#i hope you had a wonderful Valentine's Day

[miabebe]

My Girlfriend Faked Her Amnesia (Wen Junhui)

Reverse Trope Series Installment 4

It wasn’t always that life gave one the chance to hit reset, but now that Jun had gotten it, he didn’t have long before time ran out - 10 days to valentine's day which meant 10 chances to make his amnesiac girlfriend remember him again. But it wasn’t going to be a cakewalk - after all, how could one be reminded of the past if they were only pretending to forget?

Pairing - Wen Junhui x afab! Reader

Word Count- 29k

Genre - Heavy angst, romance, hurt comfort, mild humor and as usual, yes, smut - This piece is lowkey inspired by the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind!

Warnings - Car accident, mentions of blood, memory loss, hospital setting

A/n - Hello my loves! This is my bit for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab hosted by the wonderful @camandemstudios, my first ever collab! Please do also check out the stories by all the other writers - everyone has been working super hard on this! I hope you enjoy this piece and leave your thoughtsss :) To be added to the reverse tropes taglist, please comment under this post :)

Smut warnings - This is only the first half (12k) of the story and there is no smut in it yet. Warnings will be added for the second half!

The End: 27th December 2024 

"Careful!" 

You quickly swerved to the side of the road, the car screeching to a stop as the honking truck zoomed past you.

Fuck. Gripping the steering wheel tight, you let out a sigh of relief, your wandering thoughts returning to the present. That was close. 

The man beside you mumbled something under his breath as he unbuckled his seatbelt before alighting the car and opened your door, wordlessly asking you to get out.

You complied, allowing him to take over your role as the driver and quietly slid in the passenger seat.

Adjusting the mirror he glanced up and down the snow clad road before driving off into the darkness. Again, without saying a word. 

That's how things had been between the two of you for a while now. Silent. 

Some might say that after nearly 10 years of being together, the two of you didn't need words to communicate anymore, you just understood each other so well. But only you knew the reality - there was nothing left to say. Everything was at the edge of falling apart. 

You glanced down at your hands, fingers fidgeting. Yes it was cold but it was the emptiness that bothered you. 

Your boyfriend shot you a look before his hand hovered over the controls of the car. 

"Are you feeling cold?" 

See, he didn't understand. He never seemed to understand. And you were tired of explaining but a tiny voice in your head said to try just once more. 

"My mum was asking why there's no ring yet?" Caressing the fingers of your left hand, you looked up, far off at the skies where the morning sun still hadn't made its way up. 

“And what did you say?” 

You turned to him, not hiding the incredulous expression donning your face, “What am I supposed to say Jun?” He looked straight ahead, eyes more focused on the road than required. “How does one answer a question like this?” 

His Adam's apple bobbed with his gulp. “That....we’re not ready?” 

“And looking at us, who will buy that?” 

Jun kept quiet again, perhaps because he knew you were right.

The two of you had been together for the majority of your lives which meant your families, friends, colleagues all were a consistent witness of your relationship. Even over the last week, when you were spending Christmas with your family at the ski cabin, your sister wouldn’t stop talking about how you two were perfect for one another. She didn’t know that behind closed doors, in the privacy of your room, the two of you slept with your backs facing each other.

Jun sighed, noticing you were getting lost in your thoughts again. “Why do we have to justify ourselves to anyone anyways Y/n? This is our life-” 

“You’re right, there’s no need to justify anything to anyone. But you can tell me why, right?” You half turned towards him, leaning against the car door. “You and I can talk about why we’re nearing our thirties and still haven’t made any decision about getting married?” 

“Jesus, twenty five is not considered thirties Y/n." He rolled his eyes exasperated. "Besides, what does age have to do with marriage? Getting married should be something that we decide because we want to spend our lives with each other.”

You blinked at him. “Then do you not want to spend your life with-”

“I did not say that.” He glanced at you before quickly looking back at the road. “Of course, I do. Baby, you and I live together, we do everything together, we are as good as married-”

“So then a wedding would just be a formality right-”

“No, it would be a show!” You flinched a little as he raised his voice, annoyed. “It would be to show the world something, to prove to others that we are committed and will last through it all, as though signing a few documents is a guarantee of that.”

“Marriage isn’t just about that Jun. Do you have any idea how many things will become easier - buying a house, getting loans, so many logistics-”

He scoffed, shaking his head slowly. “That’s what marriage is to you? A practical, logical, legal binding?” 

Biting your lower lip you let out a deep breath. “If you think it should mean much more or that it should be made purely on emotions then what’s stopping you? Or do you not love me anymore-”

“Why would you say that?” He groaned, like he was tired of this conversation. “I do love you, more than anything. Which is why I want you to be able to focus on yourself without taking the burden of a marriage. I want you to fulfill all the dreams you have for your career, for your professional growth-”

“Jun, I can do all of that while being married too-”

“Marriage changes people! It changes priorities, it changes expectations-”

“So that’s what you’re afraid of? Expectations? Because I expect you to be a bit more responsible? To get your act together-”

“It won’t stop at that will it?” He sighed. “This is all our life is going to be - First it’ll be about dividing household chores, who’ll do dishes, who’ll take out the trash. Next it’ll be about finding the perfect house and having children-” 

“We’ve talked about this and you said you didn’t have a problem with having children Jun.” You snapped at him, triggered at his words. “I’m not getting any younger here-”

“And I’ve not grown up!” He slammed the wheel with his hand. “I do want to have kids someday but not now, not any time soon. I… I can barely look after myself, how am I going to look after a child? And if I’m incapable it will mean that you will have to carry the burden of it all - of raising the child, of me and of yourself and I don’t want that for you.”

You fell silent again, realising that the conversation was going just like it always did.

You would go on to insist that you were ready for whatever was to come and the time was right now, Jun would insist that he isn’t willing to let you take on so much and that marriage shouldn’t be about timing, it should be about wanting to be with each other. You would then claim he’s being too emotionally driven about this and he would claim that you were being too practical and the conversation would just be about the two of you justifying your point of views, reaching no conclusion. 

This is what happened every single time. This was what was going to happen again now. And frankly, you were tired of it. 

“When did we start wanting such different things?” You glanced at the road that disappeared into the darkness. The early morning light was not enough to illuminate the path ahead. “I thought…. we were perfect for each other, that we were meant to be. After nearly ten years, where did it all go wrong?”

You didn’t mean for it to sound hurtful, but Jun had always been the sensitive one.  

“Just because we’re not in the same frame of mind right now, doesn’t mean all the years we shared mean nothing.”

“But what does it mean?” You smiled sadly. “We aren’t growing, we aren’t able to help each other grow, what was the point of it all? Ten years and…. we achieved nothing.” 

It was like you were leaving arrow after arrow to pierce his heart - he knew you were the reasonable kind - always planning, always making lists, always marking milestones. Whatever you were saying now, had to be the result of a moment of frustration, not because you were questioning the love that you had for each other…. right? 

You weren’t regretting this, were you? 

He let out the breath he was holding. “Then maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.” 

Please say I’m wrong Y/n. Please say prove me wrong, please say we’re worth it. 

Although you were never really one to be driven by emotions, Jun always was. The one who never forgot anniversaries, the one who always tried to make every moment special, the one who always reminded you that you were not each other’s habits but each other’s love. Had things gone so far that the man who savoured every moment of being in love with you, thought it was better that you never met? 

“Is that what you really think?” You whispered, ignoring the feeling of something pricking the back of your eyes. 

Jun turned to you surprised. How could you even think that? Of course not-

“Careful!” 

Headlights beamed from right across, but this time, Jun’s quick swerve was not enough. 

As the car skidded wildly, with a sickening crunch it slammed into the side of the oncoming truck, the momentum sending it toppling over, rolling violently onto its roof with a screech of metal. As it came to a stop, the sun rose from above the clouds far away and steam rose from what was remaining of the crumpled vehicle. In the heavy stillness that followed, alongside the eerie whisper of the wind, streams of red mixed with the white of the snow. 

Your boyfriend’s hand extending towards you was the last thing you saw before everything went black. 

The Afterlife: 31st December 2024 

Pain. 

Unbearable pain. 

That's what was searing through his body, over and over again. Everywhere, in every inch…. Just pain. 

Perhaps because he hadn’t stopped running. 

Jun had been running in the forest for what seemed like forever. Where to? He had no idea. Where from? He didn’t know that either. 

All he knew was he was looking for something he had lost. Something clearly precious to him. Something he couldn’t live without. 

Yet ignorantly, he kept running. Until....

Jun.

Your voice echoed around him like a soft whisper. Finally stopping by the lake, he looked around, frantically trying to find you. 

It was then, across the frozen crystal clear waters he saw you - beautiful as ever, the only bright thing in the dark, daunting woods. 

He wanted to go to you, he wanted to be with you but the slippery ice didn’t let him take a step forward. 

Instead, you took a step back. 

Then another one. 

Then another. 

Jun continued to call out your name, trying to stop you from receding into the shadows but in vain. Slowly you disappeared into the darkness, the black of the woods engulfing you as Jun fell to his knees, the ice cracking under him. 

Shutting his eyes, he attempted to stop the pain but it only got worse. It was just pain, pain, pain. 

When he opened them, white flickering lights were strangely swaying above him. 

Blinking, Jun tried to see clearly but just then, the ice finally gave away, submerging him into the cold waters. 

As the icy waters of the lake dragged him down, Jun felt his eyes slowly shut again and your name was the last thing he remembered.

The Awakening: 27th January 2025 

The blur flickering light of the ceiling became clear as the rhythmic beeping of machines slowly pulled him from the depths of unconsciousness.

Head throbbing and body aching, an unsettling sense of disorientation washed over him, like he had been asleep for too long. Slowly raising himself on his elbows, Jun looked around, eyes finding the strange setting of a hospital room, the overwhelming smell of antiseptic finally hitting him. 

Shutting his eyes again, he tried to recollect what happened, how he ended up here……

“Y/n…” 

The argument. 

The crash.

The sight of your eyes fluttering shut as blood trickled down your face. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled, looking at all the tubes and wires attached to him, holding him back. Without an ounce of care, he tugged them off, triggering the loud alarms of the machines but before his feet even touched the cold tile of the floor, the doors flung open and a handful of people donning impeccably white coats spilled in, looking worried.

“Sir, please don’t-”

“Where’s Y/n?”

“You need to calm down, you’re not ok-”

He grabbed the collar of the man before him. “Don’t tell me to calm down. Where is Y/n?”

“We…” The doctor looked terrified. “Who is Y/n?”

Annoyed, Jun tugged on his shirt harder. “The car crash, there was a woman with me in the car, in the passenger seat, where is she?” 

“What woman?” The man stuttered, looking at his team confused. “You were brought to our hospital alone.” 

Shocked, Jun loosened his grip, allowing the doctor to quickly move back, putting himself at an arm’s distance. 

Alone?

“That’s not possible….” He muttered. “She was with me, she should be here…” 

“The accident happened in the countryside so you were taken to the nearest emergency care but your injuries were too severe so they shifted you here, to the city hospital.” The doctor looked at him slightly hesitating. “Maybe there was a woman with you, but she wasn’t brought here. Either her condition wasn’t serious enough or she didn’t….”

Eyes narrowing, Jun looked at the shivering man before him. “She didn’t, what?”

“S-she didn’t make it-”

“How dare you?” He spoke between gritted teeth, charging towards the doctor, only to be quickly held back by the nurses around him. “How dare you even suggest something like that-”

“Mr. Junhui, I was only stating the possibility-”

“What you’re saying is not possible-”

“Sir please, your heart rate is getting erratic-”

“I don’t care, I need to find her-”

“You can’t leave.”

“Stop me if you can.” Jun pulled himself free from the grip of those around him, leaving for the door, glaring at the crowd challengingly. 

Only one of them dared to step forward - a woman, one not wearing a doctor’s coat, looking at him with sympathy rather than fear. 

“Sir please….” She whispered softly, slowly approaching him, ignoring the worried looks of those around her. “I understand your worry and I’m so sorry for this but you need to calm down…. I have no other choice.” 

Jun frowned as she neared, maintaining a strong, unavoidable eye contact, the contents of her hands completely missing his vision. Before he could understand what was happening, there was a prick in his arm, hands reaching out to him and the flickering light blurred again as his eyes shut. 

28th January 2025

“Let me go.” 

The events from about 24 hours ago had repeated again. 

The fluttering lights, the machines, the wires, the tubes, the doctors - everything happened in the same sequence except there was one difference this time. When Jun tried to pull on the wires and swing his legs off the bed, he found all four of his limbs restrained. 

“Please.” He whispered. “I need to find Y/n.”

“Sir, there really was no woman brought along with you.” The woman’s eyes reflected the same sympathy they had since the day he had been wheeled in. “We got your records from the emergency center you were taken to.” 

Pulling out a bunch of papers from a file, she placed it on his lap. “There was a woman with you but she was discharged from there within a week.”

“A-a week?” Jun stuttered, looking around. “How long has it been since the accident?” 

“Almost…” She looked at the papers thoughtfully. “Almost a month. You’ve been unconscious all this while, you sustained a traumatic injury to your-”

“What about Y/n?” 

Stepping up and reading through the papers, the doctor from earlier spoke with his expertise. “She had a severe injury on her head too but she gained consciousness about a week after the accident and she…. just left.” 

“Just left?” It felt as though something cold was just dumped on his head. “Just left me?” 

“Mr. Jun, we’re not sure what exactly happened but….” The woman looked at him uncertainly. “The last few weeks that you were here, no woman has come to visit you. Y/n hasn’t been around.” 

Jun let out a shaky breath, “She probably didn’t know I was here. She… she must be looking for me, she must be so worried. I should go to her-” 

“You’re not well enough to leave.” The doctor spoke from behind the woman, worried even though Jun’s movements were restrained. “I wouldn’t suggest-” 

“I don’t want your suggestion. I want you to open these-” He tugged on the belts. “-so I can go.” 

Everyone exchanged looks, shifting in their places.

“Open them!” 

“Again, I’m sorry Mr. Jun.” The woman approached him slowly, an injection clearly visible in her hand this time. “This is for your good.” 

Once again, everything became blur before it all went dark. 

31st January 2025

“She didn’t pick the call.” The woman without a coat, who’s name Jun learnt was Mira, walked up to him. “Again.” 

Sighing, Jun looked outside the window. The streets were busy - cars were going up and down, people were walking about, some laughing, some stressed. But everything was moving, everyone was moving. Only his life had come to a standstill. 

“Do you remember anyone else’s number?” 

Jun shook his head. “Who even memorises numbers these days? Everything is stored on my phone-”

“-which broke in the accident.” She finished for him. 

“I only remember my girlfriend’s number because she forced me to remember it in case of emergencies like these.” He chuckled softly, walking up to the wall with the pictures of the two of you stuck all over. He ran his fingers over the picture of you hugging him from behind, head resting on his shoulder. “She was always so well prepared, always a step ahead….. except now.”

When Jun woke up 3 days ago, Mira had been there to tell him you were nowhere to be found. She had looked for you at home, which had been abandoned for over a month, at the library where you often worked on your projects, at the stores where you preferred to shop, at the park where you jogged every morning. You were nowhere. 

Your family was nowhere to be seen either - the house was locked and the neighbours claimed they had gone somewhere overseas. There was no trace of you at all - it was like you had vanished into thin air, like you were just a mirage, a dream. 

“I wish I could help Jun.” Mira walked up to him, placing her hand on his shoulder, looking around his apartment. “I’m sorry the only thing I could assist you with is getting you back home. But I had someone clean up the place so it should be more habitable now.” 

“Thank you Mira, for everything.” He muttered, slowly moving her arm away, tearing his eyes away from the photographs. “I’m sorry, I… I think I should….. shower, I smell like the hospital.” 

She nodded as Jun disappeared into the washroom, wordlessly asking her to leave. Grabbing her bag, she shot him one last sad look as she hesitatingly made her way out. 

Standing before the mirror, Jun sighed at his reflection - he had never seen himself look this lifeless. Wincing in pain, he removed his shirt slowly, pulling it over his head - almost healed gashes and wounds were littered all over his torso. 

The memory of an injured you flashed behind his shut eyes.

“Where are you Y/n?” He whispered, trying not to let his voice shake. “Come back to me.” 

Jun glanced at the small coffee shop across the road, one he had never seen before, the hanging sign board slowly swaying in the cold wind - Lonely Hearts Cafe. 

So many things had changed over the last month. He, who was the biggest homebody known to mankind, could not bear to stay in his house for another minute. Not where every inch of it was filled with the essence of you, where everything was a reminder of you. A part of him was relieved that there were pictures and traces of you were everywhere - that meant you were real, not a figment of his imagination…. but that also made your absence hurt more. 

He had spent the last few hours wandering the streets mindlessly, trying not to let everything outside the haven the two of you built together remind him of you too. 

But there you were, in your favourite pizza shop on the corner of the street, munching on a slice. Just as he approached, shocked and frantic, you disappeared, like you were never there. And then he saw you again, at the hairdressers this time, getting just the ends trimmed, like always. And then you were by the butchers, petting that little dog you adored. And then by the lake, glancing at the frozen waters, vanishing as usual when he approached to stand by you. Even though you weren’t really around, his eyes found the memories of you everywhere - it was like he didn’t know a life without you. 

There was no life without you.  

The cafe he was currently staring at was perhaps the only place that Jun knew he wouldn’t see you. It looked new, like a business that had just freshly found itself in this vicinity but something about it was also whimsical and fairytale-like, as though it was someone’s old dream came true. Jun had never been a coffee kinda guy - Chinese tea was usually his go-to beverage so it didn’t make sense why he felt this strange urge to go in. Maybe because he knew he wouldn’t be haunted by your absence there.

At first, he took a step ahead, attempting to go towards it but he was unable to take another - he didn’t want to not see you. Even though it hurt, he’d rather see the memories of you everywhere than familiarise himself with a life without you. 

So shaking his head, he turned away, heading back home, going back to everything that reminded him of you when…… something caught his eye. 

At first, he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him again because there was no way…. 

Inching closer, ignoring the oncoming traffic and the screaming drivers, he crossed the road, standing right before the large glass windows of the shop. Slowly raising his hand, he wiped the condensation off the frosted glass, catching a clear sight of what was inside. 

You. 

There you were, walking about in a little checkered apron, placing cups of coffee on the table as you flashed your bright smile at those who were seated. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jun turned around, fists tightened painfully. You’ll disappear again, just like all those times before, you’ll disappear again, he was just imagining this, projecting his innermost desire. You weren’t really here….right? 

But the sound of your laughter told him he was wrong. Quickly turning back, he caught sight of you again, making your way to the counter, putting cash into a large glass jar on the wooden shelf. 

As though in a trance, Jun walked over to the door and pushed it open, eyes not leaving you as you laughed and scribbled something down on a notepad before walking to the tables with a bounce in your strut he had never seen before. 

Just as your name found itself on the tip of his tongue, you stopped your tracks and turned around, eyes finding him walking in, lips curling with a wide smile. 

“Hi sir, welcome to Lonely Hearts Cafe.” Clutching the notepad to your chest, you beamed at him. “Do you want to take a seat or get a drink to go?” 

“Y/n…” He whispered, barely able to hear himself, taking a small step ahead.

“Oh I almost forgot,” You softly smacked your head. “If you’re interested, we’re having a small valentines special event, for singles. Any two people who get the exact same drink will be paired to sit at the same table. It’s kind of a ‘if your tastes match, maybe you guys will too’ sort of concept?” 

Given he was staring at you with a vacant expression, you blinked at him like you weren’t quite sure if he understood. 

Jun didn’t understand. Why were you behaving like he was a stranger? Like you didn’t know him. 

Maybe…. this wasn’t you.

“So…” Tucking your loose fringes behind your ear, you tried searching his face for an answer. “What would you like?” 

Jun’s eyes flickered to the healing gash on your forehead, the night of the accident, flashing in his mind again. 

It was you. There was no doubt it was you. 

And so without a second thought, Jun took two big strides, pulling you towards him, wrapping his arms around you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Excuse me?! Sir-”

“Where have you been?” He muttered, not realising you were struggling to break free from his grip. “I’ve been looking for you-”

“Get off me!” Using all your strength, you pushed him off you, causing the man to take a few staggering steps back, shocked. 

All heads in the cafe turned towards the two of you, a strange silence descending upon the room before hushed whispers broke out. Flashing a fake smile at everyone, you quickly grabbed Jun by his wrist, leading him out of the cafe, shutting the door behind you. 

“What the hell was that?” You glared at him. “Sir, I don’t know who you think you are, but that was unacceptable.” 

Jun blinked at you confused. “I thought….I thought-” 

“I don’t care what you thought.” You crossed your arms looking stern, all the warmth from earlier having left your being. “If I ever see you in my cafe again, I swear to god I will call the cops.”

“You…” Jun looked at you incredulously. “You’ll call the cops on me?” 

“Most definitely.” 

It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. Why would you call the cops on him? Were you mad at him about something?

Jun’s racked his mind, trying to think of the last conversation the two of you had. The night of the accident. He couldn’t remember all too well, but the image of you glancing at your empty ring finger flashed in his mind. 

“Is this about….getting married?” You frowned as Jun ran his hands through his hair. “If it really means this much to you then, fine, let’s get married. I just wanted it to be-”

“Married?” You looked at him like you couldn’t believe what he was saying. “Why on Earth would I marry you? I don’t even know you-”

“Jun!” 

At the sound of his name, Jun turned around, only to find himself being slammed into the familiar chest of a tall, lanky man. The fragrance of expensive perfume immediately told him who it was - His best friend Minghao. As Jun tried to break free from his friend’s untimely interruption, Minghao held him tight, whispering in his ear. 

“Don’t say a word.” 

“Mr. Xu.” You glanced at the intertwined figures of both men, eyebrows furrowed. “You know this man?” 

“Y/n.” Breaking free, Minghao threw his arm around Jun, flashing a hard smile. “This is Jun, he’s a dear friend. Sorry if he said anything or got out of line - he was just discharged from the hospital after a big accident, he’s a bit disoriented.” 

“Oh.” You looked at him up and down as though it all made sense and you were unable to decide whether to feel sympathetic or stand your ground. “Mr. Jun, I’m sorry you went through all that but whatever you did, that was not appropriate at all.” 

“Y/n what-”

“Yes of course.” Minghao squeezed Jun’s shoulder, shutting him up. “He won’t be troubling you again.” 

“If you really do need a cup of coffee, there are a lot more shops down the street that I’m sure will suit your taste.” You took a step back, reaching for the door again, expression unreadable. “Please don’t come back to me.” 

With that you pushed the door open and disappeared into the cafe allowing Minghao to finally let go of his friend who turned to him, beyond confused. 

“What…. What was that?” He pointed at you, waiting the tables again inside, like nothing happened. Like he didn’t exist. 

“Jun…” Minghao let out a shaky breath, looking carefully at his friend. “Let’s go home, I’ll explain everything.”

“No.” Shaking his head frantically, he reached for the door again. “I’m not going anywhere without Y/n.” 

Moving quickly, Minghao put himself in between, blocking the way. 

“Please.” He held his hand out. “Y/n, she…. she won’t come with you.”

Jun looked at him incredulously. “Why not?” 

“Because she doesn’t remember….” Minghao spoke slowly, watching his friend’s face carefully. “She doesn’t remember you.” 

The throbbing pain was back. 

Actually, it never left. The pain was always there, it was him who had suppressed it under everything else. But with the revelation of things, it became unhinged, freely coursing in his being, hurting everywhere. 

Minghao poured Jun another cup of tea as the two men sat at the dining table, the latter still clutching a photo of you, trying to make sense of all that he was told. 

“She….she doesn’t remember me at all?” He frowned, still confused. “Because of…. you?” 

