#laughing and uncomfortable at the same time

[linoxpudding]

Matchmaking Mission- Kim Seungmin

summary: your friends had enough seeing you and seungmin being oblivious pabos— tired of the back-and-forth, they take matters into their own hands, setting up a series of schemes to finally get you two to admit what’s been obvious all along

pairing: seungmin x reader, bsf!jeongin x reader

genre: fluff, drama, friends-to-lovers

fic type: written + text

a/n: had so much fun writing this request, included a bit of forced proximity trope too

Masterlist

~°~

Seungmin prided himself on being a composed person. He didn’t get overly emotional, he didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, and he certainly didn’t get jealous.

At least, that’s what he thought.

Until you walked in.

At first, you were just Jeongin’s friend. An old classmate, someone from his past who had somehow found a way into their present. It was easy to ignore you at first. But then you kept showing up. And then you started talking to him. And that’s when it became a problem.

Because you were funny. And smart. And kind. And you made fun of him in a way that made his stomach feel weird.

And then, worst of all, you started sitting next to him.

That’s when he knew he was in trouble.

The Lovebirds Texts

The Bestie Bickerings

The Matchmaking GC

Operation 1: Denial and the Jealousy That Definitely Didn’t Exist

“Y/N, have you ever considered how muscular Changbin is?”

Seungmin’s head snapped up so fast he almost got whiplash.

Felix, who had casually thrown out the question, smirked as if he had planned this.

Completely oblivious to the brewing storm beside you, you tilted your head. “I mean, yeah? It’s kind of impossible not to notice.”

Seungmin felt his jaw clench.

“Oh, yeah,” Han chimed in, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Changbin has insane arm muscles. I bet you would feel so safe if he carried you, right Y/N?”

You laughed, playfully nudging Changbin. “Guess I’ll have to test that theory.”

Seungmin nearly scoffed out loud. What kind of dumb theory was that? What, was Changbin a chair now?

He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to leave the room. Or flip a table. Either one.

Instead, he opted for silence.

Hyunjin obviously noticed Seungmin’s weird behaviour and turned to him with a teasing grin. “What, bro? You look grumpy.”

Seungmin’s eye twitched. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin asked.

“Positive.” Seungmin grumpily replied.

“You look like you want to throw something.” Chan pointed out.

“Just thinking about how dumb you all sound, especially Y/N.” Seungmin shrugged.

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he replied.

The others were watching with thinly veiled amusement, Felix whispering something to Jeongin, who immediately burst into laughter.

“Seungmin, are you jealous?” Minho smirked.

The room fell silent.

Seungmin’s ears burned. “No.”

“Are you sure?” Changbin pressed.

“Absolutely.”

Jeongin smirked. “Then you wouldn’t mind if Y/N sat on Changbin’s lap, right?”

Changbin choked.

Seungmin looked ready to set the entire apartment on fire. “What kind of nonsense—”

“You just said you weren’t jealous.” Jeongin said.

“I’m not. I just think you’re making Y/N uncomfortable.”

You protested, "No, I'm not!"

Han snickered. “Sure, buddy. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Seungmin glared at him. “Shut up.”

You just leaned back, amused. Is he really jealous? You felt sudden goosebumps. But you quickly shoved that thought out of your mind. You were just imagining things. Seungmin? Jealous? Over you? No way.

Beside you Jeongin grinned, whipping out his phone and texting in the group, "Step one of the plan is working. Time for phase two."

Operation 2: Forced Proximity

Over the next few days, you and Seungmin mysteriously found yourselves seated next to each other at every possible opportunity.

Lunch? Next to each other.

Movie night? Stuck on the same couch.

Car ride? Squished together in the backseat.

“Why do I keep ending up next to you?” You frowned, staring at the now very cozy seating arrangement.

“No clue,” Seungmin mumbled, trying not to focus on how close you were.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys sat across from you both, giving each other secret thumbs-ups.

“Okay, maybe if they get physically closer, they’ll realize something,” Jeongin whispered.

Han grinned. “Should we ‘accidentally’ trap them somewhere next?”

“Dude. That’s genius.”

Operation 3: The Classic ‘Oops, You’re Locked In’ Trick

You frowned as you tugged at the balcony door. “Why is it locked?”

Seungmin groaned. “I swear, if this is them again…”

“Probably,” You muttered. “Can’t they not annoy us for one minute?”

Seungmin let out an exasperated sigh. “Apparently not.”

After a few more attempts to open the door, you gave up. “Great. Locked in here.”

Seungmin rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the floor, then up at the sky, feeling the awkward tension in the air. “I guess... this isn’t too bad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

Seungmin hesitated, his voice soft. “Well... it's peaceful out here.”

You smiled, noticing the shy look in his eyes. “Yeah. It’s actually kinda nice.”

Seungmin turned his gaze away, trying to hide the soft blush creeping on his face.

Just as the moment lingered, Minho’s voice rang out from the other side of the door. “Ouch! You stepped on my foot, you idiot!”

You and Seungmin froze, exchanging an exasperated glance before laughing.

“You know, maybe they should lock us in here more often,” You joked, and Seungmin chuckled, feeling the warmth in his chest grow.

But still, neither of you acknowledged the growing feelings between you both—at least, not yet.

Before Seungmin could speak again, the door suddenly exploded open with a loud crash, as if a small stampede had broken it down.

Minho, along with the rest of the boys, stood on the other side, all of them pushing and shoving as they tried to listen to your conversation...accidentally broke the door.

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!" Changbin yelled, holding his hands up as the door swung wide open.

Seungmin stared at the wrecked door in disbelief. “You guys broke it down?”

You couldn't hold in your laughter. “Great job, guys. You’ve officially destroyed the door. What now?”

Minho quickly said, “You’re welcome for getting you two out of there. We basically saved your lives.”

Seungmin rolled his eyes, “I can’t believe you guys...”

You, still laughing, added, “At least I got some peace and quiet for a bit before you wrecked it. Nice try, though.”

As the boys all started blaming each other, Seungmin and you exchanged a look—and shared laughter.

Mission: Failed.

Operation 4: Pretend One of Them Is Interested in Y/N

“Alright,” Chan sighed, rubbing his forehead. “We need another new plan.”

The rest of the boys nodded solemnly.

It had been weeks. Weeks of painfully obvious flirting, of stolen glances, of lingering touches.

And yet?

Nothing.

Not one confession. Not even progress.

They were sick of it.

“They need a push,” Felix declared.

“They need a shove,” Minho corrected.

Han nodded. “We have to make them more jealous.”

“They already are jealous,” Jeongin pointed out. “Seungmin just refuses to acknowledge it.”

Hyunjin smirked. “Then let’s force him to.”

They all finalised a plan and went to the living room. Felix was chosen as the 'fake-love-interest'. He went to sit beside you while you were munching on a peanut butter sandwich.

“I think Felix has a crush on Y/N,” Jeongin said sitting beside Seungmin on the couch.

Seungmin, who was casually scrolling on his phone, froze.

“…What.”

“Yeah,” Jeongin continued. “They’ve been texting a lot. He even told me Y/N looked extra pretty today, like look at them.”

Seungmin felt his eye twitch. He looked over the dining area and—yep. Felix was leaning in just a little too close to you.

“Are you serious?” Seungmin scoffed. “Felix is just nice with everyone.”

“But what if he actually likes Y/N?” Hyunjin smirked joining them.

Seungmin slammed his phone down.

“Then I’ll—” He stopped himself.

The group silently leaned in.

“…You’ll what?” Changbin asked, grinning.

“…Nothing,” Seungmin muttered. “Because it’s none of my business.”

You, still oblivious, walked over. “What are you guys talking about?”

Jeongin smirked. “Oh, nothing. Just Seungmin—”

Seungmin kicked his shin. “Shut up.”

Operation 5: The Breaking Point & The Confession

The group finally gave up when they realized Seungmin was never going to confess first.

So naturally, you snapped first.

It was late. Everyone was hanging out, and once again, Seungmin was sitting next to you, being his usual sarcastic, annoying self.

“You really love bothering me, huh?” You muttered.

Seungmin smirked. “It’s my favorite hobby.”

And suddenly, you had enough.

“Okay, listen to me, I can't take this any longer,” you blurted out, standing up. “I have to tell you something."

“What's wrong?” Seungmin looked confused.

You let out a nervous chuckle, “you know what, forget it.”

“No, tell me.”

“Let it go.”

“You know I won't, so just spill it already—”

“I LIKE YOU, I like you, alright? Like a lot. And I swear to god, if you make a joke right now, I will throw you out the window.”

Silence.

The room was dead silent.

Seungmin just stared.

“…You—”

“Yes,” You huffed. “And if you don’t feel the same, that’s fine, I’ll just—”

Seungmin suddenly grabbed your wrist.

“…Who said I didn’t feel the same?” His voice was softer now.

You blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I thought you knew,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… didn’t think you’d actually like me back.”

The room collectively exploded.

“OH MY GOD FINALLY.”

“IT TOOK FIVE OPERATIONS.”

