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artsninspo · 3 days ago

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005 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 004

♠ summary: Lorence's unexpected 'crashout' has unexpected consequences.

♠ warnings: there is some backstory for Lorence that may be triggering to readers.

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ word-count: ~3K

⌖ - Various Locations

It’s been a week since I've been home or exercised, so I practice deep breaths as I slow my run to a jog and turn the corner into my cul-de-sac. Checking my watch I see my heart rate is higher than it needs to be. It’s one of the results of my recent unemployment. Random streaks where my heart races without due cause - like I’m under attack when my brain knows I’m safe and sound. I try to help my body out by walking when I see a cherry red Mercedes parked in front of my home. I take in more air to aid in the slowing of my heart rate. I take my phone from my vest and look over the outdoor surveillance, relief finds me the instant I recognize Cassandra.

“You haven't been poached already have you?” she asks getting out of her car, stilettos hit the pavement. I expect her to be holding a box of my things cleared out from my office but she’s only holding her briefcase.

“Hey” I smile and she does too.

“How are you? You look fantastic” she says like the last time we were in each other's presence it wasnt disastrous. That was a little over a week ago now.

“Thanks, so do you” I force a smile feeling awkward.

“Can I come in so we can talk?” she asks, walking up the front steps behind me. I nod until a bark sounds from inside. I turn to see she looks terrified.

Snickering, I shake my head. “Just give me a moment to let the dog out”

“Take your time” she nods, taking a step back.

“Back” I say before unlocking the door. I look down at Beau who pushes past me to look outside. “Outside Beau” I tell my four legged protector. He looks up at me before giving me an annoyed chuff and following me to the back door. I let him out to the backyard and he stays by the glass to observe my guest. I find Cassandra on the porch waiting patiently and let her in. She enters my home with wide eyes.

“Wow, this is not what I expected” she remarks looking up like most people do when they enter my home. The skylights are a distinctive feature of the entryway, as is the conversation pit in my living room. People usually don't expect this to be my style. I bet Cassandra’s home is something straight out of architecture's digest. There’s nothing sterile or outwardly luxurious about my space with the exception of the space itself. The more eclectic decor style is in direct contrast to my occupation which is what I need to stay balanced.

“Coffee?” I ask walking into the kitchen only to hear Beau bark again. Cassandra jumps.

“That's a bear” she comments and I smile glancing at Beau who stands at attention ready for duty.

“Teddy bear” I laugh looking at him. “You’re scared and he can be a bit of a bully” I explain withholding that Beau knows i’ve been off my game and has been more protective than ever lately. Cassandra casts the dog another look before placing her briefcase down onto the island. “Is this my release?” I ask.

“No,” she scoffs. “This is your contract.” Cassandra smiles, throwing me for a loop.

“But … I quit” I remind her and she shrugs.

“Those big ears never listen” she scoffs mocking my outburst and I feel blood rush into my cheeks, she heard that too. I shouldn't laugh but I do remember my insult to the Bos- Terry. “Don’t hate me because I didn't know. Take it up with Terry and Joel. It was all a test. Usually at the director level there’s a lot of bullshit that gets thrown your way. Your testing had almost no gaps - except for one. Dealing with dominant figures or confrontational men. It was fine but then Terry was gonna keep you out of certain circuit line ups. Joel didn’t want that and pushed for you to have your cull clearances. Believe me I had no idea Lorence. The assholes made a bet. Joel had faith in you standing your ground. Terry didn’t. It wasn’t supposed to go as far as it did - You passed with flying colours” Cassandra says and I sit. My head spins as I try to replay her words in an effort to make sense of what the fuck just came out of her mouth.

I raise an angry and judgemental brow. “So they send you here?”

“You were never supposed to quit. You were supposed to just either cave or hold out. Holding out would’ve meant you get full clearance, caving would mean it was limited. Terry was trying to be antagonistic but I think he was expecting sparks at best not a bomb.” Cassandra smiles like the memory of my crash out is a five star film.

“So they just decided to play with my head?” I ask.

“No, no things went too far. Every Director gets tested before they can be trusted with a full mission. It's Terry being overly cautious. It’s important to him that his company’s leadership is capable. Joel saw an opportunity to get you on the spring circuit with him and proposed it to Terry after you declined the promotion from my understanding.” Cassandra says with an eye roll.

“It’s so idiotic I know it made sense to them” I swallow a bitter taste knowing exactly why there’s a glaring gap in my testing. The idea that Richmond is aware of it gives me an instant headache.

“Well, they threw money at you first and it didn't sway you. Money is the biggest barrier to loyalty in our field since we’re all for hire. Glory doesn't usually sway us women - we aren't as ego driven. Love/sex/attraction whatever has never swayed you so the prospect of rubbing elbows with elite men and becoming compromised was no worries either. Richmond was content moving forward after that but apparently barred you from a few locations because of the personality types. Joel advocated for you apparently there's a weakness in your testing there. Richmond agreed. You were just supposed to stand your ground or leave - I don't think he expected you to blow up on him or to get so angry. He didn't think you had it in you. They’re assholes” Cassandra remarks and Richmonds smug smirk as the elevator doors closed returns to me. The reverie makes sense now as the puzzle pieces click into place. It hadn't been amusement born out of cruelty - he was impressed. I find myself pacing as the truth of the matter comes to me and I think of Joel. I look at Cassandra who’s eyes show remorse.

“So the contract stands and I can keep my job?” I ask and she nods.

“Yes” she responds.

“Would it be wrong to call bullshit, he said I overestimated my importance-”

“He didn't expect you to quit AT ALL or the insubordination. I mean the shit you pulled” Cassandra smiles shaking her head. “ Too Good! I don't even go that far with him. I honestly think he likes you, because that restraint was TOTALLY unlike him" she remarks.

“Likes me? He can't stand me! If that was restraint the man needs a tranquilizer!” I snap and she giggles in agreement.

“The only reason I didn't meet you at the lobby was because he was smiling and told me to let you cool off. The smile threw me and I made him explain. All this time he thought you were scared of him.”

“I AM!” I shout. “He’s NUTS!” I add.

“When none of us could get a hold of you he asked me to do a housecall personally and I’m nobody's gopher. He likes you.” she insists.

“Then I don't know if I want to be liked,” I confess.

“Fair enough. You can take another week off if you want but please don’t quit. I want you around for the summer circuit - it’s too much of a sausage fest.” she says making a face and I feel like the contract in front of me is an answered prayer.

“What if I failed?” I ask, still thrown by lifes new reality.

“Like I said, the Boss was willing to keep you on in a more limited role. It was Joel who knew you wouldn’t just sit there and take it” Cassandra explains and I sigh deeply. It makes sense. Joel’s meddling and willingness to be a third party negotiator on my behalf, his pushing for me to join his ranks. No one else knows my story better to exploit it. He always said I was a great operative - I should have believed him.

“So when am I scheduled back?” I ask.

“You can start Monday if that works for you.”

“It does” I agree, resigned to make it work.

“See you Monday,” she smiles, closing her briefcase.

“See you then” I mutter walking her out. When her car pulls off I head to let Beau in. My nerves are shot but I manage to make breakfast. After a day of looking over the contract sporadically I sign my name across the dotted line. Lorence Cole.

…

“So, how are you gonna swing it on Monday?” my cousin Sincere asks as we sit enjoying cocktails. I’ve told her everything I know to be true about the past few weeks and she's as disturbed by the games at hand as I am.

“I don’t know - I’m still not so sure all of that argument was acting on his part” I confess taking a long sip.

“Me neither but I mean if he’s never yelled at you before then maybe he’s a great actor” she says making a point. I think back to most of our discussions in the past month or so and most of them have been with his tablet handy with my file. He’d been looking into me so it’s hardly a stretch to consider my greatest weakness was used against me.

“It just sucks that my boss has to know my biological mother let her asshole boyfriend verbally abuse me as a toddler and then picked him over being a mother to me” I confess. Sin holds my gaze. It’s not something I bring up, ever. My grandparents stepped in the moment they found out what was going on. My mother gave me up without a second thought. My grandparents legally adopted me at five and they’ve done everything humanly possible to make up for the two years my mom had subjected me to mistreatment.

“It is,” Sin agrees, shifting in her seat. “But you stood up for yourself” she smiles, holding a hand out for me and I nod. Overwhelmed by the past.

“I didn't realize those wounds were still so raw” I sigh looking into my glass. The older I get the more angry the situation makes me. Sure my mother was a young mom but there’s nothing I can conceive of that would ever justify how she treated me. When her boyfriend started coming around I was two and I had to become silent and fend for myself. He’d slap her for not ‘training me’ right and rant for what felt like hours. The more I cried the angrier he got. He'd have me stand in the corner for what felt like hours if I made too much noise or asked my mother for something. By four the cost of needing my mother was too high and she started spitting his rhetoric back at me. His cheating, his absence, his abuse was all my fault. That Christmas my entire family knew something was wrong when I didn’t say a word unless spoken to and couldn't maintain eye contact. When I arranged my christmas presents in a line and smiled at them silently from far away instead of playing with my cousins. They knew something was seriously wrong, four year olds don’t have that kind of restraint. But I was far from alone in this world. My grandfather was madder than anything I've ever witnessed when he heard my mother tell him I was trained right - like a dog. My aunties, great aunts, uncles and cousins rallied around me. I’d never put it together that the reason Richmond rattled me as much as he does was because of my childhood.

“Lo, you’re human, don’t be hard on yourself” she says, giving me a hug and I sigh. “There’s nothing wrong with you, at ALL. You're the cutest, smartest, nicest, smartest, sexiest, bravest, badass I know - there’s too much to love” she says and her kind words mean a lot to me.

“Don’t tell mom and dad - I don't want them to worry” I sign.

“Worrying is our job - we’re family,” Sincere says. Though she may be right I don't want anyone to worry more than they already do. So I put on a brave face and we celebrate my promotion and I brace for monday.

_________

Monday, HQ

No one spares me any second glances as I head in after my week long leave. It’s business as usual as I cross the floor and head to my office. I don't even make it there before my coworkers are asking me for assistance with their upcoming projects. When I sit down I find myself thankful for the discretion employed by Richmond. Knowing no one knows what transpired in Switzerland is a relief. I look out my window after signing in and see my inbox has imploded with emails in my absence. I spent the first half an hour of my day organizing what I can and delegating the rest. I’m due for a break when Joel knocks on my office door. He’s lucky we’re at work because if we were anywhere else I'd swing on him for the circus he created in Switzerland. I scowl instead and he raises his hands.