“Because she doesn’t want to.” Minghao corrected his friend, yet again. “Jun, it was her choice to do the procedure.”

The procedure. 

Minghao had spoken all about it in great detail for the last half an hour. It all went over his head though, Jun didn’t register a single piece of the information thrown at him except one thing - the procedure was to remove memories. 

Yes apparently that was a thing. A new initiative by Minghao’s company - a simple medical procedure in which one could choose to erase their memories of a certain period of time. A process straight out of the sci-fi books - one so ridiculous, Jun would have never believed it if it weren’t coming out of his best friend's mouth. 

That his girlfriend had gotten all her memories of him wiped from her mind. 

“It makes no sense.” Jun shook his head. “Why would she want to forget me? Why would she choose to…”

Minghao looked at his friend staring at your photo sadly. He had always known Jun to be someone full of life - he was ambitious, passionate and always bursting with energy. But now he looked like the whole world had come crashing around him. 

“I’m sorry Jun.” Minghao could feel the guilt eating him on the inside. “All of it happened in my company, right under my nose but I had no idea Y/n had gotten it done till it was all over. Maybe if I had reached the clinic just a little earlier, I could have stopped them from injecting the serum-”

“No Hao, whether you could stop her or not, it won’t change the fact that Y/n wanted to….” Jun swallowed the bile rising in his throat. “She didn’t want to just leave me or walk away from this relationship, she wanted to erase its entire existence from her life. To pretend like it never happened. But why…”

“I wish I knew Jun.” Minghao shook his head softly. “All I know is that this choice mustn't have been easy for her - to forget you she had to have the last 10 years of her life removed. That’s how far she was willing to go to…”

Minghao's words rang in his ears. 

10 years….

Maybe it would have been better if the last ten years didn’t happen at all.

The night of the accident…. that's what he had said. 

Oh god, was that why you….

What had he done? 

“Jun?” Minghao snapped his fingers before his friend's face. “Where are you lost-”

“This was a mistake.” Jun shook his head. “This was all a horrible misunderstanding. I didn’t mean…”

“Mean what?” 

Jun couldn’t even recall why he had said that. It was like his brain was suppressing the stupidity from recurring. 

“I need to talk to her. I need to fix this.”

“How exactly-”

“I’ll marry her, right this instant if that’s what it takes-”

“Jun no-”

“Hao, yes.” He turned to his friend, determined. “I can fix it. I can talk to her and sort this out. Just help me put her memories back again-”

“That’s not-”

“-and I’ll make her see how much I love her-” 

“Jun, that's not possible.” Minghao raised his voice, interrupting his friend’s rant. “Dealing with memories isn’t child’s play. It's one thing to remove them, but to restore them? That’s impossible.”

It felt like everything around was shattering. “You mean she won't ever….”

Minghao shook his head, delivering the final blow. “She won't… ever.” 

Jun stared at the photo in his hand. 

Minghao, who had insisted on staying the night, had hit the shower, his tea sitting cold in its cup. 

Cold draft was blowing in through the open kitchen window. The tips of his fingers were frozen but they were not colder than the thing wrapping around his heart, eating it away.  

Minghao’s last words as he was lingering by the door rang in his ears. 

“Y/n chose to forget you Jun, she chose to restart her life. Maybe it’s best that you do too.” 

Restart his life? Pretend like you didn’t exist and move on? How on Earth was he supposed to do that? 

He glanced at the room around him - at the pictures of you on the walls, at the vase you brought back from your trip to spain, at the coasters you always made sure to use, at the rug you specifically had made to match the couch, at every single thing in his life that was a testament of you. How was he supposed to forget all of it? 

But the truth was, you had forgotten it all. You had walked out of his life, your home and everything the two of you had built together over the last 10 years. None of this around him meant anything to you anymore. 

You had built a new world for yourself, one which Jun had reached, lost in his thoughts. The cafe, the coffee, the customers, the infectious smile on your face, the little bounce in strut, the way your hair fell over your shoulder as you’d turn - you had built something that had no trace of him but more importantly, you looked so happy. Jun couldn’t remember the last time he saw you smile this wide, or even laugh at something stupid. The winter was harsh on the city outside but everything around you seemed so warm. 

Maybe Minghao was right. Maybe it was best that he forgot it all too. 

1st February 2025 

“Where do I put this?” 

Jun turned to Mira who was holding up a bunch of books in her arms. 

“They're all cookbooks, but I'm not sure whether to put it in the box with her law books or in the one with magazines.”

“We can just leave these out.” Taking them from here, Jun walked into the kitchen. “We don't have to put away everything.” 

Sighing Mira followed him. “Jun, boss said everything. Everything that belongs to her, everything that reminds you of her.” 

Jun stared at the books in his hands. Two hours ago, he was sprawled on the couch half asleep, your scarf wrapped around his hand, a frame with your photo in his arms. Much to his annoyance, the consistent ringing of the bell forced him to drag himself to the door and standing on the other side was Mira. 

Jun didn't think he would ever have any reason to see her again but apparently, Mira wasn't just a random hospital staff who helped him - she was in fact Minghao's employee, a psychiatrist who worked in his Memory Wipe project and was asked by him to look after Jun till he came around, as a favour. That day when she left the apartment, she had immediately told Minghao about all that happened - that's how he found his friend declaring he was ready to marry you in front of the coffee shop. Mira though, had no idea about you or that you had your memories wiped - she only found out when Minghao, who left early in the morning for a meeting, sent her over to Jun’s house with a new phone and a contract. A contract to obliterate the last 10 years of his memories. 

“You want me to erase her existence?” Jun furiously muttered into the phone. “How did you even think-” 

“Will you be able to survive with her memories?” Even though he couldn't see his face, Jun knew Minghao was donning a sorry expression. “It'll kill slowly you, Jun. Not being able to be with her, not being able to forget her, not being able to move on. If I had to name something worse than hell, this is it.”

For long after the call ended, Jun stared at the contact papers on the coffee table, his mind disturbed. As much as he didn't want to distance himself from you, could he really live with the fact that you'll never be his again? It had been barely 2 days since he was awake and he was already at the verge of losing his mind. Maybe it was better he too forgot it all. 

But it also pained him to think that if both of you forgot everything, then there was no one who truly knew the kind of pure and unwavering love the two of you shared over the last ten years. At least for the sake of those, he had to stay strong, he had to live with this. But could he really? 

And it was thoughts like this that had him rooted to his chair for over an hour. 

“You don't have to decide now.” Mira interrupted his cycle of thought, tired of watching his unmoving figure. “The procedure is simple. I already have the 10 year formula ready in your name. All you have to do is just come by the centre when you're ready - one injection and it'll be done.” 

As much as Jun was grateful for the time, there was one thing Minghao wanted him to do immediately - clear the apartment of anything and everything that belonged to you. That's what the two of them were in the middle of right now as Mira glanced at the cookbooks in his hands. 

“Jun, whether or not you want to get the Memory Wipe, you need to get rid of all these things. You won't ever move on otherwise-” 

“They're cookbooks.” Jun rolled his eyes, placing them on the shelf of the kitchen. “Has it not occurred to you that I might use these myself?”

Mira stared at him like she didn't believe him but Jun ignored her. There was no way he was going to get rid of every last bit of you. What would be left of him then? 

All your clothes were packed and stashed in the store room, all the pictures of the two of you were taken down, your books, your things, everything was sealed and locked away. Except a few that Jun refused to let go - the lavender cream you used every night, the harmonica you loved to play, the cookbooks you swore would make you a better chef than him. Jun didn't have the heart to walk away from all of it just yet. 

Giving up, Mira began walking away. “I'm going to put her shoes away.” 

“Wait.” Aligning the books hurriedly, Jun quickly ran over to the closet. “Maybe just leave those heels.” 

Mira looked exasperated. “What use could you possibly have of women's footwear?”

Nothing. Jun just loved those black stilettos you wore to work - the sound of them against the wooden flooring was what told him you were home everyday. 

“Jun, this whole thing isn't just about you getting over Y/n. If you plan to do the Memory Wipe, you especially need to do this” Mira stood up sighing. “Imagine losing 10 years of your life and coming home and finding a woman's things all over. You won't remember her, you won't know what happened, you won't have any answers, it'll drive you mad. Please, listen to me, you need to get rid of it all.”

Jun turned away, peeling his eyes from the closet as Mira put the last of your footwear in the boxes, looking at him sadly. 

“How did Minghao even design this procedure?” Jun glanced at the contact papers fluttering on the table. “I knew he was indulging in some biomedical R&D, I had no idea it was this intense.” 

Mira chuckled. “Biomedical R&D barely covers the scope of what he does. Let's just say the Xu enterprises dabble in a lot of things and the Memory Wipe is their latest project. Actually its just undergoing it's last clinical trial - it’s not even advertised or available for the public.” 

“How did Y/n get to know about it then?” Jun frowned like it didn't make sense. “Minghao never talks business with me and I'm sure he's never mentioned it to her either. Then…”

“There were a bunch of lawyers involved in the legal aspects of the clinical trials.” Mira confessed, shrugging. “Maybe she heard from someone in the fraternity.” 

“Funny.” Jun smiled sadly. “Y/n has never been one for office gossip. She just liked to get her work done and head straight back home. It was always about efficiency and not wasting time.”

Mira smiled. “That's an admirable work ethic.” 

“Right? I wish I had that.” Jun glanced out of the window at the snow tumbling out of the sky. “Maybe she wouldn't have had to work so hard if I did.”

“What do you mean?” 

Jun glanced at Mira who had joined him, before continuing to stare out. 

“Y/n always believed in working hard. For her, a job was simply a means to make money. She didn't associate it with dreams or passion, it was just… survival? Me on the other hand, ever since I was a child, all I wanted to do was be an actor. I spent the last, god knows how many years, chasing that dream, picturing myself before the cameras, walking down red carpets. If I look back at my life, all I see are auditions and rejections and more rejections.” 

“It's not wrong to want to live your dream.” 

“No it's not but I don't know how right it is to live with your head in the clouds. Y/n always had her feet on the ground - that was the only reason we survived through it all.” 

“So your story is the ‘opposites attract’ kind?” 

“I guess.” Jun laughed softly. “We were polar opposites actually. She hates talking, I'm always chatting away. She's a mess, I'm neat. She hates doing household chores, I love doing them. Even in food, she loves sweet things, I like them spicy. Our preferences in anything, be it music or movies or where to go or what to wear, they were always so different but I guess….that's what made things fun. Sometimes she'd adjust for me, sometimes me for her, and though things weren't going our way, we were happy because we were making each other happy.” 

“Wow.” Mira let out a breath. “I always thought being in love with someone entirely from me would be difficult to handle.”

“If I'm being honest, there were times it did get difficult.” Jun wiped the condensation off the window with his hand, catching sight of your cafe across the street. “Y/n lived life like it was a checklist. Graduating high school at 18, then law school at 23, first job at 24, marriage at 25, three kids by the time she's 30, retired by 55, starting an organic farm business at 57 and then dying whenever - she had her whole life planned. Me on the other hand, I… live in the moment, go where life takes me. Everything around us is so uncertain, think about the accident”

Jun’s voice shook as fragments of it flashed in his head.

“We could have died, life as we know could have ended, so what's the point in deciding everything so prematurely? I take life by the day, I enjoy every moment - one day I'm doing martial arts classes for kids, one day I'm teaching old women some Chinese dishes, one day I'm doing a modelling contract. End of the day, I still make money to feed myself and pay my bills, I just don't go to bed having the next 10 years of my life planned and somehow….. I think that's what drove us apart. That's why she…” Jun let out a deep breath. “That's why she decided to start afresh. Her practicality and my emotional disposition just… didn't find any middle ground.” 

Mira softly placed her hand on Jun's shoulder, caressing it with her thumb. Clearing his throat, he took a step back, tearing his eyes away from the coffee house. 

“We should probably continue with the packing.” 

Mira nodded as she followed him, the two of them sorting things silently this time. Normally Jun wouldn't ever let go of a chance to talk about you, but now, given he had to speak about you in past tense, Jun couldn't bring himself to talk about you over and over again. Minghao was right, it was all just getting harder and harder.

And so, the next few hours were navigated in mostly silence and occasional questions. By the time the sun had begun to set, the two of them were done - all of your things had been neatly packed and put in the store room, the door locked, keys stashed in Mira's pocket for safe keeping. A couple of things had been piled by the door to be thrown out, Jun's take out dinner had arrived and Mira was lingering by the door, ready to leave. Yet the contract papers were sitting on the table, like an elephant in the room. Unable to hold herself back anymore, Mira sighed. 

“Jun, I know Minghao left the choice to you but as a professional and as someone who cares about you, I think it's best you…. " She gulped. "sign the contract. I've seen some couples after the clinical trials, trust me, you don't want to live this weight-” 

“Mira,” Jun’s voice left him between gritted teeth. “It's been barely 2 days since I got to know about what Y/n did. I haven't even decided if I am to be sad or angry or stay or move on.” He shut his eyes, running his hands through his hair. “The only reason I agreed to keep her things away or allowed someone else to even touch them was because one, I trust Minghao more than anything and two, if I really want to, I know I'm strong enough to break the door of that storeroom and get everything back. But what you're asking of me, is a permanent change. Please just…. Let me think things through at my pace.” 

Mira blinked at him, her hand on the handle of the door, unmoving. 

“Thank you for your help yet again Mira, but I think it's time you go.” 

And before the apology even left her mouth as she stepped out, Jun shut the door behind her, leaning against it.  

He just needed some time. That’s all.

Or at least that's what he thought but in just a few hours, he realised he didn't. 

Yesterday was perhaps bearable because Minghao, although he didn't speak much, was there in the house. Today though, heating up his food all alone, sitting at the table by himself, walking around his house in the dimness of the night lights, staring at the empty walls and empty shelves - it was all too much. Jun couldn't bring himself to go another day like this, forget the rest of his life. 

Taking a deep breath he sat on the couch, pulling the papers towards himself, then pen in his hand shaking. 

He wasn't strong enough for this - he couldn't go on without you. 

Finally making up his mind, he gripped the pen tight and signed the contract. There was no other way. 

But the universe said otherwise. 

If Jun had just turned around and gone to his room, things would've gone down very differently. Maybe if he decided to sleep instead of clearing the dishes and throwing the trash, he would've never thought about clearing all the boxes that Mira left by the door. Maybe then he wouldn't have come across that box. 

At first glance when he opened it, it seemed like odd bits of trash - there were pieces of paper, little trinkets, bills and what not. He was just about to throw it when his eye caught the familiar logo on one of the bills - the Lovers Cavern. The first Michelin star restaurant that Jun had taken you to on a date. Frowning, he ran his fingers through the contents of the box, recognising them one by one. Carnival and movie tickets, the crinkled wrapper of the ice cream he loves, the magnets from your first road trip together, the dried corsage from your first dance together…. everything was a thoughtful piece of the time the two of you spent together. 

You had been carefully saving them over the last 10 years. 

Jun stared at it wordlessly, lost in thought. He had never taken you as one for sentimentality. Hell you didn't even like taking photos or recording videos of your time together, he was always the one who had to pull you in, forcing you to smile. He had always assumed those small moments meant nothing to you but this box told him a different story - you had been treasuring them all these years in your own way. This relationship wasn’t just part of a checklist, you had been emotionally invested in it since the beginning, since 10 years. 

Jun could only imagine how much his words must have hurt you that day…. Clearly enough to make you take such a big step. You didn't walk away because you wanted to. You walked away because of him. His words made you…. it was his fault. 

Walking over to the window, Jun glanced at your cafe, watching as you stepped out with a couple of bags in your hands, turning off the lights and locking the door. As you balanced your things in your hands, waving for a cab, Jun slowly realised….. Minghao was wrong. 

His only options weren't to either live with your memories alone or forget you and move on. There was a third one. One that Jun was about to choose. 

He was going to get you back. He had done it once and he could do it again. 

Jun was going to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

2nd February 2025 

Rubbing the back of your sore neck, you sat down at the benches outside the cafe, enjoying the cold. 

One might think you were stupid for sitting in the snow clad street in just a small dress and an apron but the heat of the coffee was getting unbearable. Sipping on your own coffee, you glanced at the hustle and bustle down the street. Everyone looked so busy, like they were navigating life with a purpose. This coffee shop had always been your purpose, the dream you had been living for almost a month now yet something felt unfulfilled. Something was missing. Before you could figure out what, a voice broke you out of your reverie. 

“Is the same drink, same table offer still going on?” 

Raising your head, you let your eyes find the man who interrupted the few minutes of your me-time.

“Mr. Wen Junhui.” You cleared your throat, letting the annoyance show on your face. “I believe I had asked you not to enter my shop?”

“You did.” Jun nodded, sitting down beside you, a few feet away. “And I did not enter your shop - technically I'm outside.” 

You glared at him, eyes narrowed. 

“Well since you're such an ardent follower of what I say, you shouldn't be sitting with me either because-”

“Because I need to have the same drink as you, right?” Jun cocked his head at you, raising his cup. “And I do.” 

“There's no way.” You chuckled, taking a sip. “I can assure you, you don't.” 

“Correct me if I'm wrong,” Jun took a sip, smiling to himself because he knew he was not wrong. No one knew you better than him. “But I think that's a caramel macchiato with hazelnut cream.”

Lips slightly parted in surprise, you stared at him. 

“M-maybe.” You muttered, taking a sip yourself. “But I still don’t think it’s the exact same-”

“Yeah, it might not be exact.” Jun shrugged nonchalantly. “Not like I’m lactose intolerant or anything but I felt like taking it with oat milk today.” 

The cup nearly slipped from your hand. You were lactose intolerant. You always took your coffee with oat milk. 

Choosing not to tell him that, you simply continued to stare at the busy crowd. Jun let out an inward sigh of relief knowing he had earned the place to sit next to you. 

“Y/n…” Clearing his throat, he corrected himself. Baby steps Jun. “Ms. Y/n I uh actually wanted to apologise about that day.”

You turned to him, eyebrows slightly furrowed. 

“I had actually just gotten out of the hospital that day and I don’t think the anesthesia wore off completely so I was apparently just going around and…. proposing marriage to various women.” 

You raised your eyebrows like you didn’t believe him. 

“It’s true, I spent the whole day today saying sorry to every business owner on this street…. And drinking the same coffee order as them. I think I’m going to have a tough time in the bathroom tomorrow….” 

Scoffing, you turned away from him and if Jun didn’t know you better, he wouldn’t have known you were hiding a tiny smile. 

“Again I’m really Ms. Y/n, I wish that didn’t happen and that we could have a fresh start. I was really looking forward to having coffee here.” 

Letting out a deep resigned breath, you stood up, chugging the last of your drink. Tossing the cup in the bin, you turned to him, clasping your hands before you politely, giving him a small smile. 

“Mr. Wen Junhui, welcome to Lonely Hearts cafe. We’re a small business that opened just a month ago so we’ve got some really good deals on coffee and cake. We even have a Valentine’s day event - you get to share a table with the person who has the same drink as you. I hope we see you around.” 

Returning your smile, Jun got up, giving a small shrug. “That Valentine’s day event is interesting - I would love to… be seen around.” He chuckled, holding his hand out. “It’s nice knowing you Ms. Y/n.” 

Glancing at his outstretched hand, you slowly took it, wrapping your fingers around it. Somehow on the cold winter day, there was a strange warmth radiating between the two of you. 

“It’s nice getting to know you too Mr. Jun.” 

3rd February 2025 

“You know, you don’t look like someone who enjoys coffee.” 

Jun turned at the sound of your voice, finding you right beside the door he just walked in. You had a tray in your hands and an amused smile on your face. 

“What makes you say that?” 

“The face you made yesterday?” You laughed as you walked in, Jun following behind you. “I’ve never seen someone look so disgusted while drinking coffee.” 

Jun suppressed a smile as he leaned against the counter. “Oh so you were watching me.” 

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards the machines. “I happened to see.” 

“The one yesterday was just too sweet.” He shuddered, recalling the taste. “My taste buds were dying.” 

“Well obviously it was sweet, it’s caramel.” You pulled out a piece of cake, putting it on the counter as a waitress walked over, taking it. “Did you expect it to taste like Malatang?” 

Oh Jun would love some Malatang right now. 

“No, but something told me your coffee would taste much better than that one.” 

You chuckled, pulling up a cup. “Is that going to be your order for today?’ 

“Nope.” Jun shook his head. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” 

“What I’m having?” You frowned, confused. 

“How else will I be able to share a table with you?” 

Jun could tell you were holding back a smile. “And why would you want to do that?” 

“I thought coffee with a side of conversation would be nice.” 

“I’m working.” 

“I’ll wait.”

“I only get off at 5.” 

“I’ll wait.” 

“And then I need to head straight home.” 

“I just need 10 minutes.” 

You raised your eyebrows like you were trying to figure out what his intentions were. Meanwhile, he looked at you determined, like he’ll wait for a lifetime, if that’s what it took. Sighing you pulled out a piece of cake and set it before him. Then changing your mind, you quickly swapped it for a couple of lemon biscuits and slid it to him. 

“They’re on the house.” 

And with that you tightened your apron and walked away, leaving Jun staring at his favourite biscuits on the counter. 

“Do you need any help?” 

You looked up from the table you were cleaning at Jun who was still here, his coat discarded, cheeks flushed red and eyes tired. 

“I have staff Mr. Jun.”

“She left.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Told me to inform you.” 

“Huh.” You frowned. “She always stays till I close for the extra ten I hand her every day.” 

Jun remained silent, looking away.

“You paid her.” 

“I was just helping her go home fast.”

Sighing, you straightened yourself, crossing your arms. “Okay what is it, what do you want?” 

“I told you, a conversation.”

“Well that’s what we’re having right?” 

“Right…” Jun cleared his throat, unsure how to frame his sentences while you continued to look at him expectantly. When he didn’t say anything, you rolled your eyes and continued cleaning up. 

“I was thinking…” You held out the tray, making him quickly free his hands to hold it as you began stacking plates and cutlery on it. “You’re a woman.”

“Are you doubting it?” Frowning, you walked over to the trash can, Jun right behind, struggling to balance everything. 

“No! I mean I wasn’t thinking if you were a woman, more like I was thinking since you’re a woman and I’m a man….” 

Jun trailed off completely lost about where he was going with this till you relieved him of the weight in his arms, placing the tray in the sink. 

“Mr. Jun,” You untied your apron, tucking it on the rod of the drawer. “You only have 10 minutes.” 

“Okay okay.” Jun recomposed himself, watching you pack up your things for the night.  Looks like he just had to get straight to the point. “Yes I have 10 minutes right now, but my worry is, we only have 10 days.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It's Valentine's in 10 days….” Jun muttered below his breath trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Are you…” You narrowed your eyes at him unsure. “Is this your way of asking me out?” 

“No god,” Jun groaned, running his hands through his hair. “I swear I planned it so much better in my head-”

“Don’t.” 

And with that one word, you crushed everything. All the hope, the longing, the yearning.  

“Look Mr. Jun, normally I wouldn't go into the details but I don't want you to think I'm blowing you off but about a month ago, I got a Memory Wipe. I lost the last ten years of my life and I’m still trying to come to terms with how much things have changed.... I’m just not ready for any kind of commitment.”

“But….” Jun blinked at you confused. “You smiled…”

“Sorry?” 

“Yesterday and today…. I thought, you might also…” 

“Mr. Jun.” You sighed, donning your jacket, zipping up. “You’re a good looking man, you’re sweet and I can tell you’d be a good conversation but I didn’t mean for it to be more than that. I just assumed it would be some harmless flirting.” 

“I don’t want it to just be harmless flirting.” Jun shook his head. “I want something more. I like you and I want to-” 

“Like me, why?” You looked at him confused, grabbing your bags. “We’ve barely spoken more than 5 sentences to each other.”

