up you always were so focused on being a hero, that seeing you doing anything but is….fun to see. And im happy I’m the one to bring that fun side out of you.”

Still looking away you cup his chubby cheeks, thumb rubbing against them and you kiss his forehead, he looks up at you, “If you think I’m only with you for the sex you’re wrong, dumbass.”

“I know. Sex is just a plus. You remind me that everyday we are together.

Though he was still a little pissy about your twice a month comment he pulled you closer, chest to chest, “yeah? I feel the same way, and the whole reason why I started having consistent sex with you is to catch up.”

“Catch up?”

“Yeah….we dated for 2 years and never done it…gatta make up for it.”

“Baby we been having sex for 3 weeks straight, 5 days a week.”

“So.”

“We started having sex almost 4 months ago.”

“SO?! Jeez if you don’t like fucking then tell me.”

“Oh no…pfft I love when we do this. You make pretty faces when I ride you.”

“Fuck you!”

“Nah…but can I fuck you?”

You didn’t let him respond back, you just kissed him again, before adjusting your body to grind against his already growing erection again.

“Damn nympho.” Bakugo wanted to retort again, but it was broken up into a strained groan when you started stroking his dick.

“Takes one to know one.”

[curiousquill1]

Are Dividend Mutual Funds a Smart Choice for Long-Term SIP Investors?

Systematic investment plan returns can range substantially depending on the form of mutual price range you pick out. When making plans for your funding method, finding out the difference between dividend mutual fund’s and boom options frequently creates confusion for traders. This desire becomes mainly important when you're devoted to the lengthy-time-period wealth creation journey.

Many buyers are drawn to dividend mutual funds due to the regular income they provide. These finances distribute a portion of the income earned from their investments as dividends to unit holders. But is that absolutely the greatest approach for a person who is diligently making an investment through SIPs month after month?

When evaluating systematic funding plan returns, it is crucial to apprehend how dividend payouts affect your long-term wealth accumulation. Dividend mutual price ranges would possibly seem appealing first of all, but they'll now not always align along with your financial planning desires, in particular in case you're within the wealth-constructing segment of your life.

Dividend Mutual Funds: Appealing but Not Always Ideal

The attraction of dividend mutual funds is understandable. They offer a sense of actual returns through periodic payments that could feel reassuring while markets are volatile. For retirees or those desiring everyday income, systematic funding plan returns in the shape of dividends assist in preserving coins and going with the flow without selling devices.

However, the math regularly tells a special story for long-term investors. When dividends are paid out, the fund's Net Asset Value (NAV) drops proportionally. With this method, the cash you get ahold of as dividends is largely taken out of your funding, decreasing the base on which future returns can compound.

Growth Options and the Power of Compounding

Financial planning professionals normally propose boom options for younger traders with long-term horizons. In a growth budget, all returns are reinvested mechanically, allowing your cash to gain from compounding—regularly referred to as the eighth wonder of the international economy. The power of compounding in systematic funding plan returns can't be overstated, specifically over many years.

Consider this state of affairs: Two buyers begin SIPs of equal amounts inside the identical fund—one chooses the dividend alternative while the other selects growth. After 20 years, assuming similar marketplace situations, the growth investor will probably gather extensively greater wealth due to the fact every rupee earned stays invested and generates extra returns.

Taxation and Psychological Impact

Tax implications similarly complicate subjects. Dividend mutual funds distribute earnings, and it is taxable in the investor's hands at relevant income tax costs. Meanwhile, in the growth price range, taxation takes place best while gadgets are bought, and that too with the gain of indexation if held long-term.

For buyers who conflict with the field to stick with systematic investment plan returns at some stage in market downturns, seeing ordinary dividend credit can offer motivation to maintain making an investment.

Conclusion: Which Is Smarter for Long-Term SIP Investors?

The decision ultimately relies upon your financial desires, time horizon, and income wishes. If you're investing for a far-off milestone like retirement and don't need cutting-edge earnings, increasing your budget will usually provide higher systematic funding plan returns over the long run. However, in case you're drawing close to retirement or need periodic cash drift, dividend mutual funds would possibly have an area in your portfolio.

Regardless of which course you pick out, the consistency of SIP making an investment paired with a well-concepted monetary making plans strategy remains the cornerstone of a hit wealth creation. The most critical thing is staying invested through marketplace cycles rather than the precise fund structure you select.

[ozzgin]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut, NSFW!

I’m harping on that arranged marriage trope again, but imagine being kidnapped as a spouse for a monstrous demon lord who has a thing for humans. You’re not the first attempt, but the household servants have truly lost count on how many humans crossed their threshold. Some ran away, some were eaten alive: none of the poor, frail mortals could handle the grotesque creature and his equally terrifying temper.

They guide you to the sleeping chambers with a pitiful gaze. They expect to pick up your scattered body tomorrow morning and scrub the dried blood off the floors.

What no one took into consideration was that you’re a shameless monster fucker. One glance at the beastly husband, and you fumble to remove your clothes with trembling hands. This is going to be good, you tell yourself, face flushed in obvious arousal. His unholy majesty certainly didn’t expect you’d hop straight on his dick, no questions asked. Not that he’s complaining much; on the contrary, it takes mere seconds for him to become completely feral.

The next day, you peacefully sip on your tea, pretending not to notice the baffled stares of the servants. If that wasn’t shocking enough, their master walks in with a genuine smile on his face.

Who would’ve thought, all he needed was a good fuck.

[More Monsters] | [Part 2]

[eraserbread]

Obsessed with your Nanamin ♡ Also obsessed with the idea of our boy being a virgin before he meets his wife so she's his one and only. Wow I wish he was real.

four weeks into dating, and kento's barely even grazed your hand. it's not that he doesn't like you, because he does a little too much. you're all he thinks about -- all he pines and stews over when he's alone.

you two met in the odd space between high school and the thought of university where nanami was finally feeling the toll sorcery was taking on him, only going out once a week to drink his guilt away. it’s there, at dinner with co-workers that he meets you — a mutual friend of his desk mate who had a little too much to drink one night.

now, nineteen-year-old nanami was not the nicest. he drank and spent his sleepless nights staring at walls, begging for a reason, or just purpose.

he has terrible insomnia because he sees the ones he lost to curses every time he closes his eyes. it’s why he left sorcery in the first place. he’s not strong. he’s barely capable of keeping his own head up. call it teenage angst, but nanami will call it his burdensome state.

eighteen year old you was full-spirited and beautiful. you always had friends begging to go out drinking and partying. that year was a whirlwind of nasty hookups, terrible hangovers and love-lust. safe to say, you and kento were complete opposites.

all that to say — opposites do attract, and nanami's been obsessed with you ever since that fateful drunken night.

it was one particular morning date over two cups of strong coffee that you finally poke a little further than the stupid childhood stories and plans for the future. you want him to touch you.

