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heavyhitterheaux · 5 hours ago

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40-22

See Me Through You Fic

Synopsis: You and your husband watch the Super Bowl along with your best friends in NOLA

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😘💕

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Seeing as Joe was doing a press run the week leading up to the Super Bowl in New Orleans, you decided that the two of you should have a party for it at your new house that Joe had surprised you with as a Christmas gift. A party that would literally only be your best friends, but still a party nonetheless. He had noticed that you were missing being in Louisiana more than usual and it had actually been in the works for him to buy it since the beginning of last year.

In order to get your input without actually telling you about it, he would show you different pictures that the designer was sending Joe and as soon as you had given him the approval, everything was a go.

This was your first time actually seeing the house in person and you immediately fell in love. There was a hallway leading to what would be considered the man cave of the house and the walls were decorated with pictures of both you and Joe at your time at LSU. Seeing this definitely made a few tears slip out that you of course blamed on your hormones being all over the place.

Ja'Marr and Justin of course wanted to see the house and essentially invited themselves over, even though they were going to be invited anyway. You had sent a quick text to Erin and Alisha to see if they were free and they of course said yes to be able to spend time with you.

Joe told you that he could order food so that the two of you didn't have to cook and he didn't want you to be on your feet for a long period of time.

Of course he was met with resistance from you since cooking was one of your many love languages the last thing he wanted was an argument to come out of it. He knew once you made up your mind about something that it was the end of the conversation. But if it was something that he was dead set on not letting go, he had no problem letting you know how he felt. But for now, he would just help you with what you decided to make and make sure you got breaks in between.

As you were making your famous chili cheese dip that you knew was going to go in less than ten minutes, Joe had just finished seasoning the wings and was about to put them in the oven.

He had come up behind you and wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on top of your head.

“You okay? And are my other two babies okay?” He asked and you nodded your head.

“Yes, babe. I told you that I'm fine. And they're fine too.” You replied and gave him a small smile before he gently moved you to the side to open the oven.

“As soon as we're done, you need to sit down and put your feet up so they don't swell.”

“Yes, Doctor Burrow.”

“Princess, I'm serious.”

“I know, I know and I promise I will. Just have one more thing to make and then I'll sit.” You replied as you reached up to kiss him.

“What else do you need help with so I can make this go faster?”

“They’re just cheesesteak sliders, but if you can start cutting up everything that would be helpful.”

“On it.”

When all of the food was done, Justin was already in the kitchen so you told him to come and get his plate so that way you could sit down yourself.

“Justin, it’s hot on the bottom, take the sides of it.” You told him as he was reaching for it.

“Uh huh.” He replied as he was still looking at the television and not at you.

“Don't touch the bottom. It's hot, move your hand away from it.”

Justin once again nodded and you decided since he wasn’t going to listen to just let him learn the hard way.

“Ow! DAMN, THAT’S HOT.”

“I know and I told your stupid ass two times not to touch the bottom, but you were so interested in looking at the TV instead. And you better not break my damn plate either.”

“Joe! Your wife was nicer before you got her pregnant!” Justin yelled towards him and Joe looked at him confused.

“Says who!?” Ja’Marr asked as he immediately chimed in and you gave them both a death glare.

“No, Justin, you just like to do stupid shit.” Joe shot back and Ja'Marr stifled a laugh.

“Next time I'm not cooking shit for yall. I can't even see my damn feet and they're probably swollen and I'm stressed because I'll have to probably call 911 messing with both of you. Justin, take this plate and get out my face. IMMEDIATELY.”

“But we didn't ask you to cook since I…”

“Ja’Marr keep talking and I'm going to make sure the next time I cook for you will be at your funeral.”

Ja’Marr immediately threw his hands up in defense as you went to sit down while everyone fixed their plate.

“Damn that food is about to be good as shit. Baby, can I request meatballs?” Joe asked you and you stifled a laugh.

“SERIOUSLY?” Ja’Marr asked Joe as he shrugged.

“No, Joe you got it backwards. It's funeral chicken and baby shower meatballs.” Erin told him while laughing and Ja’Marr made a face at her.

“Not you encouraging his nonsense….”

“Well Erin come through with the meatballs for our baby shower.” Joe told her and she quickly agreed.

“All you had to do was say the word. Consider it done.”

“So, no one is going to mention how my twin is planning my funeral?” Ja’Marr asked the entire room and everyone gave him a blank stare.

“No.” Everyone replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.

“She’s older and she's pregnant? Yeah, not getting into that one.”

“Some friends yall are.”

The game was just starting and Joe told you to sit down while he fixed your plate for you. He made sure you were comfortable with your multiple pregnancy pillows and put your feet up for you.

“The Eagles have one damn job and if they don't come through, I will RIOT.” Alisha said as she sat to the left of you while Erin was on your right.

“You and me both.” You told her as you turned up the volume.

It was during the second quarter when you suddenly got bored. The Chiefs were playing like they had never seen a football before in their lives and you honestly couldn't believe what you were seeing.

“Are they really serious right now?” Justin said out loud and in disbelief.

“Apparently they are.”

“I told yall that they aren't as good as everyone thinks they are. Because they are playing like straight ass.” Alisha added and everyone couldn't help but to laugh.

“Jalen is cute.” Erin said and you gave her a small smirk.

“AHT! Princess, wipe that smirk off your face!” Joe said and you held your hands up in defense.

“But I…”

“Nope, don't even try it. I saw it.”

“I only have eyes for you and you know that! Last time I checked I am pregnant with YOUR children."

"Mm hmm. Sure."

"Such a big ass baby." You quietly said, but he still heard you.

"Want to repeat that Mrs. Burrow?"

"Nope, I'm good." You replied while taking a sip of your lemonade while both Erin and Alisha laughed.

“As I was saying before, Joe rudely interrupted. Have you seen the entire team!? It's a TRAIN. And I wouldn't get off until I had a taste of the entire roster.” Alisha exclaimed, and you couldn't help but to laugh.

"Alisha, I heard that." Joe said, and she held her hands up and acted as if she didn't know what he was talking about.

“You know that there's 52 people on the roster, right?” You asked her and she immediately nodded her head.

“Like I said before, it's a train.”

Joe was on his second plate of food and focused on the game when you decided to send him a text.

Wifey- Baby, I'm bored.

Joey- You don't want to watch the game?

Wifey- Yes, but at this point I want it to be halftime. But in the meantime could you do something for me?

Joey- Of course baby. What do you need?

Wifey- For you to put your dick inside me

As soon as Joe read the text, his eyes went wide and he glanced at you with a smirk on his face as he bit his lip.

Joey- We have seven minutes until halftime

Wifey- I'm not missing Kendrick so we have to do it now

Joey- Go upstairs and I need to teach you a lesson for having a smirk on your face about that quarterback who ISN’T me

Wifey- So dramatic as usual. Just like a Sagittarius. Smh.

Joey- Just you wait until I get you alone

Once you got up, Joe was following your lead and Ja’Marr suddenly made a face at both of you.

“Where yall going?”

"Just going to the bathroom." You told him, but looked at you confused.

"And taking your husband with you?"

"Look Ja’Marr! My whole body is swollen and I can't see past my boobs!" You exclaimed as you crossed your arms and continued walking towards the stars as Joe stifled a laugh.

“Those things are going to be Z cups by the time the twins get here.” Alisha said without hesitation.

"So, you don't know where your vagina is located anymore?"

“Ja'Marr, if your twin wants to get her cheeks clapped by her husband who has clearly done it multiple times before since she's pregnant, that's her business. That's obviously where they're going.” Erin told him and he made a gagging noise.

"Bam Bam, keep talking and I will choke you.”

“Wouldn't be the first time.”

"Unless you're volunteering to wipe my ass, baby brother. By all means, come on.”

“NO! I'm good!”

“That's what I thought and that's why you need to mind your damn business.”

“You're my twin so you are my business.”

By this time, you had reached the top step and rolled your eyes before you responded to him.

“Leave me alone, Ja'Marr!”

“Never going to happen!”

As you entered your bedroom, you were attempting to walk towards the bed before Joe tugged your arm in another direction.

“If I take you on the bed, you know for a fact we'll be up here for the rest of the game and you are entirely too loud. No offense, princess.”

“Hmm, good point. Bathroom it is. And if Ja’Marr would have minded his business we would have been up here sooner! We have like 4 minutes now.”

“Then stop talking and let me take care of my wife.” Joe told you as he leaned down to kiss you.

“You don't have to tell me twice.”

As you were coming down the steps, Erin was grinning and wiggling her eyebrows at you and you instantly laughed at her.

“Nasty ass fuckers. Couldn't have even waited until we left.”

“I seriously went to the bathroom, dumbass!” You replied as you took your rightful seat in between your best friends just in time to see Kendrick come on the screen when Alisha leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“I know that white boy be turning you every way but loose.”

You tried so hard to keep a straight face but failed miserably as Ja'Marr shot you a look.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“You'll never learn, will you?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the TV.

“Probably not. You know I'm nosey.”

“And no lie was told.”

It was now the third quarter when the Chiefs finally decided to score, which clearly still left everyone unimpressed.

“See that's what they asses get for making sure we didn't make it in the playoffs.” Ja’Marr muttered to your husband who quickly agreed with him.

“Look, I'm just happy that I don't have to look at Taylor Swift for four quarters.” Erin confessed with Alisha letting out a laugh.

“And her boyfriend has done absolutely nothing this entire game.” You added before getting up and sitting on Joe's lap.

You sat to the side so that you could put your head on his shoulder and your feet in Ja’Marr's lap who quickly protested.

“Why are these things on me?”

“So they don't swell. Help a pregnant lady out. And besides I fed you and you're in my house. And I just got a pedicure so leave me alone!”

“She has a point.” Joe said and he crossed his arms in response.

“My going rate for babysitting those two when they get here is 50 dollars. EACH.”

“BULLSHIT. We watch baby uno for FREE.” Joe exclaimed in response.

“Because he's a low maintenance baby! Yall kids are about to be spoiled as hell with big ass heads that look like Joe. That last sonogram picture was wild. Count on having a c-section.”

“HEY! MY HEAD IS NOT THAT BIG!”

“Keep telling yourself that, Shiesty.” Justin muttered and it took everything in you not to laugh. You turned away from Joe, but he could feel the vibration of your laugh since you were leaning against him.

“My own wife laughing about jokes about me, I see.”

“Um, pookie… have you seen your baby pictures? It's always been big.” You asked him and he turned up his nose.

“I…forget about that Birkin you wanted for Valentine’s Day.”

“Hold on! Wait! I take it back!”

“Nope. Damage is done. I'm sleeping in the guest room.”

“Okay Mr. Dramatic.”

“AYE! ANOTHER TOUCHDOWN!” Justin exclaimed as he raised his arms in excitement.

“Andy needs to whoop everybody's ass on that field.”

“I think the Eagles got him covered in that department.”

“No 3 peat is happening at this point.”

It was now the final seconds of the fourth quarter and it was now set in stone that the Eagles had won. They were interviewing Jalen when a thought popped up in your head.

"I can not believe they got their ass beat this bad. I feel like a curse has been lifted." Justin said, and you stifled a laugh.

“I expect everyone in this room that has an NFL contract to be in the super bowl next year. Do with that information what you will.” You said and all three of them looked at you.

“If the front office actually gets its shit together so we can keep everyone we need.” Joe said before rolling his eyes.

“Are we going to make bets? I think we should.”

“Sure when the regular season starts, but my husband needs to take me to Disney World after he wins. And Ja’Marr is on babysitting duty.”

“Fine, 250 dollars an hour. EACH.”

"You must be out of your damn mind." Joe told him in response as he looked at him in disbelief while you were laughing.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow fanfiction #joe shiesty #joey b #nfl imagine

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gottencents · 14 hours ago

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Casual PT.4 - Yu Jimin

part one. | part two. | part three.

pairing. mean girl!karina x star soccer player!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold. Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

The ride home from Karina’s parents’ house felt lighter than Y/N had anticipated. The lingering nerves from the evening had finally dissolved, replaced by a warm sense of belonging. Karina hummed softly along with the radio as she drove, her hand resting comfortably on Y/N’s thigh.

“You were perfect,” Karina said, breaking the peaceful silence. “I knew they’d love you.”

Y/N chuckled, leaning back in her seat. “You think? I was sure I said at least three awkward things.”

“You were charming,” Karina reassured her. “Even when you nearly knocked over the water pitcher.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face. “I was hoping we could forget that.”

“Never,” Karina teased, her eyes glinting with mischief. “It was adorable.”

As the car pulled into Y/N’s building, Karina parked and turned toward her, her expression softening. “I’m really proud of you. I know tonight wasn’t easy.”

Y/N nodded, feeling the weight of Karina’s words. “Thanks. It actually felt… nice. I liked seeing that side of your life.”

“You’ll be seeing more of it,” Karina promised, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “You’re stuck with me now.”

Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering at the intimacy of the moment. “I guess I can live with that.”

They lingered for a second longer before Y/N reluctantly opened the car door. Karina followed her out, walking her to the entrance of the building. The air was crisp, the quiet hum of the city night wrapping around them like a soft blanket.

Just as Y/N was about to say goodnight, Karina’s phone buzzed. She glanced at it, her brow furrowing slightly.

“Everything okay?” Y/N asked.

Karina hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. It’s just work stuff. I’ll handle it later.”

Y/N raised a brow. “You sure? You can take it if it’s urgent.”

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” Karina said quickly, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

Y/N studied her for a moment, sensing something just beneath the surface. But before she could press further, Karina leaned in, capturing Y/N’s lips in a slow, lingering kiss that left no room for questions.

“Goodnight, baby,” Karina whispered against her lips.

“Goodnight,” Y/N replied, her voice barely audible.

She watched Karina walk back to her car, her heart full yet tinged with curiosity. Something about that text felt… off. But she trusted Karina, and if it was important, she’d tell her in time.

The next few days felt normal—almost too normal. They kept up their usual routine: meeting for coffee, texting late into the night, and sharing quiet moments in between classes. But every now and then, Y/N noticed that faraway look in Karina’s eyes, like her mind was somewhere else entirely.

It wasn’t until Friday evening that things started to unravel.

Y/N had invited Karina over for dinner, wanting to spend a quiet night together after a busy week. She was just finishing up cooking when there was a knock on the door. Karina walked in, her expression more tense than usual.

“Hey,” Y/N greeted, wiping her hands on a towel. “Everything okay?”

Karina forced a smile. “Yeah. Just a long day.”

Y/N frowned. “Are you sure? You’ve been a little distracted lately.”

Karina hesitated, her eyes darting away for a brief moment. “It’s just work stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the counter. “Karina… you know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

Karina let out a breath, running a hand through her hair. “I know. I just—” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “It’s not that simple.”

Y/N stepped closer, gently taking Karina’s hands in hers. “It doesn’t have to be simple. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

Karina looked at her, conflict swirling in her eyes. “There’s just… a lot going on right now. Work, family stuff—it’s all piling up. I didn’t want to dump it on you.”

Y/N’s grip tightened. “You’re not dumping anything on me. We’re in this together, remember?”

Karina exhaled, her shoulders relaxing just a little. “I know. I’m sorry if I’ve been distant. It’s just been hard to juggle everything lately.”

Y/N nodded, brushing her thumb over Karina’s knuckles. “We’ll get through it. One step at a time.”

For the first time in days, Karina’s smile felt real, not forced. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“You bribed me with coffee,” Y/N said with a playful grin.

Karina laughed softly, the tension in the room finally breaking. “Ah, right. My greatest strategy.”

They settled into dinner, the heaviness of the past few days slowly fading into the background. But even as they laughed and talked, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something bigger.

And she was ready—whatever it was, she wasn’t going anywhere.

The weekend passed in a blur, but something about Karina still felt… distant. Y/N tried to shake the thought, telling herself that Karina was just stressed. After all, life could get overwhelming sometimes. It didn’t mean anything deeper was wrong.

Still, the feeling lingered, gnawing at her in the quiet moments.

By Monday, the tension between them was subtle but undeniable. Karina seemed present but distracted, and Y/N could feel herself slipping into her own head, overthinking every little thing. That evening, they had plans to grab dinner at a casual restaurant near campus, but the energy between them was noticeably off.

The restaurant buzzed with life—clinking glasses, laughter, and the smell of fresh food—but Y/N felt like she and Karina were in a bubble of silence.

“You okay?” Y/N asked as they waited for their food, her voice careful but steady.

Karina glanced up from her phone, forcing a small smile. “Yeah, why?”

“You just seem… elsewhere lately,” Y/N said, trying not to sound accusatory. “I’m starting to wonder if something’s wrong and you’re not telling me.”

Karina sighed, placing her phone facedown on the table. “It’s not like that. I’m just handling a lot right now. I didn’t want it to spill over into us.”

“But it is,” Y/N said gently. “You don’t have to go through things alone, Karina. I’m right here. If something’s bothering you, I want to know.”

Karina tapped her fingers on the table, eyes flickering with hesitation. “It’s work,” she admitted. “There’s a project I’m involved in, and it’s complicated. There’s pressure from my team, and I feel like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough.”

Y/N relaxed slightly, relieved that Karina was finally opening up. “Why didn’t you just tell me that from the start?”

“I didn’t want to drag you into my stress,” Karina confessed. “I know you’ve got enough on your plate. The last thing I want is to weigh you down.”

“You’re not weighing me down,” Y/N said firmly. “Relationships are about sharing the load, right? If something’s heavy, we carry it together.”

Karina’s eyes softened, her expression a mix of gratitude and relief. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not easy,” Y/N said with a small laugh. “But you’re worth the effort.”

Their conversation was interrupted when the waiter set their plates down, and the tension seemed to lighten a little more as they dug into their food. Y/N felt like they’d taken a step forward, but she couldn’t help but notice that Karina’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Later that night, Y/N lay in bed, staring at her ceiling. The conversation had gone well—or at least, it had felt like progress—but she still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more Karina wasn’t saying. Something deeper.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling her out of her thoughts. She grabbed it, smiling softly when she saw Karina’s name on the screen.

Karina: Thank you for tonight. I really needed that.

Y/N: Always. You know I’m here, right? No matter what.

Karina: I know. Sleep well, baby.

Y/N placed her phone back on the nightstand, her heart warm but still slightly uneasy.

She trusted Karina. But trust didn’t always silence the questions.

The next day, Y/N was on her way to meet Karina for coffee when she spotted her standing outside the café… talking to a tall, sharply dressed woman Y/N didn’t recognize. The woman was leaning in close, her hand resting lightly on Karina’s arm as they spoke in hushed tones.

Y/N’s steps slowed, her stomach twisting.

Who was that?

Karina didn’t notice her at first, too engrossed in the conversation. The woman said something that made Karina laugh—a soft, genuine laugh Y/N hadn’t heard in days.

Y/N cleared her throat as she approached, trying to shake off the sudden spike of jealousy rising in her chest.

“Hey,” she greeted, keeping her voice casual.

Karina’s eyes snapped to her, surprise flashing across her face. “Y/N! Hey, I was just—”

The woman beside her turned, offering Y/N a polite smile. “You must be Y/N. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Y/N nodded slowly, studying her. “And you are…?”

“Yujin,” the woman said, extending her hand. “I work with Karina.”

Y/N shook her hand, her smile tight. “Nice to meet you.”

Karina shifted on her feet, her eyes darting between Y/N and Yujin. “Yujin was just filling me in on some project updates. Nothing major.”

“Right,” Yujin said with a chuckle. “Nothing major.”

Y/N didn’t miss the way Yujin’s gaze lingered on Karina for a second too long.

“Well, I’ll let you two catch up,” Yujin said, giving Karina a knowing smile before walking off. “See you tomorrow.”

Y/N watched her leave, her chest tightening.