We’ve been in love for more than 10 years Y/n. 

“I can’t explain it, it just…. feels right.” 

“Well I can’t function based on your whims and feelings, can I?” 

Jun stood frozen as you turned off the lights and opened the door, stepping out. Grabbing his jacket he followed you, watching you lost in thought as you locked the door before you turned to him. 

“Look, you seem like a nice guy and I’m sure you’ll find someone. It just can’t be me, I’m not in the space for it.” Adjusting the bags in your hands, you shot him an apologetic look.  “I’m sorry Mr. Jun.”

And with that you walked away, your figure moving further and getting smaller as cold winds returned to the city. For some stupid reason, Jun hadn’t anticipated this - he didn’t think about the possibility of you rejecting his advances. He just assumed the two of you would fall into the comfortable pattern of dating each other and everything would slowly return to normal. Your disappearing self was telling him otherwise….

No. 

Jun couldn’t allow this to happen. He couldn’t lose this chance.

“Wait!” Pulling his jacket over his shivering body, he ran to you, half tripping on the way. “Wait, please.” 

And you did, looking at his panting, coughing self standing in your way, trying to catch his breath. Searching your bags, you handed him a bottle of water but Jun ignored it, looking at you questioningly. 

“If whatever happened to you a month ago, didn’t happen, would you agree to go out on a date with a guy like me?” 

“I….” You looked around confused. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you have any other reason not to give us… to give me a shot?” Crossing his fingers, Jun tucked his hands in his pocket. “Any other reason to say no?” 

“Not really, no.” 

Bingo. 

“I’m sure the aftermath of the Memory Wipe hasn't been easy but life won’t stop just because you want things to pause.” Gulping he looked at you expectantly. “Look Y/n I too am in a space where things are difficult where I want to hit rewind, but I realised maybe it’s better to hit restart and I want to try that with you.” 

“Jun I…” 

“Here’s my suggestion, just hear me out.” He clasped his hands, ignoring the cold drafts. “Give me 10 days, just 10 days to change your mind about us. I know I can do it, I know I can make you see I’m worth it, that we’re worth it.” 

“You’re really not going to take no for an answer are you?” 

Jun shook his head, his face falling. “No I…. I don’t want to force you. I was just suggesting-”

“What if I’m not convinced in 10 days?” You sighed, looking at him unsure. “Will you leave the idea of ‘us’ behind and not pursue me anymore?" 

“It won’t come to that-” 

“If it does.” 

“If it does,” Jun took a deep breath. “Then you’ll never see me again. I promise.” 

And with that you went silent, like you were considering it. Jun prayed to all possible forces in the universe - please say yes, please say yes, please say yes. 

“Okay.” You agreed, slowly nodding your head. “You have 10 days. If I’m not convinced, then on the 10th day,  we’re done and we’re never seeing each other again, deal?” 

Smiling on the inside, Jun ignored the little victory lap his head was doing. “Deal.” 

“And you’re sure this will work?” 

Phone against his ear, Jun nodded confidently.

“Positive.”

“What if you’re just setting yourself up for heartbreak again?”

“I’m not.” Jun rolled his eyes. “I know I can get her back. This time I’ll be better-” 

“Haven’t you noticed?” Minghao voice was filled with caution. “She’s somehow not the same. The Y/n you knew was a hard core, cut throat lawyer. This Y/n is a barista who sells coffee and the idea of love.” 

Jun hummed in thought. “Maybe. But deep down, she’s still my Y/n and I’m her Jun. I know her better than anyone else, I can do this-”

“And if you can’t?” 

“Then I’ll live with it. But I can’t let her go without trying.” 

“And what if it still doesn’t work?” 

“I don’t want to consider that possibility.” 

“Jun be realistic. How on Earth do you plan on convincing a woman who thinks you’re a complete stranger, is struggling with her amnesia, and more importantly doesn’t want any commitment, to date you?” 

Jun sank into his couch, staring at the ceiling.  

“I have no idea.” He confessed.

“Exactly, what if things get worse for you-”

“Can you just for once be a tad bit more positive?” Jun sighed. “Look at the bright side of things. Like for example, Y/n knew I didn’t like coffee-”

“-you make the most disgusting face known to mankind when you drink it, anyone would know-”

“-and she knew I like malatang-”

“-you’re Chinese Jun. I think that was a safe guess-”

“-and she knew lemon biscuits were my favourite dessert.” 

This time Minghao went silent. 

“Nothing snarky to say?” 

When Minghao continued to keep quiet, Jun frowned, sitting up. 

“Hao do you think she… remembered?” 

“That’s not possible....” 

"You don't sound as sure as last time." Jun noted.

Minghao let out a deep breath, like he was frustrated. “Theoretically, a memory restoration is not possible but hearing you I.... I can't tell for sure - we're also still not done with the clinical trials so I cannot exactly negate the possibility."

"So,,," Jun's eyes widened. "You're saying there is a chance she might remember everything?"

"A really really small chance.....” Minghao emphasised. "Or it could just be that since Y/n has known you for ten odd years, some her actions are just reflexive - ingrained in her subconscious after years of habit." 

"But you're saying there's a small chance she might remember me again?"

Minghao sighed. Clearly, his friend wanted to just hear one thing.

"Yes. Perhaps if she's repeatedly exposed to you or to something of her past, she might remember certain things again-"

"Enough to make her want to come back to me?"

"I cannot promise that-"

"But I can try." Jun whispered, the cogwheels in his mind turning. "I have to try and Hao, I think I know exactly how."

"How-"

Cutting the call Jun tossed his phone aside and quickly grabbed the box he had stashed below the tea table, opening it. He ran his fingers again through all the memories you had saved, a small smile forming on his face.

Jun had 10 days to win you back - that meant he had 10 chances to remind you of all the good days the two of you shared. 10 memories he could recreate, ones that you yourself had stored in this very box. 10 ways he could prove 'us'..... was truly worth it.

And just like that, Wen Junhui knew exactly how to make you fall in love with him all over again. 

You stared at the photo hanging on your wall, arms crossed, eyes slightly damp.

You look so happy,....he looks so happy. 

Just like he did when you agreed to give him 10 days to woo you. 

Sighing you tore your eyes away and stared at the ground, blinking the tears away. 

“Just 10 days," You whispered, voice shaking. "….. and all of this will be over.” 

A/n - This fic is tbh very long and overwhelming so I thought its best to have it out in parts? I hope you enjoyed this part and stay tuned for the next too! Thoughts in comments and reblogs are very much appreciated my loves <3

[witchywithwhiskey]

Hi molly! For the conversation hearts (thank you so much for doing this 🥺🥰):

Jake Jensen + Kiss Me

off-limits

pairing: bodyguard!jake jensen x female reader

summary: you're spending your valentine's day at home alone with your bodyguard, who you have a major crush on. when you start to wonder if he might like you as well, you use some conversation hearts to find out his true feelings.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, dry humping/dry sex, breast play, nipple sucking, biting, cumming while fully clothed, orgasm control/permission, light bdsm, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (princess, dream girl), aftercare, non-graphic allusions to more sex

word count: 4.4k

a/n: thank you for sending in a prompt, Essie!! i always enjoy writing for Jake—he's just such a fun character to play around with, and he's a perfect fit for the "idiots in love" trope, which is one of my favorites. plus, he's always so sweet, which lends itself perfectly to some sweet and smutty valentine's shenanigans 🤭 thank you for playing my sweethearts game, i hope you enjoy ♡♡

sweethearts game masterlist

Jake Jensen was off-limits. He was so far off-limits. He was your bodyguard, for fuck’s sake. But that didn’t seem to matter to your pitiful heart. You were hopelessly crushing on the big, broad-shouldered mercenary with the goatee and glasses, and the charmingly crooked smile that made butterflies take flight in your belly every time he flashed it in your direction.

And no matter how much time you spent with Jake Jensen, no matter how much you whined and wheedled to get to know him, until he was keeping you updated about his sister’s terrible boss and his niece’s soccer team’s excellent record, your crush just wouldn’t go away. 

You were infatuated with the exact shade of sapphire of Jake’s eyes, and the nervous laugh that fell from his lips when he was flustered. You were downright smitten with the way he’d talk to your stuffed animals when he thought you weren’t looking—and the way he’d give them all funny little voices when he knew you were watching him do a sweep of your room. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from imagining Jake in your bed, his strong arms wrapped around you and his face buried in your neck while you woke up. You’d have bet anything that Jake was the best at cuddling, and you could so easily picture the way you’d wiggle your ass in his lap, enticing him into some slow morning sex…

You shook your head, clearing that wildly inappropriate thought from your mind and tried to focus back on your TV. A romantic comedy was playing on the screen, the lights in your living room dimmed low, and there was a whole spread of festive snacks and candies on the coffee table. None of which had been touched.

Admittedly, you may have gone a little overboard for a Valentine’s Day spent home alone with your bodyguard, watching movies while candles flickered romantically around the room. But, in your defense, Jake hadn’t been meant to work Valentine’s Day. It had been Roque’s turn in the rotation, but the gruff man had come down with something at the last minute. 

You knew Clay had called all the others before he’d called Jake, but Pooch and Cougar were busy, and since he didn’t want to play babysitter himself on Valentine’s Day—no matter how many favors he owed your father—he’d finally called Jake. Jake, of course, had no other plans and had happily agreed to take the shift watching you.

He’d turned up so quickly at your doorstep, relieving Clay to go get ready for his date, that you couldn’t help but wonder if Jake had broken some speeding laws getting to your apartment. He’d been wearing his usual puppy-dog grin and gave you a box of conversation hearts before wishing you a happy Valentine’s Day while Clay rolled his eyes. 

The head of your security team had fixed Jake with a pointed look before leaving the two of you alone. Even though no words had been exchanged, even you could tell Clay had given Jake some type of warning, though you couldn’t imagine what it could’ve been about. Jake was always polite and respectful when he was with you. 

It was you who had all the inappropriate thoughts about your bodyguard.

On the TV, the romcom leads were bickering about something. It was still early on in their love story and they were still convinced they hated each other. However, it was painfully obvious to anyone watching that they both had feelings for the other. 

You’d seen the movie plenty of times, so you risked a glance at Jake, who was lounging comfortably on the other end of your couch. You caught his blue eyes darting away from your face and had the distinct impression he’d been looking at you, though you decided that couldn’t be true. 

Surely you would’ve noticed if your bodyguard had been staring at you. Wouldn’t you?

The question gave you pause. You’d grown so used to being watched, whether it was by the mercenaries your father had hired as your bodyguards or by any of the strangers who stared at you and your entourage with curiosity when you went outside. You supposed you’d long since stifled whatever sense people got when they were being watched.

As you ruminated on the idea, you were staring at Jake, which you didn’t notice until he leaned forward suddenly and grabbed a handful of popcorn from a bowl on the table. He shoved the whole lot into his mouth and cut a glance in your direction, coughing when he realized you were still watching him. He gave a laugh, the one he always let out when he was flustered, and it hit you like a lightning strike.

Jake Jensen liked you. 

Your eyes watched him closely, taking in the slight pink tinge of his cheeks and the way his bright blue eyes kept cutting over you to like he was uncertain. His fingers pushed up his glasses and he coughed into his fist. 

He was nervous. Of that, you were sure. But given who your father was, it wasn’t out of the norm for people to be nervous around you. You had to know if Jake was nervous because of your father, or because he liked you.

Turning back to the spread of food on the coffee table, you spotted the box of conversation hearts and a plan began to form in your mind.

As casually as you could manage, you grabbed the box and ripped it open, your eyes fixed unseeingly on the TV as you tried to pretend to be watching the movie. For a few minutes, you sat in silence, making it seem like you were engrossed in the movie, though you were much more interested in watching Jake out of the corner of your eye. 

He kept looking over at you. Long, lingering looks that didn’t seem to have anything to do with making sure you were safe. You couldn’t believe you’d never noticed it before—you must’ve been too wrapped up in your own thoughts about your bodyguard to see it.

Your heart raced in your chest with the possibility that you were right, that Jake Jensen might like you just as much as you liked him. But you knew you had to be careful. You didn’t want to spook your bodyguard—not if you wanted him to be so much more than that.

“Do you want one?” you asked, forcing your voice to remain casual as you turned to Jake and held up the box of conversation hearts. You shook it for good measure. 

Jake’s eyes darted between your face and the box, like he could sense a trap. But when you refused to give anything away with your expression, he sighed and reached a hand out. 

“Sure, princess, I’ll take one.”

A small smile played around the corners of your lips and you peered into the box, rooting around until you found one that had a message you wanted to convey to Jake. Finally, you found a pink one that said Kiss me, and your heart lurched excitedly in your chest.

You grabbed the candy and dropped it into Jake’s palm, a shiver racing down your spine when your fingertips brushed against his warm, calloused skin. Little tingles of awareness darted through your body and you had to bite back a gasp as you drew your hand back, watching intently as Jake brought his hand to his mouth. 

But he wasn’t even looking at what the heart said! How was your plan supposed to work if he didn’t even read what it said? 

A little distressed sound fell from your lips and you cried, “Jake!” 

The big bodyguard froze instantly, his head whipping around and blue eyes darting sharply toward the door like he was expecting a team of mercenaries to barge into your apartment and threaten your life. When he couldn’t find any danger, Jake turned his gaze on you, his blue eyes bright with panic behind the frames of his glasses.

“You can’t eat a conversation heart without reading it first,” you said, infusing your voice with an innocent playfulness while you rolled your eyes at him, as if it was a hard and fast rule of eating the Valentine’s candy and he was breaking it. 

The side of Jake’s mouth pulled up in a crooked smile—sending butterflies fluttering and swooping in your belly—and he glanced down, taking care to turn over the little heart in his palm to read what it said. You could tell when he had because he went still again, a light pink blush tinging his cheeks.

“Princess,” he grumbled, keeping his head ducked while his finger traced the candy in his hand. 

“Y’know, I heard it’s bad luck to ignore the words on a candy heart given to you by someone you care about,” you said in what you hoped was an innocent tone. You turned your head back toward the TV, but kept your eyes on your bodyguard, wondering what he was going to say or do to that.

“Princess.”

That time, your pet name was a groan from Jake’s lips as he tipped his head back and closed his fist around the candy. Despite the torture in his tone, your body lit up, responding to the gruff way he said the pet name. Your mind instantly wandered to other ways you could make him groan it like that. Maybe with your mouth pressed to his bulge…

Jake was staring at you, his blue eyes blazing with heat and hunger and so much restraint, it cracked something open inside you. It wasn’t like you to allow yourself to be vulnerable around anyone, but there was something about the way Jake was looking at you that made you think you could take a chance with him.

“Please, Jake,” you murmured, your voice quiet and pitiful as you begged him openly. “It’s just a kiss—and I haven’t been kissed in so long.”

Jake groaned again, and your body was lighting up all over again, tingles dancing along your nerves and butterflies soaring in your belly. But your bodyguard distracted you from your body’s reaction by grabbing your hips and dragging you across the couch until you were right next to him. 

Your bare thigh was flush against his, your skin pressed to the rough jeans he was wearing. You almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of your leg pressed against Jake’s, but he made a sound and you looked up at him.

Jake loomed over you, his blue gaze darkening as they flicked between your eyes and your mouth, like he was considering giving you exactly what you’d asked for. That realization made your breath catch in your throat and you leaned into his side, basking in his warmth and letting the spicy scent of his cologne fill your senses. 

“Just this once,” Jake said sternly, his gaze roving over your face like he was trying to memorize every bit of it and commit it to his mind. “Clay’s going to fucking kill me,” he muttered, but you didn’t have a chance to wonder over what he meant by that.

Because, in the next moment, Jake was ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. 

Fireworks exploded behind your eyes, a sizzling, sparkling feeling of delight filling your body from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head. It was better than you ever imagined, and you couldn’t get enough, chasing after Jake’s mouth when he tried to pull away, sucking on his lower lip and feeling the tickle of his goatee when he kissed you again, harder.

Your fingers twisted in the soft cotton of Jake’s t-shirt, pulling him closer while you stretched and arched into him. Beneath your fingertips, you could feel his heart racing in his chest, matching the quick rhythm of your own, and you smiled against his lips.

All too soon, Jake was pulling away, his hands cupping your face and easing you back when you tried to kiss him again. 

A disgruntled noise fell from your lips and you followed Jake as he retreated, sitting up and swinging a leg over his thighs. Before you even knew what you were doing, you were sitting in Jake’s lap, both of you blinking at each other like neither of you knew how you’d gotten there.

Jake’s hands idly kneaded your hips through the lounge shorts you’d worn to look cute and casual on your Valentine’s Day in, and your eyelashes fluttered at the feeling of his firm grip on your body. It was enough to have heat pooling between your thighs, wetness gathering and dripping into your panties, but you forced yourself to focus. 

You grabbed the candy heart that read Kiss me from the couch cushion where it had fallen when Jake had kissed you and you pressed it against his full lower lip. Wordlessly, Jake opened for you, and you placed the candy on his tongue, watching greedily as he closed his mouth around it.

The two of you hung in a suspended moment, your eyes fixed on Jake’s perfect mouth and deciding whether you wanted to try to lick the candy from his tongue. Jake’s hands squeezed your hips hard, and you glanced up into his eyes, finding his pupils blown so wide, they nearly blotted out the bright blue of his irises. 

“Princess,” he rumbled, his voice full of warning. Inexplicably, though, his tone only made you squirm in his lap, biting back a gasp when your core grazed against something hot and hard in Jake’s jeans.

“Jakey,” you whined softly, looping your arms around his broad shoulders and pressing your soft tits against his hard chest through your oversized sweater. You pouted up at your bodyguard from under your lashes, giving him what you hoped was both an innocent and enticing look. 

Jake cupped your cheek and he grinned crookedly, ducking down to press a kiss to your lips. 

“You’re gonna get me fired,” he murmured teasingly when he pulled away, but you tugged him back, kissing him more firmly.

“I’d never let Clay fire you,” you said fiercely, drawing back enough to stare into Jake’s eyes. His glasses were a little askew and you fixed them carefully, smiling softly at him. 

Jake huffed a laugh and grabbed the box of conversation hearts from the other side of the couch. You sat back, curious about what he was doing, but also a little excited that he was clearly continuing your idea of communicating through candy. 

He cupped his hands, preventing you from seeing what candy heart he was picking out until he found the one he wanted. Then he grabbed your hand and held it palm up, dropping one of the conversation hearts into your palm, which you eagerly pulled closer so you could read it.

Dream Girl.

“Jake,” you breathed on a delighted sigh. Looking up, you caught him smiling that crooked grin at you, the butterflies in your belly rioting with happiness as you smiled back at him. “Am I really your dream girl?” you asked a little shyly, ducking your head and looking up at him.

“Yeah, you are,” he said softly, snagging the candy from your hand and pressing it to your lips. He watched you take it on your tongue and close your lips around it. 

Jake gave you a moment to suck on the candy and revel in the chalky sweetness of it before he was cupping your face and tugging you in for another kiss. He licked the sugary sweet taste from your lips, making you moan softly into his mouth as you melted into him.

That time, there was no pulling away. There was none of Jake trying to hold himself back and you chasing after him to make sure he didn’t put distance between the two of you. There was only your mouths fused together, your tongues exploring each other, your breaths mingling as you kissed and kissed and kissed while the romantic comedy played in the background.

After a while, the heat that had built up in your body became nearly unbearable, and your hips squirmed on Jake’s lap restlessly, needing something. Your core brushed against the hard ridge of Jake’s bulge in his jeans and you moaned obscenely into his mouth, pressing down hard enough that you could feel him twitch against your heat.

“That’s a good girl, grind on my cock, princess, take what you need,” Jake muttered, pressing hot kisses to your neck while you rocked on him. His glasses got knocked askew and he took them off, putting them aside with one hand while the other guided your hips to grind harder on his lap.

“Jakey, you feel so good,” you moaned, rolling your hips and grinding your wet slit down on his bulge through your clothes. A part of you wanted to tear through all the fabric that was separating your bodies, but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself, the pleasure too good and quickly driving higher and higher. “God, it’s been so long, I’m gonna cum so fast.”

Jake made a rumbling sound, like hearing that pleased him, and his hands grabbed your hips more roughly, his strong fingers kneading your ass and helping you hump harder on his cock. 

“Good girl, wanna feel you cum on my cock, princess,” he rumbled, his sweet praise making your body hotter and your slit wetter as you rode him through your clothes. “Want you to make a mess all over my lap.” 

“Jakey, Jakey, Jakey,” you whined, leaning back and changing the angle of your hips as you ground down on his bulge. Your fingers clung to the back of Jake’s neck and you panted as your body strained, rocketing toward your release, but you knew you wouldn’t get there without something else. “I need…” you huffed unhappily, not knowing what you needed. 

“I got you, princess,” Jake murmured, pushing your sweater up and pressing a hand between your shoulder blades, lifting your tits to his mouth. His lips wrapped around one pebbled nipple and he sucked, flicking his tongue over the hardened peak and making you cry out. “Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, princess, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

“Oh god, oh Jake, that feels so good,” you babbled, shoving your chest into Jake’s face and pressing your pussy down on his rock hard cock. You began grinding your clit down on his hard length, and you knew you’d reach your release in moments, your lips parting with a gasp as you asked, “Please, can I cum, Jakey?”

Jake froze for just a second, then he was giving your nipple one last affectionate flick of his tongue before moving to the other. He wrapped his lips around it, sucking the hard peak and the softness of your breast into his hot mouth as he stared up at you with his bright blue eyes. 

“You need my permission, princess?” Jake asked teasingly, letting your tit fall from his mouth so he could lean up and cup your face, pressing a heated kiss to your lips. 

“Yes, Jake, please,” you begged in a tight voice, holding yourself back from cumming. 

“You have it,” he rumbled, a ghost of his crooked grin on his lips. “In fact, it’s an order—cum on my cock, princess, let me feel you come apart in my lap.”

Jake’s fingers pinched your nipple at the same time as his hips thrust up from beneath you, his other hand holding you firmly on his lap so his cock was wedged perfectly between your thighs. It was too much and too good and too perfect and the tension in your core snapped. 

You shattered apart with a sharp cry that Jake swallowed with another kiss. His arms wrapped around you and held you tightly as your body shook through the pleasure of your release. Your hips stuttered and your pussy clenched around nothing, and you moaned obscenely into Jake’s mouth until you needed to pull away to gasp for air.

“Oh fuck, you’re so fucking pretty, so fucking gorgeous cumming on my cock,” Jake babbled, pressing kisses to your jaw and neck and cheeks and anywhere he could reach. “I’m gonna—oh shit.”

He groaned loudly, pressing his face into the valley between your tits, his goatee tickling your sensitive skin while his hips rutted up into you from below. Between your thighs, you could feel his cock twitching and a growing wetness pressing into the heated flesh of your legs. 

It took you a long moment for your pleasure-dazed mind to realize what had happened, but when you did, you wrapped your arms around Jake’s neck and raked your nails soothingly through the short hair at the back of his head. 

“Jakey,” you purred, enjoying the way he shuddered through the remnants of his release, his cum sticky through his jeans and cooling rapidly on your inner thighs. “Did I really just make you cum in your pants?” 

“Yes.”

The word was grumbled against your tits a moment before Jake sank his teeth into the soft flesh, making you squeal and writhe on his lap. You may have just gotten off, but you already wanted more. You wanted Jake’s cock buried inside you, filling you completely while he made love to you slow and hard, whispering praises in your ear. 

“You’re too fucking perfect, my fucking dream girl,” Jake muttered, licking his tongue over your skin to soothe the place where he’d just bitten. His tone was a little resentful, and you could tell from the way he was refusing to meet your eye that your big, tough bodyguard was feeling a little insecure about cumming in his pants.