Jeongin fake wiped a tear. “Our hard work… it paid off.”

Hyunjin clapped dramatically. “And that, my friends, is a successful matchmaking mission.”

Seungmin groaned. “You guys are the worst.”

You just smiled, feeling your heart race as Seungmin’s hand lingered in yours.

“You two better be happy now!” Changbin teased, laughing. “Operation success!”

Seungmin glanced at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as the group continued to celebrate their victory. The tension that had been building between you both for so long was finally gone, replaced with a quiet but undeniable warmth.

You smiled at the group, but Seungmin wasn’t done yet. Without missing a beat, he took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers in a smooth, almost secretive motion. He then leaned in, voice low but sincere. “Let’s get out of here.”

Before the others could react, Seungmin gently pulled you away from the group, heading towards his room with you in tow. His grip on your hand was firm, yet gentle, as if he was afraid of letting go even for a second. You felt giddy.

The boys, still celebrating, watched them leave in silence, eyes wide in surprise. “Did… they just…” Hyunjin started, his voice a little stunned.

“I guess they did,” Minho said, shaking his head with a smirk. “Mission accomplished, I guess.”

Meanwhile, Seungmin and you found yourselves alone in his room, the door clicking shut behind you. The noise of the celebration faded away as Seungmin turned to face you, a small but warm smile playing on his lips.

You looked at him, heart racing in your chest, a shy smile forming on your face. “So, this is happening, huh?”

Seungmin’s smile widened as he stepped closer, gently brushing his thumb over the back of your hand. “Yeah, it’s happening.” He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, “Finally.”

You met him halfway through and pressed your lips in a loving, sweet kiss filled with the unspoken connection that had been growing between you two for so long.

-----------------

Taglist:

@4ng3l-ch1ld @dolphin-scream-s (added a bit proximity trope here, will be posting for others soon!)

[eclipsxntice]

im afraid you killed it with this one

[mrs-delaney]

Hide | The Set-Up | Chapter One

Summary: Joe Burrow never liked talk shows, but a post-Super Bowl appearance on The Tonight Show was part of the job. He expected scripted questions, football talk, and a few forced laughs with Jimmy Fallon. What he didn’t expect? A surprise guest—Riley Carter, the lead singer of The Rambles, a band he’s quietly admired for years. A harmless game of “Love Match” turns into national TV humiliation when Joe picks Riley over every celebrity presented—only to have her walk out onto the stage moments later. What started as his worst nightmare might just turn into something much more interesting.

Pairings: Joe Burrow x Riley Carter (OC)

Word Count: 5.6k

Requested: No | Yes

Warnings: Mild language, talk show ambush, secondhand embarrassment, and undeniable chemistry

This story is ONLY posted on Wattpad and Tumblr under miss_delaney. If you see it anywhere else, it has been stolen. Do NOT copy, repost, translate, or distribute my work on any other platform. Please respect my writing.

Want to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or message me! 💕

Requests: Open

Author’s Note: And so it begins! I wanted to set the stage for Joe and Riley’s story with an unforgettable (and hilariouslyuncomfortable) first meeting. Their chemistry is immediate but unexpected, and this talk show moment will definitely be something neither of them forgets. Buckle up—this is only the beginning! Let me know what you think! 😊💛

The air in the greenroom was stuffy, the leather couch sticking to Joe's palms as he shifted uncomfortably. A half-empty bottle of water sat on the glass table in front of him, condensation pooling around its base. He glanced at his phone—thirty minutes until showtime. Thirty minutes until he would be paraded out in front of a live studio audience like some kind of trained animal, expected to perform and charm and be witty.

He knew when he signed up to be a professional football player that there would be specific commitments he'd be uncomfortable with. At the top of that list? Talk show interviews. Yet, here he was, just weeks after his team's heartbreaking Super Bowl loss, sitting under the fluorescent lights of a Tonight Show greenroom, mentally preparing himself to face Jimmy Fallon and millions of viewers.

Joe ran a hand through his hair, carefully styled by the show's hair and makeup team despite his protests that he "looked fine." In his navy blue varsity-style sweater with white collar, dark blue pants, and silver Converse sneakers, he felt more comfortable than he would have in a suit and tie. He liked to keep things casual, understated—nothing that would draw unnecessary attention. His personal style was cool and effortlessly stylish, and thankfully his stylist had allowed him to wear his own clothes rather than forcing him into formal attire for this appearance.

"Ten minutes, Mr. Burrow," a production assistant called, poking her head through the door with a clipboard pressed to her chest. "Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?"

"I'm good," Joe said, forcing a polite smile. "Thanks."

As the door closed again, he exhaled heavily. Why had he agreed to this? It wasn't that he disliked Jimmy—by all accounts, the host was a decent guy. But there was something about these talk shows that made Joe feel exposed, vulnerable. Football was different. On the field, he was in control. He knew the plays, understood the game, could anticipate the defense's moves. But talk shows? They were unpredictable. And Joe Burrow didn't do unpredictable if he could help it.

His phone buzzed with a text from his mom: *Good luck tonight! We're all watching!*

Great. More pressure.

The same PA appeared again, this time with more urgency. "Mr. Burrow? We're ready for you."

Joe stood, straightening his sweater and taking one last deep breath. Game face on. Just like preparing to take the field, except the arena was a brightly lit stage, and the opponents were awkward questions and his own social anxiety.

As he followed the PA through the maze of corridors, the dull roar of the audience grew louder. The studio was packed, every seat filled, the energy palpable even from backstage. A makeup artist rushed over for a final touch-up, dabbing powder on his forehead with practiced efficiency.

"You're on after the monologue," the stage manager explained, positioning Joe just offstage. "When Jimmy introduces you, just walk out, wave to the audience, and take a seat on the couch."

Joe nodded, his throat suddenly dry. Simple enough.

The show's theme music blared, and Joe could see Jimmy bound onto the stage, his trademark enthusiasm drawing immediate cheers from the audience. As the host launched into his monologue, Joe tried to focus on his breathing, on the solid ground beneath his feet, on anything but the fact that in a few minutes, he'd be on national television.

The audience's laughter ebbed and flowed with Jimmy's jokes, a few about the Super Bowl making Joe wince internally. Still too soon.

"Our first guest tonight is one of the NFL's brightest stars," Jimmy was saying now, his voice cutting through Joe's thoughts. "Quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, please welcome Joe Burrow!"

The audience erupted, and Joe stepped onto the stage, the bright lights momentarily blinding him. He raised a hand in greeting, mustering a smile as he crossed to Jimmy, exchanged a brief handshake and half-hug, then settled onto the couch.

"Joe Burrow!" Jimmy exclaimed, as if they were old friends reuniting after years apart. "Man, it's great to have you here. How are you feeling after the Super Bowl? You guys played an incredible game."

And so it began—the usual questions about the season, about his teammates, about his plans for next year. Joe fell into the familiar rhythm of athlete interviews, giving just enough to seem engaged without revealing anything too personal. Always polite, occasionally funny, but careful. Measured. The Joe Burrow the public knew and the media expected.

Jimmy was mid-monologue when Joe realized this was going to be far worse than he thought. The host's expression shifted into something mischievous, a clear signal that the carefully structured interview was about to veer off course.

"So, Joe, we're going to play a little game tonight. I think you're going to love it. Or hate it. I don't know—you tell me after."

Joe's shoulders tensed, his fingers curling imperceptibly into the couch cushion beneath him. This wasn't part of the prep his publicist had gone over. "Uh... okay?" he managed, already feeling a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck.

"It's called Love Match. It's simple—I'll show you two people, and you pick who you'd rather hang out with. No pressure, totally harmless."

The audience tittered with anticipation, and Joe felt his pulse quicken. He hated these kinds of segments—the ones designed to create viral moments at the expense of guests' dignity. But there was no graceful way to refuse now, not with the cameras rolling and millions watching.

Joe wiped his palms on his jeans, the denim rough against his clammy hands. He was already regretting saying yes to this interview, already calculating how he'd face his teammates after whatever embarrassment was about to unfold. "Sure, let's do it," he muttered, earning knowing laughter from the audience who clearly recognized his discomfort.

Jimmy grinned and turned to the screen behind them, clearly enjoying himself. "Alright, first up—Bella Hadid or Riley Carter?"

Joe blinked, the name triggering an immediate reaction he couldn't control. Riley Carter. The name hit him like a freight train, derailing his carefully maintained composure. He knew her. Well, he didn't know her, but he knew *of* her. The lead singer of The Rambles, a band he'd been following since his college days. Her voice had been the soundtrack to some of his most significant moments—draft night, his first NFL win, even the quiet moments on the team bus when he needed to center himself.

It was more than just appreciating her music. There was something about her that had always caught his attention. The raw honesty in her lyrics, the way she carried herself in interviews, a confidence that seemed effortless and real. She was stunning too—blonde hair that fell in perfect waves, piercing blue eyes that always seemed to be looking right through you, a smile that could light up a room. It was a crush he'd been keeping to himself for a long time, not even sharing it with teammates during those late-night conversations when everyone else revealed their celebrity fantasies.

