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bytemee · 1 day ago

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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."

328 notes · View notes

burreauxsss · 10 hours ago

Text

birthdeys

background: its y/n's birthday and joe being the supportive man he is, goes over and beyond for her because she deserves it. not without y/n clocking people.

(all pics from pinterest)

notes: its almost my zodiac season!!! anyways... got a huge shoutout from this one insane tea page and my page views are up (im being sarcastic shh)

warning: not proofread.. i just made sure theres no major mistakes so any tiny mistakes please forgive me.

joe burrow x black reader smau

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: someone loves copying me...

yourbsf

❤️ 78,103 💬 19,300

Liked by: y/n_handle joeyb_9 and others

yourbsf: happy happy birthday to one of my best friends since LSU y/n_handle. i hope you have a wonderful day, live it up. 💗

y/n_handle: its too early for me to cry omg.

joeyb_9: shes crying as we speak

username_1: this post is making me jealous fr

username_2: shes so prettyy!!

username_3: now why is joe in these comments.. username_4: thats y/ns man lmaoo 😭

username_5: hbd!!!

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 719,800 💬 2

Liked by: y/n_handle bengals yourbsf lahjay_10 and others

joeyb_9: happy birthday to my missing rib and the love of my life. i love you so much, so glad we met at LSU, cheers to more years together.

y/n_handle: i love you too 🤍

bengals: happy birthday ms shiesty!!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: season 28.

yourbsf posted a story

caption: with y/n_handle

y/n_handle

❤️ 104,387 💬 20,473

Liked by: yourbsf joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: been that bitch still that bitch.

username_6: i love that cake.

username_7: that age gap though? username_8: theres no age gap, they're both 28 now.

username_9: their kids would be so cute.

username_10: ive loved her since LSU because of how funny she is.

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 679,801 💬 76,200

Liked by: y/n_handle lahjay_10 and others

joeyb_9: took 28 years of blood pumping through me to get to this evening with you.

lahjay_10: ima need yall to take away joe's social media... y/n_handle: stfu.

joeyb_9: you act like this is regular.. its not.

username_11: this isnt my qb that i know..

username_12: what happened to mr shiesty bro.. y/n_handle: hes still here..

username_13: joe. if you need someone just for fun im here. y/n_handle: your in his dms, im in his bed. now what was that?

username_14: i fear she ate lmfao..

username_15: she did nottt... burrow come get your girl!!!

*load more comments*

y/n_handle posted a story

caption: thank you for my dream joeyb_9

y/n_handle

❤️ 100,000 💬 14,102

Liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: he wished there were two of me.

joeyb_9: so hot mamas. y/n_handle: thank you.

username_16: least attractive nfl wag y/n_handle: classic chiefs fans. frauds on and off the field.

username_17: yall chiefs fans need to be quiet fr.

brittanymahomes: red looks good on you, too bad the bengals orange are mid. y/n_handle: i cant say the same about red looking good on you. still i dont like you though, lets not get it twisted.

username_18: im so sick from witnessing this love!!

username_19: brittany had it coming for her...

*load more comments*

joeyb_9

❤️ 954,000 💬 73,199

Liked by: y/n_handle and others

joeyb_9: pro bowl '25

y/n_handle: this picture is making me go insane.

lahjay_10: someone take away y/n's social media asap.

username_23: i need him in ways that would set feminism back 100 years. y/n_handle: me too.. me too.

joeyb_9: what does this mean.. y/n_handle: come and find out?

username_24: ms shiesty getting hella comfortable in these comments..

*load more comments*

*time skip of a year*

y/n_handle

❤️ 1m 💬 1

Liked by: joeyb_9 and others

y/n_handle: life completed. welcome to the world my birthday twin, eliza marie burrow 🤍

joeyb_9: our family 🧡

*load more comments*

joeyb_9 posted a story

caption: going home. 🧡

note: had to give it a good ish ending. hope yall enjoy.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x black reader #burreauxss #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow smau

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cameronsprincess · 4 hours ago

Note

Do you think you could do somwething with season 4 rafe x pogue reader. Using I need to hear you not just feel you

raaaaah yeah yeah! season 4 rafey with a pogue!reader is😣😍 alsooo “i need to hear you not just feel you” is so yummy.

CW: smut! 18+ only! drinking, reader and rafe’s first time hanging out, fem receiving oral, strong language ig?

note: yeah i used sofia in this, but simply bc she has on the island club outfit and reader is a bartender at the island club!

masterlists.

rafe cameron.

that name sent most people running the other direction on this island— especially people like you… a pogue. but rafe didn’t scare you away, no, instead he intrigued you.

people had always been slightly scared of rafe, the man had a reputation for sure, and he lived up to that reputation. it wasn’t until his dad had died though that he’d really become a force to reckon with. rafe was careless in the way he handled things, he had the entire police force in his pocket, could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted.

so why were you so interested in a man who could do you more harm than good? the answer wasn’t simple. you’d honestly loved the darkness that surrounded him, but you’d never speak that out loud, so instead you settled on the fact that he was just damn good to look at.

tall, broad shoulders, big arms, nice hands. tanned skin that paired beautifully with his ocean-blue eyes. he’d buzzed his hair in the last year, it suited him. any time you saw him, your mind buzzed with thoughts of running your hands over his buzzed head, sinking your blunt nails into his tanned and toned shoulders, roaming your hands over every inch of perfectly chiseled skin on his body. the thought of his perfectly plump and pink lips on yours sent an electrifying bout of pleasure rushing straight to your clit.

you were leaned up against the bar at the island club, your mind swirling in on all the dirty thoughts you’d had about rafe cameron as you stared at him from across the room. the man was a walking fucking heart throb, tanned skin, tight white polo— the sleeves squeezing at his biceps snugly — light khakis and designer shoes. his large, veiny hand gripped a whiskey glass, the rim of it pressed against his bottom lip.

as if he could feel your intense stare, he looked over at you. deep, bottomless pools of blue staring right back at you. your heart dropped into your throat, a shiver coasting down your spine as you held his stare. he smiled, winked and then returned to his conversation.

“hey, we need more bud lights from the back, you just gonna eye fuck rafe all night or can you go get it?” your co-worker, estelle, snipped.

you turned your attention on her, giving a small fake smile. she could be a bitch, but she’d meant well.