"i won't lie, i've been waiting for you to touch me this whole time." it feels embarrassing to finally say out loud, but you didn't know how many more hints you had to give him.

he stills over his sip of coffee, vibrant hazel eyes going stagnant. you can tell you finally got him -- you sparked a reaction.

that day, as soon as he gets you home, he's pushing you on the bed. nanami's all heavy breaths as he crawls over you in the afternoon light, biting over his bottom lip as he meets your gaze.

"i'll try and be gentle..." he whispers before sliding down and tucking his head under your loose t-shirt. kento fits so perfectly there, purring against your warmth as he kisses up your stomach, lips finding their home against your lower sternum.

you're blushed down to your toes, rocking your knees together under kento's lanky frame. he's got you on lock, left hand finding your wrist against his sheets to hold you there.

you've never been this intimate. he's closer to your heart than you are.

"can you breathe down there?" you whisper, breathing harder when you feel him drag to your left nipple.

"mhm." he responds, vibrating the entirety of your body. he gives your nipple a little experimental lick, stopping to gauge your whining reaction. "breathin' you."

"fuck, kento."

he's blushing so fucking hard when he comes out from under your shirt, golden hair ruffled with static. it gives you something adjacent to cuteness aggression, you just want to kiss him already.

it's missionary that first time -- he hovers over you like a angel, pretty eyes screwed shut as the tip of his cock drags slowly through your slit. it's driving you crazy, all this build-up, but nanami can't stop. he fucking loves the way touching you like this felt, this was enough.

"you won't... it's not gonna hurt me, just do it. put it in." it's your final, desperate plea for more, but he's too caught in his head. he shakes it.

"i can't... i can't cause i'm gonna - I'll finish." he's tucking his cheek into his shoulder, whining low as he guides his tip across your entrance. it dips so perfectly there like it's meant to fit, but he just doesn't do it.

it's actually starting to get annoying.

deep down you have an inkling he doesn't really know what he's doing. but, it's okay because neither do you. you know that his lips on your sternum felt good, but the thought of his body inside of yours felt even better.

you just wanted him to take you. you've never wanted something more.

you whine. "nanami, what are you so afraid of?" you try, snaking hand up his naked back to the base of his neck. he shivers hard at your touch but he loves it.

"don't wanna... oh, baby..." he murmurs when your fingers find the tension knot just at the base, using strong fingers to massage over it. "just don't wanna hurt you."

"the only thing that'll hurt me is if you leave. just don't leave me," you pull him close, hugging both arms around the back of his neck.

"so, just put it in... please, please please."

[misswynters]

Strapped up

Sevika x afab!reader / wc: ?

WARNINGS: 18+, smut again, riding, sevika with hexcore strap (i delivered), dom! sevika & switch!reader, BITING, rough rex, mating press, teasing, misspellings?

similar writings | Brothel

also on ao3 (not yet, under doorkiluv)

a/n: sipping on my ginger tea while i wait for yalls reactions, also pls give me feedback (and don’t only just like but also reblog and comment 🫶🏼)

You thought life couldn’t get any better. Standing in the same room with sevika, with whom you shared a special relationship with. You didn’t exactly know what kind of bond you guys had, but it was one filled with pleasure and love. Which brings you back to the current moment on had, sevika leaning against her bed frame. She looked amazing as always with her powerful build as a warm glow soften the edges of her place, which stood at the heart of Zaun. Her eyes followed you, a faint smirk on her lips as she watched you approach, her usual guarded expression giving way to something more inviting, almost hungry.

"Come here," she commanded softly, her voice smooth and warm, a note of challenge woven into her words. As you climbed onto her lap, Sevika's hands settled on your waist, her fingers strong and grounding as she held you close. The slight hum of her hextech prosthetic reminded you of the power she wielded over you. You couldn't help but shiver under her touch as her gaze slowly roamed over you.

As you settled, she adjusted the strap on her hexcore, its soft glow flickering against her skin as she tilted her head, a lazy grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. She looked up at you, her eyes flickering with amusement and something deeper, a silent confidence that made you feel like she knew every reaction she could pull from you before you did. You braced yourself, anticipation thrumming through your veins as her hands tightened on your hips. The strap was long, thick and had glowy blueish veins. Just by looking at it barely inches away made you feel wild, wondering how it the world it would fit.

Sevika guided you down onto her with a firm grip, setting the pace. She filled you slowly, letting you feel every inch of her as she watched your face. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn't hold back a moan as you sank down. You could feel the subtle hum of her strap resonate within you. Sevika's smirk widened at your reaction, a faint chuckle escaping her as she took in every flicker of response. "Good," she murmured, her voice low and approving, fingers pressing into your hips to draw you down harder, setting a steady, demanding rhythm. "That's what I like to see... you taking all of it."

Her words made your face flush, and her hands held you tight, grounding you against her hips as she gazed down towards you. The wet, squelching sounds that your folds made filled the room, mingling with your soft moans as she urged you to keep going. Every time you tried to pull back, Sevika's grip would tighten, her gaze holding you in place. “Not so fast," she whispered, a hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. "I'm not done with you yet, we are just starting."

The intensity of her hold and the firmness of her voice left you breathless, and each time you moved, she met your rhythm with an unwavering strength, amplifying the sensations that were already overwhelming. The roughness of her hands against your hips alongside the hum of the hextech strap as she bounced you on her cock, left you trembling as you tried to keep up with her.

"Look at you," Sevika murmured, her voice a mixture of admiration and amusement as she took in your flushed cheeks and parted lips. Her eyes traced over you slowly, savoring every detail as she adjusted her grip. She placed her hands around your waist as she laced her fingers together, guiding you to a deeper angle that made you gasp. "You're something else, aren't you? Never thought you'd be able to handle all of me."

With a firm grip on your waist, Sevika shifted beneath you, her strength effortlessly flipping you over so that you were now pinned beneath her. You felt a thrill at the way she moved confidently. She loomed over you, her eyes gleaming with that familiar intensity, a mixture of dominance and affection in her gaze as she took in your flushed expression.

