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thoughtfulfiction · 5 days ago

Text

Friend zone? End zone.

Author’s note: Anon requested🧡

July

Packing everything up and moving to France with no idea where you'd live or how you were going to make money, to study under some of the most well known pastry giants in the world was...crazy. But somehow, opening up your own bake shop in Cincinnati felt even more like you were losing the last hold on your sanity. You didn't know anyone here, no friends or family nearby, but Velvet Clementine was your dream. And today, the dream smelled like vanilla, caramelized sugar, and the bright zest of fresh clementines, located in the middle of the Queen City. You had your own staff, granted it was four people but still, you were the owner, the boss, of your very own place.

Cincinnati had been your home for six weeks when the bell chimed, and two men—tall enough to make your display case look like a dollhouse—ducked into the shop. They moved with effortless confidence, their voices a low rumble of laughter as they scanned the display case with the focus of someone choosing their last meal. You watched them pile on various pastries, looking through the rows of mini pain au chocolat, almond croissants and pastel de nata. The mini fruit tarts featuring clementines and red velvet cakes were the items that made you fall in love with baking, hence the name of the place. The shorter man reached for a tart, its glossy colorful slices glistening under the bakery lights, nestled in a bed of creamy white chocolate mousse. You watched as the other one picked up a croissant, giving it a slight squeeze—a soft crackle of delicate layers breaking beneath his fingers. They seemed satisfied with their various selections, happily walking over to the register, the tall one flashing his almost sinfully perfect smile as he paid for everything. You thanked them for coming in and sent them on their way.

"You can't be serious, how did you not say anything?" Your sous chef Quinn let out a breath she had probably been holding since the two guys walked through the door.

"What are you talking about?"

She scoffed, remembering the fact that you’d lived in Europe the last few years so their presence didn’t hold much weight. She tossed a dish towel over her shoulder as she turned to face you, “they’re Bengals, babe. Like, literal football gods. Also, it helps that they’re stupidly attractive."

You hummed, processing everything she just threw at you. "Well, that part I did notice. And they’re freakishly...big. Good thing we made extras of everything, because I think they just wiped out half the front shelf."

Quinn laughed, stepping around you to check for herself. "I have a shelf they can—sorry."

"Okay easy tiger,” you let out a laugh, “they're gone. Are we still on for drinks tonight?"

"Oh absolutely, I definitely need a martini or three after seeing the best receiving duo in the game, in person. My boyfriend is actually going to lose his mind when I tell him."

You shake your head with a smile on your face, walking back to the kitchen to restock, the scent of butter and cocoa bean filling the air as you slip behind the counter to arrange the freshly baked tarts.

Much to your surprise, they were back three days later. The door sounded again, and the tall one walked up to you, his broad shoulders barely fitting in the doorway. "I'm Tee."

"Hi Tee," you smile, surprised. "Didn't expect to see you back so soon. Or your friend over there." Tee turns around to find Ja'Marr loading up on cheesecakes this time, not paying attention to anything else. The sight of him, mouth half-full of a pastry, causes you to chuckle.

"I didn't either but...damn. You the owner?"

You nod, hesitant but flattered.

"Excuse my language, but yo, this shit fire—like man. We had to come get some more. Everything’s made fresh, from... scratch?"

"Yeah, every morning I get here at like 5:30 and we bake everything. From scratch."

Ja'marr appears next to him, holding a mini crème brulee. "You are VERY good at your job. You'll be seeing a lot of us now that we're back for the season. Swear you weren't here when I left Cincy, how long you been here?"

"Stop, it's not that great.” You wave him off as he continues to nod profusely, holding up his latest find with wild eyes as you laugh again. “And I've been here a little over a month, just moved to Cincinnati actually."

"From?" Ja'Marr pipes up, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

"France, lived there for a few years to perfect my pastry skills and really focus on my craft."

"That's crazy, I just got back from Paris for Fashion Week. The food was amazing and looks like the classes worked cause you definitely know what you're doing."

"Thank you guys. And spread the word will you? I heard you two are kind of a big deal around here."

"Something like that, we appreciate you for these," Tee flashes a wide grin, holding up the bag as he thanks you one more time, "you'll see us back here soon."

The next day they returned the favor and since you'd been feeding them, they wanted to take you to a special spot downtown to really introduce you to the city. Of course you brought Quinn with you. Her boyfriend didn't believe this was actually happening until he Facetimed her and saw the guys for himself. It was nice to finally feel like you'd met people you got along with without having to try to be anyone but yourself. Over the next few weeks while exploring the Cincinnati food scene, you found out that Tee and Ja'marr were funny, sweet and kind, just two guys enjoying the last few weeks of the offseason before training camp ramped up. Both of them were in the midst of contract negotiations, having to explain to you the ins and outs of NFL life. They appreciated that you didn't care about their status and never asked unless they started the conversation and you loved having people around that made this city feel so much less like a foreign country.

Ja'Marr strolled in one morning with a grin, practically bouncing on his feet as he leaned across the counter. "Hey, so listen...you gotta make those mini cakes for my housewarming on Saturday. I mean, you have to be there, since we’re your best friends now and all. It’s only right."

Quinn, who had been wiping down the counter, stopped mid-motion and squinted at him. "Excuse me? So now I’m invisible? You’re just gonna act like I wasn’t the one keeping her entertained before you waltzed in with your designer sweatpants and phenomenal taste in bakeries? Some people." She shakes her head in mock disbelief.

Ja'Marr smirked, completely unbothered. "Anyway, Imma ignore that. Jealous isn't a good look on you Quinn." He quickly turns his attention back to you, "so...you'll be there Saturday right? I'll text you the address."

"Yes, I'll be there."

"And so will I, since we wanna exclude people from the conversation." Quinn adds in from behind you.

Ja'Marr, clearly pleased with his victory, flashed a grin as he turned to leave. "Speaking in third person? You know what I'll just see y'all Saturday." Before heading out, he shot you one more look over his shoulder. "Don’t forget, mini cakes."

As he walked out, Quinn glanced at you, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Looks like you’ve got some serious new friends now, huh?"

"We," you correct her, "we have some serious friends new friends now."

As a business owner, you prided yourself in being a professional. Even at your friend's party, you wanted to be more than on time and make the cakes look as pretty as possible. Quinn had joined you in the last-minute preparations, both of you arriving an hour before the gathering started to get things in order. The large living room was already buzzing—caterers setting up a lavish buffet, trays full of appetizers being placed on side tables. Some of Ja'Marr’s friends, who you assumed were visiting from Louisiana, lounged in the corner, their laughs echoing over the low hum of video game sound effects.

You and Quinn worked in tandem, setting the delicate mini cakes on a table near the center, the soft scent of the various flavors filled the room as you arranged the treats just so. You hadn’t even noticed Ja'Marr and Tee walking towards you until Ja'Marr's voice cut through the conversation.

"You brought my favorite ones, that’s so sweet. I am gonna tear. These. Up." His grin was wide as he took in the display of your pastries while wiggling his fingers.

"Be classy, please," you teased, glancing at him, "we don’t want your neighbors thinking a wild animal moved in next door."

"Nah, it’s cool," Ja'Marr shrugged nonchalantly, glancing down to check his phone. "I think one of the neighbors just got here."

The door clicked open, and in walked a tall figure. Your breath caught slightly in your chest as your gaze followed the man’s movement. His striking blue eyes swept across the room, a faraway intensity to his expression that made it seem like he was seeing more than just the people around him. There was a quiet confidence to his posture, the kind of calm authority that made him impossible to miss. His light brown hair, a little tousled in that effortless, perfect way, gave him the air of someone who had just stepped out of a high-end catalog.

"Burrow!" Ja'Marr exclaimed, his voice shifting into an easy familiarity. "Damn...I’m really surprised you here. Didn’t think you were leaving the house for a year after your little world tour."

"We went to the same country," Joe replied, his voice steady and slightly dry. "And it was just one." He gave Ja'Marr a side hug, but the moment was strange—a quick pinky shake that made you tilt your head, wondering what it meant. Something about it felt oddly intimate.

Ja’Marr turned his attention to you. "You remember that bakery we been tellin' you about? This is Y/N, the owner. We kinda best friends now so you need to get used to seeing her around. And that's Quinn, they're a package deal."

"Nice to meet you both." Joe’s voice was smooth, but there was a slight tension in the air as he extended his hand.

You reached for it, but Quinn—who had been standing beside you—was frozen. Her eyes were wide, staring at Joe like he was some kind of myth brought to life. The words she'd been about to say caught in her throat, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to process the moment. The seconds stretched on, but she didn't seem able to move, her usual confidence wiped away by her starstruck shock.

You nudged her lightly with your elbow, snapping her back to reality. She blinked, her expression changing in an instant. “Sorry,” she said quickly, her voice higher-pitched than usual as she shook Joe’s hand. “It’s just—um—I'm, like, a huge fan. My boyfriend, too. He’s gonna lose his shit when I tell him I met Joe Burrow.”

Joe’s eyebrow raised slightly, a small, amused smile pulling at his lips as he noticed her flustered reaction. He let out a soft chuckle. "Well, nice to meet you, Quinn."

You laughed softly, shaking your head at Quinn, trying to play it off while feeling your own pulse steadily increasing. Quinn, still flushed from her sudden nervousness, was no longer frozen but her eyes were still glued to Joe, unable to hide the awe on her face.

"Okay, now that we've got that out of the way," Ja'Marr said, clearly enjoying the shift in energy. "I know you don't play about your diet but when I tell you these cakes are the best thing I've ever put in my body? I'm being serious."

Before you can roll your eyes or downplay it, the homeowner stops you. "Don't even think about it, I don't wanna hear none of that. We just need to get him to try one."

Joe grabs one with a Biscoff cookie on top and takes a bite, completely unfazed by the fact that everyone is watching. "Wow, this is. This is incredible. I get why they won't shut up about your place. This is really good."

"Thank you," you laugh softly, trying to push down the weird sense of nervousness pooling in your chest. "And thanks for breaking your strict diet to try it, that means a lot."

He nods and more people start to show up so Ja'Marr leaves to greet them and Tee grabs a few tiny cakes for himself, Quinn asking him if he wants a plate. Everyone moved on from the previous conversation but as you made eye contact with Joe, something unexpected happened—a flicker of recognition, of something unspoken, passing between the two of you. His gaze held yours for just a heartbeat longer than usual, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the room had melted away. Although you didn’t really want to, you ignored that feeling and focused on enjoying the night.

You and Quinn moved around the party, getting to know different groups of people, mingling with different players on the team, their significant others and she had to explain to you who all these people were. Of course you'd heard the names before, the buzz around the city the closer the players got to training camp and to the season actually starting. But if years in Europe had taught you anything, it was that sports fans are obsessively dedicated and somehow now you had also become an honorary Bengals fan because of Ja'Marr and Tee. And you couldn't wait to cheer them on. But right now? You couldn't wait to be home and in bed.

The exhaustion of the being up since 4:30 in the morning was continuously creeping up on you. The noise and the laughter mixing with the smells of rich food and the clinking of glasses was all becoming a bit too much after a long week of work. Your mind was constantly racing, your body tired and your spirit longed for some peace and quiet.

You slipped outside into the cool evening air, the chill of the night sky a welcome relief from the heat of the crowded room you'd successfully slipped out of. The city buzzed faintly in the distance, but it felt like a different world out here, away from the chatter and the constant movement.

You leaned against the porch railing, closing your eyes for a moment to just breathe.

The door clicked open behind you, and for some reason you knew exactly who it was. His presence was unmistakable.

“Didn’t expect you to be out here,” Joe’s voice was low, a little gruff but soft in the quiet of the night.

You didn’t answer right away, too focused on the quiet of the moment to form any words. You’d seen Joe around the party—he’d been laughing and chatting, looking perfectly at ease, but now he seemed... different. There was something in the way he stood, in the way he gazed at the horizon, that told you his social battery had run out just like yours had.

“You all good?” Joe asked after a beat, his voice a little more concerned than you expected.

You nodded, finally turning to face him. “Yeah. Just needed a minute. It’s...a lot, sometimes, you know? New city, new life, always on the go.”

Joe looked at you for a long moment, as though weighing something in his mind. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I’ve had days where I just need to...step away for a second. Guess we both needed some air, huh?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony. Two people who seemed like they could handle anything, both seeking a quiet moment to themselves, at the same time. You glanced at him, noting the way his hands were shoved deep in his pockets, his jaw slightly tense. He wasn’t trying to fill the silence with empty words or forced jokes, and for that, you appreciated it.

Neither of you spoke for a while, just standing there in the cool night air, the sounds of the party muffled behind the door. For the first time, you felt the world slow down a little.

Joe shifted, and you glanced over, catching the faintest flicker of a smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Tee and Ja’Marr won’t shut up about you. Guess it’s my turn to see what all the hype is about."

You smiled back, the moment stretching on, neither of you in a rush to move. "Hope I don’t disappoint."

Ja'Marr had you over a few nights later to go over some film with you to get you ready for "the most important season of your life." Tee walked into the living room holding an iPad full of notes, including the presumed depth chart for week 1. Joe sat on the opposite couch, a water bottle on the table in front of him. They gave you a rundown on what everybody's role is on the team starting with Joe.

"He's QB1, you know. Heart of the team, he's our leader." The more he talked, the more it sounded like he was reciting wedding vows to his quarterback, who looked like he was bored out of his mind. You glanced over at him, but he didn’t react, just sipped his water and let Ja’Marr ramble on. You had barely spoken to him all day—just small glances here and there without taking it any further.

The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that.

Finally, you spoke up. "You're not a man of many words, are you?"

Joe barely looked up as he responded, "Depends on who it is and what they're asking." His tone was casual, but there was a weight to it, like he didn’t give away words freely. Like almost every human interaction he had was a secret interview prying into his personal life.

"Okay, well, you've attended three sessions of my exclusive Bengals 101 class, and you've barely said a word," you pointed out, shifting on the couch to face him. "But yet, every day, you're here."

"I love football," he said simply, taking another sip of water. Then he set the bottle down, finally looking at you. "And I would hate for the newest football fan of the crew to be confused in the middle of the Jungle."

"Is that what they call it? The Jungle?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at the fact that he may have just cracked a joke.

Joe gave you a half-smirk and nodded. "It gets pretty wild, Y/N," he said, standing up and patting you lightly on the back as he walked past. "You better be ready."

He always kept interactions short, never going out of his way to talk to you in group settings, refusing to join the group chat that Tee had created with you, Ja'Marr, and Quinn. Instead of treating him like an onion who needed to be peeled, you just went with it and tried to lean in and embrace his dry sense of humor.

One night, you plopped down next to him on the couch. "Hey," you said casually, tilting your head to study him. "I was just wondering—do you ever smile? Like, unprompted? Or do you just reserve happy Joe for the comfort of your gigantic house when you're alone watching SpongeBob reruns?"

Joe turned his head slightly, his lips twitching into a smirk before he quickly looked away, trying to hide it.

Too bad for him—you caught every second of it.