“yeah, sure thing i’ll go grab it. how many cases?”

she rolled her eyes, loudly smacking her gum before smiling. “two.”

you let out a slow breath, sliding past her and through the dining area. once you reached the double push doors that lead into the kitchen, your hand reaches out to step inside but a warm, rough grip landing on your wrist stops you in your tracks.

“didn’t anyone teach you it isn’t polite to stare?” rafe’s deep, smooth voice said, the sound traveling straight between your legs.

your eyes flit down to where he’s grasping your wrist, butterflies and warmth filling your tummy at the feel of his skin against yours. his touch burned your skin, warming you from the inside out. you stared at him for a short moment, a small smile tilting his lips at your lack of response.

“can you not speak?” he says lowly.

you startle from your trance, forcing your eyes on his. blue. so fucking blue you felt as if you’d drown if you stared too long.

you finally shook your wrist from his grasp, pushing open the kitchen doors, stopping halfway inside before you said, “i’m sorry… i- i don’t really have a reason for staring i just.. my apologies mr. cameron.”

sucking in a deep breath you disappear into the kitchen, rounding a corner and pulling open the walk-in coolers door. you step inside, shaking off the nerves and tension that ran through you. looking down at your wrist you swore you could still feel him, touching you, gripping your wrist so tightly you thought he wanted to burn his fingerprints into your skin.

the cold air of the large cooler did nothing to tame the fire burning throughout your entire body. you’d lived on this island your entire life, grown up here, you’d known who rafe was since you were old enough to grasp people’s names. but he’d never acknowledged your existence, not until today.

you slowly breathe in through your nose, slowly pushing it back out through your mouth. it was fine. you were fine. he’s just another man.

after collecting yourself you’d decided you’d been back here long enough, estelle was going to rip you a new one for taking so long to grab two cases of bud light, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. gripping the two cases of beer, you pushed the cooler door open with your shoulder, made your way through the kitchen and back into the dining area. with your head down, firm grip on the cases of beer, you walked straight to the bar.

a scoff sounds behind you, making you roll your eyes to yourself.

“if i would’ve known it’d take you nearly twenty minutes to grab two cases of beer, i would’ve just done it myself.” estelle snips, jerking the two cases from your hands and making her way to the other end of the bar.

you let out a defeated sigh, bracing your hands on the bar and letting your head hang. there was only three hours left in your shift. you’d be fine, you could do this.

but when you lifted your head, looking back in the direction of where rafe stood, your heart nearly stopped in your chest when you found he was already looking right at you.

—

“thank you mr. jennings, i’ll be sure to bring you some apple pie next time i make it,” you smile at the older gentleman as he finishes his drink, setting the glass down and wishing you a good night. “good night, sir. get home safely.”

once the older man disappears out the front doors you let out a long sigh. you were exhausted. he was the last guest in for the night, and you were ready to close the bar down and go home.

your boss locks the doors, nothing but the sounds of kitchen workers moving about to close the kitchen and a faint beat of the music playing through the club’s speakers filled the air.

you make quick work of wiping everything down, organizing the liquor bottles— most expensive up top, mid priced in the middle and cheap liquor down low — and setting the last bit of glasses into the bars dishwasher. once you finish, you wipe your hands on a worn white sani-rag, printing out your end of the night report and grab your stuff before heading into the back to collect your money for the night.

it doesn’t take long to get settled with josh, exiting his office and clocking out before you’re stepping out into the back parking lot. the humid, salty air hits your skin and you suck in a welcome breath, not realizing you’d been desperate for fresh air until now.

“can we talk about that staring problem of yours now?”

your body tenses at the low, raspy voice. you slowly turn toward the parking spaces, finding rafe cameron leaned against his truck, arms crossed over his chest.

“i.. why are you back here? members park out front, you know?”

rafe laughs, pushing off his truck and tucking his hands in his pockets. “yeah, well, i knew you’d be back here.”

your heart skips a beat, the humid air feeling thicker all of a sudden, making it hard to breathe. you pull your hair out of the messy bun you’d put it in while closing the bar, letting your unruly strands fall down your back. rafe’s eyes tracked the movements, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“still can’t speak? it’s not polite to ignore. we really need to work on your manners. staring, not responding when spoken to…”

he slowly begins walking toward you, your heart pounding wildly in your chest with every step he took. it isn’t until he’s standing directly in front of you that you snap out of the trance you’d been in, taking one slow step back.

rafe smirks, a small and subtle smirk but it’s there nonetheless.

“are you scared of me?” he says lowly, taking one step forward, closing the distance again.

“no.” you breathed out, swallowing thickly and staring up into his eyes.

he reaches out a hand, running his ringed fingers down your cheek. you shudder, your eyes fluttering shut. rafe’s hand drops back down to his side, “you going home for the night?”

you blink rapidly, trying to clear the lust filled fog that’s clouded your mind. “y-yeah. i’m going home.”

he chuckles. “come to my house, we can hang out.”

what? did rafe cameron just invite you to come hang out at tannyhill? the part of you that was infatuated with him was jumping for joy, you’d always wondered what it’d be like to hang out with rafe cameron. but the logical part of you was questioning why he wanted to hang out with you.

“w-why?” you asked hesitantly.

rafe’s fingers grab at a piece of your hair, twirling it around in his fingers before dropping it. “could be fun. come on, don’t tell me you’re scared of fun?”

your breath hitches in your throat. you’re not sure why he’s being so persistent, but you don’t want him to think you’re just like everyone else on this island, terrified of him. with a bright smile, you reply, “of course not. let’s go, could be fun, right?”

rafe grins, the sides of his eyes crinkling from how big his smile was. “right. let’s go.”

he grabs your hand, pulling you the few steps back toward his truck and opening the passenger door for you. once you’re inside and buckled, he closes it, and you take the few seconds it takes him to round the truck and get in to soak in your surroundings.

it smells like him. expensive cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke. the smell is oddly intoxicating. you breathe in deeply through your nose, letting it out slowly as your eyes take in the expensive leather interior, running your finger across the dash. not a speck of dust in sight, not surprising for a man like rafe cameron.

rafe climbs into his truck, his fingers tightly wrapped around the steering wheel as he stares over at you. you force yourself to meet his gaze, chuckling nervously. “what?”

he breathes out a laugh, shaking his head and running his hands down the sides of the steering wheel, placing his key in the ignition and bringing the trucks engine to life. “nothing.”