“She seems… friendly,” Y/N said, her tone carefully neutral.

Karina rubbed the back of her neck. “Yeah, she’s… helpful. We’ve been working closely on this project. She’s just really involved, that’s all.”

Y/N nodded, trying to push down the doubt bubbling inside her. “Right.”

Karina reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hey. Don’t overthink it, okay? There’s nothing to worry about.”

Y/N smiled faintly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

“I’m not worried,” she said softly. But deep down, she wasn’t sure she believed it.

As they walked into the café together, Y/N tried to shake the feeling that something was shifting between them—something she couldn’t quite put her finger on yet.

But one thing was certain: cracks were beginning to form. And sooner or later, those cracks would have to be confronted.

Y/N woke up the next morning feeling heavy, the previous day’s encounter with Yujin replaying over and over in her mind. She tried to dismiss it, telling herself that it was silly to be jealous. Karina had been nothing but honest with her. And yet… something about Yujin didn’t sit right. It wasn’t what was said—it was what wasn’t.

All morning, Y/N’s thoughts lingered on that smile Yujin had given Karina, the familiarity between them. It felt like she was standing on shaky ground, waiting for the cracks beneath her feet to widen.

By the time she met up with Karina for lunch, she’d decided that she needed to talk about it. Not in an accusatory way—just… clear the air.

Karina was already sitting at their usual table in the campus café, scrolling through her phone. When she saw Y/N approach, her face lit up with that familiar smile that had once been enough to calm all of Y/N’s worries.

But not today.

“Hey, you,” Karina greeted, standing to give Y/N a quick hug.

“Hey,” Y/N said, hugging her back before sitting across from her.

They ordered their food, chatting idly about their morning classes, but Y/N could barely focus. The tension in her chest was building, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to push it aside for much longer.

Finally, she took a deep breath. “Karina… can I ask you something?”

Karina set her fork down, tilting her head slightly. “Of course. What’s up?”

“It’s about Yujin,” Y/N said carefully. “I know you said you’ve been working closely with her, but… is there something I should know?”

Karina blinked, her expression unreadable for a moment before she leaned back in her chair. “What do you mean?”

Y/N hesitated. “It’s just… the way she looked at you yesterday. It felt a little more personal than just work. And you seemed caught off guard when I showed up.”

Karina sighed, crossing her arms. “Y/N, there’s nothing going on between me and Yujin. She’s just a colleague. We’ve spent a lot of time together because of this project, and I guess we’ve gotten… close. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to absorb her words. “I’m not accusing you of anything. I trust you. It’s just… I’ve seen how people can blur lines when they work together. I guess it made me feel a little insecure.”

Karina leaned forward, resting her hand on Y/N’s. “You have nothing to be insecure about. Yujin is a great coworker, but that’s all she is. You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I care about.”

Y/N felt her chest loosen at Karina’s words, but a small part of her still clung to that lingering doubt.

“I believe you,” Y/N said, squeezing Karina’s hand. “I just needed to hear it from you.”

Karina smiled softly. “I get it. And I’ll do better at making sure you feel secure. We’re in this together, okay?”

Y/N nodded, a smile creeping onto her lips. “Okay.”

The following week felt lighter, like they’d turned a corner. Karina was more attentive, texting Y/N throughout the day, making time for little moments just for the two of them. It was exactly what Y/N needed—a reminder that their relationship was strong, built on something real.

But then, one evening, while Y/N was studying in the library, her phone buzzed with a text.

Yujin: Hey, are you free? I need to talk to you about something important.

Y/N froze, staring at the message. Why would Yujin be texting her? They barely knew each other.

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she finally replied.

Y/N: Sure. What’s up?

Yujin: Can we meet in person? It’s better if we talk face to face.

Y/N’s heart started to race. Something told her that whatever Yujin had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.

Y/N: Okay. Where do you want to meet?

Yujin: The coffee shop on 5th. See you in 20 minutes.

Y/N grabbed her things, her mind spinning with possibilities. What could Yujin possibly want to talk about?

As she walked to the coffee shop, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a turning point—one that could change everything.

When she arrived, Yujin was already there, sitting at a table near the window. She looked up as Y/N walked in, offering a small, almost hesitant smile.

“Thanks for coming,” Yujin said as Y/N sat down across from her.

“Of course,” Y/N said, folding her hands on the table. “What’s going on?”

Yujin took a deep breath, her eyes serious. “I didn’t want to get involved, but… I think you deserve to know the truth about Karina and me.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold.

“What truth?”

Yujin leaned in slightly, her voice low. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together—too much time. And I think… Karina might have feelings for me.”

The words hit Y/N like a punch to the gut.

“She hasn’t said it outright,” Yujin continued, “but the way she looks at me, the way she confides in me… it’s more than just friendship. I thought you should know before it gets any more complicated.”

Y/N sat there, stunned into silence. Her mind screamed that it wasn’t true, that Karina loved her, that Yujin was just reading into things.

But the doubt she’d buried deep inside was back, louder than ever.

“I thought you should know,” Yujin said again, her eyes filled with something that almost looked like pity.

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. “Thanks for telling me.”

She stood up, barely remembering how she got out of the coffee shop, her thoughts a chaotic mess.

Was it true?

Had she been blind to something that was right in front of her?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It was a text from Karina.

Karina: Miss you. Want to grab dinner later?

Y/N stared at the message, her heart aching. She had a choice to make—confront Karina or walk away without knowing the full story.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N wasn’t sure what the right choice was.

Y/N didn’t reply to Karina’s message. She couldn’t. The weight of Yujin’s words sat in her chest like a stone, suffocating and relentless. The walk back to her apartment felt longer than usual, her thoughts spiraling with questions she didn’t want to answer.

Was Yujin lying? Exaggerating? Or had Y/N truly been naive, ignoring what had been in front of her all along?

Her phone buzzed again. Another text from Karina.

Karina: Everything okay? You’ve been quiet.

Y/N stared at the screen, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. She could just brush it off, pretend everything was fine. But she couldn’t shake the echo of Yujin’s voice. “I think Karina might have feelings for me.”

Instead of replying, Y/N shoved her phone into her pocket and locked her door behind her, sinking onto the couch. Her mind played through every interaction Karina had ever had with Yujin, searching for signs—something she’d missed.

Her breath hitched. There were moments. Fleeting, almost insignificant, but in hindsight… they felt different now. The late nights Karina spent with Yujin at the library. The way Karina’s face lit up when Yujin walked into the room.

Y/N pressed her hands to her face, trying to push the thoughts away, but it was useless.

Hours passed, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting her apartment in shadows. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.

She needed answers.

Her fingers trembled as she typed out a message.

Y/N: Can we talk?

The response came almost immediately.

Karina: Of course. I’ll come over.

It didn’t take long for Karina to arrive. The moment Y/N opened the door, Karina’s face lit up with that familiar warmth. But Y/N couldn’t return the smile.

“Hey,” Karina said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “Is everything okay? You seem off.”

Y/N crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “I ran into Yujin today.”

Karina blinked, her smile fading. “Oh?”

“She said some interesting things.” Y/N’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that she couldn’t hide. “She told me I deserve to know the truth. About you and her.”

Karina’s eyes widened, her posture stiffening. “Y/N—”

“She said you might have feelings for her,” Y/N continued, cutting Karina off. “That the way you look at her, the way you confide in her… it’s more than just friendship.”

The silence that followed was suffocating.

Karina opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. That hesitation—that split second of silence—felt like confirmation.

Y/N’s heart broke a little more.

“Is it true?” Y/N asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Do you have feelings for her?”

“No,” Karina said quickly, stepping closer. “It’s not like that. Yujin’s misunderstanding everything. I care about her as a friend, but that’s all. I swear.”

“But she thinks it’s more,” Y/N said bitterly. “Why would she say that if there wasn’t something there? Even just a hint?”

Karina ran a hand through her hair, frustration evident on her face. “I don’t know. Maybe she misinterpreted our closeness. We’ve spent a lot of time together because of the project, but I never gave her a reason to think there was something more.”

Y/N felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

Karina’s face crumbled. “Y/N, please… you have to trust me. You’re the one I love. You’re the one I want to be with. Yujin is just a colleague—nothing more.”

“I want to believe you,” Y/N whispered, her voice cracking. “But right now… I don’t know how to.”

Karina reached for Y/N’s hand, but Y/N pulled back, stepping away. The distance between them felt like a chasm, one neither of them knew how to cross.

“I need some time,” Y/N said quietly. “I can’t think straight right now.”

Karina’s eyes filled with pain, but she nodded. “Okay. Take the time you need. But please… don’t shut me out completely.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She just opened the door, silently asking Karina to leave.

Karina hesitated for a moment, her eyes searching Y/N’s face, before stepping out into the hallway.

“I’m not giving up on us,” Karina said, her voice steady despite the sadness in her eyes. “No matter what.”

Y/N closed the door softly, leaning her forehead against it as soon as it clicked shut.

Her chest felt hollow, her mind a storm of conflicting emotions. She wanted to believe Karina. She wanted to forget Yujin’s words and pretend everything was fine.

But doubt had already taken root, and it wasn’t letting go.

For the first time in her relationship with Karina, Y/N felt like she was standing on the edge of something fragile, something that could break at any moment.

And she wasn’t sure if they would survive the fall.

The days that followed were filled with silence—long stretches of uncertainty that clung to Y/N like a second skin. She kept telling herself she needed time, space to think things through, but every passing minute felt like it was pulling her further from Karina.

Karina’s messages continued to light up her phone, each one more desperate than the last.

Karina: Can we talk?

Karina: Please, Y/N, just tell me what you’re thinking.

Karina: I miss you. I’m scared I’m losing you.

Y/N read each one but never responded. She wasn’t ready—not while Yujin’s voice still echoed in her mind.

Yujin wasn’t done either. Her manipulation was a slow, deliberate poison, seeping into every crack she could find. She played her part flawlessly, twisting the truth to her advantage.

She made sure to be around Karina constantly, using their project as the perfect excuse. She acted supportive, compassionate, always there to offer a shoulder to lean on when Karina seemed worn down.

“You okay?” Yujin asked one evening, sitting next to Karina in the campus lounge, their laptops open but forgotten.

Karina sighed, rubbing her eyes. “Not really. Things with Y/N… it’s complicated.”

Yujin tilted her head, her expression laced with feigned concern. “She hasn’t been talking to you?”

“Barely,” Karina admitted, her voice tight. “She said she needed time, but it’s been days. I don’t know what to do.”

Yujin bit her lip, pretending to hesitate. “Maybe she’s struggling with something deeper. Maybe she’s… scared it won’t work.” She paused for dramatic effect before adding, “Or maybe she’s worried because she feels like you’ve changed. Like… you’re not as sure about her anymore.”

Karina frowned. “Why would she think that?”

Yujin offered a small, apologetic smile. “She told me once she felt like she wasn’t enough for you. I think she’s been holding onto that fear. And with how much time we’ve been spending together… maybe she thinks you’re realizing it too.”

Karina’s eyes darkened with guilt. “No. That’s not true. Y/N’s everything to me. I’ve never doubted us.”

“I know,” Yujin said softly, placing a hand on Karina’s arm. “But sometimes, even when we don’t mean to, we give people reasons to doubt.”

The seed was planted—carefully buried in Karina’s mind, just as it had been in Y/N’s.

The next day, Yujin made sure to reach out to Y/N again.

Yujin: Hey, just checking in. I saw Karina today. She’s been really quiet lately. I think she’s struggling with what she wants.

Y/N: Did she say that?

Yujin: Not exactly… but it’s obvious. I think she’s trying to protect your feelings. She doesn’t want to hurt you.

Y/N’s hands trembled as she read the message. She didn’t know what to believe anymore. Yujin had a way of speaking that made every lie sound like the truth.

Her mind spiraled back to the conversation she had with Karina—the hesitation in Karina’s voice, the way she hadn’t immediately denied Yujin’s claim. Maybe Karina really was struggling with her feelings. Maybe Yujin wasn’t lying after all.

Hours later, Karina showed up at Y/N’s door unannounced. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with a raw mix of exhaustion and sadness.

“I couldn’t stay away,” Karina said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need to know where we stand.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her throat tightening. “Where do we stand, Karina? Because I don’t know anymore. You tell me one thing, and Yujin tells me something else. I feel like I’m being pulled in two different directions, and I don’t know which one to trust.”

Karina’s eyes flashed with anger. “Yujin’s lying to you.”

“Is she?” Y/N shot back, her voice sharp. “Because she seems pretty convinced that you’re unsure about us. That you’ve been confiding in her about things you can’t tell me.”

“I haven’t!” Karina’s frustration boiled over. “Yujin’s twisting everything. She’s manipulating you, Y/N. You’ve known me longer than her—how can you believe her over me?”

“Because I’m scared!” Y/N yelled, the words tearing from her throat. “I’m scared that there’s some truth in what she’s saying. I’m scared that you’ll wake up one day and realize she’s everything you want, and I’m just the person you settled for.”

Karina’s expression shattered, pain written all over her face. “No. No, Y/N, you’re the only person I’ve ever wanted. I love you.”

Y/N’s eyes stung with unshed tears. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing you?”

Karina stepped closer, her voice trembling. “You’re not losing me. But if we let Yujin get between us, if we let her lies destroy what we have, we’ll both lose. Please… trust me.”

Y/N wanted to. God, she wanted to believe Karina with everything she had. But the doubt was still there, a lingering shadow she couldn’t shake.

“I don’t know if I can,” Y/N whispered, her voice breaking. “Not right now.”

Karina nodded slowly, swallowing back her own tears. “Then I’ll wait. For as long as it takes. I’ll prove to you that what we have is real. That it’s worth fighting for.”

Y/N watched her go, the sound of the door closing echoing through the apartment like a final note in a tragic symphony.

She sank onto the couch, her heart in pieces. Part of her wanted to chase after Karina, to beg her to stay. But the other part—the part still poisoned by Yujin’s lies—held her back.

And in that moment, Y/N wasn’t sure which part would win.

The distance between Y/N and Karina grew like a canyon—too wide, too deep. Days turned into a blur of silence, and with each one that passed, Y/N felt the weight of everything they hadn’t said suffocating her.

Karina hadn’t messaged since their last conversation, and for once, Y/N was thankful. Every time her phone lit up, she half-expected to see Yujin’s name again, feeding her another dose of doubt. But it didn’t come. Not yet. The quiet was its own kind of torture.

Y/N walked around campus in a daze, pretending she was fine, but her chest felt heavy, and her head swirled with conflicting thoughts. Every corner she turned, she felt like she’d run into Karina—or worse, Karina and Yujin together.

When it finally happened, it hit harder than Y/N had imagined.

They were in the library, sitting side by side at a table near the window. Karina’s head was bent over her laptop, strands of her dark hair falling into her face. Yujin leaned in, close enough that their shoulders touched, saying something that made Karina smile faintly.

The sight twisted in Y/N’s stomach like a knife.

Before she could think it through, she walked toward them. Her footsteps felt heavier with every step, her heart slamming against her ribs.

“Karina,” Y/N said, her voice steady despite the storm in her chest.

Karina’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in surprise. “Y/N.”

Yujin leaned back casually, her gaze shifting between them. “Oh, hey, Y/N. You finally decided to join us.”

“Can we talk?” Y/N asked, ignoring Yujin.

Karina hesitated, glancing at Yujin. The pause was barely noticeable, but it sent a sharp pang through Y/N’s chest.

“Of course,” Karina said, closing her laptop.

They stepped outside, the cold air biting against Y/N’s skin. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Karina stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets, watching Y/N with cautious eyes.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Y/N said, her voice raw. “I can’t keep pretending I’m okay with you spending all this time with her.”

Karina’s brows furrowed. “It’s work, Y/N. You know that.”

“No,” Y/N snapped, her voice rising. “It’s not just work. She’s been feeding me lies—telling me you’re unsure about us, that you have feelings for her. And then I see you with her, and it’s like… maybe she’s right.”

Karina stepped forward, her voice laced with frustration. “She’s not right. Y/N, I’ve told you before—Yujin’s lying to you. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because she says it so convincingly!” Y/N’s voice cracked, her eyes burning. “And I don’t know what’s real anymore. Every time I see you with her, I feel like I’m losing you piece by piece, and it’s killing me.”

Karina’s face softened, her anger melting into something far more painful. “You’re not losing me. Y/N, you’ve never lost me. Yujin is trying to tear us apart because she wants me for herself, but I don’t want her. I’ve never wanted her. I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Y/N swallowed hard, her throat tightening. “Then why does it feel like I’m fighting for something that’s already slipping through my fingers?”

“Because she’s made you believe that,” Karina whispered, stepping even closer. Her voice trembled as she spoke. “But I’m still here, Y/N. I haven’t gone anywhere. And I won’t, unless you push me away.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Karina said softly, her hand reaching for Y/N’s. “But we’re stronger than this. We’ve been through so much together. Don’t let her win. Don’t let her take this from us.”

Y/N stared at Karina’s hand in hers, her pulse racing. For the first time in days, she felt a sliver of clarity—a reminder of everything they had built, everything they had fought for.

But before she could say anything, the door behind them opened, and Yujin stepped out, her eyes glinting with something dark and unreadable.

“Is everything okay?” Yujin asked, feigning concern, though the slight smirk on her face betrayed her intentions.

Y/N’s grip on Karina’s hand tightened. She turned to Yujin, her voice cold. “Actually, no. It’s not.”

Karina straightened beside her, her eyes blazing. “Yujin, we need to talk. Alone.”

For the first time, Yujin’s confident mask faltered.

Y/N crossed her arms, her gaze unwavering. “Yeah, we do. Because it’s time we clear a few things up.”

And just like that, the battle lines were drawn, the air thick with tension. Y/N wasn’t sure where this conversation would lead, but one thing was certain: she was done letting Yujin pull the strings.

It was time to take back control—before it was too late.

The tension in the air was suffocating as Karina and Yujin stood face to face outside the library. Y/N lingered by the door, her heart pounding, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She had trusted Karina to handle this, but the fear of what Yujin might say still clung to her like a shadow.

Karina’s eyes were sharp, her jaw set. “We need to talk—now. No more games, Yujin.”

Yujin tilted her head, her lips curling into a slow, practiced smile. “Games? I think you’re being a bit dramatic. I was just trying to protect you, Karina. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Karina’s expression hardened. “Protect me? You’ve been lying to Y/N. Telling her things you know aren’t true. You’ve been trying to push us apart.”

Yujin crossed her arms, her confidence unwavering. “And why would I do that? What could I possibly gain from it?”

Karina scoffed. “Don’t act innocent. You know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve always been good at manipulating people, twisting things until they break.”

Y/N clenched her fists, stepping forward. Her voice was low but steady, carrying a weight that made Yujin falter for just a second. “You told me Karina had feelings for you, that she was confused. You made me doubt her—doubt us. And for what? To get what you want?”

Yujin’s smirk flickered, her eyes narrowing. “I only told you what I thought you needed to hear. If you were so quick to believe it, maybe that says more about your relationship than it does about me.”

The words hit like a slap to the face, leaving Y/N breathless. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay grounded. “Don’t twist this around. You wanted me to walk away from her. You made it sound like I was holding her back, like she’d be better off with you.”

“And maybe she would be,” Yujin said smoothly, her voice dropping into something almost tender. “Think about it, Y/N. You’ve been doubting her for weeks now. Isn’t that exhausting? Isn’t it easier to just… let go?”

Karina stepped between them, her voice shaking with anger. “Enough, Yujin. I love her. I’ve always loved her. Nothing you say is going to change that.”

Yujin’s smile faltered, the mask slipping just enough to reveal a flicker of hurt. For the first time, her confidence wavered. “I was just trying to show you what you could have, Karina. Someone who understands your world, who won’t hold you back.”