“And you’re my dream guy, Jakey,” you murmured, squeezing him tight and dropping a kiss to his forehead. 

Your words made Jake finally look up, though it was only to give you a dubious look. You laughed lightly and raked your nails through his hair, petting him affectionately.

“My dream guy is someone so obsessed with me that he’d cum in his pants just from watching me cum in his lap,” you explained, grinning down at Jake and lifting him up for a kiss that felt like a promise. “I love that I made you cum, Jakey—especially since it means we have to throw your clothes in the wash now.”

A wicked grin curled your mouth as you pushed yourself up on shaky legs and stood from the couch, dragging Jake up after you. He grabbed his glasses and put them back on, then let you drag him into the laundry room off the kitchen in your apartment. His eyes darkened as you knelt down and undressed him, a groan slipping from his lips as you took your time cleaning him up with your mouth.

When you finally made it back to the couch, the credits were rolling on the movie you’d put on, so you started up another one, barely glancing at the title. You were too distracted by the sight of Jake in one of your t-shirts and a pair of oversized sweatpants that fit him just snugly enough that you could see the outline of his cock through the fabric.

The sound of candy shaking in a cardboard box pulled your attention away from Jake’s lap and you found him searching through the conversation hearts again. You curled into his side and waited patiently while he picked one out, then held up your hand eagerly when he gestured for it.

Be Mine.

Your heart thumped happily in your chest and you popped the candy into your mouth before leaning up and kissing Jake, sharing the chalky sweet taste of the candy with him. 

“I’m all yours, Jakey,” you promised, whispering the words against his lips, unable to stop yourself from grinning wildly. 

“And I’m all yours, princess,” he echoed, pulling away only long enough to pull off his glasses and set them aside. Then he was pushing you down onto your back on the couch and settling between your thighs. “You’re my dream girl.”

“You’re my dream guy,” you said, pulling him down for a kiss. 

It was a long time later when the two of you finally came up for air. Jake’s cell phone was buzzing on the coffee table and he grabbed it, glowering at the screen before typing a response with one hand. He tossed it back down before returning his attention to you. 

“We’re going to have to tell Clay about us, aren’t we?” you asked, giving Jake, then his phone, a wary look. 

Jake huffed a laugh and buried his face in your neck. “Apparently, he already knows,” he muttered.

That gave you pause, and Jake must’ve felt the change in your body because he lifted up, giving you a wry smile. “They all know I’ve had feelings for you since we started this security gig,” he explained. “Clay was saying my lack of timely responses prove Roque’s matchmaking efforts finally worked.”

Your eyes widened as you understood what Jake was saying. Roque hadn’t really been sick, he’d been trying to get you and Jake together on Valentine’s Day. You felt a sudden surge of affection for the gruff man, and even for the leader of the security team, since it seemed he didn’t mind you’d definitely acted inappropriately with your bodyguard.

But that made you wonder, “Will you still be my bodyguard?”

A crooked grin spread across Jake’s face and he ducked down to kiss you. “Of course, princess,” he murmured, squeezing you tight in his arms. “Clay knows I’ll take even better care of you now—I’ll be the best bodyguard you’ve ever had.” He brushed a kiss to your cheek, making you giggle at the tickle of his goatee. “He’s sending Cougar over to watch our backs, though.”

That made you giggle and pull Jake’s face back to yours for another kiss. “Good,” you said in between pressing kisses to Jake’s mouth. “Then I don’t have to worry about distracting you too much.”

You giggled when Jake attacked your mouth, and the two of you sank into each other again. It wasn’t long before you were tugging each other’s clothes off and exploring each other more fully. 

For the rest of the night, you enjoyed your time with Jake, getting to know him on an even deeper, more intimate level—and learning he was just as good at cuddling as you imagined.

It was the first of many Valentine’s Days with Jake Jensen, your bodyguard and boyfriend, and each one was more special than the last because your crush had grown into real feelings, which he returned. He was no longer off-limits. He was yours and you were his.

sweethearts game masterlist

[logrimes80]

She is an amazing writer, she works super hard, and deserves all the praise, blessings, and soooo much more that comes her way! Join her patreon, buy her books/games, support her anyway you can, she is one of the only writers that works really hard to put out content on a regular basis. She doesn't let the original books/games fall behind for the sake of the extras, she is just outstanding all around. @when-life-gives-you-lemons-if, C.C. Hill we all love you, and the amazing job you do. Everything you write/touch turns to gold, just *chef's kiss* Thank you so much for all your hard work!!! I know it's late but I hope you had a wonderful 💕 Valentine's Day!!!!💞 💙🖤❤️‍🔥💜💙🖤❤️‍🔥💜

Our second edition of the Black History Month Author Spotlight series features beloved author, C.C. Hill (@when-life-gives-you-lemons-if)!

(CC is an absolute institution. What better way to celebrate Valentine’s than by doing a feature of the slice-of-life romance queen herself? CC is one the most inspiring, supportive IF writers out there, and it was a great honor to pick her brain! Read on for pandemic-setting feel good stories and Creole-based spells!)

Author: C.C. Hill

I'm from Haiti, born and raised. I love red wine, ice cream, and I'm obsessed with true crime podcasts.

Games: When Life Gives You Lemons (Slice-of-Life)

Synopsis: You play as an MC starting a new life in a small town called Lemon. It’s a story about self-discovery, love, and parenthood—a comfort story where the love interests want to sweep you off your feet.

Games: The Midnight Saga (Horror)

Synopsis: After finding yourself trapped in another dimension, you and your friends must fight for survival and defeat the monsters that lurk in the shadows. Make sure to grab a weapon as your quiet Halloween night turns into an out-of-this-world adventure!

Quote from the interview:

What mostly inspired Lemon in particular was the need for a feel-good story—a story where the character just needs a break. No magic, no monsters, just going through life and having the romance options fall in love with them no matter what. It was just the need for comfort, for feel-good moments, for romance, and a little bit of drama.

Read on for the full interview!

Tell me more about yourself! What are some things new readers or long-time readers might not know about you?

I'm from Haiti, born and raised. I love red wine, ice cream, and I'm obsessed with true crime podcasts.

Can you tell me a bit about what you’re working on right now and your journey into interactive fiction? What inspired the game/story you’re currently writing?

I'm working on so many things it should be illegal for my brain to operate this way. But mainly, When Life Gives You Lemons. My plan is to focus on the final part in March, do some beta testing, and submit it to Hosted Games in April for my birthday month.

I'm also under contract with Heart’s Choice, writing Spices of the Heart, with hopes of completing it this year. On top of that, I’m working on publishing my first visual novel, The Wedding. It’s close to completion, and I have the third quarter of 2025 planned for publication.

I only started writing interactive fiction in 2020. When the pandemic hit, I needed something to keep my brain occupied, and five years later, I’ve published three games and still have a ton of projects in progress.What mostly inspired Lemon in particular was the need for a feel-good story—a story where the character just needs a break. No magic, no monsters, just going through life and having the romance options fall in love with them no matter what. It was just the need for comfort, for feel-good moments, for romance, and a little bit of drama.

How has your identity, heritage/background, upbringing, or personal experiences influenced your storytelling or writing process? OR How does your work feature aspects of your identity / experience?

My first game, The Midnight Saga, was heavily inspired by my background and where I'm from. The story itself is based on an old Haitian folklore about not staying outside after midnight—if you do, the Keeper of Midnight will eat you. I took that idea and built the characters around it.

I even managed to include some spells written in Haitian Creole. It was a lot of fun to write, and even though Book 2 is currently on hiatus, this story has a special place in my heart because it was my first game. The characters are a representation of my people and the struggles they’ve gone through. I’m really happy that it was my debut story.

What are some of the most rewarding or challenging aspects of writing Interactive Fiction for you?

For me, it’s branching and being able to write an MC and other characters in a way that readers can truly connect with. Lately, I’ve been writing a lot of feel-good romance and slice-of-life stories, and I’m starting to feel like this is my comfort zone—and I want to stay here forever.

I never want to create a romance option that is inherently bad or purposely deceitful. My biggest challenge is writing characters who are flawed and complex—where readers can love them or hate them—but making sure they aren’t just villains for the sake of it. They’re simply existing in the world they were created in.

What does your writing process look like? Any rituals or habits? Any tips, tricks, philosophies or approaches that have worked very well for you?

My writing process is a mess. My brain gets pulled in so many directions. When I get an idea, I have to code it, shape it, and give it life—otherwise, it’s going to bug me forever. That’s why I end up with so many WIPs. I need to see them through, at least to a short demo, to see if they make sense.

My desk is also full of notes, and I basically write on anything—pieces of napkins, tissue boxes, whatever is nearby. One weird habit I have is that some of the best changes I’ve made to my games, those "spark" moments, happen when I’m in the shower. It’s weird and strange, but it works.

What’re you excited to tackle/implement/work on next? Or anything you’re looking forward to in the year ahead?

Keep writing romance and feel-good slice-of-life stories. Get When Life Gives You Lemons published this year. Focus on doing this full-time. Publish my visual novel.

Overall, just stay busy and be productive.

If you were to say one thing to your readers, other authors, and/or the interactive fiction community: what would it be?

To the readers—us authors don’t have all the answers. Sometimes, we start writing a story and end up forgetting certain plots or characters, which is easy to do when writing interactive fiction. So yes, we often write ourselves into a corner and just put a period there so the story can progress.

To the authors—write stories you love, something you would want to read. It makes it easier to keep going because if it’s a story you love, you’ll want to see how it ends, and that will push you to persevere.

This-or-that segment: (red = CC's pick)

Coffee or tea?

Early mornings or late nights?

Angsty or Cozy romances?  

Steady progress or frenzied binge-writing followed by periods of calm?

Introvert or extrovert?

Plotter or pantser?

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 9

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader WC: 6.6k Rating: E / 18+ MDNI Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: No outbreak!AU, fluff, romance, Joel-typical pet names (darlin’, sugar, sweetheart, baby), soft!Joel, fingering, protected PIV, no use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back, wears dresses and heels, blushes and wears makeup.

A/N: Who has two thumbs, was going to post this on Valentine’s day and then decided to re-write the entire thing at the last second? This guy! So apologies if you’ve been waiting for it, but it’s finally here and I so hope it was worth the wait! The slow part of the burn is officially over by the end of this chapter.  Also, I’ll be honest with you, I’m a little blown away by the response to the Joel Miller one shot fics I posted pre- V day, and I’m so, so happy that people are enjoying them. It’s giving me the motivation to write more, challenge myself and take little steps outside my comfort zone. I’ve only been publishing my fanfic since December 2024, and I’m just so grateful to have been welcomed by such an amazing community of people who love these characters as much as I do. You’re all so wonderful and deserve all the love <3 Now, without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

The weather that morning earned an involuntary noise of disgust when you pulled back the curtains; big grey clouds and heavy rain. You dressed and shuffled through to the kitchen before the temptation to climb back in to bed won you over. 

Your laptop was on the table, still open after a late night of playing catch-up on projects with deadlines looming, the backlog since your trip almost cleared. The only thing left in your diary for the week was a momentous client meeting scheduled for Friday morning. Seeing the calendar entry staring back at you from the screen made your stomach swoop. 

It was the kind of opportunity you would have given your left arm for six months ago, when you had thrown all caution to the wind in a moment of madness and quit your job to become a freelancer, armed only with a handful of loyal clients and sheer, grief-ridden determination. The kind of opportunity that had stayed present in your mind’s eye when the late nights had started to become all too much but you still took on new work to add to your portfolio, desperate to scratch out a place for yourself amidst a horrendously competitive industry. If you were being honest, you knew that it was a better opportunity than you would have ever had with the firm you left in New York, and it felt like everything that you’d poured in to your career over the last ten or so years had led to this. 

You exhaled, closing the laptop with a quiet click. No pressure. 

The remaining few pieces of work could wait until the afternoon. Spending the last couple of mornings with Joel had thrown off your self-imposed work routine, forcing you to work later than you usually did, but you didn’t mind.  

The buzz of your phone ringing knocked you out of any daydream you were about to have about Joel. Your stomach lurched at the thought of a call at such an unsocial hour, but you huffed a laugh when you checked the screen, panic dissipating as soon as you answered.  

“Please tell me this is not you phoning before you go to bed,” you said, balancing the phone between your chin and shoulder while you reached up to pull a cereal box out of the cupboard. 

Summer groaned down the phone at you. “I wish!”

Her usual bright voice was dulled with tiredness as she told you she was on her way to a job interview and had forgotten her coffee, and that it was now your job to keep her awake while she drove there. You couldn’t help but giggle at her uncharacteristic malaise as you pulled a bowl from the cabinet.

“You’re a different person this early in the morning, Summer,” you said, sniffing the milk before you poured it over your cereal. You switched your phone to speaker to save her the noise of up-close crunching. 

“And you’re somehow happier this early in the morning than you are the rest of the time,” She retorted. You were glad she couldn’t see the burning blush on your face when you admitted that you were meeting Joel that morning, and that it might have been adding to your good mood. After she’d let out a squeal, Summer seemed a lot more awake, demanding all of the details. You told her between mouthfuls of cereal vague details about New York, about how you finally got his number, about your walk with him in the park, finding out about his kid, holding hands and then finally, that he’d kissed you. 

“Oh, this is all so cute, I can’t handle it!” Summer squeaked. 

“It is kinda cute,” you admitted, swiping through your phone to look at the picture of the invitation Joel had sent over the day before, accompanied by a message telling you he’d made a dinner reservation, signed off with a couple of x’s, which had made your stomach squiggly. “We’re going on a date tomorrow night. He’s taking me to dinner and then an art gallery opening.” 

“Oh my god,” Summer said with a laugh, “And to think you needed a push to actually talk to this guy. You’re welcome, by the way.”  “Yes, alright, thank you,” you said dryly, shaking your head as you scrolled back up through Joel’s messages, smiling fondly down at your screen. “He is pretty great, Summer. I’m just not-”

“You’re just not nothin’!” She said, cutting through a yawn, “You’re having a good time and that’s all that matters.” 

“I think you just want to live vicariously through me,” you said with a grin.

“Obviously,” she said, “I need to know every detail about this date. I’m talking everything- what you wear, what he wears, what you order, how you stare at each other over a candlelit dinner, how he won’t be able to keep his hands off you, how you’re totally going to invite him back to your place afterwards and-”

“Jesus, Sum,” you muttered, pulling on your shoes, hoping she didn’t hear the excitement laced through your half-hearted rebuke.

“Oh come on,” she whined. “He’s taking you to see art. You can’t tell me that man doesn’t have you weak in the knees already.”

She wasn’t wrong. 

As you’d fallen asleep last night it had struck you that no one had ever looked at you like Joel did- the deep admiration present in those beautiful brown eyes was so intense that it stole your breath and sent tingles down to your fingertips. Spending time with him filled you with a funny feeling- like someone had shaken a bee hive and shoved it right in your chest cavity- the relentless buzz only increased the closer you were to seeing him again. It wasn’t just your knees that were weak, but you weren’t going to admit that to anyone. 

“You still there?” 

You cleared your throat, “Yeah, I’m here. Listen, are you sure you should be focussing on my love life instead of your interview?”

“Rude,” Summer said, and you could practically feel the playful swat to the arm she’d have dished out had she been there in person. “But fine. I’ll have you know I’m here anyway, so you’re off the hook.” 

“Good luck,” you said, glancing at the the clock on your stove. You needed to get moving if you wanted to get to Harrison’s on time. “Let me know how it goes.” 

“Thanks, I will. And hey- have fun with your man today!” 

“He’s not my man,” you said, knowing you’d lost that argument before you even spoke. 

“Mhm. Keep telling yourself that.” 

With a final knowing giggle, Summer hung up.  

The lingering heat and morning rain had left everything damp and heavy, including you. By the time you made it to Harrison’s, Joel was already at your usual table, looking just as soaked- but unfairly good - his shirt clinging to his broad shoulders and damp curls sticking out at odd angles. He stood to greet you with a kiss to your cheek, murmuring his usual “hey, darlin’” before you settled across from him, still catching your breath. 

You mentioned you wouldn’t be able to meet the next morning, and Joel’s concern sent a pang of guilt through you. You explained it was for an exciting work opportunity and his worry softened in to relief and then in to a proud grin as he listened, squeezing your hand in reassurance. 

“Ain’t no way you won’t do great, sugar,” he said, thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Then we’ll have another reason to celebrate tomorrow night.” 

You tried prying for details about your dinner plans, but he only smirked.“You’ve got enough goin’ on tomorrow. All you gotta do is give me your address and be ready for six, everythin’ else is taken care of.”

You woke up two hours before your alarm on Friday morning, powerless to do anything other than stare at the ceiling as you tried to breath through the churning in your stomach. By the time you could have easily drifted off again it was time to get up. Typical. 

Joel had sent messages for you to wake up to, wishing you good luck and reiterating that he couldn’t wait to take you out that night. You glanced at them periodically as you got ready for your meeting, and each time you did a pleasant fuzziness washed over you, sending a warmth rolling through your limbs, a calming sensation that you wished you could bottle.  

Before you parted ways the day before, it had seemed that Joel had been unable to take his hands off of you for more than a minute, like if he let you go you’d float off in to the ether and never be seen again. And you had welcomed it every time. Each touch from him left you needing more, like a craving you would never quite be able to satisfy. When he’d kissed you on that corner again he’d seemed more reluctant than ever to leave you behind, pressing gentle lingering kisses to your lips, one hand grasping your hip and the fingers of the other cupping the nape of your neck, his calloused fingertips bushing over your skin with a tenderness that sent a slow, searing heat pulsing through you- twisting at the base of your spine and down your legs. Every time you’d thought about it since, the memory of it morphed in to a sensation within you that was utterly sinful. 

You wanted him to know the effect he had on you, what his touch and kisses did to you and what they made you want to do to him. Instead you settled for  texting back ‘Thank you, handsome. Can’t wait to see you later xx’. You wondered if he could sense that it was the understatement of the century. You just had to make it through the next couple of hours, and then Joel would have your undivided attention for the rest of the day. 

The client meeting turned out to be a different beast than you’d expected. Of course you had joined the call prepared to discuss your work, processes and newly developed ideas for their branding, but almost immediately after introductions had been made it started to feel much more like a job interview and less like the semi-informal chat that you had anticipated. Their questions were pointed and detailed and you scrambled internally for what felt like an age to meet the tone whilst trying to keep a light and friendly attitude. It took a hot minute, but you adjusted and adapted, slipping in to a corporate headspace easier than you thought you could, as if the ability had been lying dormant all these months.

As the meeting went on and you began to share your portfolio with them, explaining past briefs and projects, some of the tension in your shoulders dissipated and you realised that you were more than holding your own. By the time the call ended, the knot in your stomach had loosened and been replaced with something unfamiliar but not unpleasant. You would hear at some point that afternoon whether the client had chosen to work with you, and you closed your laptop with an air of finality, knowing that whatever the outcome, you had done your best. 

You could finally let yourself get excited about your date with Joel. 

You had picked out what to wear for that evening on the same day as he had asked you out, and it had hung on the back of your bedroom door ever since; a simple black dress with thin spaghetti straps and a tiny embroidered detail around the hem that came to sit mid-thigh. You’d had to fish a pair of heels out of one of the unpacked boxes in your closet, and it took you longer to find your jewellery than it did for you to do your hair and makeup. When you were finally ready and looked at yourself in the mirror, there was a curious difference to you that you couldn’t name. 

Your phone pinged, pulling you from your thoughts and you checked it with hands that were only trembling a little. You had to read the email three or four times before the words sank in: you’d landed the client.  

By the time your buzzer sounded that evening, you had practically paced a hole in the floor. Joel arrived just before six, and you threw open the door to him as soon as he knocked. 

The sight in front of you made your brain short-circuit for a beat before you remembered to smile. Joel didn’t seem to notice because it looked like he was having the same experience. He’d traded his usual worn flannel and faded denim for a smart tailored jacket atop a button down, dark wash jeans and shiny leather boots. His curls were pushed back, tamed and slick. You knew he cleaned up well, but you hadn’t expected this. He was clutching a bouquet of white roses and you saw the way his fingers gripped them tighter as his eyes fell over you. 

You broke the silence first. “Looking sharp, Miller!”

He found his composure just long enough to chuckle and hold out a hand to gesture toward you. “And you-” he struggled for a moment to complete the sentence, shaking his head with wide eyes. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart.” 

You stepped closer, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, but even the briefest touch caused the cascade of a molten desire from your chest to the pit of your stomach. His breath hitched-just barely- but you felt it. The scent of his cologne, sweet and woodsy, hit you and made it difficult not to linger against him even longer in the hope that it might transfer on to your skin so you could smell him even when he wasn’t near you. When you pulled back, his fingers brushed over yours as he handed you the bouquet. You thanked him, voice softer now, invited him in and turned toward the kitchen to find a vase, acutely aware of the weight of his gaze following you. 

As you arranged the roses you were struck with the realisation that Joel was the only person who’d stepped foot in your apartment that wasn’t you. You bit your lip as you watched him look around from your spot in the kitchen, a lopsided grin on his face as he took in your space with quiet consideration. You’d cleaned before he’d arrived so that it looked its best, but having someone else there, examining the artwork on the walls and the trinkets on your shelves pried open a sliver of vulnerability you hadn’t expected. 

“I like your place.” Joel said, stepping toward you again, having done a reasonably thorough tour of the living space in a couple of strides. 

You grinned up at him, placing the filled vase in the center of your kitchen table. “Thanks. It’s cozy, but it’s home.” 

He tapped his knuckle against a small photo booth strip pinned near the corner of your fridge. “That your friend from the coffee shop?” 

You glanced over at it- you and Summer from her birthday party- her grinning wide, you mid-laugh, heads tipped toward each other. “Yeah, that’s Summer.” 

Joel hummed, mouth twitching in to a grin as he leaned against the counter. “You know the day she was there I’d finally worked up the nerve to talk to you,” he said, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Had it all planned out: was gonna come over and ask you somethin’ corny and lame. Right as I was about to…” he gestured toward the photo with a coy smile.

You laughed, shaking your head. “If it makes you feel any better, she spent the next ten minutes before you left that day trying to get me to go over and talk to you. She’s very invested in the development of the time we’ve been spending together.” 

Joel’s eyebrows lifted at that. “Oh yeah?”

You caught yourself and a heat crept up the back of your neck. “Don’t we have a dinner reservation to make?” You said, plucking your bag from the back of a chair and heading for the door. 

Joel stepped ahead of you to open the door to his truck for you to climb in. Being in a space that was so uniquely his felt more intimate than it should have. The truck suited him- an older model Chevy, immaculately kept. The interior was spotless save for a pack of gum and a couple of coins in the center console and it smelled like fresh linen. You absently wondered if he cleaned it especially for you or if it always looked like this.

When Joel climbed in a moment later and you asked him where you were headed to, he only winked at you. Laughter bubbled up in your chest before you could help it, and he set off looking rather pleased with himself. 

The restaurant wasn’t far, and as soon as Joel pulled up outside, you realised you knew about it through a recommendation from Summer. It was nice. You grinned at him as he rounded the front of the truck to open the door for you again. His hand came to rest at the small of your back and the weight of it sent a lick of fire curling up your spine. You resisted the urge to fidget as you were shown to your table, loathe to lose the warmth seeping through the fabric of your dress from Joel’s palm. 