A few hours later, as you cleaned up after another “film session”, you caught Joe watching you from across the room. Not in an obvious way—more like he was trying to figure something out, like you were a broken play he was seeing on his tablet.

He left without saying much, as always. You figured he preferred sticking to his usual routine—keeping his world small, guarded and unbelievably predictable.

So, when you saw him on the other side of Quinn's door after days of radio silence holding several bags of food, you almost dropped the bottle of wine in your hand.

"You know, you probably shouldn't have tipped that delivery guy. He just handed me these bags when I told him I was coming up here. I could've just been some horrible person stealing a perfectly good breakup recovery meal."

"I think because you're...you know—you? He probably would've handed you anything. I’m surprised he didn't ask for a selfie."

“Oh, he did,” Joe deadpanned, shifting the bags in his arms. “I signed the receipt instead. How's Quinn?"

"Honestly? She said she saw it coming, but it still sucks. You can come in."

Before long, everyone had found a spot, the coffee table now covered in takeout containers, the aroma of fried rice and lo-mein filling the air. The soft glow of the TV flickered across the dimly lit living room as Quinn sat curled up in the corner of the couch, picking at her food while Tee animatedly recounted his worst breakup story.

“At least your ex didn’t break up with you via emoji,” Tee said, waving his fork.

Ja’Marr nearly choked on his drink. “You lyin’.”

“Bro, she deadass sent me a salute emoji and just—gone.”

Quinn let out a weak laugh, shaking her head. “Okay, that’s tragic.”

“Exactly. So if I survived that, you’ll survive this.” Tee nudged her with his elbow.

The weight in the room had started to ease, the heaviness of Quinn’s breakup quickly turned into a lighter and softer energy. You sat on the couch sharing a blanket with her, almost having to force yourself into finishing your food because it was unfortunately your first real meal of the day. Joe sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his knee brushing against yours every time one of you shifted. You told yourself it was nothing.

Every once in a while, your eyes met—quick glances during a particularly funny scene, a knowing look when Ja’Marr started yelling at the TV. He was more relaxed tonight, his usual quiet guardedness giving way to something looser, something easy.

For the first time since moving to Cincinnati, you felt it. That feeling of belonging. Of finding your people.

Quinn let out an exaggerated sigh, leaning her head against your shoulder. “I guess I’ll survive.”

“You definitely will,” you reassured her, placing your hand on hers, giving it a squeeze.

Joe shifted beside you, his voice low. “You picked a hell of a crew to stick with.”

You turned your head, meeting his gaze, something unreadable in his expression.

“Could be worse,” you teased, nudging his leg slightly.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. For a second, it seemed like he might say something else—but instead, he just reached for an egg roll.

After that night, things started to shift more toward football. The usual late-night hangs became less frequent, the group chat more active with reminders about packing lists and schedules. Training camp was looming, and you could feel the weight of it, even though you weren’t the one suiting up.

One night at Ja’Marr’s, Tee stretched out on the couch, scrolling through his phone. "This is our last free weekend before camp. Y’all better soak it in.”

Quinn groaned. “Ugh. That means my social life is about to take a massive hit.”

Ja’Marr snorted. “Don’t act like we don’t have days off. We just gon be tired as hell.”

Joe wasn’t there that night—he’d taken off for a few days on his annual lake trip, something about needing to “reset.” Not that you were keeping tabs on his whereabouts or anything, but the house felt quieter without him.

Then, two nights before camp started, he walked into Ja’Marr’s house like nothing was different.

Except, everything was different.

Tee was mid-sentence when he noticed, his words dying in his throat as he squinted at Joe. “Boy, what the hell?”

Ja’Marr turned, eyes widening. "Nah. No way."

You blinked. “Did you—did you shave your head?”

Joe barely reacted, setting his keys down like this was any other day. “Yeah.”

“And bleach it?” Quinn added in, looking intrigued...and a little scared.

“Yep.”

Tee leaned forward, inspecting him like he was some rare species. “You look like a villain in a Fast & Furious movie.”

Joe smirked, rubbing a hand over his buzzed, bleach-blond head. “Perfect.”

Ja’Marr was still in shock. “Bro, what possessed you?”

Joe shrugged, completely unbothered. “Felt like it.”

You tried to stifle a laugh, shaking your head. Of course. The most dramatic change of the offseason, and he acted like it was nothing.

Quinn tilted her head, appraising him. “You know what? I don’t hate it.”

Ja’Marr ran a hand down his face, groaning. “Man, now we gotta deal with this version of Joe all season.”

Joe just grinned, casually grabbing a side salad off the counter like he hadn’t just broken everyone’s brains. Training camp hadn’t even started yet, and he was already causing chaos.

Quinn, Tee, and Ja’Marr burst out laughing, looking at each other with wide grins. "Hold up—do y'all realize what this means?" Tee pointed between them. "We all got buzzcuts now."

Ja’Marr gasped, nodding. "Oh, it’s a sign. We're about to be in sync this season. Chemistry off the charts."

Quinn snorted. "What, like you're the bald-headed Avengers?"

Tee clapped his hands. "Nah, we’re like…an Olympic relay team. Faster, stronger, better communication."

Joe shook his head, amused. "You guys are ridiculous."

"You say that now, but just wait," Ja’Marr said, stroking his chin like he was cooking up a master plan. "I'm over here manifesting greatness."

Joe just rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his food, but then he caught your expression. You were dying to say something. "Go ahead, tell me what you really think. I've heard a few. Cody Rhodes, Eminem..."

"I was gonna say a more attractive version of Jonah Hill in the 21 Jump Street flashback scenes."

Tee and Ja’Marr lost it. Ja’Marr literally had to grab the counter for support, and Tee was staggering away, gasping between wheezes. "Bro, I can see it!"

Joe stared at you, lips pressing together like he was physically restraining himself from laughing. "That’s just hurtful."

"You asked." You bit back a grin.

The chaos continued around you, but somehow, it ended up just the two of you standing there as the others got distracted by something else.

You hesitated. You shouldn’t ask. But you did.

"Why did you do it?" You tried to sound casual. "Your hair looked fine—I mean, more than fine—but… why?"

Joe leaned against the counter, arms crossing over his chest. His lips twitched like he was about to say something stupid. Then—

"I want frosted tips."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"And I’ve never seen anyone actually look good when they just go get them, so I’m doing it the natural way."

You just stared at him. "Joe. This is the most insane way to get blond highlights, and you know it."

"Sorry you feel that way," he said, totally unbothered. "But I don’t do things halfway. Go big or go home."

He said it so casually, but the way he was looking at you? That was dangerous. The kind of look that made the room feel a little too warm, made your stomach do an annoying little flip. His icy blue eyes held yours just a second too long—long enough for you to realize that you should run for your life.

Because if you stayed here any longer, you might have to admit that you were developing a teeny, tiny, completely inconvenient crush on Joe Burrow.

August

Having a crush as an adult kind of feels like you're having a heart attack. You could be completely fine one second and then suddenly your entire being was consumed with thoughts of him so vivid it made your chest hurt.

The first preseason game was finally here, giving you the perfect excuse to focus on literally anything else. Your first tailgate was an experience, that morning of the game was by far the busiest day you'd ever experienced. Pre-orders were being picked up left and right, mini pies and cheesecakes were snatched off the shelves before 11am and the only thing that remained by the time all of you left the shop at 2pm was a lone batch of cupcakes that you ended up giving away for free at the stadium. It was easy promo.

Paycor Stadium felt like magic. A chaotic, slightly unhinged kind of magic. Fans were everywhere—some already drunk, all of them decked out in orange, fully prepared to dedicate their mental health to a 53-man roster for the next several months. You just wanted to see your friends do what they loved—well, at least two of them, since Ja’Marr was in the middle of a holdout. Or, technically, a hold-in, since he was still around the building but not practicing. You were still trying to grasp the nuances of contract negotiations, and honestly, you needed a few more Bengals 101 cramming sessions to feel more confident in your abilities to explain the situation, if anyone were to ask.

Time slowed when Joe stepped onto the field. And the stadium erupted when he threw a touchdown to none other than Tee. You swore you saw a couple of fans crying, which was kind of heartwarming but also a little funny, considering they didn’t know him personally.

Joe hadn’t talked much about his wrist injury or the recovery process after surgery, and you never wanted to pry. You figured he’d open up when he was ready. But as you watched him out there, commanding the field like nothing had ever been wrong, you couldn’t help but wonder if it had been as easy as he made it look.

He commanded the field like he commanded every room he entered. You met up with him, Ja'Marr, Tee, Quinn and a bunch of his friends from Athens along with his family to gather at his house, not only because it was the beginning of the season, but it was also a new beginning for him post surgery. The celebration was on, laughter and quiet music filling every corner of the house. You couldn't really hear it, but it had to be from Joe's never ending playlist filled with Gunna and Kid Cudi songs. People drifted in and out of conversations, drinks in hand, taking in the importance of indulging in the calm before the storm of the regular season.

At some point, you found yourself in the kitchen, away from the noise, refilling your drink. You weren’t alone for long.

Joe lingered in the doorway for a second before stepping into the kitchen, leaning against the counter beside you. His presence was quiet but steady, like he was still deciding if he wanted to speak.

For a moment, the two of you stood next to each other silently. You were perfectly happy listening to the muffled sounds of the party happening in the next room. Then, finally, he exhaled, his voice low enough that it almost got lost in the noise.

“I um—I cried last night.”

You turned to him, startled by the sudden confession. His gaze stayed on the counter, fingers idly tracing the grain of the wood.

“There were nights when I thought I wouldn’t make it back here,” he admitted. “Like, really about thought it. More than I ever have before.” He swallowed hard, jaw tightening for a second before he let out a humorless laugh. “I’ve never been afraid of failure. Not really. But this time… it was different.”

You could only imagine what that felt like—to have the thing you built your whole life around suddenly feel uncertain. To sit in the unknown and not be able to do anything but wait.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted softly, shifting so you were fully facing him. “I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like for you.” You hesitated, searching for the right words. “But I do know I’m glad you’re here. That you made it through. And that I get to see you come out on the other side of it.”

Joe finally looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time that night, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease.

Before you could stop yourself, you sighed, "I think about failure all the time."

His brows furrowed slightly. “What do you mean?”

You glanced down, running your thumb over the rim of your glass. “Every single day at the bakery feels like a risk. Like one wrong move, one slow month, and it all comes crashing down. I try not to let it eat me alive, but it’s always there in the back of my mind.” You huffed out a quiet laugh. “Every day is either a risk or a victory. Some days, it’s both.”

Joe was quiet for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, almost to himself. “I get that.”

And you knew he did. Probably more than anyone else. Maybe that was the thing about him—he understood the weight of expectations, the pressure of something you love being both the best and hardest thing in your life.

The party carried on around you, but the two of you stayed there, in the quiet.

Joe wasn’t sure when it started, but sometime after the day he met you, he’d found himself wanting to be near you. To talk to you. To hear what you had to say.

Now, standing here, watching the way your eyes softened when you spoke, he realized something that both excited and terrified him.

He liked you. He really liked you.

And when you smiled at him—soft, understanding, like you really saw him—something in his chest tightened. He was absolutely fucked. And he knew it.

The day after his ill-timed epiphany, he had to figure out a way to see you, without making it completely obvious that he wanted to see you. So he did the one thing he could think of.

"THE Joe Burrow, gracing my humble bakery with his presence?" You place a hand over your heart in mock surprise. "Did hell actually freeze over? Or did you finally crack under the pressure of living a sugar-free life?"

The quarterback looks around and shrugs, "told my parents about this place and I wanted to grab them something before they head out. What should I get? What's good here?" He laughs and you glare at him.

"Everything," Quinn interrupts before disappearing in the kitchen to go over their fall menu, "you know this."

"Well…surprise me." Joe says, when it's just you again. "You're the professional here. And I trust your opinion."

You pick out a few things, putting them in a box and handing them over to him after he tapped his phone on the tap to pay. His fingers brushed against yours on the box, just for a second. Just long enough for his slightly calloused touch to settle into your skin. He didn’t pull away immediately. Neither did you. And then, just like that, the moment passed.

Joe thanked you, turning on his heel and walking out without another glance. He told himself not to think about it. About the way your hand felt against his. About how his skin still felt warm where you’d touched him.

He spent a considerably long time staring at his palm in the car before shaking his head, gripping the wheel, and driving himself home.

September

The month came with the promise of real football. Instead, it delivered losses. Three straight. By the end of the month, they were 1-4, and the frustration was suffocating.

Losing wasn’t new to Joe—football was a game of highs and lows. But this? This felt different. This felt like clawing for air and only inhaling more water. He’d been playing pretty well but that hadn’t translated to team success so needless to say, he was frustrated.

And when Joe was frustrated, when the weight of the season pressed down on him, he did what he always did: he shut people out.

His routine became even more rigid. Early mornings. Earlier nights. Film. Practice. Ice baths. Rehab. Study. Sleep. Repeat. No distractions. No detours. Just football.

No one took it personally. Not really. This was how he was wired. How he dealt with things. But that didn’t mean you didn’t notice the way his texts became shorter, the way he started disappearing from the group chat, the way even Ja’Marr and Tee could barely get more than a few words out of him after a loss.

You weren’t even sure if stopping by was the right move. Still, you showed up at his house the day after their first win, peanut butter oat cups in hand and a ton of nerves in your stomach. You just…wanted—no needed to see him. To lay eyes on him and know he was okay.

Joe opened the door a few moments later, looking like a guy carrying a losing record on his shoulders. His hoodie was slightly wrinkled, his hair, which had already grown out tremendously, was still damp from a shower, and there was something unshakably tired about the way he stood.

But when he saw you, his posture relaxed just a little.

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

“Hey.” You offered a small smile, holding out the box. “Figured you’d be on lockdown mode, so I won’t keep you. Just wanted to drop these off.”

His lips twitched like he was debating whether or not to smile. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” You shrugged. “But I did.”

Joe exhaled, running a hand over his face before glancing down at the box in his hand with a small smile. You were definitely going to consider this a win.

You let the silence settle between you for a moment before finally saying, “I know this is my first season actually paying attention to all this, but…I do know one thing.”

He looked at you then, a softer expression on his face as he shifted his weight from one foot to another.

“This season isn’t over,” you said firmly. “Not even close. I know you well enough to know you won't just give up without a fight.”

Joe swallowed hard, slowly nodding his head. He didn’t respond right away, but you didn’t need him to. Instead, you reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder—just for a second, just to ground him.

“I’ll let you do your thing,” you murmured. “I just needed to see you for myself.”

Something flickered in his expression, something almost vulnerable, but before you could place it, he sighed, releasing a significant amount of tension in his muscles.

“Come on,” he said, closing the door behind him. “I’ll walk you out.”

The morning air was cool as the two of you walked in quiet steps toward your car. When you reached the door, you turned to say goodbye, but before you could, Joe pulled you into a hug.

It caught you off guard at first, the warmth of him, the way he held onto you like he needed this moment more than he was willing to say.

And then you felt it.