Karina’s eyes blazed. “What I want is Y/N. And I’ll fight for her, no matter how hard you try to come between us.”

Yujin opened her mouth to respond, but Y/N stepped in, her voice sharp. “You’ve done enough damage. Stay out of our lives, Yujin. I won’t let you poison this anymore.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of the confrontation settling around them like heavy fog. Yujin’s face twisted in frustration, her eyes flicking between Y/N and Karina before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.

Karina let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging with the release of tension. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I should’ve seen what she was doing sooner. I should’ve protected you from this.”

Y/N shook her head, her throat tight. “It’s not your fault. I should’ve trusted you more. I let her get inside my head.”

Karina stepped closer, cupping Y/N’s face gently, her eyes filled with regret. “We’ve both made mistakes. But I don’t want to lose you—not over her, not over anything.”

Y/N felt the tears spill over, but she didn’t pull away. “You won’t. I’m still here.”

Karina leaned her forehead against Y/N’s, her voice barely a whisper. “Promise me we’ll fight for this. For us.”

Y/N closed her eyes, nodding slowly. “I promise.”

They stood like that for a long moment, clinging to each other as if the world could crumble around them at any second. The storm wasn’t over—not by a long shot. But for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N felt steady, anchored by Karina’s unwavering presence.

Whatever came next, they would face it together.

And this time, they wouldn’t let anyone tear them apart.

The aftermath of Yujin’s lies wasn’t the dramatic explosion Y/N expected. It wasn’t some sudden, clean resolution. Instead, it was an unrelenting ache—one that seeped into everything she did, coloring every word she spoke to Karina and every glance they exchanged.

It had been days since the confrontation with Yujin. Days since the air between Y/N and Karina had shifted into something heavy and unfamiliar. There were no more accusations or harsh words, but there also wasn’t the same ease that used to come naturally between them. Their conversations were polite but guarded, their touches cautious.

Y/N felt like she was walking a tightrope, afraid to say the wrong thing and break whatever fragile peace they had left. And every time Karina’s phone buzzed, her stomach twisted into knots. Even though Yujin was no longer in the picture, the damage she left behind lingered.

It’s not like I can undo it, Y/N thought bitterly one night as she stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. I can’t unhear what she said. I can’t forget the way she made me feel.

The worst part wasn’t that Yujin had lied. It was that some part of Y/N believed her. Believed that maybe, just maybe, Karina deserved something better. Something easier.

The next evening, Y/N decided she couldn’t sit with her thoughts anymore. She needed to see Karina—to talk to her before the doubts consumed her entirely. She grabbed her jacket and left without even thinking to check the weather. The rain started halfway to Karina’s place, soaking through her clothes, but she didn’t care. She needed answers more than she needed to stay dry.

When Karina opened the door and saw Y/N standing there, dripping wet, her eyes immediately filled with concern. “Y/N? What are you doing here? You’re soaked!”

“I couldn’t stay home,” Y/N said, her voice barely steady as she stepped inside. “I’ve been going out of my mind, Karina. I need to talk to you.”

Karina shut the door behind her, worry etched into her face. “Of course. Come here.” She reached for Y/N’s arm, guiding her to the couch and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “You’re freezing.”

Y/N sat down but didn’t relax. Her eyes stayed fixed on the floor, her fingers clutching the blanket. “I thought I was okay after what happened with Yujin. I thought once she was out of the picture, things would go back to normal.” She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But they haven’t.”

Karina sat beside her, her heart sinking at the pain in Y/N’s voice. “I know,” she admitted softly. “I feel it too.”

Y/N glanced at her, startled by the confession. “You do?”

Karina nodded, folding her hands together. “I thought if we just moved on, if we didn’t talk about it too much, things would fix themselves. But… I’ve been scared too. Yujin’s words got to me, Y/N. Not because I believed her, but because she made me realize how fragile this feels sometimes. I hate that she planted those doubts in your head. I hate that she made you question us.”

Y/N blinked back tears, her voice cracking. “She didn’t just plant doubts, Karina. She made me believe that I’m not enough for you. That one day, you’ll wake up and realize it’s easier to be with someone like her—someone who understands your world without needing you to explain it.”

Karina’s breath hitched. “No. Don’t say that. That’s not true, Y/N. It’s never been true.” She reached for Y/N’s hand, holding it tightly. “You’re not just enough for me—you’re everything to me. Do you hear me? Everything.”

“But what if I can’t shake it?” Y/N whispered, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “What if this feeling never goes away?”

Karina’s throat tightened, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. She cupped Y/N’s face, her touch firm yet tender. “Then we fight it. Together. Every day, if we have to. I don’t care how long it takes—I’m not letting you go because of something Yujin said.”

Y/N’s breath hitched as she leaned into Karina’s touch. “I want to believe that. I want us to be stronger, but it’s so hard. It feels like… like I’m constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Karina nodded slowly, her own fears surfacing. “I know. I feel that too sometimes. But we have to trust each other. We can’t let someone like Yujin take that from us. I love you, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. I don’t care how messy or complicated this gets—we’ll figure it out.”

The words settled into Y/N’s chest, soothing but not erasing the ache completely. Still, they felt like a lifeline, something to hold onto in the storm. She nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay. No more pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. No more running from this.”

Karina smiled through her tears, pressing a soft kiss to Y/N’s forehead. “No more running.”

The rain continued to fall outside, the sound filling the quiet spaces between their words. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long time, the tension slowly ebbing away, replaced by something more fragile but no less real—hope.

It wouldn’t be easy. The wounds Yujin left wouldn’t heal overnight, and the shadows of doubt would linger for a while. But they were still here. Still holding on. Still fighting.

And for now, that was enough.

But deep down, they both knew this wasn’t the end of the storm. It was only the beginning of learning how to weather it together.

The following days were a delicate dance—filled with cautious words and fleeting touches that left Y/N feeling more disconnected from Karina than ever before. Even though they had agreed to face things together, there was an invisible wall between them, one neither dared to fully acknowledge yet.

Y/N spent most of her time at her own place, giving herself space to breathe, to think. But thinking only made things worse.

Trust her, Y/N reminded herself repeatedly. She loves you. She chose you.

Yet Yujin’s words had left a permanent scar on her thoughts, looping over and over like a haunting refrain.

The silence between texts grew longer. The once-effortless conversations felt forced, every word weighed down with unspoken tension. Y/N told herself it was just a phase, something they’d push through—but deep down, the doubt clawed at her.

It all came to a head one cold evening when Y/N found herself outside Karina’s apartment, heart racing and fingers trembling. She hadn’t planned to come—her feet had carried her there before her brain could catch up. I just need to see her, she thought. Maybe that’ll make it better.

Karina opened the door, surprised but smiling softly. “Hey. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Hey,” Y/N replied, her voice tight. “I… I needed to see you.”

Karina stepped aside, letting her in. The warmth of the apartment contrasted sharply with the icy air outside, but it did little to ease Y/N’s nerves.

They stood there for a moment, the tension thick between them.

Karina broke the silence first. “Do you want some tea or something?”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I just… I need to talk to you.”

Karina nodded slowly, her expression shifting into something more serious. She gestured to the couch, and they both sat down, the space between them feeling vast despite the proximity.

“What’s on your mind?” Karina asked gently, but Y/N could see the worry in her eyes.

Y/N took a deep breath, forcing herself to meet Karina’s gaze. “I thought I was okay. I thought we could push past what happened with Yujin, but… I’m struggling. I hate admitting that, but it’s true.”

Karina’s brow furrowed. “I know. I’ve been feeling it too. But we’ll get through it, Y/N. We’ve already talked about this.”

“I know we talked about it,” Y/N said, her voice rising slightly. “But talking doesn’t magically make it go away. I still feel like I’m constantly second-guessing everything—every time you’re late to reply, every time you say you’re busy with work, I can’t help but wonder…”

“Wonder what?” Karina asked, her voice quieter now, almost trembling.

“If you’re having second thoughts,” Y/N whispered. “If she was right. If deep down, part of you realizes I’m not the right person for you.”

Karina’s face fell, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Y/N… no. That’s not true. How many times do I have to tell you that? I’m with you because I love you. Not her. Never her.”

“I want to believe that,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. “I really do. But you don’t know what it’s like to live with that voice in your head constantly telling you you’re not enough. And now, thanks to Yujin, that voice is louder than ever.”

Karina reached for Y/N’s hand, gripping it tightly. “Then let me help you silence that voice. You’re not in this alone, Y/N. You never have been.”

Y/N looked down at their intertwined hands, tears blurring her vision. “I’m scared, Karina. I’m scared this is going to break us. I’m scared I’ll never stop feeling like this.”

Karina’s voice shook with emotion as she spoke. “I’m scared too. But if we let that fear control us, we’re giving Yujin exactly what she wanted. We can’t let her win, Y/N. We can’t let her take away what we have.”

Y/N nodded, biting her lip to hold back a sob. “I just… I don’t know how to stop feeling this way.”

Karina leaned closer, her forehead resting against Y/N’s. “We’ll figure it out. Even if it takes time. Even if we stumble along the way. You’re worth it to me, Y/N. Every messy, complicated part of this is worth it.”

For the first time in days, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope pierce through the darkness. She wrapped her arms around Karina, holding onto her like she was the only thing keeping her grounded.

Karina’s fingers stroked her hair softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re not perfect. But we don’t have to be. We just have to keep choosing each other. No matter how hard it gets.”

The tears finally spilled over as Y/N buried her face in Karina’s shoulder. It wasn’t a solution. It wasn’t an instant fix. But it was something—a promise to try, to fight for what they had, even when it felt impossible.

They stayed like that for a long time, tangled together on the couch as the city buzzed quietly outside the window.

It wasn’t the ending Y/N had hoped for. But it wasn’t an ending at all. It was just another step—painful, messy, but real.

And for now, that was enough.

#cents works #aespa #aespa x reader #yu jimin #yu jimin x reader #karina #karina x reader #aespa karina x reader #karina x fem reader #yu jimin x fem reader #aespa x fem reader #kpop gg x reader #kpop wlw

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overadores · 3 days ago

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･ ⟢ ⋮ love last ゛༝. ✦ megan skiendiel

You know me well

pairing.ᐟ megan skiendiel x reader

about.ᐟ a sorrowful story of love, sacrifice, and time’s relentless passage, this tale follows two childhood friends whose unbreakable bond grows into something deeper, but as dreams take flight and distance pulls them apart, unspoken words linger—until one fateful night changes everything.

genre.ᐟ heavy angst. hurt, no comfort.

cw.ᐟ major character death, car accident, language.

wc.ᐟ 1229 words

a/n.ᐟ i promise you this is the last car accident story i have, a honorable mention for this lovely song which i highly recommend to listen if yall want to hurt like i did while i was writing this.

It's almost like you love me, I can tell

Have you ever sacrificed everything—your life, your entire world—just to see someone smile again?

Just to remind them that the world isn’t as dark, as empty, as it once seemed?

You did.

It was the summer of ’03.

You were just a kid back then, thrown into the same cabin at summer camp as a stranger, forced into the same space. Megan was a whirlwind of energy, the kind of girl who couldn’t sit still for a second, who danced instead of walked, who laughed at everything and anything at first, she drove you crazy. She was loud, she was hyper, she didn’t know how to read well, she struggled with spelling—but none of that seemed to stop her.

And yet, despite all that, she could read you like an open book.

She tried her hardest to write you letters, struggling to spell out your name, rewriting words over and over just to get them right. She toned down her energy whenever you were too exhausted to deal with it. She listened when you were upset, curled up beside you when homesickness hit, stayed by your side whenever the other kids played their games.

Somewhere along the way, Megan stopped being just an annoying bunkmate.

She became your second home.

You wish you had told her how much that meant to you.

But summer doesn’t last forever. When it ended, you went your separate ways—her on one side of the country, you on the other. The first few weeks were the hardest. You missed her more than you expected, missed her laughter, her warmth. But distance wasn’t enough to break you. You called, you messaged, you sent letters. It wasn’t the same, but it was enough.

You kept this going for years, even into high school.

That’s when you started to realize something was different.

At first, you told yourself it was just a silly crush, something fleeting. You thought maybe it would fade.

You were wrong.

The moment you got your own phone, you were talking constantly. Calls, FaceTimes, texts—it never stopped. Megan always found a way to call, even when she was busy. And when you finally learned to drive, the first thing you did was go to her.

You drove miles just to see her smile.

You sacrificed sleep, time, money—anything, just to be there for her the way she had always been there for you.

And as you grew older, as you stood on the edge of adulthood, you realized something that terrified you.

You loved her.

Not in the way kids love their childhood best friends. Not in the way people expect you to love a friend you’ve known forever.

You were in love with her.

But you never told her.

Not even the night you made your pinky promise.

That night, you took her to your favorite place in the world, the first person you had ever brought there. Megan had never looked happier. Then she took you to hers. You sat together, watching the sun set, golden light painting her face like a dream.

“You know, I’m so lucky to have you,” she had said, turning to you with that soft, radiant smile.

You wanted to tell her then.

You wanted to say, Megan, I love you.

But all you could say was, “And I’m lucky to have you. I hope we spend more days like this, together, until we die.”

She laughed, holding out her pinky. “Then let’s pinky promise on it.”

You hooked your pinky around hers, sealing a promise you didn’t know you would break.

Then came the day Megan called you, her voice thick with tears.

She didn’t get into her dream university.

You didn’t even think. You just grabbed your keys, got into your car, and drove straight to her house.

When she opened the door, her face was streaked with tears, her shoulders shaking.

“Megan, darling, I’m so sorry,” you whispered, pulling her into your arms. She buried her face into your shoulder, crying so hard you could feel your heart breaking.

“But I really wanted to go there,” she sobbed.

“I know.” You held her tighter. “I know, love. But it’s their loss. You’re an incredible dancer, and if they can’t see that, they don’t deserve you.”

She sniffled, letting out a small, shaky laugh. “You always say the right things.”

“I just know you.”

To cheer her up, you took her to her favorite place, bought her ice cream, snacks—anything to see her smile again.

A week later, she called, screaming into the phone.

She got accepted into Dream Academy.

You were beyond proud of her.

But then came the worst part.

She told you that you had to cut contact.

The academy had strict rules—no outside communication, no distractions. You understood. So, you let her go.

You waited.

You watched her from a distance, following every update on her journey. When the finals came, you knew—you knew—she would win.

Then, two days after the announcement, your phone rang.

It was her.

“We can finally celebrate,” she said, her voice full of excitement. “Come over?”

You laughed, already grabbing your keys. “I’m on my way. Get ready.”

She giggled. “Hurry up, slowpoke.”

That was the last thing she ever said to you.

The roads were nearly empty that night.

You were driving, one hand on the wheel, the other checking your phone at a red light. Megan had sent a text.

Meg: hurry uppp, im waitinggg >:(

You smiled, typing back a quick reply.

You: five minutes, i promise.

You never made it.

The light turned green. You started driving again.

And then—

A flash of headlights.

A deafening crash.

Everything slowed down.

You felt the impact before you even realized what was happening.

Pain.

So much pain.

Your thoughts blurred, fading in and out, but you still saw flashes of your life.

Your parents.

Your childhood.

And then Megan.

The girl who was waiting for you.

She was probably texting you again, telling you to hurry up. Probably fixing her hair, too excited to sit still.

You wanted to tell her you were coming.

You wanted to tell her you were sorry.

You wanted to tell her—

I love you.

But you never got the chance.

They say when someone dies unexpectedly, there’s a moment—just a moment—when their soul lingers.

Long enough to see the aftermath.

Long enough to see who mourns them.

You don’t know if that’s true.

But if it is, then you know exactly what you would’ve seen.

Megan.

Sitting in her room, waiting.

Checking her phone every few minutes, frowning when you didn’t respond.

Calling you, only for it to go straight to voicemail.

Then, the next day, the call she never expected.

A voice on the other end, telling her the news.

You can imagine how she reacted.

Shocked.

Denial.

Then, the tears. The way she must’ve curled up in her bed, crying her heart out.

The way she must’ve whispered, No, no, no, they promised. They promised we’d have more days together.

The way she must’ve broken, knowing you never got to celebrate her win.

Knowing you never got to say goodbye.

Megan, darling.

You hope she knows how much you loved her.

You hope she knows how much you sacrificed for her.

You hope she knows, even in your final moments—

You were thinking of her.

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aliceinborderlandsquidgame · 2 days ago

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I just love you | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Summary: The Salesman loves his wife and sometimes it shows in...unsetting ways.

Warnings: Possessive!Salesman - Obsessive!Salesman - Toxic!Relationship - Manipulation - Short

Its subtle, you wont notice it unless you were looking for it, or unless you were like him.

The Salesman its never one to lose his composture, even less in front of you. The firm grip he has on your hand while you two take walks its only his way of being sure that you are still by his side and that he did not lost you on the crowd. Its only that.

Right?

Its not him being paranoid over you wanting to run from him. No that would make him weak and be a signal that he is doing something wrong.

What about these tense smiles he gives to strangers when they (oh casually dont see the ring on your finger) come to you ? That predatory gaze that screams at them to back off. Its him being protective of you. Any husband would look bad at other men flirting with his wife. Its not something that should worry you.

What you dont know if that some of these same men end with him. On a different aparment that you dont know he has. Playing games for their lifes as a punish for even thinking they had a chance with you.

And when he worries that you are going out ? With your friend wearing that dress ? He does tell you how bautiful you look of course. Anything you wear looks perfect on you.

Then once you leave with a final kiss and promising that you will send him messages that you are fine and that maybe once you are back both of you can indulge in some pleasure.

He is on the app tracker seeing exaclty where you are. If he had any work to do while you were out its out from his mind. He can picture you having fun, and really he has no problem at all with it.

But he cant help but bite is UÑQS at the idea of someone getting close to you. At the idea that something bad could happen. Does he sends someone to follow you and make sure you are fine ? No. He does not want a single soul to know about you, and he wants to be your only protector.

When you send him different texts telling him you are doing fine and even some pics of you and your friends he can breath in peace. Just a bit.

Its only when you are back at his home that he his worries wash off. He is over you kissing you but also looking for any type of bruise or sign that someone touched you. He would also smell you, telling you he missed you but he his making sure no male fragance its on you.

Helps you take a shower and then cuddles you till you fall asleep in his arms whispering non important things.

Another thing he does that you dont know about its record your voice. Specially during the moments you tell him you love him or tell him soft things. He would listen to them on his way to the first station and then turn them off so he can change into that cold persona that needs to be to recruit players.

Plays it again on his way home since he needs to feel more human. Like he is getting out of one disguise and leaving himself for you to attack. On a playful and full of good intentions thing of course.

The moment he has you in a hug he is letting out the day he had and just enjoying this moment so perfectly made with you.

#squid game imagines #squid game x y/n #squid game 2 #suicide squad imagine #squid game x reader #Salesman x reader #recruiter x reader

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withacapitalp · 3 days ago

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Stuff Me, Hug Me, Take Me Home

@stevesbipanic B HAPPY VALENTINES!!! Tis I! Your secret admirer!!! I loved this prompt and I had so much fun with it thank you so much and I hope you love it!!! Special thanks to @thefreakandthehair and @hairstevington for listening to be a little feral and insane about the first thing I'm writing in a very long time

Read on AO3 instead

If there was one place Eddie never expected to end up at on Valentine’s Day, it was the mall.

When Steve had asked to ‘take point’ this year, Eddie had imagined a day at the lake, maybe a secret picnic, perhaps even a scenic road trip. Something that was their style. A tucked away moment, quiet and held close, so it belonged to just the two of them.

There was no way the mall - the epicenter of American greed and capitalistic cannibalism - would have that.

