#But I was SO EXCITED to finally write something!

[theladysiubhan]

#i always do kudos but never comment bc most of the time idk what to say#but the one time i did i said i hoped the writer would update soon with “!” bc I was excited and liked their writing#i got yelled at by the author who basically cursed me out for being entitled#bc apparently saying i was excited for an update was entitled and i didnt have right to DEMAND anything#promptly deleted by comment and since then ive been too afraid to comment again...#i think i might also left the comment in caps lock... so i guess that mightve seemed demanding to them? who knows#i get yelled at enough in m personal life i dont wanna get yelled at by ppl online too :'(#personal

This is a tricky one and such a common issue - how to get across the excitement over an awaited update without sounding impatient, because unfortunately writers do often get slightly entitled /demanding comments that don't respect that the person is doing this on their own time, for free.

The solution comes down to tone and wording - "holy crap i loved this work (xyz reasons). I'll be super excited to know if you plan continue it! If you do, you've got an eager subscriber! But either way, thanks so much for sharing!"

Comes off very different from

"GAH I CAN'T STAND WAITING IT'S TORTURE, WHEN IS THE NEXT UPDATE??! I LOVE YOOOU!!!"

Though the second is clearly a fan, it definitely comes off as demanding pressure. It's extra important in these cases to remember how much tone and intention is conveyed through body language and vocal tone, so we have to work a lot harder to express the intention behind words on the internet .

They say text loses something like two levels of enthusiasm from what we mean.

So like, you have to bump up your enthusiasm far above what you mean to get out across

Cool. - sounds grumpy, maybe even like they're a bit upset.

Cool! - normal tempered enthusiasm - equivalent of a thumbs up.

Cool!! 😃 - actually Engaged and interested

😲😍🤩😃WHAT! COOL!! - finally reaches enthusiasm

🤓

a feel like the new generation of fanfic readers NEED to understand that clicking on a fic (interaction) does nothing. ao3 has no algorithm. your private discord discussions of fic do not reach the authors. if you do not actively engage with writers they will stop posting. this isn’t social media this is community.

[jaeminvore]

Credit Card Baby | Z.CL — PREVIEW

“Who do I gotta fuck for barricade tickets to Sabrina Carpenter around here?”

PAIRING: Chenle x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Four days, three broke girls, two possible outcomes, and one solution. What are you willing to sacrifice in exchange for a night seeing a long-awaited Juno pose five feet away from your eyeballs? Your dignity, probably because it just so happens that one (1) Chenle Zhong could be the solution to your current girl problem. Only, you don’t really do well with charity. Nothing in life was free and everything had a price, but Chenle likes to think differently—that he's simply helping a friend out. Like the many times he did before. There should be sugar-daddy-sugar-baby joke around here somewhere.

alternatively: ‘three dumb bitches telling each other ‘exactlyyyy’.’ — ‘A sugar-daddy (kinda) au with no age-gap, but with a financial gap that no one asked for’.

CONTENT TAGS & WARNINGS: mildly suggestive themes, crack treated seriously, comedy, college au, fluff, friends to a secret third thing, sugar daddy au (kinda).

TEASER WORD COUNT: 770

FULL FIC WORD COUNT: estimated 15K (more or less)

RELEASE DATE: June 26, 2025 — 11 PM PST

TAGLIST: send an ask if you want to be notified when the full fic is posted!

NOTE: if you listen closely, you can hear me screaming because no one is more excited than me, who finally got around to writing a Chenle fic after so long of telling myself that I will. Eventually. And now we're here YAAAAAAAAAAAY!!

“Guess who might have found a solution to our ticketing problem!”

You slid onto the cushioned seats of the breakfast nook—a breakfast nook, Jesus—right across from Minjeong sipping her to-go cup of thai milk tea. She wordlessly slid one towards you. You took a generous drag of the stuff.

“Actually, it was more of Renjun’s idea—which I am effectively stealing.”

Yizhuo, who was in the middle of plating a hefty amount of pad see ew, looked like she swallowed something toe-curlingly sour. “Oh so you were with Renjun-ge.”

An easy smile curled on your lips as you lifted a shoulder to shrug, sweetly batting your eyelashes. “What can I say? The guy gives good head–” (“I did not need to know that.”) “–anyways, my idea.”

“Mine was probably better.”

“Oh yeah?” you drawled, egging Yizhuo on. “Let’s hear it then.”

“Breaking into the thrift store and stealing everything from the cash register.”

“She claimed if her parents found out about her crimes, they’d have to bail her out from prison and then restore her money privileges,” Minjeong glared at the youngest who simply whistled to Espresso as she carried on with the food. “Then I had to remind her of her reputation.”

“Good thing you did ‘cause that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve ever heard,” you said and you made sure it showed on your face as Yizhuo wilted underneath your tangible disappointment that she would even risk an integral part of her privileged life when she had used it as a counter-argument to the whole OnlyFans thing. “So we’re going with my solution to our broke-ness—Chenle Zhong.”

Yizhuo did not look pleased whatsoever. “What does Caillou have to do with Sabrina Carpenter?”

You ignored Minjeong shrieking with laughter. “Chenle’s got money,” you said as if you were talking to a toddler barely getting a grasp on words having their designated meanings. “And do you know what we need to get tickets? Money, and Chenle has a lot of it.”

“It took Renjun for you to realize that Chenle could be our solution?” Yizhuo exclaimed in disbelief, head in her hands. “Oh my God—it took Renjun telling you, then you telling us that he could be our solution? How could I’ve been so stupid?”