“I come in peace” he says before taking a seat.

“You're a real jerk, you know that?” I snap.

“You were gonna get benched from all the good stuff, now you get to see the world. Monaco’s Grand Prix is coming up” he shrugs without apology. “Besides Richmond was impressed, didn't think you had it in you - he didn’t want to push”

“So Richmond cares about my feelings more than you do I see?” I comment and Joel sits forward. Now I've gone too far.

“I told you a hundred times I’ll put that fool out of his misery quick and easy or slow and cruel for you.” Joel whispers repeating the open ended offer he holds for my moms ex-boyfriend.

“You’re not just my mentor Joel, you're my friend so you can't just put me in that headspace because you think I can take it” I explain sticking to the issue at hand.

“Was I wrong?” Joel asks and I sigh because he’s missing the point. “You’re non confrontational and I love that you're always considering alternatives and collateral. You can fight but it’s your last resort and you act like it. You aren't a small fish anymore Lo. People have to know when they swing you're swinging back. I mean if I’m around i’ll swing for you too but some aggression is your friend - you don't want anyone mistaking your passivity for weakness. It’s dangerous at this level.” he says, ever the mentor.

“It was still mean.” I tell him and he sighs, shaking his head at my sensitivity.

“I’ll make it up to you” Joel promises.

“Swear?”

“Swear it” he says and I nod, conceding this round. He gives me a hug. “Congratulations” he smiles before heading off to whatever he has going on. I’m in the middle of taking notes on one of my team's presentations when Richmond knocks on the door. The team shuffles smiling and muttering greetings as they scatter without being asked. That’s the kind of impact Richmond has. Unfortunately now I can no longer leave too. His expression is typical as he closes the glass door behind him. He’s dressed down today, the glasses and black cashmere sweater somehow make him look less intimidating. He smirks, taking a seat at the table my team was just occupying in my office.

“You don't have to apologize,” he says, breaking the silence as he slides a tablet my way. “Get to know your team more intimately for the next few weeks then make your picks for upcoming assignments wisely.” he instructs in the same level tone as always. I take the tablet and it unlocks showing me my options.

“Sir” I nod like I always do and he nods.

“Any issues, questions, comments or concerns can be directed to Jameson or myself” he explains.

“Okay” I nod, maintaining eye contact for the first time.

“Cassandra has placed your acceptance of this post in tomorrow's newsletter - so if you have any reservations now’s the time to object” he says.

“I’m fine” I tell him not wanting a do over of our last discussion. The playing field between us seems more level now that he knows what I’m made of.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes” I nod and he swallows.

“I’m clear on what you think of me but my anger and management of this company isn't to indulge self-importance. I know how people think and I understand the risks of carelessness. Everyone here has signed up to do the job, not to be the casualty of poor preparation, exhaustion or laziness.” Richmond explains calmly.

“I know and I always put my best foot forward.” I tell him.

“That’s why we’ve never had an issue and we aren't likely to. I’m excellent at self-regulation” he says, making my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I swallow feeling put on the spot. He gets up without forcing me to sit in it. “But if you have any feedback Cole, It’s welcome my big ears are quite receptive” he adds leaving and I place my head in my hands cursing my big mouth.

authors note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter and the little plot-twist I put in there. Let me know if you saw it coming. Now that Lorence can no longer run from Mr. Richmond things should get ... interesting. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter. Is Lorence ever gonna live the big ears comment down? Reblog, Comment and Like.

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #aaron pierre imagine #aaron pierre fanfic #aaron fics #terry richmond x black female reader #terry richmond x black oc #terry richmond imagine #terry richmond #terry richmond x you #rebel ridge fanfiction #rebel ridge

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sillyuin · 2 days ago

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Valentine's day with svt (Vocal Unit)

Genre: fluff fluff fluff.

Pairing: svt vocal unit x reader.

Warnings: none.

- Yuin's note: This is the part 1/3 of my valentine's day with svt special. I'll be posting the next parts during the day or next, so wait for it ♥ also, happy birthday my fellow Carat, take it as a gift for you ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

Jeonghan. Playing board games.

He likes games and loves to cheat on them, that’s nothing new for you. When he told you to have a game night for valentine’s you were expecting for him to be the mischievous angel-faced he is. But he had an ace up his sleeve that you weren't prepared for.

“The loser gotta give the winner a kiss,” he said in a serious tone.

You raised an eyebrow, “if you want me to kiss you just ask me.”

He laughed softly, like he was expecting for you to say such a statement. “But, the winner has the right to ask the way they want it to be.”

“What… Does that mean?”

“I don’t know” Jeonghan bit his lower lip, locking his eyes on yours. “Just try not to lose the game”.

It was probably the hardest game you ever played in your life, not because you haven’t played Monopoly before, but because his gaze was on you all the time, as if Jeonghan was able to read even the deepest thought in your mind.

Whatever he was thinking, you made a double effort to not fail into his love games. But let’s be honest, it’s a sweet temptation you’d like to try without hesitation.

Joshua. Baking cookies for each other.

Something so simple and so endearing at the same time, there’s nothing like an afternoon filled with laughs and the delicious smell of cookies, as the promise of a sweet and romantic night.

“Josh, can you give me the choco chips?” you asked, while checking the recipe on your phone. However, he said nothing, “Josh… Joshua!”

“Hey, don’t scream at me” he complained in a sassy manner, “I’m just beside you, and I’m busy”.

You turned to see what he was doing, and raised an eyebrow, confused. “Aren’t we supposed to make cookies with choco chips?”

“Yeah”.

“Then, what is that?”

“Oh, this” Joshua’s smile was so big that the corners of his eyes narrowed slightly, and he proudly show you his creation, “it’s for you. Do you like it?”

He was holding a tray full of those calico-shaped cookies you wanted to try. The kitty shaped cookies were actually very cute, so much that you even forgot why you raised your voice at him.

“When did you baked them?”

“Before you came home. I wanted to try something different.” Joshua stared at you tilting his head, “I bake for you and you bake for me, then we watch one of those romcon you love as much as me”.

“Sounds good for me.” you laughed low as you continued with your cookies, “but you have to wait for me, I need to finish these.”

“Okay” He approached you, resting his chin on your shoulder as he hugged you from behind, “I'll be here just checking in your work. Please do as if I’m not here”.

Woozi. Spa night.

He’s always about work, but also needs a break from time to time. Now, your time has come: No phones, no responsibilities, just the two of you taking care of each other in the warmth of your shared apartment.

The pleasant aroma of scented candles filled the whole room, and Jihoon let out a deep sigh. When was the last time he felt that relieved? He can’t remember, but now he feels like touching heaven and the best part, it was in the comfort of his own home.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet” you protest with a playful tone, “I just started with your shoulders”.

“I’m sorry” he apologized in a lazy tone, “but I’m serious, you're so good at it, you'd become a millionaire with this job.”

“I’m not that good, this is just a hobby,” you laughed in a low tone. “Do you want some more tea?”

“Yes, please!” Jihoon agreed cheerfully, “Is amazing, what did you make this tea with?"

“Oh, you know; chamomile, other natural stuff” leaning towards him, you let a kiss in the top of his head, snuggling your face on his hair, “and all my love for you”.

Dokyeom. Homemade pizzas.

He loves pizza and he loves you even more, that’s all he needs. In the warmth of your cozy apartment, a messy yet funny meal takes place that you both are going to remember for a long time.

“What in the world is this?” you said trying not to laugh, “looks like my heart after I watched that sad movie”.

“But it was fine!” he stammered, laughing in embarrassment, “the oven tricked us!”

Seokmin has been planning this night with the highest expectation, but the heart-shaped pizzas didn’t turn as he visualized. They smell good for sure, however something went wrong and now you have something that looks more like an attempt that a pizza itself.

“Ah, we put in so much effort” he made a small pout, “I’m so sorry, babe.”

“Oh, it’s okay! It’s our first time” you patted his back trying to comfort him, “I bet they’re delicious, let’s just eat”.

And it was indeed the best pizza you ever tried before; your praise words encouraged him as you both sat on the sofa and started eating your homemade dinner.

It didn’t turned out as expected, but your heart was so filled with joy and happiness that it didn't really matter, it is priceless and you’d never change this day for nothing in the world.

Seungkwan. Trying a new café.

Making changes is always good and Valentine’s Day is the perfect excuse to do something different. Unfortunately, you’re not the only couple who had the same idea.

“This place is full too” Seungkwan signed, running his hand through his hair in annoyance. “It’s the third one”.

“It’s okay Boo, we can do something else”.

You were sitting in the car and the atmosphere started to feel a little heavy. Maybe going for a café date on Valentine’s Day wasn’t the best idea, every place was crowded as if everyone just had the same braincel and decided to occupy every single café in town. And Seungkwan was part of that unplanned collective.

“I’m so sorry, love” he placed his hand on your shoulder, his voice was low and a little sad, “I should’ve planned this better and made a reservation.”

You remained thoughtful, an idea came to your mind and you said it with a big smile. “Hey, what about if we buy something and make our own café at home?”

“That… Actually doesn’t sound bad” he raised both eyebrows tilting his head, “What’s on your mind?”

And so, a few purchases later, you ended up drinking delicious coffee at home, accompanied with a sweet strawberry cake and a tender playlist you both made at that moment. It has the potential to become a tradition, after all, it doesn’t matter the place or the activity; every moment with Seungkwan is special for you.

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valentine-cafe · 1 day ago

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˖⁺. ﹙ enigmatic antihero mercenary x fem reader. ﹚ .𖹭 ݁

. . . pretty cunt squirting so much !! 🍒 : antihero ˖ mercenary ˖ enigma character character﹙ verse 781 alessio. ﹚

getting some good cervix fucking from your hot mercenary boyfriend, cw: cervix fucking, size difference and kink, papi usage, creampie, sugarcoated degredation, clit flicking, overstim

It's all fun and games until Alessio is ball's deep. Not only is he a big man that suffocates you with his frame. *He's got a big dick too.*

If you weren't on trembling knees with one of his strong arms wrapped round your neck - holding you up against him while the other trailed all over your quivering body - you would have stopped to consider it. Consider his huge cock plunging deep into your pink gummy walls. Consider how his angry tip knocks on your cervix in a repeated hatefuck mantra.