The steady, rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

You weren’t sure what it meant. If he even realized how much he was giving away just by standing here, holding you like this. And as much as you wanted to say something—to push—you got in your car holding back a smile.

October

The guys were riding on a high after beating the Giants, allowing themselves to celebrate for a total of...four hours.

By the time Joe made his way to Ja’Marr’s place, the energy in the house was still buzzing. Most of the guests had gone home and it was just the core four cleaning up in the kitchen, while others made their way in and out of the house. For once, nobody was sulking over film breakdowns or injury reports. It was rare for Joe to show up to things like this—especially in-season—but a win after weeks of frustration made it easier to step outside his routine, even if only for a little while.

He kept to himself for the most part, sitting back and listening while his receivers talked over each other about plays, what went right and what they could’ve done better. But the conversation took a sharp turn when Quinn, comfortably stretched out on the couch with a glass of wine in hand, looked up and announced, “Oh, by the way, I got her on dating apps.”

Silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

“Wait, what?” Tee sat up so fast he almost knocked over his drink. “Are you serious?”

“Like, for real?” Ja’Marr leaned forward, grinning. “Ain’t no way.”

“Oh, I’m very serious,” Quinn smirked, pulling out her phone. “Took some convincing, but she finally caved. And now I get to be the supportive best friend who helps her swipe.”

Ja’Marr rubbed his hands together. “Hand it over. We gotta see this. Make sure ain’t no weirdos on there. Last thing I need is for you to end up on some true crime Netflix special.”

Joe stayed quiet, gripping the neck of his water bottle a little too tightly as you handed them Quinn your phone and she pulled up the profile. Tee and Ja’Marr crowded around, making dramatic noises every time they scrolled past a new guy.

“Absolutely not,” Tee muttered, swiping left.

“Oh, hell no.” Ja’Marr swiped even faster. “Why he posing like that?”

“This one’s kinda decent, though,” Quinn argued, nudging the phone toward them. “Look at him.”

Joe didn’t look. He didn’t join in on the commentary, didn’t make a joke, didn’t do anything except sit there, staring at the condensation rolling down his water bottle, wondering why there was a weird feeling sitting heavy in his chest.

It wasn’t like he had a right to feel any type of way about this. And he knew what it meant.

But that didn’t stop him from feeling it anyway no matter how hard he tried to ignore it.

Between the temperature fluctuations and the sudden boom in business, your head was spinning. The bakery had never been more popular. What had started as a hidden gem over the summer had officially become one of Cincinnati’s go-to spots. Lines stretched out the door on weekends, with customers raving about the new fall menu: cinnamon swirl snickerdoodle blondies, apple cider donuts, maple pecan scones. You barely had time to catch your breath between managing the chaos and perfecting each batch, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Meanwhile, the Bengals’ season remained a rollercoaster. A solid win against the Browns gave everyone a glimmer of hope, but that optimism came crashing down when the Eagles steamrolled them by twenty. After that game, no one heard from Joe. His silent rage wasn’t unusual after a loss, but it was nevertheless, felt from miles away.

The next week, they bounced back in a big way, blowing out the Raiders at home. The scoreboard said it was a dominant win, but Joe was still visibly pissed, seen on the sidelines venting to Zac Taylor about missed offensive opportunities and a shit ton of penalties that should've been avoided. The moment went viral—clips of his animated rant flooded social media, with analysts debating whether his frustration was a sign of his competitive fire or a deeper issue brewing in Cincinnati.

That night, everyone met at Jeff Ruby’s for dinner, but Joe didn’t show. To the surprise of absolutely...nobody.

Toward the end of the night, the restaurant manager approached your table with a takeout bag in hand. “This is Joe’s order,” he explained. “He called it in, but something came up. He asked me to give it to you, is that okay?"

You hesitated for a second before nodding. “Yeah, I got it.”

It wasn’t long before you were standing outside his house, takeout bag in hand, knocking on his door. When he opened it, he looked exhausted. Not physically—no visible bruises or signs of injury—but mentally. His eyes were dull, his usual composed demeanor carrying an edge of frustration.

You gave him the bag. “Figured you should still eat.”

Joe took it with a small nod. “Thanks.”

For a second, you considered just leaving, letting him sit with whatever was weighing on him. But instead, you crossed your arms and leaned against the doorframe. “You wanna talk about it?”

He let out a slow breath, rubbing his jaw before stepping back to let you in. You followed him to the kitchen, watching as he set the bag down on the counter but didn’t open it.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, finally breaking the silence. “I just—” He sighed. “I’m playing well, but I don’t know if we as a collective have what it takes to close out games when it actually matters. We can beat shit teams, but the moment we go up against a real contender, it’s like everything falls apart. And I hate feeling like we’re right there but just not good enough.”

You nodded, understanding the weight of what he was saying. Joe wasn’t the type to be satisfied with mediocrity. He needed to win, and not just in ways that looked good on paper. At this point, to get back on track they needed to look dominant— unstoppable. Not like kids throwing together a project at the last minute because they forgot the due date.

“I get it,” you said softly. “This is your job, your career. You don’t half-ass anything, and you don’t want to settle for middle of the pack.”

Joe’s lips pressed together, his gaze flickering to yours. “Exactly.”

He ran a hand through his hair before exhaling sharply. “I’m sorry for missing dinner. Just…had a lot on my mind.”

You tilted your head, a flash of curiosity taking over. “Anything besides football?”

For a second, he was quiet, debating whether or not to answer. You could see the internal battle written all over his face, his jaw tensing and flexing as he pondered the risks of honesty.

Then, he muttered, “Fuck it.”

Your brows lifted, but before you could ask, he looked at you—really looked at you—and said, “I’ve been...thinking about you.” His voice was low, steady, but you could hear the weight behind it. “More than I want to. More than I should.”

The words knocked the air from your lungs.

You should’ve said something, but for once, you had no idea what to say. Instead, you took a step forward. Joe’s eyes tracked your movement, and when you didn’t pull away, he closed the distance. His hand brushed against your waist, his gaze flickering to your lips, leaning in ever so slightly—

“Yo, have you seen my phone charger?”

Ja’Marr’s voice shattered the moment like glass.

Joe immediately stepped back, cursing again under his breath as Ja’Marr walked into the kitchen, completely oblivious to what he had just interrupted.

Your entire face was on fire and you were sure your heart was seconds away from bursting out of your chest.

Joe looked like he wanted to murder his best friend.

November

Neither of you brought up what almost happened. Maybe because neither of you were sure it should have happened. Or maybe, deep down, you were both afraid of what it would mean if you admitted that it did.

So, instead, things carried on like normal—except they weren’t normal at all.

Joe still came by the bakery, though now he had a habit of showing up under the guise of casual excuses. Like when he walked in one morning, a familiar water bottle in hand, and placed it on the counter in front of you.

“You left this at my house,” he said, completely straight-faced. “Wanted to make sure you’re staying hydrated.”

You blinked at him, then down at the bottle—one of many you’d undoubtedly left behind at places far more inconvenient. “You drove all the way here for…this?”

Joe shrugged. “Seemed important.”

Quinn made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. You didn’t have to turn to know she was giving Joe a look—one that said she saw right through him.

Still, nothing was said.

The two of you danced around the elephant in the room for 17 days. Then came the bye week, and as fate would have it, or your own personal hell, you ended up at Joe’s house, standing side by side in his kitchen as you baked a pumpkin pie together. The whole thing came randomly, he mentioned in passing that it was his favorite and he was spending his entire bye week on the couch so naturally you came up with a solution. Nobody else was free so it just ended up being you and him. Of course.

The kitchen smelled of cinnamon, nutmeg, and warm sugar, the scent pulling you into your natural element. This was your Paycor Stadium, your stage. R&B played in the background, filling the comfortable silence as Joe rolled out the pie dough with slow, concentrated movements. The counter was dusted with flour, the remnants of your work scattered across the surface.

"You’re pressing too hard," you murmured, stepping in behind him. You placed your hands gently over his, guiding his movements. "You want it even, but not overworked."

Joe huffed out a breath, the warmth of his chuckle brushing against your cheek. "So what you’re saying is, I’d be terrible on a baking show?"

You grinned, your fingers brushing against his as you both worked the dough. "I’m saying, there's some room for improvement for sure."

Joe turned his head slightly, just enough for his blue eyes to catch yours, his expression hard to read but there was a certain glimmer in his gaze. You didn’t move away. Neither did he. This was how it had been for months now—a quiet understanding, an unspoken closeness that had slowly built between you. It was in the way he showed up to your bakery with your favorite coffee, the way you memorized his weekly schedule, the way he looked for you after every home game, his gaze scanning the crowd in the player guest section postgame until he found you.

The pie crust was ready now, but neither of you were ready to move to finish it.

Joe’s hands lingered under yours, his thumbs lightly grazing your knuckles. "I like this," he admitted after a moment, his voice low. "Us. Doing this."

Your breath caught in your throat. "Me too."

It wasn’t just about the pie, and you both knew it.

You helped him move the dough into the pan, your fingers brushing again, sending little shivers up your spine. The pumpkin filling sat ready in a glass bowl, waiting to be poured, but Joe seemed far more interested in you. His eyes traced over your features, cataloging every detail as if he was afraid he’d forget them.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

Joe shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"About?"

He exhaled slowly, rolling his lips together as if debating what to say. Then, instead of answering, he reached out to touch you, his fingers trailing down to your jawline, resting there a smidge too long. His movements were gentle, almost hesitant, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away.

You didn’t. You couldn't.

The space between you evaporated, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss so delicate, so achingly tender, that it stole the breath from your lungs. It was slow, unhurried, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of you against him. His hands found your waist, pulling you closer, and you let yourself sink into him, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie. The warmth of his body, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with vanilla extract—it was intoxicating.

Joe deepened the kiss, a quiet desperation laced within it, months of lingering glances and fleeting touches culminating in this moment. You felt his hesitation fade, replaced by something raw and real, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

But then he pulled away.

And you saw it—regret, creeping into his expression before he even said the words.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “This was a mistake.”

A sharp, bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “Are you serious?”

Joe exhaled, looking anywhere but at you. He was still standing somewhat close but his hands weren’t on you anymore, making the temperature in the room instantly feel like it had dropped 20 degrees. Even the expression on his face was a little colder than before. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

Your heart was pounding, anger curling hot in your chest. It was the only thing fueling you and keeping you warm. “I think it's a little too late for that. Joe, things have already changed. These past few weeks—hell, these past few months—we’ve been dancing around this. We’re not in fucking high school. Just tell me the truth.”

You took a step closer, forcing him to face you. To look at you. “Do you honestly have no feelings for me?”

Silence.

Then, finally—too quiet— “I don’t.”

You flinched like he’d slapped you.

Joe must have seen it because he let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just—overwhelmed. The team is losing, and I’m playing the best football of my life, and I just—I can’t add another thing to my plate right now.”

You studied him for a long moment, jaw tight, hands clenched at your sides. Then, finally, you nodded.

You stared at him, waiting for him to take it back, to say something—but he didn’t. He just stood there, shoulders tense, eyes locked on the floor like he was hoping if he didn’t look at you, this would all just go away.

“You’re such a coward.”

Joe’s head snapped up, but you were already shaking your head, anger and frustration crashing into you all at once.

“You are so stuck in your own head,” you continued, voice sharp, unrelenting. “You keep everyone at arm’s length so you don’t get hurt. So you don’t have to admit that you actually feel things like a normal human being. You’re not some heartless football machine, Joe. You don’t have to live, breathe, and die this sport 24/7 to be fulfilled.”

You took a step forward, forcing him to face you, forcing him to hear you. “And you can stand there and act like this isn’t real, like there’s nothing between us, but I know there is. And you do too. Maybe it’s new, maybe it’s always been there, but I’m not stupid. At least I didn’t think I was.”

Joe’s jaw tightened, but he still said nothing.

And that? That pissed you off even more.

You scoffed, blinking away the sting in your eyes as you turned on your heel, grabbing your things off the counter. “If you want to pretend none of this is real, then fine. I won’t fight you on it.”

Joe didn’t move. He didn’t stop you.

You lingered for half a second, hoping—praying—that he’d snap out of it. That he’d reach for you, say your name, give you anything.

But all he did was stand there, motionless, watching you go.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head one last time before you reached for the door.

“Don’t burn my pie,” you muttered, then stepped outside, slamming the door shut behind you.

December

Joe told himself, over and over, that he’d made the right decision.

That pulling away had been necessary. That it was better this way.

But as the weeks passed, the reality of it settled in like a dull, persistent ache in his chest. The group dynamic wasn’t the same anymore. Quinn was firmly on your side, and Tee and Ja’Marr were caught in the middle, trying their best to act like everything was normal when it clearly wasn’t.

You only hung out with them if Joe wasn’t going to be there, and eventually, he stopped showing up altogether. Left the group chat, too, because what was the point?

So, yeah. He told himself this was what he wanted. That it was for the best.

Then one day, the night before his birthday while the Bengals were in Dallas, his house was broken into.

It was everywhere. The footage of the smashed window. The grainy security cam stills of showing the inside of his house. The headlines dissecting every detail—what was stolen, how much damage was done.

For a second—just a fleeting, stupid second—he thought maybe you’d reach out.

But you didn’t.

And why would you? It wasn’t your place anymore.

You were moving on. Meeting new people.

Like Cory.

Sweet, mature, honest-about-his-feelings Cory.

More than Joe could say for himself.

Joe wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

At all, really.

But when he overheard Tee and Ja’Marr talking about you, about how you’d been going on several dates with some guy named Cory, he couldn’t help but listen.

“Seems like a good dude,” Tee said, scrolling through his phone. “Takes her out, treats her right.”

“She actually looks happy, too,” Ja’Marr added. “Not whatever the fuck that was with Joe.”

Joe rolled his eyes, slamming his locker shut. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

Ja’Marr turned to him, unimpressed. “It means you fumbled, bro.”

Tee nodded. “Big time.”

Joe exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his jaw. He wasn’t in the mood for this. But they weren’t letting it go, so he told them. Everything. The kiss, the fight, the way he let you walk away because he was too caught up in his own head to admit how he really felt.

By the time he finished, Tee and Ja’Marr were looking at him like he was the dumbest man alive.

“You fumbled twice,” Tee corrected.

“She’s moving on,” Ja’Marr added. “And from the sound of it, dude’s actually putting in effort. You had your chance.”

Joe didn’t respond, just sat there, feeling more irritated by the second. He told himself he didn’t care.

The restaurant was dimly lit, the soft hum of jazz playing in the background as you swirled the last bit of your wine in the glass. Across from you, Cory was smiling, eyes warm and excited in a way that made you feel a little guilty. He was sweet, thoughtful, and easy to be around. The kind of man that you bring home to your parents and settle down with. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was easy. There was no tension, no unsaid words, no history thick enough to make the world stand completely still for a minute.

You were on your fifth date now, and even though you liked him, you knew deep down you weren’t feeling it the way you were supposed to.

“I, uh—I actually got something for you,” Cory said, reaching into his jacket pocket. “Well, it’s more of a surprise, really.”