As you waited for your food, you considered that you didn’t think you’d ever met someone as outwardly comforting as Joel- his presence was like a warm hug, even from across the table and he didn’t even seem aware of it. You were enjoying the opportunity to openly admire him. His resting facial expression leaned toward a frown, you’d learned. It accounted for the deep lines that appeared, etched in to his brow easily as he talked, an expression that was clearly familiar to his face. It was his eyes that really spoke to his true personality- warm and open when he looked at you, young and boyish when they glinted mischievously as they were now. You were drawn to it- the paradox of this man. You came to the conclusion that he’d probably spent years curating a stand-offish reputation, but had failed to realise that his aura couldn’t be altered. 

The candlelight added hazy flickers of light across you both. It glimmered in Joel’s eyes as he listened to you tell him about the outcome of the client meeting that morning, your own joy reflected back at you by him- the beauty of it made the world slow and allowed you to really take in the sight of him, like a memory you were aware was being stored, a saved snippet of time that you already knew would be something fond to look back on. When he raised his glass to toast your success, it broke the magic of the moment, but you didn’t have a second to mourn it. The clink of the glasses was soft, but the look Joel gave you after, over his glass, held an intensity that made it hard to keep your eyes on his, the low light now accentuating a hunger within them that made your pulse spike. 

For a second, you wondered if you could end the night right there, drag him back to your apartment and lose yourself in the heat curling against your insides when he looked at you like that. You pressed your thighs together and shifted in your seat, eyes unable to hold his gaze any longer. He cleared his throat and when you looked back at him, any hint of the hunger had been masked by sweetness again. 

Dinner was over in the blink of an eye. The food was tasty, although you barely noticed what you were even eating- too focussed on Joel, searching his face for any sign of the hint of lust you’d seen from him before, but it didn’t show again. He insisted on settling the bill after a short not-quite-argument with you about splitting it. “My treat, sugar,” he’d said in a tone that made it obvious you were never going to change his mind. 

The gallery wasn’t far, but Joel insisted on driving there to save you walking in your heels, and his consideration for you made the heat building inside you whip around like a wild thing, impossible to ignore. 

The sun was beginning to set, and it bathed everything in a lovely orange glow that was doing nothing to dispel the dreamlike haze that had settled over your evening. You turned your face toward it and basked in its warmth while Joel drove the few blocks to the gallery.

The entrance was marked by red velvet ropes and a matching carpet that stretched up to tall glass doors, and Joel’s hand tensed in yours as you approached them.

“You alright?” You asked, stopping him with a gentle tug when he didn’t reply, eyes searching his for an answer.

His gaze flicked past you and over the well-dressed guests milling around the entrance. “I’m just- this ain’t exactly my scene.” 

You squeezed his hand and offered him a lopsided grin. “Just look serious and nod, remember?” 

He gave you a sidelong glance and a smirk. “That’s… what I usually do anyway.” 

“Then you’re already a natural,” you teased, brushing your thumb over his knuckles and leading him toward the door. 

The hum of conversation inside overlapped and bounced off the modern concrete interior in a way that was mildly overwhelming. You were greeted by a well-dressed man at a makeshift reception desk, who exchanged Joel’s invitation for a gallery guide, which was immediately passed over to you. You let go of his hand to flick through it, happily soaking up the atmosphere as you suggested what to look at first. 

You led Joel through the crowd at the entrance to find a quieter spot. The art you passed to get there was stunning, and you made a note to come back and look at those later. You ambled around a smaller gallery and Joel’s eyes flicked over each piece as you read mumbled excerpts from the guide aloud and added your own thoughts. You weren’t quite sure if the furrow of his brow was deliberate or not. 

“You okay if I get us a drink?” He murmured, resting a hand against your back as he leaned in. 

You gave him a reassuring smile and a nod, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be here.” 

You watched as he disappeared toward the bar, briefly admiring the fit of his jeans before you turned back to the artwork, allowing yourself the opportunity now to fully take it in. The contemporary pieces that lined the walls were bold and chaotic, all by the same artist. One particular piece caught your attention: a canvas streaked with jagged lines of charcoal against an expanse of pale grey. In the corner there was one tiny circle of orange, painted to look as if it was burning white hot, its rings of light radiating and mixing with the drab background. You took a step closer and tilted your head to examine it. The sensation that it pulled from you was not unlike a sense of hope. 

You startled, breath catching when a hand clutching a champagne flute appeared in front of you and let out a breathy laugh when you realised it was Joel standing behind you. You took the glass from him and he leaned in close over your shoulder. 

“Fascinating use of negative space.” He said, agonisingly close to your ear. You exhaled loudly what you hoped sounded like a laugh and not a barely contained moan.

Your eyelids fluttered shut briefly as you leaned in to him. His hand gripped your waist in response and held you steady, body pressing against yours in a way that stole the air from your lungs. Certain that he was about to pepper experimentally bold kisses against your neck, you shifted under his touch in a silent invitation. 

The titter of polite laughter echoing from across the gallery interrupted the moment and brought you both back to your senses. Joel moved to stand by your side, but his hand stayed firmly on your waist as you continued your tour of the artwork. You glanced up at him and caught the tick of his jaw before he managed to hide it with a smile. 

You made it to the third room before Joel was intercepted by someone he knew. You were introduced to the project management team that oversaw the work undertaken by Joel’s firm, and didn’t miss the way his fingers flexed by his side when one of the team paid you a compliment and leaned in to peck a kiss against your cheek, totally ignoring the hand you’d offered him to shake and leaving you with nothing left to do but meet him in an awkward half-hug. As soon as he’d stepped away, you inched closer to Joel as the conversation moved on, leaning against him gratefully when his hand found the small of your back again. 

The team introduced you both to some of the artists and soon enough you were separated, pulled in to different conversations until you were at opposite ends of the room, sparing glances through the crowd until you lost sight of each other completely. 

Taking advantage of a lull in conversation with a very enthusiastic art collector, you managed to pull away and head back to the first gallery you’d entered. You’d long-since lost your guidebook and your glass of wine, placed down on a cocktail table and left behind at some point over the course of your conversations, but you knew you wanted to look at one piece again before you started your search for Joel. 

You crossed your arms this time as you viewed it, standing closer and then further away, eyes fixed on the tiny orange glow in the bottom corner. It’d be easy to miss if you weren’t examining the piece, lost in the void of grey and black jagged lines. You only realised when you changed your viewing angle, that they were formed with paint into raised craggy bumps. You bent down to inspect the glowing orange dot and realised that the burning white centre of it was actually a hole in the canvas, made deliberately and then worked around.  You stood and walked back to the middle to view it in its entirety one last time before you moved on, but you were interrupted by the sound of soft footsteps walking toward you. You glanced round to see Joel, watching you with a tilt to his head and a grin on his face. 

“Hey, darlin’. You alright?” 

You nodded and reached for his hand when he was close enough. 

“I think this one is my favourite,” you murmured. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you both viewed it. Joel stood quietly beside you, frowning at the painting as if he was really looking this time. He let out a low hum as he traced circles against the back of your hand. 

“I think it suits you,” he said, voice rumbling through the top of your head. 

You turned to glance up at him. “Oh yeah? How come?” 

Joel fixed you with a look that was so warm you almost melted. “‘Cause you’re a little ray of sunshine, darlin’. You’re as bright as that dot there, and you don’t even seem to realise it.” 

There wasn’t even time to take a breath before your lips were on his. He froze for a second before he exhaled sharply through his nose and kissed you back, smiling against your mouth. It drove you wild. You had never wanted anyone as much as you wanted him right now. 

Cradling his face with both hands, you pulled back just enough to mumble, “You wanna get out of here, handsome?” 

You don’t remember if Joel even said anything before you were walking out the door and back toward his truck. 

By the time you made it back to your apartment, nothing could have stopped what was in motion. Joel had hardly taken his hands off of you since you left the gallery, apparently intent on driving you absolutely feral. He was starting to learn what types of touches affected you the most and was using his newfound knowledge to be an absolute menace. You’d barely made it in the door before his mouth was on yours again. His hands were everywhere, pressing you against him like he was starved and you were the only thing that would sate him. You pushed his jacket from his shoulders and started to fumble with the buttons on his shirt as his fingers mapped out your curves, like he was hell-bent on memorising every inch of you. 

You pushed against him, gently guiding him backwards to your bedroom door and he let you take the lead. You kicked off your shoes, discarding them as your fingers twisted in the fabric of his shirt, unwilling to let go of him for even a second. Your breathing quickened as the heat between you grew unbearable. 

Joel backed up step by step until the back of his knees hit the edge of your bed. He paused, your face between his hands, his breathing matching pace with yours. When he spoke his voice was low, thick with restraint.

“You sure, darlin’?” 

“Fuck yeah,” you breathed. “I’m sure.” 

He lowered himself back on to the mattress with a grunt and his palms slid up your thighs instinctively as you climbed on to his lap. He began to press his kisses along the curve of your collarbone and up the column of your neck, dragging breathy gasps from you with each one. 

His breath was hot, ghosting your neck as he murmured against your skin. “Wanted to do this all goddamn night.” 

You barely managed to whine in response before his mouth was back on you, kissing over your jaw toward your lips. A shudder rolled through you and you rocked your hips, desperate for friction. He groaned against you and the sound poured gasoline on the fire that he had stoked since you left the gallery. 

You wanted more. You needed more. 

Your fingers rose to the zipper at the side of your dress and tugged it down. Joel’s hands stilled and his chest rose and fell with measured breaths, jaw tensing as you lifted the dress off over your head and unclasped your bra before throwing both pieces of clothing haphazardly across the room.

“Jesus,” he muttered, fingers twitching against your thighs as he drank you in. 

You smiled, emboldened by his reaction and shifted your hips just enough to pull a groan from him when he didn’t move. 

“You gonna just stare, Miller?” 

Joel blinked twice before his lips parted with a groan. Your goading snapped him in to action and he flipped your positions in a blur of limbs, pressing you down in to the mattress with a kiss. 

He stood and pulled his wallet from the pocket of his jeans, throwing it on to the edge of the bed. You watched him, biting your lip as he shrugged off his shirt, unbuckled his belt and pulled off his jeans and boxers, his hard length springing back up to hit the skin of his stomach. He knelt at the edge of the bed and traced his hands up your legs, ghosted past your thighs and curled his fingers round the waistband of your underwear, sliding them down with a reverence that made you whine. 

He positioned himself back on top of you, retracing the movement with his fingers, inching toward your centre with maddening, teasing touches. 

Your hands flailed around you for purchase in the sheets and your hips bucked up toward his hand. You whimpered- a plea for him to move his fingers where you wanted them most. 

“It’s alright, darlin’,” he drawled, “You’ll get what you need.” 

A moan broke from your throat with a jolt when he finally brushed his fingers gently through your folds.

He caught your lips in a kiss as he stroked up again and again, pressing featherlight touches to your clit with every one. A familiar tightness began to coil within you and your breaths quickened. Joel hummed in approval and brushed against your clit one last time before his fingers parted your folds and slid in to you. He curled them experimentally, pulling back to watch your face as he did. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes blown with lust as he took in your changing expressions at the pleasure building inside you. You clenched down and he pressed steadily against the same point with his fingers curled inside you. You were so close, and Joel knew it. 

“Come on, baby,” he said, voice absolutely wrecked, “I’ve got you, come f’me.”

It was all it took to push you over the edge. Your release surged through you so fiercely that your entire body tensed before the flame curling against your spine sparked and sent molten hot tingles through your core and in to your limbs. A sharp gasp tore from your lips, followed by loud, unrestrained moans as you came undone for him. Your back arched as Joel continued, his fingers unrelenting as he guided you through every pulsing aftershock. You realised that he was speaking as your breaths returned to normal, murmuring praise against your temple, the sound his voice mingling with the thrum of your heartbeat. 

You let out a soft groan as he traced slow circles over your clit with his thumb, stretching out the rolling pleasure of your orgasm until every last shuddering, breathless moan had been drawn from you. He finally slipped his fingers from you with one last pulse from your oversensitive nerves, and you whined in protest at the loss. 

“You alright, darlin’?,” he asked, brushing his fingertips along your thigh. You offered him a hum in response, too dazed to string words together. 

He smiled down at you, fingers tracing up your arm and along your collarbone before dancing light touches toward your nipple and you arched up in to his strokes with a breathy moan. 

He shifted to kiss you, pressing his body against yours. His cock sat hard and heavy against your thigh and when you shifted against him he let out a sound so raw it made your stomach flip. You reached down, wrapping your fingers gently around his length.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, hips bucking in to your hand. 

You stroked him slowly, and he tensed under your touch, flexing his hands against your hips with trembling fingers.

Joel reached for your wrist with a breathy chuckle, stilling your movements. “You keep that up, darlin’, and this’ll be over before we even get started.”

He pulled back to reach for his wallet and slid a condom from it. Mirroring your knowing smile with one of his own, he rolled it on with ease, and positioned himself at your entrance, waiting for a signal from you before going any further. You arched your body toward his in anticipation and after letting out a long, shaky breath. he slid in to you. Your moans mingled together as he filled you completely. Your nails dug in to his shoulders as the overwhelming fulness sparked a fresh flicker of heat low in your stomach. 

“Christ, baby,” he murmured, shuddering above you. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” 

You couldn’t muster the breath to respond, lost in the way he fit against you. Instead, you rolled your hips, coaxing a strangled moan from him. 

That was all it took. 

With a deep, throaty sound, Joel pulled back and thrust in to you again, dragging gasped moans from you with every grind of his hips. Slow and deep, he managed to hit a point within you with every thrust that sent white hot sparks flying through you. His breath came in uneven pants against your skin as he pressed closer, forearms braced on either side of your head. 

“God, you’re so perfect. So fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, sliding a hand to the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair and pressing his forehead to yours with care that would have made you sob had you been able to focus on anything. Each slow roll of his hips made you quiver, nudging you to the edge with every measured stroke. Joel hissed through gritted teeth at the sensation, his fingers tightening their grip in your hair. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, c’mon- let me feel it.” 

His girl. 

The words caused aching pleasure to crest over you like a tide, warm and all-consuming. You clung to him as it crashed against your core, almost taking everything inside you with it. The cry that broke from your throat was muffled by a high pitched ringing in your ears and for a second all you could see were bright white flashes, strobing over your vision so intensely you had to close your eyes against them. 

You heard Joel’s groan, giving way to a string of hissed curses as he felt you tighten around him, his movements stuttering. He let out a choked cry as he dropped his head to your shoulder, the last of his control unravelling. His thrusts grew erratic and with a final shuddering breath, he followed you over the edge, his grip on you tightening as he let himself fall. 

For a moment, neither of you moved. You didn’t know which way was up- you might as well have been catapulted off in to the stratosphere with how weightless your limbs felt. Joel’s lips brushed against your temple as he moved his hand to touch your cheek with slow, lazy movements. You opened your eyes to find his staring back at you and you let out a huff of disbelief before your face broke in to a wide smile.  

“Holy shit,” you said as Joel let out a soft chuckle of his own in agreement. 

You only moved when your limbs started to tingle with the threat of pins and needles. Joel disappeared momentarily to the bathroom before padding through and sliding back in to bed beside you. You curled in to him, peppering kisses over the freckles on his shoulder as he brushed lazy strokes up and down the curve of your waist. 

“Will you stay the night?” You half-whispered against his skin. The words came out before you could really think about them, needier than you intended.

“‘Course I will, darlin’,” he breathed back. Even as he fought off sleep, his tone made you realise he hadn’t even considered the alternative.

The residual desire pulsing through you parted to make way for a curious sensation that swirled its way in to your chest. It dripped through the edge of your consciousness, building to a trickle, settling like a balm over the lingering pain there. Pain caused by the shards of your broken heart left to scrape away at your insides for months. 

Joel pressed the gentlest of kisses to the top of your head and pulled you in to his chest. You sank in to him, listening as his breaths turned to tiny snores, and wondered as you drifted off alongside him whether he would ever know that he was the one who put the first tiny piece of your heart back together.

Next Chapter

[ateez-himari]

VALENTINE'S DAY; HIGHLIGHTS

The Day of Love showed the world what fate looks like

. . You have become the inspiration for these lyrics, stay with me

The elderly woman watched fondly as the young couple explored her flower shop and despite not understanding their language it was clear in the way they looked at one another that their love was much deeper than anyone could ever hope to understand. The very air around them seemed lighter as if the universe itself was opening a path anywhere their steps took them, and when young woman's hand tightened around her boyfriend's as his lips gently placed themselves on her forehead, the tenderness they held for each other almost made the florist's own heart melt.

Several customers had halted their shopping to observe these magnetic individuals who appeared to have escaped from a castle due to their carefully selected outfits, though this might just have been an excuse to explain why they were so entranced at the sight of two people doing something so simple as creating a bouquet. The classical music filtering through old speakers could barely compare to the beautiful harmony that their laughs created, the younger woman's body pressing against the man's side as his arm wrapped around her waist protectively, the hand adorned with one singular ring drawing soft circles on her ribs.

. . When I'm not by your side, when the illusion is empty

Atiny suspected that something special was coming when the captain's ment went on longer than expected with the mention that it was a special day for many couples around the world, and when he turned towards their lead rapper, who proceeded to get on one knee in front of his girlfriend, gasps filled the audience.

"Our hotel room didn't feel special enough, so please let me ask you again on this stage in front of everyone. Angel, will you do me the honor of being my Valentine ?"

Clearly taken aback by this sudden romanticism the maknae's cat-like eyes widened as her hand slowly settled in the man's own extended one, mouth stretching into the brightest smile after taking several seconds to understand what was happening and uttering out an audible agreement. Mingi swiftly picked up the young woman and closed the gap between their lips in a visibly loving kiss as the members decided to add to the moment by showering the lovers using their pierced water bottles.

. . I'll let you see and hear me

Morning light wrapped around the couple as they walked along the paved streets, the young woman having insisted on holding the large bouquet despite her boyfriend's numerous words of protests looking as though she should have been in the midst of a flower field instead of the harshness of the city. Light brown irises appearing closer to pure gold in the flattering sunlight lingered over the figure of the one whose hand was laced with her own, tracing every single feature; from his dark inviting eyes down to his beautiful lips and finally resting on the silver bands wrapped around their fingers.

This heavy amount of attention did not remain unnoticed by the older man who wordlessly stopped their movements in front of a rather large water fountain, placing one hand on the curves of her corset-bound waist as the other gently cupped her soft blush-adorned cheek, breath hitching slightly when her own settled onto his chest. It was truly a mystery to him how such an angel had landed in his arms and he could not help but to selfishly wonder what life would be like should they be bound by marriage, living the domestic life that people their age were beginning to build - in a house of their own, waking up in the same bed, being able to admire his wife as she slept and perhaps slightly further away from the spotlight.

. . I will always stand by you

Valentine's Day celebrated more than the romantic type of love on the maknae's social media accounts as someone dearly missed by his own fandom finally made an - admittedly short - act of presence online. The song 'Valentino' by 24kGoldn had recently been going viral on TikTok due to Army's apparent desire to see their rapper online once more, but it seemed as though the young woman was ahead of the trend with a video filmed prior to the group leaving the country.

"I don't want a valentine. I just want Valentino"

Himari mouthed the lyrics enthusiastically, highlighted by the fantastic camera work of another member, before pulling on someone's arm when the brand name came up - that mystery person being none other than their ambassador, her older brother. The man in question seemed confused regarding the entire concept of the video, looking towards his little sister who unexpectedly placed a kiss on his cheek before putting fingers atop his head in the shape of cute cat ears - causing the rapper to cross his arms and roll his eyes in clearly fabricated exasperation.

[rickydoodahgrimez]

𝞋𝞎 ─────── 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞

pairing: rick grimes x reader

summary: you and rick grimes have been best friends ever since you were in diapers. after being broken up by your boyfriend; spencer, rick shows you how much you can be loved.

warnings: pet names, teasing, dirty talk, teasing, soft sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (reader receiving), rick being sweet, fluff at the end, hope you enjoy :)

word count: 3.0 k

a/n: apart of my valentine's day special :)) hope you guys like it

“𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈'𝐌 𝐔𝐍𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄.”

The words hung in the night air, fragile and aching, barely above a whisper. You hadn’t meant to say it—not out loud, not to him—but it slipped past your lips before you could stop it.

The weight of them settled between you and Rick like an invisible wall, thick and suffocating. 

You stared down at your hands, twisting them together in your lap, unable to look at him. Maybe if you did, you’d see the confirmation in his eyes—the same realization Spencer had come to when he walked away.

Every guy before him had left, each one finding some excuse, some reason why they couldn’t stay. The world was too dangerous.

You were too much. Too stubborn. Too complicated. And every single time, it chipped away at something inside of you, making you wonder if there was something wrong with you that you just couldn’t see.

Rick didn’t answer right away, and for a moment, you wished you’d kept your mouth shut.

Maybe he was trying to think of a way to let you down easy, to tell you that, yeah, maybe you were unlovable. 

Because if men like Spencer—normal, decent men—couldn’t love you, how could someone like Rick, someone who had carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, possibly have space for you?

Then, finally, he moved.

“You don’t get to say that.”

His voice was low, rough, edged with something sharp. You dared a glance at him, and what you saw made your breath catch.

His jaw was tight, his hands curled into fists on his thighs, but it was his eyes that stole the air from your lungs. Anger simmered there, but not at you. No, this was something else entirely.

“You think because some damn fools didn’t see you—really see you—that it means something about you?” He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “That’s bullshit.”

You blinked at him, thrown by the sudden intensity in his voice. “Rick—”

“No.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed locked on yours, unwavering. “I’ve known you my whole damn life. I’ve seen you at your best, at your worst. I’ve seen you fight, seen you survive, seen you keep goin’ when most people would’ve given up.”

His fingers twitched before he reached for your hand, his touch warm and steady. “And I know you. I know your heart. And I know there ain’t a damn thing unlovable about you.”

Your throat tightened, a lump forming that you weren’t sure you could swallow down. It wasn’t just what he was saying—it was the way he was saying it.

Like it physically hurt him to hear you doubt yourself. Like he’d fight anyone who dared to make you feel this way, even if it was just your own thoughts.

“But they all left,” You whispered, barely able to get the words out. “Every single one.”

Rick’s grip on your hand tightened, grounding. “Then they were fools.”

Your breath hitched, and for the first time that night, the hollow ache inside of you started to ease—because when Rick said something, he meant it.

And if there was one thing you knew with absolute certainty, it was that Rick Grimes never spoke empty words.

You and Rick had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. Some of your earliest memories were of playing in the Georgia sun, your tiny hands clutching his as you ran barefoot through the fields behind his house.

Your families were close, your parents always joking that you and Rick were a package deal. Where he went, you followed, and when you wanted to do something reckless, he was always right there, shaking his head but going along with it anyway.

He was your best friend before you even knew what that meant.

You were there when he scraped his knee riding his bike too fast down the gravel road, and he was there when you broke your arm falling out of the old oak tree in your backyard.

You went to every one of his baseball games, cheering louder than anyone, and when he started liking girls, you were the one who teased him mercilessly.

He did the same to you, side—eyeing every guy who tried to take you on a date, always making sure they knew you weren’t alone.

But then the world ended.

And it was just you two again.

You weren’t kids anymore, but something about surviving the end of the world together made you feel like those reckless kids running barefoot through the grass again.

Only now, it wasn’t scraped knees and bruised elbows—it was blood on your hands and aching bones from days of walking.

Rick had always been protective of you, but after everything, after the fall of the world, that protectiveness hardened into something fierce.

You could see it in the way he positioned himself in front of you during fights, the way his eyes scanned every new place you entered, like he was making sure there was no threat that could take you away from him.

And you weren’t just standing behind him, either. You fought beside him. You had his back the way he had yours, always watching, always ready.

There were nights when you both sat by the fire, Carl's head resting on your shoulder, silent except for the crackling of the flames, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

And then there were the nights when you’d talk about before, about home, about how you used to dream of growing old in that sleepy little town, never knowing that someday, you'd trade white picket fences for bloodstained knives.