Oh, your boyfriend loves you. Loves how you squelch, loves how you clench, loves how you cry and bite down on his forearm while he shallows his thrusts and fucks another load into you.

"Fuck," his ragged groan sounds your ear. "Suuucchhh a loud fuckin' pussy. Missing me so much huh baby?"

A large hand spreads to swat down on your ass. Grab and squeeze at the fat as his hips hammer against the backs of your thighs. If he wasn't holding you up, surely you would have been face first in the mattress. Not that you'd mind being ploughed by your stupidly big boyfriend.

"A-Ale - Alessiioo - hah - pappiiii 's much -"

"Too much? Yeah?"

He's snatching onto your tit next. Calloused thumb rubbing into your nipple as he steers his cock with a newfound fervour. An almost deranged grin splitting his lips as he knocks into your cervix and has you crumbling. Has you drooling as your hips buck forward weakly and you splutter so pathetically.

"- e'ssi - essiiooo -!"

"Still too much baby? Still too much when I'm fucking your favourite spot? Yeah?" He punctuates every statement with another smack to your cervix. You feel him everywhere. Throbbing. Pulsing. Your eyes roll back. Your tongue pushes out.

How can you tell him to stop when he's giving you all you've ever wanted? You'll have him cream you full a third time before you so much as dream of it.

All you do is shake your head. Yelp, when he manoeuvres you onto your back and clamps your thighs around his waist. Not once does he lose momentum. Even with your gushing, squirting hole and your fucked out expression. If anything it motivates him.

"Wanna see m'pretty slut when I'm bullying her poor lil' pussy," a rough hand trails to flick and pinch your clit. Just as his thrusts shallow to that one, darling spot. Your eyes cross with him at the centre. Pussy fluttering and tits bouncing as he brings the both of you to another raw climax.

"Theerreee we go. Eyes on me. Come again. Squirt from getting your cervix fucked.”

#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: alessio 781 𖹭 ݁#monster boyfriend #teratophillia #smut #monster fucker #monster x reader #mercenary x reader #oc x reader #immortal x reader #terato #original character x reader #reader insert #monster oc #alessio 781 #asterism

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thoughtfulfiction · 3 hours ago

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Friend zone? End zone.

Author’s note: Anon requested🧡

July

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

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

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

"What are you talking about?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod, hesitant but flattered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, I'll be there."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, everything was different.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You asked." You bit back a grin.

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

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

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

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

"I want frosted tips."

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

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

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

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

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

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

August

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I um—I cried last night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He liked you. He really liked you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

September

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey,” he said, voice low.

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

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

“I know.” You shrugged. “But I did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you felt it.

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

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

October

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

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

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

Silence.

Then all hell broke loose.

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

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

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

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

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

“Absolutely not,” Tee muttered, swiping left.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he muttered, “Fuck it.”

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

The words knocked the air from your lungs.

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

“Yo, have you seen my phone charger?”

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

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

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

Joe looked like he wanted to murder his best friend.

November

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

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

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

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

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

Joe shrugged. “Seemed important.”

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

Still, nothing was said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About?"

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

You didn’t. You couldn't.

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

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

But then he pulled away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

Then, finally—too quiet— “I don’t.”

You flinched like he’d slapped you.

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

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

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

“You’re such a coward.”

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

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

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

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

And that? That pissed you off even more.

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

Joe didn’t move. He didn’t stop you.

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

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

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

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

December

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But you didn’t.

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

You were moving on. Meeting new people.

Like Cory.

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

More than Joe could say for himself.

Joe wasn’t trying to eavesdrop.

At all, really.

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

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

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

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

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

Tee nodded. “Big time.”

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

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

“You fumbled twice,” Tee corrected.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, you sealed your fate.

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

And then you saw him.

And Joe saw you with...him.

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

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

You weren’t even looking at him.

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

Joe barely managed a nod, jaw tight.

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

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

Yeah. Joe was pissed.

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

“What the hell are you doing here?”

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

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then be more specific," you bite out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joe didn’t know what to say to that.

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

January

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart clenched painfully. Damn him.

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

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

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

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

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

And against your better judgment, you stepped aside.

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

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

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

You blinked, stunned into silence.

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

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

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

You swallowed hard. “Joe…”

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

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

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

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

Joe nodded instantly. “I will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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itsshawtyfellas · 23 hours ago

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Hear me out: squid game edition

I've seen on tik tok and pinterest a lot of people saying 'hear me out' on the finest man of the entire south Korea which makes me believe this 'hear me out' has lost its meaning, so I'm gonna do a list full of my favorite underrated characters of squid game that no one talks about enough.

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N°6: That one math teacher from s1.

This man absolutely slayed his minutes of screen time and we have to admit he was smart as hell but unfortunately he was gone too soon (if he looked at me like that he would die looking a slurped caprisun)

N°5: The square masked officer

He was given 2 minutes of screen time and he served and ate. I don't know if this if just me but I hope he makes a bigger appearance in the third season because I feel like he has some potential (help me lord he's fine as hell)

N°4: Park Gyeong-Seok

Let's be real here, he did soooo good on episode 7, he literally went off and acted like he was in call of duty or something. He's honestly a great character and I got so sad they killed him because I want him to go back to his daughter (MY SHAYLA) but I also have a theory that N°11 (No-eul) was the one who went to shoot him but didn't actually kill him, this since we didn't see him die (he's so pookie I want him in my bed)

N°3: Choi Woo-Seok

My baby did nothing but serve face for the entirety of s2 (LMAO) but I honestly love him so much, he's such a cool and funny character, although i found slightly annoying how much trust he put onto captain Park but i can't blame him since Jun-ho also believes him but I hope they get to find that island in s3. (That fuckass chain of his makes him finer oof)

N°2: Deok-Su

BEFORE YOU COME AT ME LISTENNNN, OKAY? We can't lie and say he was the worst character because he WASN'T. Was he fucked in the head? Yes. Would he slay if he was alive during s2? Absolutely. This mf went INSANE during the bathroom fight and during lights out and although he wasn't the best with the brains, he definitely was one hell of a fighter. I don't think anyone in s2 would stand a chance if he was still alive (he's pretty fucking hot too I'd honestly let him destroy my insides)

N°1: Seong Gi-Hun

How tf is he the MAIN CHARACTER but also underrated??? He's quite literally one of the best characters in the entire show but I'm so disappointed at how much trust he puts on people (frontman) but that only shows how much kindness he has in heart, I mean, after watching over 600 people die, losing both his best friends (RIP MY SHAYLAS) and also losing contact with his daughter??? This man deserves the best therapist in the world. I also will NEVER forgive Netflix for cutting off his fluffy hair and for taking away his smile. (He's so pookie and this pic is making me feral I want him to look at me like that when he sees me laying naked on the table as he waits for dinner)

Anyway, this was a brief opinion on these characters and I know there's so much more I could say but I feel lazy and I can't remember half of the events of s1 but feel free to share your thoughts!! Like, repost and comment if you can I love you babes🫶🏽

#squid game #squid game x reader #gi hun x reader #jang deok su #choi woo seok #park gyeong seok #masked officer #square guard #seong gi hun

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strawberryblue-blog · 2 days ago

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PABLO GAVI fluff were he comfort the reader after their big argument please love your works 💫

Thanks💓

Our home —Pablo Gavi.

summary: request.

warnings: none. a little of angst, fight, discomfort, cute, soft, clingy.

words count: +2k.

#SEXYNOTE: Happy Valentine's Day 💌 Enjoy it, love you 🎀

The sound of your snort clashing with the overwhelming silence in the living room, interrupting the tranquility of the night. You're standing by the kitchen, hands on your hips and frowning as you stare at the pile of dirty utensils you haven't stopped noticing since you got home. Gavi, he doesn't even look at you. He's sitting on the couch, remote in hand and TV on, seemingly oblivious to your frustration.

"Really?" you ask aloud, turning to him with your arms crossed. "How many times have we talked about this?"

He looks up turning to look at you, surprised, but quickly his expression changes to a mixture of tired and defensive.

"I will do it later" he says nonchalantly as he resumes playing again.

"Yeah, like always" you mutter starting to pick things up. You shake your head as you turn on the water.

"I'll always end up doing it myself anyway" you whisper angrily.

"What are you talking about now?" he replies, setting the controller down on the table and turning to you again.

You ignore him, starting to wash the dishes in the sink. You don't answer because you know it will be in anger, you'd rather shut up again.

"Are you saying I never do?" his voice sounds closer and you can feel his presence.

Making him get up from the couch when he's playing video games is a reward for you.

"That then you don't do shit" you spit loud and clear. "You always say the same thing about the dishes, the laundry, everything you always leave lying around" you reply, pointing to the sink with an exaggerated gesture.

"That's not true" he shriek angrily. "I said I would do it later..."

"When were you going to do it, huh?" you ask interrupting him. "After I do it? Tomorrow when you finish training? When?" you shout.

Gavi frowns but you can see his features look angry. But angrier are you. You're not overreacting. These last months living together has become difficult, you fight constantly, Gavi doesn't help you enough and you understand that he's tired after training or whatever, but you also have your job and that's not why you leave everything like that.

This morning you had left with all the mess, dishes from last night, clothes on the floor next to the washing machine, garbage cans full and when you came back, everything was still the same. And Gavi had the day off today. You expected at least the simple, basic housekeeping. You didn't expect him to deep clean, just tidy up. But he'd clearly spent the day playing videogames.

"I can't handle this, you know? I work all day, I come in exhausted, and the last thing I want is to see the house a mess because you can't do your part."

"My part?" he retorts, stepping closer and facing you with open arms. "And what do you think I do all day? I'm not just sitting around doing nothing. I'm also exhausted when I get home."

"But I'm always the one who has to take care of everything," you say, feeling frustration rise from your chest to your throat. "The dishes, the laundry, the cleaning? When was the last time you even tried to pick anything up?"

He rolls his eyes and that gesture fires you up even more.