“I can’t believe I found this parking spot!” Steve crowed, tossing Eddie a winning smile as he threw the car into park and grabbed his phone from where it was charging, “Wasn’t that lucky?”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie agreed, trying to hide his disdain, but definitely failing given the way Steve’s smile dipped. The mall loomed over them, blocking out the sun with its oppressively boxy architecture, and Eddie couldn’t help his own glow starting to dim.

The day had started so promisingly. Steve had woken up early and slipped out of bed without Eddie realizing, coming home with ludicrously over decorated heart shaped donuts and coffee from their favorite bakery. They had traded lazy sugar-filled kisses, cuddling and watching Labyrinth.

Hell, Steve had even managed to almost hide how much he disliked the movie, commenting on David Bowie’s ass and conveniently ignoring the plot and puppets. He hadn’t even texted Robin all morning!

And now…well now they were at the mall.

“Are we going to a movie or something? We could’ve just gone to The Hawk. You know IMAX movies give me headaches.” Eddie said as they exited the beemer. Steve came around the front, grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing it twice - their signal for needing the other person to listen.

“Trust me?” Steve offered, chewing on the inside of his lip and giving Eddie the big puppy dog eyes he could never resist. Eddie groaned, grumbling softly to himself as he lifted their joined hands up to his lips.

“Always,” he whispered back, sealing the promise with a kiss.

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, the mall actually wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. His brain had conjured up tortuous images of packs of useless husbands trolling around for a cheap gift to pawn off on their wives, or hordes of angsty teens lamenting not having someone to share the holiday with.

But at almost four in the afternoon it was sleepy, practically dead. And besides, it was hard to look around when Steve was dragging him forward with a single-minded determination. All Eddie could do was try and keep up, shooting glances at his boyfriend to try and catch his eye, wondering why Steve was suddenly loath to meet his gaze.

Then they were stopping short, Eddie stumbling and nearly tripping as Steve let go of his hand out of nowhere. He righted himself, about to tell Steve off for acting so weird, when he looked up and was struck speechless.

“You mentioned that you always wanted to go here, but that Wayne never had the money for it,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning out of Eddie’s space as he continued to avoid eye contact.

Eddie had told him that, but just once. Only once. He could remember the exact moment. The two of them in the kitchen of their apartment right after the move, unpacking mugs as Eddie told the story of each one and placed it with care on the shelf. It was the last mug, the final story of that night.

“My dad promised me he would take me to Build-a-Bear for my fifth birthday. And my sixth. And my seventh. By my eighth, I stopped answering when he asked me what I wanted, ‘cause I knew it didn’t matter. By ten I was already living with Wayne, and I didn’t even want to ask him, I knew we couldn’t afford it. Wayne found out anyway, because he’s Wayne, and so he got me this mug for my eleventh birthday, and told me it was an IOU. I don’t even know why I wanted to go to build-a-bear so badly, I just got it in my head that having my own bear would be special. Something that was mine, and always would be, you know?”

And now here Eddie was, standing in front of an ostentatiously yellow store with his heart settled neatly in his throat.

“I know it’s kind of silly now, because we’re almost thirty. You might not even care anymore, but I thought maybe it would be a nice Valentine’s Day gift? We could build you a bear, and then you would have him forever and always,” Steve explained, his thoughtfulness continuing to choke Eddie to death.

Eddie didn’t believe in God, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t something looking out for him. Something had to have given him Steve. There was no way this wonderful, beautiful man just landed in his lap.

“I’m sorry I-” Steve began, obviously misinterpreting Eddie’s silence.

“I love it,” Eddie said, cutting off the apology before it could truly begin.

He couldn’t let Steve doubt this, not even for a single second. Eddie cleared his throat roughly, blindly reaching out and latching onto Steve’s wrist, pulling his boyfriend close and wrapping him in the tightest hug possible as he continued to ramble.

“I do, I love it and I- thank you, Stevie. You’re so- you’re just- thank you, thank you, thank you,”

“Easy, Eds,” Steve murmured, the tips of his ears turning pink as he pressed their cheeks together and gave Eddie a parting squeeze. Eddie let him pull away, but didn’t let him go, interlocking their fingers as he began to bounce in place.

“We’re going to Build-a-Bear!” Eddie giggled, his joy beginning to spill all over the place.

Steve nodded, smiling just as brightly as Eddie. But, when Eddie went to pull him forward, Steve held fast, keeping them both in place.

“There’s just one rule. I don’t want you to look at prices at all. You get whatever you want, however you want it. Got it?” Steve said with a mock stern look. Eddie opened his mouth to agree, then hesitated.

It wasn’t like they were destitute. Between Steve’s job as a sub and Eddie’s work at the garage, they were making good money. But with rent, Steve's tuition, and the regular expenses, they didn’t exactly have a lot of cash to blow on fulfilling a childhood dream.

“I’ve been saving for this, baby. Been doing extra tutoring on the nights you were with the guys playing dungeons and dorks,” Steve admitted, a pretty blush sitting high on his cheeks. Eddie’s heart clenched up again, and he couldn’t resist dragging Steve into a chaste but forceful kiss.

“You’re the most amazing partner, you know that, right?” Eddie whispered against his lips. Steve ducked his head, pulling away and squeezing Eddie’s fingers silently as they walked into the store.

The store was almost empty, even quieter than the mall itself. A couple of parents were watching their daughters giggle over clothes for their new stuffed animals, and a young couple was chatting by the little clawfoot bathtubs in the back, but other than that it was just the two of them. There was some bubblegum pop playing in the background, the kind of thing Steve liked to listen to when he made dinner at night. The sound of it settled Eddie instead of setting his teeth on edge, and he couldn’t help leaning against Steve as they approached the bins of unstuffed bears.

“Go on, pick your new friend,” Steve said, nudging Eddie forward and taking a step back to watch.

It was easy to eliminate some choices off the bat. Eddie took away anything that was themed for Valentines, or promotional, and he pretty quickly decided against anything that wasn’t a traditional bear. Normally he would’ve loved the contrarian energy of building a dragon or a unicorn, but he wasn’t just making this for right now. This was also for the little Eddie that had dreamt of having that perfect plush bear to snuggle with at night.

But the problem was, he had never really imagined what the bear looked like.

“Help me?” Eddie whined, turning back to Steve who shook his head fondly but walked forward anyway. Steve perused the options for a second before reaching into a bin and pulling out a charcoal black bear with brown eyes.

“What about this one? If you give him a battle vest and a band tee he would be a mini-you,” Steve offered, holding the bear out. Eddie took it, letting his fingers run over the fur and imagining the bear properly stuffed and dressed.

It was perfect.

They walked past the bear bins, up to a stand with plastic cases and the words “HEAR ME” above it in bright red letters.

“Okay, one more rule for today. Cover your ears and turn around,” Steve ordered, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a no-nonsense look. Eddie raised a brow, briefly considering putting up a fight, just for the heck of it.

But there was something in Steve’s face, a glint in his eyes that just bordered on the edge of panic and a crook in his smile that made it sit not quite straight on his face. Whatever he was doing, it was probably something big.

So, instead of being a gremlin, Eddie remained obedient, turning on his heel and cupping his ears, humming one of the band’s latest creations for good measure. He managed to get all the way through the first two choruses and up to the bridge before he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes.

“Time for the best part,” Steve said in a soft sing-song tone, pushing Eddie towards the machine filled with stuffing where an employee was patiently waiting for them.

“Hi there, guys!” She said with a bright grin, “My name is Rosie, and I’m here to help you bring your friend to life.”

Steve, being the amazing boyfriend he was, somehow sensed Eddie’s hesitancy, speaking for both of them as they got closer. “I’m Steve, and that’s Eddie. It’s his first time here.”

“That’s so great! Okay so I am going to stuff your new friend exactly how you’d like him, then you’re going to pick a heart out of this box and follow all my instructions,” she explained in a patient but authoritative tone that reminded Eddie so much of Nancy he almost laughed out loud. He willingly handed over the bear, watching as she lined him up with the machine.

“Firm or soft?”

“Soft,” Eddie answered automatically, going with his gut.

Rosie nodded and went through the process of stuffing the bear, methodically filling up each paw and giving them a good squeeze before handing the bear to Eddie for a quick check.

“Before we do the heart ceremony, do you want to add a smell to your bear? We have some of our scents here, and I can go to the back and get you any one off this list if you want.” She offered as Eddie held his bear close.

“Remember our rule,” Steve whispered loudly in his ear, and Eddie rolled his eyes, his heart almost filled to the bursting. He pointed out a lemon scent on the list and they watched Rosie leave to grab it.

“Why lemon?” Steve asked, cocking his head to one side.

“Reminds me of how the house smells on Sundays,” Eddie replied. “All your favorite cleaning products smell like lemons, and all you drink from May to September is lemonade.”

“It’s a refreshing smell,” Steve grumbled, not a trace of heat in his tone. Eddie chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Whatever you say, Lemon Boy,” he managed to get out just as Rosie returned, a yellow bear paw held in her hand.

“Now while I put this in and add some final touches, you choose your heart and then we will do the heart ceremony.” She instructed.

Eddie peered into the box, his eyes immediately locking onto a plaid heart. He plucked it out, showing it to Steve who couldn’t resist laughing. It was the exact same pattern as the god-awful wallpaper he had in his room when they first started dating, and, without words, they both knew what they were thinking about.

“Okay, are you ready?”

Eddie nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Rosie stood in front of them and held out her hands.

“So you’re going to hold the heart just like this,” she demonstrated, cupping her hands and beginning to rub her palms together, “and you’re going to make the heart all nice and warm and toasty for your new buddy over there!”

Eddie followed her directions to the letter as she had him flip the heart and tap three times (“To wake up his heart and get it beating!”) and lifted the heart up to the sky and waved it back and forth to give his bear very high hopes. He even turned in a circle, delighting in listening to Steve laugh at his antics.

This was the exact kind of thing Eddie loved to do most - put on a show and lose himself in being a little silly.

“Now, rub the heart down your back, that way your buddy always has your back. Rub it down your side, so they stay by your side forever and always. Rub it across your cheeks, so your buddy is always smiling each and every day, and hold the heart to your chest to make a nice big wish!”

Eddie paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a second to think. He had lots of wishes. He wished his van would hold out for just one more paycheck, that the kids would enjoy the campaign he put together for them. He wanted Wayne to stay healthy, for Steve to pass his classes, for someone, anyone, to find the band and give them their big shot.

But there was one wish that was more important than the rest.

“The last thing is giving it a nice big kiss, so your buddy is always full of love.” Rosie said with a flourish.

Eddie was about to lift the heart to his lips when he paused, turning to Steve and holding it out. Steve’s lip curled in a small, indulgent, smile, and he leaned forward, pressing a long kiss right in the middle of the fabric heart. The edge of his lip touched Eddie’s thumb, sending a shiver down his spine.

From there the process moved quickly. Rosie sewed up his bear with deadly efficiency, and Eddie and Steve tag teamed the wall of outfits to find the perfect battle vest for Eddie’s bear. Before he knew it, Eddie was sat at a tiny little computer with his bear in his lap and Steve’s chin hooked over his shoulder, both of them staring down at the blank bear birth certificate.

“I don’t know what to name him,” Eddie moaned, leaning back against Steve, who appeared to be deep in thought.

“Beddie.”

“Beddie?” Eddie repeated incredulously, turning to look at Steve properly.

“Bear Eddie,” Steve shrugged, as if that made any sense at all. “He does look just like you.”

Eddie snorted, leaning forward and typing out the name, then hesitating and typing some more.

“What do you think?” he asked, trying to hide the sudden nerves that were lighting up his veins. The last name wasn’t a huge risk to take, but it meant something, something far more than either of them were willing to admit just yet.

“Perfect,” Steve said with a kiss pressed to Eddie’s cheek.

And that was how Beddie Bearington ended up nestled between Eddie and Steve that night as they lounged on the couch. Steve had fallen asleep two episodes deep into their Survivor binge, and Eddie was content to stay exactly where he was for at least a few more hours. He dipped his head down, pressing his face to the center of the bear’s chest and smelling the candied lemon scent that permeated through the fur. As he continued to cuddle his bear, Eddie felt something hard and square in the left paw. He pulled back, perplexed by the sudden change, carefully feeling around the object and wondering what it might be.

With a jolt, Eddie finally put together Steve’s behavior from before. He had somehow hidden a sound box inside Eddie’s bear, that was the secret Steve hadn’t let him hear before. Eddie slapped his forehead with a palm, unable to believe he could’ve missed something so obvious. The boys would’ve had words to say about their DM being so unobservant.

Eddie took a cursory look down to make sure Steve was still asleep, and then pressed it, putting the bear's paw up to his ear. He had expected a song, or even some funny sound.

Nothing could have prepared him for the soft tone of Steve’s voice, fulfilling the secret wish he had put into his bear’s heart.

“Hi Eddie, it’s me, your boyfriend, Steve. I want you to know that you are the funniest, sweetest, most creative person I know, and I’m so happy that I get to love you…because I do. I love you, Eddie.”

“It’s true,” a voice whispered from below. Eddie moved the bear and there was Steve, staring up at him. “Sorry I couldn’t say it before.”

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered, almost in awe that he could finally say it and hear it back.

He could hear it whenever he wanted. Eddie pressed the button on the box again just because he could. Steve’s words filled the air as Eddie nestled Beddie into the couch and dipped his head down, hair falling in a curtain around them as they shared another kiss.

#steve harrington #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #st #valentines day #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic

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hotchnerwrites · 2 days ago

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Valentine's with JJK Men

Pairing: JJK men x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: SFW, Valentine's date, fluff, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Happy Valentine's! Total last-minute speedrun, working on ending my writing block ugh. Please ignore my grammar and any typos, I didn't have time to check asdfghjk,,, Enjoy!

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

Satoru Gojo

You had been worried, in all honesty. But you had decided to give Satoru the benefit of doubt. He’d come up with something. But then… 14th February rolled around and still nothing. So you sent out some feelers, in the form of subtle questions.

Should I get my nails done? What do you think of this restaurant?

You really didn’t need to. He had sent you a last minute text the day before like, “Hey, pick you up at 7 tomorrow. Wear the blue dress, it’s hot.” Because of course, he was too confident you’d say yes. Which you did.

But the irritation melts away when you open the door and he’s standing there, all soft-smiles and heart-shaped sunglasses. He smothers you with compliments, and you wonder if your heart will flutter out your chest.

And Gojo never does things halfway. He’s the personification of the saying ‘Go big, or go home’, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. He had brought with him a small mountain of gifts— designer accessories, ridiculously overpriced chocolates (he’d probably end up eating the lot), and a bouquet so big he was nearly invisible behind it.

Satoru had also taken the liberty to book an extravagant date at the most exclusive restaurant in town, complete with a candlelit dinner and a skyline view. Throughout the night he’s flirty and playful, feeding you bits of cake just to watch you roll your eyes at his antics, and pressing kisses along your knuckles like you’re some fairy princess.

The night ends with him dramatically twirling you under the stars (he admitted to stealing this idea off Pinterest), probably to music only he can hear. And when you two get home, he’s snuggling up to you like a clingy cat, murmuring, "You know, I’d do this for you every day if you let me."

Suguru Geto

Suguru isn’t one for flashy displays; instead, he makes everything deeply personal. He asks you to be his Valentine a week in advance, phrasing it so softly that it feels like a promise rather than a question.

On the day itself, he surprises you with a picnic by the river. You wonder how he managed to find such a perfect spot with a gorgeous view that was also free of other couples, but that’s just Geto. He had a talent in finding placed untouched by the chaos of the world.

The blanket is laid out perfectly, and the food? Home-made, down to the last detail—because he rarely cooks, but for you, he spent the whole morning perfecting your favorite dishes. He had even tried his hand at baking, and you couldn’t help but coo at the wonky cookies.

There’s a gentle sort of intimacy in the way he pours your tea, in the way he tucks stray hairs behind your ear, in the way his fingers brush against yours as he hands you a chocolate-dipped strawberry. Suguru even wore his hair loose, flowing around his face, a look you love. He usually keeps it tied back, but he knows you prefer it this way. It’s a small detail, but it makes him feel even more approachable, even more him.

He doesn’t rush anything—he just watches, taking in the way the sunset makes you glow.

When the time feels right, he pulls out a small box, inside of which sits a necklace with a beautiful locket made of dried flowers. It’s both meaningful and expensive—something he chose carefully, something that reminds him of you.

A quiet smile tugs at his lips when he fastens it around your neck, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

“Looks perfect on you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

Later, when the sun is low in the sky and the world feels like it’s holding its breath, Suguru doesn’t rush you to move or leave. Instead, he sits next to you, his presence grounding and peaceful, just enjoying your company in the stillness of the evening. His hand finds yours in the quiet, and you can feel the solid affection between you both without needing to say anything. His love is gentle but all-encompassing, not a grand declaration but a steady flame that burns deeper than any rose or candlelit dinner could ever show.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs quietly, as if this moment—this perfect, simple moment—is enough.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is a man who plans ahead. No last-minute reservations, no rushed gifts—everything is thoughtfully chosen weeks in advance because to him, love is not about grand gestures or fleeting moments; it’s about consistency, intention, and care.

He formally asked you to be his Valentine at least a month ago, his voice steady but gentle when he said, “I’d like to take you somewhere nice. If you’re free, of course.” But there was a quiet hopefulness in his eyes, a softness in the way his fingers brushed against yours when he said it.

By the time Valentine’s Day arrives, he has already spoiled you in small ways leading up to it—fresh bouquets every week, tiny, thoughtful gifts left on your nightstand (a book he caught you eyeing, your favourite coffee blend, a handwritten note that simply said “Thinking of you.”). He never overdoes it, never makes a spectacle, but his love is constant, woven into every choice he makes.

The day itself starts with a spa appointment already booked for you, a quiet way of making sure you feel pampered. In the evening, he picks you up at your door, looking effortlessly elegant in his suit. Before you can say anything, he presents you with a stunning bouquet, bigger than any of the ones before, wrapped in understated, tasteful paper—because he notices the details you like, even when you think he doesn’t.

He murmurs a simple, “You look beautiful,” before leading you to a sleek, intimate restaurant where he’s secured the perfect table—somewhere quiet, private, away from the noise of the world.

Dinner is perfectly paced—deliberate, unhurried. He watches you with those warm, focused eyes, listening intently to everything you say.

At some point, he slides a small box across the table—not a ring, not yet, but something deeply meaningful, something he saw and thought of you immediately. When you open it, his lips quirk up ever so slightly, pleased by the way your fingers linger over the delicate earrings inside.

"I wanted you to have something special today," he says simply, but there’s an unspoken depth in those words—a quiet promise that this isn’t just Valentine’s, isn’t just a single day of romance.

By the time the night ends, he drives you home with one hand on the wheel and the other resting lightly on your thigh, his touch warm and grounding.

“I hope today was enough.” And it’s almost laughable that he even thinks that, because everything he does—every carefully chosen detail, every quiet moment—is a testament to how deeply, truly, and wholly he loves you.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is… not the Valentine’s type.

He groans when he realizes the date, mutters something about it being a commercial scam, but still finds himself dragging his ass to the store last minute to grab some things you like.

He won’t admit it, but he actually tried— he arranged the flowers in an acceptable bouquet (you ignore the misshapen stems), downloaded your favourite movie on the TV, somehow made popcorn without burning anything, and picked up dinner from your favourite spot.

But for all his grumbling, he sat through the entire thing, sneaking glances at you instead of the screen. He spent the rest of his efforts pulling you as close to him as possible, pressing the occasional kiss against your neck. His hand finds your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns.

“You owe me for this,” he mutters in your ear, but you know he doesn’t mean anything by it.

By the end of the night, he’s dozing off with his head in your lap, your fingers dragging through his hair slowly. And then so quietly that you almost miss it— “I guess it wasn’t that bad.”