the drive to tannyhill isn’t long, maybe ten minutes tops, but the silence that filled the air between the two of you was so thick, filled with something you couldn’t quite discern. rafe stops outside the tall, metal gates, rolling his window down and typing a code into the small security code box. the gates roll open slowly, and rafe pulls up the long driveway, stopping his truck at the front door.

he kills the engine, casting you a quick glance before he’s opening his door. “you coming?” he asks.

you swallow around the nerves you’re feeling, nodding your head and opening your own door. you follow rafe silently up the steps to the front porch, stopping behind him while he makes quick work of unlocking and opening the door.

he steps inside, tossing his keys onto a table beside the door before walking toward the kitchen, leaving you to shut the door and stand awkwardly in the entryway. he pops his head around a corner seconds later, “you gonna stand there all night, or do you want a drink?”

oh. well, you should’ve known he wanted you to follow him, that was your mistake. you were just so nervous, you couldn’t think straight.

you made your way into the kitchen, finding rafe standing at the large marble island that sat in the middle of the spacious room. he smiles when his eyes find yours. “stop being so nervous, ahhh.. sorry, what was your name again?”

you smile, telling him your name before shifting the conversation to his house. “this place is nice, did you get it when your dad-” you stopped yourself, noticing the tension in his shoulders before he quickly shook it off, turning to grab two glasses out of the cupboard. he places them gently on the island, grabbing an expensive bottle of whiskey from another cupboard and pouring one of the glasses full. “whiskey?” he asks, his eyebrows rose as he watched you.

“no thank you, i’ll just have water.”

he laughs at that. “if you insist.”

he opens the fridge, pouring water into your cup from one of those fancy filtered water pitchers before placing it back in its spot and handing you the glass. he grabs his own glass, bringing it to his lips and studying your features.

he lets out a breath, sipping from his glass before setting it down and leaning back against the counter. “so, how long have you lived here, sweetheart?”

you choke on your sip of water, the pet name catching you completely off guard. you lift your head to find an amused rafe staring back at you, the corners of his lips slightly lifted in a smirk. “shit, sorry,” you apologize.

he laughs, a deep, true laugh before pushing off the counter and grabbing you some paper towels. he lets you wipe your face before he’s cleaning off the counter top and tossing the paper towels into the trash. he makes his way back toward you, his eyes dragging slowly from your feet all the way up to the top of your head. he bites at his bottom lip, “you never answered me, how long have you lived on kildare?”

you crane your neck to look up into his eyes. “my whole life.. so twenty-three years.”

he reaches out to push some hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “so you’re only two years younger than me.. and you work at the club, so you’re not from figure eight… pogue i’m assuming?”

you swallow around the knot in your throat, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod. you can’t help the gasp that escapes you when rafe reaches out and pulls your bottom lip from between your teeth, his thumb pressing firmly against it before he’s pulling away.

“you’re very pretty, it’s a shame i didn’t know you existed until now.”

his words stung more than they should’ve. you knew he didn’t know you existed, it was painfully obvious in the way he never recognized your pining for him since you were old enough to understand what it meant to have feelings for a boy. he was kook prince. high up on the food chain. and you were just… you. but hearing him say it out loud was like a slap to the face.

rafe’s warm hand cupping your cheek snaps you out of your pity party, his words caressing you. “stop thinking so much. i was a piece of shit back then, you know it. i know it. this entire goddamn island knows it.”

you knit your brows in confusion. “you’re not a piece of shit, rafe. you went through a lot.”

he gives a dry laugh. “that’s the understatement of the century.”

he turns to grab his glass, downing it in one go before he’s facing you again. your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and the air is so thick with sexual tension you could cut it with a knife. rafe’s eyes flit from yours and down to your lips, his thoughts written all over his face. he wanted to kiss you.

you swipe your tongue across your bottom lip, watching as rafe tracks the movement with his eyes. he groans, the sound deep and causing your panties to grow wet with arousal. when rafe’s eyes meet yours again they’re dark with lust, the tension in the room now suffocating you.

“rafe.. what do you-”

your words die on your tongue when rafe grips the back of your neck harshly, pulling your face into his and smashing his lips with yours. your hands grip at his arms, fingernails digging into his skin, leaving behind crescent shaped moons in his smooth skin. rafe groans into your mouth, his hands running down your sides and gripping your thighs. his rough palms squeeze at your bare thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the counter.

you moan when rafe’s lips trail from your lips to your neck, working down to your jaw and chest. his teeth nip at your jawline, pulling a small whimper from you. he soothes where he’d bitten with his tongue, the wet and warm muscle against your skin causing goosebumps to sprout on your arms.

“take this off.” rafe groans, his fingers tugging at your island club polo that’s tucked into your baby blue skirt.

you quickly comply, pulling the polo out from where its tucked into your skirt and over your head. your eyes land on rafe’s both of your chests heaving with heavy breaths as you sit shirtless in front of the man you’d only ever dreamed about.

rafe’s fingers brush up the length of your bare stomach, stopping once they reach the under wire of your bra. he flattens his hand, running it up and over the fabric of your lace bra, cupping one of your tits in his hand and squeezing at it softly. your hands fly behind you, palms flat against the countertop while you throw your head back. rafe switches to the other breast, giving it equal attention, pinching a nipple between his fingers and pulling before releasing.

the loss of rafe’s touch has your head lifting, finding him standing in front of you, breathless and unsure of what to do next. you reach your hand out, tugging at his white polo, silently begging him to take it off.

rafe pulls off the shirt, tossing it to the floor with yours before his eyes are on you again. “you sure about this? we don’t even know each other… we don’t have-”

you shush him, running your hands up his toned stomach before wrapping your arms around his neck. you pull him forward, placing a soft kiss against his lips. “shhh.. don’t ruin it, rafe. don’t think about it. just do it. whatever you want.”

rafe’s eyes darken at your words. you’d just told him he could do whatever he wanted with you. he kisses you again, soft and slow while his fingers made quick work unclasping your bra, letting it fall in your lap. next he’s working your skirt off you, breaking his lips from yours to take in the lacey white thong you wore. he smirked when he saw the small wet patch in your panties.

“someone’s needy.” he jokes, pushing his fingers into the waistband and sliding the panties down your thighs. you lift your ass off the counter to help him remove your thong, watching him intently as he tosses it to the floor.

your lips slightly part, opening them to speak but a squeal comes out in their place when rafe grips your thighs and pulls your ass toward the edge of the counter. “lay back f’me, spread your legs.”

you do as he says, laying back against the counter, your feet flat on the edge as you spread your legs wide for him. a low growl rumbles out of rafe when his eyes land on your swollen, dripping pussy.