You set your glass down, watching as he pulled out a sleek envelope and slid it across the table toward you. “Go on, open it.”

You hesitated before peeling it open, your heart practically stopping when you saw what was inside. Two tickets to the game—Bengals vs. Broncos. A must-win. And VIP passes for the postgame meet-and-greet.

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you.

“I wasn't snooping in your house or anything but I did see a Bengals cup in your cabinet the other day. But you never really said anything about being a fan?” Cory said, clearly proud of himself. “i don't know, I figured you might like it. And hey, you can finally meet some of the players.”

Your stomach twisted painfully. You swallowed down the instinct to refuse, to make up an excuse, to say absolutely the fuck not. But what reason did you have? To Cory, there was nothing complicated about this—just a thoughtful gift for someone he was getting to know.

You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look as fake as it felt. “Wow, Cory. This is...really sweet of you.”

“So, you’ll come?” he asked, his grin widening.

You nodded, the weight of your own decision pressing against your chest. “Yeah,” you said, voice quieter than you meant it to be. “I’ll go.”

And just like that, you sealed your fate.

Admittedly, it was their best game of the season. A win in OT, a Tee touchdown to keep their playoff hopes alive, and all the players riding on a high of a multiple game win streak. A month ago, you would've been celebrating right along with them. But tonight you really needed to get through this meet and greet without throwing up. And without blowing your cover. If nothing else, this was Cory's opportunity to have a once in a lifetime experience and the last thing you wanted to do is ruin that.

And then you saw him.

And Joe saw you with...him.

He saw how the guy next to you couldn’t wait to shake his hand—Joe thought it was a joke. Thought maybe this was some kind of sick cosmic punishment for all the terrible decisions he’d made in the last few months.

You looked good, unfairly good in your jacket and Bengals beanie, one that Tee had given you and Joe felt his irritation morph into something else entirely.

You weren’t even looking at him.

Cory, meanwhile, was beaming. “Man, it’s so cool to meet you. You played great tonight.”

Joe barely managed a nod, jaw tight.

Cory didn’t seem to notice the tension thickening the air, but you did.

And when your eyes finally met Joe’s, there was something there—something that made his pulse jump—before you quickly looked away.

Yeah. Joe was pissed.

The moment Cory got distracted meeting some of the other players, shaking hands and taking pictures, Joe saw his chance. He stepped toward you, lowering his voice.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “Attending a football game, in the city I live in. Apparently that's a crime now.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then be more specific," you bite out.

Joe exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. “Him? This?” He gestured vaguely in Cory’s direction. “Really?”

Your expression hardened. “Yes, really. He’s kind, honest, actually says what he feels instead of hiding behind excuses and—” You stopped yourself, shaking your head. “You know what? No. I don’t owe you an explanation. I don't owe you shit.”

Joe clenched his jaw. “So that’s it? You’re just—what? Moving on like none of it mattered?”

“Oh, now you want to talk about it?” You whisper yell. “You didn't have anything for me when I asked you, remember? All you could do was look at the floor like a freaking idiot. It was crickets and now you have the nerve to ask me what this is? You don’t get to do this, Joe. You don’t get to push me away, call me a mistake, then act like you suddenly care when you see me with someone else.”

He stepped closer, voice low and tense. “You know damn well I care.”

You swallowed, blinking up at him, and for a second—just a second—Joe thought you might let your guard down. That you might admit there was still something there.

But then you shook your head. “If you actually cared, we wouldn’t be having this conversation here. We actually wouldn't be having this conversation at all. I would've been here, with you. Not looking for pieces of you in another guy, a perfectly nice guy who just wanted to meet the freaking Bengals today. So if you don't mind, I'm gonna go meet Tee Higgins and Ja’Marr Chase...for the first time.”

Joe didn’t know what to say to that.

So you left him standing there, walking back toward Cory with a smile, pulling him in for a hug like Joe wasn’t just barely holding himself together.

January

Exactly seven days later, while Cory was over watching the game with you, Joe took a hit and stayed down. This time you were hanging on by a thread, on the inside. On the outside, you shoved some popcorn in your mouth and sipped on ginger ale, hoping the bubbles would bring your heart back to its rightful place instead of where it currently resided...in your stomach. You didn't know if he had a concussion but he definitely looked out of it, missing throws he usually made and the Bengals escaped Pittsburg by the skin of their teeth, securing a two point win on the road, their destiny up to chance. Ja'Marr called you in the locker room after the game to tell you he needed you at the watch party for good luck in praying on the Dolphins and the Broncos downfall. You told him you'd think about it, part of you didn't mind being in the same room as Joe, especially after you caved and watched his postgame press conference to make sure he wasn't lying about being concussed. Maybe the two of you could be cordial with each other and leave the past behind.

You woke up on the couch with NFL Network still on tv. Something about it felt embarrassing, because it felt right. Months ago you were watching an introduction to football PowerPoint and now you'd regularly catch yourself having football withdrawals. Just as you were ready to call it a night, turning off the tv and mentally preparing yourself to head to your room, you heard a knock at the door. Who could possibly be coming over at 2 in the morning?

You stood frozen in the doorway, gripping the edge of the door like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Your stomach dropped—hard and fast—like missing a step in the dark. Joe was standing there, still in the clothes you had seen him wearing during in his postgame press conference. His hair was a mess, the shadows under his eyes deeper than usual. He looked exhausted. But that wasn’t what made your breath hitch. It was him. Here. Now. After all this time.

“Joe.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “What are you doing?”

He exhaled heavily, a far away look in his eyes. “I don’t know.”

You crossed your arms, trying to steel yourself, ignoring the way your pulse was racing. “You don’t know? What do you mean you don't know? You just drove around after you landed and magically ended up here?”

“I don't know, I just—I couldn’t go home. Not without seeing you.” He swallowed hard, eyes flickering over your face like he was searching for something, anything that might give him an answer. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but when I got on the plane, all I could think about was you.”

Your heart clenched painfully. Damn him.

“You scared the hell out of me tonight,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. “Watching you go down like that—” You shook your head, gripping the fabric of your hoodie. “I hated it.”

His eyes softened, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. “I know. Can we just—can I come in?”

You stared at each other, the weight of everything unsaid pressing in around you.

“Joe.” You sighed, your resolve crumbling at the sight of him standing there like that, like he wasn’t sure you’d let him in.

“Please,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Just for a minute.”

And against your better judgment, you stepped aside.

Joe ran a hand over his face and took a shaky breath. “I don’t even know what the fuck I was thinking on that play, the pocket collapsed so fast I didn't even have time to throw the ball away. And when I hit the ground, all I could think about was you.” He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Not football, not the game, not the playoffs. You. And how I’d fucked everything up so badly that you wouldn’t even reach out. That I wouldn’t get a chance to apologize.”

Your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to keep your expression unreadable.

“I’m so, so sorry. I was a coward,” Joe admitted, his voice breaking. “I am a coward. I’ve spent my whole life trying to be in control—of my game, my career, my emotions. It's kind of my thing. And you…” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You fuck all of that up for me. The way I feel about you scares the living shit out of me.”

You blinked, stunned into silence.

“I’m not some heartless football robot,” he continued, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m a man who’s been terrified to feel anything real because it means I can’t control it. And when I’m with you, it’s real. It’s been real for months, and you were right. About everything. I was too much of a fucking idiot to admit it.”

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow. You wanted to believe him—God, you did—but you couldn’t just let him walk back into your life like he hadn’t wrecked you before.

“I need you to give me a chance to fix this,” Joe pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper now. “Please.”

You swallowed hard. “Joe…”

“I swear to you,” he interrupted, stepping closer, his hands almost reaching for you before he forced himself to stop. “I promise, I will prove to you that I’m not that coward anymore. Just… just say you’ll let me try.”

You studied him carefully, searching for any sign of doubt, any hesitation. But there was none. Only raw, unfiltered desperation and a kind of vulnerability you had never seen from him before.

Your walls were still up, but something inside you cracked. Just a little.

“You have to earn me this time,” you whispered.

Joe nodded instantly. “I will.”

After a hard conversation with Cory in the morning, you decided to attend the watch party the next day to test the waters. And to see your friends all in one place again. The atmosphere in Joe's house had shifted from tense to comfortable, a soft kind of warmth that had been missing for a while. The room was still, save for the quiet hum of the television, which was showing the Broncos slowly dismantling the Chiefs, much to the frustration of everyone else in the room. Joe had been quiet for the most part, lost in his thoughts, but you could tell he had already come to terms with the inevitable.

You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or sad about the Bengals missing the playoffs, but you did know one thing: it didn’t feel like the end for you and Joe. Not anymore.

The room had cleared out, the others heading to their respective homes after the game, leaving you and Joe alone. The snow outside had started to fall heavier now, creating a peaceful stillness that you couldn’t help but love. Joe seemed to notice the shift in the air as well, his eyes softening as he glanced over at you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His concern was still there like that first night he found you outside the housewarming party, that need to take care of you even now.

You nodded, even though there was a part of you that was more uncertain than you wanted to admit. “Yeah. Just…just thinking.”

He leaned back against the couch, eyes flicking to the window as the snowflakes danced in the cold air. “You want me to drive you home? It’s getting pretty bad out there. Or, you could stay? Only if you want to."

You hesitated for a second, a small part of you wanting to avoid the drive, to stay with him just a little longer. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—like he was sure this time. Like there was no more running. “I think…I think I want to stay,” you said quietly, meeting his gaze.

Joe didn’t need any more convincing. He pulled you in close to him on the couch, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he let out a slow sigh. “I’m really gonna miss football," he murmured. “But I’ve got a lot of work to do with you, so I guess I’ve got some time now. I messed up before. I’m not messing this up again.”

You smiled, the weight of the past few weeks lifting off your shoulders just by being close to him. “I can’t wait to put you to work, 6am at the bakery tomorrow morning. And the next few mornings. For a while.” you teased, your voice barely audible.

Joe’s eyes darkened for a moment, a quiet promise in his gaze. He cupped your face gently, leaning in with a tenderness that took you by surprise. When his lips met yours, it was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment. A kiss full of unspoken apologies, solidifying what was to come, and the quiet declaration that he was willing to do whatever it took to make things right between the two of you. Even if some of that ended up with him getting covered in flour for the foreseeable future.

You didn’t pull away. In fact, you melted into the kiss, your heart swelling in your chest as his hands slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place like you were exactly where you belonged.

He pressed one more slow kiss to your lips before his eyes flicked to yours, searching. “So… does this mean our friendship over?” His voice was low, careful, but there was something else there—hope, maybe.

You didn’t even have to think about it. You let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking your head and running your fingers through his hair. “Absolutely. It’s dead and gone.”

Joe exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head before reaching for you, fingers curling gently around your wrist. “Good,” he murmured, tugging you closer. “Because I really didn’t want to be your friend anyway. Got much bigger plans in mind.”

#Joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x you #joe burrow fic #joe burrow fanfic

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synesthete-sylke · 2 months ago

Note

if your looking for duos to doodle may i suggest queerplatonic scott and cleo…

i offer. a free pearl as an apology for taking so long with this ,w,

i feel like this is how they deal with any problems tho. pearl gets to bonk scott with a pillow while cleo laughs at them (and then they share popcorn and hot cocoa and cuddle <33)

they also def paint each other's nails and play with tilly, who frequently sabotages the pillow fights by playing tug of war

(if anyone makes a fic of this. i will love you forever and ever plz i'll draw for you ,w,)

#scott smajor #smajor1995 #smajor fanart #pearlescentmoon #pearlecentmoon fanart #zombiecleo #zombiecleo fanart #galaxy duo #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #traffic life #traffic life fanart #trafficblr #life series #life series fanart #syn's art

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notapradagurl7 · 5 days ago

Text

Between Us.

Black Fem! ReaderBoss! x Aaron PierreManager! & Kelvin Harrison Jr.Assistant!

Summary: You were a diligent boss in the corporate workplace with a need for change in your life, but you didn't know that Kelvin and Aaron would be the excitement and love you needed. They invited you to their house, but one of them has an idea that they think you would open to. Not only becoming with your best friends and lovers Kelvin and Aaron.

Warnings: fluff, smut, threesome, piv, heavy dirty talk, angst, head(fem + male receiving) dominant duo, gossip in the workplace, filth, words of affirmations, sex toy, bondage, handjobs, teasing, a secret poly relationship, jealousy, nipple play, drama, internet rumors, mention of taboo topic, fictional, not real, anxiety attack, slight British slang, kinky, BDSM.

A/N: I was extremely anxious about this mini-series since I hadn't come across any poly fics featuring these cuties, so I chose to create one. I'm focusing on adding some nastiness to these stories. Don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open! ❤️🫡

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@uzumaki-rebellion

———-

Another day, another paycheck for you, but it's the same sleek and tidy office you occupy every day of the week, including late nights and weekends. The macaroon cream and cocoa decoration evoked thoughts of candy, enticing your sweet cravings with its elegant touch.

The couch by the wall, a small bookshelf next to it, and a round lamp overhead, as soft jazz played from your phone, the office transformed into a routine you had fallen into and were struggling to escape.

You were typing on your computer about a new day on Fridays, which were casual Fridays. It wasn't much thought to it for you but you were tired of wearing the same tailored blazers with matching pants, and heels or loafers. You wanted to be comfortable for once.

The office became mundane and often in the halls you heard your co-workers in the break room say you were pensive, a hard ass, too strict and mean because of the way you managed the team every day.

They didn't understand the pressure you faced, the expectations from higher-ups who were also black men and black women, the constant need to prove yourself as a capable leader in a male-dominated environment.

As you typed the rest of your report, you felt a familiar tug of anxiety knotting in your stomach. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that tonight was different.

You would deem yourself as straightforward, you weren't the type of woman to sugarcoat shit for anyone, not even friends or family.

Maybe they were right—-nope, they weren't right, you just needed to change something about yourself or life, leaving your career as a successful real estate agent? Nope, you've made too much money to quit now and leave it to someone who didn’t know what they were doing.

How about a new lover? Possibly two lovers in your routine, but who? You always pondered on having a poly relationship with two handsome men, but those who looked at you sideways were always so quick to judge.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed twice on your polished brown table. Your eyes flickered at the screen.

Kelvin: Hey, I know you're busy right now but would like to come over to our house for dinner? Aaron is cooking.

It was only a thought, you didn't tell anyone about it. You kept it to yourself.

Your heart raised at the thought of seeing Kelvin and Aaron. They had become your confidants, not just friends but in many ways. Smiling a schoolgirl who has finally been asked out by her crush, similar to those cheesy rom-coms you liked.

You: Sure! What time should come over?

The grey message bubble popped up and then a few moments later, Kelvin replied back to you.

Kelvin: How about 8? Dress casually, we want you to feel comfortable.

You smiled at his message, grateful for their thoughtfulness. Doing a little dance in your seat, grinning from ear to ear.

You knew from day one you started working at your mother’s building that your co-workers or employees weren't friends. Except for Kelvin and Aaron.

But it wasn't until certain two handsome men walked into your workplace to apply for the positions as the manager and assistant, Aaron and Kelvin.