"Uh..." He shifted in his seat, stalling as his mind raced. He could lie, pick Bella Hadid like most guys probably would. The safe choice. The expected answer. But something made him hesitate. "Riley Carter," he finally said, the name feeling strange to say out loud in this context.

The audience cheered, and Jimmy's eyebrows shot up in exaggerated surprise. "Interesting! Alright, Riley Carter or Zendaya?"

Joe gave a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck as he realized he was now committed to this path. "Riley Carter."

"Oh, wow, she's on a roll!" Jimmy teased, clearly enjoying Joe's discomfort. "Alright, Riley or Kendall Jenner?"

Joe shook his head and smiled to himself, resigned to his fate. If he was going to be embarrassed on national TV, he might as well be honest. "Still Riley."

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, feigning shock as the audience's cheers grew louder. "Well, folks, I think we've found the most loyal man in Hollywood. Joe, it seems like Riley Carter's got your full attention!"

Joe tried to laugh it off, though he could feel the heat rising in his face, the telltale warmth that he knew meant he was turning crimson. "Yeah, I guess so," he managed, trying to seem casual despite the fact that his heart was pounding against his ribcage.

Jimmy glanced offstage with a sly grin that immediately set off alarm bells in Joe's head. That look—he'd seen it before on other talk shows. It was the look that preceded the ambush, the surprise that made for great TV but terrible personal experiences.

"Well, that's convenient because—surprise—I happen to know Riley personally. In fact, I invited her to the show tonight. Everyone, please welcome Riley Carter!"

The audience roared, a wall of sound that seemed to fade into the background as Joe's world narrowed to a single point. This couldn't be happening. His private admiration—not even admitted to his closest friends—was about to be thrust into the spotlight in the most mortifying way possible.

And then she was there, emerging from the wings, walking toward him with the easy grace he'd only seen in music videos and concert footage. Riley appeared from backstage, looking effortlessly stunning in a white silk crop top and high-waisted flared pants that accentuated her figure perfectly. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, framing a face that was even more beautiful in person than on screen. The studio lights caught the subtle highlights in her hair, the gleam of her simple gold earrings, and the soft pink of her lips.

Joe's stomach dropped, a physical sensation like missing a step on a staircase. Pure, unadulterated panic coursed through him as the distance between them closed. He shot to his feet, operating on autopilot, his mom's voice in his head reminding him to stand when a woman entered the room.

She approached with a smile that seemed genuinely warm rather than the practiced expression of a celebrity forced into an uncomfortable situation. Up close, Joe noticed details he'd never been able to see on screens—the light dusting of freckles across her nose, the striking blue of her eyes, the small scar near her left eyebrow.

"Hi, how are you?" she asked as she leaned in for a quick hug, her voice softer in person than he'd expected.

The scent of her perfume—something subtle and warm, like vanilla and bergamot—briefly surrounded him as they embraced. Joe's brain short-circuited, processing the surreal reality that Riley Carter—*the* Riley Carter—was hugging him on national television after he'd just admitted to basically having a crush on her.

"Good. Huge fan, by the way," Joe managed, his voice slightly shaky, aware of how utterly inadequate the words were. *Huge fan*? Could he sound any more like a cliché?

"Thanks," Riley said warmly, showing no sign that she found this situation as bizarre as he did. She took her seat on the couch beside him, close enough that he could see the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist, could smell that subtle perfume again.

Jimmy clapped his hands together, clearly thrilled with the success of his surprise. "Alright, Joe, Riley, this is already off to a great start. Riley, I hope you don't mind, but I've been telling Joe all about you."

Riley turned to Joe, her brow raised playfully, a hint of mischief in her striking blue eyes. "Oh, really? Should I be worried?"

Joe chuckled nervously, hyperaware of the cameras capturing every expression, every movement. "Probably."

Jimmy laughed, leaning forward in his chair. "Joe's been very consistent tonight, Riley. Picked you over everyone. Kendall Jenner? Nope. Zendaya? Nope. It was Riley Carter every time. You're basically his MVP."

Joe fought the urge to slide down into the couch and disappear. This was beyond embarrassing—it was excruciating. Having his private thoughts broadcast not just to an audience but to the very person those thoughts centered on made him want to evaporate on the spot.

But Riley seemed to take it all in stride, grinning as she looked over at Joe with what appeared to be genuine amusement rather than discomfort. "Well, loyalty is important, right?"

Her easy response gave Joe a lifeline, something to grasp onto in this sea of mortification. "That's what I was going for," he replied, a small smile finding its way to his lips despite the circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, he could survive this.

Jimmy leaned forward, his voice dropping as if sharing a secret, though of course his microphone ensured the entire studio audience—and millions of viewers—could hear every word. "You know, Riley, Joe told me earlier that this is his worst nightmare."

Joe groaned, running a hand down his face, wishing he'd never confided that particular fear to the host during their pre-show chat. "Jimmy, don't do this to me," he pleaded, but there was no stopping the train now.

Riley laughed, the sound light and musical, clearly enjoying his discomfort but not in a malicious way. "Oh, really? And why's that, Joe?"

He glanced at her, his cheeks tinged red, feeling like he was back in high school being called on in class when he hadn't done the reading. "Uh... because now I look like a total idiot?"

"You're doing fine," she said, her voice soft and reassuring in a way that suggested she understood exactly how uncomfortable he was.

Jimmy clapped his hands, clearly pleased with the chemistry unfolding before him. "See? She thinks you're doing fine. That's progress! Alright, we've got to take a quick commercial break, but don't go anywhere—we'll be back with more from Joe Burrow and Riley Carter!"

As the red light on the main camera switched off, signaling they were no longer live, Joe exhaled heavily, his shoulders slumping slightly with the temporary reprieve. The studio lights remained bright, the audience still watching expectantly, but at least they had a moment's pause from the national spotlight.

The camera crew moved into position for the commercial break, adjusting equipment and checking angles. Jimmy turned his attention to a producer who had approached with a clipboard, leaving Joe and Riley with a moment to themselves on the couch.

Riley leaned slightly toward Joe, her voice low enough that only he could hear. "So, this is your worst nightmare, huh?"

The proximity, the subtle scent of her perfume, the direct eye contact—it was overwhelming in the best possible way. Joe exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "You have no idea," he admitted, surprised by his own honesty.

She laughed softly, the sound more intimate now that it wasn't performative for an audience. "You know, I think it's sweet. I mean, you didn't know this was going to happen, right?"

Joe met her eyes, grateful for the understanding he found there. "Not at all. I thought I was just playing a dumb game for laughs. I didn't think you'd actually be here."

"Well, surprise," she said, smiling, a genuine warmth in her expression that made his chest tighten strangely. "It's not so bad, is it?"

Joe shrugged, a small grin tugging at his lips despite himself. "It could be worse. You could've said I was weird or something."

Riley tilted her head thoughtfully, her eyes studying his face in a way that made him feel simultaneously exposed and seen. "Weird? No. Nervous? Definitely. But it's kind of endearing."

The compliment caught him off guard, and Joe chuckled, running a hand through his carefully styled hair, probably ruining the makeup team's hard work. "Yeah, well, it's not every day you get ambushed by your celebrity crush on national TV."

The words escaped before he could filter them, his usual carefully maintained guard momentarily lowered by the surreal situation and Riley's disarming presence. As soon as he said it, he wished he could take it back, stuff the admission back into the private corner of his mind where it belonged.

Riley blinked, caught off guard by his honesty, before her lips curled into a slow smile that transformed her entire face. Something playful and pleased sparked in her blue eyes. "Celebrity crush, huh?"

Joe's face turned bright red, the heat spreading all the way to the tips of his ears. He looked away, focusing on a random spot on the stage floor. "I walked right into that one, didn't I?"

"Just a little," she teased, her voice laced with amusement but no judgment. "But don't worry—I'm flattered."

Before Joe could respond, Jimmy returned, clapping his hands together with renewed energy. "Alright, we're back, folks! Let's jump right back into it!"

The red light on the camera blinked on, and just like that, they were live again. Joe straightened slightly, trying to regain his composure as the interview continued.

The rest of the segment flowed more easily than Joe could have anticipated. The initial shock had worn off, and there was something about Riley's presence—the way she effortlessly filled silences, laughed at the right moments, and occasionally glanced at him with what seemed like genuine interest—that made the experience almost... enjoyable?

Riley talked about her new album and upcoming tour with her band, her passion evident in the way she leaned forward, hands animated as she described the creative process. Joe found himself watching her more than he should, captivated by the little details—the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking, the slight crinkle around her eyes when she smiled genuinely.

When the conversation turned to him, Joe surprised himself by opening up about his plans for the offseason, including a long-overdue vacation in the Bahamas with his family. Normally, he kept such details vague, offering just enough to satisfy the question without revealing anything too personal. But something about the night—maybe the fact that his carefully constructed wall had already been breached—made it easier to share.