“god you’re so wet,” he rasps, dropping into a squatted position, his face pressing between your legs and inhaling your scent. “smell so fuckin’ sweet… bet you taste sweet too.”

a moan escapes you when rafe’s lips begin kissing at your inner thighs, working their way toward your clit. he softly kisses your sensitive bundle of nerves, your hips bucking up. rafe chuckles, placing one hand on your hip and pushing you back down while his other hand had a firm grip on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him.

he licks a hot stripe through your slick folds up to your clit, giving it a slight flick of his tongue. your head rolls to the side on the counter, hands flying to his buzzed head. you run your hands over his head, relishing in the feel of his buzzcut beneath your palms, moans and whimpers escaping you as rafe works your pussy with his mouth and tongue. he sucks your clit into his mouth, releasing your thigh and pressing his middle finger inside you.

he mumbles something unintelligible against your pussy, the vibrations making your inner walls flutter around his finger. rafe slowly works his finger in and out of you, slipping another inside when your thighs tense against the counter. he sucks and flicks at your clit, his fingers pushing in and out of you at a fast pace. you’re so close to coming, you can feel it in the way your body was tensing and your pussy was pulsing.

rafe releases your clit with a pop, his darkened over eyes finding yours as he continued to work you with his fingers. “i need to hear you, baby. not just feel you. let me hear how good you feel.”

your hands fall, a loud thwack resounding in the air from how hard you’d smacked the countertop. you scream out rafe’s name, your legs shaking as rafe goes back to sucking and licking at your clit, his thick fingers never slowing their movements.

“oh god… rafe! please? please fuck… feels so good.” you moan, your fingers digging into his neck again.

you feel rafe smile against your pussy, his tongue giving slow licks to your clit before he’s sucking it into his mouth again. your orgasm rushes through your seconds later, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you grip rafe’s neck, trying to keep yourself grounded.

rafe’s tongue and fingers work you through the high, never stopping until your body goes limp on the counter. he removes his face from between your legs, standing to his full height and smiling down at you.

“yeah… you’re so fuckin’ sweet.” rafe rasps, popping the button of his khakis before pulling down the zipper and sliding them down his legs. once he removes his boxers, your eyes widen at the sight of his long and thick cock.

rafe smirks, stroking himself slowly as he says, “don’t worry baby, it’s gonna feel so good. just lay back and let me take care of you.”

tagging some moots: @quinnsbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @nemesyaaa @rafescvntyclubgf @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @maybejj @cherryobx @memoirofasparklemuff1n @kiiyomei @dementedkittenribbon @hauntedfawnn

#*ೃ༄ my works #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #obx rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe x pogue!reader #rafe x reader

129 notes · View notes

kaisollisto · 3 days ago

Text

“Are you here?" Ava barely breathes it, there's a tension in the air that she can't recognize, an energy that squashes her. Her throat feels scratchy and she can feel the Halo slotted between her shoulders. Ava's flat on her back head turned to look over at Beatrice. She feels wimpy like a stomped flower, her left arm dangles dangerously close to Beatrice-territory. She wants to reach out, to touch Beatrice to confirm that she's here but something stops her. She feels so silly, she could easily shift over to touch Beatrice, shake her gently and -

Beatrice slides over, a firm sleepy sister warrior knife wielding badass with frumpy hair poofing from what remains of her low bun. She moves towards Ava, inches away from her but moves to answer her. It’s rare for Ava to see her like this. Beatrice is clearly fighting sleep, rubbing her eyes and doing her best to move in hopes that it’ll shake the sleepy spell.

She’s dressed in one of Ava’s ugly loose white shirts, a huge bass clashing with faded big blocky lettering that just reads “FISH”. Beatrice had looked at her weirdly when Ava had dug it out of the bins at a thrift store disheveled and ecstatic.

Ava had spent hours coaxing her into it doing her damn best to hide Beatrice’s laundry when she wasn’t looking. It fills a warm feeling in her chest and Ava wants to burrow further into it. It was a fool proof plan.

Ava found her shortness made it exhausting to reach up towards the Beatrice-level-cabinets. The halo pulls at her pinching and knotting up the muscles in her back after a long day of training. She feels it alive within her, an uncomfortable reminder sealed inside her back.

At the end of the day Ava settled on hinging at the waist. She had slowly started integrating Beatrice’s sleep shirts in cabinets that Beatrice had to bend down to reach. Ava always tried to situate herself at the scene of the crime doing her best to seem inconspicuous while she leaned over hungry for Beatrice’s reaction. Ava thumbed her findings down in the recess of her mind, her finger tracing over it in a hurried desperation. The time would pass and she did not want to forget.

(It helped, the imagery of Bea’s furrow when she would find her sleepwear underneath the sink when Ava would have to tuck her spine into the halo as she placed the shirt somewhere clean.)

Thanks to her genius planning Beatrice had finally caved and worn Ava’s huge “FISH” t-shirt after weeks of her persistence. She looked adorable, she was drowning in it and constantly tugging at it. She had found Beatrice loved to tuck it into the band of her sleep shorts creating puffy funny creases distorting the text even further to say “FSH”. It looked so ugly and old and endearing.

She looked out of her depth and it made Ava’s heart thump funny. Beatrice with her weird posh mannerisms combined with the peaceful unguarded look when she slumbered made her feel hot all over.

It was the prospect of the future, a glimpse into her life with Beatrice, of when they would grow old together. It shakes her, the idea that Beatrice will get wrinkles with her. She takes it seriously, a study that she isn’t well versed in but preparing for. It is a long hard internal debate flipping between what wrinkles will show first. Ava selfishly hopes it’s smile lines, that Beatrice will smile at her as much as she does in secret. She’s happy to be wrong, Beatrice’s forehead crinkles have always been cute. She hopes that Beatrice never stops looking at her, thinking of her. She wants to spend a long time being the source of her wrinkles. And just for right now she can handle the role of being just her friend.

Beatrice blinks one eye open, the other pressed against the pillow as she stifles a yawn. Her hand blocks her mouth in a delicate way and Ava can see her nails are short and uneven in places. Ava wishes she could touch them, study them in a way no one has done before. She wants to press against Beatrice hard enough to watch her skin fold around hers. Some sort of truth that she was here, that she is here.

