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2pndr · 2 days ago

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Secret In a Winter Wonderland - Part One

Sequel to Dinner In a Winter Wonderland

A/N: Split into two parts to give y'all a little Valentine's day gift. Enjoy!

Winter x Male Reader Fluff

6.8k words

It just sits there. Menacingly.

A reflective abyss on your bedside table, pulling your gaze in, swallowing it whole. Its surface is dark, still, resolute, offering up nothing but your own tired reflection.

Your elbows press into your knees, fingers interlocked, chin resting lightly as you watch. A restless sort of stillness settles over you, like a held breath, stretched thin. You tell yourself it’s ridiculous—this quiet expectation, this fixation on a single moment. And yet, here you are, transfixed, as if sheer willpower could make the inevitable happen just a little faster.

You gaze into the abyss, and the abyss gazes back.

Time slows. Your mind stills. You achieve a brief, bastardised nirvana—one born not of inner peace, but sheer unrelenting anticipation.

Your heightened state of awareness sharpens every detail around you: the distant hum of the heater battling the cold, the way the floor creaks when you shift your weight, the faint ticking of a clock you don’t remember ever buying. You can even smell your own existence—morning breath, yesterday’s worn clothes, and the distant, ghostly trace of whatever your neighbor was cooking at fuck-it-O’clock.

Not that any of it matters. The world outside could be crumbling, sucked up into the sky and you’d still be here. Watching. Waiting.

Then—a familiar tune, handpicked by you. A tremor escapes the abyss, shivering through the table. You see it. You feel it.

The abyss stirs to life, the darkness awakening into a symphony of colour and you’re met with what you’ve been so anxiously waiting for...

Hyoon is live: glorp

“OH COME THE FUCK ON!”

You groan, flopping backward onto your bed, phone queued to be crushed in your hand. The fuck does ‘glorp’ even mean? The worst part? You don’t even remember following Hyoon. So either, you’re under some algorithmic curse, or it’s some divine punishment for your hubris of hope.

You glare at the abyss. The abyss sneers back.

It doesn't have any appendages but you swear to god if it did, it’d be flipping you off.

With a sigh, you swipe the notification away, telling yourself it’s fine. It’s not like you were waiting for a message from Minjeong or anything.

….Okay, you totally were.

She was probably just busy, right? Or sleeping in? Or—God forbid—had actually forgotten.

A childish concern to be sure. But one that torments you anyway.

Every morning for the past few days, you’d woken up to her cheerful messages—a jolly “good morning”, a lively teasing, or if you were really lucky, a video call where she’d spend half the time hiding her face because she “looks ugly without makeup!”

Today, though, there’s nothing.

You shake your head, trying to push it down. It’s not like you’re entitled to a text. You’re not even dating. You’re just… close. Close enough that something about today just feels off. Close enough that your past five mornings have come to revolve around this one, singular moment.

So, you do the only reasonable thing you can: bury yourself beneath the covers and pretend none of this is happening.

For a minute, it almost works. The warmth of your blankets, the lingering sleepiness clinging to your limbs—it all lulls you into a state of half-consciousness, where the world is soft and Minjeong exists only in vague, glowing, adorable impressions. The sound of her laugh, the way she hides her face when she’s flustered, the warmth in her eyes when she—

Ding-dong.

The fucking doorbell.

You groan, dragging yourself out of bed with all the enthusiasm of a man heading to the gallows. Who the hell even—

Knock knock knock.

Followed by a pause. And then—

Knock knock knock knock knock knock knock.

You grit your teeth. Whoever it is, I swear to God—

Ding-dong.

The doorbell again.

“I’m coming!” you snap, voice sharper than intended. The knocking stops immediately. But just as you reach the door, you swear you hear a faint giggle on the other side.

The door swings open, and—

“Surprise!”

Minjeong.

She stands there, cheeks flushed from the cold, snowflakes clinging to her adorable little beanie. Her navy coat is buttoned up to her chin, uniting with her scarf to make her look impossibly cozy. Her smile is wide, bright, her voice honey-smooth with that gorgeous teasing lilt.

She wasn’t ignoring you. She was here.

And then she lunges.

Before you can react, she wraps her arms around you, her face burying into you. It’s abrupt—too quick for someone as shy as Minjeong usually is—but her grip is firm, almost desperate. Like she’s been holding onto this impulse for days and finally gets to give in.

You hesitate for half a second before your arms come up to reciprocate. Maybe it’s just your imagination. Or maybe absence really does make the heart grow fonder, because she’s warm. Too warm for someone who was just trudging about in the snow.

It takes you a moment to realize she’s not letting go. Not immediately. Not like a casual greeting. Instead, she lingers—because staying here, just like this, feels right in a way neither of you want to break just yet.

“I missed you,” She mumbles into your chest.

And you missed her. But you just hold her tighter, letting your arms say it for you.

She lingers. Long enough that you feel her breathing even out, long enough that the cold on her coat fades, long enough that when she finally pulls back, it’s slow, reluctant—she doesn't quite want to let go.

And frankly, you don’t want to either.

Her hands hesitate at your sides, fingers curling like she might change her mind and stay just a little longer. But then she exhales, a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, and steps back, tucking a stray strand of white hair behind her ear.

Minjeong looks up at you, her expression unreadable for a moment—something between embarrassment and contentment. Then, like a switch flipping, she schools her face into something more familiar: light, teasing, joyful.

“Now,” she begins, the corners of her lips curling as if nothing had happened, “are you ready for today, or do you need a few minutes to stop looking like you just rolled out of bed?”

For as long as you can remember, you’ve always hated Christmas.

(Yeah, you can’t believe you were like that either.)

It’s a sentiment that had you aptly nicknamed “The Grinch" by those unfortunate enough to be in your circle. Minus the Jim Carrey charisma, of course.

It wasn’t the bitter winter chill that seemed to ignore flesh, or the gaudy over-saturation of red and green that plagued the city. Not even the endless loop of Mariah Carey that played everywhere three months in advance seemed to get to you.

…Alright, maybe a little bit.

What did get to you, though, was that gnawing feeling, one that lingered throughout the year, lurking beneath, only exposing itself in all its agonizing glory during the holiday season.

You were alone. And worse than that—you felt like you always would be.

It was something you had long come to terms with. You thought yourself someone incapable of forming new connections, that chance hindered by the fear of fucking up every possible interaction you ever had.

Then she came along and shattered your whole worldview.

It was effortless with her. Conversations would flow without you overthinking every word. Silences weren’t awkward either—they just were. She laughed at your dumb jokes, complimented you like she’d known you forever and listened in a way that made you feel like you actually mattered.

It felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. And for the first time in a very, very long time, you weren’t on the outside looking in.

Honestly, you had your friends to thank for that. Funny how that worked—they were the ones who begged you to go on that ridiculous Christmas quadruple date in the first place, even bribing you to come along.

You went that night thinking you were doing them a favor. But now? Not even a week into knowing her?

You look over and smile.

You can’t imagine a world without Kim Minjeong.

“I do have eyebrows,” she huffs beside you.

You blink. “What?”

Minjeong glares, cheeks puffing out just slightly—an expression you’ve seen before, but never this close. “You were staring at them.”

It takes you a second to catch up, your brain still half-lost in the warmth of your own thoughts. Then it clicks.

Oh. This again.

“You’re still on about that?” you say, fighting a smirk.

She turns her head sharply, huffing like you’ve insulted her honor. “You literally said it the other day.”

“I never said you don’t have eyebrows,” you defend, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I just said they’re, you know… subtle.”

“They’re not subtle!” she argues, gesturing vaguely at her face.

“I mean, they kind of are,” you tease, tilting your head as if re-evaluating them. “Like, if I had to describe them, I’d say they’re… elusive.”

She gasps, scandalised, smacking your arm with a force that doesn’t match her size. You wince dramatically, rubbing the spot, but it’s worth it to see the way her pout deepens.

You had brought it up during one of those lucky wake-up video calls, mostly because it had been the first time you’d ever seen her completely barefaced. Her hair was damp, eyelids heavy and yet she still looked so goddamn adorable and huggable and a thousand more adjectives for how endearing she always was—not that you had the guts to say any of them out loud. Instead, your brain had done what it always did in moments of vulnerability: it scrambled for something stupid to say.

And somehow, that stupid thing had been, “Huh. You really weren’t lying about the eyebrow thing.”

Minjeong had instantly slapped a hand over her forehead, shrieking in horror while you laughed so hard you nearly dropped your phone.

“You’re just twisting my words,” you say now, unable to resist teasing her further. “I never said you don’t have them.”

She scoffs, turning back to you with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. “You implied it.”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“I should put my fist in your mouth.”

The deadpan delivery nearly makes you wheeze. You can’t help but chuckle, “Well, whatever helps you sleep at night. Eyebrow-less or not.”

Minjeong groans in exasperation, dragging a hand down her face, but there’s no real ire there. If anything, you catch one of her signature smiles ready to burst out.

The banter drifts into silence—the two of you aren’t exactly conversationalists—but you don’t mind, and neither does she. It’s a comfortable silence.

Because even though neither of you are brave enough to admit it, you both know the other wants to be there.

Minjeong turns her head away at the thought, a little too quickly—she’s hoping you won’t catch the flush creeping up her cheeks. The glow of the streetlights isn’t doing her any favors, painting her in warm golds that give her more attention than she’d probably like. She clears her throat, stuffing her hands deeper into her pockets, the attempt at nonchalance falling apart when she shifts closer—just slightly—enough that her arm brushes against yours before she freezes, like she’s debating whether to move away again.

She doesn’t.

You pretend not to notice, and she pretends she doesn’t want you to. But the heat lingers where your arms continue to blissfully collide, warming you unlike your coats and scarves ever could.

And for the first time in forever, the city around you doesn’t feel quite so cold.

It occurs to you that neither you or her really go out that much.

Because frankly, you’re both in awe.

The market feels like a wellspring of life: the countless people weaving in and out of stalls, the gorgeous glow of lanterns swaying in the wind, the scent of whatever divine snack that old auntie is cooking up. It all feels like something out of a fairytale—like a place where time slows down for a little while.

Beside you, Minjeong takes it all in with quiet wonder, her hands tucked deep into her coat pockets. She’s always been the type to observe rather than dive right in, (at least you guess it is—it’s how you are, after all) but today, she looks lighter—like she’s letting herself enjoy the moment, letting herself be here, with you.

And for that reason, your chest feels warmer than it should.

You watch as she slows near a stall selling candied strawberries, gaze lingering for just a second too long before she shakes her head and keeps walking.

“You know,” you start, stuffing your hands into your own pockets, “there’s something kinda nice about today.”

Minjeong tilts her head toward you. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” You glance up at the lights overhead. “New Year’s Day always feels… different. Like a reset. No pressure, no expectations—just a fresh start.”

She hesitates mid-step. It’s brief, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

When you glance at her, she’s looking down at the stone path beneath her feet, her lips pressing together like she’s trying to hide a reaction.

“…Yeah,” she says after a moment, her voice quieter than before. “It’s kinda the point, no?.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you just shrug and keep walking.

The subject drifts, and soon enough, Minjeong’s energy picks up again. She tugs you toward different food stalls, eyes flicking between them like she’s looking through a magazine

“Hotteok sounds good,” she muses, then immediately wavers. “But tteokbokki is, like, a classic…”

She stands there for ages, bouncing on her heels, muttering under her breath—“Sweet or spicy? Ugh, why is this so hard?”—before finally throwing her hands up in defeat.

“Okay, both!” she finally declares, turning to you like it was the obvious answer all along.

You watch as Minjeong receives the hotteok from the vendor like a child on Christmas day, holding it up to you with the biggest smile on her face. She hands it to you as she practically skips over to the tteokbokki vendor.

The vendor eyes you both with a knowing smile as she hands over the food.

“You two make such a cute couple,” she says, her voice warm, like she’s seen this scene a hundred times before.

You and Minjeong freeze at the exact same time.

Your first instinct is to correct her, to say something—anything—but Minjeong doesn’t. She doesn’t argue, doesn’t scoff, doesn’t even look at you. Instead, she just quietly takes the tteokbokki, her fingers wrapping around the warm paper cup, and murmurs a soft, barely audible, “Thank you.”

You clear your throat, shifting slightly on your feet. “Uh, yeah—thanks.”

Neither of you say anything else. Neither of you correct her.

Because the thing is—being mistaken for Minjeong’s boyfriend doesn’t feel wrong. It doesn’t feel like some ridiculous, impossible idea.

It feels like something you could get used to.

The thought follows you as you both take a seat at a vacant table, Minjeong carefully blowing on a piece of rice cake before taking a bite. She scrunches her nose slightly at the spice, and without thinking, you nudge a drink from the vending machine closer to her. She takes it wordlessly, sipping at it with a warm smile and sigh of relief.

Yeah. You could really get used to this.

She puts the drink back on the table and freezes.

You barely catch it—the way her fingers falter around the bottle, how her eyes widen slightly before she ducks her head, shoulders curling inward. It’s quick, so quick that if you weren’t looking at her, you would’ve missed it entirely.

Then, as if on instinct, she suddenly moves closer to you, pressing into your side ever so slightly.

“What—?” you begin, but she shushes you, fingers wrapping around your sleeve as she subtly angles herself away.

“Move.”

“Move where?”

“Just—stay still.”

You frown, about to question her, when you follow her gaze toward the other side of the market.

Karina, Giselle, and Ning Ning.

They’re not exactly hiding well—huddled together behind a food stall, peeking out from behind a cart of roasted sweet potatoes, whispering among themselves. The moment you make eye contact, Ning Ning grins.

Oh.

Minjeong groans under her breath, already knowing what’s about to happen. And before you can say anything, she stands up, spins on her heel and speed-walks straight behind a stack of crates.

You blink, staring at the spot where she was just standing. Then at the girls making their way toward you with far too much mischief in their eyes.

“Hey,” Karina greets smoothly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

You sigh. “Heeeeey.”

“You know,” Giselle starts, tilting her head, “we were wondering if you’ve seen Minjeong. She left the apartment really early this morning.”

“Super early,” Ning Ning adds.

“So early,” Karina echoes, nodding solemnly.

You raise an eyebrow, trying your best to keep your expression neutral. “Really?” You pretend to think to yourself before concluding: “Sorry, got no idea.”

There’s a beat of silence as the three of them stare at you expectantly.

Giselle crosses her arms. “Really?”

“Mhm.”

“She’s not here?” Ning Ning presses.

“Nope.”

Karina hums, shifting her weight onto one foot. “So you’re just… out here. Alone. At a New Year’s market. With two cups of tteokbokki?”

The anxiety in your laugh is about as subtle as a shotgun shot. “Guys gotta eat.”

“Right,” Giselle nods, teasing. “And you were just talking to yourself earlier, huh?”

You shrug. “Well uh—Sometimes, you gotta have a conversation with the only person who truly understands you.”

“You always buy two drinks?”

“Thirst like a camel,” you take a sip.

Ning Ning gestures to the table. “And the second set of chopsticks?”

“Better safe than sorry.”

There’s a long silence. Any more questions and you’ll be out of clichés.

Karina exhales a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “Wow.”

Giselle looks impressed. “I gotta admit, you’re committed.”

“Yeah, I respect it,” Ning Ning nods. “But also, you suck at lying.”

Your lips press together in a flat line, eyes narrowing in annoyance, but before you can say anything, Karina suddenly sighs. “Oh well. I guess since Minjeong isn’t here, I should probably tell you how much she talks about you back home.”

Your eyebrows lift slightly. “Oh?”

Sorry, Minjeong. You’re gonna have to hear this one.

“Mhm,” Karina muses, crossing her arms. “She’s always going on about how cut—”

“I SWEAR TO GOD, KARINA.”

Minjeong bursts from her hiding spot so fast she nearly knocks over a stand. You can just about see lightning start to materialise around her as the sky turns a few shades darker. You’ve never heard her yell—never even seen her truly angry, and yet, even with all that irritation boiling over, she still manages to be her enchantingly charming self. She scrambles to steady herself, cheeks flaring with embarrassment, glaring daggers at her friends as they burst into laughter.

“There you are!” all three sarcastically remark as schrodinger’s eyebrows narrow at their chortling.

Before you can even think to react, Minjeong suddenly dashes and all but throws herself behind you, gripping the back of your coat like a shield against the relentless teasing.

“You guys are the worst,” she hisses, voice muffled slightly from where she’s pressed her forehead against your shoulder.

You blink, your mind caught somewhere between amused and a little stunned at how quickly she’s decided you are now her human barricade. The warmth of her fingers clinging to your sleeve is distracting—almost as distracting as the way her embarrassment is now being shared with you as you’re forced to stare down her friends.

Giselle folds her arms, grinning like she’s just been handed the juiciest gossip of her life. “What’s wrong Minjeong? We couldn’t just miss your very first date!”

Minjeong groans, squeezing the fabric of your coat like she’s physically bracing herself. “It’s not a date.”

“Uh-huh.” Ning Ning nods sagely. “ Let’s see, you came here together. Are eating together. Laughing together. And if I do say so myself,” she giggles “looking just the cutest together.”

Now you wish you had a human shield to hide behind.

Minjeong tugs your coat harder. You’re not sure if it’s for comfort or because she’s planning on suffocating herself in it and retorts,“Oh, shut up.”

Karina sighs, pulling out her phone with the kind of enthusiasm only a proud mother could have, already angling for the perfect shot. “Well, whether it’s a date or not, we should probably get a photo to commemorate the occasion.”

Minjeong’s grip tightens to a death hold. “No.”

“Oh, c’mon,” Karina says, already tapping at her screen. “It’s an important day.”

“For what?” Minjeong demands, voice high and outraged.

Giselle smirks. “Your anniversary, duh.”

Minjeong makes a noise like she’s about to combust on the spot.

You laugh, glancing down at her, still very much using you as a human shield. If this were you a week ago, you’d probably want to protest as much as she does—but something about annoying this girl just feels right.

“I mean, if they’re offering…” you tease.

She jerks her head up to glare at you, her mortification morphing into mild betrayal. “Not. Helping.”

You grin, but before you can say anything else, Karina is already holding up her phone. “Alright, lovebirds, get closer.”

“We are close,” Minjeong deadpans, considering she is quite literally glued to your side.

Ning Ning waves a hand. “Closer.”

Minjeong groans in defeat but doesn’t move away. Instead, she grumbles something under her breath before begrudgingly tilting her head so it rests lightly against your arm.

Your stomach does a backflip.

Click.

Karina inspects the photo with a satisfied nod before showing it to the others. “That’s a keeper.”

“Oh yeah,” Giselle agrees, smirking at Minjeong. “We’re sending this to your mum.”

Minjeong stiffens. “Do not send that to my mum.”

“No promises.”

She lets out the longest sigh of her life, looking utterly done with everything and everyone.

Finally, Karina tucks her phone away with a little smirk. “Alright, we’ll leave you guys to it. But don’t have too much fun without us, okay?”

“Yeah,” Ning Ning winks. “We’ll see you two lovebirds at the B—New Year’s party later.”

Minjeong doesn’t even fight it this time, just slumps further against your side as they wave goodbye and disappear into the crowd. Then, with the heaviest sigh yet, she finally looks up at you.

“…I can’t believe I’m friends with them.”

You chuckle, shaking your head in amusement.

She narrows her eyes. “And you—” she jabs a finger into your arm, still not letting go of your sleeve. “You totally threw me under the bus back there.”

“How?”

“The photo! You helped them.”

You grin. “What’s wrong? I bet it was cute.”

Minjeong stares at you, lips parting slightly before she scoffs, crossing her arms. “Oh yeah? And what makes you think that?”

You tilt your head, considering. Then, with an easy shrug, you say, “Because you’re in it.”

Cheesy? You’re goddamn right.

There’s a pause, though.

A very long pause.

Minjeong’s mouth opens, then closes again. Her cheeks start turning pink at an alarming rate, and for a second, she looks like she might explode. Then, with a sharp exhale, she turns her head away, grumbling under her breath.

“Don’t think just because you complimented me, I’m not still angry,” she mutters.

She says that, but you can’t help but notice she’s still wrapped herself around your sleeve.

Yeah, you could get really, really used to this.

The mall doors slide open with a rush of warm air, a stark contrast to the chill still clinging to your coats. Minjeong is latched onto your sleeve, the way she has been ever since your run in with her friends.

She doesn’t seem to notice.

And you don’t mention it.

Instead, you take in the change of scenery: crowds still weaving—only this time through stores—holiday decorations glinting under bright overhead lights, and the distant hum of Mariah Carey playing from the food court.

(It’s almost been a week, you muppets.)

You notice a couple, standing close near the entrance of a boutique. The girl is holding onto her partner’s sleeve, much like Minjeong is doing now. They exchange quiet words, laughter curling into the air between them, before the guy leans down—pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

Minjeong stiffens.

And then—like she’s been caught with her hand in the cookie jar—her hand is gone.

The warmth of her grip vanishes in an instant. She tucks her hands into her coat pockets, glancing away so fast you’d think she just witnessed something scandalous. The tips of her ears glow red beneath the strands of hair peeking out from her beanie.

Your brain stalls for a moment, your own face heating. You need to say something. Anything.

And so, with the smooth eloquence of a man who has definitely not just had his brain scrambled, you mumble, “Drinks,” pointing to the café conveniently in the opposite direction of the couple.

Minjeong exhales, a breathy sort of laugh slipping out as she latches onto the suggestion like it’s a life raft. “Yes. Drinks would be nice.”

Neither of you comment on the fact that her voice is about an octave higher than usual.

As is expected of the new year, the café is quite full, but you manage to snag a small table near the window. Minjeong sits across from you, her hands wrapped around her cup like it’s a small, comforting anchor. She takes an absentminded sip, letting out a tiny, pleased hum at the taste.

“I think I won,” she says after a moment, her voice soft but with a hint of pride. She glances at your drink, then back at hers. “Mine’s better.”

You raise an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Bold claim. What did you even get?”

“Hazelnut latte,” she says, lifting her cup slightly as if to prove her point. “It’s… really good. Like, reeeeally good.”

You nod slowly, playing along. “And you’re sure it’s not just, I don’t know, sugar disguised as coffee?”

She gives you a look, half-amused, half-unimpressed. “It’s balanced. You wouldn’t understand.” Her tone is as casual as can be, but you feel like she’s trying a little too hard to keep the conversation going. It’s not hard to guess why. The memory of the couple near the boutique is etched into your eyelids. It too haunts you.