Despite his earlier nerves, Joe found himself relaxing more as the conversation went on. Riley laughed at his jokes, even the bad ones, and they shared a few lingering glances that left him wondering if she might actually be into him too—a possibility so far-fetched he could barely allow himself to consider it.

By the time the segment ended, Joe felt almost disappointed. He'd survived what he thought would be a nightmare, only to find it had transformed into something unexpectedly pleasant.

Jimmy stood to thank them both, his expression satisfied—he'd gotten exactly the kind of segment producers dream about. "Alright, let's give it up for Joe Burrow and Riley Carter, everyone! Thanks for being such good sports tonight!"

"Thanks for having us," Riley said with a bright smile, the picture of graciousness.

Joe, finding a bit of his usual humor despite the circumstances, added, "Yeah, this was... something. But I think I survived."

Jimmy laughed, already angling for a follow-up story. "You did great, Joe. Just make sure I get invited to the wedding someday."

The audience roared with approval, and Joe shook his head, laughing despite himself. "Yeah, we'll see about that."

As the cameras stopped rolling and the show moved to its next segment, Riley turned to him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Joe braced himself for the letdown, for the polite but distant thank you and goodbye that would signal the end of this strange interaction.

Instead, she surprised him. "See you backstage?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of hopefulness that sent a rush of something warm through his chest.

Joe nodded, trying not to look too eager. "Yeah. Definitely."

As they both rose and made their way off the stage, Joe felt a strange mixture of emotions—lingering embarrassment from the ambush, adrenaline from the live performance, and something else. Something that felt dangerously like hope.

Joe was a private person; this was something he worked very hard to maintain. Despite his career, he tried to keep his life as normal as possible. He carefully separated Joe Burrow the quarterback from Joe Burrow the person. He limited his social media presence, declined most endorsement deals that would put him in the spotlight more than necessary, and cultivated a small, tight-knit circle of trusted friends.

So, as he left the stage after what was probably the most humiliating interview of his life, Joe was crossing his fingers that Riley wasn't just pretending not to be weirded out by the whole thing. If she was weirded out, he'd have to retire immediately, move to a remote island, and never show his face in public again.

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but he was certain of one thing: he would never agree to another talk show again. No matter how much his agent insisted it was "good for his brand."

The backstage area was a maze of corridors, production equipment, and busy staff members. Joe nodded politely to various crew members as he made his way through the hallways, his signature navy varsity sweater with white collar and blue pants making him easily recognizable despite his attempts to slip by unnoticed. He grabbed his duffel bag from where his assistant had left it backstage, slung it over his shoulder, and considered his next move.

The logical thing would be to head straight back to his hotel, call his agent to complain about the ambush, and try to forget the whole embarrassing episode. But the thought of leaving without talking to Riley again felt wrong somehow.

As Joe rounded a corner, he spotted a sign with Riley's name on a dressing room door at the end of the hallway. He paused, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Inside, he was a mess of nerves and uncertainty, but outwardly, he maintained the same cool composure he carried onto the field before big games. It was a skill he'd perfected years ago - never let them see you sweat.

Meanwhile, back on the stage, Riley turned to Jimmy with a playful but pointed glare as soon as the cameras were off.

"Alright, Jimmy, what the hell was that?" she asked, crossing her arms with a look that was half-amused, half-exasperated.

Jimmy laughed, throwing up his hands in mock defense, his expression utterly unrepentant. "Hey, don't blame me! I wasn't planning for things to go that well. I just thought it would be a fun little game—Joe's the one who went all-in on picking you every single time."

Riley shook her head, clearly flustered but unable to maintain real anger at the host's matchmaking attempt. "I mean, yeah, but still. You didn't warn me this was going to turn into a matchmaking ambush on live television."

Jimmy leaned in with a knowing grin, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Come on, admit it—you were into it. He was practically blushing the entire time! And don't think I didn't notice the way you kept sneaking glances at him."

The observation hit closer to home than Riley was comfortable acknowledging. She'd been genuinely charmed by Joe's obvious nervousness, by the unfiltered honesty that had slipped out when he admitted to his crush. It was refreshing—most men she met in the industry were all polished lines and practiced confidence. Joe's authenticity had caught her off guard in the best possible way.

"Jimmy," Riley groaned, wanting to end the conversation before the host could see too much in her reaction. "I am never coming on this show again."

"Oh, sure," he teased, clearly not believing her for a second. "Just make sure to thank me in your wedding toast."

Riley rolled her eyes, already heading for the door, but she couldn't quite suppress the smile that threatened to break through. "Goodbye, Jimmy."

"Goodbye, Riley! Love you!" Jimmy called after her with a laugh that followed her down the corridor.

As soon as Riley stepped into her dressing room, she was ambushed by her publicist, Jesse, who had been watching the segment on the monitor and was practically bouncing with excitement.

"Riley! Oh my God, that was amazing!" Jesse exclaimed, her dark curls bobbing as she gestured enthusiastically. "The way you two kept sneaking glances at each other? And the blushing? I mean, seriously, the entire audience was eating it up!"

Riley groaned, collapsing onto the plush couch as she covered her face with her hands, the cool metal of her rings pressing against her warm skin. "Please tell me it wasn't as bad as it felt."

"Bad? Are you kidding me? That was the stuff rom coms are made of," Jesse said, sitting on the armrest of the couch with a dramatic flourish, her tailored pantsuit crinkling slightly. "You were charming, he was adorable—it was perfect. Social media is already buzzing, by the way. 'Riley Carter and Joe Burrow' is trending."

Riley peeked out from behind her hands, narrowing her eyes at her publicist and longtime friend. "Seriously? That fast?"

"Uh, yeah." Jesse held up her phone, the screen illuminated with a flood of tweets and Instagram posts. "The second he turned bright red when you walked out, it was over for him. Everyone loves it. But forget Twitter for a second—did you see the way he looked at you? Riley, the man is smitten."

The thought sent a strange flutter through Riley's stomach, one she hadn't felt in a long time. She'd met plenty of attractive men over the years—fellow musicians, actors, models—but there was something about Joe Burrow's unassuming charm, the way he seemed almost reluctant to be in the spotlight despite his career, that intrigued her.

"Oh my God, Jesse, stop," Riley said, half-laughing, half-groaning as she pushed herself up from the couch.

Jesse smirked, smoothing her blazer as she stood. "Alright, fine. I'll stop. But only if you march down to his dressing room right now and give him your number."

Riley's eyes widened, a rush of unexpected nerves flooding her system. "What? No. That's not happening."

Despite her words, a part of her considered it. What was the harm? If nothing else, she'd have a funny story about the time she gave her number to Joe Burrow after Jimmy Fallon tried to set them up on national television.

"Okay, fine," Jesse said, crossing her arms with a determined expression that Riley recognized all too well. "Then he can come here. Either way, this is happening, because the energy between you two was insane, and if you don't do something about it, I will."

Riley opened her mouth to argue, to tell Jesse that she was being ridiculous, that whatever chemistry the audience thought they saw was just the product of an awkward situation handled with mutual grace. But before she could get the words out, there was a soft knock at the door.

The sound sliced through the room like a thunderclap despite its gentleness. Both women froze, staring at the door as if it might reveal its secrets without being opened.

Jesse's eyes lit up, and she gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Holy shit. What if it's him?"

"Stop," Riley hissed, suddenly feeling very aware of how fast her heart was beating. She sat frozen for a moment, her stomach doing somersaults, caught between hoping it was Joe and hoping it was literally anyone else.

"What are you waiting for? Go open it!" Jesse urged, waving her toward the door with frantic gestures.aving her toward the door with frantic gestures.

Taking a deep breath to calm her inexplicably racing heart, Riley stood, smoothed her hands down her pants, and crossed to the door. Her fingers hesitated on the handle for just a second before she pulled it open.

Standing in the hallway was Joe Burrow, his navy blue varsity-style sweater with white collar, dark blue pants, and white Converse sneakers making him look effortlessly cool. His stance exuded quiet confidence - one hand casually in his pocket, shoulders relaxed, posture perfect - the same easy self-assurance he displayed walking through stadium tunnels before games.

Inside, Joe's panic was at maximum level, his heart pounding against his ribs like it was trying to escape, thoughts racing through his mind at lightning speed. But none of this showed on his face. Outwardly, he maintained perfect composure, the same unflappable demeanor he'd perfected for high-pressure game situations. He leaned slightly against the doorframe with practiced nonchalance, his expression giving away nothing of the chaos inside.

"Hey," Joe said, his voice smooth and controlled, with just the right balance of confidence and warmth. "I, uh, just wanted to come by and say I'm really sorry about what happened out there. Jimmy kind of blindsided me."

Riley leaned against the doorframe, a small smile tugging at her lips. She was conscious of Jesse hovering just out of sight, no doubt drinking in every word of this interaction for future teasing material. "You don't have to apologize. Honestly, I thought it was kind of sweet."

Joe blinked, relief flickering across his face, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "You did?"

"Yeah," she said, her smile widening. "I mean, it was awkward, sure, but in a cute way. You handled it way better than I would've."