Your breath hitched when you thought of the two men, they were so handsome, attentive and funny. You spend weekend evenings with them at the diner, their house, or your house for a chat.

“Just relax, you got this,” you encourage yourself.

A knock on the door broke your thoughts quickly, you sighed then realized it was your receptionist Julia, who shot you a knowing smile, you mirrored the same action and chuckled.

Her deep brown skin glowed under the white fluorescent lights, complemented by a V-line sky-blue dress and matching heels, while her curly pixie haircut highlighted her oval face.

Jamila was not only your receptionist, but your best friend in the office, the only person you spoke to about Kelvin and Aaron. She understood your situation completely.

“How are you, boss lady? Are you for your late-night home date with two of the finest men in the office?” Jamila exclaimed with a grin, doing a cute shimmy dance toward you.

You hushed the woman, then glanced at the door and did a little dance with her, in case anyone was eavesdropping before closing the door behind her.

“Shh! Jamila, you are the only one and my friend in this place who knows. We have to keep this between us or I'm losing my job,” you whispered with a soft tone.

Jamila waved you off with an eye roll, “Girl, please They wish they would fire the greatest boss in the fucking company, guess what? They can't, because you have power, use it. And I'm sure that Kelvin and Aaron feel the same about you as well,” she said, her tone comforting and reassuring.

She was definitely correct; they couldn't let you go or they’d have to face your mother. You were convinced she had done the same things you were doing—falling for her assistant and taking that vacation. There were MANY trips she took ahead, and still kept her job.

“Yeah, you're right, I'm ready to get both of them, ugh. But how will they react?” you asked nervously.

Jamila placed her hands on your shoulders, making you face her. “Listen to me, you are smart, funny and beautiful, they would be so lucky to have you,”

She resumed speaking with reassurance, “And give me all the details on the threesomes you have, let me know if they both cum at the same time just from looking at you,”

You bursting out in laughter from her, Jamila was unhinged at a crazy time. You covered your mouth and shook her head, “Okay, okay I will,”

The clock struck five, and you quickly packed your things, excitement, bubbling in your chest. It was as if she could sense the shift beneath the surface, even though she did know.

As you stepped out into the cool evening air, you felt a sense of freedom and liberation wash over you. The burdens of the day lifting from your shoulders.

It took time for you to open up to people due to personal trauma with men, and girlfriends who treated you badly, your love life was complicated, it was like a maze with no clear exit.

You were reluctant to share your feelings with anyone following yet another difficult partner, as past partners had told you and you were overwhelming or too intricate.

Yet something about Aaron and Kelvin, they had a way of pulling those layers back once you got to know them, they are shown a brotherhood that was unbreakable.

And the size difference was pretty to you, given that you were only 5’5 and they were taller than you.

You always wondered what it would to be in a poly relationship with two men, others may spew judgment at you, calling you a whore and this, or that.

That throuple dynamic among black people was usually celebrated when it came to men, like they can come and go as they pleased when they had multiple women.

But they were different from the rest, they felt like a safe haven in a world that often felt suffocating, they were funny, charming and made your days so much better. What you love about this poly relationship with Kelvin and Aaron was combining your love languages.

Aaron’s love language was quality time and physical touch, while yours was words of affirmation, physical touch and Kelvin’s love language was all of them in one.

Originally it was your idea to be in a poly relationship, it all started on a late sweet night in your house, and he talked about how you wanted to explore the boundaries of love and connection. The conversation flowed effortlessly, like chocolate dripping from a spoon, sweet and warm.

The idea sparked a flame within you; the thought of loving and being loved by two incredible men sent shivers down your spine. It felt liberated yet so taboo to talk about, especially among black people.

As soon as your car arrived in the driveway, your anxiety began to fade, and you quickly exited the vehicle, shut the door, and rushed inside your home to get ready.

Once inside, You settled for a soft oversized sweater and joggers, wanting to feel comfortable. Crimson red applied to your fingernails and toenails. A watch on your wrist and your box braids pulled back in a ponytail. Gorgeous.

Your phone buzzed on the table, it was from Kelvin.

Kelvin: Hey, I'm coming to pick you up, are you ready beautiful?

Your thumbs tapped across the keyboard on the screen, sending him a text back.

You: I'm ready, on my way over.

Before you walked toward your front door, a knock made you flinch and you looked through the peephole, it was Kelvin. The door swung open.

You chuckled once your eyes locked with his, “Boy, I know that you didn't come over here to rush me, I'm done dressing up, baby”

“I didn't come here to rush you, Y/N. I told you that I'd pick you up at 8, and I wanted to walk with you to our house,” Kelvin said, his tone love-dovey and serious.

Your cheeks grew hot with warmth and embarrassment, stepping out of your house, locking the door behind yourself. “Oh, umm..thank you. What a gentleman, so what are we having for dinner tonight?”

Kelvin chucked with a smile before looking back in your eyes, “Spaghetti with parmesan cheese, and garlic bread. Aaron is cooking tonight,”

As you stood beside him, you began to walk with him, the night sky decorated with stars hovering over both of you.

“You do know that I live right next door right?”

“Yeah, but I wanted to walk with you, Aaron and I suggested it so I can be here to protect you,” He said, smiling.

Your heart fluttered at his kind words, there was something about the way he looked at you, making you feel cherished and safe.

“So, how was your day?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence as you strolled through the quiet neighborhood.

“Same old, same old,” he replied, glancing sideways at you. “Just trying to keep everything together at the office. But I couldn’t stop thinking about tonight.”

The porch light illuminated both of your melanated skin, peeking at the modest one-story house with its pretty walls of light blue as both of you walked toward the door and Kelvin opened it for you. Feeling the tension rise as you thanked him.

As you walked inside the house, the scent of garlic, and herbs wafting through the air. The spacious living room is filled with decor of butterscotch caramel and macaroon cream white, and the large circle shaped lamp glistens, casting a bright glow over you. Their house was so tidy and smelled fresh of citrus and something sweet.

Aaron was in the kitchen, his back turned to you, focusing on the three grey plastic plates of spaghetti sprinkled with basil leaf and parmesan cheese, a loaf of garlic bread on the side. Carefully pouring red wine into the glasses, you can tell he put in extra effort to make this night special tonight, and your heart swelled with affection.

“Hello, gorgeous, how are you? You look beautiful tonight,” he called out, turning to face you with a radiant smile. He made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey, Aaron! I'm doing great. I can say the same about you,” you replied, your voice laced with admiration.

He wore a fitted black tee shirt that clung to his toned physique, pants hugged around his legs.

He approached you, pulling you into a warm embrace that felt like a blanket. The way he held you, firm yet gentle, remained of the safety you felt when you were with both him and Kelvin.

You missed this part of a relationship, the love they give right back to you, the way they would love harder, give affection.

The three of you ate delicious dinner, sipped red wine and laughed all night long, sharing stories of your childhoods and first jobs, embarrassing moments at work in the office.

“Wait, what happened?” Aaron asked, chuckling with you.

“I thought that the new intern was going to help with my presentation, but she ended up uploading the wrong flies to the projector during the meeting!” You recounted, tears of laughter streaming down your face.

Kelvin and Aaron erupted into laughter, their voices blending together in a sweet-sounding melody that through your ears. All that pressure and anxiety was gone.

“Honestly, you handled it like a champ, I would've just shut down the meeting and ran out of there,” Kelvin said, wiping a tear from his eye.

“You’re too funny Kelvin, you know that Y/N tries her best out there, she even managed to keep us in line,” Aaron chimed in.

“You guys make it easy, besides I couldn't have done it without the greatest assistants in the world,” you replied with a grin.

The last remnants of spaghetti were wiped from the plates and the clattering of cutlery came to a halt, the three of you leaned back on the couch, satisfied and full.

Kelvin broke the silence, his voice audible and thoughtful. “You know, we’ve been thinking about our earlier conversations about…us” his eyes darted between you and Aaron, gauging your reaction.

Your breath hitched from the intense eye contact between you, Aaron and Kelvin. You leaned forward, “What do you mean? Kelvin?”

He licked his soft, plump lips, collecting thoughts as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “I’ve been serious about the idea of a poly relationship, I think it could work for us,”

You felt a rush of emotions flowed through you—-surprise, excitement, and a piece of apprehension. You had been contemplating this possibly for a while, but hearing it out loud made your heart race.

“I mean, we already have a strong connection with you, and we care for you and each other deeply, and I think adding that layer of intimacy could be beautiful. We wouldn't have to hide how we feel about you, it would be real.” Kelvin said, his tone earnest.

Aaron shifted in his seat, his brows furrowing slightly. He was always the quiet yet cautious one, weighing on every option before making a decision. “It’s not that I'm against it, but it's a big step, I just want to make sure we’re all on the same page.

You nodded, understanding the concern that lingered. “Actually, I've thought about it too, Aaron. I worry about the same things. But I also believe we can do this,”

Aaron chimed in, smiling slightly. His shoulders relaxed as he absorbed your words. “Well, that's good. As long as we establish guidelines, rules and a safe word.”

Words caught in your throat, you fantasized about this so many times. You could imagine what pleasure you experience.

“Then it’s settled, we’re in a poly relationship.”

You almost couldn't believe that it was actually happening but now, these two were all yours. “Okay, how about we celebrate this moment with a good night of pleasure hm?”

The boldness from you almost shocked them but you'd been waiting for this moment. They exchanged sinful grins and then slid off their shirts while you gently slid off your joggers and sweater, you were already getting hot and you turned on the fan. The cool air satisfied your hot flashes.

“Sit,” Aaron demanded with his voice raising an octave, his hand patting his lap, you quickly scooted over the couch and seated yourself on his thighs, they were thick and the candlelight flickered on his light fawn skin.

“May we touch you, love?” Aaron asked in your ear.

“Yes, please. Touch me, fuck me.”

You were without a bra, though you did wear panties beneath your outfit. Your finger delicately traced the detailed tattoo on Aaron’s right arm, each design telling its own story. Kelvin knelt before you, gazing up with a mischievous smile, until Aaron's hands gripped the back of your knees and parted your legs for Kelvin.

Kelvin’s fingers intertwined with the waistband of your panties, sliding them off with ease. His soft lips began to tease your clitoris, while his fingers pumped the slickness between your folds. You let out a wild moan, your legs trembling in Aaron’s firm grasp. “Let him eat, Y/N,” he whispered, trailing kisses behind your ear.

Aaron’s strong hands enveloped your breasts, kneading them in a rhythmic motion, his fingers pinching your nipples as they became erect. “Please...Kelvin...Aaron…” you whimpered softly, your hips moving in sync with Kelvin’s tongue as it traced tantalizing patterns on your sensitive folds.

“But I love the way you taste; it’s even better than I imagined,” Kelvin groaned, slurping your essence. He suckled and kissed your slick folds as if they were your own lips.

Aaron retrieved handcuffs and a vibrator from the dresser, a sly grin spreading across his face. You nodded in anticipation. “Did you order these for me?” you asked, your voice quivering with excitement while you moaned from the escalating sensations. “Focus on him,” Aaron spoke up in a demanding deep tone, His fingers brushed against your wrists, setting off a spark that coursed through your body.

As Aaron fastened the fluffy handcuffs around your wrists, a shiver ran down your spine. A storm brewed in Kelvin’s gaze, his eyes narrowing as you moaned from the pressure of his thick fingers curling inside you.

You instinctively tried to close your legs from the pleasure, but Kelvin held them apart. “What about me? I’m not finished with you yet, baby,” he urged, his intent clear.

You felt something in the pit of your gut, a familiar knot getting tighter and tighter. Hinting toward your climax, You felt your juices trickling down her thighs, and you rolled your hips against his fingers, rubbing your thighs together in desperation.

"Please, I need to cum," you whined, tears streaming down your cheeks. But Kelvin’s eyes fixed on your face as you contorted in pleasure. A wave crashed over into a tiny pool.

"Why should you cum when you've been giving Aaron some attention sweetheart?" Kelvin said, his breath hot against her skin. "You need to learn your lesson first."

Her essence coated his fingers as it soaked onto the sheets, and Aaron’s palm smacked your ass roughly, causing his woman to let out a squeal. Plunged his fingers deeper into you, hitting your G-spot with precision. “Fuck! Fuck! Kel!”

With a wicked grin, he finally relented. "You can come now beautiful," he purred.

The knot in your stomach tightened, and you came hard. Aaron and Kelvin watched you come intensely, their eyes locked on you, they fell in love all over again, your release was explosive, and the couch was soaked with your juices. She trembled, gasping for air, as the mind-blowing orgasm left you shaken.

Panting, you collapsed back against Aaron’s chiseled chest, your body spent and sated. Aaron removed the handcuffs, gently stroking your wrists as she came down from your high. Kissing your wrist as if were a queen in a fairytale. “Are you okay?”

She nodded weakly, a lazy smile spreading across her face. “Y-yeah, that was amazing..”

“Now that you had your punishment, how about taking both of us?”

“Both of you? I'm not into the backdoor shit guys,” You shot back, your brows raising.

The men shook their heads, “Neither are we, but we gonna do it only in the front, let’s get a safe word?” Aaron asked in gentleness.

“Pineapple?” you quickly spoke up, but you wanted to turn up the heat.

“Good girl,” they said together.

"C-can you get the vibrator from the dresser?" You panted, your chest heaving up and down. He hummed in reply before he kissed your cheek.

Kelvin grabbed the vibrator from inside the dresser with a sly smirk across his face, "You ready? He asked, his tone deepened. Kelvin and Aaron pulled off their pants and boxers, allowing them to hit the carpet.

You looked up at him, your eyes hazy with desire. "Yes," you breathed. "I'm ready."

He turned on the vibrator, its low buzz filling the room as he positioned it against your clit. You moaned, arching your back off the bed, "Ouuu! F-fuckk!" you sobbed, your nails sunk into his triceps as you left a trail of marks on his skin, hissing through his teeth, he rolled the vibrator around your throbbing clit. The heat and vibration sent shockwaves, making your jolt and shake weakly, a testament to your pleasure.

"I think you deserve a reward." Aaron cooed, his hand cupping her cheek, kissing her passionately. Aaron lined his dick towards your wet pussy and gradually slid in between your swollen folds, relishing the sensation of your tight walls clenching around him. He gritted his teeth tight, blood drew from his lush lip, each thrust left him breathless. “So fucking..tight,” He grunted, the tightness of you made him almost nut.

"Damn...this pussy is so pretty and perfect, just like you," he murmured, planting a tender kiss on her temple as he began to move his hips in a slow, but forceful rhythm. She shivered from the familiar feeling of him inside of her, each other brought to the edge, waves crashed into a multitude, electricity tingling.

Aaron continued to thrust into you as Kelvin deftly maneuvered the vibrator around your sensitive clit, eliciting moans of pleasure from you. It made him feel left out, until you decided for Kelvin, “W-wait, stop, Aaron..can you pull out? I need Kelvin..”

Kelvin’s smirk curled on his face and he quickly passed the vibrator to Aaron which he didn't mind at all, he chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Looks like I’m not the only one who wants to take charge tonight,” he said, pulling out slowly, relishing the way your body reacted to his departure.