So, you humor her. “Alright, Miss Coffee Connoisseur. Prove it.”

She hesitates for a moment, her gaze flickering to your drink. Then, with a quiet determination, she reaches over, takes your cup, and lifts it to her lips. You blink, caught off guard, as she takes a careful sip. She lowers the cup, her lips pressing together thoughtfully before she nods.

“…Yep. Mine’s better,” she declares, setting your drink back down in front of you. Her voice is steady, but the tips of her ears are pink, and she quickly tucks her hands back into her lap.

You exhale a quiet chuckle, shaking your head as you take the cup back. You take another sip, only to pause. There’s something faintly sweet on the rim—something that wasn’t there before. It takes you a second to place it: her lip balm.

The realization makes your face warm, but you don’t mention it. Instead, you glance at her, only to find her already looking away, her focus suddenly very intent on her own drink.

And just like you feel one step closer to being that couple.

The two of you drift through the mall almost aimlessly.

Lunch together, getting mistaken for a couple, her clinging to your sleeve, coffee, her lip balm on the rim of your cup. It’s all there, lingering in your mind's eye.

The idea strikes you suddenly, almost impulsively: you should buy her something. A small token, maybe, to mark the day. After all, she’s been by your side through all of it, even when things got awkward.

It feels right.

“Hey,” you say, nodding toward a gift shop. “Let’s check it out.”

Minjeong glances at the shop, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she shakes her head, her voice soft but firm. “It’s just a gift shop. We don’t need to go in.”

You shrug, already stepping toward the entrance. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Maybe they have something cool.”

She hesitates, but she follows you in anyway, though her steps are noticeably slower than yours. The shop is cozy, filled with shelves of trinkets, plush toys, and holiday-themed knickknacks. You start browsing almost immediately, picking up a snow globe and giving it a shake. Minjeong lingers near the entrance, her arms crossed loosely over her chest.

“Look at this,” you say, holding up a small, glittery keychain. “Isn’t this kind of your vibe?”

She glances at it, her expression neutral. “It’s… shiny.”

“Exactly,” you say, grinning. “Shiny is good.”

She doesn’t respond, her gaze drifting to a nearby shelf. You move on, picking up a stuffed reindeer and holding it out to her. “What about this? It’s cute, right?”

She eyes it for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess.”

Her lack of enthusiasm is starting to feel deliberate, but you press on, determined to find something she’ll like. You hold up a scented candle, a notebook with a floral design, even a pair of fuzzy socks. Each time, her responses are polite but distant, her tone clipped.

Finally, you turn to her, holding up a small, delicate bracelet. “Okay, what about this? It’s simple. Classy. Totally you.”

She looks at it, then at you, her expression softening for just a moment before she shakes her head. “You don’t need to buy me anything,” she says, her voice quieter now. “Really.”

There’s something in her tone—something almost pleading—that makes you pause. You lower the bracelet, studying her face. “Why not? It’s just a little something. ”

She looks away, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “It’s not that. I just… don’t need anything. Let’s go.”

Her insistence feels strange, almost out of character, but you don’t push it. Instead, you set the bracelet back on the shelf and follow her out of the shop. As you step back into the mall, she exhales softly, almost like she’s relieved.

You glance at her, trying to read her expression, but she’s already walking ahead, her hands back in her pockets. There’s a distance between you now, physical, yes, but also something you can’t quite name. You want to ask her what’s wrong, but the words don’t come. Instead, you fall into step beside her, the silence between you uncharacteristically uncomfortable.

You’re wrestling with the idea that you fucked things up.

Minjeong is still walking beside you, but something feels… off. The usual rhythm between you—the comfortable silences, the easy back-and-forth—it’s not quite there anymore. You keep replaying the moment over in your head, dissecting every word, every hesitation in her voice. Was it too much? Did I push too hard?

She looked relieved when you dropped it. That’s what gets to you the most.

You risk a glance at her. She looks normal enough—hands tucked in her pockets, gaze flitting over the decorations lining the streets—but now that you’re paying attention, you notice the way she keeps her shoulders just a little too stiff, her head angled to the floor like she’s deep in thought.

You want to fix it. Whatever it is.

But you don’t know how.

And so, as the two of you step into the crisp winter night, a quiet, creeping fear settles in your gut—

Maybe you ruined the day.

You’re half considering diving head first into the snow when she finally turns to look up at you.

“I’m not mad at you, you know.”

Oh thank God.

You blink,“You’re not?”

Minjeong raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Do I look mad?”

You hesitate. “…A little?”

She rolls her eyes, sighing like you’re the most dramatic person she’s ever met. “Well, I’m not,” she says, shifting her weight. “So you can stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

The tension in your chest loosens, but not completely. “Are you sure? Because if this is one of those ‘I’m fine’ situations where you’re actually seething and plotting my demise, I’d rather know now.”

That earns you a small huff of laughter, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. “I promise I’m not mad. I just…” She pauses, her gaze flickering away for a brief second before she shrugs. “I don’t really like receiving gifts. That’s all.”

Something about the way she says it, the way her hands burrow even deeper into her pockets, makes you think it’s not all. But she’s looking at you so earnestly, like she’s hoping you’ll just take her words at face value, and—well.

If she doesn’t want to talk about it, you won’t push.

“…Alright,” you say,“I guess that means I’ll have to keep my incredibly thoughtful, totally amazing gift ideas to myself.”

Minjeong snorts. “Tragic.”

“You have no idea.”

And just like that, the air between you feels lighter again. It’s not entirely resolved, but at least you're not back to square one. For now, it’s enough.

Enough for you to start teasing her again, that is.

“So,” you start, watching Minjeong out of the corner of your eye. “Do you really talk about me back home?”

Minjeong stiffens for half a second before tilting her head, feigning confusion. “Huh?”

“Karina said you talk about me.” You shove your hands deeper into your coat, biting back a smile. “A lot.”

She scoffs, her breath coming out in a visible puff of air. “Okay, a lot is an exaggeration.”

You give her a look.

Minjeong keeps her eyes trained ahead, jaw set. “Barely,” she amends, her voice forcibly casual. “Like, a little. A tiny bit,” she emphasizes with her fingers.

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced.

She exhales sharply through her nose, as if this whole conversation is an inconvenience. “Okay, fine—occasionally.”

You hum in response, nodding thoughtfully. “So, like... once a day?”

She clicks her tongue. “No.”

“Twice a day?”

Minjeong glares at you. “No.”

“Oh, three times?” You gasp dramatically. “Four?”

She whirls on you, cheeks dusted pink—probably from the cold, but also, maybe not. “You know what?” she says, voice a little too calm.

And then she bends down.

You blink, barely processing the movement before—

A snowball collides with your chest.

You stumble back half a step, mouth parting in surprise. Minjeong straightens, smirking in satisfaction, brushing leftover snow from her gloves.

“Oh,” you say slowly. “Oh, you wanna play that game?”

Minjeong takes a step back, as if realizing what she’s just set into motion. “Now, let’s not be rash—”

You don’t let her finish.

Your hand scoops up a fistful of snow in record time, and Minjeong yelps as she scrambles away, laughing.

She sprints toward a park bench and ducks behind it just as your snowball whizzes past her, landing harmlessly in a bush. Peeking out, she grins. “You missed.”

You shake your head, already gathering more snow. “I’m just warming up.”

Before you can throw, she lunges from her hiding spot and fires another snowball. You twist, but it still clips your shoulder, sending a flurry of cold against your neck.

“Okay—” You cough, shaking snow from your hair. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Minjeong shrieks as you charge at her. She haphazardly throws another snowball before turning to flee, but the fresh powder slows her down just enough. You scoop up more snow mid-stride, barely breaking pace as you launch it at her back.

Direct hit.

She lets out a gasp, whipping around. “Oh, you did not just—”

Another snowball grazes her arm.

Minjeong’s jaw drops. “Oh, that’s it.”

She grabs a double handful of snow and starts forming ammo at an alarming rate.

Your eyes widen. “Wait—”

Too late.

She launches one after another, relentless, laughing as you duck and scramble for cover. “Where’s all that confidence now?” she teases.

You manage to get behind a tree, pressing your back against the bark as snow explodes inches from your shoulder. “I am—” You dodge left. “—simply—” Dodge right. “—tactically retreating!”

Minjeong snorts. “Coward.”

You take a deep breath, then suddenly dash out from behind the tree. Minjeong yelps and backpedals, trying to reload, but you’re faster.

Grabbing her wrist, you spin her around—

“Got you—”

But before you can celebrate, she shoves a handful of snow directly into your face.

You freeze.

She gasps, hands flying to her mouth, eyes wide with shock at what she’s done. Then, as the snow drips from your nose, she bursts into laughter—full, unrestrained, delightfully breathless laughter.

It’s contagious. You start laughing too, shaking the ice from your hair as you both stumble back onto a patch of untouched snow.

The chase, the cold, the sheer ridiculousness of it all—it drains your energy in the best way possible.

Collapsing onto the ground beside each other, your chests heave from exertion, faces still flushed from the cold and laughter. The sky stretches above you, endless and star-studded, the park around you quiet again save for the occasional rustle of the wind.

Minjeong sighs, a contented little exhale. “That was fun.”

You turn your head to look at her. She’s smiling up at the sky, strands of hair falling loose from beneath her beanie. The moonlight catches the edges of her face, making her look softer, serene—completely different from the person who just tried to pelt you into oblivion with snowballs.

“The stars…” she practically whispers, “they’re pretty.”

You’re sure they are. But who are you kidding? You aren’t looking at the stars.

“Yeah,” you begin, “they’re gorgeous.”

She holds her hand up to the sky, then wiggles her fingers, frowning slightly.

“But my hands are freezing,” she mutters, flexing them. “My gloves are soaked.”

You glance down at her hands, then at your own—also wet. A simple observation. A logical conclusion. And yet, the next thought sends a nervous flutter through your chest.

Should you…?

Would that be weird?

Before you can overthink it, you just move.

Pulling off your gloves, you reach over, fingers brushing against hers tentatively before you fully take her hand in yours.

Minjeong gulps.

Oh, no. She’s not saying anything.

Maybe you should say something. Maybe this was a bad idea—

“I, uh—” You swallow. Your voice sounds smaller than you expected. “Your hands are really cold.”

Her fingers are delicate against your palm, ice-cold but soft. You gently press her hand between both of yours, rubbing slow circles over her knuckles, trying to bring warmth back into them.

Minjeong still doesn’t say a word.

Your heartbeat kicks up slightly. You finally glance up to check on her—and immediately feel your entire body freeze.

She’s staring at you.

Bright red.

Like, steam-should-be-coming-out-of-her-ears red.

“…You okay?” you ask, your voice just a little too careful.

Minjeong opens her mouth, but nothing comes out.

Then she looks away so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash. “M-more than okay...”

You let out a soft, slightly breathless chuckle, though you can still feel your own ears burning.

“Right,” you murmur, squeezing her fingers gently.

She stays looking in the opposite direction, but—she doesn’t pull away.

You don’t either.

When your hands are of acceptable warmth, you clear your throat. “It’s getting late. We should probably go home. Get ready for the party.”

Minjeong doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she shifts, inching closer until her head lightly rests against your shoulder.

“M-Minjeong?”

“Can we stay here?” she murmurs, “just for a little longer.”

Your breath hitches.

You should be cold. The snow beneath you is biting through your coat, the chill in the air still lingers against your skin—but with Minjeong curled into you like this, the cold doesn’t seem to matter at all.

You swallow, suddenly unsure where to rest your hands—if you should move, if you should say something. But Minjeong lets herself relax into you. You glance down, only to find her eyes slipping shut, her body curling just into yours. The feeling of her pressed up beside you—even through layers of winter coats, is unmistakable.

Slowly, hesitantly, you move, lifting your arm and slipping it beneath her neck, letting her rest against you more comfortably. Your fingers brush lightly over her shoulder before settling there, holding her in place—not too tight, not too loose, but just enough.

A soft chuckle leaves your lips.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, resting your chin against the top of her beanie.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

Thanks for reading! Part Two coming soon :DD

#aespa winter #minjeong fluff #minjeong x reader #winter fluff #winter x male reader #aespa fluff #aespa #aespa minjeong #kim minjeong

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thewellofastarael · 5 hours ago

Link

The original website has shut down, so here's the original article, published September 10 2015:

"What happens when several thousand distinguished physicists, researchers, and students descend on the nation’s gambling capital for a conference? The answer is "a bad week for the casino"—but you'd never guess why.

The year was 1986, and the American Physical Society’s annual April meeting was slated to be held in San Diego. But when scheduling conflicts caused the hotel arrangements to fall through just a few months before, the conference's organizers were left scrambling to find an alternative destination that could accommodate the crowd—and ended up settling on Las Vegas's MGM grand.

It was an unmitigated disaster for the Grand. Financially, it was the worst week they’d ever had. After the conference was over, APS was politely asked never to return—not just by the MGM Grand, but by the entire city of Las Vegas.

Everyone knows that it's a near-impossibility to beat a casino's odds on a large scale. Lucky individuals' wins are always subsidized by the unlucky masses, and everyone's luck runs out eventually. So what happened? Maybe you’ve seen 21, and you’re picturing teams of sleek geeks using elaborate signaling systems and network analysis to gain a statistical edge over the house in blackjack. That’s been done in real life, but it wasn’t what happened at this meeting.

When I first heard this story (it's practically office folklore at APS), I immediately remembered a documentary I’d seen a while back, where some science-minded gamblers proved that a roulette wheel could reliably be beaten with a timer and a pocket computer…but guess again—they didn’t play roulette, either.

Some physicists have a knack for poker—the quick analytical thinking that lends itself to success in the classroom can translate well to a competitive card game: a Dutch theoretician took home a gold bracelet in the 2010 World Series of Poker. Did a group of the April '86 attendees somehow devise an optimized betting strategy, analyzing risks and payoffs, assigning weights, hedging their bets to come out in the black? Still no—or at least not en masse.

Instead, it turns out that the physicists found the one move guaranteed to provide an edge when the odds are stacked against you: You just don’t play.

See, usually when an organization announces that it's holding a big conference in a certain region, it triggers a bidding war among that area's hotels, and each tries to undersell the others and secure the group's contract to fill up as many rooms as possible. This goes double in a gambling destination like Las Vegas, where hotels have casinos built-in; the Grand doesn't just collect on room charges, it also gets a good portion of however much each guest was planning on taking to the tables. This is so central to the business model of casino hotels that they'll often give rates much lower than what a non-casino hotel could afford to offer, under the assumption that they'll recoup at the tables—it's the same reason you can often find free alcohol and startlingly nice food at all-you-can-eat casino buffets.

So were these physicists just too busy sharing their science, seeing presentations and posters, and catching up on homework to find time for the tables? That's one possibility. The fact that a significant portion of the attendees were broke graduate students probably didn't help matters. On top of that, all the attendees had to have known enough about probability and statistics to recognize the "Monte Carlo* fallacy" at work: When a roulette wheel comes up black ten times in a row, it doesn't make the ball any more or less likely to land in a red slot the next time.

Whatever the case may have been, the week of the '86 APS April meeting found the gaming floor almost completely empty, leaving the casino with its record-low take; in the (probably apocryphal) words of one casino waitress: "They each brought one shirt and a ten-dollar bill, and changed neither."

By staying at a gambling hotel but obstinately refusing to gamble, everyone who booked their reservation with the group effectively had their stay subsidized by guests who were lured in by the chances of a big win—which is probably why Las Vegas hotels never bid on APS conference contracts anymore. The MGM Grand learned a lesson the hard way that week: Physicists do not play dice."

—Stephen Skolnick

Fun fact: after the American Physical Society held their 1986 annual meeting at the MGM Grand, the entire city of Las Vegas politely asked APS to never, ever come back.

Was it because the physicists were super-smart MIT-blackjack-team forerunners who took the casino for everything it was worth? Actually, the complete opposite: they didn’t gamble. At all. After all, they knew their statistics. Most of them were broke grad students who had no intention of throwing away their stipends on fundamental misunderstandings of Poisson processes. As a result the casino gaming floor was dead. Sometimes the winning move really is not to play.

#physics #statistics #las vegas #gambling #ST

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thoughtfulfiction · 12 hours ago

Text

Friend zone? End zone.

Author’s note: Anon requested🧡

July

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

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

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

"What are you talking about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, hesitant but flattered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, I'll be there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, everything was different.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You asked." You bit back a grin.

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

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

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

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

"I want frosted tips."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

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

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

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

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

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

August

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I um—I cried last night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He liked you. He really liked you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

September

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

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

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

“I know.” You shrugged. “But I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you felt it.

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

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

October

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

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

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

Silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not,” Tee muttered, swiping left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he muttered, “Fuck it.”

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

The words knocked the air from your lungs.

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

“Yo, have you seen my phone charger?”

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

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

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

Joe looked like he wanted to murder his best friend.

November

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

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

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

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

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

Joe shrugged. “Seemed important.”

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

Still, nothing was said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About?"

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

You didn’t. You couldn't.

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

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

But then he pulled away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

Then, finally—too quiet— “I don’t.”

You flinched like he’d slapped you.

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

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

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

“You’re such a coward.”

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

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

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

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

And that? That pissed you off even more.

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

Joe didn’t move. He didn’t stop you.

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

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

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

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

December

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

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

You were moving on. Meeting new people.

Like Cory.

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

More than Joe could say for himself.

Joe wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

At all, really.

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

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

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

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

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

Tee nodded. “Big time.”

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

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

“You fumbled twice,” Tee corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, you sealed your fate.

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

And then you saw him.

And Joe saw you with...him.

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

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

You weren’t even looking at him.

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

Joe barely managed a nod, jaw tight.

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

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

Yeah. Joe was pissed.

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

“What the hell are you doing here?”

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

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then be more specific," you bite out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joe didn’t know what to say to that.

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

January

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart clenched painfully. Damn him.

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

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

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

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

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

And against your better judgment, you stepped aside.

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

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

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

You blinked, stunned into silence.

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

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

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

You swallowed hard. “Joe…”

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

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

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

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

Joe nodded instantly. “I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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bytemee · 1 day ago

Text

EVERYTHING I WANT — yu jimin.

"i had finally figured out, you were just around the corner."

synopsis. you’re just the wedding planner for your brother’s wedding, trying to keep it all together. but karina, his fiancée, keeps slipping under your skin. she’s perfect—everything you’ve ever wanted—but she’s marrying your brother.

pairing. brothers!fiance!karina x wedding!planner!fem!reader

warning(s). angst w a mixture of fluff, love triangle, cheating (im sorry), angst with a happy ending.

words. 5.7k

authors note. i remember watching a gay movie like this.

navigation. main masterlist.

karina has a way of capturing the attention of everyone in a room, and her presence alone is enough to make the world pause. she walks in, all bright eyes and effortless grace, and somehow the entire room shifts to accommodate her. it’s almost like she belongs in a space much grander than this, but then, that’s karina—always radiant, always a little untouchable.

you’ve noticed it countless times before—it's part of the reason why your parents are so calm with the idea of your brother marrying her only months after they've met. karina—your brother’s fiancée, the one they think is perfect in every way. karina—the one who is everything they always hoped for in a partner for him. karina—the one who practically begged you to plan her wedding.

you have to admit, they make a beautiful couple. the way karina and your brother stand in the kitchen, laughing over something she said while she chops vegetables, her hands moving easily, like she’s done this a hundred times. your brother’s smiling at her like she’s the only person in the world. it’s all so natural, so effortless. you can’t deny that they love each other—it’s one of those things you just know. like the feeling of the ground beneath your feet or the wind against your skin. it’s just a fact.

it was the first time in a while you've been to their house, but your brother practically forced you into staying at his while you planned the wedding. they don't seem to mind, which is probably good considering you've taken over the living room as a workspace, with papers and decorations and fabric samples spread out across the coffee table and the couch.

but regardless, the two haven't decided on a venue yet, so the planning process is still in full swing. you had a list of about five venues you thought were promising, and you were hoping they'd settle on one soon so you could stop having to lug around your binder everywhere.

karina finishes up her task and sets the knife down, washing her hands off before she turns to you.

she walks over with that signature smile of hers, the one that makes everything seem like it’s shining just a little brighter. “hey, can we talk about the venue options for a sec?” she asks, her voice smooth like velvet, like it always is.

you glance up from the pile of papers in front of you, your gaze meeting hers for a second too long. the way she’s standing there, close enough to reach out and touch, makes it hard to focus. you blink, trying to get your head back in the game. “uh, yeah, sure. what’s on your mind?”

she leans against the back of the couch, her arms crossing lightly over her chest. “i know we’ve got some good options, but…” she hesitates for a moment, as if carefully considering her next words. “i’ve always wanted a wedding on the beach. you know, like those dreamy ones you see in magazines?”

you freeze for a moment, your fingers lingering over the corner of your binder. the beach. you can’t help the pang that hits you when she says it, because it's something you've always imagined for your own wedding one day, not anyone else’s. it’s silly, of course—you shouldn't have gotten so attached to a fantasy. but you can't help it. you'd always imagined a wedding on the beach, with the sun setting over the waves and sand beneath your feet.

she tilts her head a little, as if trying to figure out what's wrong. when you don't say anything, she speaks again, her tone more gentle. "are you okay?"

you try to shake it off, but karina always seems to notice everything. it's a little bit impressive, really. "oh, i'm fine. just a little tired." you quickly speak again before she can question you further. “you know, your fiancé’s pretty set on that greenhouse. it’s a pretty big deal for him.”

she nods, a small frown tugging at her lips. “i know,” she says softly. “i just can’t help but dream of the beach.” she pauses, then her eyes soften, and she adds with a little more playfulness, "i’ll let you handle the tough decisions. you’re the expert here, after all.”

you hate to let her down, but the odds of convincing your brother to change his mind are low. the greenhouse was his idea, and it means a lot to him, since your father married your mom there years ago. he had talked about wanting to recreate that day, the way the light filtered in through the glass, the flowers all around. his eyes had sparkled as he spoke, like he could imagine the entire scene unfolding before him. you couldn’t bring yourself to say no, not when he had been so excited.

you give a small laugh. “i’m just the wedding planner. you’re the one who has to live with the choice.”

she grins at you before walking away.

but even though you tell yourself it won't be your fault if she doesn't get her dream wedding, the guilt doesn't go away. you just hope she won't hate you for not being able to deliver the perfect day she's been waiting for.

you watch as she heads back over to the kitchen, your gaze lingering on her a little longer than it should. her smile is bright as ever, the one you're not sure you've ever seen her without, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

you swallow, then return to your work.

the venue. you can't get distracted. you're good at your job. you can do this.

the next few days pass in a flurry of phone calls and emails, and you're barely keeping track of which venue you're supposed to be going to see next. you've visited a handful, but it seems like they've all had the same issue—they don't have the space for the kind of wedding karina's dreaming of.

the pressure is starting to wear on you. you’ve been juggling so many details, from flowers to photographers to caterers, but every venue just feels off in one way or another. some are too big, some too small. others don’t have the kind of beachy vibe karina’s been dreaming of, and you can tell she’s starting to get a little discouraged.

you can see the way her shoulders slump when another place doesn’t meet her expectations, the way she tries to mask her disappointment with that perfect smile of hers. it’s hard to watch. but you also know this is her dream, her wedding. she deserves to have everything she’s envisioned for years.