Joe laughed softly, glancing down at his shoes—expensive-looking leather loafers that somehow didn't seem like his style. "Well, I seriously considered running for the exit at one point."

Riley laughed, the sound genuine and unrestrained. "I believe that."

The moment felt lighter now, the initial awkwardness dissolving into something more comfortable. Joe looked back at her, a playful glint in his eye that she hadn't noticed during the interview. "So... I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that Jimmy was basically narrating my humiliation out there, but you seemed to handle it like a pro."

"Are you kidding? I was dying," Riley said, grinning. "You're the one who stayed cool the whole time."

Joe tilted his head, raising an eyebrow in a way that transformed his face, adding a mischievous quality to his otherwise clean-cut appearance. "Pretty sure sweating through my shirt doesn't count as staying cool."

Riley laughed again, shaking her head, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Fair enough. But still—it was fun. In a totally ridiculous way."

Joe rubbed the back of his neck, his smile softening into something more genuine, less performative. "Yeah, ridiculous sounds about right."

There was a beat of quiet between them, not awkward, but charged in the best way. The kind of silence that felt like its own conversation. Finally, Joe broke it, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"So, uh..." He hesitated, then let out a small laugh that betrayed his nervousness. "Man, I'm terrible at this."

"At what?" Riley asked, tilting her head, though she had a pretty good idea of what was coming next.

Joe took a breath, his gaze meeting hers directly, a determined set to his jaw like he was facing down a defensive line rather than asking a simple question. "I was wondering if maybe you'd want to grab dinner sometime. While you're in town, I mean."

Riley blinked, caught off guard but pleasantly surprised by his directness. She'd expected more hesitation, maybe even a non-committal suggestion to "keep in touch." "Dinner?"

"Yeah," Joe said quickly, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, his eyes searching her face for clues to her thoughts. "No pressure or anything. I just thought... if you're free, maybe we could—"

"I'd love that," Riley interrupted, her smile soft but genuine. The decision felt right, spontaneous in a way she'd been trying to embrace more lately.

Joe paused, clearly not expecting that answer, his eyes widening slightly. "Really?"

"Really," Riley said with a small laugh, amused by his surprise. Was it so hard to believe she'd want to have dinner with him?

Joe's face lit up, a smile spreading across his features that transformed him completely. Gone was the careful, controlled athlete from the interview; in his place was someone younger, more open, almost boyishly pleased. He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocking it before handing it to her. "Here, put your number in?"

Riley took the phone with a nod, quickly typing in her number before handing it back to him. Their fingers brushed in the exchange, a brief moment of contact that shouldn't have registered but somehow did.

"There you go," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

Joe stared at the screen for a moment, her name now sitting there in his contacts, as if he couldn't quite believe what had just happened. "Thanks. I, uh... I'll text you soon. For real."

"I'll hold you to that," Riley said with a smile that felt more genuine than most she'd given that day.

Joe hesitated for a moment, a brief internal debate playing out in his eyes, before he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. The gesture was sweet, unexpected, and over almost as soon as it began. "Goodnight, Riley."

The brief contact left a warm spot on her skin, and Riley found herself momentarily at a loss for words. "Goodnight, Joe," she managed, her voice warm despite her surprise.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Riley leaned back against it with a soft sigh, her lips curling into a smile she couldn't fight if she tried. Behind her, Jesse let out a gleeful squeal that Riley chose to ignore, too caught up in replaying the last few minutes in her head.

A talk show ambush, a mutual admission of attraction, and a dinner date—all in one night. Not at all how she'd expected her evening to go when she'd agreed to appear on The Tonight Show.

But as she touched her fingers lightly to the spot where Joe's lips had brushed her cheek, Riley found herself looking forward to what might come next.

[kisskisstine]

Once Upon a Time in Fairywood - Chapter 3

3 - Peri, fairy godparent! Unemployed

Go to Index | Chapter 2 <- Previous | Next -> Chapter 4 (coming soon)

Fanfic Summary: Once Upon a Time in Fairywood, FOPANW fanfic featuring the pop idol and actress Goldie Goldenglow and Peri (the unemployed), featuring Irep (super employed), as they run away from the Fairywood award festivities and explore the city altogether!

Chapter 3 Summary: Peri, just having lost Dev as a godkid, bums his parents home unemployed and regretful of his first time being a fairy godparent and failing terribly. His parents, Wanda & Cosmo gets him a surprise retreat to help him out of his rut!

--

The lazy afternoon sun in Fairy World creeped gently through the windows of the Cosma-Fairywinkle household’s starry-pink wallpaper, whimsical decor, and onto the sleepy eyes of Peri Cosma-Fairywinkle, lying on his parent’s couch wrapped in a knitted throw blanket that had stitchings of nickels sewn into it.

He just woke up from a nap dream… lots of flashing light… there was a blonde girl?  Butterflies? Whatever dreams are dreams.

He shrugged it off, picked up the TV remote and mindlessly flicked through TV channels with empty bowls of cereal sitting on the floor beneath him. His purple hair, usually pristine, was unkempt and ruffled wearing the same pajamas he slept in the night before. It’s been days since he lost his job as a fairy godparent to Dev Dimmadome, the spoiled rich, red-headed brat who upended Fairy World world just for his dad’s attention (and still didn’t get it)! Sure, the kid almost got him to explode from magical backup, but it wasn’t all Dev’s fault was it? He was a lonely kid after all. Peri granted his wishes, right? He did his job, didn’t he? That’s all he was supposed to do! Either way, it’s over, right? It’s over. Peri should be happy. But lying there flicking through Fairywood Awards commercials, there was something about it that just didn’t sit right with Peri. At first, he was glad to be rid of Dev. Riding off into the sunset with Hazel, Antony, Jasmine, Winn and his parents– free of that little brat! But as time went on, that small uncomfortable feeling turned into a rotten churning at his core, that no amount of cereal or random daytime TV show can cure. Ah, but maybe TV could cure me, he thought as he progressed to flicking through channels in pure apathy.

“Peri, son? Are you still on the couch?” Wanda, Peri’s pink-haired mother entered the house, carrying a couple bags of groceries of mostly sweets. She layed out the sweets on the coffee table in front of Peri. Her husband Cosmo, a green-haired man in a green bowling shirt and slacks, and her godkid Hazel, a young 10-year old girl in a striped pink and blue shirt followed closely behind her, her purple backpack on, having just returned home from school.

“Son! We got chocolates for you!” Cosmo exclaimed. “Well… your mother got them for you.”

“Yeah but we also got carrot sticks too!” Hazel exclaimed running up to Peri on the couch and offered him a carrot stick from a plastic pouch. He took it meekly and thanked her. Hazel sighed, sat on the couch with him, took the remote to put the volume down as more commercials about the Fairywood awards rolled, and rested her small hand on his shoulder. “Sorry Peri, I haven’t seen Dev since Fairy World. He hasn’t returned to school. I don’t know–”

“Haha! Dev?! Who cares about him? I obviously don’t, hahaha!” Peri exclaimed and continued to laugh frantically. “Look! I’m doing absolutely fine! I didn’t just screw up my first godkid by completely ignoring his real feelings and not addressing his clear need for parental love at all! Ahaha! I gave him all he wished for, right?! That’s what I was suppose to do, right? I did great! Ahahaha!” 

Peri continued to laugh nervously, as Wanda, Cosmo and Hazel were taken aback in shock.

“Sweetie pie,” Wanda interjected cautiously. “We love you and we know you did your best. Your father and I were thinking that maybe it’s best that you take a vacation from this all.”

“Wait– you’re not kicking me out are you?” Peri asked.

“I mean, technically we are but–,” Cosmo answered with a smile, putting all the empty bowls of cereal together, only to dropped them all as Peri shrieked in the idea of getting kicked out!

“Cosmo!,” Wanda interjected after her husband. “No no, we just think you had a real doozy of a godkid as your first time godparenting and you need some time to relax.”

“Yeah! And maybe get your mind off Dev for a bit and take care of yourself!”, Hazel stated nervously but with an assuring smile.

“I’m already relaxed! And I don’t think of Dev at all! Nope! Not one thought of it!” Peri exclaimed frantically again, as Hazel, Wanda, and Cosmo rolled their eyes at him, clearly judging him in his pajamas from the morning, surrounded by empty cereal bowls, and just having woken up from napping in front of the TV until the afternoon. A silence filled the air, until Peri couldn’t keep pretending anymore. “Fine… maybe you’re all right. I do need to get some air maybe…”

“It’s be great for you, son! Your mother and I already booked an amazing place for you!” Cosmo exclaimed pulling out his wand, poofed Peri into a full vacation outfit, Hawaiian button-up with rolled up sleeves under his usual suspenders and linen trousers, with boat shoes. The the cereal bowls clutter was also poofed away, giving room for Cosmo to dump Peri’s luggage in place. “It’s that island place we took you when we were on retirement when you were still our liiiiittle Poofy-Poofy!”  