"Don't exaggerate the situation. It's not like I never do anything. I may not be as obsessive as you, but that doesn't mean I don't help," he says pointing at you.

Oh no. He didn't just call you that. He didn't just make everything worse.

"Obsessive?" you repeat, in disbelief. The word hits you like a slap in the face. "It's not obsessive, it's wanting our home to be a place where we can be comfortable, where I don't feel like I'm living on a battlefield." It comes out as an angry scream.

You can't believe it. Now you are the obsessive and exaggerated one who wants some basic order in your own home.

"It's not like that!" he replies, raising his voice. His tone is defensive, but also weary. "Just because I don't do things exactly the way you want me to, doesn't mean I'm doing everything wrong."

"It's not about doing it 'my way'!" you shout, feeling on the verge of tears. "It's about the fact that I can't handle everything by myself. I'm exhausted, and you don't seem to care."

That shushes him. Gavi turns his head in denial but you turn to continue washing through your eyes fill with tears. All that screaming, the desperation, the anger, it makes you feel bad. You've had a rough patch for a while now and you're afraid this could be the straw that breaks the camel's back. But you are so tired. You just want to finish and go to sleep. Arguments won't get you anywhere but you're exhausted from the same situation.

The atmosphere in the room is tense, charged with unspoken words and pent-up emotions. You don't want to cry because you don't want to look weak but you feel so fragile that if he says anything else, you will cry.

Finally, he sighs and takes a step towards you. You feel him coming closer but you won't move, you just want to finish.

"I'm sorry, okay?" he says, his voice softer this time. "I care a lot, more than you think."

Just then you finish rinsing and deposit everything in the dryer. You take off your gloves and dry the counter, leaving everything clean and ready.

"Then prove it" you reply, with a lump in your throat, as you turn around. "Because when I come home and see all this, I feel like you don't care about our home or the effort I make or even us."

You try to walk towards the room but he stops you, processing your words. He's still angry about the argument, you can see it in the way his brow furrows but you can't go on like this.

"If you cared, you would. I get it once or twice, Pablo. But not for months now, it's pure cohabitation, I'm not trying to force you into anything or ask you to be my maid" you spit out harshly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes. "And I won't be your fucking maid either"

You release yourself from his grip and move for your room, looking for some quiet. Your bed seems to be waiting for you the moment you open the door and you quickly strip off your clothes, dressing in your pajamas. You just want to sleep. You crawl into bed and turn your back to Gavi's side, covering yourself with your warm blanket. Tears slide down your cheeks as you think about the argument, how vulnerable you are right now. You're scared, maybe moving in with Gavi was a hasty move and you've been thinking about it for weeks.

You love him. You love everything about him but you can't stand that your relationship is turning into what you hate the most. Maybe you are pushing him a little bit but he lives here too, each of you have your obligations and responsibilities and the only way to survive is to work together.

You're not so angry about the argument, you're helpless. Lonely and scared, what if he doesn't want to be with you anymore, what if Gavi is only acting this way because you are broken? The sobs come out of your mouth and you try to cover them but it's unavoidable.

A faint noise makes you swallow a sob and when you feel the mattress sink behind you, you cover your face with the whole sheet. Gavi comes up from behind and embraces you slowly, carefully, waiting for your rejection or acceptance. You say nothing, just melt into the warmth of his arms embracing you, as you sigh calming your little fit.

"You're right" he admits, with a deep sigh. His voice sounds weak, slowly. "I've been relaxing too much, trusting you to do it because you always do. That's not right and I'm really sorry" his words make your heart shrink.

You didn't want to make him feel that way, you didn't want him to be angry, maybe things got out of place all because of your bad reaction.

"It's not true what I said, you're not exaggerating, you're not obsessive" he murmurs hurt as his hand runs down your body, caressing you. "I care about you, about our home and I care about our relationship" he whispers close to your ear, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

Your heart softens a little at his words, but you still feel the weight of everything built up in your chest. You barely nod. You know he didn't have a bad intention and maybe it was you who took it to another dimension but you really wanted Paul to understand.

"I haven't been around much these days and I understand your approach, Y/n" he whispers again.

Your nose rubs the drops of tears and you sigh searching for air. Su cálido cuerpo comienza a calentar te y solo quieres saltar a sus brazos, como siempre lo deseas.

"Forgive me, okay? Please?" he asks in his hoarse, weak voice.

You turn barely, pulling your body out of the fabrics until you see him clearly.

"It's not just about the dishes or the clothes, Pablo" you confess as tears begin to escape your eyes. "It's because I want this to be a home, our home. A place where we can both be at peace"

"I understand" he says, looking you straight in the eye. "And you're absolutely right. I don't want you to feel like you're carrying everything by yourself. I promise I'm going to get better, I really am"

His hands take your face as you turn to him fully. He takes it upon himself to wipe away your tears, one by one, as he pulls you into his warm chest. Your heart aches for everything but you feel more relieved now.

"I'm sorry for exploding like this too" you admit hurt. "I just want everything to work out, that we don't have to argue about these things. And I thought that..."

Pablo looks at you seriously, confused.

"I thought things between us were breaking up, that maybe your pulling away was my fault and I exploded" you confess as the tears come again.

His eyes hold back the tears as his fingers tighten on your face.

"I would never do anything like that, nothing changed between us, I promise. It's just me, being kind of lazy" he says trying to blame homself but you deny.

"I'm sorry, Gavi" you cry exhausted. "I didn't mean to fight with you like this, just.... I'm tired..."

Your body hurts, your mind does too. Maybe you need more sleep than a day is enough and all this anxiety, nervousness, is driving you crazy.

"You are my home, you are my whole life, I just want to be here, for the rest of my life, with you" he says in front of your eyes.

"You are mine, Pablo" you assure with a laugh.

He smiles slightly and pulls you into a warm embrace.

"Let's promise something" he says, whispering against your hair. "Let's talk before things get to this point. If something bothers you, tell me, and I'll do the same"

You nod against his chest, feeling relieved to hear those words.

"I promise" you reply, clinging to him tightly.

His arms come around you again and you feel yourself melt under his touch. Gavi is soft, gentle and sweet. And you love that.

"And I promise I'll always wash the dishes from now on" he adds, with a touch of humor in his voice that manages to get a small chuckle out of you in spite of everything.

You both stay like that, hugging, letting the tensions dissipate. You know you still have room for improvement but you also know that, as long as you are willing to work together, nothing can affect what you have.

The silence in the room lingers as you are cuddled together. He watches you from above, his fingers stroking your back, your arms, your chest. He leaves little patterns on your skin, running over every nook and cranny of your body. You smile. He smiles back. The two of you look at each other and touch again. It is inevitable.

Your body is on top of his, one of his legs is wrapped around you and your hands rest on his firm chest, caressing his pecs. You talk for a while, then kiss, then just lie there. Pablo keeps running his warm hands up and down your arms, resting occasionally on your hip as he kisses your forehead or hair, then back up your back slowly. If touch burns on your skin, but it's the kind of fire that feeds the flame in your heart.

Then you apologize again, talk, joke and kiss again, in a loop. It's warm, perfect and beautiful. You two love and understand each other, yes, you argue but it keeps you stronger than ever, just like right now.

One of his hands goes into your hair, the other resists on your lower back, massages your scalp while your fingers move on his chest. That starts to make you sleepy, you close your eyes but you don't want to stop seeing Gavi, so you open them again.

He spots you and laughs. You lift your head and his eyes are waiting for you, loving, watching you.

"You can rest, baby" he whispers, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

"See you tomorrow, Pablo" you whisper barely.

"Good night, baby" he kisses your forehead again affectionately.

You settle into his chest again, letting the sound of his heart soothe you. His other hand continues to stroke your hair, and you can feel how his caresses are slow and full of affection, as if he wants to make up for everything he has made you feel. His fingers press your skin to your waist and you feel filled with his love.

And in that moment, even though you know you still have things to work out, you feel that everything will be okay. Because you are together.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi

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reflectionsofacreator · 17 hours ago

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[takes a long drink from my Arizona iced tea] so like one of the central themes for FFXV is like, growing up, sure. You know that, I know that, whatever. Coming of age, coming into your own, taking the mantle of king, whatever you wanna call it. Cool, awesome, we love a good coming of age story!

But I find the sub theme of that one to be probably the most fascinating? By and large, all the chocobros have to deal with the fallout of being lied to by the adult figures in their lives, and it's the most prevalent with Noctis and Gladio. Don't get me wrong, there's a lot of it in Ignis and Prompto too, but the particularly insidious way that Noctis and especially Gladio were lied to sometimes gets me.

See I don't even really think it was actually all that intentional. Not really a conscious act by Regis and Clarus, or the society around them? More like... I dunno, the lies that you get told by your parents as a little kid and you grow up to realize that the world is a lot different than you thought.

That being said, Noctis was absolutely lied to by his father; both about the nature of the King of Light and the idea that he'd succeed Regis as reigning monarch. Regis did it out of love, knowing that Noctis would die young, and reasoned that Noctis should get to have a relatively normal life, but it was still a lie. Gladio, likewise, was lied to by his father and Regis, told that he would be the next monarch's Shield, that he would fulfill a role that's got a pretty set expectation in their society.

See, Gladio expects Noctis to act a certain way, to act as King, and he gets increasingly frustrated when Noctis doesn't, or can't live up to that. He's not precisely wrong to expect it either, given their roles and their statues, and knowing that they're taking the throne during a full blown war. The problem is that Noctis was never taught how to be the thing that Gladio was told Noctis was going to be? And that's what causes friction with them all the time. It's fascinating, watching it play out and realizing the underlying issues with their relationships actually have very little to do with them as people and instead because of what they were told to expect from each other.

Gladio is also his own kettle of fish that I don't think the narrative is quite self aware enough to articulate properly, or even get into. Gladio falls into the trap of toxic masculinity very often -- struggling to articulate his feelings, expressing most of his feelings as anger, picking fights rather than talking about what's going on, using his strength as both a character aspect and bonus, etc. The list goes on. There's also the fact that he's sort of portrayed as a bit of a womanizer and the masculine ideal; tall, rugged, strong, etc which plays into all of that. XV plays him very straight (and straight) with these concepts, and just sort of ... expects it to be fine? Which is at odds with how the other three bros interact and are more emotionally available towards each other, leaving Gladio as one of the weaker bros in canon.