“i swear, if i see one more ballroom…” you mutter under your breath, flipping through another round of emails, trying to see if any of the new suggestions could work.

karina, seated across from you in the café, lets out a small laugh. “you’re telling me. but we’ve got to keep looking, right?”

you look up, meeting her gaze for the first time in a while. she looks exhausted, her makeup a little faded from a long day of venue tours, but her smile is as warm as ever. it makes your heart ache.

you swallow, then turn back to your phone. "yeah. yeah, we do." you take a sip of your drink, not even removing your eyes from the screen. "i've been hearing a lot of good things about this one place, though."

karina leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. "which one?"

but before you can reply, a giggle leaves her lips, and she points to the side of your nose. "oh my god, you've got whipped cream on your nose. let me…"

her hand reaches out, and then she's touching you, her thumb brushing over the tip of your nose, sending shivers down your spine. she pulls her hand back, a little whipped cream on her thumb.

she smiles. "got it."

you blink, and your brain short-circuits for a second. her touch was so fleeting, but the warmth lingers.

she doesn't notice, already turned back to your phone ready to see the venue you were muttering about.

you exhale. the venue. right. focus.

and then, it happens.

when you get back home, an hour later you hear it from the other room—a loud argument, your brother's voice booming, and karina's pleading for him to just listen. your eyes widen. you'd never heard her raise her voice like that before.

they’ve always been so perfect together, but now, the disagreement over the wedding venue seems to be pushing things too far. you can’t make out the exact words, but you catch a few—the beach, the greenhouse, and your name a couple of times. the door slams shortly after, and everything falls silent.

you glance at the door leading to the hallway, torn between going to see what’s going on and staying out of it. the last thing you want is to get caught in the middle of their argument, but part of you can't help but feel concerned. this isn’t like them—karina, always the picture of composure, and your brother, usually so patient. it doesn’t add up.

you hear footsteps and then a quiet knock at the door. "are you awake?"

you take a deep breath. "yeah, come in."

the door opens, and karina walks in, looking as stunning as ever. her face is still flushed from the argument, but her hair is swept to the side, the light catching on her earrings. even in a moment like this, she's effortlessly beautiful.

"hey," you say softly, motioning toward the couch. "are you okay?"

she sits down beside you, her body relaxing a little, like a weight has been lifted from her shoulders. she nods, taking a deep breath before speaking. "i'm fine. we're fine."

you tilt your head, not fully believing her. you've been friends for years, after all. you can tell when she's holding something back. "are you sure? because i heard—"

"we're fine," she repeats, a little more firmly.

you nod, but you still feel unsure. it's clear they need some time to themselves, and you can't force her to tell you what's going on. “you know,” you say, shifting beside her, “if you need a break, we could do something completely different. a distraction. a moment just for you.”

she looks at you, eyes wide, clearly intrigued by the offer. “like what?”

a slow grin spreads across your face. “let’s get food for starters. and then…"

she cuts you off before you can finish. "as long as it involves wine, i'm in."

the smile is back, and your heart aches with it. you've missed seeing her smile, the way her eyes crinkle at the edges, her whole body seeming lighter. it's a feeling you never want to let go of.

without missing a beat, you get up and grab your keys. “perfect. let's go!"

you hold your hand out, and her fingers are warm in yours as you lead her out the door.

the two of you end up parked in front of a small, neon-lit burger joint tucked away on a quiet street. it’s one of those old-school places with a bright red roof and a hand-painted menu board by the drive-thru. it looks like it hasn't changed much since it was built decades ago, but that's exactly why you love it.

karina’s sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat, the bottle of wine you impulsively grabbed resting between you. you’d managed to snag a couple of burgers and fries to go, and now the two of you are tucked away in the car, sharing fries like you’re the only people in the world.

“this is so random,” she says, laughing softly. she’s still got a bit of a flush from earlier—whether from the wine or the argument, you’re not sure. but for now, you try not to think about it. you don't want to ruin the moment.

“that’s what makes it perfect,” you reply, passing her a fry. she takes it with a smile, your fingers brushing briefly. your heart trips over itself at the contact, and you reach for the bottle of wine to take another sip. it’s not the fanciest vintage, but it’s doing the job.

karina takes the bottle next, swiping at the neck before drinking straight from it. when she lowers it, her eyes are sparkling with something mischievous. “i always liked the idea of writing my vows on something unconventional,” she says suddenly, resting her head against the seat. “like in the movies. you know, scribbled on the back of a napkin or a burger wrapper. something spontaneous and real.”

you can’t help but laugh. “we’ve got burger wrappers right here.”

her eyes light up. “you’re kidding.”

“i’m not.”

she sets down the bottle and grabs the crumpled wrappers from the bag. “alright. let’s do it. right here, right now. our mock wedding.”

you raise an eyebrow. this was not how you thought the night was going to go, but then again, karina has always been full of surprises. she looks so excited at the idea; you can't bring yourself to say no. you're already in this deep, after all.

you grab a pen from the glove compartment, the tipsy energy between you growing contagious. you hand it over, and karina carefully smooths out one of the wrappers on her lap.

“alright,” she declares, biting back a grin. “i vow to always share my fries with you. even the crispy ones.”

you snort. “that’s a big promise.”

“and i vow to never judge you for eating burgers at midnight,” she adds, her grin widening.

“okay, my turn,” you say, leaning in. “i vow to always keep you stocked up on wine and burgers. and fries. all the good stuff. just in case of an emergency, of course. or for a spontaneous road trip. whichever comes first, i guess."

you're both giggling, and then her smile softens. she looks at you with those eyes, and for a moment, the rest of the world falls away. then her expression shifts. she takes a deep breath, fingers toying with the pen. “one more,” she says, her voice quieter now. “i vow to always be someone you can turn to, no matter what. even when things get messy or complicated.”

her eyes are still on yours, and you can't bring yourself to break the contact. you feel like the air has been knocked out of your lungs, and it's almost too much, too fast.

you finally manage to get the words out, your voice coming out a little strained. "i promise too."

karina smiles softly, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from your face. “let’s go somewhere,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

“where?” you ask, still breathless.

she glances at the horizon, where the stars are just beginning to scatter across the night sky. “the beach.”

without another word, you put the car in drive and head toward the coast. the streets are quiet, the hum of the tires against the road the only sound as the town fades behind you. it feels like the rest of the world doesn’t exist—just you, karina, and the open road.

when you arrive, the beach is deserted, bathed in moonlight and the soft crashing of waves. you both kick off your shoes and walk toward the shoreline, the sand cool beneath your feet. karina stops just shy of the water, turning to face you.

“alright,” she says, holding out her hand. “let’s make this official.”

you laugh, taking her hand. “this is the most spontaneous fake wedding i’ve ever been a part of.”

her grin is wide, a little wild, like she’s already planning something outrageous. “just wait until our real wedding. then it’ll really be a show.”

the words hit you harder than expected—our real wedding. your mind flashes with an image: karina walking down the aisle, her dress swishing with every elegant step, her smile lighting up the whole room.

karina squeezes your hand gently, bringing you back to reality. "are you ready?"

you give her a tiny nod. “i’m ready.”

she turns to face you, her smile dimming just enough to make the moment feel serious. she takes a steadying breath before starting. “i vow to always share my fries with you—even the crispy ones.”

you grin. "i vow to not get jealous when you share your fries with someone else."

"that's a fair point." she pauses for a moment, glancing at the moon overhead. when she speaks again, her voice is softer. "i vow to not forget about all the nights we've stayed up talking, the sun just starting to rise, and how i could listen to your voice forever. and i vow to always be someone you can count on, no matter what."

her words make your heart ache. you swallow, trying to push down the feeling. "i vow to never give up, even when things get tough. even when everything's changing around us. and i vow to always be a place you can run to."

the words hang between you for a moment, and you feel like the whole world has stopped. everything feels surreal, like a dream, the kind you're afraid of waking up from. then she steps closer, so close you can feel the warmth radiating off her. her next words are softer, more serious, the playfulness stripped away. “do you vow to take me to the best burger joints at midnight?”

your voice is quieter now too. “i do.”

“do you vow to share your fries with me, even the crispy ones?”

“i do.”

she takes a small, shaky breath, her gaze locked on yours. “and do you vow to always be my friend? to stand by me, even when things get hard or messy?”

your throat tightens, but somehow you manage to speak. “i do.”

karina’s lips twitch, but she doesn’t smile fully. there's something vulnerable in her expression, like she's revealing a piece of herself she's never shown before. "do you promise to always remember tonight? how special this moment is?"

"i do."

she nods, her eyes shining. "good. because i do, too."

her gaze drops to your lips, and you realize what she's doing a second too late. before you can even process what's happening, her mouth is on yours, warm and soft and sweet. it's the kind of kiss you feel all the way down to your toes, the kind that makes the rest of the world disappear.

it's everything and nothing all at once.

then the moment passes, and she's pulling away, a little breathless. "i'm sorry. i just…"

you blink, trying to find the right words, but nothing comes out.

she swallows, then steps back, her cheeks flushed. "i'm sorry, i don't know what came over me. that was stupid. we should go."

she turns and walks off, her footsteps echoing through the darkness. you watch her leave, not daring to say anything, because if you speak, you'll break the spell. you'll wake up from this dream, and it'll all be gone, and this moment will be lost forever.

karina speedwalks to your car, her ears hot and her head spinning. what the hell did i just do? she opens the car door and climbs in, her body feeling weightless. the kiss was an impulse, a split-second decision, and now she's left wondering why the hell she thought it was a good idea.

you get in the car a moment later, your expression unreadable. you're silent for a few beats, then you clear your throat. "here take my jacket," you say, reaching over to drape it around her shoulders. "you look cold."

her chest tightens. of course, you're being kind and sweet. god, why did she have to ruin the moment?

she takes the jacket, but it does nothing to warm the chill that's seeped into her bones. she's so confused. one minute, she's getting engaged, and the next, she's kissing you, the one person who's never given her a reason to doubt. she feels like she's falling apart, piece by piece.

"let's get you home," you say quietly, starting the car.

karina nods, her eyes focused on the window. the rest of the ride is silent, neither of you daring to say a word.

a month passed since that night—the kiss that left you spinning and karina’s unexpected confession. you’d both fallen into a strange rhythm after that. conversations were shorter, more careful, as if the words had to be handled with gloves. and though things seemed okay on the surface, there was a distance that neither of you knew how to bridge.

she was still okay with the greenhouse. you’d finalized every last detail together, but it felt like neither of you were talking about what really mattered. instead, you both threw yourselves into the wedding planning like it was the only way to keep moving forward.

it was just after midnight when you found yourself back in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. it had been a long day, and your mind was still racing. you stood there for a while, sipping slowly, mind wandering.

the front door creaked open. your brother stumbled in, his suit rumpled, tie hanging loosely around his neck. his eyes were bloodshot, and he reeked of whiskey and something faintly floral—perfume. you could guess what had happened.

“company celebration,” he muttered, not meeting your eyes. “big news… big, big news.”

you wrapped an arm around him and helped him upstairs. he leaned on you heavily, his usually confident demeanor dulled by the alcohol. when you sat him down on the edge of your bed, you noticed it—lipstick stains on the collar of his shirt, faint but undeniable.

your stomach twisted. you swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. it was none of your business. after all, she cheated as well...with you.

after he passed out, you quietly shut the door and went back downstairs. there was no sleep to be found, not when your thoughts were tangled in the events of what's happened over the past three months—the kiss, karina’s sudden agreement to the greenhouse wedding, the lipstick stains. it was too much.

you sat at the dining room table and pulled out your laptop. the wedding planning documents filled the screen, emails flooding in with suggestions and changes. you worked mindlessly, letting the repetition of it all keep your thoughts at bay.

the hours bled into one another, and before you knew it, pale sunlight was breaking through the windows. your eyes burned, your muscles ached, but you couldn’t stop.

footsteps behind you made you freeze.

karina.

her hair was a mess of loose waves, and she wore one of those oversized pajama shirts she loved. she had two mugs of coffee in hand, the familiar scent of hazelnut filling the room. without a word, she placed one in front of you.

“you’ve been up all night,” she said quietly.

“i had things to do,” you answered, not meeting her eyes.

karina sighed, taking in the dark circles under your eyes and the tension in your shoulders. “you’re burning yourself out.”

when you didn’t say anything, she walked around the table and stood behind you. her hands found your shoulders, fingers pressing gently into the knots there. she massaged in slow circles, her thumbs working out the tightness you hadn’t even noticed.

her voice was soft as she spoke, barely more than a whisper. "you should get some sleep. you can't keep doing this."

but you were too tired, too worn down, to respond. you couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of her hands on your shoulders, the warmth of her touch sinking into your skin.

she leaned down, her breath tickling your ear. "can we talk?"

"yeah," you managed.

karina let go and moved to the seat across from you. she looked like she was struggling with something, the same look from the night at the beach, when she had asked you to promise her to remember. her fingers tapped on the mug. you could tell she was stalling, trying to decide what to say, but eventually, the words came.

"i'm sorry."

you were sorry too. for so many things, but you didn't say them out loud. instead, you just nodded.

"i never meant for this to happen," she said. "but it's all getting a little too much."

you were exhausted. tired of everything—the wedding, the kiss, the feelings. tired of being the planner. tired of pretending everything was fine when it wasn't.

karina's gaze dropped to her hands, her voice small. "i didn't mean to make things weird between us. i just didn't know what to do."

"it's okay," you replied, because it was all you could say.

"it's not," she insisted. "you're my best friend. i don't want to lose that."

she was right. you were her best friend. she was supposed to be marrying your brother, not making out with you at midnight. the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

"we'll get through this. together." you tried to sound convincing, but it fell flat.

"will we?" her voice was barely audible. "you've been pushing me away for weeks. i can tell."

you shook your head, but it was pointless. the truth was staring you in the face, and it wasn't pretty.

karina sighed, her gaze lifting from the table to meet yours. "i'm sorry. i don't want things to be awkward between us. i don't want this to change things."

her eyes were filled with such honesty and vulnerability, it made your chest ache. you wanted to reach out, hold her, and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but you couldn't. you couldn't bring yourself to lie.

you rubbed your hands over your face, trying to ease the tension building behind your eyes. the words were stuck, clawing at your throat, desperate to escape. but what could you say?everything was so tangled.

“i’m not pushing you away,” you finally managed, though it felt hollow. “i just… don’t know how to handle all this.”

she gave you a weak smile, but her eyes were still sad.

the silence stretched between you, growing heavier with each passing moment. neither of you knew what to say.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” she said suddenly, her voice trembling.

your stomach twisted, and you had to look away. “you’re not hurting me.”

it was a lie, and you both knew it. but what good would the truth do?

karina sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. she looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept in days. maybe she hadn’t. “i just want us to be okay. like before.”

“before,” you repeated, the word tasting bitter on your tongue. before everything. before the kiss. before you saw your brother stumble in last night, lipstick stains betrayed his lies.

she nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "yeah, before. like we promised in our vows."

you let out a breath. was she really bringing this up now? "our fake vows."

karina flinched, as if your words had physically struck her. she looked at you, her eyes pleading. "you promised to always remember that night. that's not nothing."

you closed your eyes, trying to block out the memory. it was a mistake. a stupid, impulsive decision. one you shouldn't have made. one you shouldn't be thinking about.

"look, it's fine. we'll just forget it ever happened. like we're supposed to."

"are we?"

you stared at her, your throat tightening. "yes. because that's what's best. for everyone."

she swallowed, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. "okay. if that's what you want."

"it is." the words were heavy, weighing on your chest, crushing the air from your lungs.

"alright. then i guess we should go back to planning."

she forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. the conversation was over.

and that was it. you tried not to think about the kiss or the way her hand had felt in yours. but the memories lingered, refusing to let go.

the day of the wedding arrived. you stood at the back of the greenhouse, feeling out of place as the carefully chosen flowers, delicate white drapes, and twinkling fairy lights filled the space with a sense of serenity that felt foreign to you. everything about this moment was supposed to be beautiful, perfect, just as your brother had imagined. but you couldn’t shake the unease that knotted in your stomach.

the ceremony was supposed to feel like a celebration, a milestone in their lives. but it wasn’t. the sight of your brother, standing at the altar with the priest, waiting for karina, made something inside you tighten. he was smiling, his hands clasped together in anticipation. but the thought of him with her—knowing everything that had happened between the two of you—suddenly felt wrong. not to mention what he did himself.

and then, she appeared.

karina entered, her arm linked with your father’s, walking down the aisle with the grace of someone who belonged in a dream. the flowing ivory gown clung to her figure in a way that made your breath catch. the soft music playing in the background seemed to fade as you watched her approach, unable to tear your eyes away.

her gaze flickered to you for the briefest of moments. it was only a glance, but it held so much. the quiet acknowledgment that things weren’t the way they were supposed to be. that this wasn’t how it was supposed to feel.

you could barely breathe. you had promised to be strong, to be there for her. but seeing her like this, walking down the aisle toward your brother, was impossible. all the promises you had made, all the words you had told her in the days leading up to this, suddenly felt so hollow. she wasn’t yours. she never had been, and yet, everything inside you screamed that she should be.

you couldn’t stay.

without thinking, you turned and quietly slipped out of the greenhouse, avoiding the curious glances of your family. the sounds of the ceremony, the murmurs of the guests, faded as you walked, faster and faster, until you were outside, out of the view of the guests, heading straight for the beach.

the water was cool, the sand soft beneath your feet, the gentle breeze soothing. but it wasn't enough. you could still feel the ache in your chest, the heaviness that had settled there the moment you saw karina walking down the aisle.

you had been so certain that you could do this, that you could keep your promise and be there for her, no matter what. but now, standing on the beach, the waves washing over your feet, you realize how foolish it had been to think that.

you sank to the sand, burying your face in your hands. how had things gotten this far? how had everything become so tangled, so complicated, so fast? and why did it feel like your heart was being torn in two?

you were torn in so many directions, your mind spinning with thoughts of karina, of the kiss, of your brother, and of everything that had led to this moment. you wanted to scream, to let the confusion and frustration pour out of you, but you couldn’t. you couldn’t make sense of it all.

everything felt like it was unraveling, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the hurt, the guilt, the love that you couldn’t seem to let go of—it all washed over you, suffocating you. you loved her. you had always loved her, but it was wrong. she was marrying your brother. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. you weren’t supposed to be the one to feel this way.

but the feeling was there, as real as the sand beneath your feet and the wind against your skin. you couldn't deny it, no matter how hard you tried.

"y/n."

your heart skipped a beat. you looked up, and there she was, standing at the edge of the sand. karina, still in her wedding dress, the fabric flowing around her as she stepped toward you, barefoot.

"y/n," she repeated, her voice soft, almost pleading.

you were frozen, unable to move, unable to speak. your throat tightened; the words stuck.

“what are you doing here?” you managed to ask, your voice wavering.

“i couldn’t let you go,” she said, her voice breathless. “i can’t let you walk away from me. not like this.”

you stood up, unsure of what to say, but before you could form any words, karina was running toward you, her wedding dress trailing behind her. she didn’t stop until she was right in front of you, her hands trembling as she reached for yours.

"i can’t marry him," she whispered, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "not when i feel like this. not when it’s you i want."

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. your mind raced. "karina, this isn’t—"

"i don’t care," she interrupted. "i can’t pretend anymore. i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner. i should’ve never let you go, even when i knew how wrong it was. but i can’t marry him when i’m in love with you."

you blinked, staring at her. in love with you. she was in love with you. the words echoed in your head, and you couldn't find the strength to speak.

"y/n, please. say something."

karina’s face crumpled, and she stepped closer, her hands trembling as she cupped your face. “please,” she whispered, “don’t let me lose you. you're everything i want."

her touch was warm, and you couldn't help but lean into it. she was so close, and you could feel her heartbeat, her breathing, her warmth. it was intoxicating, and before you knew what you were doing, your lips met hers, gentle and tender, as if she was afraid of breaking you.

but you couldn't break. not when she was kissing you like this. not when her lips were so soft, and her arms were around your waist, pulling you closer. it felt like the world was shifting, the ground giving way beneath your feet. but she was there, holding onto you, her grip tight and desperate, like she was afraid of losing you.

the kiss deepened, and everything else fell away. all you could feel was her. all you could think about was how right it felt, how perfect it was, and how this was the moment you had been waiting for. you were home, in her arms, and nothing else mattered.

the kiss broke, and karina pulled back, her breathing ragged. her eyes were bright, full of emotion, and you knew yours were the same.

"i love you," she whispered, her voice cracking. "i love you, and i'm sorry i didn't realize it sooner."

the words washed over you, and for the first time, everything felt right.

"i love you too," you breathed, not caring that it was wrong or that you shouldn't be saying it. you couldn't stop yourself, and the feeling of finally letting the words out was overwhelming. "you're everything i want…and more."

her eyes widened, and then a smile tugged at her lips, wide and bright, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. she kissed you again, fierce and passionate, and you could feel her joy, her relief, her love. it was the kind of kiss that made your heart swell, that made you feel like you were floating, and nothing could ever come between you.

"i'm yours," she whispered against your lips, her voice breaking. "i'll always be yours."

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crowliphale · 3 days ago

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ALRIGHT.... after roughly three days and one complete re-work, i think i can now proudly show off my silly sims creation...