“Wanda and Cosmo we’re telling me all about it! It’s all these floating islands in the sky and magical waterfalls and really cool famous fairies!,” Hazel exclaimed excitedly. “Ehehe! It’s so cool! You’ll relax there for sure!”

“Yes! The Fairywood Hotel Resort!” Wanda exclaimed, and then pulled Peri in closer to whisper to him directly. “Between you and me, the owner owes your grandfather and I BIG time. If you need any room upgrades, just mention you’re a Fairywinkle and–”

“Ok ok!” Peri gently pushed his mother at a reasonable talking distance. “Sheesh. I’ll go I’ll go! I really do appreciate all this, mom and dad… but NO, I am not using any of YOU or grandpa’s mafia stuff to bully staff for room upgrades!” speaking directly at his mother, Wanda.

“Hurtful.” Wanda teared up and comments under her breath. “But we’re good mafia… (;-; )”

“Wait… Wanda, what mafia?” Hazel questioned.

“Uhh… this might take some time to explain.” Wanda sweatdropped.

“Alright! See you when you’re feeling better son! We love you!” Cosmo interjected with his wand ready and before Peri can put in another word, he and his luggage are poofed out of the house.

--

Go to Index | Chapter 2 <- Previous | Next -> Chapter 4 (coming soon)

[sylusonychinus]

Episode Three: A Question Left Hanging

The clinking of silverware and the hum of conversation filled the reunion hall as the dinner progressed. Laughter echoed from different corners of the room, old classmates sharing stories of how they made it in the aviation world. But amidst the cheerful energy, Marissa had her sights set on something else.

Or rather, someone else.

"You know, Caleb," Marissa drawled, swirling the wine in her glass, "it’s so surprising that you’re sitting with [Reader]. I mean, of all people."

[Reader] sighed inwardly. Here we go.

Caleb arched a brow, his fork pausing midair. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Marissa smirked. "Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s just… people change, you know? Some for the better, some for the worse." Her eyes flickered toward [Reader], full of artificial concern. "I just don’t want you to waste your time on someone who doesn’t deserve you."

The table grew quiet. Eyes darted between them, some eager for drama, others visibly uncomfortable.

Liana Reyes, seated a few chairs away, leaned in with a practiced smile. "What Marissa means is," she said, her voice saccharine sweet, "you and I would make a much better match, Caleb. We come from the same background, the same standards. [Reader]… well, she’s just not in our league, is she?"

[Reader] clenched her jaw, fingers tightening around her napkin.

But before she could respond, Caleb set his glass down with an audible clink, his usually calm expression darkening.

"Marissa," he said, voice steady but cold, "shut up."

Marissa’s smug expression faltered. "W-What?"

"You heard me." He leaned back, arms crossing over his chest. "I don’t know where you got the idea that I need your opinion on who’s worth my time, but let me make something clear—I decide that. Not you. And definitely not Liana."

Liana scoffed, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "No need to be so defensive, Caleb. We’re just looking out for you."

"Yeah?" Caleb tilted his head. "Then maybe you should start by not treating people like garbage."

Marissa’s face turned red, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

[Reader] placed a hand on Caleb’s arm, a silent gesture to calm him down before she stood.

"Let me handle this," she murmured.

Caleb hesitated, then gave her a small nod.

Taking a deep breath, she turned to Marissa, her voice clear and unwavering. "You’ve spent years trying to make me feel small, haven’t you?" She tilted her head. "Why? Did it make you feel powerful? Like you were better than me?"

Marissa scoffed. "Oh, please—"

"You called me pathetic, made fun of my clothes, told people I’d never make it. But look at where we are now." She gestured to the grand hall around them. "I built my career with my own hands. What about you?"

Marissa stiffened.

[Reader] let a smirk cross her lips. "Oh, that’s right. You spend more time chasing after men with money than actually earning it yourself."

A few gasps rippled across the table, quiet murmurs breaking out. Marissa paled.

"Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather enjoy my evening with people who actually matter." [Reader] picked up her drink and sat back down beside Caleb, dismissing Marissa completely.

Humiliated, Marissa grabbed her purse and stormed out, Liana quickly following after her.

The tension slowly dissipated, and soon, the table erupted into casual conversations again, as if the whole ordeal had never happened.

Caleb let out a low chuckle, nudging [Reader] slightly. "That was satisfying to watch."

She smirked. "She had it coming."

—

After the reunion, Caleb and [Reader] stepped outside together, the night air crisp and cool. The city lights flickered below, painting the streets in a golden glow.

Caleb shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at her. "I still can’t believe I didn’t recognize you."

She laughed softly. "I wasn’t exactly the loudest person back then. Always kept to myself."

"Yeah, but we studied together, trained together. It’s crazy." He shook his head with a chuckle. "I must’ve been blind."

"Or just busy being the golden boy of the academy," she teased.

He groaned. "Please don’t call me that."

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment before Caleb slowed his steps.

"You know," he started, voice quieter, "our moms set up that blind date hoping something would happen between us."

She hummed, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah, I figured."

He turned to face her. "Did you ever consider it?"

That made her pause.

All these years, she had carried that quiet, unspoken crush—watching him from afar, wondering what it would be like if he ever noticed her.

And now, here he was, asking if she had ever thought about them.

She opened her mouth, ready to answer.

But then—

His phone rang.

Caleb pulled it out, checking the caller ID. His expression shifted, a flicker of frustration crossing his features.

"Another emergency flight," he muttered. He let out a sigh before meeting her gaze again. "I don’t need your answer now," he said, voice firm. "But when I come back…"

He took a step closer, just enough for her to catch the warmth in his eyes.

"I want to hear it."

And just like that, he was gone again—leaving [Reader] staring after him, her heart pounding.

For the first time in years, she had a chance.

And for the first time ever—Caleb was waiting for her.

Taglist: @jinwoosbabyboo @kithyyy @mcdepressed290 @nezuswritingdesk @elegantdeerlady @yuuuumii @duhgurl @lumieresdreams @bidisasterforevermore @i-messed-up-big-time

@that-one-scoundrel @justpassingdontworry @ansbobcar @nagireos

[pascalitobarnes]

pregnancy wish - javier peña

Summary: A cozy little adventure when going to the kitchen to devour an ice cream in the middle of the night and Javier being extremely patient.

Tw: None, just a couple being cute.

Word count: 3,074k

Author's notes: This is the first narrative I post in English, it's not my native language so please forgive me for any mistakes. I hope you like it.

Life in Laredo is peaceful but terribly hot all the time, being pregnant seems to have only increased my sensitivity to such conditions.

So today is another one of those early mornings when I feel uncomfortable and don't even want to think about when I have a big belly.

Javier, my husband, is in the third level of sleep, sleeping deeply, on his back, his torso bare, one arm resting on his belly while the other was above his head. Even sleeping he was exaggeratedly spacious.

I sit up in bed trying not to wake him, I stretch my arms lazily before standing up, it's two thirty in the morning but my mind only asks for one thing: ice cream with hazelnut cream.

I leave the room, walk down the short hallway, go down the stairs and go straight to the kitchen, crossing the living room, guided by the light coming from the windows, the night lights from the street and the moonlight.

I'm wearing an exaggeratedly short and low-cut outfit but it makes me very comfortable to sleep in.

I take the vanilla ice cream with cookie pieces from the fridge and then the hazelnut cream. I take a spoon from the drawer, all this with the night lighting that reflects the large kitchen window giving me a view.

I sit on the marble counter of the island, opening both containers and mixing the ice cream with the cream. The first spoonful that I take in my mouth practically makes me moan with satisfaction.

My mind is in pure pleasure, worried about nothing else but the sensations, my legs dangling absentmindedly in the air.

I don't know how long I stay there, until I see that the light in the space that connects the living room with the kitchen has been turned on and soon Javier's figure appears, entering the same place I am.

"What are you doing?" He asks me, I think he's still sleepy.

"Ice cream," I answer.

"Cariño, what did the doctor say about…" he begins to say as he approaches my body, standing between my legs, his strong arms surrounding me as they lean on the counter. He was interrupted because I ran the spoon full of ice cream over his cheek. I laugh at the expression of shock when I feel the cold temperature on his skin.

“Funny” he comments sarcastically.

To complement my action, I grab his hand before he can wipe his face with it and I lick where I shamelessly spread the ice cream.

“You ate almost all the ice cream,” he says when he notices the pot.

“It’s really good, I’m really hot, I couldn’t sleep,” I justify.

“Hot, is it?” He says provocatively.

I put the pot aside along with the spoon and now put my hands on the broad neck of the man in front of me. His hands are on my hips, I bring my face closer to his, the tip of my nose brushing against his. Our eyes fixed on each other.

“I love you,” I say practically in a whisper, as if it were a secret only ours.

“I love you too,” he says in the same tone.

With that, I press my lips against his in a loving kiss and Javier simply responds.

It doesn't take long for my lips to warm up, as does my tongue.

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"Paper Cuts." Intro—Daryl Dixon.

(Not my gif)

A/N: Hello everyone.