Toji isn’t the best with romance, but he still showed up. He tried his best. And that means more to you than you’ll ever say.

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna does not care about Valentine’s Day.

At all.

When you first bring it up, he barely looks up from his throne, giving you an unimpressed look before growling, "What the hell is a Valentine?"

You have to practically beg him to celebrate, and even then, he makes zero effort—no chocolates, no flowers, nothing remotely romantic. If you expect candlelit dinners or heartfelt confessions, you’re delusional. The best you’ll get is an unimpressed stare and maybe, just maybe, a begrudging “I guess you look good today.”

And yet… later that night, when he sees you sulking about it, he lets out a dramatic sigh before dragging you into his lap, his fingers tilting your chin up.

"Tch. You really care about all that dumb human shit?" he mutters, but his voice is a little softer.

Then, without warning, he kisses you, slow and deep, with a kind of intensity that makes your knees weak. When he pulls away, he smirks, satisfied by the dazed look in your eyes.

"There. Happy now?" And as much as you hate to admit it, you kind of are.

Choso Kamo

Choso could probably make a career out of overthinking.

He had no idea what to get you. He spent weeks figuring out what to do. Not one social media platform was helpful, and was back to square one.

What if you don’t like his gift? What if he forgets something? What if it’s too tacky?

He spends days pacing and stressing, and at the cost of his pride, he calls Yuuji, who tells him to do whatever feels right. Great.

Choso tried, he really did.

He shows up at your door with an armful of gifts, everything from handwritten love letters to a carefully wrapped box filled with all your favourite chocolates. His eyes light up when you open the door, and without hesitation, he pulls you into the warmest, longest hug imaginable.

He keeps it simple but heartfelt—a pasta dinner, a slow movie night, his hand resting over yours the entire time.

He stares at you like you hung the stars in the sky, eyes filled with so much adoration it makes you a little dizzy. At some point, he blurts out, "I don’t really know how this works, but… I just wanted to make today special for you." And you swear, if you weren’t already in love with him, that would’ve done it.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is low-key but incredibly sweet.

He never makes a big deal out of celebrations, it’s not really his style. But he knows how much it means to you that he shows up, so he makes sure you know he cares.

You wake up to a warm cup of tea, brewed just right, and breakfast-in-bed. You’re delighted to see your eggs shaped like a heart, and Megumi stands there in the corner, grinning with pride.

When the two of you go out for lunch at the latest ‘aesthetic’ cafe you found on the net, he makes sure to surprise you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers wrapped in brown paper.

And at night, he decides to take you to a karaoke bar. In some ways, you and Megumi are polar opposites. But when it comes to karaoke, there was a shared love. He never sang in front of his friends (Nobara would never let him live it down), but he dedicates just about every song to you tonight. You’re too busy laughing to sing.

The night is cozy—just the two of you, tangled up under warm blankets, the scent of laundry soap filling the space. Megumi doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes—the way he pulls you closer, the way his fingers gently trace patterns on your skin.

At some point, he murmurs, "You make every day feel like Valentine’s Day." And just like that, your heart is gone.

Yuji Itadori

For Yuuji, Valentine’s is a mix of romance and utter chaos.

He got you flowers and chocolates, but to your utter horror, he bought you one of those musical Hallmark cards. The tinny audio drives you up the wall (Yuuji swears it’s the best thing ever invented). You’re tempted to light both him and the card on fire.

But you had no idea what was in store. You got a little worried when he set up the mini-projector. You really hoped it wasn’t another video of him singing. Bless his heart, but his singing voice should never see daylight.

You buzz in anticipation and when the video starts playing, you are absolutely delighted, Yuuji had commissioned one of those ridiculous TikTok videos where a bunch of random guys dance and hold up a sign with your face on it and wish you Happy Valentine’s.

He’s grinning the whole time, clearly proud of himself. You laugh so hard you almost forget the effort he put into everything.

The night is warm and silly. He refuses to let you oversee his cooking, resulting in mildly burnt vegetables, but the thousand tiny moments where he looks at you like you’re his entire world make it taste all the better.

At some point, he blurts out, “I just love you so much.”

And it’s so earnest, so raw, that you can’t help but tackle him to the couch with a flurry of kisses all over his face.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

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sturnslutz · 1 day ago

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matt surprises angel for valentines day.

honestly no warnings besides fluff, smoking, and cursing. happy vday everybody! :) angst at the end, i'm sorry it's dirtbag!matt if u don’t wanna read the plot twist dont read the last sentence

matt was never one for valentines day. you were though. he's spent a couple valentines with a couple girls over the years, but never once bought something for them, other than just a good fuck.

he felt different for you, though. he knew you absolutely adored valentines day. all the pink, the hearts, the love in the air. he wanted to make you feel good, and not just with his dick. he wanted to see you happy.

he still denies having feelings for you.

when he told chris and nick his surprise for you, they couldn't even fathom thinking matt could be this nice, especially for someone he's know for 4 months, max. but they weren't complaining, and they knew you would love it.

this day has been hell for you. you wanted to be happy with valentines day, but your school work was piling with reviews for finals soon, and your job booked you a double shift, which made you confused because it was a library, and you didn't really expect anyone to come on valentines day. you were wrong.

it was around 6:30 that matt had texted you that he was picking you up from work after you mentioned to him earlier that you were working a double. luckily for him, it gave him extra time to set up and to do whatever he needed to do.

he texted you that he was outside, and you clocked out at 6:45. he was waiting outside on the curb, leaning on the passenger side with a blunt in his hand. when the doors opened, he looked over and smiled a bit. "hey, baby." he walked over, wrapping his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

you didn't say anything, just hummed and wrapped your arms around his body. you inhaled his warmth, and his scent of weed and his cologne that you absolutely loved. he noticed your quietness and leaned his head down, kissing your cheek. "y'tired angel?" he asked softly in your ear.

you nodded, pushing your head deeper into his hoodie. "cmon. let's get you in the car, you're freezin'." he pulled away from the hug, but wrapping his arm across your shoulders as he walked you to his car. he opened the passenger side door, gently putting you in.

he got into the car, and started it, and giving you the blunt in his hand, which you happily accepted. "i got a surprise for you, angel. for valentines." your tired self looked up at him as your face lightened almost immediately. "really?" you said happily.

he nodded, smirking. "y'gonna love it. y'can go to sleep. i'll wake you when we get there." he rubs your thigh a bit, before squeezing it and turning on the seat heater for you, just like you like it.

you nod, handing the blunt back to him before leaning your head on the window, immediately letting sleep overcome you. about 15 minutes later, you wake up slightly to kisses on your hand.

your eyes flutter open, but a hand is covering your eyes. "are y'awake baby?" you nod a bit. "okay, i'm covering y'eyes because we're here. i want you to keep your eyes closed and i'll help you get out of the car, okay?" he says softly before kissing your hand again.

you nod again. "promise." he takes his hand off your eyes, and just like you promised, you kept your eyes closed. you heard his door open and quickly run to your side, opening your door now. he grabbed your hand, still making sure your eyes were closed, as he went behind you, pushing your back against his chest as his hand once again makes its way to your eyes. he begins walking slowly and then stops.

he takes his hand off your eyes. "don't open them yet. i need you to know i've never done this for any girl before, or anyone actually. i know i'm a bitch sometimes but y'the sweetest girl i know. chris 'n nick helped me with this. y'can open your eyes now." his speech came out a bit shaky, almost like he was nervous. you've never heard this tone from him before, but your heart fluttered.

you opened your eyes, the sun hitting them directly as the sun was setting. you let your vision become adjusted before actually looking at what was infront of you.

matt had brought you to your favorite spot in all of town, the spot matt had introduced to you, it was where the sun had set right behind the lake and forest, the view being perfect. he had set up a picnic with tons of bouquets of your favorite flowers.

your eyes filled with tears as you smiled big. you looked at matt, who was almost avoiding eye contact as he looked down and picked at his nails. "matt." you said, choked. he looked up at you before his face softened seeing your tears. "fuck- do you not like it? i knew it was cringy but-" "i love it, matt. thank you." you didn't let him get another word out before you hugged the boy, almost knocking the air out of his lungs.

he stood still for a bit, before relaxing into the hug, hugging you back softly. "really? y'like it?" you nod against his chest as he kisses your head before resting his chin on your head, rubbing your back. "cmon. enough cryin'." he says that, but makes no move to actually pull away.

after some time, you did pull away, sniffling. he looked down at your puffy face before he smiles, and you do too. "cmon, angel. let's go eat." he pulls your hand, bringing you to your pink blanket that you left at his house, resting on the grass. once you guys sat down, he thankfully brought his car up close enough to the blanket where you two would be able to lean back against the front, watching the sunset.

what you didn't know was the pics he had of the girl he saw right before he picked you up, in a pair of new lingere he had bought her in your favorite color.

taglist 1: @muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @oopsiedaisydeer @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss comment to be added or removed.

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octaneink · 2 days ago

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Not just you, not just me. Us.

Harry Lewis x Reader

Summary : The Reader and Harry go golfing on Valentines, even though the Reader has never gone and isn't really enjoy it but it ends on a high when they get some food and watch a film Warnings: None Notes: Happy (late) Valentines Day All 😚💕Also I hope this was alright!

You woke up to the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a sleepy haze. Your phone buzzed on the night stand, and you reached for it, squinting at the screen. A text from Harry lit up the display: “Good morning, love! Happy Valentine’s Day! Wear something comfy—we’re going golfing!”

Golfing? You blinked, trying to process the words. You’d never played golf in your life. The closest you’d ever gotten to a golf course was watching Happy Gilmore on a lazy Sunday afternoon. But Harry sounded so excited in his text, his enthusiasm practically radiating through the screen. You didn’t want to disappoint him, so you dragged yourself out of bed, showered and threw on some comfortable clothes, and texted back, “Can’t wait!”

When Harry picked you up, he was practically bouncing with energy. He had a big grin on his face, his golf bag slung over his shoulder, and a thermos of coffee in his hand. “For you,” he said, handing it to you with a kiss on the cheek. “I know you’re not a morning person, so I thought you might need this.”

You smiled, taking the thermos gratefully. The coffee was perfect—just the way you liked it—and you felt a little flutter in your chest at how thoughtful he was. “Thank you,” you said, sipping it as he drove. “So, golfing, huh? What made you decide on that?”

He glanced at you, his eyes sparkling. “I just thought it’d be fun to do something different for Valentine's Day, I’ve never heard about it being a date. Which is a big missed opportunity. Plus, I’ve been wanting to teach you how to play. It’ll be a blast, I promise.”

You nodded, trying to match his enthusiasm, but a tiny knot of anxiety formed in your stomach. What if you were terrible at it? What if you embarrassed yourself? But Harry was so happy, and you didn’t want to ruin his plans. So, you pushed your worries aside and let him lead the way.

The golf course was breathtaking, a sprawling expanse of rolling green hills that seemed to stretch endlessly under the vast, open sky. The sun hung high, casting a golden glow over the perfectly manicured fairways, and a crisp, refreshing breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut grass. The sky was a flawless shade of blue—which was surprising for the UK—dotted with a few wispy clouds that drifted lazily overhead. It was the kind of day that made you want to stop and just breathe it all in—the beauty, the peace, the quiet.

Harry was practically vibrating with excitement as he led you to the first tee, his golf bag slung over one shoulder and a wide grin on his face. He handed you a club, his eyes sparkling as he began to explain the basics. “Okay, so first things first,” he said, positioning himself behind you. “You want to hold the club like this.” He gently adjusted your grip, his hands warm and steady against yours. “And stand with your feet shoulder-width apart. Keep your knees slightly bent. Yeah, just like that.”

You nodded along, trying to absorb everything he was saying, but your mind was racing. Golf seemed so complicated—so many rules, so many tiny adjustments. When it was finally your turn to take a shot, you took a deep breath, swung the club, and… the ball barely moved. It rolled a few feet and then stopped, pathetically short of the hole.

Harry chuckled, the sound warm and light. “It’s okay!” he said, stepping closer. “You’ll get the hang of it. Here, let me show you again.” He demonstrated the swing, his movements smooth and effortless, and then handed the club back to you. “Try it like that.”

You tried again and again, but no matter how hard you focused, your shots were either too weak or veered wildly off course. One particularly bad swing sent the ball flying sideways, straight into a cluster of trees. You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I’m hopeless,” you muttered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

But Harry just laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “You’re not hopeless,” he said, walking over to you. “You’re learning. And honestly, you’re doing way better than I did my first time. I think I whiffed—like, completely missed the ball—at least five times.”

You peeked at him from behind your hands. “Really?”

“Really?” he said, grinning. “It’s all part of the process. You’re supposed to be bad at it at first. That’s what makes it fun.”

By the time you reached the third hole, your arms were already starting to ache. The sun felt hotter now, and the breeze that had been so refreshing earlier did little to cool you down. Harry, on the other hand, was in his element. He was practically glowing with enthusiasm, his laughter ringing out across the course as he effortlessly sank one shot after another. At one point, he made a particularly difficult putt and celebrated with a little victory dance, spinning around and pumping his fist in the air. You couldn’t help but laugh, despite your growing frustration.

“Show-off,” you teased, shaking your head.

He grinned, walking over to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey, I’m just trying to impress you,” he said, his voice warm and playful. “Admit it—you’re a little impressed.”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, leaning into him. “But I’m still terrible at this.”

“Nah, you’re doing great,” he said, squeezing your shoulder. “It’s your first time. You’re supposed to be bad at it. That’s part of the fun.”

You wanted to believe him, but as the hours passed, your frustration grew. Your arms ached from swinging the club, your feet hurt from walking the course, and you were pretty sure you’d developed a blister on your hand. Meanwhile, Harry was still in his element, laughing and joking as he effortlessly sank one shot after another. At one point, he even started narrating his swings in a dramatic commentator’s voice, making you laugh despite yourself.

By the sixth hole, you were starting to feel the strain. Your hands were sore, your back was stiff, and the blister on your hand had definitely gotten worse. You tried to hide your discomfort, forcing a smile every time Harry looked your way, but it was getting harder and harder to keep up the act. When you completely missed the ball on your next swing, sending the club flying out of your hands and into the grass, you let out a frustrated sigh.

Harry rushed over, his expression concerned. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, picking up the club and handing it back to you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Just… clumsy, I guess.”

He studied your face for a moment, his brow furrowing. “You sure? You seem a little… off.”

“I’m fine,” you repeated, your voice a little sharper than you intended. “Really. Let’s just keep going.”

Harry hesitated but then nodded, his smile returning. “Alright, if you say so. But if you need a break, just let me know, okay?”

“I will,” you said, though you had no intention of doing so. You didn’t want to ruin his fun, not when he was so clearly enjoying himself.

By the time you reached the ninth hole, you were exhausted. Your arms felt like jelly, your feet were throbbing, and the blister on your hand was now a full-blown annoyance. But Harry was still grinning, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he slung an arm around your shoulders. “This is so much fun, isn’t it?” he said, his voice full of enthusiasm.

“Yeah,” you said, forcing a smile. “So much fun.”

You wanted to mean it, you really did. But as you walked back to the clubhouse, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that the day was almost over. You loved Harry, and you loved seeing him so happy, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t how Valentine’s Day was supposed to feel. It wasn’t until you were sitting in the clubhouse, sipping a drink and staring out at the sunset, that Harry finally noticed something was off.

Harry tilted his head, studying your face with a soft, concerned expression. “Hey,” he said gently, reaching over to take your hand. His touch was warm, grounding. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet for a while.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around his. You didn’t want to ruin his mood—he’d been so happy all day, so full of energy and joy. But the way he was looking at you, his eyes searching yours with such genuine care, made it impossible to keep it all in. “I’m just… not really a golf person,” you admitted, your voice quiet. “I’ve never played before, and I’m not very good at it. I didn’t want to say anything because you were having such a great time, but… it’s not really my thing.”

Harry’s face fell, his brows knitting together in concern. “Oh no,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think about that. I just got so excited about sharing something I love with you that I didn’t stop to consider whether you’d enjoy it too.”

You shook your head quickly, not wanting him to feel bad. “No, no, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy it at all,” you said, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I mean, I loved spending the day with you, and watching you have so much fun made me happy. It’s just… I think I would’ve enjoyed it more if it wasn’t Valentine’s Day, you know? Like, maybe if we’d done this on a random weekend, it would’ve felt different. But today felt like it was supposed to be… I don’t know, more us, you know? Something we both love equally.”

Harry’s expression softened, and he squeezed your hand. “I get that,” he said, his voice gentle. “I really do. I guess I got so caught up in the idea of doing something different that I didn’t think about how it might feel for you. I’m sorry if it felt like I wasn’t considering what you wanted.”

You looked down at your hands, feeling guilty for bringing it up. “I didn’t want to say anything earlier because you were so into it,” you admitted. “You were laughing and smiling, and I didn’t want to ruin that. I thought maybe if I just pushed through, it would get better. But by the end of it, I was just so tired and frustrated, and I couldn’t keep pretending.”

Harry’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch soothing. “You don’t ever have to pretend with me,” he said, his voice firm but kind. “I want you to tell me when something’s not working for you. I never want you to feel like you have to suck it up just to make me happy. Your happiness matters just as much as mine, okay?”

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Okay,” you whispered. “I just… I didn’t want to disappoint you. You seemed so excited about today.”

“I was excited because I was with you,” he said, his tone earnest. “Not because of the golf. I mean, yeah, I love golf, but I love you more. And if you’re not having a good time, then I’m not having a good time either. Not really.”

You smiled faintly, your heart swelling at his words. “I did have fun, though,” you said. “Just… not the way I thought I would. I loved seeing you so happy, and I loved being outside with you. It was beautiful out there. I just think maybe golf isn’t my thing. Or at least, not for Valentine’s Day.”

Harry chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Noted,” he said. “No more golf on Valentine’s Day. Got it.” He paused, then grinned. “How about we make it up to you? Let’s grab some food—your favourite—and then we can go home and watch a movie. Something you pick. No golf, I promise.”

You laughed, the sound light and relieved. “That sounds perfect.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “And next year,” he said, “we’ll do something we love. Deal?”

“Deal,” you said, leaning into him. And as the two of you sat there, hand in hand, watching the last rays of sunlight disappear behind the hills, you realised that even though the day hadn’t gone exactly as planned, it had still been pretty perfect. Harry’s arm was warm around your shoulders, his presence steady and comforting, and you couldn’t help but smile as the tension of the day melted away.

“Come on,” Harry said, standing up and pulling you gently to your feet. “Let’s get out of here. I think we’ve both had enough of golf for one day.”

You laughed, the sound light and relieved. “I think you mean I’ve had enough of golf for one day. You looked like you were having the time of your life.”

He grinned, slinging his golf bag over his shoulder and taking your hand. “Yeah, well, even I have my limits. And right now, my limit is how hungry I am. Let’s get some food.”

The two of you walked to the car, the cool evening air brushing against your skin. The sky was now a deep shade of indigo, dotted with the first few stars of the night. Harry opened the car door for you, his hand lingering on yours for a moment as you slid into the seat. “So,” he said, leaning against the door frame, “what are you in the mood for? Takeaway? Something greasy and delicious?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, tapping your chin dramatically. “Hmm… greasy and delicious sounds perfect. How about that little Indian place we love? The one with the amazing samosas?”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Yes. A thousand times yes. And we’re getting extra naan. No arguments.”

“Deal,” you said, laughing as he closed the door and jogged around to the driver’s side.

The drive to the takeaway was short, the streets quiet as the evening settled in. Harry kept one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your knee, his thumb tracing little circles as he hummed along to the radio. When you arrived, he insisted on going in to pick up the food while you waited in the car. “You’ve had a long day,” he said, leaning over to kiss your cheek. “Just relax. I’ll be right back.”