Kelvin wasted no time, positioning himself between your slick legs, “Fuck, Ready for me?” he asked, his voice deep and sultry, making your clit jump from that, kissing down on your lip.

“Yes, I'm ready,” you said, nodding eagerly, your body craving the fullness he promised.

As Kelvin pushed inside you, you gasped and moaned loudly, feeling the delicious stretch. “Fuck…you’re filling me…up..” you groaned, moving your hips with the man, feeling his hips touch with yours, setting a fast pace that made your toes curl.

Aaron, still holding the vibrator, watched intently, his breath hitching at the sight before him. “You’re doing amazing taking him, love,” he encouraged, turning the vibrator back on and placing it against your clit once more.

Kelvin quickened his thrusts, your nails dug into his back, and threw your head back onto the pillow. With practiced ease, you took every inch of him. "You're so beautiful takin' this dick," Kelvin groaned deeply, biting his lips. Aaron adjusted the vibrator to a faster pace, circling it over her swollen clit, eliciting loud, raspy screams from you.

Despite the ache and swelling, your pussy clenched and creamed around him, bringing her closer to release. Tears welled in your eyes, but you pushed through, determined to reach her peak.

Aaron leaned down, kissing you passionately as he turned the vibrator up a notch. “You’re going to come again, aren’t you?” he whispered against your lips, watching the pleasure build in your expression.

“Yes! I can’t hold it!” you cried out, your body thrumming with anticipation. The heat coiled within you, tightening with every thrust from Kelvin and the relentless buzz against your sensitive clit.

“Let go, baby. We’ve got you,” Aaron urged, his voice smooth and soothing, anchoring you as you teetered on the edge.

The skin-to-skin slapping filled the room, your body jerked as you cried out, your orgasm exploding through your body. “Make a fucking mess,” he groaned out, kissing on your neck.

He withdrew from her and collapsed on top of you, they both panted for breath, their bodies slick with sweat and used-up passion. Kelvin rolled off her, pulling his lover into his arms as they both lay there. "You good?," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I'm good, baby," you replied, snuggling into his embrace. Kelvin slid off the bed as he scooped his you up in his arms bridal style, sauntering into the bathroom and kissing her cheek, while Aaron cleaned up the mess, she shook weakly in his arms, "Let's run you a bath baby girl." he added, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies, she giggled at her husband.

————-

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yoshhii · 4 months ago

Text

SNOWBALL FIGHT— s. todoroki

the first snow of the season has fallen overnight. transforming the ua grounds into a winter wonderland. from the common room window, you could see a blanket of white covering the courtyard, the branches of the trees heavy with fresh snow. the air inside was cold, but it had nothing on the chilly breeze that drifted in whenever someone opened the door.

you were bundled up in a blanket on the couch, sipping hot cocoa as you watched the snowflakes continue to fall. it was peaceful, and you were just about to sink deeper into your little cocoon of warmth when you heard footsteps approaching.

"(y/n)."

you glanced up to see your friend shoto todoroki standing in front of you, his usual calm expression softening slightly as his eyes met yours. he was wearing his winter uniform jacket, but the scarf around his neck looked new, a bright red that matched the side of his hair.

"hey, shoto," you greeted with a smile. "you need anything?"

"i was just about to go outside for a walk in the snow," he said, his voice as quiet and composed as ever. "would you like to join me?"

you blinked in surprise. this was the first time you've seen todoroki do anything with someone, let alone be the one to ask. so the fact that he was asking you made your heart skip a beat. you quickly nodded, setting your mug down and grabbing your coat and scarf.

"i'd love to," you replied, trying to hide the blush spreading across your face.

once you were both bundled up, you stepped outside together. the crisp, cold air bit at your cheeks, but it wasn't unpleasant—it was the kind of cold that made everything feel fresh and alive. the snow crunched softly beneath your boots as you walked beside shoto, your breath visible in the frosty air. for a few minutes, neither of you said anything, just enjoying the quiet beauty of the snow-covered world around you. every now and then, you'd catch him glancing over at you, as if checking to make sure you weren't too cold.

"you really like the snow, don't you?" you asked, noticing the small smile playing at the corners of his lips.

the duo haired boy nodded, his gaze shifting to the sky. "it's... calming. there's something peaceful about it. the cold is familiar."

you nodded, understanding what he meant. his quirk made him naturally attuned to the cold, so it made sense that winter would be a comforting time for him. still, you couldn't help but feel a little concerned about how cold it was, especially since you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers. as if sensing your discomfort, todoroki stopped walking and turned to face you. "are you cold?"

"i'm fine," you said quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. but shoto frowned slightly, clearly not convinced.

without saying a word, he gently reached for your hands, his touch was soft and gentle. you felt a sudden rush of warmth as his left hand—his fire side—enveloped yours, the heat immediately seeping through your gloves. it was soothing, and you couldn't stop the sigh of relief that escaped your lips.

"better?" he asked, his mismatched eyes watching you closely.

you nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up—not from the warmth, but from how close he was. "yeah, much better. thank you."

shoto's expression softened, and for a moment, there was a glint of something else in his eyes. he kept your hands in his for a few more seconds before letting go, but the warmth lingered even after he stepped back. "we can go inside if you'd like," he offered.

"no, it's okay," you said, smiling at him. "i'm really enjoying this. besides, it's not every day i get to experience winter with someone who can keep me warm like that."

a small smile tugged at his lips. there was something about the expression he made, almost as if he was shy. "i'm glad."

you continued walking, the snow falling gently around you. the quiet between you was comfortable, and even though neither of you spoke much, there was something special about the way shoto stayed close to you, making sure you didn't get too cold.

eventually, you reached a small clearing where the snow was untouched. shoto paused, looking around as if lost in thought. you followed his gaze, admiring the beauty of the scene. without warning, you bent down, scooping up a handful of snow and quickly forming it into a ball. before shoto could react, you tossed it at him, hitting him square in the chest. his eyes widened in surprise as the snow splattered across his coat.

"(y/n)!" he exclaimed, with surprise and amusement.

you couldn't help but laugh at the look on his face, and before you knew it, another snowball was flying in your direction. you barely dodged it, yelping as you ducked behind a nearby tree.

what followed was a playful snowball fight that had both of you laughing, something rare from shoto but heartwarming nonetheless. his aim was almost too good, but you managed to get a few hits in yourself. eventually, you both called a truce, breathless and covered in snow, but grinning from ear to ear.

as you stood there, catching your breath, todoroki looked at you, his expression soft and warm despite the cold around you.

"i had a good time today," he said quietly, his voice sincere.

"me too," you replied, smiling. "we should do this again sometime."

he nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he spoke again. "next time, i'll make sure you don't get cold at all."

your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't help but smile wider. "i'll hold you to that."

216 notes · View notes

hiro-doodlez · 2 months ago

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“Whats your favorite duo dynamic” oh i dunno maybe

SUN AND MOON

ORANGE AND PURPLE

EXTROVERT AND INTROVERT

:>3 AND :|

SILLY AND TIRED

TRAUMA HAVER AND TRAUMA HAVER

HYPERACTIVE AND CHILL

HOT COCOA AND MONSTERS

SUN AND MOON

ADHD AND AUTISM

RAINBOW AND MONOCHROME

BUTTERFLY AND MOTH

CLINGY AND ACCEPTS IT

ORANGE CAT AND BLACK CAT

HAVE I SAID SUN AND MOON YET

LOVES THEM AND LOVES THEM

#sighs #lawlu #ink sans #error sans #ko #tko #mikey #donnie #monkey king #six eared macaque

93 notes · View notes

twstfanblog · 8 months ago

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*~Period Drama~* Wednesday

A/N: Sorry this took me so fucking long. There is no real excuse, I kept getting sick and then with the intense move we had to do a lot was happening in the few months. WordCount: 7.1K Warnings: She/They OC Pronouns

~Taglist @twistedcece @deltrea @krenenbaker @koebishrimpuwu @cat100200 @emyluwinter @obsessionswithfandoms @ady-hilborn @lucid-stories @girl-nahh-two @itz-hydrodeptus-foxy7 @chyluna @riddlesimps @death-the-jo @a-twistedheartslonging @qixlin @chaosistheonlyway @welcome-to-my-horde @abell2029cluster @kirans-wonderland @coffee-or-hot-cocoa @the-ace-reader @iamsoconfusedallofthetime @chroniccorvus @marvelous-maxi @prolonged-eyecontact @lozplayer @jabberwocky-warrior @thateldribitch @bun-lapin @mel1rose @ladyraeka @ladyzsgolla @kimdourden @noncreativepage-blog @girl-nahh-two @shironakuronatasa @colombia-chan @roseapov @anunholyabomination Start, Part 1 (Octavinelle), Part 2 (Heartslabyul), Part 3 (Savanaclaw), Part 3.5 (Diasomnia pt.1), Part 4 (Diasomnia pt2), Part 5 (Here), Part 6 (Scarabia)

The Diasomnia crew left before Yuu even finished their breakfast on Wednesday. Crewel was not happy seeing Malleus clinging to them when he came to deliver their dinner last night, but the potions teacher didn't say anything past a scoff and an eye roll. Like the past few days the bicolored man had scolded them for their life choices, then shoved a pattern book at them and asked for their preferences.

Morning came, an Octavinelle student showed up with his arms shaking full of food for Yuu and the four Diasomnia students. Breakfast was a calm affair, only for Malleus to stand once he finished his food. He pressed a kiss to Yuu's forehead and gave a small blessing, wishing them a pleasant rest of their day before moving to leave the room.

Lilia called out to him, raising an eyebrow, “Where are you off to? We still have a good hour before we need to go back to Diasomnia to prepare for classes. I'd think you'd want to continue your duty as the royal heating pad…” he chuckled lightly, ignoring Sebek's angered snort.

“I'm aware and I had planned on it. But, I was going to make a stop in Octavinelle to speak with Azul while there was still time.”

…

Yuu fully turned around in their seat, raising an eyebrow at the smiling fae, “About what?”

Malleus only tilted his head in a conscious effort to appear cuter, “You are aware that I adore you, correct Yuu?”

“Malleus, that's my fucking- Don't- don't fucking bully Azul into agreeing with you.”

“I would never. I simply wish to speak to him civilly until we come to an agreement on things…”

Lilia looks up from his meal, already seeing what the younger fae was planning, “Malleus…”

“In fact, I'll bring Jamil with me. He should be a part of this conversation too.”

“Malleus-”

The horned fae had then disappeared in a flurry of green light. Lilia was quick to order Sebek and Silver to search the two dorms that Malleus was headed for while he started his search in Diasomnia; Malleus could be in either dorm. Each of them giving Yuu a rushed farewell before running out of Ramshackle, hopeful they'd find Malleus before he started his ‘conversation’ with the two sophomores.

Even Grim had left a few hours later, playfully stating one of them had to pick up the slack since Yuu wasn't allowed to attend class. Now that they were alone again, Yuu could physically feel their mood dropping. There were options, as there always were. Several friends that they could text throughout the day to keep their mind off of things. Cater, of course, but he was a 3rd year and Yuu could never really tell how serious he was about his schoolwork. Ace and Deuce were a choice, but Crewel might actually give them concussions if he caught them texting during homeroom. (They were filed under maybe, they can suffer in Ramshackle together if the Adeuce duo got concussed). They briefly thought of adding Lilia to that list then decided against it, along with Azul, Jamil, Silver and Sebek; they'd no doubt have their hands full of talking Malleus down.

Idia was most likely in his room dual-screening his classes and whatever RPG-mmo or anime he had started recently. Maybe he could answer them on why Ortho had been radio silent since they saw him on Saturday…

But, in the end, laziness won and Yuu simply returned to the nest Malleus had so lovingly crafted for them. It was warm and cozy, but definitely too big for just themselves; left too much space for their thoughts, mental conversations that told them of the multiple things they needed to do yet physically seemed too daunting at the moment. There were dishes to do that were never finished from Saturday, they definitely needed a shower, or at least to wash their face properly. Sighing, they just curled up in their too-big nest and closed their eyes. A nap fixes everything after all.

Three sharp knocks wake them up. Blinking in mild confusion before another three sharp knocks echo in the downstairs rooms. Yuu grabs their phone from outside the nest and looks at the time, only a few minutes past noon. Crewel must be bringing them lunch. But then they remembered Crewel had a horrible habit of thinking he was too good to knock on doors, simply opening and slamming them so hard he had no doubt gotten a door knob stuck in drywall before.

So who the hell-

The door opens, the sound of heels clicking against the hardwood floors flanked by more muted footsteps after the door was shut again. Yuu looked up from their phone to see Vil walk into the entryway of the lounge, hands filled with a cloth-wrapped package and a shiny hydro flask complete with a teal straw. From the side of the archway, Yuu could see Epel and Rook poking their heads in with expressions of wariness and glee respectfully.

“Oh, so you are awake. I knocked and you deliberately ignored me.” The actor rolled his eyes, walking further into the room and placing the package and hydro flask at the edge of the nest as faux offerings, “I took the liberty to make you lunch to reflect your body's needs. I expect you to eat it all.”

Yuu looked at the packaged food, no doubt filled with Vil's horrible idea of a ‘balanced’ meal; AKA, unseasoned. They blink, looking up to the junior, “I just woke up.”

Vil's expression grows more exasperated, the corner of his lip curling over his almost unnoticeable fangs in a mild sneer, “It's past noon…”

“Wow, Vil. You're so good at telling time. That's an amazing skill you got there…” Yuu's tone was flat, eyes slowly blinking as they kept focus on Vil's displeased face, “Did you train to read clocks or like-”

“Alright, that's enough out of you-”

“Mon vieille amor! It's been so long since I've seen your visage.” Rook rushed in, kneeling in front of Yuu's prone form before they could actually gode Vil into a scuffle, “I've been in a state of heartbreak since Crewel placed the visitor ban on your home. Though my woes eased and soul sung when I noticed you were still accepting guests regardless! Is company an aid or a sacrifice during your plight?”

Yuu looks to Rook, making sure the Florian could see them blinking one eye at a time; a common way Yuu could silently tell Rook to ‘Shut up’, “...Could be better…could be better…”

Vil's brows creased, his annoyed expression moving to confusion, “That…is not answering the question…”

“What are you, a fucking lawyer?” Yuu rubs their eyes, “I just woke up, give me a minute.”

“Honestly-”

“Isit true yur bleeding out yur butt?” Epel called out from the entryway, ducking back when Vil quickly snapped to glare over his shoulder at the first-year.

“Epel!”

“A-ah wanna know!”

Yuu finally propped themselves up, leaning weight on their elbows as they looked at Epel in confusion, “Why the fuck would I be bleeding out my ass!?”

“That's what Deuce said!”

“Why is Deuce saying I'm bleeding out my ass!?”

Epel shrugs, his face just as bewildered as Yuu's, “Ah don' know!? He said Riddle said sum shit about it-”

“Epel.”