Beatrice scoots over slowly, her elbow tucked under the pillow. She stops inches away from Ava, a frown set in her jaw. Ava mirrors her position albeit more awkwardly and more wiggling than Beatrice’s but she finds a place where the Halo won’t bite her back.

“I’m here,” Beatrice murmurs it, a quiet thing between them.

Ava closes her eyes hoping Beatrice won’t notice her shakiness. She blinks a few times before she presses closer, the arm she’s laying on moving to support her head underneath the pillow.

There’s so much to tell her, anything and nothing at all and Ava doesn’t know where to start. It constricts her throat, the constant stream of consciousness from inside of her heart. It’s horrible and she can’t stop it as the feeling balloons inside of her lungs. Ava wants help, she so desperately wants to feel okay again, to feel anything other than the stupid fucking halo. It grates on her nerves and muscles, a burning hot metal ring poking and prodding at the entirety of her upper torso. It leaves her reeling, a sort of anger that beckons for her to hurt (hurt something, hurt someone, hurt), disregarding the aftermath of tears and shame.

Ava is sure she’s shaking, a layer of sweat gathers between the space of her shoulder blades as the Halo lights up with her inner turmoil. It’s a faint pitiful thing that Ava would be ashamed of if not for the bone aching tiredness.

She wants to say she’s sorry the words clawing their way up her throat and it feels wrong to feel anything but that. There’s a sort of unspoken shame that haunts her with the Halo. It’s a thing she’s known long before any of this.

Beatrice drags her out of her turmoil with her hand hovering near Ava’s pinky. She has a gracefulness to it, like she has practiced it a hundred times over. It’s weird, to be in a bed, a soft and lumpy bed looking at Beatrice. Beatrice with such plain features and subtle cheekbones that Ava can’t stop looking. It pays off, watching Beatrice, Ava knows it when Bea smiles a grin too wide for polite acknowledgement and Ava can see her dimples pronounced.

“Can I?” Beatrice’s finger lingers near her hand, a hovering itch that Ava needs scratched. It’s so wholeheartedly Beatrice that Ava can do nothing but nod. Something inside of Ava aches harder than the rest of the organs inside of her. It’s the unwavering crushing thumping feeling that squeezes around her heart. The sincerity of Beatrice.

She places her hand over Ava’s and squeezes her gently. Beatrice’s hands are firm and soft. She can feel the callouses on her palms prodding at the back of her hand and wonders if Beatrice has ever had them fade away. If she’s had the pleasure of unscathed palms. Her hands are warm but not sweaty, not like Ava’s.

Ava can’t feel Beatrice’s pulse but she tries her best to match it. She imagines it would be a slow melody playing a duet with a classical track. Some sort of tune that spurs comfort or a feeling of nostalgia. She briefly wonders if Beatrice listens to music, if she seeks out music that has spoken to her. If there was a song that shook her to her core so deeply she had to sit down and digest it. There’s so much she still needs to know and so little time.

“I admit I’m not sure what you need from me.” Beatrice whispers it quietly, she’s hunched awkwardly, hovering close in Ava’s space but too far away for her own comfort.

Ava clamps her mouth shut, sure that “come closer” will betray her. That she will reach too far into Beatrice and take far too much.

Beatrice pays no mind to Ava’s silence and slowly caresses her hand, it’s a small little gesture that seems to have no set course. Ava briefly wonders if it’s the start of a massage or if Beatrice is looking for her joints underneath her skin and touching her tendons in apology.

It should be awkward, Beatrice and Ava orbiting each other in a lopsided manner. A rotational tilt that is unfamiliar to both of them and yet feels intimate. An unknown dance with their eyes closed and their breaths mingling. (It’s easy to follow Beatrice’s lead, Ava knows love.)

There’s nothing Ava can say to her, she chokes up at the prospect and they both blink at each other. She’s not sure what she needs, only that it’s nice having someone here.

Beatrice drowsily blinks rapidly and slowly at the same time as Ava watches swallowing the bits of her smile. Her hand has slowed its pathing, opting to curl on the inside of Ava’s fingers. It’s endearing watching one of her favorite bad ass sister warriors lose against sleep. It softens the edges of Beatrice who is always carrying some unseen obligation. (Here it is only the two of them free of their past and future burdens, just two girls sprawled thinly on hopes and dreams).

She can feel Beatrice’s grip loosen, she’s going to fall back asleep any minute now but Ava doesn’t have the heart to keep her up. Beatrice is no doubt tired, powered by her own sleeping and eating habits unlike Ava who has the artifact to juice her up.

She isn’t quite unwound but she feels manageable now. It’s weird to be within reach of Beatrice, someone who cares about her. To be in proximity of someone who will look for her, be in step with her, maybe it’s duty but Ava holds it close to her heart regardless. (It’s all the same to her, devotion, loyalty, love).

She clings to Beatrice afraid to let the moment go, she had called and someone had answered, Bea had answered. Ava can feel her eyes watering, it almost feels like a distant dream. She tucks her chin closer to chest and thinks, how awful to be loved.

She can feel her throat closing up and she squeezes Bea’s hand just a tiny bit harder. (She answers in the twitch of her hand, clearly on the cusp of sleep). The Halo still thunders in her back throbbing some fatal fate but here in the hush of night grounded by the touch of Beatrice she has some reprieve. (Part 1)

#tko_writes #oh how awful it is to be loved #had that revelation when my sister kept texting me if I was alive and ok oh boy that fucked me up #hello dytik installment #it's probably gonna run as a 5 times __ and the 1 time __ but that's if i can pull 3 more things out of my ass #hahahah #ooops #there's like no structure here #I think i did too much trying to jampack everything #but we'll see #closing my eyes and hitting post #cuz we r writing ugly and scared #zzzzzz #THAT'S NOT MY PROBLEM #I JUST WRITE AND MAKE MISTAKES AND LEARN FROM IT #so many good ideas here but sometimes they don't all fit together and that's what i think what happened #Offtopic I read a fic from Arcane and it was like CaitVi but from the perspective of Cait's mom (n cait was transfem WOOOOOOOOOOOOO)#and that shook me and I briefly fantasized about Avatrice but through Bea's parents #Somethign something i think it would nice to see complex characters come to life instead of writing it off as #homophobia n typical strict asian parents #and instead as sometimes you venture into the unknown unsure whether you will be whole on the other side and it is the only way you know ho #to live and you must make sure that your child knows the same feels the same lives the same way you only know how because there is no optio #for failure and ur just so scared by that failure that you don't want your child to go through it and having to learn and adapt to the new #future of hey it doesn't have to be this way anymore. TLDR IS THERE ANYTHING MORE UNDOING THAN A DAUGHTER #it all boils down to having a CHILD AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA but like i get it #it's just the complexity of hating your parents but understanding why they are the way they are and how could you fault them when this is #all they've ever known #and it's fucked up but it's still love #love for you and blah blah blah blah #anyway enough yapping for a diff story