You watched him disappear into the restaurant, a soft smile on your face. Despite the chaos of the day, you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of contentment. Harry had a way of making everything feel right, even when it wasn’t.

When he returned, he was carrying two large paper bags, the smell of spices and warm bread wafting through the car. “I may have gone a little overboard,” he admitted, setting the bags on your lap. “But I figured we deserve it.”

You peeked inside, your stomach growling at the sight of samosas, butter chicken, biryani, and, of course, an absurd amount of naan. “This is definitely overboard,” you said, laughing. “But I’m not complaining.”

Back at Harry’s place, the two of you spread out on the couch, the coffee table piled high with food. You insisted on putting on Four Lions, one of the films that the both of you can enjoy without complaints, and the opening credits were just starting as you dug into the food.

“You know,” Harry said, tearing off a piece of naan and dipping it into the butter chicken, “I think this might be the best Valentine’s Day ever.”

You raised an eyebrow, popping a samosa into your mouth. “Really? Even after the golf?”

He laughed, leaning back against the cushions. “Especially after the golf. I mean, yeah, it wasn’t exactly what you’d call romantic, but it was… us. And now we’re here, eating amazing food and watching an amazing movie. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “You’re such a dork.”

“Your dork,” he corrected, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. His grin was wide and playful, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your cheek. But as he pulled back, you noticed a faint smear of butter chicken sauce on his lips—and now, unfortunately, on your cheek.

“Harry,” you said, trying to stifle a laugh, “you’ve got sauce on your lips. And now I’ve got sauce on my face.”

He blinked, then glanced at the naan in his hand, which was dripping with the rich, orange sauce. “Oh,” he said, his tone mock-serious. “Well, that’s just a bonus. Now you smell delicious.”

You groaned, eyes rolling in mock annoyance and shaking your head as you reached for a napkin. “You’re actually so annoying.”

But before you could wipe it off, he stopped you, his hand gently catching your wrist. “Wait, wait,” he said, his voice teasing. “I think I missed a spot.” He leaned in again, this time deliberately pressing a sloppy, exaggerated kiss to the same spot on your cheek, leaving an even bigger smear of sauce.

“Harry!” You squealed, half-laughing, half-trying to push him away. “You’re the worst!”

“No, I’m the best,” he said, grinning as he pulled back, his own cheek now slightly smeared with sauce from where it had brushed against yours. “Now we match. Couple goals, right?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even as you grabbed a napkin and started wiping your cheek. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love with you,” he shot back, his tone dripping with exaggerated cheesiness. He even winked, which made you groan and throw a small piece of naan at him.

“You’re impossible,” you said, shaking your head, but you were smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

“Impossibly charming,” he corrected, catching the naan midair and taking a triumphant bite. “Admit it. You love me.”

“I do,” you said, leaning into him and resting your head on his shoulder. “Even when you’re covered in butter chicken sauce.”

He laughed, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere. Sauce and all.”

As the movie played, the two of you laughed until your sides hurt, the stress of the day completely forgotten. Harry kept stealing bites of your food, pretending to be offended when you did the same, and by the time the credits rolled, you were both stuffed and happy. The room was warm and cosy, the soft glow of the TV casting a gentle light over the two of you as you lounged on the couch, tangled up in each other.

Harry shifted slightly, turning to face you with a mischievous grin. “So,” he said, his voice playful but with a hint of seriousness, “next year, no golf. What do you want to do instead?”

You pretended to think about it, tapping your chin dramatically. “Hmm… how about a spa day? Massages, facials, the works. Just pure relaxation.”

He groaned, but his eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Fine. But only if I get a massage too. And maybe one of those cucumber things on my eyes. I’ve always wanted to try that.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, no, don’t worry, I’m only joking. We need to think of something we both want to do. Not just me, not just you. Something that’s… us. You know, like, our thing.”

Harry tilted his head, his expression softening as he considered your words. “Okay, fair point. So, what’s something we both love? Something that feels like us?”

You paused, letting the question linger in the air for a moment. The two of you had shared so many moments together—some big, some small—but you wanted next year to be something special, something that reflected both of your personalities and passions. Then it hit you.

“How about a weekend away?” You suggested, growing more excited as the idea took shape. “Somewhere cosy, with a fireplace and a big bathtub. We could go hiking during the day—you know, explore some trails, take in the views—and then come back and relax in the evening. No golf, no spa, no pressure. Just us.”

Harry’s face lit up, his smile widening as he leaned in closer. “That sounds perfect,” he said, his voice warm and full of enthusiasm. “A little adventure, a little relaxation. Best of both worlds. And I love the idea of being somewhere quiet, just the two of us. No distractions, no schedules. Just us.”

“Exactly,” you said, feeling a rush of excitement as the plan began to take shape. “We could find a cute little cabin in the woods or maybe a cottage by the lake. Somewhere peaceful, where we can just… be.”

Harry’s eyes softened, and he reached out to brush a strand of hair from your face. “I love that idea,” he said, his voice low and tender. “And I love that you’re thinking about us—about what we both want. That means a lot to me.”

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. “It means a lot to me too,” you said softly. “I want next year to be about us. Not just you, not just me. Us.”

He nodded, his hand resting gently on your cheek. “Us,” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. “I like the sound of that.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart swelling with affection. “And we can take turns planning the details,” you added, your voice light and playful again. “You pick the hikes, I’ll pick the cosy cabin. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, sealing it with a kiss. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and for a moment, the rest of the world faded away. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with a mix of love and excitement. “Next year, it’s all about us. Just you, me, and a lot of adventure—and relaxation.”

You laughed, resting your forehead against his. “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “But you know what? I don’t need a fancy weekend or a perfect plan to know that I’m already exactly where I want to be. Right here, with you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you felt a lump form in your throat. “Harry,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I mean it,” he said. “Today wasn’t perfect, but it was still one of the best days I’ve had because I got to spend it with you. And next year, no matter what we do, it’ll be the same. Because it’s you. And you’re my favourite person.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away, laughing softly. “You’re such a romantic,” you said, your voice teasing but filled with affection.

“Only for you,” he said, pulling you into a tight hug. “Always for you.”

And as the two of you sat there, wrapped up in each other and the warmth of the evening, you realised that Valentine’s Day didn’t have to be perfect to be special. It just had to be with him. And next year, it would be exactly what you both wanted—a day that was truly, completely yours.

What do we think? This story was inspired by a couple I was serving while working as a waitress. They were out for Valentine’s Day, and it was clear the woman wasn’t enjoying her meal. I overheard her saying she was allergic to seafood, which was wild because the restaurant’s whole gimic was seafood.

It got me thinking about how couples navigate moments like that—where one person’s idea of a perfect day doesn’t quite align with the other’s. I hope the way I wrote their conversation came across as realistic and reasonable. Let me know your thoughts!

#harry lewis x reader #harry lewis #harry lewis x fem!reader #harry lewis x female reader #w2s #w2s x reader

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kiszjuli · 3 days ago

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PERFECT EXCUSE .ᐟ

✸ playful!chenle x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳synopsis. you never cared much for valentine’s day. it’s not that you needed to, because school was more important. however, when you get roped into a (stupid) day at the valentine’s day fair, with the annoyingly charming zhong chenle, maybe your perspective will change.

↳playlist. good days - sza. the perfect pair - beabadoobee. bad - wavetoearth. rainbow - nct dream. sunflower - swae lee. love countdown - nayeon.

valentine’s day at college was a disaster waiting to happen. at least, that’s how you’d always viewed it. all the heart-shaped decorations, the excessive amounts of candy, the couples holding hands like they were somehow more in love because of the date on the calendar. it was just a lot of noise—unnecessary noise at that. your life was perfectly organized, your time always scheduled, and you certainly didn’t need some manufactured holiday reminding you that romance existed.

but, of course, your best friend mia had other plans.

“please, just come with me,” mia begged, standing in your dorm doorway, her eyes wide and pleading. “you know i can’t go alone, and honestly, i need you to go so i can be with felix. i’ll owe you, i swear. just this once. for me?”

you rolled your eyes. felix was mia’s crush—one of your other friends who had a thing for always being the center of attention. you couldn’t really say no, knowing how much it meant to her, especially since she’d been talking about him nonstop for weeks. if she wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve said no.

“fine,” you muttered, sighing, setting your textbooks down. “but i’m only coming because you’re clearly desperate, and i’m not staying long.”

mia’s face lit up as if you’d just given her the world. “you’re the best! i’ll make it worth your while, i promise.” she ran to you, attacking you in a hug.

—

so here you were, standing outside the valentine’s day fair on campus, which, unsurprisingly, looked like cupid threw up. balloons floated lazily above booths, and the scent of cotton candy and fried food was everywhere. people roamed around in pairs, couples wrapped in the gooey sweetness of the holiday, while you tried your best to keep the grimace off your face.

“i’m going to go find felix,” mia said, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re fine here. i’ll text you in a bit.” she dashed off before you could even say anything in protest. your words dying on your tongue as you sighed deeply.

great, you thought. now you were stuck in the middle of this chaos, alone and—if you were being honest—irritated. you wandered toward the game booths, wondering how long you could fake having fun, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“hey, you’re not trying to sneak off and study, are you?”

you turned to find zhong chenle leaning against one of the booths, casually sipping from a drink, his bright smile practically glowing in the chaos around you. chenle was the kind of guy who could brighten up a room with barely any effort. always cheerful, always a little too playful, he had a way of dragging you into whatever ridiculous situation he was in—whether you liked it or not.

“chenle,” you said with a sigh, trying not to let your annoyance show. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing.” he grinned. “are you here for the lovey dovey atmosphere, or for the free candy?”

you crossed your arms. “neither. i’m here because mia begged me to come. and now i’m completely regretting it.”

he laughed at that, his voice like music, light and easy. “you know, it’s not so bad once you give in. the fair’s actually kinda fun, once you stop being all… ‘up tight’ about everything.”

you shot him a glare. “i’m not ‘up tight.’ i just have better things to do than waste my time at some cheesy fair.”

chenle raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. “you say that now. you’re already stuck here so…might as well make it worth your while.”

you didn’t know why, but his playful tone made you feel slightly… off balance. you’d never been good at letting go of your well-structured plans, but something about his easy confidence made you want to step outside your comfort zone. you shook the thought away.

“yeah, well, mia’s gone, and i’m stuck walking around by myself, in a place where i don’t really wanna be. not really my idea of fun.”

“stuck?” chenle tilted his head, as if considering your words. “you don’t have to be stuck.” his grin widened. “here, how about this? us. you. me. valentine’s day fair.”

you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “what?”

“no, seriously,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful, almost firm tone. “i’m asking you out. right here, right now. us, enjoying the fair.” his grin was wide, but there was an edge of sincerity to his words that caught you off guard.

you almost laughed, half in disbelief. “you’re asking me out—here? now?”

chenle shrugged, unfazed. “why not? where better to then here? what else is valentine’s day about if not taking chances?”

you stared at him for a long moment, your mind racing. it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed chenle’s charm or the way he made everything seem easier than it was. but asking you out here? it was so out there, so unlike the controlled life you were used to.

“i don’t know…” you said slowly, shaking your head. “i have a lot of work to do, and—”

“hey, hey.” chenle cut you off, his voice almost pleading, but still playful. “come on. just one day, no homework, no plans. just us and some fun what do you say?”

you felt yourself still hesitating. for all your plans and your need to be in control, something about the way he said it made you think that maybe, just maybe, you could let go for once.

“i see it, you’re giving in,” he smirks pointing at you.

“fine,” you said, a little too quickly, surprising yourself. “one hour. and i’m nothing cheesy,”

chenle’s grin was so wide, you swore he was glowing. “deal.”

and just like that, you found yourself swept up into whatever mess chenle had in mind for the day.

—

“you won’t regret this,” chenle says, grinning as he tugs you forward, weaving through the crowd. his grip on your wrist is light, like he knows you could change your mind at any second. and honestly, you might.

it was way too loud for your liking. screams and yells ring through the air, couples walking past hand in hand, some holding oversized stuffed animals, others sharing pink cotton candy like something straight out of a cliché rom-com. exactly the kind of thing you didn’t sign up for.

“i already regret it,” you mutter, adjusting your bag strap.

chenle hums like he doesn’t hear you—or, more likely, like he’s choosing not to.

then he stops, turning to face you with a dramatic flourish. “so, where should we start our date?”

you groan, smacking his arm. “this is not a date.”

chenle only laughs. “alright, alright. how about something simple? games?” he gestures toward the ones with flashing lights and prizes hanging from the ceilings—rows of giant plushies, novelty heart pillows, and even a ridiculously large teddy bear.

you eye the setup warily. “you mean the games that are totally rigged?”

“that’s loser talk.” he slings an arm over your shoulders before you can protest, steering you toward the booths. his warmth is distracting, and you hate how easy it is for him to act like this—like this whole thing is normal.

he stops in front of a classic ring toss booth, plopping down a few bills. “three tries,” the vendor says, handing over the rings.

chenle smirks, holding up a ring between two fingers. “watch and learn.”

you cross your arms. “you’re gonna lose.”

“you doubt me? me?” he presses a hand over his chest in mock offense. “that hurts. deeply.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch, barely holding back a grin. and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he can actually win.

the first ring bounces off the bottle. the second does the same.

you glance at him, smug. “loser talk, huh?”

chenle exhales, rolling his shoulders like he’s about to take the final shot of an nba game. then, he tosses the last ring.

it lands perfectly.

the booth lights flash, and the vendor claps once. “winner!”

chenle throws his arms up like he just won an olympic gold medal, then turns to you, triumphant. “see? skill.”

you shake your head, unimpressed. “that was luck.”

“skill,” he repeats, accepting the prize. a heart-shaped plushie. he turns to you, eyes twinkling, and before you can react, he presses it into your arms.

you blink down at it. “what—”

“you did say no cheesy stuff, but, y’know.” he shrugs. “couldn’t help myself.”

your fingers tighten around the plushie despite yourself. you tell yourself it means nothing. that he’s just being his usual, annoying self.

but when you look up, he’s already watching you, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips.

and for the first time tonight, you don’t have a quick comeback.

—

you don’t know when it happens—when the reluctant acceptance of being here turns into something else, something dangerously close to enjoying yourself. it had been at least an hour by now, you didn’t notice, not keeping track anymore.

maybe it’s when chenle insists on buying you a strawberry milkshake, claiming it matches the “valentine’s aesthetic” before promptly stealing half of it with a smug grin. or maybe it’s when he drags you to the dart booth, loses spectacularly, and then pouts at you until you give up your last attempt—only for you to actually win, leaving him in stunned silence before he bursts into laughter.

“i can’t believe this,” he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. “this is the worst day of my life.”

you snort, sipping the remnants of your milkshake. “you’re just mad i’m better than you.”

chenle lowers his arm, watching you with that ever-present amusement in his eyes. “nah, i’m just mad i have to give you all my future winnings now. gotta keep my girl’s record clean.”

you freeze.

he doesn’t, not even for a second, like he didn’t just say something that sent your brain into overdrive. instead, he steps closer, leaning in slightly. “huh. no comeback?”

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear he won for you earlier, and you tear your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. “shut up.”

he laughs, the sound rich and full, and for once, you don’t mind being the reason for it.

the realization hits you then—soft but certain. you like being here. you like chenle. you had for a while; behind all the sourness you felt towards him, hearing his laugh, bubbly personality, and seeing his stupid smile. and the worst part? you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

—

the sun has nearly set, casting the fairgrounds in a golden haze, and you swear the air feels different—softer, warmer, like the world itself is urging you to stay in this moment a little longer.

“okay,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “this wasn’t terrible.”

chenle turns to you, grinning like he’s just won the biggest prize of the night. “that’s it? that’s all i get?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “okay, fine. i had fun, okay?”

he hums, clearly satisfied, and nudges your shoulder with his. “good. now let’s end on a high note.”

you don’t even have time to question it before he’s steering you toward the ferris wheel. the line is short, and before you can put up a fight—not that you’re sure you even want to—he’s already handing over tickets, tugging you into one of the cars.

the ride begins, slow and steady, lifting you above the fair, above the laughter and music, until all that’s left is the quiet hum of the night and the soft glow of carnival lights below.

chenle leans back, stretching out like he owns the place, but then he turns his head, watching you carefully. “so?”

you glance at him. “so what?”

he tilts his head, eyes warm, knowing. “so, am i growing on you?”

you’ve always thought of chenle as loud, unpredictable, a little too confident for his own good. but here, in the quiet, you see something else—the way his eyes search yours like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, the way his fingers tap idly against his knee, like he’s waiting for something.

you let out a breath of laughter, but your heart betrays you, beating faster than it should. you should have a snarky response, something quick and teasing, but all you can do is hold his gaze, the space between you charged with something unspoken.

he shifts closer, not enough to cross a line, but enough to make it clear—if you wanted to close the gap, he wouldn’t stop you.

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear in your lap.

“maybe,” you whisper.

chenle’s smile softens, and then he gently reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering just a second too long.

the ferris wheel slows, grounding you, but as you look at him, at the way he’s watching you like he’s memorizing every detail, you realize something—

maybe you don’t mind falling, after all.

—

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

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obsessedhoneycomb · 16 hours ago

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Red Mercedes

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: Perfect married life sometimes hides the rotten truth of lies.

Warnings: cheating, slight manipulation, George getting what’s his at all cost, curse words and smut implication

Word count: 1.5k

A/N: After a frustrating week of not having any good ideas, I had a dream, so I finally had something to pour my heart into. It was so intense that it didn't let me eat my lunch, how fast my fingers drummed at the keyboard and my thoughts flew out of my brain. Enjoy it! :) wanted to include my favorite pregnancy trope, but i decided to not go that way this time

———

“Dad, I’m trying to tell you that mum is acting weird.” Your twelve year old son was travelling with George to Cayman Island for this event he was invited to, to speak about his ongoing career path as a leading F1 champion.

George glanced at him, his hands gripping the steering wheel, regally upset about the fact that even your son noticed that something isn't right with your marriage.

“Mum is just tired. That’s all.” he tried to brush it off, but he knew.

“You know, dad, I’m not stupid. I saw her with some man a week ago, sitting at the restaurant when we were out on a bike with boys. She was smiling at him like… Well, not like she’s smiling at you.” his son continued to ponder with his thoughts, pouring his mind out, making George feel uneasy. Pulling over at the hotel they were supposed to stay at, engine off, he turned his body to face his son.

“Buddy, I know that you love your mom, hell, who could not love her.. But she’s- it’s just a phase. I’m gonna figure it out, and you have nothing to worry about.” he tried to reassure him with his soft smile, his eyes betraying him, reflecting the weight of the growing lies.

———

“I see that you’re here with your son, he grew so much throughout the years, aren’t you afraid that he’s gonna be after you soon, you know, with racing and stuff?”

George chuckled, moving his gaze at his giggling son in the first row, his sweaty palm wrapped around the microphone. “Well, there is the possibility, but his hobbies are different. He’s much more of a cyclist, so I think that Tadej Pogacar should be scared of having another rival.”

“Oh, that’s great! Guess the Russell’s family is spreading through the field of sports. It’s a shame that your wife isn’t here with us, we had planned to have a family photo shoot for you, also spending some time on the yacht with the staff here.”

George was professional at keeping his composure, so he just chuckled again, looking at the crowd of people in the small room.

“We can do that anyway, we don’t need my wife for that. She’s busy with some of her other projects, so…”

Everybody seemed to be happy about it, not noticing the slight frown on George’s face and his son’s.