"You trust me, don't you?" she murmured, her voice a low, tantalizing whisper as her hands found your thighs, pushing them up toward your chest. Her grip was steady, but there was an undeniable gentleness in the way she held you, ensuring you were comfortable even as she positioned you to her liking. You barely managed a nod, but that was enough for her. With a satisfied smirk, Sevika leaned forward, planting a brief, possessive kiss on your lips before she pulled back, her gaze flicking down to where your bodies met. Her strap glowed against your wet folds as she slid it between them, you were so wet that it was completely coated with your arousal.

She shifted her hips, the intensity start to build as she pushed in deeply, her pace starting slow and measured, as if she was trying to savor each thrust. But soon enough, she picked up speed, finding a pace that left you gasping, your hands clutching onto her thick biceps as she began to push into you with a force that sent shivers through you. The bed creaked beneath you, the sound punctuating each movement. However you hardly noticed, too lost in the sensation as she pushed you closer to the edge with each rapid thrust.

As Sevika held your legs pressed up to your chest, driving into you with that unrelenting rhythm, you felt yourself unraveling under her touch. The wet, slick noises filled the room, each thrust punctuated by the steady creaking of the bed. The overwhelming sensations left you clinging to her shoulders, your voice breaking into desperate, pleading gasps. "Sevika, please," you whispered, nearly breathless, your hands gripping her broad shoulders, digging in with every surge of pleasure. "Don't stop... please, just like that... harder."

A wicked smirk crossed her face as she caught the raw desperation in your voice. "So needy," she murmured, her tone thick with satisfaction. "Look at you, begging for more. You want me to ruin you, don't you?" Sevika's hands tightened on your thighs, spreading your thighs further open as she drove into you with powerful thrusts. Her gaze never leaving your face as she took in every reaction, every shiver and gasp.

You nodded, too caught up to feel anything but the sheer need flooding through you. "Yes... please," you gasped, almost incoherent as she picked up the pace, pushing deeper and harder. Your thighs shook under her iron grip, pinned against your chest, each thrust sending a surge of sensation that left you on the edge of surrender.

Driven by the intensity, you instinctively leaned forward and bit down on her shoulder, desperate to ground yourself through the torrent of pleasure. Sevika froze for a heartbeat, her breath catching, and then she let out a deep, approving growl, her gaze dark and delighted as she felt the imprint of your teeth. "Oh, you like it rough, huh?" she murmured, her voice a husky whisper as she gazed down at you. "Good. Hold on tight, then."

Instead of slowing, she surged forward, her pace turning rapid, unyielding, her thrusts deep and forceful, spurred on by the way you clung to her. "Bite me all you want," she encouraged, her voice sultry, almost daring. "I want to hear how much you need this."

"Sevika, please-don't stop," you begged, your voice breaking into soft cries as the bed protested under her relentless rhythm, creaking with each thrust that left you gasping. "I... I need more, please... harder."

She chuckled, her fingers gripping your thighs even tighter, pressing them to your chest as she drove into you with renewed fervor, clearly enjoying every sound that escaped your lips. "Oh, you're not getting off easy," she taunted, her voice rough with pleasure. "I'm not stopping until you're completely spent... until you're begging for mercy."

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, drawing helpless cries from your lips that only seemed to spur her on. Her gaze flicked down between you, and a wicked grin crept onto her face as she noticed the slick, glistening mess where you were connected, a white ring forming with each deep push. "Look at this," she murmured, her voice thick with pride. "Look at the mess you're making for me."

Her words sent a shiver through you, heightening the need coursing through your veins, and you clung to her even tighter, breathless, pleading. "Please, Sevika... I can't... I can't take much more."

"There you go," she whispered, her voice a mixture of praise and satisfaction as she watched you unravel beneath her. "Taking my cock so well... just like I knew you would." Her words sent a thrill through you, and you felt yourself clench around her, your breath hitching as she continued to move with unyielding precision. Her pace only grew, each thrust bringing a fresh wave of pleasure that left you breathless, your body arching up into her as you felt the pressure building to an overwhelming peak. She noticed, of course-she noticed everything-and her smirk widened as she leaned down, her mouth brushing against your ear as she murmured, "Relax."

The way she spoke, commanding yet tender, was enough to send you over the edge. You felt yourself shudder beneath her, your release leaving a mess between you both, soaking the sheets and intensifying the slick sounds with each movement. Sevika slowed only slightly, savoring the way you trembled beneath her, her gaze filled with a rare softness as she held you close, letting the softness of the moment sink in.

As the aftermath of the moment settled over you both, Sevika shifted back just enough to look down, a smirk slowly curling at the corners of her mouth. She took in the scene beneath her the sheets soaked and rumpled, your flushed face, and the way your body still trembled slightly from the intensity of it all.

"What a mess," she murmured, a teasing glint in her eyes as she caressed her thumb along your thigh, feeling the warmth that lingered there. "Didn't know you had it in you." Her tone was low, playful, and laced with that familiar, effortless confidence. "You really couldn't hold back, could you?"

"Maybe... maybe I wouldn't have made such a mess if you hadn't been so relentless," you shot back, meeting her gaze with a playful glint of your own, though the flush on your cheeks betrayed just how affected you still were. "Besides... I think you enjoyed it just as much."

Sevika let out a low, approving chuckle, her fingers still lazily tracing over your thigh. "Oh, I enjoyed every second," she replied, leaning down until her lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

"And don't think I didn't notice how you were clinging to me, begging for more." You bit your lip, her words making your heart race again. "You're the one who kept pushing me. I... I could barely keep up," you admitted, voice soft yet tinged with playful defiance. "You make it impossible to resist."

Sevika's smirk deepened, her thumb stroking along your jawline as she took in every detail of your expression. “Good," she teased. "I want you like this-completely undone, messy, all because of me."

You shivered under her gaze, but you found yourself smiling, a bit of daring creeping into your voice. "Then maybe... next time, you should try to keep up with me."

Her brows lifted, clearly intrigued by the challenge, and her smirk softened into something warmer, more intimate. "Oh, I'm looking forward to it."

to be continued…

taglist: @i02elss @diffusebread @tsukiroe @iamastar @angel4youu @fict1onallyobsessed @blckbny @littlyamadeus @sum0y @girln1ghtm4re @kissyslut @jayden-prentiss @poppyluvsworld @averysmallfox @cacston @indigospinels @bakugous-titties @yer-boiiii @sevikitty @marinayadayada @urnewghostfriend @sincerely-forest @thefulcrumfiles @srtctra @themostlesbianever @ittiwdwysylm @xxblairslairxx @invadergir45 @wokensiren @thesevi0lentdelights @fizzyypopp @k2-p @idk2anym @lucidtobio @mvistl @vampthrobbb @theresascove @trulycarini @her-gayness @savethegoddamturtles @isabelly7801 @atinytrashcan @abbyssgf @maneskinwh0re @lovebbpotato @morphids @missevillyn @sevyscoven @elsbunny

banner: @cafekitsune

[qardenofeden]

contrary to popular belief, osamu miya is not any better than his twin brother, especially when he’s with you.

this must be your fourth date this month, and it’s barely even two weeks in. so, in order to save money, osamu proposes a little life hack. a cheat code, if you will.