The first-year shut his mouth, looking away from Vil's no doubt glacial glare and tapping his pointer fingers together before he clears his throat. Epel spoke carefully, his accent being lost in his conscious effort to not swear, “Um…Deuce read some of Riddle's notes? I don't think he read them right, but then again I don't really…know where you're bleeding from…”

Yuu scoffs, “It's not my ass, I'll tell you that much…”

Rook perks up, eyes wide as his hands cover his mouth in a show of surprise, “Mon Dieu! I had hoped I misheard Monsieur Crewel. Are you truly bleeding from such an area, mon vieille amor…?”

“Ye…”

Vil gave them a concerned glance, opening his mouth only to whip around to glare at Epel's softly muttered ‘gross’. Once he was properly scolded into silence, Vil looked back to Yuu, “Are you feeling alright? I heard from Crewel that he wasn't going to give you any more pain potions. Which is valid, so many potions in such a short amount of time isn't healthy for the body. But that does leave you without proper pain relief…”

“Lowkey, it’s so fucking weird you and Crewel hang out as like puh-seudo equals. Like, just admit you're both part of a fucked up clone project to destroy teenage boys through fashion and aggressively sharp eyeliner.”

Vil's look of concern quickly fell, glaring down his nose at the equally stone-faced first-year, “Oh, are we fighting? Is that what you decided is going to happen? I come to you civilly, with food and concern, and you decide we're going to have a petty argument as my thanks. Understandable. You are a child.”

“How's it feel to fight a child and lose? Because you are, you're losing.”

“It feels like listening to you prattle on is clogging my pores…”

“You know what pores are?” Yuu gasps, mockingly covering their mouth as they whisper to Rook, “Embarrassing.”

“What does that MEAN-”

Epel and Rook share a look, letting the two continue with their back-and-forth ‘bickering’. To the outside view, the two seemed to actually be arguing. But Epel knew Yuu and Rook knew Vil. While Yuu was a bully at their core, the way they poked at Vil was much softer than the people they actually verbally bit at. And Rook knew his queen was an icon of polite rebuffs, though that wasn't always his thoughts. Vil felt the need to chew people out every now and again as any stressed individual would. Yuu simply was a worthy opponent of wordplay.

The two film research members did enjoy each other's company though, they wouldn't keep spending time with each other if they didn't. If they found joy in verbally slapping at each other and critiquing bad movies until they were a fine paste, who were they to judge them…?

Truly, ‘Sibling Core’ as Cater once joked (only to be promptly cursed by Vil to trip every third step until he took back his statement).

“You're like an egg…that was cracked in the carton and just got a sticky film all over the other eggs so you don’t wanna touch them.”

Vil tilted his head back to let out a single laugh before glaring back down at Yuu, “Oh, I'm a residue now? You're one to talk, you greasy onion. You look a mess, your hair is even more a bird's nest than normal, and I can see the state of your skin from here. You clearly haven't been using the skincare routine I gifted you…”

…

Yuu opened and then closed their mouth, a repeated action that made Vil raise a single eyebrow. The star already had another comeback locked and loaded, but he could be patient for Yuu to think up a response. He had to be fair after all…

But the comeback never came. Instead, Yuu started to blink rapidly, a look of frustration blooming on their face before they simply bowed their head and let out a single sniffle. Then one sniffle became a choked back sob, as they fully curled into themselves to hide from view.

Rook straightened himself beside the nest, already reaching out to comfort Yuu, “Oh, mon-” only to be shoved out of the way as Vil dropped to his knees to grab at Yuu's shoulders.

“Are you crying!? No, I'm being completely serious, are you actually crying?” When the response was another wet-sounding sniffle and whimper, he climbed into the nest, a look of panicked determination slowly overtaking his face, “Don't-don't cry. Come on, let me- is it the cramps? Here, this yoga pose should help ease the pain. Let me get you into it.”

Vil worked quickly but gently, managing to put Yuu into a sitting position with their knees bent and the soles of their feet pressed together. He crawled deeper into the nest, placing himself behind them and wrapped his arms around their middle when the crying first-year tried to fold back in on themselves.

“No! You're going to hurt yourself, you are not that flexible. Is this helping? I have other poses that should help. Please, stop crying. We can watch one of your horrifically scarring children's movies if you stop.”

Epel had retreated back to the entryway, gripping onto the wood and looking at Yuu in confused terror, “What's happening!? What did you do!?”

Vil glared at Epel, shaking his head, “Don't you blame this on me- Yuu, don't tell Crewel I made you cry.”

Yuu sniffled, trying to lay limply in Vil's hold but the 3rd year kept them upright, “I'm sorry, I don't wanna cry anymore…”

Rook had pulled himself from the floor, gently cupping Yuu's cheek as he gazed at them in worry, “Mon petite! What has caused such sorrow? Truly mon roi’s words weren't so harsh…?”

“I just…I feel bad. I haven't really felt good and it makes it hard to do things. I gotta list of chores I haven't done because I've been on the edge of hysteria for the past few days. I haven't showered since Saturday because I just wanna sleep and standing is annoying. Vil, I was gonna call you Monday, I promise. but then I went to school and everything was annoying and then I threw up and I forgot-”

Yuu's ramble slowly turned into more tearful crying. Vil was only mildly elated, as his words seemed to simply be a trigger instead of the main cause. The issue now was that they didn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. And the last thing Vil wanted was for the first year to manage to cry themselves actually sick during his visit. Crewel would never let him hear the end of it…

Vil reached out of the nest, grabbing the thermos and trying to place the straw into Yuu's wailing mouth, “Here, have some smoothie. Get a healthy liquid in your body-”

“I don't want your fucking green juice, Vil!”

Everyone subtly leaned away from Yuu, eyes wide at the raw anger they suddenly displayed. Vil still pressed the cool flask to the first-year's face. Both to pointedly demand they drink the smoothie and to help cool the flushing of Yuu's cheeks.

“It's not my blend. I used nothing but fruit in this! Strawberries, peaches, and mangos!” And a handful of spinach because lord forbid this child eat a vegetable; but he wasn't going to tell them that, “It's a treat, since you've been so ill…”

Yuu cast a disbelieving look to Vil, face pinched together before they finally took a sip from the flask's straw. At the promised taste of nothing but fruit, they took another gulp. Taking the flask from Vil they weakly say, “It's good…thank you…”

Just as the Pomefiore trio thought they were in the clear, Yuu took in a shuddering breath that quickly turned back to a tearful muttering, “Sorry. I'm serious, I'm trying to stop crying.”

Epel called out from the archway, finally stepping fully into the room now that Vil was half grappling with Yuu, “What ya even cryin’ about? Ah know Vil's smoothies suck but they aint always that bad…”

Vil muttered briefly for Epel to stop blaming him for Yuu's crying fits. Yuu had taken another pause to gulp at the chilly fruit smoothie, taking the offered wrap Rook had handed them from the now-opened lunchbox.

“Dude, I've been a fucking train wreck for the past half week. This shit is normally over by now and I'm still dropping clots.”

Rook and Vil share a mildly horrified look at the mention of clots. Why are clots involved in this? Are clots supposed to be involved?

“I'm reaching new mental and emotional ATLs at, like, random intervals, I've got a sink full of dishes that I don't wanna do and I don't wanna ask anyone to do. I gotta shower, that's just a fucking fact; I don't wanna shower because while I'll feel great afterwards, that's a whole mental race just to get into the shower for some reason. And I'm also upset because I've gotta do so much laundry once this shit is over because I've been bleeding all over the nice things you guys have given me for the past four days-”

“Okay, okay.” Vil quickly shushed Yuu, guiding the chicken wrap from the lunch into their mouth in an effort to stop their hysterical spiral. Once Yuu was chewing the food, he snapped his fingers and called his other dorm members to attention, “Epel, go to Crewel and get the surprise. Whatever he has ready, simply package it and bring it back here. Rook, go to Pomefiore and bring me my spa kit.”

Epel nodded, turning around and rushing out of the room to race back to the school with nothing said other than ‘I'm on it’. Rook smiles, kneeling on one knee and bowing with a hand over his heart.

“Which kit would you prefer, mon roi?”

“The big one.” Vil looked to the freshman in his arms, sighing softly before turning back to Rook, “And stop by Sam's to get them another treat…” He smiles at Yuu, tilting his head in a questioning manner, “Would you like a treat, dear little onion?”

“...” Yuu sniffled, “I want a chocolate bar…”

Vil nodded, petting Yuu's head, “Get them a dark chocolate bar-”

“I want a milk chocolate bar…”

“Dark chocolate is healthier, onion…”

Yuu sniffles, voice breaking at random intervals as they start to cry again, “I want a milk chocolate bar-”

“Fine. Oh my seven. Rook, get them a milk chocolate candy bar and my large spa kit from my room.”

“Oui!” With a chuckle and tip of his hat, Rook turned to exit the room, “Please no fighting while alone, you both fight dirty when no one is looking. Je reviens!” He waves as he disappears around the corner.

With Rook gone, Vil sighed. Mildly resigning himself to the act of cuddling his pseudo-sister until the others return. Gently carding his hand through their hair, he couldn't fight the grimace his face did at feeling its texture.

“Lord, your hair is greasy…”

Yuu looks at him, face almost pathetic with tears in their eyes, “Vil-”

“I'm going to fix it! It's fine! Shhhhh, eat your wrap. It was strangely hard to make food for you…”

Yuu takes another bite of the wrap, speaking around their full mouth, “I can see why. It actually tastes good, that must of been hard for you to do.”

Vil scoffs, petting Yuu's head as he glared off to the side and mumbled under his breath, “You are so lucky you're in pain…”

Epel was mildly surprised he managed to beat Rook back to Ramshackle. With an oblong box tucked under his arm he entered the dorm, stopping briefly in the entry hall as he heard music. Closing the door behind him, he walked further in; the sound of the upbeat music getting louder and accompanied by soft groans.

“Hello?” Epel peaked into the lounge, his confused face fading seeing Vil lead a very unwilling looking Yuu in exercise.

Vil's voice cut through the music, jacket off as he gracefully did knee lifts to the beat of the music, “ -One and two, and one and two, and- knees up, onion! No wonder you feel awful, you've been doing nothing but laze around for days straight.”

Yuu groans, but picks their knees up higher in the standing knee lifts Vil had bullied them into doing, “Fuck you! I've been in pain for the past few days! I'm allowed to be lazy!”

The third-year rolls his eyes, his only show of solidarity being he was exercising alongside Yuu, “Please. You've become so lazy in a matter of days that your own body is deteriorating; You could normally do this easily; I'm not letting you whine and pout your way out keeping yourself healthy.”

Yuu glared over to Vil, shaking their head slowly yet staying in pace with his knee lifts, “I swear to the Seven, I'm gonna find your fucking Eros Era white suede jacket you hide from me and I’m gonna fucking bleed all over it.”

Vil glared back with a matching intensity, “You stay away from my white clothing, you little-”

“Ah'm back!” Epel quickly yelled out, holding the box into the air, “Ah got the goods!”

“Oh perfect timing, the infant was getting on my nerves…” Vil was quick to stop the music, handing a panting Yuu the hydro flask before walking over to Epel. He clicked his tongue, seeing Crewel had taken the time to wrap the box before giving it to Epel, “How many did he finish?”

“Hm…” Epel looked down at the box; matte black wrapping paper and a bright teal ribbon tied into a bow. Thinking back he tried to remember just how many colorful pieces of cloth he saw Crewel throw into the box, “Ah think…around nine? Maybe ten? There were a lot of patterns…”

“Good enough…” Vil sighed, but took the box from Epel's hands, calling out to Yuu chugging from the hydro flask, “Yuu! Come here, we have a gift for you in this trying time.”

“If you give me more health shit, I will actually start swinging…”

“Just open the box.”

Yuu rolls their eyes at Vil's annoyed pout, snatching the box away from him and tearing the paper away. Once the box was bare, they opened it and looked inside in confusion, “What are these? Fabric samples?”

They reach into the box, pulling out one of the ‘samples’ only to see it had already been cut and stitched into the shape of boyshort panties. They almost put the underwear back into the box, a mix of annoyance and frustration at seeing the cute patterns. What use was underwear to them right now? They would just ruin it by bleeding through it…

Then they notice the black fabric seeming to take up the entire inner lining of the panties. Yuu raised an eyebrow, rubbing their thumb against the foreign feeling material, “What…is this?”

Vil smiled, watching as Yuu seemed to slowly realize what they were holding, “These took quite some doing; Crewel has been working on these articles since Saturday, I believe. He had to consult with Ms. Oster on what materials would respond best to the blood absorption potion, since gauze would certainly be unpleasant against such an area…”

Yuu's eyes seemed to widen, glittering as they looked through the box at the adorable patterns, “He made me period panties!? Holy shit, I love this!” They squealed, moving to rush off to put their new underwear on, “I'm gonna wear them right now!”

Before Yuu could rush past Epel, Vil gripped the back of their shirt and yanked them back, “Oh no, you're not. You're going to get into the shower and scrub up. Then we're going to wait until Rook is back with my spa kit and then you're going in the tub.”

“Does the mold in the air give you hyper bitch powers? Is that why you act like a total mom anytime you're in here?”

Epel mumbled under his breath, looking at the corners of the room in concern, “Wait, there's still mold…?”

Vil scoffed, snatching the box and underwear from Yuu's hands pointing to the stairs, “Just get in the shower before you start growing mold.”

Yuu mumbles in a high pitched tone, mocking Vil as they walked up the stairs.

Rook had luckily appeared only a few minutes after Yuu had exited the shower. Though firmly scrubbed down and ready for a long soak, Vil had spent the past five minutes critiquing Yuu's unwashed hair. The annoyed first-year stating Vil was the one who said he was going to ‘fix it’.

What Yuu wasn't expecting was the size of Vil's ‘big’ spa kit. They had assumed it would at best be a briefcase filled with a few high quality bottles of bubble bath and skin care. Instead Rook walked back into the lounge wheeling behind him what Yuu could only think was the biggest rolling suitcase they had ever seen in their life. It was dark indigo, gold trimmed and hard shelled; a small lock keeping it closed.

Rook sighed, pulling the suitcase to stand in front of him, “Mon roi, apologizes. I would have been back sooner but you had changed the passcode to access your more extensive kits…” He looks to Yuu, pulling a large candy bar from his breast pocket, “And your treat, mon petite!”

Yuu smiled, taking the candy from Rook and pocketing it in their fuzzy robe, “Oh, sick, thank you, Rook. Also, what the fuck is that?” They pointed to the hard plastic carrier, looking questioningly as Vil walked forward. They raise an eyebrow, watching Vil pull a key from a chain around his neck and unlock the suitcase, “Oh, damn; is this it? Is that the launch codes?”

“Shush. Now pick a fragrance; some of these oils do NOT mix nicely together…”

“Uh…floral?” Yuu watches as Vil rolls his eyes, and opens the suitcase.

The case had bottles upon bottles of various liquids strapped to the lid. In the bottom half, Vil folded out multi-shelved displays holding more secured glass and gold trimmed vials. The bottom of the suitcase holding a sealed container of white powder.