It kind of sucks too, because like, there's so much to unpack with him? His DLC is about wanting to have the strength to protect Noctis on the surface, but really when you look at it... you could also argue that the DLC is about Gladio's fears that he'll end up as dead as his dad did (ha, try that for alliteration) and the crushing weight of failure. Gladio has every right to fear his mortality, fear the fact that he is, nominally, the first in line on the battlefield and the the last defense for Noctis. If Noctis is to die, they will go through him first, and that's! Scary! But the game doesn't really get into that, hardly at all, and it makes picking up the pieces for Gladio kind of frustrating. Out of all the bros, he's the one I have to dig the most to find any kind of depth despite being prime real estate for it.

Anyways Gladio and Noctis' dynamic is fascinating if you actually start to unpack it, especially because it's built on the lies that their fathers fed them as children (that they themselves also bought into). I'd go so far to argue that between the two pairs, Noct/Gladio is in much more of a dire need to sit down and actually hash out what they are to each other, outside of their king/shield dynamic. Noct/Iggy certainly has shades of that, but Ignis has decided that they are friends and that he will defy fate if he must, let the world burn if he must, to save Noct's life. That has some depth beyond king/retainer that they're presented as. Noct/Gladio are sort of just... falling into the king/shield dynamic because they're expected to, and it sort of hampers their relationship and their communication.

I'm gonna scramble them both like eggs, probably into an omelette. They make me Think you know

#creator's xv meta #creator plays xv #final fantasy xv #noctis lucis caelum #gladiolus amicitia

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sheerfreesia007 · 2 days ago

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Dyed Colors

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 2,779

Content warnings: Fluff, kissing

Summary: Your college is hosting a date match up event for Valentine’s Day. This year all you have to do is pick an activity that you’d like to do and you’ll be paired up with someone who wants to try the same thing. What happens when you’re paired with the irritable Jeongin?

A/N: Divider was created by @enchanthings-a, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

You had heard your friends talking about the event that the student council was hosting for Valentine’s Day. It was a date match up event where you picked an activity that you were interested in that the local businesses and clubs were holding for Valentine’s Day and you would be paired up with someone who had chosen the same thing as you did. Your friends had been very excited for some of the options as they talked about it over lunch one day and you had grown curious.

“So all we have to do is choose an activity that we’re interested in and they’ll pair us up with someone else who’s chosen that activity?” you ask curiously as you take your lunch tray over to the table with your friends.

“Yup! And they have a lot of cool activities to choose from. There’s a popular coffee tasting event that has already filled up.” one of your friends says as she sits down at the table and you laugh softly while nodding your head.

“That tracks for most of the campus, can’t function without coffee.” you say as your friends laugh while nodding their heads in agreement. You power up your laptop and pull up the email from the student council with the list of activities. Your eyes race down the list curiously before you eyes focus on two options, pottery and tie dying. You can feel your creative mind starting to run wild with the idea of picking up another hobby and you can’t help but feel excited. “Do you know what other activities have been popular? Which ones are filling up quickly?” you ask your friends and one of them starts to nod their head.

“The video gaming cafe tournament is nearly filled already. As well as the cooking class, that was just filled. But if you look at the list, all the ones that aren’t crossed out are still available, the ones in orange are almost full though.” your friend informs you as you both peer at your laptop curiously. Your eyes immediately fall to pottery and see that it’s colored orange while tie dying isn’t colored anything and isn’t crossed out. With a tilt of your head you open up a reply email to the student council and type out the tie dying event that you’re interested in and send it off. “That’s a good choice. I bet you’ll love that one.” your friend tells you and smile brightly at her. “You always loved doing crafts and I’m sure this will be no different.” she says and can’t stop the excitement rising within you for your Valentine’s date.

It’s two weeks before Valentine’s Day and you’re holed up in your dorm crocheting a large scarf and hat set for your mom’s birthday that’s coming up. She had recently told you that the weather is getting too cold for her and that she wished she had a warm comfy scarf and hat to go out in. Suddenly there’s a knock at your door and you frown softly before setting aside your project and getting up from the couch, you pause your show on the television before your feet walk you over to the door and you open it.

“Have you read your emails?” your best friend asks you as she walks into your dorm without even any preamble which makes you smile softly and fondly at her.

”No, why? What’s wrong?” You ask her and she shakes her head at you before going straight for your messenger bag. She quickly pulled out your laptop and opened up your emails before squealing loudly.

”He emailed you!” She cried out and pointed to the new email that you had in your inbox. Sitting on the couch together she handed you your laptop before bouncing in her place next to you. You open up the email that’s come in from i.2.n.8 and see that the guy’s name is Yang Jeongin and he will be joining you on your tie dye date for Valentine’s Day. He asks if you’d like to catch an Uber together to the tie dye event location and he offers to chat on the phone through text and calls for the next two weeks so that it’s not awkward to be in an Uber together.

”Aww, he’s sweet.” You coo softly and your friend smirks at you knowingly.

”You’re already down bad huh?” She asks with a knowing sparkle in her eyes and you shake your head quickly at her.

”No way, I just think he’s being sweet.” You defend yourself and she rolls her eyes at you while smiling.

”Whatever you say babe.” She teases and you shove her down onto your couch.

”Shut up.” You retort while she laughs at you before you begin typing out a response to Jeongin giving him your number and agreeing to talking together and then catching an Uber.

The day of Valentine’s came quickly and you were so excited and eager to spend it tie dying some tee shirts and tank tops that you had bought for the activity. You had even picked up some tee shirts and tank tops of Jeongin after texting and calling him throughout the two weeks leading up to today. He had also told you that he found two white throw blankets for the two of you to tie dye that he bought. You were so happy that he was just as eager as you were to do this activity together.

In fact you were surprised to find out how easy it was to talk to Jeongin. After the first couple of phone calls where the two of you were so incredibly awkward it all seemed to smooth out and he had already become someone that you considered a friend. You figured if nothing came out of this date you and Jeongin could be good friends. But secretly you hoped that something would come out of this date, Jeongin loved sending you selfies and you couldn’t deny that the man was gorgeous and definitely someone that you wanted to try a romantic relationship with. When the Uber shows up you get a notification and Jeongin calls you excitedly.

”Good morning Jagi! Are you ready for a tie dye date?” He asked excitedly over the phone and you chuckled softly at him as you grabbed your purse and the bag with the tee shirts and tank tops in it before heading out the door.

”Good morning Innie.” You greet him happily using the nickname he told he preferred to be called. “I am ready for our tie dye date. Are you?” You asked teasingly and heard his answering chuckle.

”Waiting on you pretty girl.” He teased back and you felt your heart stammer in your chest at his flirting. He had been doing that since a few days ago and you didn’t want to get your hopes up but you really hoped he meant the flirting and that it meant that he was interested in you.

When you walked down the stairs of your dorm complex to the sidewalk you spotted a compact car waiting right by the end of the sidewalk and Jeongin was standing outside of the car with a small bouquet of flowers and a shy grin on his face. Your heart stammered in your chest once more as you gazed at him before a bright happy smile slipped onto your face with ease. You skipped up to him excitedly and he chuckled at your antics before handing you the bouquet with a flourish. You gasped softly and graciously took the flowers from him beaming up at him before smelling the flowers and closing your eyes gently.

”They’re beautiful Innie. Thank you.” You told him happily and he bashfully nodded his head before guiding you into the waiting car.

”You’re welcome. But they don’t beat your own beauty.” He whispers softly to you and your eyes widen at his bold words before turning to him and smiling softly at his flirting as heat blossoms on your face.

The ride to the location doesn’t take too long but it’s further out from the campus and in the middle of sleepy little peaceful village that has nothing but farmland all around it. You’re amazed that there are enough people interested in tie dying to form a club all the way out here. But when you spot the many clothes lines in each of the yards of the homes that you passed a soft smile slipped onto your face.

”It’s so peaceful out here. Close enough to the city but far enough away that you can relax and just breathe.” You said softly and Innie nodded his head at your words.

”Very peaceful. When you’re settled in after obtaining your degree and have a job where would you like to settle?” Innie asks as he looks out the window.

”Oh probably in a town like this one. I kinda like the quiet life.” You say fondly as you turn your head to gaze at him. Innie smiles while nodding his head as he turns to you.

”I like that idea. I never thought of moving out of the city but now I can see the appeal of it. Especially if it’s only a short car ride away to the city I like the idea of not living on top others.” He agrees and you nod your head at his words.

Just then the car comes to stop outside of a community center and you both look out the window excitedly. Jeongin gets out first and helps you out of the car before grabbing the two bags that you both brought with you. When he walks with you towards the community center you both look around spotting only a couple of others who had picked tie dying as their activity. You like the idea of it being a less crowded quiet date for the two of you to get to know each other.

”Good morning everyone! Happy Valentine’s Day and welcome to our little town and our first tie dying activity. Thank you all for coming!” Says a woman who looks to be around your mom’s age as she stands with a few other older women. You smile happily at her as you stand next to Innie while listening to the woman explain a little bit about their lovely town and how to came about forming the tie dying club. It’s all very sweet to you and you unconsciously lean into Innie’s side as you continue to listen to the woman talk about their town and club. You don’t notice Innie’s soft smile as he looks down at you happily before focusing back on the woman speaking.

The group of you are then lead into the large open field behind the community center and you can see a few stations laid out for you to do your tie dye at. You and Innie pick a station that’s at the edge of the group so that the two of you have some privacy to talk freely. You take out the shirts and tank tops and divy them out between you and Innie so that you both have things to tie dye as he hands you one of the throws that he bought.

”Oh Innie! Why don’t we tie dye the throws for each other as a cute gift.” You suggest happily and he grins at you before nodding his head eagerly.

”That’s great idea Jagi!” He says happily before turning back to the rubber bands and the clothes he’s going to tie dye. The two of you watch the women demonstrate the different ways to wrap and tie up the items you want to tie dye before you both get to work on your items. Innie keeps nudging you as you try to get the items tied correctly and the two of you wind up in a playful nudging match as you both laugh at each other. The next step is to put in the dye for each section of the item and while the first step had been playful you both grow serious as you focus on your task at hand. Neither one of you notice the older women watching the two of you fondly as you work quietly.