“baby, i got this ring at a pawn shop,” he takes a small, rusty ring from his pocket and presents it to you as he continues, “i’ll pretend i’m proposin’ to ya and all ya gotta say is yes, okay? free dinner, easy peasy.”

you sigh, holding back your laughter as you pinch your temple. “‘samu, that’s unethical.”

“whaaaat? no way, come on, baby. we’ll get to go on dates more often if we do this,” he says, and you know you shouldn’t say yes. you should be the angel in this scenario, guiding him towards the right path. the path of the just and the good.

...but then again, why would osamu date you if you weren’t at least a tiny bit similar in terms of thinking?

“fine.”

“hells yeah!” he celebrates, looking around and waiting for one of the staff members to enter your vicinity. luckily, it doesn’t take long until a blonde girl walks to the table next to yours and starts cleaning up the leftover dishes the previous party has left behind.

osamu looks at you, grinning before he gets off the chair and gets on his knee. you cup your mouth with both your hands, seemingly in shock; though in reality, you’re doing it to prevent yourself from laughing like a madman.

“my sweet, beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend. i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

and the restaurants’ guests just eat. it. up. the crowd cheers, much like how they do in his games, and they chant “yes, yes, yes!”

“yes!” you burst out in laughter, jolting out of your seat and hugging him. he lifts you up slightly before putting you back to the ground and kissing you, lips soft and at your mercy.

osamu puts a ring on your finger as the crowd yells and howls, and later that night, the manager approaches the two of you and tells you not to worry about the bill.

atsumu’s been rubbing off on your boyfriend too much.

and so this becomes a ritual, though you’re both careful not to overuse it. you reserve it for anniversaries and small celebrations, like his team winning a big tournament or you getting a high score from a grumpy professor.

and though it doesn’t always work, you guys at least get a little dessert on the house.

until one day, when you’re a high end, fancy restaurant. you’re wearing a silk, red dress with so much jewelry, you’re practically shining. the chandelier lights reflect off of his rolex watch, and you both have just finished eating.

“this place is really good, osamu. we should come here more often.” you take a sip of the wine, drinking in delight.

“yeah... hey babe, what’s that?” he points behind you and you turn immediately in curiosity.

“...huh? ‘samu, i don’t see anything,” you turn back around to face him, but lo and behold, osamu miya is down on one knee.

your eyes look around in shock, clearly taken aback. “wha— babe, we didn’t plan this?!”

“i know,” he chuckles, pulling out a ring similar to the one he bought at the pawn shop, except brighter, cleaner. with more diamonds than you could ever even imagine. “my love, i’ve loved you since i’ve known you, and i’ll love you for as long as i do. will ya marry me?”

sure is a good thing osamu’s got practice.

@deardoelle mwah

[ofglories]

“NO” / Caster Arthur ( look he has to protect him son- )

|| A meme that tumblr apparently ate since it's impossible for me to find

It all happened too quickly for Arthur to fully process.

What had been a normal lesson with him balancing on a fallen log while Merlin spoke swiftly changed for the worse. One moment the boy had been laughing at something his teacher had to say, the next he was blinking stars out of his eyes, staring up in confusion at Merlin hovering over him. Then, something wet fell on his cheek, drawing jade green eyes towards Merlin's shoulder where they grew wide in shock. Arrows, several of them from what he could see, peppering his foster father's shoulder and back.

His breathing picked up, hands beginning to tingle uncomfortably.

"M...Merlin...?"

Arthur shoved himself from the ground, pushing Merlin back as gently as he could, shuddering at the feeling of the man's blood on his hands. It didn't feel like human blood any more than it looked like it at all, but it was still blood. Still something that belonged inside. A quick scan and... there. The men who shot his teacher, had seemingly been aiming for him.

They were still carrying their bows, though they were tossing them aside now as they approached.

The setting sun glinted oddly on their crimson mail, a vaguely familiar crest on each of the trio's right pauldrons.

His hands burned hotter, everything growing muted oddly in his ears while, at the same time, grew brighter and brighter in his eyes. There was something wrong, but Arthur didn't care. Whatever it was, he could deal with it later, he decided, even as the oak of his staff creaked ominously in his clenched hands as he stood. Facing the men, the knights, the boy raised it to point at them in warning. It wasn't deserved, of course. But he had to give them a chance to walk away on their own first.

"G-Go away. Leave!"

"Look at that, the boy's practically the spitting image of him," one of the men laughed, still approaching.

"Almost. More like a scrawny little cat than a dragon, I'd say," another responded. The third stayed silent, pulling a rope from the pouch at his belt and...

Arthur didn't know what happened next.

Later he would remember yelling at them to leave one more time. Would remember striking the ground with his staff with only a wordless desire to scare them away running through his mind. The oak shattering in a burst of light was something he only knew from the splinters in his hands later. But the golden light that filled his eyes, filled the air with color and an echoing roar that had the men screaming before the light engulfed them?

That he only knew from Merlin's account later.

Much later, after Arthur was busy fretting about his broken staff.

[simpforboys]

surprise! (2)

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: reader and drew shoot the ‘perfume’ music video!

warnings: fluff, swearing, sexual themes but no real smut, kisses

‘perfume’ by del water gap

part one , part three, part four

It was bright and early on a Wednesday in December.

You had been up since six am to be on set, get costumes all organized, makeup done, hair done, and just make sure your vision was really coming along how you wanted it to.

After all, 'Perfume' was a big deal to you, now even more so due to the fact that your dream man was going to be your on-screen lover.

When Drew finally showed up at eight am, almost exactly on the dot, he was a little disorganized due to not getting as much sleep as he should have the night before.

You were talking to the director, clearly deep in the discussion as you explained your vision as best as your chaotic brain could.

"Drew is here," your manager came walking over.

Fuck.

You looked over, seeing Drew standing awkwardly by the trailers as he looked around at the film location.