But no matter how much the world changed, one thing never did.

You still had him.

And maybe that was the only thing keeping you going.

You let out a humourless laugh, staring down at the splintered wood beneath your feet. “Every guy I’ve been with has left me. Every single one. First before the world went to hell, and now after.” You sucked in a shaky breath. “Spencer was just the latest to figure it out.”

Rick shifted beside you, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists against his thighs. “That what you really think?” He asked, his voice rough, quiet, but carrying the weight of something heavy.

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to look at him. “It’s a pattern, isn’t it?”

“No.” The word came sharp, firm, leaving no room for argument.

You finally turned your head, meeting his gaze. His blue eyes burned in the dim light of the porch lanterns, dark with something intense—something you couldn’t name. “You ever think,” He started, voice lower now, “That maybe the problem ain’t you? Maybe it’s them. Maybe they were too damn blind to see what they had.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I don’t know, Rick. I—”

“Don’t,” He interrupted, shifting closer. His body was warm, solid, grounding. “Don’t do that. Don’t sit here and tell me you’re unlovable when I—” He stopped, jaw tightening, like the words caught in his throat. His hands flexed before he reached for you, his fingers grazing yours, hesitant at first. “You got no idea, do you?”

Your breath hitched at the way his touch lingered, deliberate and gentle despite the roughness of his hands. He was always so careful with you, even after everything you’d both been through, even after the years of blood and loss and heartbreak.

“You don’t get it,” Rick murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, tracing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. “You’ve been one of the best damn thing in my life.” His voice was hoarse now, thick with something unspoken. “Ain’t a single man who’s walked away from you that ever deserved you.”

Your throat tightened, and suddenly, the weight of everything—the pain, the doubt, the loneliness—felt unbearable. “Then why,” You whispered, barely holding yourself together, “Does it feel like I’m never enough?”

Rick let out a rough exhale, like it hurt him to hear you say it. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached up, cupping your cheek, his palm warm and steady against your skin.

You swore he could feel how hard your heart was pounding beneath his touch.

“I don’t know how to make you believe it,” He admitted, voice strained. “But I see you. Always have.” His thumb brushed over your cheekbone, his touch reverent, as if you were something fragile, something precious. “Let me show you,” he murmured. “Let me show you how much you can be loved.”

The way he looked at you then—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—made your breath catch in your throat.

Rick’s thumb traced slow, soothing patterns against your cheek, his breath warm as it fanned across your lips.

His eyes flickered between yours, searching, asking—giving you the chance to pull away, to stop this before it crossed the line.

But you didn’t want to stop.

Your chest rose and fell in time with his, every inch of space between you charged with something you had never dared to name before. His fingers curled under your chin, tilting your face slightly, and then—finally—he leaned in.

His lips brushed against yours, the touch featherlight at first, hesitant. But when you let out a shaky breath and pressed forward, Rick groaned low in his throat, his other hand sliding to the back of your neck as he kissed you fully.

It was slow—deliberate. He wasn’t just kissing you; he was pouring everything into it.

Every unspoken feeling, every stolen glance, every lingering touch over the years.

You sighed into him, parting your lips just enough for him to deepen the kiss, and the moment his tongue brushed against yours, heat curled low in your stomach.

His hand tightened against your waist, pulling you closer, until there wasn’t a breath of space left between you.

By the time he pulled back, you were both breathing hard, foreheads pressed together. Rick’s thumb traced over your swollen lips, his eyes dark, intense. “Tell me you want this.” He rasped, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You swallowed, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I do,” You whispered. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Something in him snapped at that.

Rick stood suddenly, pulling you up with him, his grip firm but careful. His hand slid down your arm, fingers threading through yours as he led you inside.

You followed, heart hammering, pulse thrumming in your ears.

The house was quiet, the only sound the soft creak of the stairs as he guided you up, his grip on your hand never faltering.

When you reached the bedroom, Rick turned to face you, his hands settling at your waist. He studied you, his gaze full of something unreadable—something reverent.

Then, slowly, he reached for the hem of your shirt, his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“This okay?” He murmured.

You nodded, barely able to speak. Rick exhaled softly, pressing another kiss to your lips, slower this time. Deeper.

And as he led you toward the bed, his hands roaming your body with the same care he’d always shown you, you finally understood.

You were never unlovable.

Not to him. Not ever.

He gently cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your soft skin. His touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening sensations you had been trying to suppress.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He murmured as his lips brushed yours again.

You parted your lips, inviting him in, and his kiss was tender yet passionate. His lips moved against yours, exploring and seeking, as if he was trying to convey all his emotions through this simple act.

Rick’s hands slid down your neck, gently caressing your shoulders, making you sigh into his mouth.

The kiss deepened, and you found yourself responding eagerly, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

His tongue danced with yours, a sensual battle of wills, as if both of you were trying to express years of unspoken desire in this one moment.

Breathless, you broke the kiss, your eyes searching his. “Take off my shirt, Rick.”

He didn't hesitate; his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it over your head. His eyes feasted on your exposed body, taking in your delicate curves and the swell of your breasts.

You felt a rush of desire as his gaze travelled over you, making you keenly aware of your own sensuality.

“You’re so beautiful.”

His hands roamed freely, his fingertips tracing the outline of your bra, making you shiver.

He unhooked your bra with nimble fingers, and it slid off your shoulders, revealing your full breasts. His eyes locked onto your erect nipples, and he leaned forward, capturing one between his lips.

You gasped as his tongue swirled around the sensitive peak, his breath hot against your skin.

“Oh, Rick.” You muttered under your breath, your fingers starting to thread through his curls.

He lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and nibbling, his hands kneading and squeezing. His mouth left a trail of kisses down your stomach, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.

“I want to taste you.” Rick murmured, making you lay down on the bed.

You shivered in anticipation as he gently nudged your thighs apart. His hands slid under your hips, lifting you slightly, and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, granting him full access.

Rick’s eyes met yours, a silent question in his gaze, seeking permission for what he was about to do. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, both excited and nervous.

He lowered his head, his warm breath caressing your inner thighs, causing you to squirm with anticipation.

His tongue flicked out, teasingly tracing the sensitive skin just above your underwear line. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your body already on the brink of pleasure.

With slow, deliberate movements, Rick hooked his fingers under the elastic of your underwear and slid them down your legs, his eyes never leaving your face. You stepped out of the garment, now completely exposed to his gaze.

“You’re stunning.” He muttered, eyes glued to your core.

He positioned himself between your thighs, his face mere inches from your core. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and you knew he was as aroused as you were.

Rick’s tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. He moaned softly, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

His tongue was slow and deliberate, painting broad strokes along your slit, gathering your essence.

“You taste so sweet.” He slowly teased circles on your clit with his tongue.

You gripped the sheets, your body tensing as he explored your most intimate folds. His tongue was skilled and relentless, circling your clit, teasing it, before plunging into your wetness.

He lapped at your juices, savouring your taste, his and your moans of pleasure filling the room.

“Oh, God, Rick!”

He responded by increasing the pace, his tongue working feverishly. He added a finger, sliding it into your wetness, curling it to find that sweet spot within.

Your body trembled as he stimulated you both internally and externally, pushing you ever closer to the brink of ecstasy.

“Come for me, baby. Let go.”

His words were the final push you needed. Your orgasm exploded within you, rippling through your body like an electric current. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Rick continued to lap at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your climax, milking every last drop of pleasure. Your body shuddered and convulsed, and you clung to him, riding out the storm of sensations.

Finally, you collapsed back onto the bed, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rick crawled up beside you, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

His lips found yours again, slow and deep, his calloused fingers tracing lazy circles along your bare skin. He hovered over you, his body warm and solid against yours, his hand slipping down to guide himself to you—

The front door swung open with a loud creak.

“Dad, I’m home!”

Panic shot through both of you like a lightning bolt. You and Rick scrambled apart so fast that you nearly fell off the bed. He cursed under his breath, fumbling for his jeans while you scrambled to the floor, your heart hammering.

Carl’s footsteps thudded down the hall just as you finished pulling on your top. Rick, still flushed and slightly out of breath, ran a hand through his messy hair as Carl appeared in the doorway.

The boy glanced between the two of you, brow raising slightly. “Hey.” He said casually, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, Carl.” you replied, your voice an octave higher than normal. You could feel the heat burning your cheeks, and Rick, beside you, looked equally guilty, clearing his throat as he avoided eye contact with his son.

Carl’s gaze lingered for a second too long before he nodded and turned away. “I’ll be in my room.”

As soon as his footsteps faded, you exhaled in unison, both of you collapsing back onto the bed. Rick groaned, rubbing his hands down his face. “Christ.”

You covered your face, laughing into your palms. “That was way too close.”

Rick peeked over at you, his lips twitching. “You think he—?”

“Nope. Don’t wanna think about it.” You rolled onto your side, facing him, and he smirked, finally relaxing. His hand found yours, squeezing gently.

“We’ll finish this later,” He murmured, voice low and full of promise.

You shivered at the way he said it, unable to stop the smile spreading across your lips.

Unknown to you, Carl was smirking the minute he walked away.

idk why but i can kinda see rick doing baseball when he was a child

[ofmdrecaps]

02/13-16/2025 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Con O'Neill; Samson Kayo; Alex Sherman; Guz Khan; Adopt Our Crew: Words of Love; Adopt Our Crew; Articles; Fan Spotlight: OFMD Craft Fair; You wear Fine Frames Well; Our Drag Means Slay; Love Notes

= David Jenkins =

And that's a wrap! The end of the Christmas Special! Thank you so much for reaching David's fic!

Source: David Jenkins bsky

= Rhys Darby =

Z-suite Episode 3 is finally up on Tubi and look who's in it as a complete cretin! Love that Rhys is getting to try out the not-so nice guy roles too! Check it out on Tubi!

New Cryptid Factor out soon!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rhys Darby (@rhysiedarby)

Source: Rhys' IG

Rhys and Button's visit to the Queen Anne Experience, up on Substack paid!

Source: Rhys Paid Substack

= Con O'Neill =

Con was out at The White Lotus S3 premiere!

Source: GettyImages

= Samson Kayo =

Samson's been giving us some fabulous behind the scenes pictures and videos from the set of the new Voltron Series!

Source: Samson's IG

= Alex Sherman =

Our #AssTonight Master Alex Sherman was out at Grand Valley State University teaching students all about filmmaking! He even got the coolest flag put up with his beautiful mug on it!

Source: Alex's IG

= Guz Khan =

Guz has been busy on Series 12 of Taskmaster!

And his 5th kiddo was born!

Source: Guz Khan's IG

== Adopt Our Crew: Words Of Love ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew finished up their words of love for Valentine's Day! Thank you again luvs for the info!

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

== Adopt Our Crew ==

The polite menaces that they are, our fan crew @adoptourcrew also named a cockroach at the San Antonio Zoo after David Zaslav (WB CEO). Love the massive... or passive aggression, and doing good while you're at it! Love it!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Bsky

== Articles ==

And Speaking of @adoptourcrew who've been very busy the last week, they've also been keeping up on articles mentioning our show!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's bsky

Source: Adopt Our Crew Bsky

== Fan Spotlight ==

= OFMD Craft Fair Auctions =

It's that time! so many of our incredible crafty crewmates have put up Queer and OFMD related items up for auction to benefit Campaign for Southern Equality to help out our trans sibs! Bidding is now open! www.32auctions.com/ofmdcraftfai..

Source: @ghostalservice's Bsky

== You Wear Fine Frames Well ==

MORE EXCITING NEWS! The wonderful Ram and @tsutsuya worked very hard with so many brilliant and talented crew members to make this beautiful animation happen! Please check out the animation here! and if you'd like to see the individual frames you can here!

Source: YouWearFineFramesWell

= Our Drag Means Slay =

Guess who's back!? It's Our Drag Means Slay! The next Casting Call is up for the show in Chicago on 4/12! Performer applications are due March 7th! Please visit their linktr.ee and follow them on their socials to sign up and for more information!

Source: Our Drag Means Slay IG

= Nes & The Tiny Co-Captains =

It's been a bit since we've had some chibis from our wonderful crewmate Nes so please take a moment to appreciate these adorable little Ed and Stede's! Bsky / IG / Tumblr Nes' Linktr.ee

Source: Nes' Bluesky

Source: Nes' Bluesky

== Love Notes ==

Hey there lovelies. I was able to finally get this up! Only a couple days behind now. I'd really like to go back to the 2 day recaps because there's been so much more going on lately and it's hard to fit in one tumblr post for any more than 2 days at a time! I hope you all got a chance to read Chaos Dad's OFMD Fic. I've already seen so much fan art and fics built off of it-- which is so uplifting in my opinion. I know there's been questions on whether this is canon, whether it's what we'll see when we get an s3, and I think the answer right now is we just don't know. It feels very much like a gift to keep us engaged, and spread a little joy and love in the fandom, which we can always use. So don't fret either way okay-- just try to enjoy the ride if you can :). I have to say, like so many others, my favorite quote was: "Your Fight is My Fight, your Family is My Family."

I really hope all of you know that's exactly how I and so many of your crewmates feel about you too. I know times are uncertain right now and we're all struggling to get through. But this IS all of our fights, and you all are our family. So please lean on each other if you can.

You got this lovelies, Happy Tuesday. <3

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A post shared by @thelatestkate

[solxamber]

Riddle, Romantic, “Chai Tea” by audrey ( here’s a link if you need it: https://youtu.be/eGMQ82ujZtQ?si=niFp-AZx61FTnUb1 )

valentine’s day is a top tier holiday because it guarantees the cutest fics <3

real!! i really do enjoy the valentine's season

"With you, it's easy" || Riddle Rosehearts

𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠: Chai Tea by audrey

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 670

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: Pre-relationship, mutual pining, fluff

The soft clink of porcelain echoed in the quiet café, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the comforting scent of cardamom. You sat across from Riddle Rosehearts, your hands wrapped around a steaming cup of chai. Outside, autumn leaves danced lazily across the cobblestone paths, but inside, everything felt still—like the world had paused just for the two of you.

You were mid-sentence, rambling about a song you’d heard earlier in the day. "I think you'd like it," you said, taking a sip of your tea. "It’s got this really soft piano bit that reminds me of the rain."

Riddle watched you with quiet focus, his crimson eyes softer than usual. He wasn’t particularly interested in the song—music had never been his strong suit—but the way your eyes lit up, the small curve of your lips as you spoke, was a melody all on its own.

Why does it feel like this? he wondered, fingers curling gently around his own cup. Every moment with you was calming yet exhilarating, like standing on the edge of something unfamiliar but wonderful. He wasn’t used to this kind of comfort. Rules had always been his foundation, structure his shield. But with you, there was no need for defenses.

"You’re not even listening, are you?" You teased, your voice cutting through his thoughts. The playful accusation was paired with a smile, and it made his stomach flutter.

He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. "I am listening," he replied, more defensive than he intended. His gaze dropped to the swirl of tea in his cup. "I just… don’t have much to add. But I like hearing you talk."

Your cheeks warmed at the rare vulnerability in his voice. He likes hearing me talk? The thought made your heart beat just a little faster. You reached across the table, lightly brushing your fingers against his hand. "I’m glad you’re here, Riddle."

His breath caught. No one had ever said that to him so simply, so earnestly. His fingers twitched under yours before he let them rest, allowing the contact without pulling away. "I… am glad too."

Later that evening, Riddle found himself thinking about the way your hand had felt against his—warm, gentle, grounding. It wasn’t grand or dramatic; it was simple, like the warmth of tea on a cold day. And maybe that’s what terrified him the most. Not the intensity of his feelings, but the ease of them.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop replaying every detail of his expression. The faint pink dusting his cheeks, the way his gaze softened when you touched him. Does he feel the same? You tried to silence the hope growing in your chest, convincing yourself that Riddle was just being kind. After all, emotions were hard for him, and you didn’t want to read too much into every little gesture.

A week later, you found yourselves back at the same café. This time, Riddle spoke more. He asked about your day, listened intently as you shared small, inconsequential details. In return, you asked him about his studies, about Heartslabyul, about things that made him light up with passion and pride.

The conversation flowed like the tea between you—effortless, warm, soothing.

And then, as you both reached for the sugar jar at the same time, your fingers brushed again. This time, Riddle didn’t pull away. His hand lingered atop yours for a second longer than necessary.

"You’re important to me," he said suddenly, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat. The vulnerability in his eyes was unguarded, raw. "You’re important to me too, Riddle," you replied, just as softly.

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward; it was full of understanding, like a shared secret spoken without words.

In that moment, surrounded by the scent of chai and the rustle of autumn wind outside, both of you realized that maybe this quiet companionship had always been love in disguise.

Masterlist ; Valentine's Event

[mothgutz236]

Happy (belated) Valentines Day @midnight-mourning !!

Surprise! I was your secret Valentine! Sorry for the lateness, I am terribly good at procrastination but here it is at last! Your writing is always a delight to read so I hope this one-shot gives a similar feeling! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,744

Working in the Superstar Daycare definitely has its perks. Learning all types of gossip from the kiddos, from divorces to which little kid had a crush on who; this job was full of, mostly positive, emotional rollercoasters. Another perk is working with both Daycare Attendants, which definitely got you a few odd looks and a couple light-hearted, teasing words from co-workers. Both Sun and Moon were just.. so nice to be around. Sure, their appearance and inhuman mannerisms took a bit of getting used to but being there for six months can make you pretty damn used to these twos’, in your own words, “cute quirks.” 

The day started out like normal, kids dragging you every which way to play their games if Sun was preoccupied, coloring, “eating” the pretend food the kids happily served you, and other things that make you almost feel like a kid again by proxy. It started soon after naptime, Moon and you had your usual conversation of him complaining about the new hires for daycare security and you complaining about a few irritating coworkers of your own. Sun had just gathered most of the kids, with you leaning casually on the front of the security desk at Sun’s insistence that he’s “more than capable of wrangling a few children.” 

A tiny hand gently tugs at your pant leg, your eyes drifting down from Sun to see a kid with a bright purple Bonnie hoodie, you were 90% sure that her name is Casey. Casey speaks, her voice a bit shy, “Um.. Mx. Star? Could.. Could you play Save the Princess with us?” 

You smile a bit at the nickname the kids had collectively decided to give you to match Sun and Moon, before nodding your head, “Sure, lemme guess; You’re in need of a princess to be in peril?”

Little Casey shakes her head, “No, we already have a princess; we just need a knight.”

You raise a brow slightly; normally the kids asked you to be the damsel in distress, now someone else is in fictional peril. You simply hum, quietly wondering who the princess is, “Oh, Alright. Who’s playing the princess this time?”

Casey grins like the cat who got the canary, “Mr. Sun.”

You let out a small snort, quickly stifling your small fit of giggles with the palm of your hand. It wasn’t the idea of Sun wearing the little plastic tiara that the princess had to wear, according to the kids, even if that is a hilarious visual. No, you’re giggling because you know damn well Sun’s going to turn the drama up to eleven. Being a former theatre bot, Sun loved to perform, so this was the perfect opportunity for him to stretch his acting legs and play the perfect damsel in the most distress. 

Casey took two of your fingers in her little hand and guided you to where the scene was laid out. A former cardboard box turned faux tower set piece, fake leaves hot glued to its colored brick work. That little tower was a mini project for the kiddos a few weeks back and now they’re near constantly asking to play Save the Princess, which you and Sun happily oblige to. 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling like a maniac when you finally spotted Sun. Sun wasn’t just wearing the little tiara, no, the kids went the whole nine yards; a frilly pink tutu, crayon lipstick, and from the looks of it, as many bracelets as the kids could find were decorating both of Sun’s wrists with his golden bells poking out from the miniature hoard of beads and colored plastic. 

Sun’s eyes turn from the group of kids to you, blank optics meeting your eyes before he makes a sound like clearing his throat, “Friend! Hello! U- Uh.. I heard you’re going to be my knight in shining denim?”

You snort, glancing down to your baggy jeans for a moment before meeting Sun’s optics once again, tone light and ever so slightly teasing, “Indeed I am, and I must say, You make one pretty damsel here Sunny~” After you said that, you swore his cooling system kick up a notch, already going from embarrassment you’d assumed. You don’t get a response from Sun or the chance to dwell on Sun’s quickening cooling system when a small foam sword and an even smaller, round plastic shield are both shoved into your arms, kids giggling all around you. 

A couple smaller pairs of hands give you an encouraging shove towards the tower as Sun settles behind it, only his crayon marked face being able to poke out from the little tower window which makes you swallow down another giggle. A kid wearing a Monty hoodie with the hood up, Gavin you were pretty sure was his name, mustering up the best roar he can. You mentally bust out your acting chops, letting out a dramatic gasp and taking a half step back out of sheer acted horror. You make your voice quiver as you ready your sword and shield, adding to the drama, “M- My! What a t- terrible beast! But I must be brave; For Princess Sunny!”

Little Gavin lets out another rawr, and speaks in the deepest voice he can manage, “You must go through me if you want to get to the princess! Rawr!”

Sun decides to jump in on our dialog, putting on the most dramatic falsetto you’ve heard in a while, “Oh brave knight!~ Slay this beast and save mee~” 

A “fight” ensues, turning up the dramatics to eleven in your own way. Your swings are extremely light, but your exaggerated body movements give the impression that the swing takes a grand amount of effort. A few minutes later, once the grand battle between you and the dragon concluded, you come out victorious; your head held high as you carefully step around the “corpse” of the dragon to step behind the tower of cardboard to collect your sunny princess. 

You hum softly, extending your hand to Sun, grin wide and borderline cheeky as you keep your tone overly formal, “M’lady~ May I help you up?”

Sun huffs, a touch of a laugh in his snark, “Oh, how gracious~ of you my knight.” Sun takes your hand and you help him back to his feet from the kneel. 

All of a sudden several little voices whine in complaint.

“Noo! You gotta do the princess carry!”

“Yeah! Do the princes carry!”

“You gotta give Mr. Sun the full princess experience Mx. Star!”

“Yeah! Full princess experience! Pleasee!”

A small wash of warmth runs up your neck and over your cheeks. Normally, when you were the damsel and “rescued,” Sun would carry you in the bridal style that the kids have dubbed “the princess carry” and parade you around the daycare a bit; which never failed to make you blush. Now the kids were practically begging for you to do it to Sun. 

You glance over to Sun, reaching a hand up to rub the back of your neck, voice clearly hesitant and low so the kids wouldn’t hear, “Well.. I mean.. I’m not opposed to the idea if you aren’t.” Sun meets your gaze and you're quite sure his internal cooling system is practically on full blast right now. 

Sun huffs again, steam minorly puffing out of his joints as he rolls his near non-existent pupils and changes his stance to something cross armed and brimming with sass, “I mean, you sure you can?” Sun leans close, intending to fluster surely but with the crayon make-up, it makes it hard to take him too seriously before he continues, “I mean, you’re rather.. small, sunshine~”

You let out a huff of your own, incredulous for a moment before grinning mischievously and leaning closer to Sun, “Is that a challenge Sunny~?” 

Sun’s milky white eyes widened, another small puff of steam left his joints, all sass quickly dropping as he sounded a touch panicked, “No No not a challen-!” His voice box grinds to a halt as you, with some effort, sweep him off his feet, literally. Moving all of those heavy-ass storage boxes from your old job meant you had put on some decent strength, so lifting up Sun only caused some minor strain that quickly faded as you held him. He was surprisingly light, being made of metal and having all of those wires and circuits, you’d thought he would be extra heavy. You guess him and Moon were made of a lighter metal alloy than the glamrocks so they could use the aerial wire without the potential risk of it snapping. Sun was warm against you, several puffs of steam leaving his joints as he froze, his blank optics gazing down at his feet.