You were staying at home in Monaco, texting with your lover. Your naive brain was living in an illusion that nobody knows, you sneaking around with someone else, secret meetings at the old restaurant on the other side of the town, your red luxurious Mercedes parked in front of it very often. You were really dumb in some aspects and being so careless about getting after your own desires, you hurt your family in the process.

All those years of your marriage you heard it around you all the time, how George is a gentleman, kind guy, loving and caring husband and father, how every other woman would die for having him just for at least five minutes. But nobody saw that toll that had an impact on you, your life when you fell pregnant unexpectedly, and how George married you just because of it. Feeding you with all those empty promises, but leaving you alone through all that maternity shit because he was at the peak of his career while you were breastfeeding his restless son at night.

Yeah, there were times you were genuinely happy as a family, somewhere between the three to ten years of your son, George was more present, you accompanied him at races from time to time, depending on how his and your parents were willing to look after your kid.

But the last two years felt like a nightmare, because George won another two championships after five years of no luck, his fans being literally everywhere, even breaking into your home. You spent a lot of time on the go, changing your location and you grew tired of this. Intimity between you and George was long gone, and you yearned for something he couldn’t give you, the tension, secrecy and passion. Even if it meant to destroy everything you have.

———

Darkness overtook the docks in Monaco, rain washing away the summer heat wave. George stood at the huge ass window of your penthouse, sipping on his whiskey, even though he did not favour the liquid that much, he got used to it from time to time. Your son was away for the holiday cycling camp, and with summer break in F1, it left him home alone with the lingering scent of your expensive perfume you saved for your not so secret lover. His mind wandered over divorce, but he was too prideful to let it happen. He didn’t care about your needs, shameful desires, he wanted to keep his family together. Even if it meant to ruin your sweet secret life. And he knew his plan was working the minute you stepped into your home through the threshold, sobbing quietly, with your dress soaked through, droplets of water dripping down your hair. His lips curling into smirk, he took the last sip of his drink, leaving the glass on the coffee table in the living room, walking slowly to the hallway.

You kicked off your heels, running your hands through your wet hair, wiping off your tears along the way, your mascara staining your cheeks. Feeling how your dress is sticking to your body, you let out a frustrated sigh with a whine, finally noticing George standing in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest wearing an unreadable expression.

“What’s the matter baby?” his tone was laced with smugness, he couldn’t hold it back anymore, seeing the mess you were.

“Nothing.” you muttered, trying to walk around him to get to the bathroom, but he was after you.

“You’re clearly distressed. Tell me what happened. You were supposed to have a night out with girls, if I remember correctly?” yeah, he was playing dumb.

“I was. But my car left me in the parking lot, because the smoke started to go out of the engine and I needed to call the towing service and-” you stopped in your rant abruptly as you got to the part you wanted to erase from your memory and you didn’t want to talk about it with George.

“And? Tell me darling.” his tone was firm, demanding, he caged your body against the counter in the bathroom.

You looked up to see his face, locking your gaze with his, reading his mind. He knew. And yet he was still there.

“He left me.” with your head slumped down you whispered feeling deeply ashamed.

George smiled victoriously as the memory from earlier this week flashed through his mind, him paying that pathetic lover of yours loads of money to leave you, to ruin you, to destroy you.

“Oh baby.” he cooed sweetly, cupping that mascara stained cheeks of yours, listening to your sobs. And that was the last straw and you broke down in tears, all of the suppressed emotions flowing out as you wrapped your arms around him tightly, remorse and guilt building in your heart.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” you whispered into his chest, your tears staining his shirt.

“Shhh… I’m right here baby. It’s okay.” his fingers brushed through your hair affectionately, making you relax.

“You should be disgusted with me…”

“Believe me, I was at first. But from your point of view I somehow understood it.”

“How… How long have you known?”

“Since the first time you giggled at your phone.”

“I thought that I’m good at hiding it.”

“Oh, you were so naive that I won’t notice. You weren’t even creative at hiding your car properly. That exclusive red shade of it doesn't go unnoticed. Even our son saw you many times.”

You shuddered when you felt his lips ghosting against your temple. The mention of your son stabbed you through your heart.

“George, I-”

“Shhh, darling. Your stupid boyfriend ditched you, so let your husband, the man who truly knows how to devour you, take care of you.” George whispered with a soft hum, his lips pressed under your ear.

The way he talked made you feel ashamed. But it ignited something within you, the lust and desire for him. And it made you curse internally at how dumb you were for the past years.

“I’m gonna make sure you remember who you belong to.”

After the night to remember when George really took you like a slut you were, listening to your whines and moans, making you tell him how that lover made you feel, what he did to you, he made sure that you won’t escape his embrace again. Watching you sleep beside him, your body covered in love bruises and marks he hasn’t seen on you for months, he brushed the strand of your hair from your face, smiling proudly at how easy you were. All those years he thought you’re this soft and reserved girl who likes vanilla in bed, only to find out that you loved to be cock drunk all the time, overstimulated to the madness to keep your mind from wandering outside of the wedlock.

“You were so wrong to think that I’d let you go, my beautiful wife…” and his whisper lingered through your sleeping brain like a lullaby.

Please don't use my writings without a permission. Pictures found on Pinterest.

Tags: @chilling-seavey

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forcaleb · 2 days ago

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a picture worth sharing — caleb

warnings — fluff, childhood friends to lovers (kind of, it's implied)

notes — i think childhood friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes in the books and fics // tags: @aomiiine @sydneybee @tojicide

caleb taps your shoulder, trying to show you a picture on his phone. “hey, pip-squeak, do you remember when-”

you quickly cut him off. “nope! no, i don’t. i actually don’t know what you’re talking about.” you turn your head away, refusing to look at his phone, already suspecting it’s something embarrassing.

“you didn’t even let me finish,” caleb says, a pout evident on his lips. “come on, i promise it’s something good. you’ll love it.”

“no way! the last time you tried showing me something, it was an embarrassing picture of me as a kid!” you grimace, recalling the picture of you crying because you fell off a slide. caleb had snapped the shot with your grandma’s phone before tending to your scraped knee. “i’m not looking at whatever you’re about to show me.”

“hey, i swear it’s nothing embarrassing this time,” caleb promises. “it’s actually a picture of us from your graduation day.”

that piques your interest. “huh? really? where? i haven’t seen my graduation pictures in so long.” you reach for caleb’s phone, but instead of handing it to you, he raises it out of reach. “hey! i thought you wanted to show it to me!”

“yeah, but aren’t you going to apologize for… whatever that was just now?” caleb raises an eyebrow.

you groan. “ugh, fine. i’m sorry for assuming you were going to be mean to me. forgive me? pretty please?” you give him the classic puppy eyes, his ultimate weakness.

“pip-squeak…” caleb sighs, shaking his head. “alright, i give up. here, look.”

he shows you his phone, and your eyes widen at the sight of the picture. it is a picture of you and caleb together during your graduation day. you stand just in front of caleb, your body angled slightly toward the camera. you are holding a bouquet of sunflowers in both hands, your face lit up with a warm, cheerful smile. behind you, caleb stands slightly to your side, his posture relaxed and confident. one of his hands rests gently on your shoulder, a subtle gesture of support and closeness.

“cute, isn’t it?” he asks, grinning.

“how have i never seen this picture before?” you exclaim.

“well…” caleb smiles mischievously. “i made sure the photographer didn’t upload this to the graduation album. that way, i could surprise you with it anytime, like now.”

“wait, was it the photographer or one of your friends from the academy? i remember you coming to my graduation with a friend... gideon, right?” you ask, recalling how gideon kept teasing caleb about being so smitten with you.

“hm… well, it’s both, actually.” caleb points out. he swipes left and shows another version of the photograph. except, this time it’s a different shot. in this image, you are posing playfully in front of caleb, tilting your head to the side with a big, joyful smile. you raise one arm high in the air in an energetic and carefree gesture, adding a lively and cheerful tone to the scene. caleb stands behind you, his body angled slightly toward you, wearing a relaxed smile. his expression is calm and gentle, complementing your vibrant energy. “this is the one gideon took, and the previous one was taken by the photographer.”

“why didn’t you send these to me before?” you whine. “i could’ve used one for that empty photo frame I’ve been keeping in a box for a whole year.”

“okay, okay, i’ll send them now.” caleb chuckles as he opens your text thread and sends both pictures. “see? told you it wasn’t anything embarrassing.”

“yeah, yeah. i’m sorry for assuming the worst.” you apologize again, narrowing your eyes at him. “but from now on, you’d better send me any photos of us together. don’t you dare hide them from me again.”

“sure,” caleb agrees easily, his grin turning playful. “as long as i get to keep the silly pictures of you.”

“caleb! don’t you dare!” you shout, smacking his arm, while he laughs, clearly enjoying your reaction.

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

Note

I forgot Valentine’s Day is coming up—

Can we have Reader gifting Dan Heng a bouquet of his favorite flowers, a small pouch of homemade mint dark chocolates, a custom-made diting plush and cooking dinner?

✨💚 Nothing but the best for Dan Heng~ 💚✨

A Language Without Words

Summary: On Valentine's Day, you decide to surprise Dan Heng with a thoughtful collection of gifts—his favorite flowers, homemade mint dark chocolates, a custom-made Diting plush, and a home-cooked dinner. Though he isn't one for grand gestures, your quiet sincerity reaches him in ways neither of you expected, leading to a moment of warmth and unspoken understanding.

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Fluff, Slow Burn, Valentine's Day, Gifts & Gestures, Soft Moments, Mutual Feelings.

Warnings: Just pure fluff and softness.

The Astral Express hummed softly as it drifted through the endless expanse of space. The usual warmth of the train remained, but tonight, something in the air felt different—subtle yet lingering, like the quiet promise of something special.

You glanced at the bundle of carefully prepared gifts in your arms, a nervous flutter in your chest. Dan Heng wasn’t the easiest person to approach when it came to sentimental gestures. He kept to himself, rarely indulging in celebrations, but that didn’t mean he was indifferent.

And tonight, you wanted to show him—quietly, gently—that he was cared for.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way toward the archive room, where you knew he would be. Sure enough, Dan Heng sat at his desk, flipping through an old text, his eyes flickering under the dim lighting.

At the sound of your footsteps, he looked up, surprise flickering in his gaze. "You're still awake?"

You smiled, stepping closer. "I could say the same about you."

He blinked, then set his book aside as his eyes landed on the bundle in your arms. "What's this?"

You held out the bouquet first—a delicate arrangement of blue lotuses, their petals soft and luminescent under the lights. "Happy Valentine's Day, Dan Heng. I wanted to get you something special."

For a moment, he didn’t speak. His gaze lingered on the flowers, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out, his fingers brushing against the petals with an almost reverent touch.

"Lotuses…" His voice was quiet, but there was something in it—something softer than his usual detached tone.

"You mentioned once that you liked them," you murmured, watching him carefully. "So, I thought…"

He exhaled, barely a ghost of a smile on his lips. "You remembered."

You nodded, then placed the next item in his hands—a small pouch, filled with dark chocolate infused with mint, wrapped neatly with a simple ribbon. "I made these myself. I know you don’t like overly sweet things, so I adjusted the bitterness just right."

Dan Heng hesitated, then took the pouch, fingers grazing yours briefly. The contact was fleeting, but it sent warmth up your arm.

"You… made these?" He looked at you, something unreadable flickering in his expression.

"I did," you confirmed. "I wanted them to be something you'd enjoy."

Instead of answering right away, he undid the ribbon, taking one of the chocolates and tasting it. His lips parted slightly as he registered the taste, and for a brief moment, his normally stoic features softened.

"They’re perfect," he admitted, voice quieter than usual.

Relieved, you pulled out the last gift—a small, custom-made plush in the likeness of Diting. Its soft fabric and tiny embroidered eyes made it look even more adorable than the real thing.

Dan Heng stared at it, clearly caught off guard. "This is…"

"A companion for you," you said with a small laugh. "Since you spend so much time alone in here, I thought it might keep you company when no one else is around."

Something in his expression shifted—so subtle that most wouldn’t notice. But you did. His grip on the plush tightened slightly, and his shoulders lost some of their usual tension.

"You… went through all this trouble for me?" His voice was barely above a whisper now.

You nodded. "Of course. You're important to me, Dan Heng."

His eyes widened slightly, but before he could respond, you added, "And, I also made dinner. If you're up for it."

For a long moment, Dan Heng simply looked at you, as if trying to decipher something he couldn’t quite understand. Then, at last, he exhaled softly.

"Alright," he murmured. "Lead the way."

As you turned to leave, you felt something warm brush against your wrist—his fingers, just for a second, before they retreated. When you glanced back at him, he was already averting his gaze, but there was no mistaking the faint pink dusting his cheeks.

It wasn’t much. But for Dan Heng, it was enough.

And maybe, just maybe, it was the beginning of something more.

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maelstrom-of-emotions · 3 days ago

Text

Fluffy, Wangxian fic idea. (For Once)

So, this was inspired by the text post I made yesterday for the Wangxian family—one, I'm pretty sure someone already did, but unashamedly did anyway; you can never have too much Wangxian, after all, as the saying goes—and it was sitting in the well-worn (and sometimes, loved) backseat of my mind for a while and then I was watching Bluey before bed, and it set the ember aglow.

I wanted to cocoon Wangxian in warmth, for once. Something soft and tender, this time around. And I was like, hey, can I turn this text post into something of a mini fic? Can this be something more? So I shot a text to @xiaokuer-schmetterling and just like that, the idea took flight. @xiaokuer-schmetterling, enabler of dreams (and unhinged ideas), king among mortals, fueled the fire with unwavering encouragement, and now, here it is—no longer a fleeting thought but something tangible, something that breathes.

Modern Wangxian AU which starts Lan Wangji being tackle-hugged by his family, laughing and golden in the sunlight. Feeling so impossibly grateful like the sappy man he is, where the gods feel close and love is as simple as reaching out a hand and finding one reaching back. Content. Loved. Happy. And he stumbles through the door and finds the walls - gleaming and shining - decorated with tiny little handprints all in different colors, a chaotic mural of sorts.

“Why are there little handprints on the walls?” Lan Wangji asks, because, with Wei Wuxian, it could be anything. And it usually, is how trouble — though, a far more fonder, softer version of the word — begins.

His Wei Ying shrugs, before kneeling down to a-Yuan, who looks terribly shy and so unfathomably adorable in his little light-up sneakers and white, bunny jacket (with floppy bunny ears on the hood) and wringing his little hands together. He is so small, so precious, Lan Zhan wishes he could carry him around in his pocket always. There is a reason two pockets were invented for coat jackets, after all — one for his husband and one for his son.

a-Yuan nervously wrings his hands tighter, but Wei Ying’s voice is gentle and pretty, unbearably so, even as he whispers, “Why are there little handprints on the walls?”

It is a stage whisper. Lan Wangji hears it as clear as a crisp, summer day, but Lan Wangji is used to the (endearing) antics of his husband, and so he plays along, as he always does. Fondly.

a-Yuan, who only months ago had been a trembling thing, skittish and afraid, peeks up at Wei Ying, solemn as the moon. “Because I have little hands.” And he lifts them, as if in proof.

Wei Ying nods at them, equally grave. He rises, and a-Yuan immediately rushes to cling to his pant leg. Wei Ying ruffles his hair, soft from yesterday’s bath, still carrying the faint scent of calendula. Then, his voice still as grave as it was before, he turns to Lan Wangji. “Because he has little hands.”

a-Yuan raises them again, this time, to show Lan Wangji.

Lan Wangji looks at them, serious, thoughtful. “Mn,” he says at last. A slow smile unfurls across his lips. He nods his head at the handprints. “Well. They look lonely.”

And so they add their own. Hands dipped in paint, pressed against the walls, an unspoken promise sealed in color. This is not just play—this is permanence, a claim, a declaration. A home built not of bricks and beams, but of belonging.

And later, when the night quiets, when A-Yuan sleeps safe and small beneath the covers, his hands no longer trembling, Wei Ying will turn to him, eyes too bright, too full, and Lan Wangji will understand, as he always does.

This is it. This is the moment.

For a-Yuan, who once flinched at raised voices and curled in on himself when the world seemed too big, who now paints walls with fearless little hands and tugs at Lan Wangji’s sleeve with the easy, thoughtless trust of a child who knows they will be caught. For a boy who had known only instability, who had been shuffled from house to house with no roots to anchor him—this is proof that he is wanted. That he can take up space without fear. That his existence does not come with conditions.

For Wei Wuxian, who had taken one look at a bright-eyed boy chasing a bunny plush across a too-crowded orphanage and felt something crack wide open in his chest, an instinct, something older than words—this is devastation of the best kind. This is undoing and remaking. This is ensuring that no other child suffers a hollowed-out boyhood the way he did. This is his heart, raw and aching, spilling over with love too vast to contain. With so many people to give it to.

For Lan Wangji, who will be there, always. Who will feed the ducks because Wei Ying asks him to, who will wear hideous sweaters because Wei Ying knits them, who will stare down anyone who dares to scoff at Wei Ying’s art—and make sure they never do it again. To Lan Wangji, this is everything. He had known, from that fateful day in the park, when Wei Ying knelt and reached out a hand, that their guest room would never be a guest room again. That his uncle would be a great-uncle. That he would love this child as his own, with all that he is, with all that he will ever be.

If fate was a loom, perhaps a younger Lan Wangji would have woven himself a quieter life. A simple, unobtrusive thread, neat and pale. But this thread was spun golden, and it glittered in the sun, bright and unashamed. And Lan Wangji—

Lan Wangji has always reached for the light.

I feel like I get more incoherent with every post I make, for some reason. Lemme know what you think!

@xiaokuer-schmetterling, @undercover-stories, @sun-ashes, I am suffering. This is my 117th W.I.P. Grace me with some of your holy wisdom. Have mercy on the child. :((((

#wangxian #lan zhan #wei ying #a yuan #i will give them a happy story or throttle fate trying #they will be happy or so help me god #i will storm up to the gates of heaven myself and demand payment for the suffering they've given #never mind that i choose to write that suffering‚ more often than not #SEMANTCS #wangxian fic idea #mdzs #mo dao zu shi

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thebigbadbatswife · 1 day ago

Text

I Don't Know How It Gets Better Than This

Pairing - Bruce Wayne x F!Reader Stay Like This Forever Masterlist

Warnings - 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, Unprotected sex, Creampie, Multiple orgasms, Porn with feelings, Elements of Soft Dom!Bruce Wayne and praise kink, Established relationship, Older man/Younger woman, Age Gap, Tooth-rotting fluff, Humour, Valentine's Day

Summary - Bruce surprises you the best Valentine’s Day you’ve ever had.

A/N - A day late, but it's here! As promised! Also, as with all fics within this 'verse, this is a complete stand alone and doesn't require any thing else to be read to be enjoyed <3

Word Count - 4.7k

You frown as you get into the back of the car that’s waiting for you, just outside of the airport. Your eyes are glued to the bright screen of your phone as you fumble with the seatbelt.

It’s been ten hours since your last text to Bruce and he hasn’t even read it yet.

Is he upset with you? It’s your first Valentines as a couple and you haven’t been able to spend the day together because work has kept you away. It’s a couple hours from midnight now and you have only just got back to Gotham.

Should you call him? Not replying to your text is very out of character of Bruce. Even when he’s been upset in the past, he’s always been upfront about it with you about it. For him to suddenly change…

Something else is going on, so you decide that you are going to give him a call. The line doesn’t even ring. Instead you’re sent directly to his voicemail.

Now you are starting to get worried about him.

“Everything alright, Miss…?” your driver, Tom, asks you. He’s been your driver for the longest time and he’s one of the few people that you know you can trust.

“Bruce hasn’t replied to my text and his phone went straight to voicemail,” you reply.

“Shall I drive you to Wayne Manor instead?”

You shake your head as you scroll through your contact list. “No, my apartment is fine. I’m going to call Alfred. He might know what’s going on.”