Madrick Roslof's House

(disclaimer: i know it's shown to be a cutesie little cottage in the module but hush i have an overactive imagination)

I took some HEAVY, HEAVY inspiration from @sweet-reaper's fic What Lies Between Us (as in, it was supposed to be a recreation but i'm more than 100% sure i messed some things up) so go give it tons of love!!!

Tour below the cut!

The Outside (front & back)

I'll admit I'm not the greatest exterior decorator, but I'm still happy with how it came out! I was going for a building that wasn't constructed professionally, but rather by the people living in it. Personalized, asymmetrical, kinda like my grandparents house...

The Foyer/Livingroom

You'll notice right away that Roslof has an absolutely chaotic variety of furniture, and that's completely intentional! I wanted it to feel like this house has been lived in for decades, becoming more of a place to store all of Roslof's trinkets rather than an organized space. For sims reasons I gave him a TV, but if it were purely dnd-based that wouldn't be there lol. The dollhouse is there for Hootsie, who's a toddler in my game!

The Kitchen

Kremy's baby. He practically lives in this room. Despite it being Roslof's house and kitchen, I REALLY leaned into the fact that this is Kremy's space. It's a lot cleaner than some other parts of the house, and feels slightly more updated while keeping that awesome vintage vibe. Not a ton to say, it's probably the 2nd most accurate to my initial vision while reading reaper's fic.

The Dining Room

Not a ton to say here! I honestly didn't even intend on adding a dining room at first, but realized i had an empty room that served no purpose, so why not make it a dining room? I'm really happy with the eclectic collection of chairs, and I felt like a genius for putting one to the side after I replaced it with Hootsie's high chair

~ UPSTAIRS ~

The Guest Room (currently Kremy & Gideon's room)

The MOST accurate to my vision while reading reaper's fic, I think the only part I wish I could change is that the table in the back is meant to be a vanity table. I also would've added more clutter and the shrine to the Baron, but I kinda just don't have the space/CC for that </3 otherwise I love this room!!

Roslof's Room (formerly, now deceased)

This one's the most lackluster in my opinion, I really didn't have a clear picture of what his room looks like. It's also likely getting changed in the future as Hootsie grows up--Maybe I'll move Gideon and Kremy into here at some point... either way it isn't awful, I wouldn't mind spending my final days in here.

Guest Room 2 (Frost & Gricko & Hootsie's room)

I think this is where I strayed the most from reaper's story. Not totally sure how the arrangement is in the fic, i haven't reread it in a minute, but I know I typically make the three other guys all bunk together... but as you can see, this room is WAY too small for that. So instead it's just Frost & Gricko & Hootsie. Didn't put a ton of effort in, but that's mainly because I don't think Frost or Gricko have very many worldly possessions to their names.

~ BASEMENT ~

The Workshop (Gideon's baby)

I literally just DON'T have the CC to make this work that great, but I tried to still arrange things the same way they looked in my mind! Again not much to say, without the proper CC it kinda just became a filler room.

The Storage Closet (Torbek's room)

Poor Torbek... FJDSKFS I'm actually so sorry I put him down here partially as a joke and partially because I couldn't remember where he sleeps in the fic. and because I was pretty much entirely out of space anywhere else. Sorry big guy, I gave you a night light as consolation

~ THE GREENHOUSE ~

The Greenhouse (the greenhouse)

THE GREENHOUSE!! It's my absolute favorite part of the build it's just downright gorgeous, I tried so so hard to make it work despite not having the correct CC/DLC, and I'm super happy with how it came out!! Literally all I would add is some hanging planters from the banisters this thing is great.

and... that's the house! Hooray! Not sure how else to end a post like this, so here's the worst photo ever of how the guys look (+ toddler Hootsie)

I'll probably make another post like this but for the family's closeups/outfits/traits if I notice enough interest for it.. anyway tho hope you liked my silly sims build!! go read reaper's stuff its actually peak i'm so serious!!

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ouaw #once upon a witchlight #legends of avantris #do i tag this as the characters too.. its not really focused on them #nahh i'll leave em out #i'll tag coalecroux tho cuz the fic is directly coalecroux related #coalecroux #ok scampering away now

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squishygirl46 · 12 hours ago

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Hi everyone, this is a story about my deepest fantasies and dreams. It will be written about me Let me know if you like it. Part one: the beginning.

God, I don't know where I am, some man left a camera in the room and said I had to speak my mind on it or I would be killed. The last thing I remember is leaving the house to go to the store. Now I'm here and I don't know what's going on, I'm so scared….. There's only one dim lamp in this room, a big bed, a toilet, a speaker on the wall and a door. I'm probably going to be killed or raped, I don't know, I'm so scared. Suddenly a masked man came into the room, carrying a scale and a camera.

- Hi said: Get on the scale and take off your clothes. I obediently did everything he ordered. Completely naked I stood on the scale which said 45 kilograms(99 pounds). -You're skinny, now stand against the wall and turn sideways. I went to the wall and turned around, then he told me to stand in front of him and he was taking pictures. What a shame… But I can't help it, I'm so scared. After this strange photo shoot and weighing, the man left. I don't know how much time had passed, but I was very hungry. Luckily the man came back soon and brought a huge tray of food on a gurney. Fried chicken, potatoes, meat pies, pancakes, brownies and cake. There were also several bottles of soda and some pills.

-Whoa, why so much food, I can't eat that much. -No one's asking you. He told me to take two pills and a soda. After I drank them he left and closed the door behind him. I started eating and as usual I got full very quickly, literally after a couple wings my little tummy was full and I laid down to rest and fell asleep, I don't know how long I slept but after I woke up the food was still there and I was very very very hungry…. I started eating again. A few wings, then a brownie, washed it all down with soda, then wings again, then potatoes and then soda again… I could feel my stomach filling up, but the hunger didn't go away, and only after 30 minutes of eating and stopped for breath…. -Oh, God, what was that just now? -Ufff. I mumbled. I looked at the tray, it was covered in leftovers. I put my head down and saw that my stomach was protruding very much, as if I had been inflated like a car tire…. And it was so hard. I was very thin and this protuberance really stood out. I laid back on the bed and dozed off….. When I woke up, the tray was gone, but on the wall were my pictures and a graph with my weight written on it. God, what does that mean, am I being fattened up? I've always worked hard on my figure, I don't want to be fat, I need to exercise to burn off the calories from that gluttony. I got out of bed and started doing exercises, 50 squats, 10 push-ups and 50 abs, then I rested and did them again.

-Fuuuuh, now we can have a little snack, as long as we don't eat too much. Right after these words, this man came in again with a tray, this time there were mountains of fast food, 5 big burgers, a bucket of fries, wings, nuggets, and 2 bottles of coke. -Oh my god, I'm not allowed to eat that, I've always avoided fast food in my life-. But the man silently handed me two pills. -No, I won't take them, they make me unable to stop eating! In response to these words, he just took them and put them in my mouth, then clamped my nose and poured cola into my mouth, I had to swallow them…. -Good appetite- he said and left. I decided that a little fast food wouldn't hurt my figure, especially if I kept doing exercises, or even more exercises, yes, it wouldn't hurt. I took the smallest burger I could find and took a bite. -God, this is so good,” I said with my mouth full. And a wave of warmth spread through my body. -Yeah, one burger wouldn't hurt me. -Yeah. But I couldn't stop at one, as soon as I finished it I took a Coke to drink, I thought I'd just drink a little bit, but I started gulping it down greedily, like I hadn't had a drink in a year. I only stopped when I had half a bottle. Right after that, I went on a food binge. A burger, another one, fries, nuggets, all dipped in sauce and swallowed before I could chew. After 30 minutes of such piggishness, I felt nauseous and almost threw up. I decided to lie down and rest.

-I ate a ton of food again, my God, what am I turning into, but ok, I'll exercise some more and everything will be fine. I put my hand on my warm, bloated tummy and fell asleep. When I woke up I thought it would be a good idea to exercise. Like last time I got up and started squatting, but I stopped at 30 reps and sat on the bed…. The leftovers were beckoning me… -Okay, I've done enough, I can have a snack. I finished everything on the tray and went back to sleep… It went on like that for about two weeks

#stuffing #get me fatter #stuffed feedee #gaining weight on purpose #fat #chubby #getting bigger #belly #weight gain #chubbiness

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kkoga · 3 days ago

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Masterlist ! next !

WC — 1.72k

Creds to @cafekitsune for the divider!!

Chapter 4 — Do I wanna know?

After successfully walking around for the past 27 minutes, you knew it was almost time.

''It's almost time.'' Sophia softly said, gently caressing your pinky with hers. You bit your lip.

Saying you wanted this to end was for some reason, a lie. You missed Sophia. Greatly. You had no idea why the two of you had drifted away all of a sudden, and now that you had seemingly filled the gap that separated the both of you, you had no intent to ever let go.

''Yeah, we should head back to the booth now. My friends are probably there.'' Sophia nodded, an unreadable expression on her face.

As the two of you walked back to the booth, a loud sound came from the speakers.

''Okay, okay, mic test mic test!'' Karina, a member of the school's band, was currently in the middle of the stage, along with the rest of her members.

''Alright, so today, we'll be closing the event off with a highly suggested song, Lover is a day by cuco!'' You noticed Sophia's eyes shine.

''Time's changed, we're different, but my mind still says redundant things, Can I not think?'' As Giselle sang into the mic, Sophia now had a somewhat bittersweet smile displayed on her pretty face.

'Will you love this part of me? My lover is, a day I can't forget'' It was weird. The both of you had just stopped. Neither of you moved from your position. The timer for your love lock had ring a long time ago.

''Furthering my distance from you. Realistically I can't leave now, But I'm okay as long as you, keep me from going crazy, keep me from going crazy'' You found Sophia's eyes. You've never really thought about how pretty her hazel brown eyes looked. Or how nice and glossy her lips were. You didn't think about how kissable her nose looked either.

As the lyrics kept going on, eventually, Sophia had faced you. She sent you a somewhat sad smile. Why was she sad? You didn't know. A tear welled up, her eyes now as glossy as her lips. You panicked. Why was she crying?

''Sophia?'' You pulled her in with a side hug, ''Are you okay? What's wrong?''

''No, no it's fine.'' Sophia pulled away, away from your comfort. Your eyes fell.

''I just— I have something to tell you, Y/n.'' Her tone was serious, but her voice cracked.

''Okay… I'm listening, Sophia.''

''You remember when you told me you had started dating Jay?'' You nodded as Sophia broke your eye contact.

''You were so happy. So excited. But you know how I felt?''

''Sophia…'' You thought she liked Jay. Did you unknowingly drive her away because you hadn't know she liked your ex?

''I felt angry. I felt sad, even though I had no right to. I can't control who you can and can't date. But a part of me just always wished it was me.'' Guilt clouded your mind as you clutched onto your shirt.

''You liked Jay? Sophia I'm so—'' She met your eyes once more, a tear falling down her cheek.

''No, Y/n.''

''Then why?''

''I liked you, you dumbass.''

You froze. Did Sophia just confess to you? Sophia let out a small giggle, not out of happiness, but out of sadness.

''I— I'm sorry. I just couldn't hold it in anymore.''

''Since when?''

It had been your idea, as most reckless things usually were.

"Come on, just this once," you had whispered, fingers wrapped around Sophia’s wrist, eyes alight with mischief. The classroom had felt like a cage, the teacher droning on about equations you didn’t care for, and Sophia—well, Sophia had been staring at the clock, her mind somewhere else.

"I don’t know, Y/n…" she had hesitated, chewing on her lip.

You had grinned. "Live a little, Laforteza."

And maybe that was what did it. Maybe that was why, after a long moment, she had let out a sigh, rolled her eyes, and let you pull her out the side door.

At first, it had felt freeing.

Skipping across the empty courtyard, giggling as if you’d just committed the world’s greatest heist, brushing shoulders as you whispered about nothing and everything.

Then, of course, the sky had decided to ruin it all.

Thunder rumbled above, and in the next instant, rain was coming down hard.

Sophia shrieked, instinctively grabbing your arm. "Are you kidding me?"

You, on the other hand, had just thrown your head back and laughed.

"You have the worst luck," she had groaned, trying and failing to shield herself with her hands.

"Our luck," you corrected, shaking your head like a wet dog and making her yelp as droplets flew her way.

Sophia had tried to glare at you, but it was difficult when she was completely drenched. Her white sneakers—once pristine—were now soaked through, darkened by the water.

"My shoes!" she gasped, lifting one foot in horror. "Y/n, my shoes—"

"Oh my God, they’re just shoes, Soph—"

"They were a birthday gift from my mom!" she huffed, stomping her foot—only for water to splash up onto both of you.

You had winced. "Okay, okay, I get it. My bad."

She was still pouting, hugging herself to keep warm, her hair dripping into her eyes. And then—just as a peace offering—you had sighed dramatically.

"Alright," you said, shaking your head with a lopsided grin. "One day, I’ll buy you new ones. Happy?"

Sophia had blinked, surprised by your sudden sincerity. "Promise?"

Without hesitation, you reached out, pinky extended. "Promise."

She had stared at your hand for a second before linking her pinky with yours, locking the deal in place.

And in that moment, something shifted.

The rain blurred everything around you—students peeking from classroom windows, teachers too distracted to notice you two standing in the middle of the storm. It felt like there was no one else, just you and her, drenched and shivering but laughing.

And for the first time, Sophia noticed you.

Not just as the reckless girl who pulled her into trouble. Not just as a friend who made skipping class feel like an adventure.

No—she noticed the way your eyes softened when you looked at her. The way you had made that promise without hesitation. The way your grin—so easy, so effortless—made her stomach flutter in a way that felt dangerous.

It was ridiculous, really. Falling for someone in the rain? That only happened in movies.

But standing there, with your pinkies still hooked and your laughter still ringing in her ears—

Sophia thought maybe, just maybe, she was in trouble.

And then—she smiled.

Not her usual polite, composed smile. Not the amused smirk she sometimes threw your way when you were being ridiculous. No, this was something softer, something quieter. Something that made your chest feel too small for your heart.

It was then that you realized: she looked beautiful in the rain.

And it was also then that you realized—

You could never have her.

Not in the way you wanted. Not in the way you sometimes imagined when your mind wandered a little too far, a little too deep.

Sophia was… well, she was Sophia. Good. Smart. Put-together. The kind of girl people dreamed about.

And you? You were just you.

The thought settled like a weight in your stomach, and as she shivered beside you, laughing through the downpour, you forced yourself to laugh with her— like nothing had changed.

''…really?''

''Really.''

''I'm sorry for confessing so suddenly Y/n but, it's been months since we've genuinely hung out. Months since I've started missing your touch, missing your voice, missing you.'' Sophia held your hands, clutching onto them like there was no tomorrow.

''I don't need an answer now, L/n. But I'll need one eventually.'' Sophia sent you a smile filled with pain, longing, and love.

By now, your school's band, Aespa, had started singing a different song.

''Do I wanna know? If this feelin' flows both ways?

Sad to see you go, Was sorta hopin' that you'd stay

Baby, we both know, That the nights were mainly made

For sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day'' Karina effortlessly sang, the melody of her voice carried around the campus, thanks to all the speakers scattered about.

You couldn't bring yourself to answer. You desperately wanted to say yes— after all, you had only accepted Jay's confession on a whim, thinking it would maybe, somehow, in some way. help you move on from Sophia.

Sophia took your silence as a need for space. So she turned away, letting go of your hands in the process.

No, you were not about to lose the chance that perfectly presented itself to you— one you've unknowingly been waiting for a long time.

In a split second, you grabbed her hand, and pulled her closer to you.

''Do I wanna know? Too busy bein' yours to fall?'' Ninging clutched onto her mic, pouring her feelings into the song.

You held Sophia's cheek, staring at her with a gentle and hoping smile. As if asking for her permission. She sent you a smile, her way of saying yes.

''Sad to see you go, Ever thought of callin', darlin'?'' Winter sang, as she strung on her guitar cords with great precision.

You pulled Sophia in, with a gentle but needy kiss. Your lips moving against each other, trying to find a rhythm. Screams from your schoolmates could be heard all over, but neither of you noticed. You were in your own little bubble, as if it was only you and her in the world.

''Do I wanna know? Do you want me crawlin' back to you?'' Giselle finished, breathing heavy.

You both pulled away, in need of air. You stared at each other, speechless. You caressed her cheek, and looked at Sophia lovingly. She held your hand, and sent you back a stare as loving— if not more.

''I love you.'' You whispered— loud enough for her to hear, but not enough for others to hear. For they were words you wanted only Sophia to hear.

Tears once again, for the last time today, welled up. The gloss in her eyes enhancing her beauty. It was a sight to see.

''I love you too.'' She whispered back, as she leaned into your chest.

#kkoga #katseye x reader #katseye #katseye x female reader #sophia laforteza #sophia laforteza x reader #sophia katseye #sophia

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yaut-jaknowit · 1 day ago

Note

Hello can I have an ask about reader who came from our world who is a big fan of predators who can read, write and speak their language and fight like them too gets teleported to yautja prime and I guess she was looking around for shelter and she found a clan so she entered their clan grounds hoping she doesn't get killed and she found a pyramid (from what I remember seeing in one of the movies) which turns out to be where the clan has its important meetings. And the elder clan leader let's call him Kar'dokh (if you don't mind) was having meeting with other nearby clans so reader accidently enters the meeting room filled with other clan leaders and their most trusted soldiers standing by their side and the silence was LOUD

Reader: ....

Kar'dokh and the other clan leaders: ....

*Kar'dokh gets up about to kill her*

*Reader speaks in yautja*: wait I mean no harm I swear!!

And like all of the yautjas were flabbergasted to find this out and they were suspicious of her cause how does a human know so much about their people? (cause in the world no human ever went to yautja prime) so word got out and everyone wanted to see the human including people from other clans, so fast forward reader and kar'dokh got close -e ends up liking her try's courting her but she pretends to be oblivious to it

Kar'dokh: ooman

Reader: yes?

Kar'dokh: why do you refuse to be my mate? Am I not a worthy enough male for you? I have you know I have strong seed to sire strong pups so why do you refuse me?

Reader: what...? What do you...huh? Kar'dokh you are an alien I wouldn't even be able to give you children!

Kar'dokh: my people's technology can fix that issue so be my mate

Reader: I... I can't

Kar'dokh: and why not?

Reader: because I'm human!!!

Kar'dokh: not valuable reason. Try again

Reader: why do you even like me!?!? Kar'dokh: because I am attracted to you

Reader: *tip toe’s and manages to grab him by the shoulders* raise your standard!!!!

Kar'dokh: *slams hand into metal and puts a deep dent into it then proceed to grab her by the risk*

AND BOOM he pounces on her, corners her against the wall gets her to confess her feelings and they do the super Spicy boombayah doggie style😉

And she somehow got pregnant a few days later

SORRY FOR IT BEING LONG!!!!!

To Another Realm

Pairings: Kar'dokh (male yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 5271

Summary: After being transported to another realm where yautjas are real, you learn to survive. With the help of Kar'dokh. A clan leader of a strong tribe. If it wasn't for him, you would've been long dead your first day. Close proximity and his help made the two of you grow close. To the point there was no space between you two.

Author Note: IM SO SORRY ITS TAKEN ME FOREVER TO GET TO THIS. I've been so busy. Work just changed my 6-2 to a 10-6 and I'm now moving an hour away. So I'll be taking a small break as well for that for writing probably. Maybe... I don't know.

Also! I do have a patreon now: link There are three tiers. Those get the post earlier. Everything will still come out. I'm tweaking things as I go.

Masterlist

Ao3

Wind rushes passed you. The ground comes and meets your face with a dull thud. Blackness is all you see.

A throat-tearing gasp wracks your body. You sit up rapidly and start to violently cough, trying to figure out how to steady your breathing. It takes a moment to steady yourself enough to wipe away the tears from your face and gaze around. What you saw wasn’t what you were expecting.

Jungle. Tall, lumbering trees towered high above you. Heat and humidity smacked you in the face. The air was hard to breath. It felt like there wasn’t enough oxygen, like you had been shoved onto of a mountain without any time to acclimate. You struggled to your feet and glanced around. The area felt weird. It was as if your internal compass was thrown off completely.

Where were you?

Only thing you could feel besides the confusion was dread. A heavy thing to sit in the pit of your belly, weighing you down. You placed over your heart and took in deep, calming breathes. A difficult thing to do when it feels like you’re slowly suffocating. You pushed through the dread and began to move in a random direction. There had to be some sort of clue to as where you are… and how you got here. The last thing you say doesn’t correspond to waking up in a forest!

Due to the lack of air, you could only walk at a moderate pace. That already had you panting slightly. The terrain was rough and unsteady. Thick foliage, fall giant trees, wide creeks, and boulders made the trip all the more difficult. You had to push forward though and find some sort of clue. Sweat and humidity sticks to your skin like a sheet. Your clothes sticking to you uncomfortably. No matter how much you pulled the drenched clothing away from your skin.

Hours, or what felt like hours of traveling, later, you spotted something through the foliage. It rivaled the trees height. A structure! You immediately started to quickened your pace and race through the foliage, not caring if the branches tore at your clothing and skin. You panted heavily by the time you pushed past the lush bush. You stood there and dragged your gaze up, up, up until you find the top. It was a pyramid. A pyramid in the middle of the jungle. Was this somewhere that had Aztec or Mayan buildings? That’s all you could come up with.

It was in pristine state, as if you had been transported back in time. Like this was the day it was built. You can’t recall anything from anywhere that had something like this. With your heavy breathing, you had to stand there for at least ten minutes, under a tree, catching your breath. The sun was harsh. It felt like you were in a desert, in middle of the day. It nearly burned your skin by standing out in it for a short period of time. You glanced at the building after catching your breath once more. You wanted to go inside. Who knows what’s beyond its walls? Could be an earth shattering record?

With a deep breath you pushed onward and stepped into the blazing sun. Even the intensity felt off, the rays as well. Yet, you didn’t have an idea on what is happening. Besides this being a terrible dream. Stuck in a hot, humid jungle with no phone, no map, no clue where you were. A hopeless situation to be put into with your lonesome.

Large stairs that reached your knees slowed your ascend. Halfway up, you had to stop and take a moment. “This. Is. Bullshit,” you muttered to yourself then continued up the stairs. The material was textured and a deep ruby red with blocks of black. It was beautiful despite you sweating all over it. Does a dream really make you sweat this much?