You couldn’t help but be a bit smug, both lifting Sun and managing to fluster him back after all of the times he did it to you made your ego bump up a notch or two and a giddy feeling softly bubbled in your chest. Your voice carries this minorly smug energy as you tilt your head into Sun’s field of vision, trying to coax him to meet your eyes, “What was that about me being small~?”

Sun sputters, turning his gaze sharply away from yours as his internal cooling system continues to whirr loudly, some more steam puffing from his joints. You found it too cute that he sounds like an overheating computer right now, purely because you scooped him up into your arms. Sun grumbled something too garbled to make out in full but you were pretty sure he used the words “Dumb, hot security officer,” which only made your grin wider. You were half tempted to tease him, fluster him further, ask him to repeat himself, but there were children around so you skipped over that and went back to playful teasing.

You hummed, leaning forward slightly like you were going to set him down, “Well~ If you really don’t like the princess treatment, I can put you dow-” You choked a bit on your words as Sun threw his arms around your neck, keeping himself close to you.

Sun lets out a soft, minorly strangled noise of embarrassment, likely at his quick reaction to throw himself at you, before dramatically clearing his throat and putting the falsetto back on, “If you put me down, I will have you beheaded for mishandling your princess! Now, you must bring me back to my castle! Quickly now!” 

You let out a soft snort at Sun’s continued dramatics, but quickly obliged; straightening your posture, securing your hold on him and starting to carefully walk in the general direction of the security desk. The security desk has been the main “castle” the last few times you had been the damsel, the place where Sun put you once he was done parading you around the daycare.

Since Sun was forbidden to go behind the security desk by his protocols, you wouldn't be able to walk around to sit him down in a chair behind the desk, instead, you walked to the small wall that concealed the security desk from most of the daycare. You shifted your hold on Sun for a moment as you set him on top of the wall, your hands ending up on either side of his legs. You grinned up at him, his faceplate doused in minor shadow, allowing you to see the thin, white circles of his optics; the glowing shapes flitting between your face and the wall, Sun’s face still turned to the side, and cooling system still going at top speed. 

Sun makes a soft “tch” sound, his optics finally resting on you as he lifts his pointer finger to your forehead and lightly pushing you away, mumbling a soft “Meanie” which makes you chuckle a bit. You simply hum and step back, allowing Sun to hop down from the desk, him glancing at you before clapping his hands to gain the children’s attention for a different game, still glammed up. You take this as your cue to slip behind the desk once again, knowing that there are definitely some emails demanding your attention.

The rest of the day is relatively uneventful, a tantrum, an annoyed parent at pick up and the day is over, leaving you and Sun mostly alone, besides Moon of course. You were mid-email when the familiar jingle of bells pulled your attention up. Sun was looming over you a bit, casting his face in shadow and allowing you to see his optics for the second time today. 

Sun’s silent for a moment before adjusting his lean to be more casual as he speaks, “Sunshine? Would you be a dear and uh.. Help me clean up the crayon on my face?” 

You let out a soft huff and a small chuckle, the sounds melding into one before you spoke, already nodding your head at Sun’s ask, “Of course Sunny, go grab a chair or something and I’ll grab the wipes.”

You stand from the chair behind the security desk as you watch Sun bound over to the kiddie tables, grabbing a small chair to sit in as you reach over and pluck the disinfectant wipes you keep off your desk. You make your way over to an awaiting Sun, who was sitting in a small kiddie chair with his knees to his chest as he messed with the ribbons around one of his wrists. You reach Sun, getting in close as he pulls his hands close to his chassis to keep them out of the way before you pull out a couple wipes from the container. You slot the container between your legs to keep it close before you start carefully rubbing away at the waxy art supply on Sun’s face, carefully holding the bottom of his faceplate to keep it still. 

A comfortable silence falls over you both, the only sounds being hard are the jaunty daycare theme and Sun’s cooling system softly whirring as you clean his face, carefully removing the crayon from the various crevices in his placid smile. All of a sudden, you felt a gentle weight on your hips. You glance down and see Sun’s hands carefully resting there so casually you’d think he was doing it daily. A small wave of warmth rolls up your neck to your cheeks but you try and play it off, looking back at Sun's face to keep gently scrubbing at the stubborn crayon, trying to keep your expression neutral while your stomach is full of butterflies.

Time seems to drag on as you are overly aware of every minute movement of Sun’s hands, a small twitch of his finger, his thumb softly rubbing circles into the flesh of your hip for a moment before stopping, gentle squeezes that feel all too purposeful. Every. Little. Movement. And it was driving you up the wall to say the least. You can barely focus on wiping down Sun’s face, your own cheeks burning hot with blush from Sun’s touches. After a squeeze that seems a little too purposeful, you decide that you cannot stay quiet for any longer. 

You take a breath and make your voice as firm as you can manage, which isn’t much considering your current state of fluster, “Sun.”

Sun hums, giving your hips another soft squeeze, his voice dripping with teasing “Sunshine~”

Your voice is a flustered growl as your breathing hitches for a moment, “Sun.”

Sun tugs you ever so slightly closer by your hips, letting him rest the bottom of his faceplate pretty much on your collarbone, “Sunflower~!”

You groan again, face getting even hotter from the closeness as you grumble out a flustered complaint, “You’re insufferable..”

Sun hums once again, tone just a little smug, “Oh but you must suffer me all the same Sunflower~ That is part of your job description, no?”

You sighed, grumbling some more as you rested your forehead against Sun’s faceplate, the smallest hint of a smile quirking up the corners of your lips, “I hate you..” 

Sun presses his smile to your chin, letting out a soft chuckle, “Sure you do~” You huff, pressing a small kiss to the curve of his nose, a small smile shaping your lips. Working in the Superstar Daycare has many benefits but a few are exclusive to you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[saradika]

💌

Thank you so much for creating something special for Valentine’s Day! I spent my day with my pups! Mr. Csboz is coming home tonight and we are celebrating tomorrow 🥰 I hope you had a wonderful Valentine’s Day with your loved ones! Could I please request Clements?

ahh you are so sweet my friend and day with your cutie pups sounds so perfect!!( and so glad the mister was home to celebrate over the weekend! 💖) and omg yes my first clements piece, I hope I did him justice for you!

It’s not the night you expected, but you understand. Both of you happy just have you on his arm at the gala - longing in the way his eyes linger so often on yours.

In the way he holds you, fingers stroking against slips of bare skin, in the stolen dances between business conversations.

And when he steals you away to the coatroom - your pretty dress rucked up, the music muted as he sinks to his knees -

You know this - this - is just for you.

[valentines moodboards 💌 - closed]

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Midnight Temptation

My Bloody Valentine

Part I

You learn a little more about the handsome stranger but not everything is as it seems. Still aloof and secretive but there's just something about him that has captivated you.

18+ Only! MDNI

CW: Slow Burn. Dark and mature themes. Vampire!Steve. Reader is pushed and attacked. Harsh language. Mention of blood and abrasions. Let me know if I missed anything!

WC: 4.7K

Steve… Steve… Steve…

Those eyes. You couldn’t forget those pools of molten amber that bore into yours as if he could see into your very soul.

The tall, dark and handsome stranger edged past the corner of your dream land that very night, catching a glimpse of him in your peripheral, out of place but not unwelcome. Hidden in the shadows, just as he had in the alleyway, watching and waiting. Each time you turn your face to gain a better look, he disappears, always just out of reach.

You awoke the next day with his name on your lips, a breathy whisper before you opened your bleary eyes and adjusted to the early afternoon light.

You sit up with a groan, the bedside table reading 1:16 pm. A little more sleep would have been ideal, but you took whatever you could get. Most days sleeping past noon was a miracle.

It would be another late shift, and you wondered if he might drop by, but you shook the thought from your mind just as quickly as it was there.

“No! Nope… not doing this.” You said to yourself, getting up from bed to get yourself ready. Just some dude. Just some handsome dude… with pretty eyes…

You had to mentally scold yourself once again before getting into the shower.

-

He didn’t show up that night.

Every time the door swung open, you found your gaze drifting in that direction, hoping he would walk back through and greet you with that broody yet enticing exterior but then as days stretched into a few weeks, you began to wonder if he’d been entirely a figment of your imagination. You felt foolish. It was one small encounter, yet it seemed to mean so much more. Why him? It felt as though in some way he had bewitched you.

Get a grip. He's just some guy… Some handsome, charming, mysterious guy… with a really nice ass. No. No. No. You cut yourself off, going back to check on your tables, making you momentarily forget about Steve, focusing on refilling drinks and taking greasy food orders.

He slipped in as your back was turned, talking to the bartender about some rude ass customer that you had just told off.

“I swear to God, if I see that douche in here again. It's the third time he's hit on me… some assholes just can't take the hint.” You huffed, as Jerry smirked and handed you two mugs of beer.

“Some dicks are like that, I'll make sure the bouncer keeps an eye out for him next time.” the man replies, his head snapping toward the back booth. “Shit, talk about guys that give off creeper vibes.”

Time seemed to slow as those eyes met yours. Those dark orbs flecked with amber shards that you dreamt about. He nodded, taking out a pack of smokes reaching for the ashtray in the middle of the table.

“He gives you the creeps?” You ask incredulously, reluctantly tearing your gaze away to look back at Jerry with a pinch of your brow.

“He's… odd. Been coming in here off and on for a few years. Never orders anything, smokes a couple and then he's gone.” He replies, while wiping down a few glasses.

You look back to Steve and regard him for a moment, his intense stare never leaving you as a cloud of smoke curls upward from his lips upon a heavy exhale, his features momentarily obscured by the cloud of nicotine.

“I dunno Jer, he's got that whole mysterious thing going on but maybe he just enjoys the atmosphere.” You smirk with a snicker, loading the beer onto your tray.

“Ha! In this shithole? That'll be the day.” He laughs, shaking his head and starts to work on some other orders.

Balancing the tray, you take a deep breath and head out onto the floor, navigating the small crowd and dropping off the round of beers, before heading over to where Steve sat.

His cigarette was now smoldering in the ashtray, his hands laced together and sitting on the tabletop as you approached, taking a deep breath to calm your sudden nervousness.

He’s just some guy. You begin to repeat, stepping in front of him.

“Hi stranger.” You greet him with a warm smile. “What’ll it be?”

He returns your smile, with a soft, lopsided one. Cute, you thought.

“Uh, nothing for me, thanks. Just enjoying this cancer stick before I head out.” He replies smoothly, pulling the cigarette back to his lips.

“Head out?” You asked, with an air of disappointment. “But you just got here– Well, I mean…” Your cheeks heat with the sudden slip up as his small grin grows wider, tongue darting out to lick his lips before he spoke once more.

“Keeping tabs on me, are we?” He smirked, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

“What? No.” You scoff. “In case you didn’t know, it’s my job to notice when customers walk in.”

“And talking to your co-worker about me?” He lifted a knowing brow.

“How did you–” Trailing off and looking back to where you had been standing with Jerry, all the way at the other end of the building, at least twenty feet away. How could he have heard that?

“Creeper vibes?” He asks, as your head snaps back to him.

“Hey, I didn’t say that… That was all Jerry.” You defend, placing a hand to your hip.

“I’m only teasing. I am well aware of my mysterious vibes.” He says with a chuckle, letting your tension melt away as his reassurance and light teasing puts you at ease.

“Well, I should at least apologi–”

“No need.” Dismissing the notion with a small wave before taking another cigarette to light.

“Let me buy you a beer?” You ask, voice low and sweet, hoping he would accept. For some reason, you were unwilling to let the conversation end so quickly.

“Don’t drink but thank you. Really.” He replies, lips wrapping around the filter as he takes a drag. His pink, pouty, perfect lips. That you were most definitely, unabashedly staring at.

He wears a knowing grin. “Buy me a pack of smokes. We’ll call it even, yeah?”

“Right.” You clear your throat, backing away. “Yeah! Of course.”

He chuckles to himself, watching as you turn and hurriedly make your way over to the bar.

A while later, you took your break running into the convenience store a few storefronts down to buy him that pack of cigarettes but by the time you made it back he was already gone.

“What the fuck?” You hiss, looking around at seeing his empty seat but this time there was a napkin left behind. A simple promise scrawled in fairly neat handwriting.

Sorry, had to dash. Save it for next time. – Steve

You smiled to yourself, pocketing the pack into your apron before making your next rounds.

_

It would only be a few days until your next encounter, passing him the small white pack with a smile. From that day forward, you began to see him every few days, learning a little more about him each time.

That aloof and mysterious facade quickly started to slip away, revealing a mild mannered, albeit a little broody sweetheart. There was still an air of secrecy around him, which you found all the more appealing adding to his already charming demeanor. Being devastatingly handsome was just an added bonus.

Sometimes he spoke like a true old soul with a friendly piece of advice or a few words of wisdom slipping out with ease in the middle of a conversation.

He never drank, didn't even ask for water, just smoked a couple of cigs in his corner keeping to himself. You'd seen a couple of women and men approach him but he always politely turned them down.

You learned he lived close by and liked to get out and stretch his legs, eventually finding his way down to the bar district each night.

When it came to what he did for a living, he kept it very simple yet vague, only stating that he did the occasional odd job. Whatever the odd job may be, it must have paid well considering the clothing he sported was stylish and always well put together, including his TAG Heuer watch. He looked much too expensive for a grungy, dimly lit place like this. It was a wonder he hadn’t been mugged yet.

He was a night owl, yet so were you, keeping you company most evenings and going out to the alley to join you for your breaks.

“So, where are you from originally?” You finally asked, trying to gain some sense of better understanding of the man before you, eyes shifting over to him expectantly.

“A small town, not too far from here.” He replied, looking toward the ground as he leaned against the wall next to you, knocking the ashes from his half smoked cigarette. Yet another vague response to something that should be easy.

“Why do you always do that?” You huffed a little, shifting on your makeshift stool, putting your hands inside your coat pockets, glaring up at him.

“Do what?” He asked flatly, feigning ignorance to his obvious aloofness.

“I ask a question, and you give a half-assed answer. You do it all the time.”

“Sometimes the answer, it’s… complicated.” Answering thoughtfully, with a sigh, a hand running through his perfectly quaffed hair, not meeting your gaze.

“Complicated? That’s as basic as it gets, I would hate to see you try to come up with something for more intricate questions.” You scoff and stand, taking a few steps toward the building.

He heaves another heavy sigh, dropping the butt and crushing it under his boot, watching as you stop and look back at him.

“Look, if you don’t want to tell me, it’s fine. You’ve obviously got some sort of walls built up to keep people out, so I won’t pry.”

He didn’t expect that, meeting your gaze with soft, tired eyes. There was a small, poignant pause between you, as if this would define a small turning point and for whatever reason, he didn't quite understand he let the truth slip free.

“Hawkins.” He quietly said. “About two hours from here, or at least it used to be.”

“No shit?” You asked, bewildered.

A natural gas explosion from an extensive underground cave system had decimated the sleepy town. Everyone in Indiana knew about the events that reeked of a government cover up and had conspiracy theorists coming out of the woodwork. Luckily, most of the residents had already been evacuated, so most of the damage was isolated to the land and structures. You’d remembered reading about it in some of your history classes.

“Wow, that was in ‘88 or ‘89… wait… how old are you exactly?” Your brows pinched with confusion as you mentally calculated the time frame.

“Yeah, the end of ‘89. And I'm… older than I look.” He shrugged, biting his lip, trying to gauge your expression.

“So… you're fucking with me?” You nod, face falling a bit, crossing your arms over your chest. “You know, it would've been easier just to say literally any BFE town in Indiana, or hell the world. It's not like I'm going to go snoop into your history, Steve.”

His lips part but you hold up a hand, silencing him.

“Nope. I get it. Keep your secrets.” You quickly spin away and leave him standing there crestfallen and a little stunned. It suddenly occurred to you that he wasn't taking anything seriously, so neither should you. It stung a little, but at least you knew where he stood or rather didn't stand.

-

Steve knew he was getting in too deep.

It had been years since he had any sort of meaningful connection with someone, finding himself craving your company. He knew better yet found himself sitting at his usual booth again and again.

He still didn't understand it. No one has ever smelled as divine as you do and he imagined no one ever would. It was maddening, but the more time he spent in your presence he was able to control his impulses, keeping those beastly urges at bay.

Those first few weeks were pure agony. He left the alley in search of a quick meal, finding it a couple of blocks down in a dimly lit parking garage. It warmed his throat but tasted like ash on his tongue, doing little to quench his bloodlust, his mind drifting back to you. To have you so close, yet letting you slip right through his fingers seemed such a waste.

After he'd finished, letting the chap go on his merry way, he wandered back toward that same alley finding it vacant, but your powerful scent lingered. He stayed close by until you were finished with your shift.

Around 2 am, you finally found your way going toward home with Steve close behind. For a moment, it crossed his mind to drag you into the nearest dark corner and feed, but he pushed that thought away. You were something special, that much was obvious, he had to control himself if he wanted to get closer to you.

He silently followed you every night, staying undetected and keeping to the shadows, until his fangs no longer had a mind of their own every time he caught a whiff of your sweet essence. In all these years, he had never felt the need to do so with anyone but the overwhelming urge to have you, to claim you in every way began to slowly overtake his brain. In his mind, you were already his.

Talking about Hawkins brought up a lot of memories he would have much rather forgotten but he didn't think about the logistics, his mouth working faster than his mind when it slipped out.

The look on your face had made his heart ache. An immediate lump formed in his throat at your mere mention of being anything but truthful, suddenly wishing he had lied instead. The real truth of the matter, the town being overrun with creatures from the Upside Down would have been too much for someone to understand.

Of course, it didn't help that he was forever stuck in this twenty-year-old form, now at fifty-seven. Even if he had actually been born closer to the downfall of Hawkins, it would have been a stretch to believe.

The government did come in to cover it up, as far as he knows, they're still covering it up. No one is allowed in. The secure barrier that they created is heavily monitored by the military but somewhere deep in his bones he can still feel it. The influence, the pull that ties him to all manner of creature and beings still beyond his manner of understanding.

He supposed that's why he hadn't managed to go further than Indianapolis. Something tethered him to the Upside Down, a bond that would probably never be severed.

Fall faded as winter quickly approached and the temperatures began to nosedive. There was early snow at the end of November that had turned into a grey frozen sludge on many of the sidewalks making it a literal icy hell. You lost count of how many times you had slipped and fallen already.

Christmas Eve was no different. You made the hazardous trek in but it was still business as usual once you had arrived. The glow of the neon and promise of cheap beer was just too much for some people to ignore, most patrons seemingly unfazed by the wintery tundra just outside the door, self-preservation be damned.

On holidays the bars were usually filled with the lonely and broken, people with no other place to go so they filled their time with a buzz and familiar conversation. No family. No friends. You seemed to fit right in.

Steve hadn’t come back around, and you admittedly missed his presence. His booth remained empty, and it left you feeling a little remorseful at the last conversation. Maybe you were too harsh and quick to judge but then again, why did he lie about the most mundane question.

In those few short weeks, he’d become a staple. Even Jerry had commented that he hadn’t seen the “creeper” in a while. Though “creeper” seemed to now be a more affectionate term, as he saw the way Steve had looked at you, though he kept his commentary to himself after you had seemed so heartbroken the last time he had been here.

The longer the night pressed on, the flow of customers only began to trickle. Midnight left you and Jerry alone with one of the regulars, Jimmy. An older man whose wife died a few years back, so he drowned his sorrows when he could.

You were sitting at the bar, counting your tips when Jerry spoke up.

“Want to go home early? I don’t think anyone else is going to come in tonight. If they do, I can manage.” He says, nonchalantly, wiping down the bar.

“Not like I have anywhere else to be Jer.” Responding nonchalantly. “But if you're trying to run me off I won't object.” Your fingers drift to the back of your apron, untying it and hopping off the stool.

You slipped into the restroom to empty your bladder for the walk home, as if by habit your eyes drifting to that empty booth upon exiting. There was a small red gift bag sitting there.

Looking around, the place was just as you had left it. Jimmy was nursing his drink at the bar and Jerry had his back to you, cleaning up the bottles in the back. You wipe your damp hands down the front of your jeans and begin to make your way over.

Upon further examination the small tag indeed has your name scrawled across it, making your heart leap a little in your chest. You pull the matching red tissue paper up to reveal a small note tucked into the side.

Please accept this small token as gratitude for your time and listening ear.

Merry Christmas, Steve.

You look around again. How had he slipped in and out so quickly?

A black velvet box lay in the bottom of the bag. Your fingers hesitantly wrap around the smooth exterior, before opening it to reveal a diamond tennis bracelet. It sparkled back at you in the neon and low lights. It was breathtaking and assuredly cost more than what you made in a month's time.

You trace the edges in awe, so enraptured that you hadn't heard the footsteps behind you.

“What's that?” Jerry's voice pulls you back to reality.

“Uh, nothing.” You quickly recover, snapping the box closed and shoving it back into the bag awkwardly.

“That didn't look like nothing.” He prodded with a small grin.

“Bye Jerry.” You squeeze past him to head out for the night, with the bag clutched tight to your chest.

“Sure Y/N, have a good night.” He chuckled as you made toward the back.

Later that night you examined the bracelet with a big dopey smile plastered to your face. No one had ever given you something so lavish. Too lavish that wearing it out to work seemed out of place but it was too beautiful not to show off. Jerry never said anything, but he always gave you a knowing smile when he saw the jewelry on your wrist.

-

You hadn't even been able to thank him properly for the bracelet. Steve’s note had been short, not surprising the way you two had left things but you continued wondering if you would see him again or if he would forever keep his distance. It would be weeks before you would finally see him again.

The day before Valentine’s.

A made-up holiday for big corporations to profit off of lovesick saps. Being single for so long had turned you a bit cynical toward love, not that you had meant for it to happen, but you had grown accustomed to the idea of being alone.

The bar was having a big event the next day, so it already looked like cupid had thrown up around the room. Streamers, paper hearts and heart shaped balloons decorated the space.

Jerry chuckled as you grumbled about your shift, thankful you would be off the actual day of, happy not to have to wait on cheery couples or the occasional depressed loner.

Steve’s booth remained relatively empty as if it was always waiting for his return, until tonight. You watched as two men strolled in like they owned the place and quickly took up residence in the back.

“What can I get you two gentlemen?” Asking as you walked up to his booth. A silly notion that he should have such a claim over it. He didn’t own it; hell he never even bought a drink.

“Hi sweet cheeks.” The one to the left of you hummed, tongue licking across his lower lip as his eyes drifted down your legs, even going as far as shifting in his seat to gain a better look. It made your skin crawl. He was pushing every bit of fifty, pudge hanging over his pants and balding.

You had your fair share of sleazeballs, but these two were the big door prize.

“Pitcher of Bud Light,” The younger one spoke up, eyes settling unabashedly on your cleavage. He could have been the other’s son but still had all of his sandy blonde hair. Something in the way he stared at you made your hairs stand on end. It was unsettling the way his eyes lingered, looking you up and down like you were his next meal.

“And sweet cheeks, how about some shots of Jack to go with that.” The older one grinned. “My boy just got home today and we’re celebrating.”

“Coming right up,” you responded cheerfully, dropping your forced smile as soon as you turned away. It was bound to be a long night, and these two were only going to make it worse.

A little while later, you brought their drinks over, careful not to lean too far over the table to give them the wrong idea.

“Here we go. One pitcher of Bud Light, two glasses and two shots of Jack.” You smiled, friendly enough, setting everything out between them. “Anything else for you right now?”

“How about you do a shot with us, huh?” The younger man leaned slightly forward sporting a sardonic grin.

“Sorry, don’t drink on the clock but let me know if I can get you anything else.” You nod and turn to head back out onto the floor.