“Of course.”

You bring your phone back up to your ear as the line rings. Unconsciously, your leg starts to bounce as you wait for an answer. After the third ring, someone picks up the phone.

“Hello?” Alfred’s voice comes over the phone.

“Alfred! Thank goodness, I’m so sorry. I know it’s really late. I just. Bruce, he isn’t answering my texts and his phone went straight to voicemail.”

“Master Bruce left the Manor a few hours ago. Oh my, it would seem that he’s left his phone here.”

You laugh softly, relief rushing through you. “Of course he has. Okay, that’s good to know. Get him to call me when you see him next?”

“I will see that he does. Have a good night Miss…”

“Goodnight Alfred.”

You set your phone into your lap and sigh. He’s not upset with you, like you had been panicking about. He just forgot about his phone. Though it isn’t like him to be so absentminded. You remember him mentioning being concerned about a killer by the name of Calendar Man, but Alfred hadn’t mentioned Bruce going out tonight in his cape and cowl. And you’re sure that he would have.

What was he doing tonight?

As the car drives through the streets of Gotham, you find your gaze focusing on the rooftops. Ever since you figured out what it is that your boyfriend does at night, you find your focus often drawn above you. Wondering if you’ll catch a glimpse of him.

The drive from the airport to your apartment isn’t super long, thankfully. Before you know it, you’re climbing out of the car, accepting your bag from Tom and thanking him and making your way up to your apartment.

When you open the door to your apartment the first thing that you notice is the rose petals on the floor. The next thing you notice is all of the candles, casting a golden glow over your home.

The biggest smile that you’ve ever had makes its way onto your face as you take in the sight of what Bruce has done. It’s no wonder to you now why he forgot about his phone. He was busy setting all of this up for you.

You shut the door behind you, making sure to lock and chain it, and set your bag down onto the floor, alongside your suitcase.

Following the rose petals, they lead you to the dining room. The table is set. There’s a single flower vase with a red rose sitting inside of it and two empty wine glasses, waiting to be filled. The bottle of wine that sits next to them looks like it might have some dust on it, but it’s hard to tell in the candlelight.

In the centre of it all, standing there and waiting for you, is Bruce. Looking like the picture of perfection.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says as he approaches you. His hand comes to rest on your hip as he pulls you toward him, which you protest against.

“Don’t! I need a shower; I’m all gross from the plane,” you complain as you push against him.

He chuckles softly. “I don’t care. I want to kiss my girl.”

You give in and let him pull you flush against his body. He kisses you in that soft and sweet way that always sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach as your heart skips. You grip his suit jacket as you kiss him back. Your tongue gently prods at his bottom lip, seeking more from him, which Bruce gladly gives you.

You pull away first, your smile immediately returning. “You didn’t have to do all this, baby,” you say softly.

“Of course I did. You deserve to have a nice Valentines,” he replies.

His words shouldn’t hit like they do, but you can feel yourself getting choked up. You haven’t had a great track record when it comes to past relationships. Something that Bruce keeps doing his best to make up for. Hiding your face away from him, you halfheartedly shove against his chest again.

“Stop, you’re going to make me cry.”

Bruce’s arms wrap around you, hugging you tightly. “So long as they’re happy tears. That’s all I’m going to accept tonight.”

You laugh and you look up at him. Now he’s looking at you in that way that sends your heart haywire, warmth blooming in your chest. His thumb swipes away a tear that’s slowly making its way down your cheek.

“Dinner still needs a little bit longer, so why don’t you go and take that shower?”

“Okay.”

He gives you one more kiss, drawing a soft noise from you before he finally lets you go. You pause when you reach the doorway and look back at him. There is one thing that has been nagging at you ever since you walked through the door and saw the petals.

“How’d you know that I would be back in time?”

He shrugs. “Because I’m Batman.”

You shake your head and laugh. “That’s the answer you’re really going for?”

“It hasn’t failed me yet. Now, go, shower! Or dinner will be ready and cold before you get out.”

“Alright, alright! I’m going!”

The hot water feels great as it cascades over your body. After the long day that you’ve had, it’s very much needed. A part of you almost expects Bruce to join you, but you’re not disappointed when he doesn’t. You’d prefer that he keeps his eyes on dinner and not burn your apartment down because he’s busy having sex with you.

Besides, you’re sure that there will be plenty of that after dinner.

You switch the water off and wrap a towel around your body. When you enter your bedroom, you find a dress laid out on your bed, waiting for you. It’s in your favourite colour and there’s a matching set of heels, sitting in an opened shoe box. As well as that there’s a couple of velvet jewellery cases.

He didn’t.

You pick up the smaller case and open it. Inside are a pair of diamond and sapphire earrings. You’re already sure that, in the bigger case, is a matching necklace.

Even though you’ve told him he doesn’t have to, Bruce does love to buy you gifts. Though, if this is what he’s buying you for Valentine’s Day, you can’t imagine what he might do for your birthday.

Once you’re dry and dressed, you look at yourself in the mirror. Your makeup doesn’t do your outfit justice. It’s simpler than what you would have normally done, but you don’t have the time right now.

A delicious scent is wafting into your bedroom, from the kitchen, and it’s making your stomach growl.

If Bruce notices your toned down makeup, he doesn’t say a thing as you re-enter the dining room. His eyes take in the sight of you as he swallows thickly. Honestly, you’re convinced you could walk in wearing a burlap sack and he would still look at you the exact same way.

He gets up from his seat and walks over to you again.

“Look at you. Absolutely beautiful,” he says.

“Thank you. You really didn’t have to buy me all of this.”

“I know, but you deserve to be spoiled. And I will take every chance I get to do exactly that.”

The moment is completely ruined by your stomach as it growls. Bruce chuckles and starts to lead you toward the table.

“Come on, I made your favourite.”

Once you’ve taken a seat, he pushes your chair in before taking his own seat. Your table isn’t huge like the one back at Wayne Manor. So you’re not miles from each other as he sits opposite of you. In fact, his knee presses against your own.

The food looks amazing. The smell alone making your mouth watering as your stomach growls again. You tuck in immediately. Just as the first bite passes your lips, a moan leaves you.

It tastes incredible. Of course, you expect nothing less from Bruce. He’s an excellent cook, when he has the time to dedicate to it. That being one of the things you learned early on, after the first night you had spent together.

The conversation between you two consists of Bruce asking about your day. Which you enthusiastically tell him about your new castmates and the script and how, for the first time in a long time, you’re actually excited about acting again. While you ask him about his biggest worry that he had mention, to which he tells you that Julian Day was caught earlier by the police. And both Arkham and Blackgate are quiet so there’s no worry about the Bat Signal pulling him away.

He’s all yours.

When dinner’s finished, and you’ve got a couple of glasses of wine in your system, you decide to skip desert. Right now, all you want is Bruce.

From the dining room, you and Bruce move to the living room. Where he’s settled on the sofa with you straddling his lap as you make out. His tongue slides across your own, exploring every inch of your mouth. Meanwhile his hands remain high up on your waist, making no move to feel you up like you want him to.

It makes no sense to you considering that you can feel how hard he is. Even the smallest shift from you has him twitching in his pants. You decide to take things into your own hands.

From where your arms are wrapped around his neck, you slide a hand down his front, headed straight for his pants. Just before your finger tips come into contact with his belt, his hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Am I not moving fast enough for you, princess?” he asks. The nickname sends a shiver down your spine, your body remembering all the things he’s done with you, and to you, after using it.

You shake your head. “Not even close, babe.”

“I don’t want to rush things. Besides, I love kissing you and I haven’t been able to do it enough these last few weeks.”

His words are sweet, making your cheeks heat up and warmth bloom throughout your body that isn’t due to the alcohol in your veins or your growing arousal. You kiss his jawline, following it toward his ear.

“There are other parts of me you can kiss, you know,” you whisper.

“All in good time, sweet girl.”

Bruce directs your face back toward him so that he can resume kissing you. The hand that had hold of your wrist is now on the back of your back, keeping you right where he wants you. Meanwhile, the hand that’s on your waist starts to move away.

His hand slides down your side, coming down to rest on your thigh. Which he squeezes gently. As his tongue reenters your mouth, Bruce’s fingers slide beneath your dress, trailing up the inside of your thigh. All of your focus is now on his hand. The feeling of his calloused finger tips against your soft, smooth skin sends goosebumps erupting across your skin.

The closer he gets to where you want him most, the more you start to ache with need. Just before he reaches your panties, he starts to move away again, trailing his fingers back toward your knee.

You whine against his lips, frustration starting to build up inside of you. He was so close! So close to finally giving you what you wanted! Why’d he stop? Bruce simply smirks as he continues to run his fingers up and down your leg.

“You’re very needy tonight, princess,” he coos. “I’d better fix that, huh?”

“Please,” you whine.

Bruce shushes you softly. His fingers trail back up your legs, dragging them slowly along the inside of your leg.

His touch remains featherlight, but your body still jolts when he finally pushes his fingers against your panties. Right where your clitoris is. Gently, he starts to rub you through the soaked fabric.

Even the lightest touch feels amazing, pleasure already thrumming through you. Your lips part as a breathy moan of his name leaves you.

“No wonder you’re so needy. You’re absolutely soaked, sweetheart.”

“It’s your fault,” you tell him. “You make me like this.”

He hums and nods in agreement. “I had better look after you then, hmmm?”

“Please.”

You expect him to either slide your panties to the side or rip them off of you completely, but he does neither. Instead he keeps touching you through them. The only thing he changes is that he starts to use his thumb instead of his fingers.

He kisses you again as he rubs circles against your clit, swallowing your moans. His free hand comes up from your waist and upwards to cup and grope your breasts through your dress.

You roll your hips, chasing after your pleasure that’s building up way faster than you thought that it would. But it’s really no wonder with how well Bruce knows your body. Knowing exactly how to touch you, both the pressure and speed needed to get you to your climax.

“Fuck,” you gasp. There’s no doubt in your mind that, with how quickly you’re approaching your end, that it’s feeding his ego.

“You going to be a good girl and come for me?” he asks. He applies some more pressure, his rubbing becoming more insistent.

Your breath is now coming out in short puffs as you can feel the tension coiling inside of you more and more. You’re so close. So fucking close, if he just keeps touching you like that…

Your fingers grip his suit jacket like it’s your lifeline as your body shakes. Bruce talks you through it. His words filled with encouragement and praise as your orgasm rocks through you.

Just as it starts to become way too much for you, he pulls his hand away. Your forehead comes to rest against his shoulder, your body still shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. He rubs your leg. Pressing soft kisses to the side of your neck and cheek, as you come down.

“Always such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You make a soft noise of agreement as your eyes close for a moment. Enjoying the feeling of the random patterns being traced and his lips on your skin.

As your breathing calms down, you turn your head and capture his lips with your own again. At the same time, your hand trails back down his body. Following the exact same path as earlier.

He doesn’t stop you this time. You press your hand against the tent in his pants. A low groan leaves Bruce as you touch him. The sound making your pussy clench around nothing, sending another wave of arousal through you.

Fuck, you need him inside of you.

“I think we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggest, pulling away.

His eyes are dark, that steely blue of his iris a thin line against his pupil. While there is a light blush across his cheeks, which stands out a fair bit against his pale skin.

“Definitely.”

Once he’s made sure your grip on him is secure, he stands up, bringing you with him. As he carries you toward the bedroom, you press kisses to his jaw and neck. Even going as far as to gently bite and suck on his neck, leaving behind a few lovebites in your wake.

They’re in a rather visible spot, unless he wears a turtleneck. He, honestly, might just end up covering it up with the same makeup he uses to cover up the worst of the bruises he earns each night as Batman. Deep down, you hope that he doesn’t. You want him to show them off. Remind everyone that he’s all yours.

Though, with how the media continues talking about you both, they likely don’t need it.

When you get to the bedroom, he sets you down. His hand quickly locates the zipper for your dress and, very slowly, he starts to pull it down. The action surprises you. You had expected him to rip it from you like he’s done to every other dress that he’s previously bought you. Bruce chuckles.

“I love the way this dress looks on you far too much to ruin it just yet,” he says.

“Oh, I see. So I only get to keep dresses based on how you feel about them?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. “Do you want me to ruin it?”

“No! I’m just in mourning over the other ones.”

He laughs, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they shine with amusement. He kisses the tip of your nose. “I will buy a replacement for each one I’ve ruined, okay? Now, come on.”

With your dress fully unzipped, he eases it off of your shoulders and lets it fall into a pile on the floor, around your feet. He helps you step out of it and pushes you back toward the bed.

“Lay down,” he instructs you.

You dutifully follow his order, settling down onto the bed. As you get comfortable, Bruce strips himself of his suit jacket and shirt. You drag your eyes down his body. Appreciating how well toned his body is. The scars that litter his body add to his sexiness.

“Enjoying the view?” he teases you.

“Only fair considering you keep ogling my boobs,” you reply. The entire time he’s been undressing his top half, his eyes have kept glancing over, landing on your chest more often than not. Not that you mind. You like it when he’s ogling your body. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t have some fun.

“Well, I know your name now.”

His reply makes you shake your head as it prompts the memory of the night you first met him. Your dress had been completely scandalous that night, yet he had not looked at your chest once; claiming that doing so would be rude since he didn’t even know your name.

You cross your arms over your boobs, hiding them from his view, pretending to be annoyed with him.

“That’s it. No more boobs for you.”

Bruce chuckles as he shakes his head. He comes over to the bed and climbs onto the bed, draping his body over yours as he settles between your legs. He nuzzles his face against your neck. His kisses turn into light bites as he trails them down your skin.

He nibbles at your collarbone, sending a shiver down your spine and making it really hard to keep your act up. When he reaches where your arms are still crossed against your chest, he kisses along the length of one of your forearms before pulling away.

Supporting himself with one hand, he uses the other to gently pry your arms apart. You don’t do anything to fight him on it, letting him open your arms and reveal your breasts to him again.

“There you are.”

He litters your chest with kisses and lovebites. Starting at the top of one and trailing his way to the underside. His bites turn into licks as he gets closer to your nipple. Bruce swirls his tongue around the hardened bud before finally taking it into his mouth and starts to suck.

You arch your back into his touch, a short gasp, bordering on a moan, leaving you. Like the tentative boyfriend that he is, he doesn’t neglect your other breast, using his free hand to squeeze and play with it. He lavishes your chest in affection. Kissing, biting and licking his way to the other. Where he repeats his actions.

“Bruce,” you moan softly as you run your fingers through his hair, messing it up. You shift your hips beneath him, grinding against his cock. Your actions draw a deep groan from him and he rocks his hips into yours. Letting you know that two can play at that game.

He only stops so that he can trail his kisses down your body, past your naval and toward your truly soaked panties. He presses a firm kiss to your clit through the fabric, making you sharply inhale. Bruce doesn’t stop there. Instead he kisses and bites the inside of both of your thighs.

You love the sight of him between your legs. Whether it’s him eating you out or kissing where your thighs are most sensitive. His hair messy and pupils blown wide. Even better if his chin and mouth is shiny with your slick. It’s one of the best sights in the world to you. You wouldn’t mind keeping him there forever.

Deft fingers undo the buckles of your heels before sliding them off of your feet and letting them fall to the floor with a thud. As soon as they’re gone, your panties quickly follow as Bruce rips the fabric, as if it’s paper, and gets rid of them. You don’t care. Anything is good as long as it gets him inside of you faster. The longer that he draws this out, the more desperate that you are starting to become.

The ache between your legs is becoming unbearable as your clitoris throbs, begging for more attention from him. You want, no, you need him inside of you. You need to feel him stretching you open as he fills you up, making you feel impossible full.

“Brucie?” you call softly. He looks up at you from where he’s been drinking in the sight of the mess that your arousal and earlier orgasm have made of you.

“Yes, princess?”

“I need to feel you inside of me. Please? Please, fuck me?”

You don’t even need to beg him for it. The way that he’s looking at you and how hard his cock feels against you. He was likely about to make a move to finally start fucking you to begin with. You just begged before he could make that move.

With a speed that would be impressive if he wasn’t Batman, Bruce removes the rest of his clothing. He drapes his body back over yours, lining himself up with your entrance.

There was a time when you used to be nervous about his size; he’s the biggest you’ve ever had after all. Now though? Now you wrap a leg around his waist and pull him down for another kiss as he starts to slowly slide into you.

You’re so wet that he easily enters you, bottoming out immediately. He feels absolutely amazing. Stretching your pussy and filling you up exactly the way that you want him to. Your head falls backwards, onto the pillow, as you moan.

“That feels better, doesn’t it, princess?” he coos softly. He’s stilled, letting you adjust to his size, like he always does.

“Yes,” you reply, along with a nod. It really does. It’s insane how good he makes you feel.

As soon as you give him the go ahead to move, he does. Slowly he pulls out of you, leaving only the tip inside, before pushing back in. Each time he makes sure he’s hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you, drawing more moans from you.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Let me hear you,” he murmurs. He’s back to nuzzling and kissing your neck and jaw.

You could stay here, in this moment, forever. Your bodies tangled up together, joined as one. Bruce slowly fucking you as his fingers played with your clit.

Tonight has been something like you might read in some romance novel or see in some movie. At the same time they all paled in comparison. The real thing always being better.

Bringing your hands to his shoulders and push lightly. If Bruce didn’t want to move, he wouldn’t, but he follows your lead. Flipping your positions so that you are now on top.

A deep groan leaves him as you start to bounce on his cock, your hands flat against his chest to support yourself. His hands are on your thighs, stroking them with his thumbs as he watches you ride him.

“Look at you. You look absolutely amazing sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained as he speaks. Much like earlier, his eyes are trained on your boobs, which bounce with each roll of your hips, along with the jewels around your neck. “You always look so good riding my cock.”

You laugh softly, which quickly turns into a moan. You can feel yourself getting close again. Your pussy squeezing and fluttering around his cock while the coil inside of you grows tighter and tighter. Bruce is getting close as well. While before he was holding back his moans, wanting to hear you instead, he’s growing more vocal as he starts to thrust up into you.

His thumb returns to your clit, sending you tumbling over the edge. You cry his name as your pussy clamps down onto him. Bruce falls over that edge with you, the way your squeezing him making it impossible for him not to, and he comes deep inside of you.

Boneless and spent, it’s easy for him to get you to lay on his chest. Both of you panting hard and becoming the only sound that can now be heard in the bedroom.

The feeling of him running random patterns against your back and the steady beating of his heart in your ear, soothes you. Almost sending you straight to sleep. It is rather late at night and you were previously on a long flight. You’re tired.

Before you can, you pull away from Bruce, muttering that you need the bathroom when he goes to stop you.

While you're in there, you make sure to remove your makeup and the expensive jewels he bought you, settling them back into their cases.

When you’ve finished up and re-enter the bedroom you come back to Bruce waiting for you with a glass of water and a slice of the cheesecake that had originally been for desert.

Grateful, you accept the glass and take a sip, before settling onto his lap like he wants you to. Bruce offers you a bite of the cheesecake which, again, you accept, groaning at the rich taste of it.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” he asks you, as if the answer isn’t the most obvious thing in the world.

“Tonight was perfect, Bruce. Thank you.”

“Anything for my girl,” he tells you. The kiss is soft and sweet; you smile into it. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

There really aren’t enough words in the world for you to describe or tell him how much you love him. Something tells you that it’s the same for him as well.

The cheesecake slice is shared between the two of you. He continues to feed you each bite. Once the plate is empty, he sets it down the nightstand. Bruce moves you both down the bed, getting you settled against his chest and pulls the covers up over you both.

You snuggle against him, your focus returning to his heartbeat as you let your eyes close this time and fall fast asleep, in the arms of your lover.

You don’t know how life can get much better than this.

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