It was pronounced you had chosen to do more of a countryside feel, the old farmhouse that had people constantly going in and out of it in order to set up for later scenes.

The location was beautiful, though. Grass, sand, hills, and for the actual land, it was quiet.

"Hey, good morning."

You walked over to Drew, trying to hide your pounding heart and the bags under your eyes (because, obviously, you hadn't been able to sleep the night before).

"Good morning." Drew looked at you, a small smile on his tired face.

"Are you hungry? We have breakfast and coffee over here," you guided Drew over to the food station, hands shaking with nervousness.

"Coffee sounds good, yeah." Drew murmurs, trying not to stare at you in your outfit.

You had chosen to wear blue overalls with a black long-sleeve shirt, and brown cowboy boots to fit into the countryside vibe you were going for.

"Sorry, I barely slept last night."

Drew shook his head, a small smile on his face.

"No, you're good. You just... look good."

Your eyes widened slightly at his compliment, your face feeling hot. God, why did he have to be fucking sweet?

"I don't normally wear this shit," you tried to deflect off of it and make a joke.

Drew smiled, shaking his head softly as he took a sip of the hot coffee.

"I'm assuming we're going to be cowboys?" He teased.

You shrug, a small smirk curling onto your lips.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity to give everyone cowboy Drew." You joked back, instantly feeling a little embarrassed.

Being hyperaware and anxious was absolutely not helping anything about any and all interactions with him.

"Okay, so you're welcome to help yourself to anything. I have to film some solo shots, but probably in around thirty to forty-five minutes, the costume lady will come to get you."

You spoke, avoiding looking at him.

Drew hummed, watching you get all nervous and embarrassed. As much as he wanted to reassure you that you were fine, he couldn't deny how amusing it was to see you get all shy around him.

"Thank you," he murmured.

While you went off to shoot some solo stuff, Drew was in the trailer as the ladies gave him some makeup and fixed his short hair.

You wanted him to wear blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plain white shirt that had some dirt on it to make the appearance that he had been working outside.

By the time Drew was dismissed, you were finishing up filming. Staring at the footage that was just shot, your song playing in the background as you stood around the property or lip sung.

Glancing over and seeing Drew in the damn outfit you picked made your heart physically flutter.

He looked good.

You would definitely be feeding his fans (and yourself) content.

“How do I look?” He walked over to you, a small smirk on his face.

“Good… yeah, uh, good. Exactly how I envisioned.”

Why the fuck were you so nervous? Why the fuck was he so handsome and intimidating?

He hummed, wanting to tease you a little more before the director cut in.

“Okay, so you two are going to be sitting in the truck. Drew will be driving with Y/n in the passenger seat. When I say ‘go’, I want Drew to slowly reach over and hold her hand. Look at each other with soft, warm, loving eyes.”

The director says. The two of you nod in agreement, getting into the truck.

Drew placed his hands on the wheel as you looked out the window. The filming location was genuinely so pretty, and you were very pleased with your decision.

The camera man slid into the backseat with the big camera, making sure the angles would all be right.

“Okay, three, two, one… action!”

You continue to stare out the window as Drew drives the truck along the grassy pathway, ‘Perfume’ playing in the background.

And I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now

You tried not to have your breath hitch when you felt his large, warm hand grab yours and intertwine your fingers.

Glancing over at him, your eyes met his gorgeous blue ones, a genuine look of affection filling your gaze, mirroring his.

But his was probably fake, he’s an actor after all.

Drew gave you a soft smile, which caused a small grin to curl onto your lips.

“And cut!”

‘Perfume’ cut off, but you were hyperaware of the way Drew didn’t immediately pull his hand from your’s.

In fact, you were the first to pull away, nearly shitting your pants at the way your hand tingled.

Drew cut the engine of the car, the director coming to the passenger side window as he leaned against it.

“That was really good, you could feel the tension in the gaze. For the next shot, we want Drew to get out of the car with Y/n to follow. Outside the car, start walking up towards the house, when Drew is going to place his hand on your waist and pull you towards him. Share a passionate kiss, and press her against the door.” The director said.

Oh. Oh. Oh.

“Sounds good,” Drew hums, glancing briefly at you.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the way your face felt warm as you nodded in agreement.

‘Perfume’ started playing in the background again, the next scene about to start.

“Okay… three, two, one… action!”

'Cause I wanna do all of the things, baby, I said I wanna do with you… 'Less this is a lie and I don't know myself like I thought…

Wait, this is a mess, I could be wrong, I could be so damn mistaken

Both you and Drew got out of the car, a sheepish smile on both of your faces as you start walking towards the house.

Your heart stammered in your chest when you both stepped onto the porch and his large hand snaked around your waist, tugging you firmly into him.

He dipped his head down, capturing your lips.

You were kissing Drew fucking Starkey.

Immediately, you both melted into the kiss. Your hands were on his jaw and the back of his neck, his other hand going to rest on your lower back, just on top of your ass.

Drew almost forgot where he was for a minute as he slipped his tongue into your warm mouth.

He pressed your back against the front door of the house, you pulling him down so his body is flush against yours.

Fuck.

You were both thinking it.

“And, cut!” The director called.

You were both so raptured into the kiss neither of you heard it immediately.

“Cut!” The director called again, trying to hide his snicker.

Drew slowly pulled his lips away from you, his hands sliding off your body, making you feel cold.

“Sorry,” he murmured. His blue eyes bore into yours.

“You two take five, we needa get the bedroom all ready for the next shot,” the director said.

You moved away from the door to sit on the front patio furniture of the house. Your lips were tingling, mind racing at the thought that you just made out with your celebrity crush.

Drew looked sheepish and a little embarrassed that he let himself get so into a kiss. It was definitely a first for him.

“You want a water or anything?” Drew asked you.

“Uh, yeah, sure. Thank you,” you swallowed. You were still feeling a little breathless from what just happened.

By the time Drew came back with your water, the director had also returned.

Both you and Drew followed the man into the back bedroom of the old farmhouse. It was bare, with the basic furniture of a wardrobe, bed, and nightstands.

You wanted it to be basic, you wanted it to add the detail into the story you were trying to convey.

"So, we're going to set the camera up right at this angle. Drew push Y/n back onto the bed and climb on top of her, still kissing. Only break the kiss so you can both pull your shirts off. Then we're going to cut it into a birds-eye view. Sound good for now?" The director hums.

Oh. Drew was going to see you in your bra.

You might have forgotten about that when you came up with ideas for the music video.