Once again, with great fear, I show you the intro of this little series, set before the apocalypse. This story is to show a little bit of how you and Daryl met before the end of the world, so I hope you like it! Thank you very much for giving it a chance. (I'm taking the liberty of tagging the people who commented on the post I made asking if you would like to read this story, and those who read "Like there was no tomorrow" but if you don't want to, don't hesitate to say so :)

Endless nights wondering why?

The emptiness in his uncomfortable mattress, always in the same position, counting the cracks in the ceiling. Insomnia, always alert, waiting still for the screams from the other side of the door and everything that brought, even if the perpetrators became ghosts a long time ago. Memories of his childhood desecrated, nightmares in his failed attempts to fall asleep, alone, until eventually boredom and tiredness forced him to close his eyes, only to then repeat the cycle in which he lived for many years. But not completely asleep, but always knowing the answer to: why I can’t? although never accepting the truth, living with it like a paper cut in his hand that burned.

All of that and more turned the boy into a young man who grew up unable to heal the wound, but that, at some point in his existence, found a way to live with it and without feeling any pain no more, because someone told him that, in the end, we’re all a little broken, and that's okay. At that moment his hand stopped hurting, and although it turned out rough after a lifetime of working with them, now the callousness of his fingers is invisible to you, nonexistent as Daryl continues to slide them over the small of your back, under your black t–shirt, up and down lazily because now, not sleeping is a choice.

Lying on his right side, his outstretched arm is the nest of your head and warm body while sleeping on your stomach, your hand in a loose fist against your face, a habit that makes him chuckle before he gently pushes it away, only to put his finger under your nose, just to check that you’re still breathing. Yeah, there you are, the responsible for the collision of his little world, fracturing the silence that Daryl Dixon had managed to achieve in his solitude. But he wouldn't change this for anything.

However, when the door of his old apartment opens and hits the wall with a thud, his natural protective instinct, the one that was born the first time he took care of his mother after witnessing her first blackout, makes his hand, a second after that resounding sound, leave your back only to press it against your ear to block out the loud giggles coming from the hallway.

As a reflex, your body moves in your sleep.

“Fuckin' asshole.” Daryl grunts in frustration, listening to the way his older brother silences whoever is accompanying him that night.

“Shh, shh, shh.” Merle laughs from the other side of the closed door on his way to his own room, intoxicated by alcohol and other things. “M' sure ma baby brother’s lil' angel is in there and we don’ wanna wake 'em up, darlin'...”

Although a short time later, the small apartment is filled with moans that travel through the thin walls.

“Goddamn it.” Tired, Daryl closes his eyes, wondering why the hell he hasn't been able to leave that shitty place.

Maybe it was the fear of starting, never something new because Daryl always lived tied to the past, to the pain and his scars, to the usual, to old habits, to his older brother who despite everything, is still his family. Although the ring hidden in his last drawer weighs with the opportunities he missed, that he let pass by for fear of rejection, for fear of his feelings overflowing when he had lived a life feeling little, or nothing at all. But then, there is a giggle on your part that forces him to open his eyes again, taking his hand away from your ear when Daryl sees you rubbing your closed eyelids before opening them, (with the fist you use to block your own breathing as he usually says to mock you) little by little to get used to the semi–darkness of the room and the partial light that enters through the only window.

“I think someone is filming a very dirty porno in your house.”

Daryl chuckles.

“M' sure the idiot paid her a lot of money to do that.”

You shrug, agreeing with him.

“Though I’ve never met such a religious person calling God that way.”

Surprised, Daryl lets out a laugh as he rubs his face, waking back up just as he was managing to fall asleep.

“Maybe we should jus' keep sleepin' at yer place.”

You nod softly, bringing your loose fist back up to your face.

“I think so. No offense, but your mattress is kinda hard.”

“Shit. Sorry, peach.” His hand finds its way back to your exposed skin, pushing himself close to your body. “M' gonna buy a new one. Now try to sleep 'cause I have to take yer pretty ass to work in the mornin'.”

You chuckle, closing your eyes, knowing well that now, easily, he too will go back to sleep.

You and Daryl had more in common than he ever thought you two would have, because he never met someone like you: a little broken but determined to live life to the fullest, as if you had never left little pieces of yourself behind. Maybe it was the memories of an interrupted childhood, the cigarettes shared on the edge of that lake of the woods where he usually takes you, the jokes you make with your sassy mouth, making fun of him like no one had ever done before, while showing him that laughing more than once a year was allowed, and that trips on his motorcycle were more fun in pairs.

But between meeting each other and breaking up, there was a life that was worth living even with those pains in our scars. Because now you know that the important thing about being alive is to live, even with those paper cuts on our skin that sometimes feel like bullet wounds, but those that, at some point in our lives, will no longer hurt at all.

@spookygothmommy @walkingtalkingsomething @m1nda0 @fluffy-dixon @stunkbiggu @kurogxrix @ffsjustletmesleep @kaz11283 @daryldixmedown @enretrogue

[homonocturnus]

When I saw the first episode I was so nervous - like, should I laugh? Should I stop watching? I didn't understand what it was doing, but I had my crush sitting silently next to me so I did the same.

We binged the whole season and it's our favourite show, watched the whole thing like five times.

It's very black comedy, pure satire. It's supposed to make you uncomfortable.

It's also comedy gold. The more you see it the easier it's to understand.

So, I watched the first episode of 'It's always sunny in philadelphia' and WHAT THE FUCK DID I WATCH?!?! The level of racism, the arseholery to each other and everyone in the room and (tw for manipulation and ideas of sa below)

And then they go and trick whoever the third guy at the bar is into believing he had sex with two different men whilst drunk.

Upon watching the end, maybe he did, and there is so much wrong with that as someone can't consent when drunk, ESPECIALLY if they are blackout drunk. What kind of friend would do that to someone? to purposely get a friend drunk so he can believe he's been assaulted, or even worse, to actually get assaulted.

And of course, being a man, it's a fucking joke as though assault is funny because it happened to a man.

What the fuck is wrong with these writers and this show?!

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

Okay 3 things

1. I was thinking about an aroace Sonic who says things that can be taken as wildly flirty/romantic but he just means them genuinely. “You have beautiful eyes, I keep getting distracted while looking at them,” not cause he’s interested romantically in them but because eyes can be really cool and pretty man I dunno what to tell you he likes looking at cool things and he thinks his friends are neat. “You’re the most beautiful person here,” because he really thinks that, he loves his friends

2. Sonic randomly dropping heartfelt genuine comments on his friends out of the blue completely blindsiding them and then moves on like nothing happened while they’re left going ?????? Bonus points if he does something immensely stupid or jerkish just before or immediately afterwards and they can’t tell if he was serious or not with the compliment (yes he was)

3. Sonic usually being so allergic to truly vulnerable moments that when he expresses something heartfelt randomly Tails thinks he’s been stabbed or something and does not believe him when he reassures him that he’s fine he’s fine he’s not dying yeesh

[puppppppppy]

mascot

[beef-brisket]

Adam leaned against the car: Don't be like that, man. It wasn't so bad! And uh... I'm not saying I'm unimpressed but the fuck you mean you can't fix an engine?

Lucifer growled and opened the hood: Look, I'm not a fucking miracle worker.

Adam: Guess not. Just a wife stealer, a trickster, a lair, the literal Devil- but no. We'll be crossing the line with "miracle worker" or, more specifically, mechanic~.

Lucifer slammed the lid shut and turned towards Adam, who seemed completely unphased by Lucifer's anger.

Lucifer: Adam, I swear to FUCKING-!

Voice: Hey! Is that the big boss?!

Adam laughed: Wait, people actually call you that?!

Lucifer groaned: Yes, they do- hello everyone!

The first man rolled his eyes as Lucifer smiled and waltzed over to the small crowed of sex demons.

Lucifer forgot how much he lived the attention he used to receive from the demons in Lust. It's been a long time since he got any type of praise like this.

Adam didn't mind watching from afar. He was chomping a snack from Bee before he narrowed his eyes. There was a tall demon that looked uncomfortably a lot like him. Even his fucking smile was the same.

Almost. He wasn't as handsome but you get the point.

Adam: The fuck...?

He growled when he saw the demon smile and say something that made Lucifer blush.

Adam: That mother fucker.

Destination Redemption!

@beef-brisket

Pride was one of if not the largest ring in all of Hell. So when the population of sinners started to really take a toll from the paused exterminations Lucifer had no choice but to open up the other rings to fan them out.

So for the time being until they got word back from heaven about how to handle all the sinners they were all over Hell's creation. Literally.

Charlie, wanting to redeem more sinners now that it's possible thought it would be a great idea to spread the word to the seven rings of Hell to help all of the sinners reach the pearly gates!

Lucifer: You want me to do that? But sweetie it's your hotel.

Charlie: Yes! Buuut, if you succeed in getting people to come here they'll want to meet the "big boss" of the hotel herself. Pretty good huh?

Lucifer snickered, okay that was cute.

Lucifer: Okay, I guess I can just zap-

Charlie: No! You gotta take your time dad. Do it right, use the Jeep! Please, for me?