After everything is dyed the way that you want it all you have to do is wait for a bit for the dye to settle into the fabric before rinsing it and then hanging it out to dry on the line that is already set up. The women provide a bountiful lunch for all of you and each couple has a small picnic on the large field behind the community center. You’re laid out on the grass soaking up the sun after eating your lunch as Innie sits up right next to you just gazing at the landscape of the small town.

”It’s really pretty here isn’t it?” He asks softly and you look up at him with a happy smile on your face. He looks down at you and chuckles softly before shaking his head.

”You’re prettier though.” You flirt shamelessly and watch as a blush crawls up his neck as he ducks his head with embarrassment. “I could get used to dates like these.” You say mindlessly as you shut your eyes and stretch lazily under the warm rays of the sun. Innie chuckles above you before leaning down to block out your sun. You pout at him before you eyes flutter open and are shocked at how close he was to you.

”Is that right?” He asks huskily and you blush prettily for him. He grins before dipping his head and pressing a quick peck to your nose before sitting up again.

”I think you missed.” You tell him boldly as you gaze up at him and he avoids your eyes as he shakes his head while his blush intensifies on his face.

”Alright everyone! If you’ll clean up and come back to your stations the tie dye should be set in the fabric now!” Calls out the woman who had greeted you all earlier this morning. You and Innie quickly clean up and rush back to your station to eagerly unwrap your projects.

As the two of you unwrap everything you’re slightly disappointed but notice how good Innie’s look. You then notice the slight pout on his face and you frown softly.

”What’s wrong?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

”They didn’t come out how I imagined them to. But I like yours, they came out really good.” He admitted and you chuckle softly as you nod your head in agreement to his words.

”I feel the same way. I don’t think mine came out how I wanted them to but I really like yours.” You admit and he grins widely at you.

”Wanna swap with me?” He asks hopefully and your eyes widen at his question before your head begins to nod quickly.

”Absolutely! Swap everything?” You ask and he nods his head in agreement as well. You do a little happy dance and Innie chuckles at your antics before the two of you then unwrap your throws together. You’re both in awe of each other’s throws as well and you feel your heart thud happily in your chest when you see the heart design that Innie had managed to make on the blanket. He grins at you before taking the throw that you had made him with the cool circular bubble designs.

“I really like this. It’s really cool.” He admits and you smile up at him happy that he enjoys his gift you’ve made him.

“I really like mine. It’ll look great on my couch!” You tell him and he smiles at your happiness. The two of you then rinse your items before hanging them up on the line to dry. As you’re fixing the throw to hang evenly Innie slips under the throw with a wicked grin on his face before he darts down and presses a sweet chaste kiss to your mouth surprising you. When your brain catches up you instantly melt into him and he holds you close while resting his forehead on yours.

”So next week would you like to try another activity that was on the list?” He asked softly and your eyes darted up to his curiously.

”Like a second date?” You ask him and he shyly nods his head which causes you to beam up at him. “I would love that Innie.” You tell him sweetly and he grins down at you before pecking your lips once more.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

@channiesrightasscheek

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin #jeongin #i.n. x reader #i.n.

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writingdevil · 3 days ago

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Hiiii!!! Your stp writings are so good!!!! I love, love the way you write opportunist and cold!!! I was wondering if you could maybe write about a ship between them hehe 👀

(Thank you! I always wonder if the way the way I write Oppy and Cold is okay, so I'm glad to hear that! They'd be a really interesting ship, so they'll be fun to write for! Enjoy!)

(Is this the first time I need a warning for one of these? Warning-Blood, injury, knife play I guess)

"I win!"

Opportunist laughed in victory, slamming his final card down onto the deck, before his smile fell at the bored expression Cold wore across the table.

He was resting his chin on his palm, fiddling with one card between his fingers, the rest of his deck laying on the table for Opportunist to see, clear as day.

Opportunist chuckled awkwardly, reaching out to take the deck in his hands, shrugging as he went, "Maybe you'll win next round?"

Cold rolled his eyes. "I don't think so."

Opportunist's shoulders slumped at the empty tone of Cold's voice. He had hoped that Cold would enjoy cards, but it clearly wasn't as stimulating to him as it was to Opportunist, who couldn't get enough of any card game.

"You never know," Opportunist encouraged still, "I'm sure there's a card game out there that you won't be able to get enough of."

Cold snorted at his words, flicking the card in his grasp at him. Opportunist barely blinked before he had snatched it into the deck. Cold shoved the rest of his deck towards him as he said, "You said that card games were full of strategy and bluff. I'm afraid I can't see the appeal that you and Skeptic see."

Opportunist waved him away, pretending not to be offended. "Oh come on, it's fun once you get the hang of it. I promise you'll love it."

"Love staring at shapes and numbers while we sit in awkward silence?"

Opportunist looked at him in surprise, before sighing in defeat, beginning to silent shuffle the deck, if only for something for his hands to do.

Opportunist had been determined to get Cold to enjoy playing cards with him-or, well, just to enjoy being around Opportunist.

It seemed like Cold hopped from one bird to another everyday, from causing chaos with Contrarian, to trailing after Hero or Paranoid, to even pestering Smitten and Stubborn. There just appeared to be some sort of activity that Cold enjoyed doing with each flockmate-everyone except Opportunist.

Something about it left a sour taste in his mouth, and he intended to fix that. Opportunist wasn't even sure why he cared so much. Who cares what Cold does in his spare time? What does it matter if Cold didn't give Opportunist the same time he gave others?

Opportunist told himself it wasn't a big deal, but then he saw the way Cold would rather be anywhere else right now, and his chest felt a pang of pain.

He busied himself with shuffling the cards more intensely, trying to convince himself that what Cold thought of him shouldn't matter that much. Cold was reckless and illogical most of the time, who couldn't try and see the bigger picture and possibilities if his life depended on it.

But at the same time-Opportunist couldn't help but admire Cold's unflinching attitude, how nothing seemed to weigh him down, and how he was unapologetic in his stony demeanor, despite the others frustrations with him.

For that, Opportunist was trying his hardest to get closer to Cold, but that was turning out to be a fruitless task.

He didn't tear his gaze away from the cards in his hands as he said, "If this is truly not enjoyable for you, you're welcome to leave," hoping he hid the disappointment in his voice well.

A few seconds passed, but Cold hadn't moved yet, and when Opportunist looked up, he was surprised to see Cold staring at him with narrowed eyes.

Opportunist found himself unable to look away from his steely eyes, until Cold suddenly shot to his feet, barely glancing at Opportunist as he said, "I have an idea," and then walked off.

Opportunist blinked in confusion, trying to wrap his head around what was happening, until Cold returned, one hand behind his back and an intensity in his eyes.

"I propose we add something to make the game more-interesting," Cold suggested, and although Opportunist was slightly nervous, he just showed Cold nothing but enthusiastic interest, resting his head against his palm as he said, "I'm listening."

Cold's eyes flickered with delight as he pulled his hand out-and Opportunist tried to hide his flinch at the sight of a knife in Cold's hand.

Cold swung the knife side to side as he calmly explained, "Every time we play a trick card, the other person has to toss and catch the blade." To demonstrate, Cold effortlessly tossed the knife up into the air, and caught it without looking at it once, and Opportunist found it was an effort to not stare at the action.

"What does the winner get?"

Cold's eyes shone. "To see the other bleed and keep playing."

This was dumb. This was beyond dumb.

But the thought of disappointing Cold further had him smiling and saying, "I'm in."

Cold's mouth quirked into a smile, and then he sat back down, looking more invested than ever, setting the knife down next to them, and Opportunist tried not to stare at it.

Although they all knew that they would probably nevee see the blade again, some of the others still grew antsy around any of their normal knives. Cold was actually forbidden from roaming the kitchen and cooking, or just handling knives in general, and Opportunist was just flat out not allowed in the area.

Still, he was decent with a knife, and if he stayed calmed, then he might not lose all his fingers today.

He swiftly dealt out the cards, and placed the first card down, before checking his own deck. Two sevens and an ace-not bad, but it all depends on how he plays them, and on whatever cards Cold had.

Cold placed a card down, and Opportunist shivered when it was just a normal one.

Opportunist's eyes flicked between his cards and Cold's weirdly focused gaze, and the heat of those eyes had him going, 'Fuck it,' and he placed a seven down with a sharp smile.

Cold didn't appear shocked-but when does he ever- and he didn't break eye contact with Opportunist as he took the blade, and flipped it in the air.

He caught it by the tip of the metal, the handle bouncing up and down, before he unceremoniously dropped it with a clatter.

Opportunist gave him an impressed look. "Well done."

"Not quite," Cold retorted with, and Opportunist was confused until Cold showed him his hand. It was easy to miss, but then Cold stuck his thumb out, and that was when Opportunist saw a small cut on the finger, a small bead of blood dribbling down it.

It was hardly a serious injury, but the sight of the blood sent Opportunist's mind spinning, and he wonder how much pain Cold could actually endure before he couldn't dull it down anymore.

He gave Cold a pout of fake sympathy, and mockingly said in a childish tone, "Aww, do you want me to kiss it better?"

"Keep playing," Cold just instructed, but his voice was a little too rigid and firm in that moment than normal, but Opportunist didn't comment on it.

He placed a normal card down, and it was smooth sailing for the next few minutes, but Opportunist then heard a 'plop', and he looked up, to see that the blood from Cold's thumb was dripping onto the table.

He stared at it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't stop staring at the blood. Maybe it was because he doesn't often see Cold actually bleed, despite his destructive behavior. Did he do this around others? Or was Opportunist just special right now?

The thought was driving him so mad that he jumped in surprise when Cold put a card down and announced, "Ace, change to hearts."

Opportunist's gaze snapped back to the deck, but sure enough, Cold had placed an ace down.

He chuckled, because he wasn't sure what else to do, other than send Cold a confident smile, stretching his arm out as if getting ready for a workout. Cold didn't speak-just looked at him expectedly.

Opportunist felt his face begin to hurt from how hard he was maintaining his smile, but he ignored it as he picked up the knife, staring directly at Cold, just as the other had when it had been his turn.

"Ready?" Cold asked, a hint of a tease in his voice, and it only egged him further on. He took a deep breath, looked Cold right in the eyes, and tossed the knife up into the air.