By the time you had reached the top steps, you feel faint, ready to fall back down the stairs you just climbed. You stumbled your way into the entrance, thankful for the cover. The sun had done a number on your skin. The heat that radiated off of you could make water boil off of you. Your back touches a wall before you slide down to sit. Your legs were more than thankful for the rest. There had to be at least on-hundred steps. Minimum. It was worse since they were made for bigger people.

All because you wanted to see the inside. This better be worth it.

Once you felt stable, thirty minutes later, you weakly stood up. Your legs wobbled when you took a step. You continue on and follow your way inside. Only to realize it had a stairwell. You growled and glared at the damn thing. Then, you take the slow and approach of climbing down each step. It wasn’t much to complain about. Only about two flights until you reached the first floor. Now, it was time to explore.

There was something in the air that had you on alert. Either from the creepiness or from the fact you felt like you were crossing into forbidden territory. You tread quietly, peered around corners before doing down that hallway. The place felt like a maze, meant to drag you deeper and deeper into the depths. Until you from yourself all the way at the bottom level.

That; s when you realize that the only reason you’re able to see is from fire lamps. Lamps that have to be lit by someone. You stopped in your tracks and looked at the walls. In your blind stupor, you didn’t think to look at the walls. Walls that are decorated with stone carvings. Carving that made you think of the movie ‘AVP’. This is really a dream.

You walked up to the carving and gently ran a hand over the smooth stone. Beautiful work. Someone had poured their heart into the crafting a story into the stone. Your gaze drifts over the art work and followed the story down the hallway. All the way to a grand door at the end of the hallway. It was too carved with a mixture of stone, word, and some sort of ore. You stopped in front the door with your jaw dropped.

Curiosity got the best of you. Both of your hands were place on one of the doors.; With all of your weight and strength, you pushed open the door. Your head was ducked down as you struggled the entire time. Just enough until you could slip between the new crack. You stepped into the room and instantly freeze on the spot. That dreadful feeling only intensified… tenfold. You picked up your head and had to cut off a gasp.

Tens of eyes stared at you bright, fierce gazes that looked ready to tear into you. Your muscles locked in place as you stared out at the group. You recognized them. Yautjas. These were Yautjas. Twenty or so. All of them staring at you. Your heart pounding in your chest, trying to escape from the situation you’ve put yourself into.

At the end of the long, formal table, one grand looking Yautja stood up abruptly. Others following suit. The first on marched around everyone and advanced swiftly towards you. You stumble backwards and smacked into the closed door behind you.

Two long blades slid out and glinted off the low light from the fire lamps. Your eyes about bulged out of your head as you looked at the approaching Yautja. Seeing them in movies was far different than seeing on in person. Not that you ever thought you would see one like this. Your hands lifted up in a complacent manner, as if you were trying to call down an angered animal.

“Wait!” you screamed, using a language you never though to use. The Yautja stopped in his tracks his muscles tense. Everyone else pausing as well. “Don’t… don’t kill me.” The unused language was choppy on your tongue. You never thought you would ever use it. Not that you had anyone to use it with.

Surprise over took his anger in the moment. His eyes roamed from head to toe. “You spoke.” It was a statement rather than a question. The words takes a long few seconds to register in your brain. A bit of excitement flares to life inside of you at the knowledge you understand him.

Timidly, you nodded your head. “Yes. Did. Not well.” You did your best to communicate with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas with him, hoping to keep yourself alive. The other Yautjas behind him glanced at each other, confusion evident in their eyes. Some looked angry. One stepped out from the group and tried to bypass the main Yautja standing less than ten feet from you. He sticks his arm out and stops the other one.

“No, Taural,” he growled but didn’t let his bright vibrant eyes off of you. You felt like a deer in headlights, just waiting for them to do something. For them to decide your fate. There was no running, no fleeing. You couldn’t outrun them, there was no chance of escape. You had to think smart.

The one he stopped snapped his head towards the larger male. “It’s a ooman, Kar'dokh! On Yautja Prime. It needs to be killed,” Taural spat at the brown Yautja. Your heart leapt into your throat. Kill you?! But-but, you’re not a threat, you have no weapons. They have no reason to kill you!

“No.” Such a firm statement that left nothing to be argued. “Return to your seats. Now.” A command that left everyone only to followed. They followed his order with little resistance. Some glanced back at you with murderous intent. Part of you was thankful for the mercy while the other was afraid what he might have in store for you.

Kar'dokh approached you once more with a stern look in his eyes. Instantly, like a cornered animal, your first thought was to throw a punch. But, you didn’t want to give a reason to kill you. Don’t be a threat. He stopped directly in front of you. A towering form that made you feel like you were going to shit yourself. Your heart raced and felt like it was going to leap directly into his hands.

He leaned down and got directly into your face. You tried to turn your head away but he grips your chin and forces your head back. “No threat. Can’t… kill me,” you continued in choppy Yautja. The fear that gripped your heart squeezed hard. All you could do was stand there, under his scrutiny. Your eyes pleading for your life to be spared. Because if your memory served you right, from all the knowledge about these guys, they shouldn’t be allowed to harm or kill you in any way. You aren’t a threat and hold no weapons.

“How do you know?” he growled out lowly and tightened his grip on your chin. You since. “How did you get here?” You could see the questions swirling in his eyes the longer you he stared at you. He was trying to figure out where and how you got here.

Longer you stood there pinned to the wall, you grew more lightheaded. Either from the anxiety that ran through you or the lack of oxygen was starting to get to you. Maybe it was the fear of death right in front of you. Or maybe it was a combination of all of that. Your breathes started to come out fast the longer you were pinned. Darkness began to crowd your vision.

“I-I’m gonna pa-pas out,” you alerted to him before everything went dark. You collapsed on the ground. Kar'dokh letting you dropped. The last thing you remember is being picked up.

By the next time you woke up, you felt a bit refresh. Your eyes blinked open to stare up at a patterned, carved ceiling. Carving like the ones you’ve seen on the pyramid walls. Your brows furrowed at the sight. What? You sat up and rubbed at your eyes. The scene didn’t change. You had just woke up. What in the world were you still in this dream? Fear started to fill your stomach. No… surely, this was a dream. Was this a dream?

Then, a door opening caught your attention. Your head snapped over towards the sound. Kar'dokh was walking into the room, head held high. He stopped besides the cot you had been placed on during your forced nap. Stunned, you peered up at him, heart thundering again. “What happened?” you asked, speaking in your normal language now. Then, you felt the blanket that had been laid on you, slip down. That’s when you realize the room you were in was a medical room. And it didn’t feel like you were suffocating anymore.

His nearness was frightening. To see him crowd into your space without any remorse for scaring you terribly. A grumbled came from the towering, brown giant. “Our planet’s atmosphere isn’t designed for oomans.” His voice! He spoke in Yautja but a monotone voice sounded in your ear. A translator.

It’s thought that they breathe nitrogen more than oxygen. They can survive in our atmosphere than us in theirs. “A regulator has been added to our respiratory system.” Kar'dokh leaned into closer into your space. Your natural reaction was to move away but he snatched your throat and tugged you back. “Now, that I know you won’t die before I get my answers: start talking.”

Worst of all, you don’t know the true answer to his questions. He didn’t look like he would accept ‘I don’t know’ as an answer either. You forced down the lump in your throat. “Uh, what was the questions again?” you asked in a small voice. As much as you wanted to shy away and hide, the grip he had on your chin was firm. There was no escape.

He scowled at you and tightened his hold on you for a moment. “How did you get here? Who brought you onto our planet?” The deepness and anger in his voice was laid thick over you. It rattled you deep to the bones. Fear gripped your heart. The more you looked at Kar'dokh, the more you noticed how decorated he was. Kar'dokh was covered with plenty of bones and scars. From your knowledge, he must be a well decorated hunter or possibly an elder… or a clan leader. That had your heart dropping to the floor, at his feet. You whimpered quietly and closed your eyes, trying not to faint again.

“Answer me!”

Your whole body jerked from him but he brought you back to his space. “I don’t know! I don’t know! I promise. I woke up in the middle of the jungle. I-I walked around and found this place. I don’t know how I got here. Honestly!” you had to plead to him. Hopefully, he’d see the honesty in your eyes, hear it in your voice. You cracked open an eye to read his face.

The gears in his brain were spinning. Kar'dokh growled then let go of your chin. With a yelp, you fell back and nearly fell off the cot if it wasn’t for him grabbing the collar of your shirt. He hauled you back up into a sitting position. Far too close. You could see the speckles in his eyes. Beautiful but deadly. This creature could easily hurt and kill you with a fraction of his strength. The only reason you are alive currently was you weren’t a threat nor an honorable kill. Those… others wanted to kill you with little remorse or pause. Was that honor rule not true? If that was the case, you were a walking corpse. Soon to be a skull on the wall. Nothing more than a trophy.

Kar'dokh eases off of your shirt until he knew you won’t fall backwards again. “Thanks,” you murmured and drifted your face down towards the cot again. Your hands were folded in your lap, nervously playing with each other. “I’m being honest. I promise. I don’t know how I got here. I don’t even know where I am. This isn’t earth, is it?” You gazed back up at him, eyes large and wide.

The two of you entered a short staring contest until he sighed and took a step back. “I believe you, ooman. I don’t smell another on you.” The brown Yautja leaned forward and sniffed you for a moment. “You do smell… strange.” Was that a good or bad thing? He stood back up and stared down at you from over his mandibles. “Do answer me this: how do you know that we can’t harm you?” Your breath got caught in your throat. Was it wise to release such information to him? Would he think you as insane?

But, the only way was to get through all of this is to be honest. From there, it would be up to Kar'dokh if you are to live. Putting your life in someone’s hands.

“Okay… you might not believe me though.” From there, you went into explaining what your world is like. Going deeply into about how Yautjas are a fake species, made up. All of them a fantasy that someone made up… until now. Kar'dokh took all of it. His stern face a wall of impassible features. Not even his eyes gave away a single emotion. By the end, you finally stopped and watched him closely.

During your whole talk, he had grabbed a chair. Kar'dokh stood up and uncrossed his arms. “All you’ve said is… unrealistic, though you arriving on Yautja Prime is also next to unrealistic. Oomans aren’t allowed on Yautja Prime but… you are a special case now. If what you say is true then you must be kept alive.” That made a cold drop drip down your spine. What could that mean?

From that day, you were under lock and key by Kar'dokh or in a medical-like room. They would run tests on you yet they couldn’t come up with anything logical for your situation. In the meantime, you got to learn more than ever about them. Probably the first and only humans to step foot on Yautja Prime. Alive. It took time to get Kar'dokh to open up but your excitement about learning their culture and language inevitably softened him up enough. That’s when you learned more about him. Plenty for a well decorated warrior and clan leader to talk about.

Two years after you first dropped down onto their planet, the scientists were still scratching their heads. They haven’t figured out how you’ve made it here. They were able to find out you weren’t from their universe. Something about your cells were different. That’s as far as they’ve gotten about your situation.

On a different hand, you’ve gotten further with Kar'dokh to the point he allows you free roam of his home and the clan he leads. There was a strict no harming or killing on you. He had his name and symbol burned into your skin to ensure everyone knew you were off limits. Everyone kept a wide berth when it came to you. Rarely did anyone talk or looked at you. Something you used to your advantage. For the most part. Until you wanted to learn about their culture more.

Back in the comfort of Kar'dokh’s home, you were studying the language. A soft, thin, knitted blanket laid over your legs while you were curled on the couch in the living room. The language… was different. But Kar'dokh was more than helpful when it came to speaking and writing. Listening, that’s a whole different story. That’s all on you. Your brain is completely scrambled trying to understand the different clicks and trills they make.

With a groan, you flopped back against the back of the couch and tilted your head back, eyes closed. A familiar presences hovered over you, blocking out the light. You cracked open an eye then softly smiled at him with no teeth showing. “Hello, Kar'dokh. Come here to gloat about my struggles?” you teased him.

The brown Yautja placed his hands on the top of the couch and leaned over you. His long, dark tresses curtained around his head. “What are you struggling with?” he asked you, features soft and calm. You continued to gaze up at him. “I told you I’m here to help you.” He has changed since the first day you met him. You’ve cracked past his hard exterior to see how soft and kind he could be. You sat up and brought up the sheet of paper you were on. Kar'dokh grabbed it and looked at it closely.

Kar'dokh snorted then used a sharp nail to flick off the translator right behind your ear. Then, he began to speak in Yautja. “What it is saying is…” he spoke the word but it didn’t register in your brain. The confusion etched in your features stated you didn’t understand it. At all. Kar'dokh repeat it a few times. “Now, you try it.” The course of two years has greatly improved your Yautja speech and understanding. There are moment when you struggle… but Kar'dokh is there to catch you before you fall.

At first, the word choppily fell from your lips. Kar'dokh was patient in helping you get the word. The different facial structures definitely made it all the harder. Yet, Kar'dokh was patient with you the entire time. Even if it took all day for you to finally get it.

Once you finally got it, Kar'dokh purred and grinned at you. He combed his fingers carefully through your hair. “You did so well. I’m proud of you,” he praised to you.

In the pit of your stomach, butterflies erupted to life. Your eyes softly shut as you enjoyed the comfort his presence and touch offered. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without you,” you muttered softly in Yautja. The words were starting to fall from your lips with ease. His nails raked across your scalp. You sunk further into the couch with a deep groan.

A chuckle comes from the brown Yautja. You feel his presence grow closer, his heat washing over you like a blanket of comfort. One of your eyes barely cracks open to see his bright yellow one staring directly at you. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

Without thinking, you leaned up and pecked him on one of his mandibles.

The whole world froze. Your heart dropped to your stomach. Internally, you were cursing at yourself. You flinched and tried to slip off the couch to put some distance between the two of you. When a hand snatched the back of you neck, lifted you over the couch, and dropped you right in front of Kar'dokh. Your shoulders scrunched up, eyes not daring to look him in the eye.

Rough finger pads gripped your chin and forced you to look directly at him. A lump began to grow in your throat the longer you stared at him.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I just-I don’t know. It just happened. I do have feelings. I don’t know if you did. And I probably just ruined what friendship we had. Now you’ll probably hate me. Please, don’t. I don’t know what I wo-“ a tongue was shoved into your mouth and promptly shut you up. Your eyes fluttered shut.

An arm snaked around your waist and tugged you close to a feverish body. Your own arms wrapped around a sturdy neck. Kar'dokh guided you towards the nearest wall and trapped you between him and it. You are forced to pull back and pant for breath. The back of your head resting against the wall.

“That’s one way to make me shut up,” you teased him and leaned up on your tippy toes to place a kiss to his lower mandible. “I’m not complaining though.” Kar'dokh growled lowly in the back of his throat and dove back into another kiss. You immediately responded in haste, hands roaming over his shoulders and felt up his powerful body.

As your hands dipped lower, Kar'dokh pressed himself harder against you. One of his legs pressed between your legs and forced them open. You gasped into the kiss but he doesn’t let you pull away this time. A rough textured hand palms at your hip for a moment before dipping under the hem of your shirt. The difference in temperature has your hair standing on edge. He continues to grope at your newly exposed skin.

For a moment, he moves back a fraction to give you a moment to take a breath. His large, brown forehead was pressed to your own. Piercing yellow eyes stare directly into yours. The hand under your shirts drifts up and skims under the swell of your unbound breasts. You gasped and arched your back, pressing yourself more into his touch. His eyes flared with fire, mandibles twitching wider.

There’s a long second passed before he rips your shirt off of your body and frees your torso. Kar'dokh’s gaze was immediately admiring the new skin he exposes. Both of his hands palm at the supple, soft skin of your breasts. Large thumbs toys over your nipples and draws them into peaks. You whined and curled your hands into fists. One snagging a dark tress of his. He purred deeply and pressed his mouth to yours again in a fierce fight for the top. Kar'dokh easily overtakes you.

You tugged on his tress. His dark nails dig into your ribcage then he pinched and twisted one of your nipples. A gasp tore at your throat and forced you to pull away from him. Your hips rutted down on the thigh between them.

“Kar, no more teasing. Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you begged him, breathless. His irises darkened.

With the open invitation, Kar'dokh simply rips off your pants and under in one move. A yelp escapes from your throat but he ignores it. The brown Yautja bumps his knee further up and grinds against your exposed slit. Heat flushed to your cheeks at the feeling of a dripping mess making its way to his thigh.

Drool drips down his jaw. Kar'dokh grips your hips and easily lifts you off of the ground, keeping you pinned to the wall. Instinctively, your legs attempted to wrap around his waist but he was larger than you. He uses his hips to hold you up as he undoes his loincloth and tosses it to the side. Your gaze is drawn downwards.

Hot and heavy. Kar'dokh’s alien cock is nestled between your thighs, resting on your stomach. The tip reaches your belly button easily. Oh shit. You felt yourself clench around nothing at the sight.

One last look in your eyes, he draws his hips back. The tapered, neon green tip was pressed to your entrance. Then, with a swift thrust, he lodges himself as deep as possible, only able to get about halfway in. Your back arches off of the wall as a wail falls from your lips. The sheer size of him makes it hard for your walls to even clench around him.

Kar'dokh uses a hand to ensnare your throat and forced you to look at him. “I know you can take more.” Another draw and thrust of his hips makes the rest of him fit snuggly inside of you. The feeling of him overwhelmed you. It felt like he was touching every nerve inside of you. Maybe he was.

A deep groan falls from his alien mouth. His eyes fluttering, on the verge of shutting at the exquisite feeling of you wrapped snuggly around him. “That’s it. I knew you could take it, little one. Mm, you’re so tight,” he muttered under his breath. Kar'dokh refocused on the task on hand.

The pace at first was sloppy, unsteady until he found the perfect beat. Loud slaps echoing throughout the living room. Your hand was still wrapped around his tress firmly, using it as a lifeline. Your jaw dropped as each thrust forced the air out of your lungs.

“Yes, yes. Perfect. Been wanting to do this-ugh, for so long. Make you my mate. Gonne breed you. Have my pups,” he rambled amidst the brutal fucking he provided. His claw dug into your hips and held you in place.

You couldn’t the snort that left you as you tried to stay sane. “T-that’s n-ah, no possible, Kar.” From what you know of, it shouldn’t be. No matter how potent their seed is. Or the fact the tip of his shaft was slamming against you cervix with each rut into you.

Black nails dug deeper into your flesh, threatening to break the barrier. “Doesn’t matter. Our technology will fix that,” he growled back and doubled his efforts. Your reply was cut off with a high pitched whine. The brutalness was wrecking to your smaller frame. There wasn’t a chance you would be able to walk tomorrow.

He leaned further into your space and buried his face into the crook of your neck. His long, pink tongue slithered over your salty flesh, tasting you. Blood pool around the nails that finally pierced the flesh of your hips.

“You’re mine. My mate!” Your pants grew whiny. You had no choice but to hold on as the first wave of your orgasm started to wash over you. Your eyes crossed as the pleasure became overwhelming.

Fangs bite down into the crook of your neck, scaring as his mate. With a deep, resonating snarl, Kar'dokh hips go flush with yours. You mewled at the feeling of his throbbing cock taking up every available space inside of you then some more. Spurts of cum began to fill your insides.

None of it was able to spill out and be of waste. Something was lodged just shy of your entrance, plugging you up. You squirmed in his hold and tried to figure it out what it was. Then, the light bulb went off.

A knot. Kar'dokh had knotted you. The thought sent a shiver down your spine. He really was doing everything he can to make you pregnant. He unlatched his teeth from your shoulder and licked at the dribbling blood.

At first, you smiled. That turned into a smirk and soon enough, you were laughing softly, soaking in the dopamine in your system. Kar'dokh’s licking stopped. The brown Yautja pulls away to look you in the eye, confused on your laughter.

“I don’t know how this will work. You won’t be able to get me pregnant,” you explained to him again, trying to get the point across. “Why do you even like me? I’m a human.”

One hand detaches the claws in your hip to grip at your chin. “It’s because I am attracted to you. Ooman or not, you are attractable both physically and mentally.” Oh… that’s really sweet of him. Your cheeks flushed with heat again. You couldn’t even duck your head off to the side.

“Then, you need to raise your standards, Kar. Or you just need to get out more often.” Kar'dokh responded with a snort and returned to nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He doesn’t entertain your words. Instead, he holds you in his arms, waiting for his knot to deflate.

So he could do it all over again.

Sure enough, a human can get pregnant by a Yautja.

#yautja #yautja x reader #predator #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader

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ask-nurse-curly · 13 hours ago

Text

as stated in the updated pinned post, we are diverging from the canon roleswap timeline starting nnnnnnnow :) ask boxes are open again!

[ Transcript under the cut ]

Hey Curly, I just wanted to check in with you. Things have been a little weird recently with this nearby satellite..

Are you doing okay?

Hey Captain!

Funny business, isn't it? I don't think we've ever had anything like this happen before.

It's okay, though. Sometimes I kind of want to follow Daisuke's example, but most people are nice.

What about you, everything alright on your end?

Me too, there's just so much going on at all times, haha.

Everything is mostly alright. I've got nice people, but some of them.. They're just getting under my skin. I should probably put the phone down.

How bad is it? My worst has been spam messages, mostly. Did you know the Halcyon colonies are reopening admission?

Makes you wonder why they need new people so soon after launch.

Oh yeah! I don't think I'm going to take their offer, I'm pretty content with Earth.

As for the messages.. I don't know. Some of them are just.. Mean, I guess. I don't want you to worry about it, I can handle it, it's just frustrating.

Have you gotten any fun messages though? I got one not that long ago asking about how I felt being a pilot, it was a nice question.

'Mean'? I'm sure you know that sounds worrisome. Are you okay?

Ah, I can't even remember all of them! There is this Martian scientist who gave me the scoop of planetary warfare amongst their kind, someone who is very intent on educating me about possums, and I even reconnected with someone from my med school years, that was pretty wild. Also someone from an actual gunship patched into our frequency, apparently their surname is the same as yours? Do you know a Hideo?

I'm really fine, if I couldn't handle a few weirdos, I wouldn't be on this ship lol

But.. That's very interesting. I don't know if I have any familiar faces on my end, so consider me jealous of you. I can't say that I know a Hideo? Should I?