She wants him to go on a literal road trip?

Lucifer: ..... Can I bring Adam?

Charlie: Sure! It'll be good to get him out of into the fresh air for a while!

Lucifer nodded, him and Adam have been working on their...... Friendship? Relationship? Situationship more like it but it is what it is.

He went and knocked on Adams door, the fallen angel answered.

Adam: Yeah?

Lucifer: I'm going on a road trip, wanna come with?

Adam thought for a moment: Sure, if it means I get out of here for a while.

Lucifer beamed: Great! Pack a bag and meet me in the lobby in one hour!

[hykwrld]

the day the neos stop making comments and “jokes” abt hyuck and his weight + skin colour is the day i will have peace

[avdaciter]

               If anything, Jinwoo deserved a good beating.   Hansa was being far too kind to him… and he wasn’t going to take it for granted. Talking about Inji had never been easy since her death. The werewolf could count on the fingers of his hands the amount of times he spoke to Leo about his mother, and it was probably because the wolf cub deserved to know how much of a great woman his mother was. He remembered the first time Leo asked about her–he also remembered how he couldn’t stop crying for the next couple of days.

Letting out a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair. Here she was, open to listen to him, ready to welcome him and his baggage and Linus was running away like a coward. Like he’d always been.

“It’s–hard.” He said, looking down at his feet, before forcing his gaze to find hers again. “Talking about her.” Hansa needed to know that none of this was on her. None of this had ever been her fault. He was the one who couldn’t even grieve properly and who was dragging this goodbye for the last four years, but Inji had been everything he’d ever known once. Everything he’s ever loved. How do you say goodbye to that? “It’s–been four years. Four years and I still can’t talk about her without feeling like my chest is going to get crushed with pain.” Surely, this wasn’t how Hansa had planned to spend her Lunar Year, but it wasn’t how Jinwoo had planned to spend his either. “I’m scared that if I start talking about her, then I’ll start crying and then I’ll never stop.” He confessed, trying to find sense in his own, confusing thoughts. It was uncomfortable thinking about the fact that his love died because of him. 

Jinwoo could sense the hesitation, the fear hovering in the air and for the first time, he understood that during all of those months he’d been picking up on fear emanating from the gorgon, it might not have been directed at him. Clearing his throat, Jinwoo took a step closer to her. Things had been so good just moments ago, why did he have to let his past come forth and ruin everything? “Hansa, listen…” Another step closer and the older werewolf reached up to touch her face again—not without a split second of hesitation, as if asking for permission to touch her again before doing so. “I… I’m sorry.” He ducked his head while cupping her face with both hands, his gaze searching for any sign in her eyes that she would ever forgive him.

Apologies, Linus had learned, were good for nothing. Once you broke someone’s trust, you could still apologize, but things would never be the same. Hopefully, he would make a bigger effort to ensure he didn’t keep screwing things up around Hansa. “Honestly, I–I don’t know.” He started, choosing to be honest with her. Whether it was something she wanted to hear or not, at least he knew he was being honest. “Some days are easier than others." Pause. Honesty fucking hurt, man. "Some days, it’s hard to leave the bed without feeling like my chest is being crushed.” Because of how much he missed Inji. “So, I don’t know if I’m ready." And then, he was reminded of how he felt when he saw her smiling about the apron. Or when Leo would laugh in her presence. He remembered how her nose would wrinkle at his commands in the kitchen. "But–when I’m with you, it’s different.” He continued, fingers brushing against her cheeks, tracing gentle lines on her face, before his thumb brushed along her bottom lip. “When I’m with you it’s… easier to breathe.” Pause. His gaze lowered to her lips, too. “It has been for a while.”

Jinwoo moved closer, now fully stepping into her personal space. One of his hands remained caressing her bottom lip, while the other gently brushed the remains of tears away from her face. “I don’t want to make you cry, Hansa.” His voice was as soft as a whisper and he leaned in to press a gentle kiss between her eyes. “But I can’t answer your question.” Pulling away for a bit, he continued looking into her eyes. “I don’t know if it’s too soon for me.” Linus then, took one of her hand, moving it to rest on his shoulder. “But I do know how I feel when I’m with you." Again, he leaned in, resting his forehead against hers. "I can’t tell you some days won’t be hard for me. I can’t tell you it’ll be easy to talk about her… but… I want to try. With you.” The tips of his nose brushed against hers, lips dangerously close to hers once more without touching.

her smile grows. linus was defending his words again, not easily picking up on the gorgon's pokes and teasing. it just makes her laugh a little more, turning her head to search for him. ❝ don't worry, i need it simplified. i'm not exactly a natural. ❞ she hoped her words would ease him. she hoped, eventually, he'd see that she couldn't resist a little teasing. it was easy to hide emotions behind a wall of sarcasm and jokes, but maybe she'd gotten a little used to it.

while he started to cut everything, hansa let's herself sit, despite wanting to return his gestures with ones of her own. but being touchy while he's holding a knife seems like a bad idea. instead, she just watches, listens, talks from where she sits, just enjoying being there.

everything perks when linus speaks again, bringing up leo's mother. a subject hansa hasn't touched because it seemed far too personal. but the little snippet she was getting was something. even if it did make linus look incredibly uncomfortable. ❝ my mom is the more traditional one also, ❞ she says with a gentle smile, trying to find some commonality. trying to tell him it was okay. but she's not so great with words either. many words never really needed to exist between the two before so she rises with the intention of reaching out, letting him know she was there in some way. did he ever talk about her? did he ever let anything out besides on full moon nights? hansa didn't think so. but she never gets the chance to try and soothe whatever emotions plague the wolf. he excuses himself after their growing silence and then leaves.

hansa, too, wants to leave. she wishes she could be so careless, but it's not linus that makes her stay. he could make up an excuse to leo, tell him hansa got sick or something and that's why she had to go. but she wouldn't want that. instead, she stands there for a moment, that feeling of safety being dragged out along with linus. now her mind was back to second guessing, to wanting to protect itself. fight or flight. running had always been her personal choice. tears sting the gorgon's eyes, but she fights them back, scolding herself for letting them appear in the first place. she goes to the bathroom, fixing her loose bun into a tighter one and uses her phone to make sure there's no redness in her eyes, no hints. and after making sure her emotions were back where they belonged, hidden deep underneath her surface, she could go back out to the kitchen and wait.

her eyes are wide when finally met with his again, but hansa mentally kicks herself and they narrow. she forces the emotion to leave them, reinforcing that wall she was trying to put back up. even when she lays eyes on the vinyl, something that's usually a sure way to bring excitement out of her, doesn't react, only listens.

everything linus said just made her feel more confused. he was still mourning ... but wanted this? whatever the hell this was. and he was rusty? that didn't really feel true. probably the most confusing part of all because nothing felt ... rusty. it felt shiny and sparkly. they were sparkly. at least until they were suddenly dulled. all of hansa's words seemed to leave her, unsure what to say. her head, of course, told her to protect herself, keep up with the aloofness now. but her stupid heart hadn't changed. it wasn't like she would fall out of love with him instantaneously. and somehow it was louder than her head. it was so loud.

she takes the vinyl but doesn't open it, instead just sets it aside after a quiet thanks. ❝ you could have told me that, ❞ she finally finds her voice after another moment of quiet between the two. ❝ you can tell me anything. about her. about you two. about what happened. ❞ if she didn't ache, she'd reach for him. she'd take his hands to make him feel tethered to something, to let him know she was there. but they're preoccupied, not so much crossed over her chest as they are slightly hugging herself, protectively. ❝ but just don't ... please don't ever just walk away from me like that. ❞

she's not sure when she gave her face permission to express emotion, but she feels two little tears slip out the corner of her eyes and she groans in frustration, quickly removing them from her face and turning slightly, an attempt to hide. and then a thought pops into her mind. one she's scared to voice because his response, but one necessary for her own peace of mind. ❝ and if it's too soon for you, tell me now. ❞ she didn't want to be stand in in someone else's life, like she was feeling in that moment.

[rainsweptflower136]

Day 5 of Gortash Week Ruler

This is also the first thing that came to mind with contemplating death cult office politics comment

[copia]

regarding the leather cassock: https://www.thespillwayslounge.com/collections/reliquary/products/leather-cassock

HELPPP WHGHGSATSJNBSMVDJCYUGKHS? mate i was expecting an article with a brief description of a vague leather outfit design that was never made only to get hit with

just when i thought nothing from ghost could surprise me ...speechless

[eatingsomegreeneggos]

Looking at Sunny Starscout screenshots on Pinterest and crying because she's literally so perfect 🥺💗 The cutest little horse to have ever horsed, one might even call her a little pony... (altough you'll find she's actually of average height). But yeah Sunny is like actually my favorite pony period. I will stand by this I love G4 as much as the next guy but Sunny is so precious to me! I wish they'd use her character more like come on I want to see her more in mym 😭 (I love her quite a lot in tyt though) But yeah she's so great she's really interesting to me and cute and funny and I would love to be friends with her 💕💕💕