He told himself to remain calm, because a clear mind was how you survived dicey situations like this-but then his mind betrayed him, and he glanced at Cold's hand again, only to find him squeezing more blood out of his cut, and it dripped down his wrist, right in front of Opportunist, whose face suddenly flushed.

He choked on a gasp, before the knife came back down.

He smelled the metal before he felt the pain.

But when he did feel it, he hissed loudly as the knife landed right on his frozen palm, slicing it open. His body twitched and convulsed with pain, but Opportunist was determined not to panic and look weak, so he forced himself to remain seated, his hand burning as blood began coating his hand.

He tried to give Cold a big smile, but even he knew it wasn't convincing, but still, he tried. He laughed, blinking back tears and trying not to move his hand too much. "Fun! How fun this is!" he said cheerfully, choking on whimpers that threatened to come up his throat.

He gave Cold a wobbly smile, who actually looked a little surprised at him. Opportunist counted that as a win-that he managed to alter Cold's expectations of him.

Cold stared at him for a few seconds, his gaze also lingering on Opportunist's bleeding palm. He actually looked at a loss for words. The heat of his eyes on his palm was almost enough to soothe the searing pain he was in, but then Cold suddenly shot to his feet, his face unbothered but his eyes wild, attention never leaving his bloody hand as he shakily said, "I'll get bandages, then we're finished."

Horror shot through Opportunist, at the thought of Cold walking away, deeming him as nothing more than a scared little birdie who couldn't manage to be interesting for even a few minutes. Opportunist wasn't ready for Cold to discard him like that.

So he ignored the pain shooting up his arm now, and slammed a card down on the deck. "Ace," he declared, smirking up at Cold, whose feathers bristled at the look, "change to spades."

Cold held his gaze for a moment, before excitement flashed in his eyes.

He sat back down and picked up the knife.

#slay the princess #stories #my writing #writing prompt #stp voices #stp cold #stp opportunist #voice of the cold #voice of the opportunist #coldopp #some toxic yaoi just in time for valentine's day

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escapismlover · 2 days ago

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One of my main issues with veilguards is how much they told us instead of showing us, especially with the companions. I think more companion quests would have been an easy fix, besides their personal ones. Two or three quests, easy, nothing complex, to showcase their skills and activity. I will go in further detail under the cut for each companion in particular.

I also personally rlly liked the story sliders for each companion but given how short and forward their storylines were they all felt a bit anti climactic in the end, so I also think more quests relating their personal issues would ve been great and easy to do but that s a post for another time.

I will not make over the top suggestions no matter how great they might been, I like imagining these things as easy corrections so I can get more mad that they weren’t included.

I also have way more intricate quests for all of them planned in my head, let me know if anyone would like to hear any of them, maybe use the ask box for that hahaha

No hate toward the characters, just how they were treated. No hate towards the writers either, they tried their best with what they were given. Ok, let s get into it

Harding

The best scout in all of thedas that we never see actually scouting but uses the verb to scout once every 5 minutes (dramatic exaggeration). This might be the easiest one to fix, just give us a mission w Harding whenever we unlock a new area, just to follow her and reach some places. No need to implement anything new to the game, besides some dialogue that could be kept simple.

Neve

The over all personal quests she has give off the detective vibe quite well, but it would have been better for them to show us how much Neve is actually know in Dock Town. It could be 3 simple quests of simple NPCs like Maria the Weaving lady that lost her car, Marius the runaway slave that got lost in the catacombs and stuff like this. Seeing her interact with them, them coming to her, her showcasing her skills would have made it all better.

Bellara

Let her find some artifacts ffs. Arlathan is full of glades and statues, just let her go and find more, maybe one of them ending up in a boss fight with a sentinel.

Lucanis

The mage killer that we never see killing an actual mage the whole game. 3 quests, 3 venatori in Treviso, 3 boss fights like the revenants. Easy peasy. Or an antaam. He s also the assassin that we never see assassinating someone, a simplet quest at the opera putting poison in some food would ve been neat.

Davrin

The monster hunter that…you got it by now. A bear in arlathan, a bigger deepstalker queen, maybe an ogre.

Taash

They got the best treatment fr they re a dragon slayer that has two quests revolving around killing dragons. More dragons would have been better tho, one for each area, but I understand that would be the hardest thing to implement out of all these as that would require a dragon fight area to be built.

Emmrich

Given how he s a teacher and an expert on the fade his quests would probably be the hardest to implement, but not impossible. A gathering quests in the garden, plants for his next seminar, meeting a student NPC. A quest in the Crossroads, him wanting to study the place, could end in a boss fight of a haunting. A quest similar to one of Hardings scouting quests where he s called to investigate something in the necropolis, he just goes around and does it and u follow.

I know there are similar quests already for mostly all I said but those are quests for Rook, which is not an expert like Bioware says our companions are, yet rarely shows it. Maybe if I saw Harding scout at least once her argument for leading the second team would actually make some sense to me instead of basing that choice on whom I like more, same for the wards choice.

#dragon age #bioware #veilguard #datv #datv spoilers #datv critical #neve gallus #lace harding #bellara #emmrich #taash #lucanis dellamorte #davrin #my post

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starlightsuffered · 22 hours ago

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Wanna Bet

Warnings - SMUT, teasing, masturbation, lingerie, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, hand job, degrading, a bit of a sub dom dynamic (both roles for each), daddy kink, dry humping, over stimulation, unprotected sex, finger sucking, name calling.

"I was thinking the other day," Timothée began. We were cuddling lazily on the couch. I noted the cocky tone of his voice and I rolled my eyes. I was in for some teasing.

"You have never turned me down for sex," I could hear the pride and grin in his voice.

"Yeah, well, neither have you big boy," I said.

"It's different with you," he goaded. "I don't think you could resist me if you tried."

I pulled out of his arms and turned to my grinning boyfriend.

"Oh yeah," I asked.

"I'm pretty confident in my statement," he said, putting his hands behind his head.

"Wanna make a bet," I challenged.

"Sounds interesting."

"Alright, we'll see who caves from no sex first, but we can tempt each other."

Timothée leaned forward, interested in my plan.

"Okay, so let's set up the rules," he said, licking his lips.

"No touching erogenous zones as a temptation, that's cheating," I listed

"Alright. How about also we start slow and gradually ramp it up, more exciting that way," he continued.

"Sounds good," I agreed. Just the idea of this game was turning me on. "We also shouldn't get anything else involved. So like no flirting with someone to make each other jealous. It's just things we do."

"No problem," Timothée agreed. "I'll have you breaking within hours."

"We start tomorrow," I said with a roll of my eyes.

"Well, if we start tomorrow...." He trailed off.

"Take your pants off," I sighed.

***

The next morning I smirked as I went for a jog. Timothée always fucked me after a run. He loved seeing the sweat running down my body, he loved the way I gulped down water when I came back. I listened to my sex playlist to get me in the mood to be sexy for Timmy today. I got increasingly more wet as I thought of what he might do to tempt me.

I got home, waiting for Timmy to come downstairs. I gritted my teeth when I saw he was wearing my favorite pair of sweatpants, and his hair was styled perfectly. I wanted to fucking pull those curls but I controlled myself.

"Hi baby," I greeted. He smiled at me in answer. I went to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.

"I just went for a run," I explained as I gulped down the cold water. I let some drops run down my chin onto my chest. When I put the bottle down, my partners eyes were on me. His eyes were dark and full of lust. I knew he wanted to take me right there on the counter.

Timothée sat down at the kitchen island. I noticed his fingers were completely decked out. He was wearing rings on nearly every finger. He was showing them off too, tapping on the island, spreading his hand out, clenching his fist and unclenching.

I walked purposefully to the freezer. I rifled through it to find what I was looking for. I grinned when I found what I needed.

I peeled the plastic covering off the popsicle. I stood on the other side of the island and sucked on the flavored ice. Slowly rolling my tongue over and around it, right in front of him.

"Mmmm so good," I moaned. I watched his eyes twitch as I continued to lap at the frozen treat. I could tell I was getting to him.

"Would you mind practicing this script with me," he asked, tossing the paper onto the table. I stilled, he knew how much watching him work turned me on.

"Certainly," I growled. It was hard as he said his lines with passion, I was shifting in my seat. I responded with equal earnestly, trying desperately to get him to give in. I was rubbing my thighs together as he said one of the most iconic lines of the movie.

"What's wrong baby," he taunted when I didn't say the next line right away. "Something, bothering you?" He asked.

"N-no," I stuttered and cursed myself.

"I just remembered I have to go shopping," I said, pushing the script to his chest. I was glad he looked surprised.

"You're leaving?" He asked.

"Yup," I responded.

As I drove I tried to think of all the ways I could tempt him. I knew a few things, but I wanted to up the anti. I needed to win this.

I got new lingerie at the store. I also picked up some essentials, but I made sure to get some sexy bras and other things to help my mission.

When I came into the house with my bags I hoped Timmy had not been plotting. I was disappointed.

"Hi angel," he said. "Sorry, my friend asked me to watch their kid while they ran to the store."

I was breathless. Timothée with children was so sexy. He knew all my weaknesses. I bit my lip as I put the bags down.

"I can take her, so you can rest," I offered desperately. He shook his head, insisting he was the one who had pledged to watch the child. I NEEDED to take the small girl from him or I'd pounce on him as soon as their parent came back.

I watched in agony as he laughed with the small girl. He read her a story. He even played dolls with her. She commented positively on his bejeweled hands and Timothée smirked at me as she did.

In thirty minutes, the parent came back, thanking Timmy for volunteering to watch the child. I sat on the couch just watching him.

"I think that counts as using someone else to tempt me," I snapped as he shut the door.

"Nah," he said. He sat down on the couch and stretched. I couldn't help but appreciate his body as he bent this way and that to crack his back.

"That tired me out, care to take a nap with me?" He asked. I knew it was dangerous, but I was insanely riled up. I needed to touch him in some way. I nodded. We went to bed together. Timothée could fall asleep so fast. I desperately tried to find sleep while his hard on pressed against my thigh and his breath ghosted my neck.

I got out of bed early, unable to take the contact anymore. I took a shower, but Timothée was awake when I came back in. I bit my lip.