Drew nods, his eyes flickering over to yours, meeting your gaze before you both quickly look away. Why was he so nervous?

He had seen boobs, he had seen women in bras. Maybe it was the fact that he was going to see yours was driving him a little crazy, making him forget all about his professional side for a moment.

You unbuttoned your overalls at the top so it would be easier to pull your shirt off for the scene.

"Three, two, one... action!"

But I'm picturing you right now, I'm thinking of you right now, I'm picturing you right now

With nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

The familiar beat of your song and lyrics came on, but you paid absolutely no attention to it when Drew kissed you again.

He flopped you back onto the bed, your body bouncing slightly. But neither of you dared to disconnect your lips, his tongue slipping in your mouth yet again.

A very small, faint whine left your throat when he pulled away to tug his shirt off. No fucking way you just did that.

Unbeknownst to you, the small whine made Drew's entire body go rigid. His mind was starting to drift into what you would sound like actually in bed.

You arched your back up, trying to remember that there was a giant camera on you both. You pulled your black long-sleeve up and over your head, eyes staring up at Drew.

The way his pupils dilated more, that gorgeous blue swirling into a deep sea color. Fuck. You were both ruined.

He immediately connected your lips back to his, both your minds a state of pure need. But before anything else could happen--

"Cut!"

The word "cut" was starting to become your least favorite thing in the entire world. Drew pulled back, still hovering over you.

You finally let your eyes drift down to his bare torso, seeing those abs for the first time in person. But he wasn't the only one.

He tried so hard not to look, to be a gentleman, to be professional. But he felt his gaze slip down to you lying there in your bra, his mouth growing a little wetter.

"Y/n, spread your legs and let Drew lay in between them. When we say action, Drew start thrusting your hips as if you two are having sex. We'll keep the birds-eye view so it gives off the appearance that you two actually are."

As the director gives his next instructions, a set designer fixes the sheet to rest around Drew's hips, covering up the fact that you are both still wearing pants.

All you and Drew could do was nod. It wasn't really safe to speak, not when the sexual tension and chemistry between you two was so high.

Drew had filmed sex scenes before, it was a part of his job. But fuck. You were driving him insane, and you were barely even speaking.

You spread your legs as Drew shifted closer to you, trying to look anywhere but at your chest and face.

"Three, two, one... action!"

Call me in the morning, beg me in the night, I'll be over safely if you need it anytime

I'm picturing you right now, with nothing on, with nothing on but my perfume

He had begun to softly move his hips, his mouth instinctively attaching to your jaw, kissing down to your neck. Your hands dug into his broad shoulders and back, trying desperately not to let out a real moan.

Your eyes were fluttered shut, legs tightening a little more around him. There was no real pleasure being shared, but both your bodies were on autopilot, as if you were actually having sex.

It was the hottest either of you had ever felt.

The day continued on, with both you and Drew filming more romantic scenes. It was very surreal that this was all pretend because, at some points, it felt real.

The last scene was finally shot and everyone cheered with applause, happy the hard work and long day is over.

You were changing out of your film clothes and back into the sweatpants and hoodie you wore to set at six am this morning.

Drew had also changed, putting on his jeans and jacket.

You were going around and sincerely thanking every single person for their contribution and hard work, the last person finally being Drew.

Your eyes locked onto each other, a small smile creeping onto both your faces.

"Thank you so much, Drew, seriously. I couldn't have done this without you," you told him.

Drew shrugged nonchalantly, but he seemed a little sheepish at your genuine words.

"No, thank you. I had a lot of fun today, you were a lot of fun to film with." Drew replies, a warm look in his gaze.

He pulled you into another hug, your face pressed into him, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

"I hope this isn't the last time you see me," Drew murmurs in your ear.

Goosebumps erupted all over your skin, the moment reeling in your mind as you thought about when he hugged you and murmured how much he loved your song on Jimmy Fallon.

"It won't be, I promise."

You finally pulled away, a little reluctantly. You didn't wanna scare him off by holding him for too long.

"I'll eventually send you photo stills and snippets to post for promotion, but I don't want you to feel like you have to post anything or a shit-ton of stuff. I know you're busy," you tell him.

Drew shook his head. "Nah, I'll post them. Promise."

You nodded softly, a little grin on your face.

"Alright, Y/n. I'll see you around," Drew hums.

You watched as he walked away, a warm feeling in your chest.

You had finally returned home after the long day. After showering, changing into pajamas, and feeding yourself, you slide into your warm bed.

Grabbing your phone from the nightstand, your heart jumped when you read one Instagram notification in particular.

@/drewstarkey has messaged you

You quickly opened the notification, a smile on your face.

Drew Starkey: Just wanted to thank you again for the opportunity today. Had more fun than I should have

Your User: Ofc!! Maybe when the music video drops we can celebrate together :3

Fuck. Your thumb pressed send before you could double-think that message.

Drew Starkey: I like the sound of that

Oh.

tags!!

@slut4you @sweetlike-sugarplum @snowtargaryen @fastlovela @christinechickiee @ahgrace6 @evermorx89 @loren8818181 @eddiemuns0nl0ver @sophiesmovingcastle5 @chimchimjiminie16 @amel1ee @reader1402 @tqd4455 @rxeae @caraxes-syrax @shrimpybbq @drewstarkeysbabe @rafeswhoooreee @meropeeonmee @rafeluvrr @marvelahsobx @raeven-marie43 @fallout-girl219 @brendazzlingg @10ava01 @secretsideofbree @drewstarrrkey @p0gue420 @gibson-g1rl @kiiyomei @spiderstyles04 @sexualparkour @vinaluvsu @domainexpandme @mariadu2 @toterry @taliawz @always-reading @angvl3tears @iloveoldermenn @aesthetic-lyss @lover-girl-estxx @cadhlabear

[thepencilnerd]

Feels Like Trouble

pairing: Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x F!Doctor!Reader summary: You and Robby have been secretly dating for a while now. Most of the ER is clueless—except the five people who could probably write dissertations on your dynamic. Enter a frat boy med student with too much confidence and not enough self-awareness. Robby? Jealous. You? Oblivious. Everyone else? Watching the drama unfold like it's peak primetime television. warnings: cringe flirting, depiction of boundary-pushing behavior, mutual pining, protective!Robby genre: fluff, slow burn, banter, crack vibes, emotional constipation, robbie's love language is acts of service, strong!reader energy because women run the world word count: 6.3k a/n: robby in his protective, simmering, quietly feral era + men anticipating my needs without me having to ask is my roman empire. p.s. also check out my other Dr. Robby fics (Not Enough | And Through It All) if you're interested <3

It started at the nurses’ station.