“Woah, hey, don't leave yet.” He grabs your wrist, halting your movement, causing you to spin back around with an icy glare. He chuckles, but lets you go, holding his hands up in defense but his eyes drift to the bracelet around your wrist.

“Don’t touch me again.” You spit.

“Sorry darlin. Just thought you might want to help me celebrate later. Once you get off…” Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes lingering up and down your curves, but the offer is short lived as you scoff.

“I’ll pass.” You shoot back, not bothering to wait for a retort or to watch his all too forced smile turns into a heavy scowl, cussing under his breath, calling you a “fuckin’ bitch” as you walked away.

You were too engrossed in taking orders and gathering drinks to notice them leer at you from the corner, leaving only after one round of drinks. You weren’t shocked to find they had paid exact change, no tip included. Good riddance.

The rest of your shift went smoothly, all but forgetting those two idiots and letting the rest of the night fade away.

You left the warmth of the bar behind around two in the morning, along with the smell of stale beer heading for home, making sure your coat was zipped securely as you began to hum “Can’t Help Falling in Love”, an earworm you couldn’t shake since it had been playing on rotation all night.

“Happy Valentine’s Day…” You murmured, tossing your knit beanie over your head and securely over your ears.

Much to your surprise the flurries had stopped earlier, leaving a clear and quiet night behind. The crusty slush and salt mixture crunches beneath your boots with each step. Once you made it past the main storefronts, it began to turn into that thin sheen of icy danger making you slow down a few beats to make sure you didn't slip.

The strap of your backpack kept falling, making you pause to push it up your shoulder again as you suddenly thought you heard what sounded like footsteps falling in behind in time with your own. You stop, and so do they.

Your breath fogs ahead of you as you swallow thickly around a small lump beginning to form in your throat. Something felt off. You turn to look over your shoulder, seeing nothing but an empty sidewalk in a frozen cityscape. A breath of relief escapes you, spinning back around as you pick up the pace.

It was only another two blocks before you would be back in the warmth and safety of your apartment, suddenly aching for a hot bath and a glass of wine to wind down.

A noise from the darkened alley ahead makes your head snap in the direction it came from. The streetlamp was out, making you feel a strange unease once more. You didn’t stop, looking down the street there was a dumpster but nothing else that seems out of place.

It was sudden, knocking the breath from your lungs as your body crashes to the frozen ground, you gasp harshly as something grabs onto you, quickly pulling you back up to a standing position and dragging you closer to the secluded alleyway.

“St—” You try, still too winded from the initial blow to speak, a raspy sort of squeak escaping you instead, your legs thrashing out in front of you.

Whoever it was didn’t let go, forcing their hand over your mouth to stifle any more noises that escape you as their arm wound around your waist, hauling you up as they continue down the dark alleyway. This is it. You think bitterly.

“Stupid bitch.” They hiss. “I asked nicely earlier, ya’ know.”

It suddenly hit you. The asshole from earlier.

You attempt to scream, finally getting the breath back in your lungs but it comes out too muffled behind his large palm.

“Shut the fuck up!” He grits out, right by your ear, suddenly throwing you up against the metal dumpster. Your head hit hard, knocking you dazed as he let you crumple to the ground with a dark chuckle. “Least I can get a pretty penny for that piece of ice on your arm.”

You reach up, your fingertips are met with a warm, wet patch at your hairline, making your grimace as blood slowly trickles down the side of your face.

It all happened so quickly. One second the idiot was right on top of you, breathing down your neck and then he was being pulled away from you with a forceful tug.

There was a half scream, half screeching noise followed by a gurgling sound that was abruptly cut off as an eerie silence hung in the air. You wince, trying to turn your head to see behind you.

Your eyes squint in the dark, two black silhouettes in the shadows clinging closely to each other, or rather, as your eyes begin to focus, one holding the other up. You watch in silence as the figure in a long, dark coat lets the other go. They fall to the ground with a resounding thud in a limp, unmoving heap as a shiver runs down your spine at the sudden revelation.

You try to move back, but your feet fai you, feeling heavy and lethargic, sending you back into the dumpster beside you with a resounding thud, causing his head to snap toward you.

His eyes. That molten amber glowing brightly in the dark. Those eyes that you had dreamed of, it hadn't been your imagination, only now seeming more like a nightmare as he stares at you.

You gasp, covering your mouth as he takes a step forward, his face finally illuminated just enough to see those handsome features come into view only to be obscured with a splatter of crimson splashed across his alabaster skin.

“Steve?!”

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

hi love!! 💋💋

happy valentines day (late)

i adore your work a lot so im your secret fan😗 just wondering if you write headcanons about ran having girlfriend with long curly hair (like calogeras sisters, they r so pretty)

take your time sweetie. have a nice week💋💋😫❣️

Ah thanks, hope you had a nice valentines too! Ok ngl I don't have super long hair or curly hair so idk exactly how accurate this is to the long curly hair experience but here they are!

He loves to admire and compliment your hair a lot, he just thinks it looks so pretty.

Doesn't mind that it may take you longer to get ready, he takes awhile too and likes being fashionably late.

Slyly smiles when he sees others looking at you or admiring your hair, normally he puts an arm around you at this point to show you're his. 

Plays with your hair a lot (if he has permission of course)

Doesn't hesitate to defend you if anyone says anything bad about your hair. He always does it in the most patronising way too, asking the person why they have such bad taste and why they know nothing about hair

Loves to go on salon trips with you, actually considers it to be couples bonding 

Tries to help you out with your hair too, brings you home new products specifically designed for your hair type and little accessories he thinks you would like.

Doesn't even blink if you accidentally break a comb, just passes you another (you're not sure why he has so many or where he got all these combs from.

He's so interested in your hair care routine, like fascinated by how you do your hair. He loves to watch you do it and at the start of your relationship he asked a bunch of questions as he was learning. 

Always comforts you if you feel a bit overwhelmed with your hair or if you're having a bit of an off hair day, he always thinks it looks great on you anyway.

Likes to call the two of you the couple with the best hair (he loves yours and definitely loves his own too).

He has no problem with telling anyone who randomly tries to touch your curls to back off (and because he's pretty intimidating it always works).

And finally, will glare at anyone who tells you to straighten your hair, especially if they've said it multiple times. 

[intrepidacious]

step number one

summary: You haven't kissed anyone in a couple of years. Johnny's more than happy to help you out.

pairing: johnny storm x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: friends to lovers, making out (in the name of practice) please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: this was supposed to be my valentine's day fic but here we are. c'est la vie. hope you still enjoy this fluffy nonsense a week later 🫶🏼

masterlist | read on ao3

"You got any plans for tomorrow?" Johnny asks the day before Valentine’s Day, spread out on your bed like usual, his eyes not lifting from his phone.

You snort. "Yeah, right."

There’s something, you think, about the aggressively pink-and-flowers-and-chocolate aesthetic of this month that well and truly makes you want to throw up. 14 per cent discounts and coupley pictures and cutesy videos have been flooding your feed for the past week and a half, and with most of your friends neatly paired off as well, it’s like there’s absolutely no escaping the—

"Why not?" Johnny asks. "I mean, pretty girl like you gotta have guys lined up around the corner." The smile in his voice is sincere enough to let you believe he really does mean that as a compliment.

"First of all, ew," you reply, closing your app after yet another "date fit" video. "Second, the last date I went on ended with the guy leaving the country, so there’s that." Granted, you’d known about his travel plans beforehand, but still.

Johnny pushes up on one elbow. "Really. Coffee shop creep?"

You scowl at him. "Don’t call him that."

He’d been nice enough. Paid for your drinks and museum tickets. Hung his jacket over your shoulders when you started shivering. Yes, he’d also ghosted you and gone to Iceland, but it wasn’t like you’d known him that well.

You’d only gotten your hopes up too soon, like you always did.

"That was your last date?" Johnny says, attention fully on you now. "Wasn’t that, like, four years ago?"

"Five," you mumble, your cheeks heating. Almost six, but who's counting? "So, no, I’m not doing Valentine’s Day."

Being single is much easier, anyway. You don’t have to consider anyone else in your life; don’t have to wonder about what they’re doing or whether their family liked you or if they’re planning a three month trip abroad … huh. Maybe that one’s still somewhat of a sore point, after all.

"Why haven’t you gone out with anyone in five years?"

"I don’t know, it just sorta happened. Not everyone goes on a date with a new person every week."

"Gross exaggeration."

"Not really," you say, nudging his side with your toes. "Do you ever see those girls a second time?"

"Sometimes. Hey, when did this become about me?" He catches your foot when you make to poke him again. His smile doesn’t waver, but his voice becomes gentler when he speaks again, a little more serious. "I thought you want a relationship."

You swallow.

"I do," you say quietly. "It’s just … it’s scary. I don’t like putting myself out there, and I’ve been so busy with everything else. I don’t have time to worry about small talk or the fact that at this point I don’t even know how to kiss anyone anymore."

It’s a vicious circle, really. Wanting something serious while also being terrified of anything serious. And suddenly, almost without noticing, years have gone by and nothing has changed at all.

Next to you, Johnny goes very still.

Honestly, it’s not the reaction you’ve expected. Deep down, you thought he’d laugh, tease you about the fact that it’s been nearly six years since you’ve gotten intimate with anyone. Sometimes, you want to laugh about it yourself, even though at the same time, you don’t find it funny at all.

But Johnny Storm has always had more layers than people give him credit for; even you, sometimes.

"Do you …" His voice cracks and he clears his throat, staring at the wall behind you. "Do you wanna practice?"

You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks before you even understand what he’s asking. "Practice what?"

"Kissing."

…

Maybe your brain short-circuited. There’s been some misfiring in your neurons, mistranslating his actual words, because there’s no way on earth he’s just suggested what you thought you heard.

"I—"

"It’d be one less thing for you to worry about, you know," he interrupts, talking quickly. You’ve never seen him look at you this intently. He seems to realize from your stunned expression, and a shadow of his earlier smile softens his face. "Don’t worry," he says. "I don’t bite unless you want me to."

Your mouth opens and closes a couple of times, your heart pounding so loud you can hear feel it behind your temples. "I don’t know how to respond to this."

"Say yes," Johnny says. "We can just try it out. We don’t have to bring it up again after today, it’ll just be … preparation, you know? Step number one of getting you back in the game."

It doesn’t feel like a game at all, this suggestion.

The craziest part about it, though, is that you are seriously considering it. You stare at him, his pretty blue eyes and his cocky grin, and the earnest expression behind his nonchalant façade. No matter your answer, he wouldn’t judge you.

Besides, it’s not like you’ve never thought about it.

You’ve caught glimpses of Johnny kissing other girls one too many times not to secretly wonder what it would be like. To feel his lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you, your hands gliding over the short buzz of his hair.

It’s longer now, maybe even long enough to tangle your fingers in and yank.

"Fine," you say quietly, and watch his smirk falter ever so slightly.

No matter his grand bravado, he clearly didn’t expect you to agree. It’s sweet, the way he scrambles to sit up properly, not even caring that his phone drops to the floor.

"Yeah?"

You swallow, nod. There’s an excited blush spreading on his cheeks that’s kind of endearing but also makes you want to melt into the ground. The way he’s staring at your lips makes you feel aware of every single cell in your body. You can’t remember ever being looked at like this.

"Do you want to …?"

"I don’t know, can you just—"

His hand cups your cheek, warm and steady. He’s always so warm.

"Close your eyes," he says lowly, and they fall shut of their own accord.

You don’t think you’re breathing as you wait, your hands fisted into your blanket as if you’re trying to hold on for dear life. Maybe you are.

For a very long moment, nothing happens, and you’re starting to feel like you’re being ridiculed after all. Like you’re going to open your eyes to Johnny laughing in your—

His lips brush against yours, just a single, careful touch, lingering, testing the waters. You don’t dare to move, or breathe, or do anything but feel. Your mind is racing, even though you cannot catch a single coherent thought.

The sheets rustle, the mattress dipping as Johnny breaks the kiss, adjusting his position. His thumb is still on your cheek, a gentle caress.

"You in there, darlin’?"

"Yeah." Your grip loosens a little.

"Okay." His breath fans over your lips. "You wanna try again?"

You’ve barely started nodding before he dives in again.

This time, you’re a little more ready for it, moving your mouth against his experimentally. He smells nice. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

He pulls away again and your heart tugs painfully, but he only tilts his head the other way and goes back to kissing you, still so soft, so languidly, like he has all the time in the world. He makes no rush of deepening the kiss, which is so like and unlike him at the same time.

It’s you, then, who leans in closer, your tongue slipping into his mouth, your brain going in and out of focus with each shuddering breath as he responds fervently. His fingers move down to your chin, angling it just a little. One of your hands lands on his shoulder, seeking balance.

He tastes sweet. Dangerously addictive.

This time, you’re the one to move back, your eyes flying open, feeling like his fire has set your entire body aflame. "How’d I do?"

Johnny blinks a couple of times, staring at your mouth, his pupils blown wide. You press your lips together.

"Not bad," he says hoarsely. "Maybe a little …"

"What?"

"Come here."

He catches your hands, putting them around his neck. It’s an awkward position, the rest of your body still angled away from his until he raises an eyebrow.

You realize there’s two options before you, and you’re not ready to have him on top of you in your own bed.

Instead, you straddle his thighs, looking over his shoulder to not have to meet his eye. His arms fall around you, settling at your lower back, pleasurable heat crawling up your spine.

"This okay?"

You kiss him again.

He makes a startled noise against your mouth, tightening his hold on you as his head drops back, granting you easier access. Your heart is pounding so wildly in your chest it’s making you dizzy.

It’s the most natural thing in the world, to kiss him like this. To scratch your fingernails against the nape of his neck until he makes that sound again. It vibrates against your tongue, and you melt against him, his body hot and solid against yours. Even when you come apart for air, he’s the only real thing in the world.

There’s nothing innocent about the way your mouths crash together now. He swallows your surprised moan like he’s been hungering for it, his hands bunching up your shirt at your back. You shudder against him when he grazes bare skin, each new touch burning in the most delicious manner. You’re weightless, intertwined, content to never again draw a single breath that hasn’t fallen from his lips first.

His tongue slides against yours, tasting your mouth in a way that borders on desperate. You press even closer to him, your fingers slipping into his hair in that way you’ve wanted to for longer than you’ve cared to admit even to yourself, hips involuntarily stuttering against his until he groans, responding in kind to each push and pull.

Finally, after what well may have been hours, you come apart, your forehead pressed to his, chests heaving. You don’t want to open your eyes; don’t want to return to the aftermath of what you’ve just done.

"Go out with me."

You sit back. Johnny’s arms are still draped around you, and there’s a mesmerized smile on his face as he looks at you. "What?"

"Go out with me. On a date." His voice is rough and strangely hopeful, and it makes your stomach flutter. "I promise no small talk."

"You’re not serious."

"About you?" His gaze drops to your lips again. "Always." His nose bumps against yours. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" You exhale shakily, dropping to a whisper. "That’s soon."

"Hmm."

"Maybe I should practice some more before then."

He smiles against your mouth.

thank you for reading my first full length johnny fic 😌 i'm sure it won't be the last. if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[gerec]

chank anon back again (perhaps i should have a different name? valentine’s anon since i am now your secret admirer? :D), here to say you wrote hank wonderfully and i loved the tone of devotion you set for him as always standing by charles! that is exactly how i like to read them in canon, hank is SO ride or die and he deserves all the praise and rewards for it. their friendship is so underrated~

also, i fully respect your thoughts on charles/hank as a bromance! i too usually prefer to read them that way in canon because there’s something so sacred about hank’s devoted friendship without any other underlying dynamic… he’s ride or die for charles just because he is, there don’t have to be any other feelings involved :’)

i hope you don’t mind if i come into your inbox at random times to pick your brain over cherik and x-men rarepairs!! i know you probably won’t, but i am a little in awe of you as an inspirational fandom old and wish to humbly pay my respects with the courtesy that a stranger on the internet is owed ofc

i hope you had a lovely v-day, or if you did not celebrate then a lovely february 14th!! 💕

Aww Anon that's so sweet you can choose whatever name you want!!! I am so happy that you liked the little fic I wrote with Charles/Hank; I love trying rare and unusual pairings, which is why I have such a non standard selection of stories lol. You are ALWAYS welcome to come in and chat with me, on or off Anon (that's entirely up to you :D) - I would love to share ideas and chat about everything/anything fandom with you!!! I appreciate your kind words very very much!!!

[sharffffff]

A betrayal done out of love. It is the worst kind of betrayal one can ever commit, to hurt someone in such a way, to stab them in the back and twist a knife - and not out of hatred, not out of malice, but out of attempt to save them from themselves. Betrayal can be understood when the traitor hates the person they are betraying - whether they hated them the whole time, or have grown resentful of their ways doesn’t matter, for it has become justified in their own eyes through the fact that they can’t stand behind those actions no longer. But betrayal done out of love? One done out of attempt to not let your loved one hurt themself, thus hurting them more than their actions ever could? Such betrayal cannot be forgiven, it cannot be explained, it cannot be justified. And it never works, either, for the spite driving the one who has been betrayed will only make them hurt themself more, rendering the whole thing pointless. Rendering the traitor both devastated through the loss of their friend, and unsuccessful in their plans. Making the rift that is so large, it would take far too long to even begin to repair, requiring time and effort from both parties - and while the traitor might try to fix things, would the betrayed ever be able to trust them again? Would they ever be able to forgive them?

Deep down, Sty knew that this plan would fail. He knew it was a bad idea, he knew it would never work, he knew 4C would hate him for doing it, but he had to try. He just had to try, he had to take the chance to save his fellow pirate from himself, and if he could’ve saved his life even if it cost them their friendship, he would’ve taken that chance. And he did. And he failed. And he failed oh so miserably.

When Gravel suggested trapping 4C, doing everything to keep him safe, protecting him from himself, Sty was hesitant. He felt weird working with his enemy, and he felt weird about this whole plan - he didn’t want 4C dead, but he didn’t want him trapped in a box either. Yes, a nicely decorated box, but an obsidian box nonetheless. But as more time went by, as 4C’s scheduled death began rapidly approaching, Sty’s mind got set on this idea fully. He hated it, he hated the fact that he had to trap his friend in this place, but he felt like he had to do it. There was no other way to protect him. No other way to make sure he would stay alive. And god, Sty just couldn’t lose him. He didn’t know if he could live if 4C was dead. The world just wouldn’t be the same. And so he went through with the plan, despite all the outs 4C tried giving him, despite the fact he knew that 4C knew that he was lying, despite the devastation in 4C’s voice when they approached the trap. Sty knew that his plan was found out long before the slime ended up locked in the room, but he refused to believe it, refused to think that 4C would let him betray his trust like that, refused to accept that his attempt to save him - his betrayal - would be not just found out, but followed through. 

So when 4C got locked away, when he got trapped, when he realized that Sty wasn’t going to admit to the betrayal - Sty heard his voice change, he could’ve sworn he saw a glint of anger in his eyes even through the wall, and gods, he never heard 4C that angry before. Even when their ship was burned, even when they lost everything, the slime was rather calm. Yes, calm in his anger, but calm nonetheless. Now, however? Now Sty could feel the anger, the rage, the hatred in waves even through the obsidian walls, he could feel the tension and disappointment and distrust seeping through the cracks, and, worst of all, he could hear the acid in his voice and know that it was directed at him, at the one who betrayed his trust. The one who promised he would never betray him, the one who 4C trusted and who abused his trust. And the one who couldn’t even go in and see him, because of Gravel blocking the way, because of Gravel telling it was for the best. Sty couldn’t even tell him why he did this, he couldn’t even explain how much he cared about him, he couldn’t explain what his death would do to him. But leaving 4C to be alone instead was almost more of the betrayal than this whole box. 

And when Sty returned, having gathered all his thoughts, all his explanations in a single book, he could feel that it was already too late. When he broke through despite Gravel’s protests, when he gave the book to 4C, when he tried to get him out - he knew 4C’s plans have already changed. He knew 4C was going to die here, not giving Sty a chance to get him out first, not giving him a chance to apologize, not giving him a chance to react - only watch on, in horror, as it was about to happen. Not knowing how, not knowing when, but knowing that the death would happen soon, and leaving Sty to wonder and to dread. And when 4C didn’t even read the book, when 4C refused to even look Sty in the eyes except to let Sty know just how badly he messed up, when Sty saw 4C’s eyes be even deeper, darker black when they usually are, Sty couldn’t help but feel like the worst person in this world. And maybe at the moment, he was. Because he betrayed his closest friend out of love, out of selfishness, out of wish to protect him but in fact to protect himself from being hurt, and it was all for nothing. Because he knew it was always going to end this way.

And when Apokuna came, the harbinger of death, the slayer of those who wish for it, Sty didn’t even try to get in their way. He knew that it would only make things worse, he knew that he already betrayed 4C once - he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t save him from death if he wanted it so much, and stopping Apo would’ve felt like yet another betrayal. And so he watched. He felt that if he turned away, when 4C wanted him to see it, that if he broke the eye contact the slime was still keeping with him, he would be even more of a traitor. 

It took three strikes. Two slashes and a sword straight through the heart, giving 4C barely any chance to even react. Sty could’ve sworn he saw a shock in 4C’s eyes from how quickly it went - but that couldn’t be it, not with the slime’s confidence in his death. And then Apo left, as quickly as they appeared, leaving Sty all alone in this room before 4C’s body even hit the ground. 

And a second later Sty felt his limbs go into motion, barely able to catch him, while almost falling to the ground himself. The slime was gone. Apo knew what he was doing - death being swift and final, no chance for final words, no chance to say goodbye. Sty felt like he didn’t even deserve to be here, he didn’t even deserve to hold 4C’s body after what he has done, didn’t deserve the chance to cry over his loss. Didn’t deserve a chance to say sorry, even if 4C couldn’t hear him. He betrayed him, and he knew he did, and it hurt, it hurt so much. How could he have done it? What overcame him to do such a thing?

Sty could try to justify his actions for as long as needed, but he knew there was no justification for it. And now, 4C would never even have a chance to hear him say it.

“Our time together on this server has meant everything to me, 4C. I just couldn’t let it end. But it ended anyway, didn’t it? It was always going to end this way, and I messed up. We could’ve spent your final moments doing what you wanted to do, and instead you had to spend them in a box. And for that, I’m sorry, though I don’t expect you to forgive me. Goodbye, my friend.”

Sty’s mouth was so dry he could barely speak, and by the time he finished, his tears had run dry as well. This was all his fault. This day went so horribly wrong, and it was all because of him. And knowing this had felt just oh so horrible. 

Sty carried 4C’s body out by himself - he couldn’t trust anyone else to bury him, but at this point, he didn’t know if he should even trust himself. Dark blue blood had stained his hands and his clothes, but that was the least of his worries, not after the book he found on 4C’s body while preparing to go out of the box. Not after the book that was clearly written days ago, and now stained with blood - but still having readable text. Not after the book that was dedicated to him, not after the book that spoke of how 4C’s biggest fear was Sty’s betrayal. Not after the book that Sty accidentally had proven right. Not after having fulfilled 4C’s biggest fear on this server, not after the betrayal that was so devastating, nobody involved had been left standing. And now Sty had to bury 4C, alone, while not knowing if he even deserved to do it. And god, it hurt.

It hurt so much, knowing that the future was always set in stone. It hurt so much, knowing that it was always going to happen. It hurt so, so fucking much.

[sweetandglovelyart]

It’s a little bit late for Valentine’s Day but here’s the reveal of my cursed Kirby crack ship as promised: it’s Dyna Blade/Captain Vul and I envision their relationship dynamic as being like Donkey and Dragon’s relationship dynamic in the Shrek movies.