"Hello, Mon Amor," he said sweetly. He came to me. He kissed me deeply and I realized I'd never made a rule about kissing specifically. I kissed him back, hungrily. I felt his hardness against me. I desperately wanted to love on him, but I also wanted to win.

"Have I ever told you, you are the light of my life?" He asked and I was shaking with need. He truly said the nicest things. I dropped my towel instantly.

"Oops," I said, and bent down slowly to get it. When I came back up I was happy to see his pupils blown out with lust as he watched my every move.

"Can I borrow your eyeliner," he blurted.

"Why?" I asked cautiously.

"Wanna try it on," he smirked.

"I don't know," I hedged

"Why, does me wearing eyeliner bother you in some way? Does it have an effect on you?" He asked moving closer. I mentally cursed myself, I couldn't even remember when I'd told him I liked him with eyeliner.

"Not at all," I said quickly and went to go get it. I knew I was going to have to work harder now. While I was getting my eyeliner, I also sneakily grabbed my vibrator as well from my desk drawer.

"Here you are," I pressed the eyeliner into his hand forcefully. I was still naked and his eyes roamed my body once before exiting to the bathroom.

A/N- so this is where I interrupt you. I have split this into two parts. One where Timmy wins and one where you win. Please read the one you want, or both :)

Timothée wins

Before I could continue my plan to get on my lingerie, Timothée called for me from the bathroom.

"Can you wait a minute?" I asked desperately.

"Nope!"

I mumbled something about impatient actors as I made my way to the bathroom. My mouth dropped open when I saw what he'd done.

"Thought I'd try this on again," he smirked.

He was wearing his Oscar's outfit, complete with eyeliner. He must have remember we'd had some of the best sex of our lives when he'd shown me what he was going to wear. I was nearly drooling, my arousal pooling in my panties.

"Fuck it," I said and grabbed him by his jacket to me. I kissed him hard, and he was smirking into the kiss, knowing he'd won.

"Timmy, please," I begged.

"Please what?" He pretended to be none the wiser to what he was doing to me.

"Fuck me," I pleaded. He was on me in seconds, slipping off the robe I'd put back on. I was pushed up against the bathroom wall.

I sighed contentedly into the kiss as my fingers wound into his hair. I pulled at his curls like I had wanted to all day. I was trying desperately to grind myself against him, trying to get some sort of friction.

"Soooo desperate," Timothée drawled darkly. "So needy for my cock."

"Yes, so needy," I whimpered in agreement. He shook his head and tutted, but reached down to insert two fingers into me.

"Timothée," I screamed. He was laughing now, so cocky, so damn proud of himself. I couldn't bring myself to care as he began to move his fingers in and out of me.

"So wet, and I've hardly done anything. You must really like me," he taunted. I nodded eagerly as he curled his fingers.

"Ah, ah, ah," he chided. "I'd like words please, tell me how I make you feel."

"So good, so good daddy," I knew the name would rile him up. He growled low in his throat, fingers picking up their pace. He pressed his thumb to my clit and I moaned, legs shaky.

"More, tell me more," he egged me on. "Who do you belong to? Whose slut are you?"

"I'm your slut, I'm your whore, I don't want anything but you, I need your cock!"

"No," Timothée replied, as he continued to massage my clit and move his long fingers in and out of me. "Say my name."

"Timothée," I gasped as his other hand came up to play with my nipple. "I belong to Timothée."

"That's right baby," he cooed. "Couldn't resist me could you? Couldn't stop getting wet for me, all for me eh?"

"Yes, all for you, only for you," I panted. He bent down to take my nipple in his mouth. I was moaning, desperately trying to grind against his hand. His fingers hit a sweet spot inside me and I cried out as I tumbled into oblivion.

He removed his hands from me before I could react, and then he was on his knees. I gasped as his tongue came in contact with my heat. My legs were shaky but he braced his hands on my thighs.

"Tim?" I questioned, but he didn't answer. He continued to slurp and lap at me expertly.

"You're so good at that," I moaned, head leaning back against the wall.

"You're going to make me come again!"

A few more swipes of his tongue and he caused my orgasm to crash into me. My legs shook furiously as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through me. My walls clenched on nothing as he removed his tongue.

He was still smirking cockily as he wiped his mouth and stood up.

"Please," I begged.

"Please what Mon Amor?" he teased. "I can't read minds. How can I know what you want if you don't tell me."

"You know what I want," I clung to him in desperation. "Fuck me. Fucking impale me with your cock. I want you in me, so deep, please. I need you."

My words had made his jaw clench. He smashed his mouth against mine. He was grabbing handfuls of my ass. He shrugged off his sparkling, lacy jacket. Next came his pants and my mouth was watering at his hardness.

"On your knees," he demanded.

"But daddy, I want you inside-"

"Knees first," he commanded, knowing I'd do whatever he wanted. I dropped to my knees and took his long, thick length into my mouth. His hands were pulling at my hair as I worked on him.

"That's it baby girl, just like that, fuck."

I was gagging, saliva running down my chin. I moaned so that vibrations ran up his cock. I wanted him to feel good. I wanted to worship his cock like he deserved.

"That's enough," Timothée groaned, and I popped off him.

"Come here baby girl," he coaxed, and I was more than willing. I stood on quivering legs. He massaged my nipples as he rolled his hips into me. Finally, finally, he was sheathed inside me.

I cried out as he began to move. Only he could go so deep. Only he could fill me so full. As he moved he sucked on my neck and I pulled on his hair in bliss.

"Look at you," he chuckled. "So dreamy," he ran a finger over my cheekbone as I whimpered.

"I was right wasn't I, you can't live without my cock."

"You were right Timmy, can't breath without your cock. I want you in me all the time. I want your cum so bad. Will you cum for me?"

"I may," he said, and I whined. He moved his hand down to my clit.

"I think I want you to come first though," he said.

"Too much," I moaned, as overstimulation took over.

"S'not too much, you can take it baby. You're so good for me. You want to please daddy don't you?"

"Yes!" I gasped, in seconds I was experiencing my third orgasm of the day. My walls were clamping down on Timothée's cock and he moaned before spilling into me. I was rewarded by hearing him pant and moan as he fucked me through his own orgasm.

Finally, we both stilled, breathing hard and looking at one another. Timothée moved forward to kiss me gently.

"I love that you can't resist me," he murmured against my lips.

You win.

As soon as Timmy had left the room, I got out the bag from the store. Quickly, I put on the lingerie. I grabbed my vibrator and laid on the bed.

"Ohhhh," I moaned as I pressed the tip of the vibrator to my clit. Relief washed over me as I finally got some sort of pleasure.

"Timothée," I groaned out. My boy sped back into the room, eyeliner only half done. His mouth fell open at the sight of me.

"That's right Timmy, just like that, oh, oh," I was putting on a show, but it did feel good. He had licked his lips at least a dozen times. His eyes were wide as I continued to moan and squirm, my breathing fast.

"Arg," he growled running a hand through his hair. "Fuck it!"

He pounced on the bed, snatching the vibrator from my hand, turning it off, and tossing it somewhere.

"You don't need that," he snapped.

"Oh," I taunted. "And why is that?"

"Because I'm a million times better," he said.

"Prove it," I goaded.

He completely removed my lacy thong that I'd pushed to the side for my activity. He was kissing and sucking up my thighs making my breath hitch. Then he was diving in. He was feasting on me. His tongue was like magic as it swirled in me, tasting, and lapping, and sucking.

"Good boy," I praised as I put my fingers in his hair. I pushed his head down, grinding against his mouth. I moaned his name when the cord inside me snapped. I was seeing stars as my orgasm washed over me. I swear I could even feel the pleasure in my teeth.

Timothée lifted his head, my juices covering his mouth. He was staring at me so hungrily I nearly shivered.

"Come here you." I said. I pulled him to me and then flipped us so I was on top. He laid under me, eyes following my every move. I began to circulate my hips grinding down on him. He was so hard beneath me.

"You like that?" I asked and he nodded with a moan.

"So hard, you been hard all day baby?"

"Yes," he gasped with need.

"Look at you, so desperate," I chuckled. "I bet I could make you cum in your pants from just this."

His eyes were squeezed shut with pleasure, but I saw him nod ever so slightly. I grabbed his chin with my hand, making him look at me as I dry humped him.

"Suck," I ordered as I placed my fingers near his mouth. He gladly took them into his mouth, sucking on them as I ground against him.

I moved off of him, pulling my digits from his lips. He whined at the lack of contact.

"Hold still," I ordered and grabbed the eyeliner he'd left on the bedside table. I held his jaw tightly as I finished his task for him. He obediently, didn't move.

"There you go," I said, and began pulling down his sweatpants. He sighed with relief when I pulled down his boxers. He was so hard I nearly gasped as he sprung free. I began to moved my hand up and down his length as he squirmed and moaned.

"Needy huh?" I said with mock compassion.

"Yes," he panted.

"Well what do you want me to do about it?" I asked.

"Want you to fuck me. Want to be inside you. Need to feel your pussy," he begged and I chuckled.

"So what you're saying is, you can't resist me?" I challenged.

"N-never," he stuttered as he bucked up into my grasp. He was rewarded by me straddling him and sinking slowly down onto his cock.

"Oh fuck," he nearly shouted.

"I love how big you are," I complimented as I began to move. I bounced on his cock and he was a mess of moans and half formed words.

He lifted his hands to my lacy bra, feeling the peaked nipples underneath. He somehow managed to get it off so his hands could knead and massage my breasts.

"You're so worked up baby," I laughed as I rode him.

"You're so wet, so tight," he praised.

"See I knew you wouldn't make it. You're such a whore for me."

"Yes, use me," he begged. "Fuck me anytime you want, anywhere. Make me yours over and over again."

I groaned at his words and leaned down so he could take my breasts in his mouth. I continued to ride him though my thighs were burning. I lifted up off him to the tip and slammed back down. He cried out.

"I'm gonna cum, baby you're gonna make me cum," he whimpered.

"Then cum," I said. "Show me how good I make you feel."

He fucked up into me and with three more thrusts he was gone. He was whining as he emptied himself into me, moaning and mewling from his pleasure. He looked so desperate I came after him, my walls clenched him delicately.

He stilled as he came down with heavy breaths. I smirked down at him.

"You didn't even last a day."

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