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astrolook · 17 hours ago

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Mercury in the houses

(Where does your brain do the most damage? Let’s find out! 😆)

Mercury in the 1st House: "I Talk, Therefore I Am." 📝

Speaks like they’re in a debate competition—even when ordering coffee. ☕

When it comes to job/career, can succeed in anything requiring fast thinking, persuasion, or scamming people legally. (Lawyer, salesperson, journalist.)

Will text you a 3-paragraph explanation for why they took 5 minutes to reply. 📱

Probably debated with your siblings (if you have any) so much as a child they now have trust issues.

Flirts like it's a TED Talk—informative, persuasive, and slightly exhausting.

Looks like their pen was possessed by a demon mid-word. 👻

Your brain runs at 5G speed, but their mouth runs at 6G.

Mercury in the 2nd House: "Money Talks… and So Do I!"💰

Talks slow and calculated—like they’re charging per word.

For job/career, you are perfect for finance, business, or making passive-aggressive Etsy shops.

"Who owes me $15 from 2020? I remember."

Your Handwriting: Fancy-looking cursive that belongs on an expensive check. ✍️

If has family, you might have an Excel sheet of who spent what on Christmas gifts. 🎁

Watches finance YouTubers like they’re movies.

Mercury in the 3rd House: "I Have 1000 Thoughts Per Minute."

Can out-talk an auctioneer. Never. Shuts. Up. Talks so fast, even their Wi-Fi can’t keep up.

For job/career, you could do well as journalist, social media manager, or that one coworker who emails at 3 AM.

Chaotic bisexual, pansexual, or flirts for sport. 🏆

Handwriting: Could be unreadable. Like a doctor’s prescription.

Probably has 50 tabs opened at once.

ADHD? I've seen this placement with people who has mercury in 3rd house.

Mercury in the 4th House: "Let’s Overthink Our Childhood."📝

When they talk it sounds like a therapist even when giving food orders.

For job/career, anything home-based (Freelancer, therapist, professional nostalgic, home maker).

Writes long emotional texts and then deletes them.

They're the one that tells their sibling, "Mom always liked me better" or "You're adopted".

Handwriting: Cutesy and emotional—like a grandma’s love letter.

On their social media accounts, they posts sentimental throwbacks way too much.

Biggest Flaw: Lives in the past.

Mercury in the 5th House: "Flirting is My Second Language."📝

Flirty, dramatic, and annoyingly charming.

For job/career, anything creative—actor, writer, public speaker, meme creator.

Flirts with everyone, dates no one. Flirting in the comments section.

Was the funny but annoying child.

Can’t take anything seriously.

Mercury in the 6th House: "I think in bullet points."

If anyone asks them a question, it would sound like a Google search result.

For job/career, perfectionist boss (or their employee’s worst nightmare).

Too busy analyzing red flags to enjoy romance.

Handwriting: Neat, small, and borderline obsessive.

Leaves detailed Yelp reviews.

Mercury in the 7th House: "Let’s Discuss This… Again."📝

Speaks in "we" instead of "I" (even when they’re single).

For job/career, they are good at lawyer, diplomat, or customer service expert.

Always "the mediator" in sibling fights.

Plays marriage counselor to their parents.

Can’t be alone, but overthinks commitment.

Mercury in the 8th House: "Secrets? I Know Them All."📝

The way they talk: Low voice, deep words, big secrets.

For job/career, they're good at investigator, psychologist, hacker, or a blackmail expert.

In love, communicates in mystery and sexual tension.

Handwriting: Looks like a serial killer’s notes.

Leaves cryptic tweets.

Won’t admit their sexuality… but they are. Sometimes they could be straight, but a sibling could be gay.

Mercury in the 9th House: "I will talk your ear off about philosophy and conspiracy theories" 📝

Flirts by explaining history.

In love, turns deep convos into foreplay.

Probably thinks they’re smarter than their parents.

Posts long Reddit rants.

Handwriting: Could be messy, but big and confident.

For job/career, could excel at teacher, philosopher, or annoying podcast host.

Mercury in the 10th House: "I’m CEO of Overthinking My Career."📝

Talks like a LinkedIn post and takes life too seriously.

For job/career, could be a CEO, politician, or a corporate robot, lol.

Will literally schedule date nights.

Takes love as seriously as a business contract.

Will only befriend "useful people."

Mostly posts work-related updates.

Mercury in the 11th House: "I'm the human embodiment of a Reddit thread"📝

Speaks like they’re in a sci-fi movie.

Tech startup, social activist, or online troll.

In love, probably falls for their best friend.

Might like the idea of "open-minded" relationships.

The "black sheep" of the family.

Handwriting: Either it looks like it belongs on a protest sign or kinda bad.

Mercury in the 12th House: "Did I Say That Out Loud?"

Mumbles, forgets what they were saying.

Job/Career: Psychic, therapist, or mysterious writer. If writes, these people would write under a pen name.

Either super close to their siblings or never speaks to them.

Very much into horror, psychological thriller movies.

Handwriting: Looks like a haunted diary.

Terrible at explaining emotions but fantastic at writing it.

Mercury is where your brain lives, where your mouth runs, and where your Wi-Fi connection to reality glitches. 😆🌍✨

#mercury sign #astrology #vedic astrology #vedicwisdom #astrology readings #astro observations #astro notes #spirituality #spiritual journey #spiritual awakening

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anotherdayforchaosfay · 7 hours ago

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Six years ago, I lost all motivation to write more fanfiction. Multichapter fics left unfinished, virtually no comments to feed the motivation, I saved energy by keeping the story in my head.

Then I found new inspiration and drive with a new game release. I'm writing like a madwoman. A person left a comment on an older fic, telling me how much loved the work, and are saddened the character's story is unfinished. It was a surprise to see that seeing as I received virtually zero comments for all the fics I wrote for that character. So, for this reader, I wrote a bridge/closure, because she's connected to the new game. They've taken to leaving a comment on virtually every new piece I've posted. This is giving me life and drive to share my work.