You were finishing up notes from a back-to-back shift, hair a mess, sleeves rolled, running purely on caffeine and spite. You barely registered the med student who leaned in a little too close—Jackson, of course. Jackson, who everyone knew had barely scraped through med school with a transcript that looked like a cry for help and a reputation for quoting his frat days like gospel. Jackson, who thought calling women 'Doc' in a tone meant to charm was somehow endearing. So, yeah. Not a great dude, to say the absolute least.

"Hey, Dr. L/N," Jackson said with that ever-present grin, leaning just a little too close. "You, uh... ever take pity on exhausted interns and grab a drink after shift?"

You gave a polite smile. "I’m not really a spirits person, but thanks."

Jackson blinked. "Huh?"

"You said drink, right? I’m more of a coffee or tea girl. Caffeine over cocktails."

He opened his mouth like he was going to try again, but you were already turning back to your chart.

"Good luck today!" you said cheerfully, not noticing the groan from your colleagues. Just around the corner, Mateo muttered to Javadi, "That’s the fourth time this week. It’s painful, man."

Javadi sipped her carton of apple juice with focused precision, attention directed solely on your ability to brush off such obvious advances without it getting in the way of your work. "Seventh, actually. If you count the half-made attempt on Monday. She's bulletproof."

"Try Jackson-proof," Mateo scoffed.

Two beds down, King leaned over to Langdon with her gloved hands clasped and asked, "Why does Jackson keep hovering around Dr. L/N like a... rabid mosquito?"

Langdon just smiled knowingly, looking over to the nurses' station where the man of the hour sat. "Don’t worry. Robby'll take care of it. Eventually."

Unbeknownst to you, Robby had been watching the entire interaction—and every interaction before that. If any med student so much as breathed near you with less-than-pure intentions, he was up in arms, ready to intervene at a moment's notice.

There was that time Whitaker nearly took your eye out when a patient came in with a nail embedded in his femur; the force of pulling it out snapped Whitaker’s elbow backward—only for Robby's hand to catch it mid-swing before it could clock you in the face. Or when Santos nearly sliced your finger open as you gently guided her through her first incision—Robby had materialized behind her in the span of a gasp, steadying her hands with a calm correction that masked sheer panic. Or when Javadi passed out for the second time during a gnarly pelvic realignment and collapsed straight into you, nearly giving you a concussion from her deadweight—Robby had been there then, too, catching you both with lightning reflexes and barely concealed fury.

At this point, the only person in the hospital who hadn’t triggered Robby’s internal security system was Mel. And that was only because she kept a respectful three-foot radius and shared snacks with you during breaks. The two of you had a quiet little tradition—inviting her out to try the new cat café when it opened downtown, or attending weekend adoption events together like it was a team-building exercise. Langdon once joked that she was the third wheel in the most wholesome slow-burn romcom he'd ever seen. Mel's only response was two blinks and a single nod of acknowledgement.

Everyone in the ER noticed your dynamic—the way you and Robby worked together like a well-oiled machine, never needing to speak aloud to know what the other needed. It was intuitive. Rhythmic. Like watching a dance you’d been rehearsing for years.

Still, only a handful of people actually knew about your relationship. Abbot, Collins, McKay, Dana, Langdon, and Mel.

Abbot had been Robby’s sounding board from the very beginning. Back when Robby was still pacing around the break room, torn between professionalism and the undeniable, slow-burning pull he felt toward you, it was Abbot who told him to get over himself and ask you out. Life was too short for regrets.

Collins, McKay, and Dana didn’t know officially—but they knew. The meaningful glances, the subtle handoffs of coffee, the shared silences that were too loaded to be casual. They never said a word because they lived for the soap-opera-worthy drama of it all.

Langdon and Mel were on the same wavelength. They hadn’t caught you red-handed, but their spidey senses were borderline clairvoyant. They never probed, never asked. Just watched it unfold like a plotline they already knew the ending to.

Besides them, the rest of the department remained blissfully unaware—except for the way Robby’s entire demeanor shifted over a year ago. A quiet warmth started to replace his usual stoicism. People credited it to the anonymous private donation made to the ER around the same time.

But the truth was, it had nothing to do with money.

It was you. 

You, of course, were oblivious to whatever other people thought or said—unless it had something to do with your patients. Robby sometimes joked that you were pathologically unbothered, something he made a mental note to ask you about, and he wasn’t wrong. The rumors from the nurses, the looks from the interns, the knowing smirks from Dana or Langdon? All of it flew over your head like air traffic.

Maybe you just didn’t see it. Didn’t see how Robby’s entire world seemed to tilt when you entered a room. How effortlessly the two of you moved in sync like second nature—side by side in trauma bays, tossing instruments, treatment plans, and glances back and forth like muscle memory. Everyone else could see it.

You were always focused on the next decision, the next step, the next person who needed your help. You didn’t think about what you needed until the shift was over—if ever. Your well-being came last, always.

But not to Robby. Never to Robby.

He noticed everything.

The slump in your shoulders. The faint crease in your forehead when a headache was starting to set in. He knew when you were on the verge of running on empty, when your patience was thinning, when you hadn’t eaten since sunrise. He never made a show of it. He just acted.

He didn’t wait for you to ask. He didn’t expect you to remember to need anything.

Because he already knew. He just... knew.

Your coffee, brewed and sweetened exactly how you liked it, would be waiting for you at the nurses’ station first thing in the morning. A second cup at lunch—always packed, always hot, even if you never had time to drink it. He’d drop it off like it was routine, like it was no big deal, because he knew the odds of you being pulled into another case mid-sip were astronomical.

Your favorite sandwich from the cafeteria, left quietly on your desk with a sticky note that said, “Eat this or I’m calling your mother.” You'd sooner pass out from hunger than remember to eat. He knew that. So he took the thinking out of it for you.

And after the longest days—those days where you'd made a thousand decisions, answered a hundred questions, led back-to-back codes—he’d cook dinner at his place. Quietly, without fanfare, and pieced together with the same kind of intention you gave your patients. He’d hand you a glass of water—because that was one other thing that you along with 80% of the population deprived yourself of—and steer you to the couch while he handled the rest. Just so you could turn your brain off.

You never asked, never had to, yet he always knew.

You’d just been snapped back to the present by the sound of an unwelcome familiar voice—again.