Now who are you calling a weirdo? :-)

I don't know if you should! If it's a coincidence then certainly an amusing one, guess Musumes are just made to be captains. :-)

Maybe so.. I'll have to start a club then, Captain Musume club.

And I would NEVER call you a weirdo, Nurse Curly, never ever......

Uh huh. I believe you.

:-)

What is weird is just...how much some of these people seem to know. I wonder if our phones were hacked into somehow? Do you think I should be worried about my Meeboo subscription at this rate?

I feel like I should be more shocked but with how much of our data gets sold off and leaked on a daily basis, I can't find myself to be horrified.

You should definitely worry about your Meeboo subscription though.

...Fair point.

Well, if my streaming services are what takes the brunt of exposure, I suppose I could live with that.

Do you think that's how they found out about your nurses calendar? If that's even a real thing.. Did you ever model for a nursing calendar? Lol

Haha!

No, god no. I could never. Can you imagine me in a pin-up calendar? That would be bonkers.

No, I was just joking. I guess the very nature of their, uh, request was too much for my English sensibilities, so I turned to my trusty defence mechanism honed by generations of haughty stuck-ups.

...How did you know about that?

Well we certainly love a modest king..

I was told about it by one of the messages I got, I didn't know if it was true or not but I guess my curiosity was piqued. Sorry, it was inappropriate to ask.

Oh god, are they still harassing you about me? I'm so sorry.

They are strangely...invested.

I hope it's not too much of a bother. And I doubly hope they cease soon.

I don't mind too terribly, I just feel bad talking about you when you're unaware. I certainly try to keep my answers vague so that I can maintain your privacy.

Truly, I don't know if I should be offended or relieved they ask me more about you than they do myself, haha!

I'd go for relieved! Or perhaps even flattered. They seem to think highly of your captaining skills. :-)

They do! I'm not sure how they know about THAT information, but I'll take what I can get!

I can't say i blame them, it's pretty obvious!

I mean

Crew ratings should be public access, right? Based on delivery reviews and stuff. Or could be if they weren't and got leaked too.

I definitely don't doubt that...

I don't know, they seem fairly invested in my love life as well. Which goes beyond the scope of simple work appraisal. I've been asked if I'm single, who my type is. I felt like I was filling out a dating application lol

Haha, funny that

You could lean into that too, if you wanted to, let them do all the legwork. It's worse than the Wild West on those apps sometimes.

I'm not trying to find someone through texting strangers, besides, it seems they already have my ideal love interest picked out for me. They're trying to cause trouble is what they're doing.

And how do you even know what those apps are like? Isn't that like.. Cheating for you?

Oh shoot. Er

It would be! It totally would be if. If I were still in a relationship.

Which I'm not. For the record.

In any case, not that I prowl those apps much, it's not really uh, worth it for me.

What? Since when are you not??

You were just talking about Marie before we took off. Unless.. Did you break up when we got service...?

Yeah, haha, turns out it's not always great when familiar faces text you, right?

But yeah, she... It's not easy, I guess, dating someone who isn't there for half a year at a time at least, you know?

It was kind of a long time coming, so. She just was the braver one out of the two of us to cut the cord.

Sorry, didn't mean to be a downer. It really is okay though. We're good, and. I think I've kind of went through the stages of grief back when we were still earthside.

So. Not a big deal.

I'm so sorry, Curly :( I wish you would've told me. I'm still here if you need to talk, okay? Breaking up sucks, even if you see it coming.

Oh no, I promise it's okay! It really, really is

I'm okay, it's not a big deal.

I mean, it would be, it

But it's not like

I didn't really

She maybe...didn't really...exist?

Curly what are you saying right now

I am a fool is what I'm saying :-(

I'm so sorry.

Any chance we could pretend I never said anything?

How are we supposed to do that? I don't even know what to say.

Why would you lie about that?

...Could we talk?

I mean, in person.

I'll explain everything, just

I'm afraid of how much of this might get exposed.

Please.

Yeah

Are you in the medbay? I'm on my way.

Yes.

Thank you.

#mouthwashing #curly mouthwashing #ask blog #curlya #nurlysays #modsays

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phantomdreamgirl · 2 days ago

Text

Every time He smiles, My Heart Breaks

(18+)

Familyvideo!steve harrington x reader

After Steve broke your heart back in high school, you spent the next few years avoiding him until you found yourself leaning against the video store counter, falling for his charms all over again.

Standing in line at Family Video, you clutch the two VHS tapes you're holding to your chest. You shift your weight from one foot to the other, as you eye how many people are ahead of you. You knew coming in on a Saturday night was a bad idea, but you were in need of one of your comfort movies and would risk waiting in an obscenely long line to get it.

You sigh before you see an overwhelmed Robin yell for Steve to come to the counter.

Shit.

You weren't expecting to see him tonight or ever, as every time you'd been there in the past, you had just missed him. A cold sweat forms on your brow as you reluctantly take a step forward. A simple trip to the video store was quickly turning into your worst nightmare, as you inch closer and closer to the guy responsible for the worst heartbreak of your life.

You try to stay to the right, where the line branches off, in hopes of ending up with Robin instead. Your hopes are soon crushed however, as the person in front of you chooses her to rant at over their late fees.

"I can help whoever's next," you then hear a familiar voice say.

You look over at him and he flashes a faint smile, as recognition registers on his face. You smile politely in return as you approach the counter. You set the tapes down in front of you, now aware of how clammy your hands are.

"Hey," he greets as he assesses the tapes. "How have you been?"

"Good, just busy. What about you?" You ask, as your eyes meet his.

You forgot just how mesmerizing they were. So many memories suddenly flood your mind as you force yourself to keep a neutral expression.

"Same, actually, as you can see it can get pretty crazy in here some nights," he replies, scanning one of the tapes. "Oh, Flashdance, nice. I remember how much you liked this one."

"You should, that was one of our best dates," you say with a laugh.

"Yeah," he smiles. "It was. Then you played the soundtrack in your car nonstop afterwards."

"I still do sometimes," you reveal.

Steve averts his eyes from yours before asking you for the store rewards card. You hand it to him and he holds it for a second before handing it back to you.

"You know what? These are on the house," he says, handing the tapes back to you.

"What? I don't-" you begin to protest when he's leaning over the counter, closer to you.

You then instinctively lean against the counter, towards him. He's so close you can smell traces of the minty gum he was chewing earlier.

"Would you mind waiting until after I get this line down? I wanna talk to you about something," he whispers, causing your body to tense up.

"Yeah, sure," you quickly reply, earning another smile from him.

You step to the side of the counter, again clutching the tapes to your chest as you wait. Your mind's racing with a million possibilities for what he would want to talk to you about. Maybe he's finally going to apologize for how he treated you back in high school. Would he even care about that now? Should you still care about it as much as you do? Why do you still let him get to you? The questions are endless until you hear Steve softly saying your name.

He steps out from behind the counter and stands next to you.

"Can I walk you out to your car?" He asks, pointing to the parking lot. "It's too crowded in here."

You nod, and he gestures for you to walk in front of him. He hurries ahead of you to get the door, holding it open so the two of you can exit into the chilly, February evening.

He follows you to your car and waits as you toss the tapes into the passenger seat.

"So, what do you want to talk to me about?" You ask, after turning to face him.

"I, um, have been thinking about you a lot lately," he begins, slightly nervous, "and I know that probably sounds really weird since we haven't talked in years, and I know that's my fault, but I... I just want to apologize for how shitty I was to you when we broke up-"

"You mean when you left me for Nancy?" You interrupt, folding your arms across your chest.

"Yeah, I was a total jerk about it, and I'm sorry," he replies, with a pout. "You deserved a better guy than me anyway."

Your expression softens as you notice the sadness in his eyes.

"I wouldn't go that far," you console. "You were a good boyfriend, we were happy."

"Its hard for me to remember sometimes," he admits, kicking some of the loose gravel beneath his feet. "Sometimes all I can remember is how I hurt you."

"That's all I can remember sometimes, too," you confess, meeting his sad gaze.

"I'm just so sorry for all of it and I want to make it up to you," he continues, hopeful. "Valentines day is coming up and I was wondering, if you'd want to go to dinner with me? If you don't already have plans..."

"I-" you start to reply, as his proposition has seemingly rendered you speechless.

"I'll totally understand if you don't want to, since you probably still hate me," he adds, now just rambling. "I'd still hate me too."

You then reach out and lightly grip the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "I don't hate you, Steve," you assure.

His face instantly lights up with a smile that still gives you butterflies.

"You don't?"

You shake your head. "I could never hate you."

"Would you be willing to go out with me, then?" He asks again, noticing how you're still holding onto him.

"I would," you quietly answer, as you feel him wrapping his arms around you.

"Yeah?" He questions, still with a smile.

You nod.

He pulls you into him, against his warm, broad chest and whatever thoughts of protest leave your mind.

"I won't mess this up again," he breathes, gazing into your eyes.

Your hand moves from his sleeve to his green vest as he leans in close. You grip it so tightly, turning your knuckles white. His nose brushes yours before he presses the softest kiss to your lips.

You should be embarrassed by how easily you melt into his arms, but in the moment, you can't bring yourself to care. His lips feel so right, everything about him feels right. It's a feeling you've never felt with anyone else and its all encompassing.

The intensity of his kiss grows as he pins you against the side of your car. He presses more of his body against you, as it seems he's just as caught up in how good it feels to have you back in his arms.

"I've missed you," he murmurs, into a kiss.

Before you can respond, you hear Robin calling out for him.

"Steve! Stop making out with the customers and get your ass back in here!"

"Just give me a sec, Rob," he replies, looking over at her. "This is kinda important."

She rolls her eyes before noticing you're who he's with. "Oh... just make it quick."

You each exchange awkward smiles before she disappears inside the store.

"Sorry about that," Steve apologizes, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek.

"Its okay," you assure, sweetly. "I should go, anyway. Wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the big boss."

He playfully scoffs. "Don't worry about that. Keith needs me and he knows it."

He leans in again, and asks with his thumb caressing your cheek, "Can I call you later?"

"Yeah, I just need to give you my new number," you reply, while digging into your purse for a pen. You pull one out, excitedly, but then realize you don't have anything to write on. An idea flickers across your face as you tell him to hold out his hand.

He does so, with a smile, before you write your number on his palm.

You then smile up at him and see a familiar glint in his eyes. You remember how he used to look at you like that all time and it always made you dizzy with love.

"You're adorable," he breathes, pulling you back to him for another kiss.

You whine his name against his lips, gently pushing him away, knowing that if you didn't stop him, you'd never leave.

"Alright," he huffs, pulling away. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay," you smile, as he takes a few steps back allowing you to get into your car.

He watches you leave, standing in place until your car disappears into the distance.

You have a dumb smile plastered on your lips the whole way back to your house. Only in your dreams could you have imagined such an interaction with him. You only wish he would've come to this realization sooner, but you're grateful nonetheless.

He makes good on his promise to call you that night, as the phone rings around ten.

"I didn't wake you up or anything, did I?" He asks, sweetly.

"No, I'm still up," you reply, smiling into the phone.

"Okay, good."

You both then talk for the next hour and a half, until you're both almost dozing off.

"I'm really glad you came in today," he quietly admits.

"I am, too," you say, holding the phone close.

"I've been wanting to say all that to you for so long, it was eating me up inside," he continues. "I miss what we had and I'm sorry for ruining it."

Your heart melts at his admission.

"It means a lot to hear you say that, but you don't have to keep apologizing," you say with a laugh.

"I know, but I still feel so guilty, like, you really loved me and I threw it away for someone who never could," he counters.

"Yeah," you sigh, "but you're making up for it now."

"I didn't expect you to be this forgiving," he admits, also with a laugh.

"Neither did I, but I guess that's part of growing up."

"I guess so," he agrees, with a relieved smile.

You lay on your side, switching the phone to your other ear, imagining his pretty face across from yours.

"I really wanna kiss you right now," he breathes, his voice soft and sleepy.

You smile, burying your face in your pillow. You're about to reply when you hear light snoring and quickly realize he's fallen asleep. After quietly giggling, you listen to him breathe, closing your eyes and pretending he's laying next to you. You almost doze off yourself until the phone slips out of your hand.

"Goodnight Steve," you whisper before turning over to hang up the phone.

Steve calls you every night leading up to your date. It amazes you with how easy it is for him to become a part of your life again.

The night before, he's still vague on the details about your date, saying that it's a surprise. He does tell you to wear something nice, so that probably means that you're going somewhere fancy. You already have the perfect outfit in mind, as you've been saving it for a special occasion.

The following evening, you're getting dressed in your room. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you gently pull black tights up and over your legs, covering the black lace underneath. You then shimmy your way into your black, velvet long-sleeve dress. Walking over to the mirror, you adjust it and make sure it fits just right. You smile at the little red hearts embroidered on it, thinking how this was the perfect dress for Valentines Day.

Turning away from your reflection, you slip into matching black heels before putting on your favorite pair of earrings. You then look over your appearance one last time before you hear the doorbell ring. Long dormant butterflies flutter back to life as you hurry to put on your burgundy coat and sling your purse over your shoulder.

Upon opening the door, you're met with a ridiculously handsome Steve, seemingly also dressed in all black, under his charcoal colored coat. You can't help but gasp at the sight of him.

"Hey," he greets, with a smile, reaching for you.

"Hi," you reply, as he wraps his arms around your waist.

He pulls you to him, pressing his lips to your cheek, as to not ruin your lipstick. Your eyes close as you inhale his cologne. It's different from what he used to wear, but you think it suits him even more.

"You look gorgeous, as always," he breathes, with his lips still at your cheek.

"Thanks," you dreamily reply, "so do you."

"Thanks," he echoes, nuzzling his nose against yours.

You're already consumed by the warmth that radiates from him, that you momentarily forget about the chilly night air around you. You weren't aware how much you missed it until then.

"Ready to go?" He softly asks, between planting little kisses across your cheek.

You nod, dreamily smiling up at him when he pulls away.

He then escorts you to his car, opening the door for you and making sure your coat didn't get caught in it once you get inside.

After he gets in and begins driving out of town, you playfully question where he's taking you. "So, can I at least have a hint about where we're going or...?"

He softly laughs before answering, "I've kept up the suspense long enough. There's a new Italian place that just opened up in the next town over, so I thought we'd go there. Believe it or not, my parents actually raved about it, and they don't like anything, so I'm guessing it must be pretty good."

"Oh," you smile, relieved. "That sounds great then."

"I told you I wanna make up for everything, so I wanted to take you somewhere nice," he adds, glancing over at you and gently taking your hand.

You smile in return as he squeezes, affectionately.

After he parks in the overflowing parking lot, you start to open your door when he stops you. He quickly hops out and hurries over to the passenger side of the car.

"Allow me," he says, helping you out of the car.

"Such the gentleman tonight," you tease, as he wraps his arm around you.

"Um, excuse me, I'm always a gentleman," he reminds, with faux annoyance.

"I know," you agree, leaning into him.

Once inside, you both quickly see how crowded it is, with angry wives and girlfriends, furious that there's no tables available without a reservation. You nervously look to Steve who assures you that he has it covered. He strolls up to the host stand and tells the frazzled hostess that he has a reservation for two under Harrington. She checks the leather bound notebook in front of her and smiles when she finds his name. After grabbing two menus, she looks up at him and says to follow her.

You could feel the hateful looks as you and Steve walk into the dining room. The hostess seats you at a secluded booth, complete with candle lit ambience.

"I must say I'm pretty impressed so far," you admit, while taking off your coat.

"That was the goal," he smirks, while also shedding his.

When he glances up at you again, he's taken aback by how you look in the soft light.

"God, you're beautiful," he quietly laments, reaching across the table to hold your hand.

Both his words and his constant need to touch you has you blushing. He wasn't like this when you were together before and it's a welcome change. He really has grown up a lot in these last few years, you think, as he gazes at you so adoringly.

"You say that like you're just now realizing it," you smile.

"In a way, I am," he replies, seemingly lovesick. "I was such an idiot before, letting you go... I'm not gonna make that mistake again."

He's looking at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. You know he means every word.

While you ate, Steve couldn't keep from staring at you. His honeyed gaze was soft at first but soon darkened as his thoughts drifted to your perfect lips. He longed to see them parted and slick from his kisses before you breathed his name in the delicate way that he loved. He discreetly reaches under the table to adjust himself, willing himself to make it through the first half of your date.

His staring doesn't go unnoticed, as it makes you feel so desirable. You haven't felt like this in years, and it has you clenching the napkin in your lap. You can see the deliciously filthy thoughts hidden behind his eyes, and you're fighting the urge to drag him out to his car and fuck him in the backseat.

You both struggle to maintain your innocent facades for the remainder of your meal. After paying the check, Steve escorts you out of the restaurant with his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. He has you pulled so close that your hips brush his as you walk.

When he has you alone in the parking lot, he presses your back to his passenger side door. A surprised gasp slips from your lips before his body engulfs yours. He kisses you so deeply it literally knocks the breath out of you. In a daze, you wrap your arms around him, with your hands curling under his coat's collar, at the back of his neck. You're almost afraid to touch his skin, fearing it'll be as searing as his kiss.

"I want you so fucking bad," he finally pants, allowing you to breathe.

"I want you, too," you reply, still gasping for air.

"Wanna go back to my place?" He asks, slipping his hands under your coat.

He squeezes your hips, making you whimper up at him.

You nod, and he kisses you again.

During the ride back to Hawkins, you reach into your purse and into your makeup case. Once you have your tube of lipstick in hand, you flip the sun visor in front of you down and open the lighted mirror on the back. Steve curiously watches as you reapply the sultry shade of crimson you wore earlier that night. He's not entirely sure why, but he feels his pants tightening at the sight of your painted lips.

After parking in his parent's driveway, he reaches for you, wanting to pull you in for another desperate kiss. You put your manicured finger to his lips, stopping him.

"Wait until we get inside, handsome," you smile as he looks at you with pleading eyes.

He nods, before pressing a kiss to your fingertip.

He then can't get out of the car fast enough, still going around to the side to open your door for you.

Once the front door is unlocked, you pull him inside, towards the living room. You're both surprised and glad that the house's layout has remained virtually unchanged since you were last there. You lead him to the couch and gently push him down, onto it. He gazes up at you, completely enamored as you straddle him.

You teasingly grind against him while his hands settle on your hips. Your hands move from his shoulders to his hair as you lean in close. His eyes close as he anticipates your kiss only to be surprised when your attention drifts lower, to his neck.

You nuzzle your nose against his skin, allowing his cologne to intoxicate you again.

"I've really missed you," you breathe before pressing a kiss to his freckled skin.

"I've missed you, too," he replies, breathless, "so fuckin' much."

"I don't ever want us to be apart again," you continue, between more crimson kisses.

"We won't be, I won't let it happen," he assures, as he shifts underneath you.

You smile against his skin before kissing your way to his collarbone.

"You promise?" You ask, peering up at him with doe eyes while you unbutton his shirt.

He swallows clumsily as he nods. "Yeah, I promise, honey."

After his shirt is unbuttoned halfway, you glide your nails through his newly exposed chest hair. The prettiest sounds fall from his lips and you can feel how he's throbbing underneath you, growing more desperate by the minute. You lean into him again, this time nuzzling your face to his chest. You flick your tongue over his nipple making him shiver above you.

"Christ, honey, I'm not gonna last much longer if you keep teasing me like this," he warns, raggedly.

You look up at him again, proud to have scored a rare victory over Steve Harrington.

"Am I too much of a tease for you?" You ask, after raising your head to fully meet his gaze.

"You already know the answer to that," he breathes before pulling you into a passionate kiss.

You move your hips again, subtly grinding against his strained bulge. His move instinctively with yours, still so desperate.

"Wait," he pants, after breaking the kiss. "Before we go any further, we need to go upstairs. I wanna do this right."

You look at his disheveled hair and lipstick stained lips and smile.

You reply with a soft kiss before he guides you to the stairs.

You instantly feel like a teenager again, following him to his room for the first time. That room holds so many memories that it feels surreal being back there.

Steve saunters to the bed, with his hand still entwined with yours. He stops in front of it and begins undressing. Your eyes travel his body, noting how he's definitely improved with age. When he's only left in his tight, black underwear, he sits on the edge of the bed and looks up at you.

The hungry look in his eyes is your silent cue to also undress. You slip your arms out of the sleeves of your dress and shimmy out of it. You try to take off your tights as seductively as you can, as the heat from his gaze is overwhelming.

You toss them to the floor, leaving you in your lacy, black lingerie. You then take a few steps closer to him, standing between his spread legs. His hands are immediately on you, roaming your body like it's already his.

"So fuckin' gorgeous," he laments, in awe of the sight before him.

"You're not so bad yourself," you reply, combing your fingers through his hair.

He smiles before leaning up to kiss you. Before you know it, he has you on your back, trailing kisses across your chest. You whine his name, fingers curling into his hair when you feel him leaving hickies on your sensitive skin.

"Every inch of you is fucking perfect," he pants, as he kisses down your stomach. "I want you to always remember that, okay?"

He glances up at you, his eyes consumed with desire. You nod, breathless and dazed. He returns his focus to your hips, nibbling on them before kissing lower, to the waist of your panties. He teases you by kissing around the soft skin of your thighs, before pressing his lips to the black lace. He presses his tongue against the soaked fabric, tasting your arousal. He moans into you before pressing more kisses to your clothed core.

His large hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you writhe against the bed. You whine and cry his name, begging for more. He soon releases his grip long enough to rip your panties down your legs and throw them to the side.

His mouth is on you again, greedily licking and kissing the most delicate part of you. Your fingers claw at his scalp, pulling at his hair when he fucks you with his tongue. His nails are digging into your skin as he moans into you. He's so painfully hard now that he's grinding himself against the bed.

You whine his name again, your body trembling around him. Moans and cries of his name echo off his bedroom walls as he brings you closer to release. He's relentless in how he's devouring you, vowing not to stop until you make a mess on his face.

He gets his wish when your thighs clamp around his head and your voice is practically horse from screaming his name. He keeps lapping at you, moaning loudly as well, though it's muffled. He finally looks up at you, pretty face grinning and glistening. He rests his cheek against your thigh, while you catch your breath.

"You're even sweeter than I remembered," he smiles, making you cover your face with your hands.

He then crawls up your body, hovering his face over yours. You reach for him, eagerly pulling him into a kiss. He presses his body to yours and you feel an unfamiliar dampness on your lower half.