Both Epel and Yuu blinked in wonder as Vil seemed to build out an entire pantry’s worth of shelves. Rook stood behind them smiling. The other 3rd-year adored watching Vil work, the very fact this was only one of his kits never failed to amaze him.

“Honestly, the most basic…It's fine I can work with that…” Vil looks through the multiple shelves, grabbing vials from labeled sections. He snaps his fingers, conjuring an ornate bottle and filling it half way with the powder. Grabbing vials, he delicately pours small amounts into the bottle, “Jasmine…Vanilla…and…” he smiles, grabbing one more vial, “And Lavender!” Vil pours the final oil into the bottle, grabbing a few other vials and adding them in before capping the bottle.

With a flick of his wrist, magic courses through the glass and mixes the contents perfectly. Vil smiles as he presents the ombred soap to Yuu, “There we are. One floral scented bubble bath to promote muscle relaxation, moisturize, and just a bit of skin protection.”

Yuu oo’s and aa’s, laughing at Vil's glare seeing they were clearly taunting him.

“Just go get in the tub. You've eaten, exercised, and showered off the days of grime. Now you can simply relax and let the warm water fully heal you.”

Yuu was already half up the stairs, smiling at the swirling colored soap in hand, “Don't gotta tell me twice…”

Ramshackle was a big building. It was hard to see at times with how massive the other ‘official’ dorms were, but Ramshackle was an insanely big home for two people alone. A fact that was discovered during the VDC.

There were many a locked room in Ramshackle; a fact Crowley seemed to find no issue with and only produced random keys to open the doors for them when he wanted to.

But, luckily for Yuu, during the VDC Rook had ‘revealed’ his love of kicking down doors. So of course Yuu let him kick to his heart's desires. And surprisingly, one room had been a massive bathroom; a small pool-sized indoor onsen that sat in a raised stone platform, the area seemingly themed after a jungle grotto. Kalim had concluded it was potentially a group bath, noting that behind the brittle vines were changing rooms and there was a clogged drain in the center of the room. Vil had been elated to see it, and after a thorough cleaning the group had taken to after practice soaks in the warm waters.

But now, it was simply Yuu's favorite bathtub.

They sighed contently, the bottle of bubble bath already half gone. Flora scented color changing bubbles blanketing them. A small towel over their face, they had no plans to leave the tub for the next four days if the water stayed toasty.

They sighed, hearing a knock on the door, “Come in, I guess…”

Vil opened the door lightly asking if they were covered before entering. When Yuu consented he stepped into the room, his arms filled with a basket holding a number of bottles and more towels.

“Honestly, you would waste the water to fill this tub up, just for yourself.”

Removing the towel on their face, Yuu flipped Vil off but didn't move as the third-year knelt beside them, “Leave me alone. It's my tub anyway. I'll waste the water if I want.” They sunk lower into the tub, ignoring Vil gently tugging on their hair to bring them to the edge.

“Come here, I'm washing your hair.”

“I already washed it.”

Vil tugged harder, fully jerking Yuu's head around as he glared. Their hair was an offensive texture, mildly wet, yet still clearly greasy, “You did not. Now stop being a brat and rest your head against the edge.”

Yuu groaned loudly, letting Vil place one of the towels at their neck before tilting their head back. Vil poured water over their hair, thoroughly soaking it before applying the first of many the products he had brought up.

Vil sighed, working the shampoo into Yuu's hair and scalp, muttering under his breath, “I swear, I have no idea what this aliment is but you've managed to deteriorate in a matter of days. And you went to classes in this state? Your motives don't add up if you were trying to keep this all a secret.”

“Are you here to just nag me and have the option to drown me if I talk back?” Yuu had deadpanned, blinking lazily at the ceiling. They tilted their head back further to look at Vil when he sighed heavily.

“I was very…concerned. Well connected you are, you seem to forget you are a teenage girl who's been displaced in a completely new world with no actual support system past your schoolmates. There was no telling what had happened to you when I didn't hear back…” Vil poured more water into Yuu's hair, rinsing out the suds and applying a second lather. “I take my care for you very seriously.”

Yuu huffed, rolling their eyes but keeping still as Vil cleaned their hair, “Yeah, is that why you made me exercise?”

“Yes.” Vil scoffed, rinsing Yuu's hair again and looking over his assortment before picking up a new bottle, “Annoying as you may be, you are one of the freshmen I've chosen to take under my wing. And as such I will help you reach your full potential.”

“By force?”

“If it comes to it; we both know in an actual fight I would win…” Vil hummed working the product through Yuu's hair, “I know whatever is happening is painful for you and that is tragic on its own. But lazing around was doing you no good in the long run. If anything it was making things worse since you barely had the energy to move.”

Yuu rolls their eyes, “Well, yeah…this shit hurts. I don't wanna move or do anything…”

“But once you did, you felt more energized, didn’t you?” At Yuu's silence he smirked in triumph, “Call me mean all you like, but I expect you to treat yourself properly at all times. That means eating healthy, exercising, and pampering yourself as needed. Since you are in pain and quarantined, I will pamper you myself today.”

“...” Yuu tilts their head back again, smiling at Vil who smiles back, “Thanks…” Yuu moves to fully relax in the tub, color shifting bubbles acting as a faux blanket while Vil massages the product into their hair.

Only a few moments passed before Yuu's eyes blinked open. The products smelling familiar yet still foreign, “Wait, what stuff are you using?”

Vil didn't answer, contently working more product into Yuu's hair.

Managing a glance to the basket, their eyes caught a familiar bottle that made them groan and attempt to escape Vil's grasp, “GOD DAMN IT, VIL!”

“I will drown you, stop fighting me-DON'T YOU SPLASH ME!”

Yuu scowled, glaring at an all too pleased Vil as he sat in the nest beside them applying a green tinted face mask to his cheeks. Their once straight hair had been restored into its natural state of fluffy 4A curls, “You just can’t let shit fucking be.”

“The very fact you willingly heat damage your hair to keep it straight is a crime I should kill you for.” Vil gently cupped a handful of curls in his hand, smiling as he bounced them lightly, “Your natural hair is gorgeous, you should wear it like this more option.”

“I should shave your head.”

“I should-”

Epel spoke from his spot beside Yuu, hair pinned back as he wore his own face mask, “Can y’all not fight when Ah'm like two inches away from ya?”

Vil huffed, rolling his eyes but releasing Yuu's hair, “We're not fighting.”

“Y’all are two cherry pits away from actually swinging on each other…”

Yuu snorted, whispering loudly to Vil so that Epel could still hear, “He's traumatized because me and Sebek bumped into him when we had a disagreement at a sleepover once-”

Epel glared, punching at Yuu's thigh, “You two rolled onta me while I was asleep and fought on top of me until Jack pulled ya off!”

Yuu whined, forcibly trying to kick Epel away from them as the other first year started to punch at them repeatedly, “Vil! Epel hit me!”

Vil hummed, checking his nails and barely acknowledging the two squabbling next to him, “Epel don't hit Yuu. She's already leaking blood.”

Epel groaned and made a series of grossed out noises before trying to escape Yuu's range.

Yuu hummed and lifted their sleep shirt, looking at their new brightly patterned underwear, “Leaking isn't a problem anymore. These bad boys are iron clad; I don't even feel damp.”

“Put your shirt down.” Vil groaned, quickly pulling Yuu's shirt down to cover their underwear properly. Rolling his eyes as Yuu flashed their panties one more time before he stood, “I'm going to make myself a snack for the movie.”

“Rook is making us snacks for the movie.”

“No, Rook is making you both snacks. I'm making myself a snack that isn't going to be an unhealthy mess drowned in mayo and salt.”

The third-year walked away, waving over his shoulder, “Don't fight and please, Epel don't eat the mask.”

Epel gave a noncommittal noise, already swiping a finger across his face. Don't eat the mask; don't make a face mask from bananas and avocados…

Silence passes over the room, Yuu clicking through their laptop to make sure their movie of choice was fully loaded and prepped for viewing. Epel would glance over to his friend before looking away. Before long he finally huffed and angled his body to face them directly.

“So…yur bleeding out your butt-”

“Not my ass, but go on.”

Epel scoffed rolling over to his back to stare at the ceiling, “So yur bleeding…and that's…normal?”

“Ye.”

“...” Epel's face pinches, his mind connecting the information yet still refusing it, “That sounds awful.”

Yuu chuckled, moving to lay down beside on their stomach, “Yeah, it fucking sucks. I wanna like…curl up and cry but also fist fight the sun.”

“It sounds like a curse. Like a really fucked up ole fae curse that they'd do to a cheater or somethin’. Make'em just leak blood for days…”

“...” Yuu's smile widened, “Could you imagine?” At Epel's confused expression they continued, “If you could, like…learn to cast this as a curse, who would you cast it on?”

“...” Epel hummed, brows creasing before he snapped his fingers, “Crewel.”

“Oh my god? WHY!?”

Epel giggled, “Ah mean, if it'll be anythin’ like yurs, we'd get a week off from lessons because he'd rather be in a ditch somewhere.”

Yuu snorted, “Or, he'd keep coming to classes and take his blood rage out on us.”

“Damn…true…”He nudges Yuu with his knee, raising an eyebrow, “Who would you curse?”

“...I mean if we're being correct, I would have started to sync up with the vaginas I spend the most time with. So…that'd actually be you and Vil.”

“No.”

“Yes. Could you imagine? All three of us synced up and trying to stay alive?”

“Ah would actually take ma’self out. The very idea of blood leakin’ outta me for days is so fuckin’ distressin’. But pair that with you and Vil? Ah couldn't survive…”

Yuu snorts, rolling their eyes and turning back to the laptop, “Weak bitch.”

Epel swings his arm to punch against Yuu's thigh again, “If ya could pick though, who'd it be?”

“Oh, Leona.”

Epel had to set up as he gagged, his laugh choking him, “Why!?”

“He already acts like he's got PMS. I wanna see if he just, like…slips into a coma-stop punching me!”

They laughed and giggled, shoving and smacking each other as they chose more of their friends they would ‘curse’.

Rook had appeared midway through Epel and Yuu recreating a WWE smackdown match. His blunt bangs pulled from his face by a sparkly fuzzy scrunchie.

“Ah! Such grace, such brutality. A duality of kin by spirit than blood. Marvelous, 100 points!”

Yuu spoke calmly, keeping Epel in a full nelson while the other first-year swore under his breath and squirmed, “Oh, hey Rook, did you need something?”

“Oui, mon petite amor. I wished to show you a new skill to aid you in this trying time. I will need you to release Monsieur Pommette to do so…”

Sighing, Yuu released Epel from their grasp and let him breath, “Did you leave Vil in my kitchen? With my poor defenseless seasonings?”

Rook's only reply was to pat Yuu on the head and sit beside them, “May I touch your body mon petite?”

“Rook, I'm begging you to learn how to speak to people in, like…some semblance of the average human being.”

Rook smiles, holding his hands out in silent command to place their body in his grasp.

Yuu sighs, elbowing a grumbling Epel beside them, “Can you make sure Vil doesn't actually throw out my seasonings he deems ‘unnecessary'?”

Epel grumbles a bit more but stands to walk into the kitchen. Once the other first-year was gone, Yuu placed both of their hands into Rook's waiting ones, “Okay. What are you showing me?”

Humming, Rook looked over their hands, his thumbs gently pressing into their palms periodically, “Is Acupuncture a practice in your world?”

“Yeah; it's the Eastern practice where you use needles on pressure points. Never had it done though, the idea of needles in my face was freaky.”

“Tres bien! It's similar then. I have always wondered if your body carried the same pressure points as ours, though I wasn't sure we were close enough to test such a theory. Be it physically or relationship wise.”

Rook grabs one of Yuu's hands in both of his own; one to cradle Yuu's palm gently, and the other making firm small circles in the place between their thumb and pointer finger.”

“Yeah…40 year marriage or not, I would not trust you near me with a pack of needles…”

Rook chuckles, fingers not stopping as they massage the point, “Luckily for me, these methods do not require needles. Though I do hope you will let me try one day.”

“Fuck no. You and needles are not something I wanna be in a room with- Oh…oh…”

“Ah! Is it taking effect?”

Yuu touched their head, blinking in mild astonishment, “My headache isn't so bad anymore.”

“And this is one of the few points I shall teach you! It is called Large Intestine 6, it can alleviate headaches. Though do be careful, you can bruise yourself with these methods.”

Rook then spent the next few minutes showing Yuu the functions of various pressure points to ease their period symptoms. He even gleefully showed them other points where pressure would cause pain and momentary complete bodily paralysis.

Rook hummed as he gently thumbed the skin on the back of Yuu's neck, “For maximum effect I would recommend applying pressure via an elbow jab.”

“I can't wait to stun Vil's arm the next time he tries to pull my ear while scolding me.”

“Please, do not. He will know I taught you this and back hand both of us into next week.”

Vil spoke as he and Epel walked back into the room, each carrying loaded trays, “Taught them what?”

“How to properly hold their head in a sitting position, mon roi!” Rook’s hand moved gently, firmly grasping the base of Yuu's skull and puppeteering their head to a more correct posture, “There we go! Now she may sit with her spine straight.”

Vil hummed, setting the large tray of snacks in front of the nest and looking Yuu over with a critical eye, “...I suppose it will have to do for now. This is a ‘Relax Day’ after all…”

Epel handed Yuu and Rook tall glasses of fruit smoothie, sitting beside Yuu and looking over their laptop, “Is the movie ready?”

Yuu took a moment, simply enjoying the taste of strawberries, mangos, and the hinted kick of tart orange juice. With a few clicks, the TV came to life mirroring their laptop, “Yep! Epel the master remote should have a button for the lights.”

Soon, everyone was cozy in the nest, snacks close and each with a chilled beverage.

Vil raised an eyebrow, already judging the movie by the overly cartoony opening, “And this movie is for…children?”

“Ye…I think…it was an 80’s movie. So ‘For Kids’ normally just meant no titties or swear words.”

Epel’s face quickly soured, glaring at Yuu, “Ah swear ta the Seven, if this anything like that Oz movie-”

Yuu giggled, shushing Epel, “Making you guys watch 'Return to Oz*’ was for my own sick pleasure. This won't be like that I promise.”

Rook sighed, “I should hope not. Monsieur Pommette could not sleep for days…”

Waving them off, Yuu kept their eyes glued to the screen as the movie’s opening twist was revealed, “Don't worry. ‘Who Framed Roger Rabbit?’ is the perfect relax day movie.”

The Pomefiore boys all sat huddled around Yuu, eyes wide in terror as they watched the villain stalk closer and closer to the detective.

“When I killed ya brother! I talked! Just! Like! THIIIIIIIIIIIS!”

Vil whispered harshly to Yuu, mildly afraid to take his eyes off the screen, “This movie is for children?”

“Yeah. The 80’s were wild…”

*Lowkey I wanted to put The Wiz instead but I remembered that movie being delightful besides the single scene in the subway. Return to Oz, however, keeps getting purged from my memory every time I watch it for good reason.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuu oc #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #pomefiore

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