If those stories you love are unfinished, leave comments. Feed the beast and tell the writer how much you looooooove the work. Go absolutely bonkers with it. You might be the very reason it's finished.

We have lives and not an infinite amount of energy. If the stories aren't getting attention from readers, they're likely not getting attention from the writers. Why would we want to waste our limited time and energy on something that requires so much work when readers, who take mere minutes to read the stories, don't take a few minutes to write how much they loved it?

idk if this is a young fan thing or new fandom culture but some of yall think fics are abandoned way too quickly. a few months or a year or two is not unusual to go without a fic update. sometimes fics take longer to write, other times writers have rl events, or maybe there's multiple fics and one gets more priority. there are tons of reasons for fics not to be updated every week or every month. it also isn't uncommon for people to come back and update fics after a number of years—ive read updates that took five, or ten years. people's lives change, but they still want to tell their stories. personally, i never consider a fic abandoned unless the author has said so; though if it's been a few years i manage my expectations. but a last update being a year ago is... generally not a sign that a writer has abandoned their fic

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utterlyazriel · 3 days ago

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Oh, that's good to know, darling! I was just worried someone was robbin' you! On the other hand... Would you give us your Arthur Morgan fics recs? Tumblr or ao3? <3 if its not too much trouble!

[rubs my hands together like a devious lil fly] why nonnie i would be delighted to share as i've been far too slack in sharing what i've been reading!! in no particular order <3

the leather and lace series by the oh so talented @photo1030 this one is a big currently twenty five (25!) chaptered fic with that dynamic u hunger for when you play the game... like oof, it hits the spot, it scratches the itch, etc etc big ol chefs kiss from sloane <3

as far as dreams go / part two by @serawritesthings mutual pining my goddamn BELOVED this is a big long juicy fic with that sweet, sweet miscommunication! incredible prose and someone who loves arthur the same way i do i reckon <3

of horses and men by @eaaaazygurl any fic that lets the reader be there for arthur is one i'm gobbling down fr. i actually couldn't believe this beauty doesn't have more notes

the caretaker by @immajustvibehere MY BIG SOFTIEEEE like this guy gets it, the prompt was tasty but the delivery? freakin scrumptious

graphite and gratitude by @bimrsadler oughhh something about this dynamic actually tickles me pink, getting wound up but arthur being the one who easily unwind you like that's the stuff man

salt and pepper by @hihomeghere cos i also eat up any fic that lets me live out the fantasy of grabbing gorgeous arthur morgan by the face and telling him that he's HAWT

same goes for sweet dreams by @cowboydisaster like ough toothrotting fluff actually, what fanfiction was created for, amazing, showstopping, unbeatable, etc etc

give me my sin again by @messrmoonyy we love a little devoted secret relationship.... and sin, we love sin 🙂‍↕️

conflicted spaces by @not-neverland06 WHEWWW a whole ass story to devour, i love love love having a plot to sink my teeth into and the hurt/comfort aspect of the whole thing just sweetens the deal <3

one warm day is all i really need by @threadbearsweater i'll be real with u i don't remember this one off the top of my head BUT i have high standards to have things shelved away in my likes, waiting to be properly rbed, so i trust in my heart its spectacular

ok that's all for now <3 i should really make an effort to do some occasional recs because this was hella fun! thank you for asking nonnie! hopefully you find something new!

mwah x

#sloane speaks #anon #asks #sloane's recs #<- we'll make a tag for that :D #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan recs #rdr2 recs #also anon i love ur lil southern accent in your ask 😭 its adorable and did not go unnoticed #unless u do normally say darling and robbin'.... in which case hoe is you arthur morgan #and hoe is you free friday night #HEHE

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makeyoumine69 · 2 days ago

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valentines with patrick pls but it ends with patrick being miserable 🙏

Perfect

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Can love truly conquer inner demons, or does walking away become the bravest Valentine’s gift of all?

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Implied smut and a lot of angst.

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [MY IMAGINES AND SHORT REQUESTS].

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: My Darkest Days—Perfect💌

𝐀/𝐍: I want to wish everyone a happy Valentine's Day! Never stop believing in love! And thank you so much for this request because it fits my current mood a lot!💔

The more Patrick got to know you, the more he realized how pure-hearted and kind you were, literally perfect. And at some point he couldn't stand it anymore, because how could you be so perfect? Even the way you laughed was perfect and your smile was as bright as a summer day in New York. The very day the two of you met. And somehow, Bateman knew from the beginning that your presence in his life would change everything, including himself, and he was not ready or happy for that.

But the moment you opened the window in the dark room, you couldn't blame the light coming in and eliminating everything around you, because that's how things work in our world. Simple physical laws against which we are all helpless. And every single second that Patrick was thinking about why he couldn't hurt you physically or mentally, he was suffering from the stabbing pain in his chest, as if his heart was locked in the chains of molten iron.

The man was trying to find an answer that simply didn't exist.

Finally, in desperation, Bateman even considered asking you this question—what was so special about you? Besides the fact that you were just perfect for him? And maybe for the world? But every time he tried to question you, the two of you ended up lost in the fire of passion that you couldn't control, not that you really wanted to control it. Those raw, vivid emotions soon became his most addictive drug because he could finally feel himself alive. The intimacy he despised became a need he couldn't live without, and he was so damn grateful to you that you didn't see it as his weakness. You were just being yourself, accepting him as he was.

But when the woman loved a man and the man loved a woman, but in his twisted way, it couldn't be easy, even though Patrick really tried to make it work. He just knew that one day his own rage would take over and he'd kill you—never in his life did he feel so disgusted than when he imagined your blood on his hands. And it was weird as hell.

"...and we are going to have a little kitten," you murmured, sitting next to Patrick on the warm carpet by the fireplace. "Oh God, I never asked if you even like cats..."

Trapped in his thoughts, Patrick didn't seem to notice your small talk, but when you put your head on his shoulder, he flinched a little, but didn't push you away. "I, uh, never really thought about it," he replied, looking at you. "Tell me something, darling. Are you happy here?"

With a broad smile, you giggled and hugged his arm. "Of course I am happy! Spending Valentine's Day not anywhere but in Aspen seems like a dream!"

"Dream?"