"Did you...?" You ask, pulling away slightly.

"I think so, yeah," he cringes.

"That's so hot," you breathe, before kissing him again.

He whimpers into it, his sweaty body melting into yours.

"You should take them off anyway," you say, running your finger along the waistband of his underwear.

He immediately rolls onto his back and pulls his sticky underwear down his legs. He throws them to the floor then lays next to you. His eyes stay fixed on you as you sit up just enough to unclasp your bra. Once it slips off onto the floor, he's on top of you.

"So fucking pretty," he breathes, with his lips brushing yours. "Still want me, honey?"

"I want you," you whine. "I need you Steve, please..."

He rewards you with a kiss as he reaches between you and strokes himself.

"Say it again," he breathily commands, against your lips.

"I need you, Steve," you repeat, with your hands cradling his face.

"I'm yours, honey," he pants, as he eases himself inside you. "I always will be."

You gasp, your hands dropping to his shoulders as he slowly pushes in.

"Steve, I-" you say, your nails digging into his skin.

"I know, but you can take it," he assures. "I know you can, honey."

He kisses you again, distracting you from the stretch of him now deep inside you.

"See? Like I said, so goddamn perfect," he praises, between kisses.

You struggle to kiss him back, as you're already overwhelmed with pleasure.

His thrusts start out slow, letting you acclimate to him. Memories of all the times you were together like this in this room, in this bed, flood your mind. It's almost too much as tears well in your eyes.

"Hey, what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?" He softly asks, stilling his hips.

A light shade of pink covers your already flushed cheeks as you gaze up at him wistfully.

"This just feels so familiar, you know?" You explain, slightly embarrassed. "Like, remembering everything that happened here is just hitting me and it's a lot."

"I know what you mean," he admits, surprising you. "Being here can be too much for me sometimes, too."

He leans in and just nuzzles his nose against yours.

"I just really loved you and you broke my heart, and I almost never recovered," you reveal.

"'Loved?' So you don't feel that way anymore?" He questions, his lip starting to quiver.

"I still do," you answer, tearfully. "I love you, Steve."

He blinks away his own tears and sighs your name. "I love you, too, so goddamn much it hurts."

He presses his lips to yours excitedly. He breathes how much he loves you with every kiss as his hips start to move again. Once he sets a good rhythm, he buries his face in your neck, flicking his tongue over your skin before leaving little reminders of his affection.

You whimper his name, as you tighten your legs around his waist. He raises his head to kiss you again while his hips roughly meet yours. You know neither one of you is going to last much longer, as you're crying his name again and he's moaning more words of praise.

"Fuck, honey, I love you...I fucking love you so much..." he pants, before collapsing on top of you.

"I love you, too," you reply, combing your fingers through the ends of his hair.

He moves to lay next to you and quickly pulls you to him. You feel the scratch of his chest hair against your cheek when you rest your head against him.

After you each just lie there, listening to the other breathe, he finally says, "This is how it always should've been. It was always meant to be you."

You raise your head and look into his soft, hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," he continues as you smile.

"It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that we found our way back to each other,"you reply, reaching to cup his cheek.

"Will you spend the night with me?" He then asks, bringing his hand up and placing it over yours.

You nod, moving closer to his face. "Tonight and every night."

He smiles before pulling you into a sweet kiss.

What started out as your worst nightmare turned into a dream come true, as you were reunited with the love of your life. And it was all because of a simple trip to the video store.

❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️🩷❤️

🏷: @donaweasley @allergictosoup @daisy-is-a-writer @saddiesthings @yourfavoritewitchbitch @the-fairy-anon @kassy-djomunson @elsas-wife

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #soft smut #valentines day

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lovelykil · 16 hours ago

Note

PLEASE can we have a one shot of kil and reader like getting sorta freaky asl (making out) in schl, like prob in some closet or an empty classroom and we end up accidentally caught by probably fucking gon or one of killua’s siblings. thank u sexy 😋

after school hours─

ᯓ killua (older ver)

oneshot

note; this is a long one and ...f...freaky... shivers

the scent of drying acrylics filled the empty classroom, mingling with the faint remnants of school lunch and pencil shavings. The lights above buzzed softly, illuminating the art supplies scattered across the wooden smooth floor- brushes dipped in water, half-finished sketches, and a large white banner patiently waiting for its purpose to be used.

to be honest, staying after school on a Friday was not expected nor wanted. If you had the choice, you would be in your cozy bed fast asleep... but Gon asked so nicely for help and you could'nt exactly say no to those big brown chocolate eyes. So here you are, sitting on the floor and staring at the skecthes you made in order to plan out the banner for the upcoming festival. Killua laid on the ground looking up at the ceilling with no thoughts in that bored mind of his.

your eyes flicker at the boy and groan, "please tell me you finished your sketches." you plead, voice strained with exhaustion and desperation. Killua picks up his sketch book and raises it in the air to reveal his craft. "nothing much, but came up with this." he turns his head over, looking at you as you lean over to grab his notebook.

he returns staring at the unappealing ceilling with a blank expression, putting his arms behind his head for comfort as he lays on the floor.

you observe his piece and grab yours, comparing the two. To your surpise his was actually an eye catch! Who knew the boy could draw. You set your piece down and place his in the middle of the large banner with a slam. "Bravo! We're doing yours, now its time for a break."

you exclaim and stand up. You step over the banner and stand over him, legs on both of his sides. He looks at you curiously, "you're blocking my view." he mutters. You look up at the ceilling where he is looking, "quite the view, my apologies your highness." you look back at him with a grin. You step over him with a giggle as you hear him quietly scoff. You walk over to an empty desk and sit upon it.

Killua and you had to push the furniture back into the room for a more spacious environment for the banner and various art supplies. The room looked quite different after school, the lack of annoying chattering students at various desks, and lost papers and trash scattered across the room really made a difference. Even the dim lighting created a peaceful, and quiet atmosphere. Strange feeling.

"hmn! Hey, where did Gon go? Left us alone like a specific someone in his life." You plop yourself down on the surface of the desk with a huff, asking outloud. The silver haired teen leans up and dusts his clothing before replying to your question. "he said he's getting some snacks, remember? Well I guess not since you're asking me. What a shitty memory you have."

"alright, I didn't ask for sarcasm, ass." you roll your eyes and fold your arms to your chest. Killua walks towards you, his facial expression netural and calm as he approaches you. Though, he looks much more imtimidating up in person as he towers you. You feel a little helpless in his presence- like a deer about to be devored by its predator. What an odd feeling to feel when around your own boyfriend, but to you, it makes you a little warm inside-hot even.

"wasn't sarcasm." he responds, bluntly. His captivating deep blue eyes piercing down at you. Your hands unravel, "you're still an ass." The two of you lock eyes, held captive by an invisible force that refuses to let go. The thick string of tension continues to draw you and him in, like a spell was suddenly cast upon the both of you.

no words are exchanged when he leans in, forcing your legs to slowly open for him, and his strong hands softly placing themselves on both of your sides. You clench the sides of the desk and let out a hot puff of air, an attempt to control your urges... there was no way you guys were going to do something in this classroom... in this school!

...right?

"are you crazy? We can't do anything here..." you manage to mumble out, despite being out of breath already just from his touch. Your refusing behavior was amusing to him, your concerns for getting caught doing something sinfully was high, but your body yearning for attention was higher.

he carefully slips his digits beanth the fabric of your shirt and graces them across the plush of your cold naked skin. Your grip his shirt and let out an airy moan. Your tummy was light as a feather, the familar butterflies had come yet again, and all because of this jerk.

you lean your head on his chest, looking down with your eyes shut tight and breathing heavily as you feel his hands explore beneath your shirt. "want me to stop?" he asks you, his tone coming off as sincere yet teasingly. He watches you pick up your head and look him straight in the eye, the look of pure desire and weakness drives him mad.

the way your eyebrows knitted together in desperation, and your glossy lips parted to let out steamy air, made his mind fuzzy. But the thing that sent him over the edge, making his pants feel tight was your next few words, muttered in a desperate plea.

"please, kiss me,"

. . .

your back is suddenly pressed against the wall, you can no longer control the moans erupting from you as he uses his tongue as a paintbrush to mark your exposed skin. He twirls his warm tongue in a specific spot on your neck as if he were devouring some sweet treat. You were something so tasty, so sweet-he no longer could contain himself and take a bite of your wonderful sweet neck.

you grab a fist full of his unique hair and bite your lip, closing your eyes in the process. The sensation of him biting you was too much to bear, you loved it when he lost himself in your sweet aroma, forgetting to go easy on you since you were so fragile and delicate. Or so he believes.

Killua leans away in a frenzy and looks at you, still carrying you. "shit, I didn't mean to bite you. I think I drew blood." you touch your neck and bring your finger to your face, smeared blood stained your finger. You gaze back at him and smile, "you're okay, but you know what to do." you point to the spot on your neck he abused. His eyes flicker at the spot then at you.

you look at him and smirk, "lick it." the pale boy blushes bright red at your demand ultimately surprised, but he obeys and cleans up the mess by brushing his tongue against the bite slowly... making sure to savor your sweet blood. You make sure to creep near his ear and let out strings of your angelic moans just to get him worked up.

he presses himself against you hard, gripping the plush of your skin roughly at your mischievous behavior. His brows twitch as he finishes cleaning your neck. "you're being a real pain you know." you giggle at him and press your finger against his soft lips.

with your eyes in a daze and voice low and full of lust you whisper, "let's take this to that closet over there, yeah?" Killua looks over at the wide closet to the side of you both, it strangely looks like it could fit the both of you. one hell of a closet.

he looks back at you, and you nudge your head in that direction with a coy smile. "and you said I'm crazy." he mocks you from before. You roll your eyes playfully before leaning in to kiss him. He kisses you back with precision as he carefully lifts you away from the wall and motions toward the closet.

your hands roam all over his hair, only letting go to open the door. You frantically attempt to look for the handle, slapping your hand against the surface. You were too busy sucking on his face, but eventually, you found the handle and opened the door. The both of you pull away and look inside a bit out of breath from the kiss. He places you down on the ground and opens the door wider for you to slip in.

when you do, you can't help but snicker at this ridiculous idea. He follows behind and closes the door or attempts. He doesn't close it fully, but neither of you care since as soon as he entered, you wrapped your hands around his neck and stuck your desperate tongue inside his mouth with a smile.

. . .

"and then I told him I could do the banner! Even though I know nothing about drawing." Gon smiles widely as rubs the back of his head in a nervous manner. Alluka looks at the ravenette with a nervous smile, she was obviously confused and concerned at his poor thinking skills. "is... is that why you asked us to help?"

"yeah!" he cheers. The bag of snacks sways as he walks. Alluka hums and returns, looking at the empty halls. She begins to wonder in the silence that fell in between them.

"you think big brother and Y/n are fine? We've gone for a while looking for snacks everyone wanted..." Gon turns towards the worried girl, "we can run now so as to not keep them waiting any longer, how about that? Walking will only slow us down." The brunette looks at the boy, surprised by his response. He stops in the middle of the hall and holds out his hand. She looks down at it in curiosity then at him.

"Gon, what are you-"

"take my hand, so we can run together!" Gon chants, that glint in his eyes never wavering and the smile plastered on his face growing wider in growing confidence. Alluka's sapphire eyes seemed to glisten in his gaze, completely affected by his idea. She soon smiles softly and grabs his hand.

"okay! To big brother and Y/n!" she matches Gon's energy and turns her heel to run. It catches the boy off guard for a second, almost tripping on himself before he begins to run with her. The hallways begin to echo their laughs as they run together with the bags of treats kept up behind them.

when they reach the classroom they both pant in unison, still holding hands. A few seconds later Alluka looks down at their hands, as well as Gon. They quickly separate with a quick blush. Alluka goes to touch her lips with the hand she held his own in thought while Gon continues to look around the classroom, in search of his two friends. "where'd they go?" he steps inside, eyes flickering around the room. Alluka snaps out of her thoughts and joins him, her eyes float around the room til she lands on something peculiar.

the closet.

the door was slightly open, making her curiosity spike, she walks over towards Gon, "we should check the closet." The raventte looks over his shoulder at her, "the closet?" Alluka nods and points in the direction, his eyes follow. He blinks a few times, confused by her suggestion, but goes along with it by walking up to it. Alluka follows along with a curious expression.

as they grew closer, they could hear muffled sounds that sounded like.... someone in pain? The two were now growing concerned and anxious about what could be inside... it felt like they were in a haunted house about to open the creepy-looking door for the answer to everything. Alluka clutches Gon's shirt as his hand hovers over the black handle. Anticipation and eagerness filled the air, Gon hesitated to open the door. He was smiling, but it was more of a broken one—wanting to remain confident yet a bit terrified to the core... not really wanting to open the closet of mystery.

Gon takes a deep breath, containing himself before he yanks the handle open with Alluka tightly clutching his shirt harder and closing her eyes. The only sounds that were heard at the moment were the swishing of the bags of treats and the grand reveal... wasn't really at all so grand.. more like

terrifying.

frozen to death, stood you and Killua, faces painted with shock, and faces flush from the things they were doing earlier. You were down on your knees about to unbutton his pants while Killua's hand rested on your head. There was a brief moment of silence... but it felt like an eternity.. with Gon's terrified eyes flicking back at Killua, then you, then at Killua's pants, then back at his best friend. Gon begins to let out confused strings of "uuuuuhhhh-"

Alluka then begins to speak, "what happended are they in there? Big brother are you her-" The teenager begins to open her eyes slowly. It was then all three of you begin to shout "NO-" in a frenzy and rush to cover her eyes.

. . .

all five of you now sit on the floor with your snacks Alluka passed out since Gon was... well... traumatized. You slowly eat your crackers, spacing out in deep thought and pure regret next to you is Killua, whose face is redder than a tomato, refusing to eat his snacks. Alluka sets down her snack and surveys her friends with curious intentions then annoyed.

"what happened that made you all close my eyes!" she shouts, obviously annoyed nobody was explaining anything to her. The room remained dead silent, until Gon began to mutter nonsense.

"Y/n and Killua... they were... Y/n was... she... and Killua...pants..." You snap out of your daze and look at Gon, worridly.

"my god, we traumatized him."

#「 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐊𝐈𝐋 ᯓ 𖦹 」#hunter x hunter #hxh x reader #killua #killua x reader #killua zoldyck #:33

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4urvalidation · 2 days ago

Text

A CASE OF LIMERENCE | Chapter Nine

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

A/N: Apologies in advance for what my girl is about to do. Nothing is bigger than the shame you feel while writing down the content warnings like -

TW: MDNI! Smut is finally smutting, JJ to Rafe pipleline, graphic sexual content: characters being horny, groping, heavy petting, masturbation, failed attempts at dirty talk, implied praise kink, penetrative unprotected sex.

His face is inches away from her own; his hard body pressed tightly against her barely there dress… she feels his fingers sink into her waist… gripping, grasping before pulling her closer and closer and closer… until the only thing separating their lips is the warmth of his breath.

Leni closes her eyes.

He is going to kiss her.

Devour her.

Tear her from the inside out and put her back together again.

Except, he isn’t.

Out of the blue, she feels Rafe pull back. His touch forcibly removes itself from her achingly desperate body and she’s so devastated by it all; so desperate, she mewls. The sound leaves Leni frozen in shock. Betrayed by her own mind and lack of senses, she slaps her hand against her mouth, but it’s too late - he already heard just how badly she wants him.

Knees shaking - she can’t bear to look at him - Leni grips the window pane steadying both herself and the rapid beating of her heart. She can’t breathe, she can’t think… From the corner of her eye, she watches Rafe leave the room; his mouth probably twisted in that smirk that drives her absolutely crazy.

Every atom in her body is screaming, shaking to go and chase after him; grab him by the sleeve of that pristine white shirt of his and shamelessly beg for the present he was so keen on giving her.

But she doesn’t.

She can’t.

Three, slightly panicked knocks pull Leni back to reality.

Her mind had been drifting… spiraling and she might not remember how she got herself in a random bathroom, but she can remember the reason for it. With her heart stuck in her throat she glides herself to the door - unlocking, opening and there JJ is: wide eyed and exasperated.

She watches his mouth open as if he’s about to say something, but he never gets the chance. Her fingers wrap themselves around the loose collar of his shirt, pulling him inside the room and swiftly locking the door behind him.

Their first kiss has never been something she’s spent countless sleepless nights imagining, but even if she did, Leni would’ve never thought it would happen this way. Hungrily, she presses her lips against his own; kissing him like she wants to eat him alive and JJ is standing there, slightly frozen as if still not convinced this is happening.

She pulls back.

His eyes are red; pupils wild and blown out. Her lipstick’s splattered all over his lips and chin and he reeks of cheap cologne and weed and she will probably regret this later, but right now all she wants is sweet, sweet release.

“Fuck me.” The words practically shoot out of her mouth and JJ’s eyes were already wide to start with, but now they’re even wider and she’s so shameless; so desperate to feel the tiniest semblance of the rush she felt moments ago with Rafe, she practically plows herself into him.

JJ’s groans echo across the bathroom; his hardness pressing against Leni’s navel and she’s kissing his neck now; peppering his skin with dozens of tiny, teasing kisses as he lets his fingers push into her hair, pressing her closer and closer to his body.

“JJ” She whimpers his name into his skin as his other set of fingers cup her breast; his calloused thumb gently rubbing circles against her hard, needy nipple and fuck - he’s good. “I want you to fuck me.”

“F-fu… baby… I don’t have a condom.” He cries out in her mouth; his leg steadily placed between her thighs and Leni is so fucking wet, she can feel her wetness soaking into the fabric of his pants.

“Fingers. Use your fingers.” She hears breathless, achy moans fill the room as he shakily slides his hands under her dress. His calloused palms rub against the skin of her waist; thumb pushing under the barely there material of her thong and finally touching her where she needs him the most.

Except - no, no, no.

Leni refuses to allow her mind to think. Especially not now. Not when she’s finally getting that sweet, sweet relief, but JJ’s hands are too frantic, too angsty for her liking.

“Fuck, you’re wet.” He slurs drunkenly into her ear and she wants to tell him how it’s all his doing; how no one gets her wet like this; how his fingers are magic, but she can’t. The words have stuck themselves behind a massive lump in her throat, along with the moans she’s supposed to be faking as JJ thrusts his fingers in and out of her.

No.

He can’t be right.

Rafe must never, ever be right and Leni’s so worked up on proving him wrong, she’s barely focusing on the person right in front of her.

“You’re so fucking wet baby.” This time he says against her neck; his fingers still doing fuckall and if he keeps up with this tempo she’ll be drier than a fucking desert.

“Stop.” He does, but his fingers remain buried inside her. Frustrated, Leni pulls down his zipper and pushes her hand inside his pants, palming him. JJ groans - loudly, desperately - and in a matter of seconds, there he is: waxing poetic about how good she is. Through a string of moans, he babbles about the fantastic job she’s doing; how well she is at taking care of his aching cock and how badly he wants to feel her pretty mouth on him.

“Please, baby…” JJ cries out when she runs her thumb against his leaking head, her own needs long forgotten as he now grips her waist with both his hands. Her frustration grows with each passing second and his pleading isn’t helping at all. Stepping back, she lets go of him and the whimper that leaves his throat sounds unnervingly similar to the moan that left her mouth in that dark room.

“Take your clothes off.” Leni barks at him and doesn’t wait for his sexed up brain to register the order. She pulls the dress over her head - leaving herself in nothing but heels and a thong. “And fuck me.”

“But…condom…” He blubbers, cock twitching and she really doesn’t understand why he keeps pretending like he hasn’t been daydreaming about fucking her raw.

Batting her eyelashes, Leni presses her bare body against the cold bathroom sink; her legs spread open wide and hand gently trailing the path to her achingly wet pussy. “So, you’re just gonna let me do the job myself?” She coos, rubbing herself through her sopping thong. “How mean.” Her middle finger slides between her folds - making the tiniest of moans rip right out her throat and that’s all it takes.

Smirking, she watches JJ practically rip the clothes off his body before saddling himself between her legs. Calloused, desperate palms grip her waist, while his lips trace wet kisses from her jaw down to her breasts. He rolls her nipple between his tongue; his hard cock rubbing itself against her and she’s not sure whether he’s teasing her or just eager to taste all of her at once.

Either way - it’s still not working.

Leni digs her nails into the skin of his back as it’s finally her turn to beg, “Feel you…“ She bucks her hips at him. “Please… Jayj… I need… I need you inside me…” With one single movement, he pushes her thong to the side and slips inside her. The motion is eye watering; almost electrifying and nowhere near what she imagined sex with JJ would feel like, but then again - it’s not like she’s thought about it much.

Grunting, he slams himself inside her; littering the crook of her neck and chest with open mouthed kisses as she burrows her fingers deeper and deeper inside his flesh. Leni’s name and his blubbering about how good his cock feels wrapped around her tight, tight pussy loop inside the room and in her ears. He’s pounding into her; faster and faster as she breathlessly instructs him to and yet, she still feels nothing.

Swallowing, Leni closes her eyes and imagines a different body pressed up against her. Lither, taller, harder. He runs his tongue across the length of her jaw, calls her baby and praises her for being such a good girl. His good girl. She lets her mind drift further; presses her thumb against her clit and pretends it’s his.

Rafe’s.

A moan rips out of her throat and she slams her lips against JJ’s out of fear of saying the wrong name. Her brain conjures him again and he's reading her skin like braille; pulsing and throbbing inside her and finally - there it is. That sweet sense of release building in the pit of her belly; the feeling she’s been chasing ever since Rafe breathed those words inches away from her face.

Her fingers grasp at the hair on the back of JJ’s neck, rolling her hips against his own and -

“Fuck.”

JJ comes.

Inside her.

Immediately, as if shot, he pulls away - his wide eyes matching Leni’s and they stand there; buck naked and staring at one another. “Fuck. Fuck. I… I didn’t mean to! I was… I swear to god I was gonna pull out!”

“S’okay.” Leni pushes herself off the sink; her legs still shaky from the ordeal. She sounds tired. Downright defeated and most importantly still very horny, but at this point she’d rather just finish the job herself than have JJ try and dig for her g-spot again.

“You’re just… you’re so tight and it felt so good…-”

“Really, it’s-”

“You’re on the pill, right?” JJ says, his face lighting up and no - she isn’t. Never has and probably never will, but she can’t tell him that now, can she?