"Dr. L/N," he said, sidling up to you again with that same confident grin—clearly not deterred by every failed attempt before. "I’ve got a list of mocktails that might just change your mind. Pretty creative, right? I googled it during lunch. There’s this one with lychee and—"

You blinked at him slowly, like you were buffering.

"Jackson," you said, voice firmer this time, "I don’t even have time to finish a protein bar most days, let alone entertain another pitch for drinks. You’re taking time away from my patients, my patients. I sincerely hope you don’t treat them the same way—ignoring their boundaries and refusing to take no for an answer."

You didn’t say it harshly. Just plainly. Clearly and finite. Like a diagnosis that needed no follow-up.

Across the room, Robby pulled down his glasses as his lip quirked up into a slow, private smirk. Pride bloomed across his face so fast he had to duck his head behind a chart to hide it. He knew better than to coddle you. The mutual discomfort and stifled reactions from the staff were one thing. Watching you handle yourself like that? That was something else entirely.

From across the nurses’ station, the staff collectively cringed like someone had just dropped a post-op surgical tray. Santos and Mateo physically turned away to hide their budding laughter. Javadi buried her face in her sleeve, secondhand embarrassment blooming. Mohan took off at a brisk pace to see a patient. Whitaker closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer to the ceiling. Meanwhile, Dana, McKay, and Collins couldn’t look away if they tried, pressing down their grins and wishing they'd brought popcorn. Langdon sipped his coffee like it was a box-office premiere. King, ever diligent, kept her focus on irrigating her patient’s wound—Langdon would fill her in later with full commentary. Before you could continue—

"Dr. L/N," your savior called, tone light but cutting through the air like a scalpel—just loud enough to interrupt whatever nonsense Jackson was about to say next.

You turned and there he was.

Dr. Robby—your chaos compass, your caffeinated partner in crime, loyal boyfriend, favorite soon-to-be roommate, and at the moment, your very composed but unmistakably irritated attending—his expression perfectly calm to the untrained eye, but you could read the tension in every line of his face.

"Got a case," he said flatly. "Now. Come on."

You blinked, confused but relieved. "Okay."

You didn’t miss the way Jackson shrank a little at Robby’s tone, nor the way Langdon grinned over his coffee like he'd just won a bet. You caught up to him by the supply closet, where he all but dragged you inside and shut the door behind you.

"What's up?" you asked, eyebrow raised.

He stared at you, a little too intently, like he wasn’t sure whether to scold you or wrap you in bubble wrap. "Are you seriously asking me that after that guy just tried to chat you up in the middle of the ER like this is Grey’s Anatomy?"

You blinked, tilting your head. "Wait… was that flirting?"

Robby blinked back. "You’re joking."

You were. "I thought he just wanted to split an energy drink or something."

He huffed a quiet laugh, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders as his hands came up to ruffle his hair. "Jesus."

You poked his chest lightly. "You’re kind of cute when you’re flustered, you know that?"

His ears went red immediately. "I’m not flustered. I’m... professionally annoyed."

You blinked. "You’re jealous?"

"I’m not jealous," he said tightly. "I’m—concerned."

You grinned, stepping close. "Concerned is hot."

"He was twelve."

"He's definitely at least twenty-six."

Robby exhaled through his nose. "I’ve been very chill about this whole 'let’s not tell the hospital we’re dating' thing. But if I see him so much as come within two feet of you again, I’m submitting a formal notice that you are very much taken and a complaint with HR about his behavior. And if that doesn’t work—" he leaned in closer, voice dropping—"I’m dealing with him myself."

You raised an eyebrow, lips twitching into a smirk. "What’s that going to look like—are you gonna slam your clipboard down and tag team him with Abbot? Because honestly, I wouldn’t hate that."

Your voice was teasing, but your cheeks were warm. Watching Robby get territorial from a respectful distance? Unexpectedly hot. And now, you couldn’t help but push his buttons to see how much more riled up he’d get.

He didn’t answer. Just leaned in slowly, deliberately, raising both of his arms to cage you in—palms flat against the wall on either side of your head. The move sent heat straight to your cheeks, blinking up at him as he leaned closer, so close his breath brushed your lips.

Then he kissed you—hard and fast and possessive, his hands sliding up into your hair, threading through it with the kind of reverence that made your knees go weak. You gasped softly into his mouth, one hand instinctively rising to cup his jaw, your fingers grazing the edge of his beard before curling into the softness of it. He leaned into your touch, like he’d been waiting for it all day.

Your other hand slid up into his hair, tugging gently at the strands at the nape of his neck, and you felt it—the way his pulse thrummed just beneath your fingertips, the way he shivered just slightly at your touch.

His thumbs caressed the line of your jaw, then drifted down to the curve of your neck, holding you like you might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

It was fire and softness, urgency wrapped in warmth. And you never wanted to stop.

When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. "Is that allowed in a supply closet?" you smirked. 

"If they didn’t want people kissing in here, they wouldn’t make it this conveniently located."

You smacked his arm, giggling.

"I’m serious," he added, voice softening but maintaining a firm undertone. "I don't share."

You looped your arms around his neck. "Good. I wasn’t offering."

He grinned, still close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. "That thing you said back there—about boundaries, about respect." He paused, eyes scanning yours. "That was... incredible. Seriously. You handled it perfectly."

Your brows furrowed for a moment, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice.

"It was... commanding," he added a moment later, voice lower, more playful now. "Alluringly so."

You snorted. "You're ridiculous."

"Yeah," he agreed, pulling you closer to pepper your face with kisses. "Ridiculously in love with a woman who knows exactly how to shut down frat boys without breaking stride, resuscitate half the ER, deliver excellent patient care, and still make rounds on time."

His hand slid down your back, warm and steady. "You’re the whole damn package, you know that? It’s genuinely unfair."

You chuckled, burying your face briefly in his shoulder.

Somewhere down the hall, Dana's voice rang echoed through the PA, summoning you for the consult. Robby groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

"This is not over," he muttered.

You kissed the corner of his mouth, a smirk following soon after where your lips lingered. "Got any dinner plans?"

Robby raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Actually, yeah. I’ve got a date—with my incredibly beautiful, breathtaking, beyond intelligent, and painfully witty girlfriend."

You blinked at him, then laughed, delighted. "Wow. Sounds like a catch."

He leaned in and bumped his nose against yours, grinning. "She really is. And I think she’s about to say yes."

You didn’t say anything at first. Just smiled, so full of affection it made your cheeks ache. Then you nodded, brushing your thumb gently along his cheekbone.

"Yeah," you whispered, "she definitely is."