"Yes, very much like a dream," you added, glancing back at him with your doe eyes, where the fire sparks were glimmering. "I know it doesn't seem like much to you. But to me it's like a winter fairytale come true."

Bateman hummed and instinctively pecked your forehead, then your temple, until his warm lips found yours; you didn't hesitate and kissed him back, hugging his strong neck and brushing his slicked-back hair a little. There was something desperate about the way the man held you in his embrace, but you overlooked it, unable to think of anything but the heat radiating from his sturdy body.

"I must say, you always have the best way with words," he whispered into your neck before nipping at your sensitive skin, sending little shivers through your slightly trembling form. "And I like it."

You couldn't stop yourself from laughing when Patrick rubbed his nose against your neck and unintentionally tickled you. "Uh, Patrick!" You snickered and turned away from him. "Too many compliments from you today. Did something happen?"

Silence fell over the spacious room, only the faint ticking of the fireplace could be heard for a while before Bateman pulled you onto his lap and pressed you against his chest so you could hear his steady heartbeat—the soft material of his sweater felt so comforting you thought you were going to burst into tears from how much you loved this man.

"No, nothing happened," he finally replied, stroking the top of your head. "Just a little nervous about the main surprise I prepared for you."

"Huh?"

"After we're done with our planned events, I'd like to present it to you," Bateman cupped your face, his lips curled into that classic boy-next-door smile that always had the most charming effect on you. "So, have you ever been to the hot springs?"

Before heading out to the best springs in Colorado, not far from Aspen, the two of you made snowmen and played snowball before you decided to compete with Patrick in strength, trying to knock him down only to end up being pushed into the big pile of snow. After laughing for a while, Bateman noticed your slightly offended look, and the next thing you knew, the man turned around and fell on his back next to you, leaving you both giggling at how silly you both looked. But you didn't care because you were lying together in the snow, holding hands and looking up at the sky, which was so clean and white, as if it was covered with snow as well.

Was this even real?

Later, in Glenwood Springs, you found out that there were almost only two of you, and that privacy helped a lot when you were swimming naked in the hot springs, exhaling the white steam because the temperature around you was quite low.

Skin against skin, his eager lips on yours, drowning out all the little moans that tried to escape your trembling throat as he rubbed your swollen folds while you were both still submerged in the water. You wanted to claw at his skin, leaning on his shoulders and throwing your head back to give him more space as he kissed you here and there.

Patrick, mmhm, please, don’t stop.

The man longed to etch those words into his mind, along with the intoxicating sensation of owning you in every possible way. And if your soul could be touched, he could swear he would touch it with a tenderness he had never known before. Because finding someone with a pure soul was something so rare these days. Something almost surreal. Something Bateman secretly thirsted for, but realized too late.

When you came back to Aspen to the luxurious winter house he rented, you spent a dear hour reading The Great Gatsby and even though Patrick kept commenting on how stupid and pathetic it was of Gatsby to try to impress an arrogant bitch like Daisy, you both enjoyed the evening anyway because you could listen to him read the passages forever—his voice was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Still, you never really confessed it to him, thinking he would call you silly and... too romantic? Too emotional?

Emotions, emotions, emotions.

Having sex with someone doesn't mean you have feelings for them. Loving someone doesn't always mean it will last forever. Only losing someone feels like something permanent. And Patrick couldn't let that happen.

When you were busy cooking something for dinner, Bateman literally came out of nowhere, hugged you from behind, and inhaled your scent with his eyes closed. Every little detail of you mattered, every little thing—the way you exhaled in surprise, almost jumping up, and the way you were embarrassed when he slipped his hands under your top to tease your nipples, making them hard and sensitive. And as the pot slowly simmered on the small fire, you both worshipped each other, giving everything you had, until Patrick reached his limit and lifted you up only to place you on the kitchen counter, wiping everything from its surface. Almost immediately, without wasting a second, the man began to undo your pants, kneading your breasts and leaving wet trails of kisses along your belly, and when he reached your mound, he nuzzled against it and you could swear you saw his eyes shimmer, but not from fire or anything.

Were those tears?

…

You kept asking yourself the same question a month later.

How many times did you read the notebook he gave you as his "main suprise" for Valentine's Day? The gift that unintentionally broke your heart and made you doubt if you could ever fall in love again. Holding a small notebook in your hands, you opened it and traced a finger along his somewhat chaotic handwriting, then the little doodles he made, until you turned several pages and stopped on the last one, where a beautiful doodle of your little figure was drawn. And that short phrase written in the top right corner that said 'I love you', that always made you cry, but after reading it so many times now, all you felt was a void. As if everything that made you feel alive had been erased from you in the most brutal way.

Why did he leave you like this? Why couldn't he just tell you that he had met someone else? Probably someone more beautiful by today's standards. Someone he would be proud to show off in public. Why did he choose to use the fear of hurting you as an excuse? Why?

You would never believe it. It was just impossible to believe that the man who treated you like his treasure could leave you because he was afraid of hurting you, because he thought you would find someone "better", because he thought he didn't deserve you at all. Covering your face in your hands, you closed your eyes and cried, the notebook falling to your feet. But the words written inside had already left deep scars on your mind.

"...all those days when I thought about losing you, I realized that I was so selfish, thinking only of myself and never of you. So now I'm finally thinking about you, my love. Please don't cry, I hate to see you cry. And please forgive me for everything I've done. There won't be a single day that I don't think about the time we spent together. I just want you to be happy and ALIVE. With me...that wouldn't be possible. I love you...I'm sorry. I really am."

The rain fell in a steady rhythm, tapping against the windowpane like a melancholy melody. Patrick stood in the shadows, just beyond the glow of the streetlamp, his coat damp and clinging to his shoulders. From here he could see you through the frosted glass of the café, sitting alone at a corner table, a book in your hands. You looked the same, but different.

Concentrating on reading, you laughed at something in the book, and the sound carried through the glass, piercing his chest like a blade. Bateman wanted to go inside, to sit across from you and tell you everything—how he had never stopped loving you, how he had watched you from afar, how he had spent every day since he left you trying to become someone worthy of you. But he didn't move. He couldn't.

Because he knew that even now, after all this time, he still wasn't enough.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines #slasher fanfic

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withacapitalp · 2 days ago

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Stuff Me, Hug Me, Take Me Home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And now…well now they were at the mall.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was perfect.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Firm or soft?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, are you ready?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Beddie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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