“Don’t worry about it.” For some reason he takes this as a yes and with a grin, smacks a big wet kiss on her lips. The idea of pushing him away feels kind of rude so she lets him hold her for a while before finally slipping out of his touch and reaching for the dress she oh so carelessly let fall onto the dirty bathroom floor.

What a way to start nineteen, Leni bitterly thinks to herself; hands gripping the material and she can’t fucking believe he actually came inside her! From the corner of her eye, she watches JJ gazing over at her; those clear blue eyes inspecting every inch of her naked body, only this time they are completely void of hunger.

His mouth opens briefly, as if he’s got something to say, but no words come out and Leni takes this as her queue to nip this awkward moment in the bud and have them finally move the fuck on.

“Can you leave?” She says hoarsely, almost in a whisper and when their gazes meet, JJ looks wounded. The sight causes a slight crack in Leni’s chest - she really doesn’t want to make him feel like she’s kicking him out, even though that’s exactly what she’s trying to do, “I need to pee.”

The sheepishness in her voice is all it takes for the glint in his eye to return.

JJ nods, his fingers immediately wrapping themselves around the door knob.

“Jay.” She calls after him and when their eyes meet, he is beaming, “Put some clothes on first.”

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron smau #rafe cameron x oc #obx fanfiction #original character #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #jj maybank #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #outer banks #jj x oc #jj maybank x oc #jj smut #jj maybank smut

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themareverine · 2 days ago

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for your valentines asks 💕

eddie alden - fluff - Valentine’s Day date, i feel like he’d act like it’s effortless on the outside but be freaking out trying to make it all perfect on the inside cause it’s Valentine’s Day yknow

— Not in Kansas

eddie alden x fem!reader warnings: fluff, lots and lots of fluuuuff! a/n: the kickoff to my ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ From Mare, with Love 💌💌Valentine's Celebration! And it's EDDIE! this was fun! my first dive into Eddie, bless him. And I'll have you know, this is EXACTLY 1400 words, as promised.

☆ ── 💌FROM MARE WITH LOVE

“Oh my gosh, Eddie! I can’t believe it’s you!”

Eddie can’t remember the last time there’s ever been a hitch in his breath talking to a member of the opposite sex, but the feeling is weirdly familiar as he steps forward to receive her in a hug. She’s warm as her arms snug up around his neck, smelling like jet fuel and something else he can’t remember.

Her smile brightens as she breaks first, fingers curled lightly into the shoulders of his jacket.

“Hey yourself,” he smiles, shrugging a shoulder, “finally made it to my city, huh?” It’s only taken six months for their corporate higher ups to figure out how to get her out here. Ten days doesn’t seem like enough, and it probably will never be—not for him.

A year of emails back and forth and hours on the phone had painted a unique work environment, a style they’d made their own. But he didn’t complain. Wouldn’t complain.

Those silly little See ya sometime, E! email sign offs at the end of the day were really the only thing that kept him sane.

His pulse jumps a little as she giggles, her tone airy and light. “Your city? Pretty sure New York is still owned by the American people,” her arm slips through his effortlessly as she tucks into his side, “All those ugly taxes—but. Are you always so possessive, Alden?” The way her brow furrows sends his gut into his knees, but you wouldn’t know it.

Brows bouncing, Eddie’s smile cocks crookedly. His pitch drops playfully, “Only if you ask, princess.”

Her eyeroll is less than serious, offset by the dismissive little pff that slips from her lips. Pressing tighter against him, her eyes wander the skyline to the Goliaths of buildings standing sentinel against the overcast of low clouds and gray sky. Wonder ripples off of her like a river, her arm is heavily looped through his — and there’s a tiredness that pulls at the corner of her eyes.

He can tell it’s been a long day of hopping flights. JFK is a nightmare even for the well-adjusted.

Distraction is his best bet to take her mind over the hop of the city, the press of people. He knows the feeling of being under a microscope—most New Yorkers will dismiss it away, but in faraway and down places, the reality of it never really leaves, per se.

“I hope you don’t have any big plans tonight,” his elbow gently nudges into her side, his other hand adjusting grip on her luggage, “because a little birdy told me he went to all the trouble in New York to make reservations at the most mediocre pizza joint in the city,” her attention whips back to him, smile a little crooked hanging out on her mouth, “and trust me, that’s no easy feat—it’s Valentine’s Day you know, Dorothy.”

“Dorothy was from Kansas, Alden,” the idea is emphasized as if he couldn’t possibly know it — but that’s not what gets him.

His pulse skips when she brushes a little closer against his side from the street traffic, her cheek lingering on his shoulder, “that’s sweet of you, I’m pumped. But to be clear— you do know where Kansas is, right?”

Her little way of skating in out of subjects and tying them back together never ceases to make him chuckle. Some part of him hopes it never will.

He swallows the burst of anxiety that snakes up the back of his throat, lifts a brow. “I’m not kidding, it’s not the best pizza in the city, but it isn’t a greasy spoon, either—it’s authentic, and they know me there,” nodding to the corner, he steps close, and Eddie swears to Christ there is viable electricity in his fingers when hers brush against the back of his hand.

“Wait, you’re saying Minneapolis isn’t in Kansas?”

Jilted laughter lights up her tone as she playfully punches his shoulder, the snap of chill in the air painting her cheeks a vermillion that isn’t anything he’d ever think of her over the phone or behind a screen.

She’s actually nothing like he imagined, all soft curves and starry-eyed. And he’s not sure if he’s disappointed or relieved, it’s all the same feeling that passes through the heat in his stomach.

Another feeling dips into his chest, something like excitement. It’s deeper, hungrier even, grappling for dominance.

For the first time since high school, he’s not sure what to say – how to move on beyond this feeling of her laughter between them, her smile at studying the city like a thrilled child as bright as the sun he hasn’t felt for weeks.

And while he definitely knows that Minneapolis is nowhere near Kansas, he isn’t quite so sure she’s as innocent as Dorothy as his comment suggests.

She’s the first to break the silence. It shatters like a glass ceiling.

“Can I be honest?”

Thank God, “You mean you haven’t been?” Mock surprise jades his tone, before his smile quicksilvers into a teasing smirk, “All this time? How dare you lead me on that like this!” While the sapphire blue of her eyes lights up with mirth, her smile is small, entertained.

Immediately he realizes the severity of the next moment, wishes he’d never said anything. “Oh. You’re being grown up, right now. Damn. Okay, shoot, princess,” the light flashes, and the crowd shoots forward into the sidewalk, “I’m all ears.”

Her chuckle is barely there, but he feels it as her arm slips from his, hands shoving into the deep pockets of her coat. “You aren’t what I expected, Eddie,” recognition flickers as his hand at her low back gestures they hang a right, towards the station. When he says nothing but manages a scoff, she backpedals, eyes wide with panic, “I mean, not like that, no—just, none of this is what I expected—”

“—careful, Dorothy,” his tsk is soft, hand on her shoulder, “rule numero uno of the big city, princess—never let anyone know you ain’t from here,” leaning in close, his lips brush the shell of her ear. She smells cherry sweet, almost saccharine—so tempting. He’d only been dreaming of this moment for a year, listening to her airy little voice on the phone which carries its mirth even into reality. He can almost taste it, the feel of her.

“I that obvious?” Eyes flicking up to find his own, his head tips to the side. Eddie brushes a curl from her face.

It’s not a serious question, but the lilt in her tone is a little richer, a little deeper—probing. Feeling. It hangs between them unspoken, all their phone calls. Every idea. Each of her little smiley faces and flirty emails. All of everything they’ve ever said, everything they’d ever implied, is painted in the way her eyes fall to his mouth.

Unsteady, Eddie swallows a nervous chuckle. “Not really,” his eyes skirt the features of her face, lingering on the curve of her lips, “not unless you look real close, sweetheart. Nothing about you is obvious. Never has been.”

Foot traffic picks up at the bottom of the stairs leading down, and he grabs her arm, ushering her towards the platform, “All part of the allure, I guess?”

Her smile is slow, almost calculated. “Something like that,” her nose scrunches, teasingly. “Is this where we get on?” Her eyes follow the length of the subway track, and it’s the most adorable thing in the world, how she raises on her toes to look farther—so much for not looking the part. “It’s so huge, E!”

His hand slips into hers, tugging her a little closer to his side. “Yeah, princess, this is where we get on,” he rolls his eyes, “they don’t have subways in Minneapolis? Honestly? How do you people live?”

Shrugging a shoulder, her head cocks to the side. “Same way you do, E,” her elbow cuts into his ribs, lingers there as her hand gently slips into the warmth of his pocket, “One day a time—minus the big scary underground public transit system.”

She fixes the collar of his jacket, fingers curling into the worn leather of his sleeve, “That’s all we can do, just take it a day at a time, right?”

“Right,” he confirms, a little breathlessly. “One day at a time.”

Never did find her way back to 'Kansas'—wherever the hell that was.

💌 tagging:

@sidkneeeee

@thevoicefromanotherworld

@misscrissfemmefatale

@eternallyfrustratedwriter

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@laaadygisbooornex3

@itsafullmoon

@kmc1989

@steviebbboi

@matronmothercrone

#eddie alden #someone like you 2001 #someone like you #hugh jackman #eddie alden x reader #mare writes #valentine's day #mare's 14 for february 14 #lovecore #mare’s moots 💛

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lovesickfae · 3 days ago

Text

14DWY is an 18+ game! Minors DNI!

Ren/AFAB reader

Summary: You find out what’s in Ren’s “storage room” though you don’t seem to mind that much.

Or angel matches Ren’s freak.

Word count: 2.9k

Ren belongs to: @14dayswithyou

Also Happy birthday my beloved RenRen ^_^

Your eyes land on the warm light that seeps through the cracks of your beloved boyfriend's storage room door. You’ve always thought it was strange that the lights seem to be on at all times, but you figured with the sheer size of the apartment he lives in he probably doesn’t pay much mind to the electrical bill. However, in this very moment -with Ren out on a trip to the grocery store to gather the missing ingredients of the dinner you were preparing- The urge to just take a peek at the room the pink-haired man always acted so secretive about, became a lot stronger. I mean, what's the harm, right? According to Ren the only thing occupying that room was just a bunch of junk. It couldn't possibly be worse than the state your own apartment is in anytime life gets too much. you'd be the last person to judge a messy room. You'd just take a quick look to get rid of that unsettling feeling you always get whenever you're near it. Ren wouldn't know you'd seen the mess, and you could finally stop overthinking it. A win-win situation.

You get up from your seat and slowly make your way over to the mahogany door. Your lift your hand, pausing in doubt for a second, before attempting to turn the doorhandle. It doesn't budge. Your brows furrow in confusion, the lock on the ominous door further inducing your anxiety. With a new found determination you reach into your hair and take out a bobby pin, still remembering how to pick a lock from that one time you locked yourself out of your apartment. You fiddle with the bobby pin until you eventually hear a click. You reach for the door handle again, and this time the door opens. You hesitate before entering.

Your eyes widen in shock as you take in your surroundings. The walls are covered entirely in photos of you. Every. Single. Inch. There are photos of you that are years old, photos that you didn't take yourself, photos that you've never posted or sent to any one, photos of you with your friends, though every face aside from yours have been aggressively scratched out. And are those... photos of you sleeping?

That's not the only thing. There are stacks of clothes- your clothes- clothes you thought you lost years ago. You recognize used napkins and cups from your favorite cafe, traces of your lipstick still lingering on them.

All of a sudden everything clicks. Violet seeing a tall guy leave your apartment. The feeling of being watched. Ren's constant personality switching. His possessiveness over you. His discontent for your friends. His clinginess. Him knowing things about you that you had never told him. Your missing laundry. It was all so obvious.

Ren makes his way into his apartment, groceries still in hand. "Angel?" He calls out with a smile on his face, like an overexcited puppy returning to its owner. "I'm home!"

His brows furrow when he's met with nothing but silence. He walks further into the apartment, putting down the bags in his search for you. He walks towards the living room, expecting to see you asleep on the couch. Unease begins to rise within him, when you're nowhere to be seen. He calls out your name as he continues his search for you, moving towards the hallway.

Dread. Horrifying dread, is the only thing going through Ren when his eyes are met with the open door to his "storage room''.

He doesn't even register that his feet had carried him into the room up until the moment he stood before you, your back facing him.

"A- angel?" He utters out, sounding more fearful and uncertain than he had ever before.

You turn around very slowly. Your eyes are wide with confusion and fear. Like a deer caught in headlights. Ren's heart aches at the sight of you. This wasn't how It was supposed to go. He can fix this. He has to fix this. He tries to remain calm. He tells himself that worst case scenario, he'd just have to start over. Create a new persona. Win back your love.

Your name falls from his lips again. "I can explai-" You interrupt him before he can finish. "Did you-" you breathe out and a smile slowly begins to form on your lips. "Did you do all of this for me?" You seem almost ecstatic.

"What?" A million thoughts race through Ren's head. You moved towards him, placing a hand on his face. His breath hitches and he finds himself almost frozen, pure confusion etched onto his face. You should hate him. Now that his Haruko persona had slipped up, you should be yelling and running telling him how disgusting, creepy and outright violating this is. Yet you stood before him looking at him as though he were a saint. Caressing him with the tenderness of a devoted follower. Your lips land on his. All his confusion and fear get pushed away, the only thing occupying his mind being the feeling of your lips on his, repenting him of all his sins. He breaks out of his trance and kisses you back fervently, hands landing on your waist to pull you as close as humanly possible.

You were the one to break the kiss, Ren looks down at you lovestruck, eyes half lidded, panting and already hard. "Yes, it's all for you. Everything i do is." You tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. A smile still beams on your face.

"This is the sweetest thing someone has ever done for me." You say breathlessly.

Ren's confidence begins to grow when he feels you slowly grinding into him. A smirk appears on his face, you let a small yelp of surprise, when he pushes up his leg in between your thighs. You pause for a second. "Go ahead angel. Don't stop now." That confirmation was all you needed to continue rutting into him. You resume your movements on his -still clad- leg. The friction of the cloth only pushing you to grind that much harder into him. Ren smiles, one hand on your waist to hold you steady, the other moving all over your body, eventually settling on your massaging your breasts through your shirt. "God." He sighs. "Angel, if I had known you were into this, I would've showed the extent of my devotion to you much, *much* sooner. Your only response is to moan. He kisses you again, deeper and more dominating this time. You melt into him completely.

Before you know it, you're being lifted off your feet as Ren carries you to the far end of the room where a large desk stands. He sets you down atop of it. In between more of your belongings and pictures. Ren latches his mouth onto your neck and your hands slip under his shirt. Before your eyes get a chance to roll back in pleasure, they spot a pair of your –probably used- underwear on the desk. You let out a particularly loud moan as Ren continues leaving mark after mark on your skin. You remove your hands from under his shirt. One moving to grab the panties, the other finding it's place in his hair. You pull his head back with one sharp movement, there's a look of mischief in your eyes. You hold out the panties Infront of his face, balancing them on one finger. Ren moans, head bend at an awkward angle from the tight grip you hold on his hair. "How often have you jerked off using these?" You taunt him. Rens eyes widen, unsure of what to respond. "c'mon answer me. I know you do. You wouldn't have these otherwise."

Ren relents. "I- I don't know. Often. All the time. I think about you all the time." He whines. You feel yourself grow wetter at his confession. You take advantage of his panting and shove the panties into his open mouth, gagging him. He gladly accepts. "I bet this isn't your first time having them in your mouth. I bet you were wishing your mouth was on my pussy while you moaned and whined as you got off on my used underwear like a creep." Ren whines and nods his head pathetically in confirmation. Your free hand grabs hold of his face, squeezing his cheeks together, your face only an inch from his. "My creep.”

At that Ren breaks free from your hold with ease, removing the panties from his mouth, giving them one final lick, while never breaking eye contact. He takes both of your hands into one of his, pinning them Infront of you. He kisses you. "All yours. Only yours." He kisses you again. ''You're telling me you've never touched yourself thinking about me angel? I know you have. Or else you wouldn't be here. Reading this."

Ren continues kissing you, slowly moving down further with every kiss he leaves until he eventually reaches your core. He somehow manages do undo your pants with only one hand, the other still occupied with keeping your hands pinned. His teeth graze over your clit, still covered by your panties. "You're so fucking wet." He groans and proceeds to lick a stripe over the already soaked piece of cloth before taking them off. He stashes them away in his pocket, his face only inch from your aching cunt. "For my collection." He mumbles before finally putting his mouth on the place you need him the most. He moans into you. His free hand is placed on your hip to keep you steady.

Ren eats you out like a man starved. Lapping up your juices like water in a desert. His tongue going back and forth from circling your clit to dipping into your wet heat. You moan and buck your hips into his face. "Ah-yes. Use me. Use me to make yourself feel good." He says in between licks. He finally let's go of your pinned hands, opting to instead put his fingers to use by burying two of them in between your walls. He begins pushing in and out, excruciatingly slow at first. You whine. He says nothing, too busy sucking on your clit to respond.

You grab hold of his hair again, pushing his face deeper in between your legs. Grinding into him as though your life depends on it. Ren swears he's been sent to heaven. Here on his knees. Worshipping you on your shrine like the heavenly being you are. You own him completely. His heart doesn't beat to pump around the blood in his body, nor to keep him alive. It beats for you, and for you alone. It beats in an achingly painful, yet blissful, pace of love and devotion when it comes to you. Surely it would give out if he ever went but a second without you. He can only see, so he can stare at your divine beauty until his eyes dry out. He can only hear to take in the melody of your voice. He can only smell, so his nose fills with the scent of your sweet perfume. He can only touch, to trace his fingers over your silklike skin. He can only taste so that he can taste your sweetness on his tongue. And God, you taste oh so sweet.

His fingers begin to pick up the pace. Your body begins to stiffen and Ren knowns you're getting close. he's seen it a million times before. How your eyes squeeze shut, how you hold your breath as you begin to shake. It is so, so much better getting to see it in real life, up close. Getting to be the one that makes you cum.

He spells out his name with his tongue in his final licks, before sucking on your clit harder than ever before. You cum around his fingers and mouth. Hard. So hard you almost see stars. Your moans increase in volume, and you begin to shake, yet he doesn't stop, he doesn't even slow down. You squeeze your thighs around his head from the overstimulation and the moan he lets out his almost animalistic. His cock is so painfully fucking hard against his pants, yet he remains focused on you, fingers scissoring inside you, face covered in your slick. Your eyes fill with tears as you cum a second time. Ren finally pulls his head away; however, you're barely given room to breathe as Ren gets up and eagerly shoves his tongue inside your mouth. You happily accept what he offers, tasting yourself on his lips. He grinds into you and grunts. You notice how pent up he is and start moving your hand towards his hard-on. Before you get the chance to come in contact with it, he grabs your hand and does it for you, moving your hand over the bulge in his pants. He buries his face in your neck, breathing in your scent as he continues rutting into your hand. A wet patch beginning to form on the cloth of his pants.

You lift your hand away from his pants, in order to take off his sweater. He returns the favor by taking off yours, he places soft kisses onto your breasts. Your hands are now at the edge of his turtleneck. Your eyes meet his, your concern showing. "Can I take this off Ren?" He pauses for a second, contemplating it, before slowly nodding his head. He places his hands on yours, helping you remove the last piece of fabric standing in between him and his marred skin. His eyes search yours and he holds his breath, anticipating your response. Your eyes rake over his bare chest and arms. You drag your hands over him. "You're beautiful Ren."

He sighs in relief, he finds you smiling, eyes fixed on the tattoo of your name occupying his throat. You kiss it. Once, twice, trice. Mouth lingering longer each time. You move onto the scars on his arms, littering them with feather light kisses, as though you're afraid of hurting him. Ren's eyes begin to water. "I- I don't deserve you angel." His voice is fragile. "Love you s'much." Tears begin to fall. You take notice of them and wipe them away, oh so gently. Replacing them with kisses. "What are you talking about? If anything, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. No one's ever cared for me like this. I should be the one calling you angel." Ren places a kiss on top of your head, like you're the most precious thing in existence. "You deserve everything. you are everything." Ren responds breathlessly.

His mouth lands on yours again. He kisses you. Years of longing and pent-up emotion finally pouring out. He keeps one hand on your face, the other moves down towards your body. Tracing the curves of your bare skin. You move to unzip his pants, finally freeing his aching erection. His member throbs in your hand as you pump it up and down. You align it with your entrance. His eyes search yours and you nod before he starts pushing in.

He pauses once he's all the way in. Giving you time to get adjusted to his size. After a moment, your hands on his back start pushing him forward, urging him to start moving. He starts off painfully slow, teasing you by pulling out almost entirely, leaving his head at your entrance, before slamming back in. However, it doesn't take long for him to lose control, pounding into you. He barely registers muttering confessions into your ear. "Wanted this f''so fucking long angel. Love you s'much."

You gasp "I love you too Ren. Tell me every disgusting thing you've done. Please."

Ren obliges without hesitation, his only need to obey you, to please you. "I- I watch you through your webcam. I see everything you do all the time. I touch myself whenever you do, I match your pace, pretending like I’m the one that’s making you feel good. God I can’t believe I finally get to have you.”

Your nails dig into his back, leaving scratches in their wake. "Fuck- yes mark me. Show everyone that we belong to each other." He grunts. You oblige and he starts repeating your name in a mantra, thrusting harder and harder in between each time he utters out your name. His hand moves down to your over sensitive clit and swear you begin to see stars. “You’re close sweetness, I know.” Ren whispers lovingly. “M’too. Wanna fill y’up so bad.” He mumbles, barely audible.

You let go one final time, so intensely you thought you’d faint. Ren follows shortly after. Emptying himself inside of you. You stroke his hair as you both try to catch your breath. He eventually pulls out of you, his cum beginning to drip down your thighs. Your lips meet again and before you know it, you’re being carried to bed. He puts you down, covering you with the sheets, then slips in next to you, wrapping his arms around you. You’re the first to fall asleep, Ren takes his time admiring you until he can’t keep his eyes open any longer. That night, Ren slept better than he ever had before.

#14 days with you #14dwy #14dwy ren #14dwy redacted #male yandere #yandere #obsessive love #obsessive behavior #obsessivecore #yanderecore #yandere x reader #ren x reader #redacted x reader #reader insert #possessiveness #possesive love #possessive #yandere visual novel #male yandere x reader

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