Her head jerked upwards, ponytail swishing along and gave you a look so sharp and abrupt that you jerked in surprise. You fixed your posture so fast that your grandmother would have been proud. For once. “You’re definitely asking Chenle.”

“Uh—first of all, why me? Don’t rich people have, like, some sort of kinship with one another? Like, hey, can I borrow ten-thousand dollars? I’ll pay you back with five-percent interest.” You were sure that wasn’t how deals between rich people were made, but whatever. “Second, why not you, money bags?”

“He’ll never say yes to me,” she said brusquely, clicking her tongue. “I kicked his ass a bunch of times in PUBG and he’s still bitter about it. It’s not my fault he sucks absolute balls. There’s like, a compilation of him complaining on stream about how I was cheating–” Yizhuo made air quotations “–on TikTok. It’s so funny. Actually, I’ll send you the link—”

You turned your gaze towards Minjeong for help, eyes widened a fraction for an added pathetic flair as the younger one focused on scrolling through the damn clock app.

“Don’t look at me. Chenle’s just cheap with everyone—actually, maybe except for you,” Minjeong pointed a long, black almond tipped nail in your direction. “the favorite.”

“You say it like it’s an insult.” You slurped your milk tea at an obnoxious volume, shrinking in your seat. “Maybe he’s just nicer to me because I’m nice to him unlike you two.”

“Is that what we’re calling it these days?” Minjeong said, eyeing you curiously.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She moved her gaze elsewhere. “Nothing.”

You squinted. “Uh-huh.”

“Anyways,” she said, pointedly keeping her gaze forward. “He started it. I asked him if I could borrow money for my Lyft and he laughed in my face.”

You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from laughing too because, yeah, the image was a little funny. “You’re exaggerating,” you said evenly.

Yizhuo made a half-wince, half-smile sorta thing with her face. “Are we though?”

“Lele’s not that much of an asshole,” you defended. “He drives me home. You could have hitched a ride with us is all I’m saying.”

On the other hand, Minjeong looked like she was heavily debating whether she should smack you upside the head, or not. “For someone smart, you’re real stupid.”

You frowned. “Hey.”

TAGLIST: @jaylaxies @hoondrop @gojosmojodojo @justalildumpling @dammit-jjk @learnthisfeeling @90s-belladonna

[hhhwnr]

ꨄ Third time’s the charm — S.R

masterlist + navigation

genre: hurt/comfort, angst (with happy ending) word count: 1,7k

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (established relationship)

warnings: none.

summary: Spencer’s always been good at showing up for the world. This time, he’s learning how to show up for you, and a third chance that you give him might be just enough.

author’s note: currently posting daily because I genuinely have nothing better to do. first time writing over 1,5k words, hehe. I am new to writing in tumblr format and in English, which isn't my first language, so please be kind. I will appreciate any input on how to improve my writing or other tips, but only in a respectful manner ! :)

You always knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Dating Spencer, that is.

You’d been friends long enough—met at a science conference three years ago, had long conversations about memory and metaphor over plastic coffee cups, and laughed over the mutual awkwardness of hotel mixers. The kind of friendship that came easy, like slipping into an old hoodie: warm, loose, no expectations. And maybe that’s why it lasted so long before either of you admitted there was something else simmering beneath the surface. Friends didn’t owe each other explanations. Friends didn’t have to arrange candlelit dinners or schedule around jet lag and crime scenes.

But love—love was more complicated. Love came with the hope of having someone there, and the quiet ache when they weren’t.

You knew what you were signing up for. You knew Spencer Reid was brilliant and kind and unlike anyone else you’d ever met. You also knew that the BAU didn’t exactly take holidays, not for anniversaries, not for birthdays, not even for Christmas. Still, you thought maybe—with enough time and care—you’d learn to live in the space between his absences.

You hadn’t seen him in three weeks. So when Spencer called to say he was back in D.C. and wanted to finally go on a proper date—just the two of you, no profile reports, no phone calls, no interruptions—you’d said yes without hesitating. You dressed up. Chose a restaurant with dim lighting and a soft jazz quartet in the corner. You smiled into your wine glass when he said you looked beautiful and teased him gently for overanalyzing the appetizer menu.

And then his phone rang. Not just a text. A call.

You saw it in his eyes before he even looked at the screen—the shift from soft to sharp. From yours to theirs.

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered, already pulling his wallet out, fumbling through apologies as he stood. “They need me to give an emergency lecture—someone dropped out, and it’s really time-sensitive—”

You nodded, of course. What else could you do? You kissed his cheek, wished him luck, and watched him walk out the door.

You didn’t cry, but you didn’t finish your meal either.

The second time, a week later, was supposed to be the redo. He made the reservation himself this time, texted you little updates throughout the day about how excited he was. It was raining when you met him, your umbrella half-broken and your coat damp from the metro. Still, he looked at you like you were a work of art. And for an hour, it really felt like you were getting your shot. You were halfway through telling him about a new project at work when his phone buzzed on the table.

You saw it again. That same shift. A case. Emergency flight.

He looked wrecked about it, eyes flicking over your face like he already knew he was letting you down. “I’m so sorry,” he said again. “I swear I didn’t know—if I don’t go—”

You stopped him before he spiraled. Smiled tightly. “It’s okay. I get it.”

But this time, you didn’t wait until the server returned. You gathered your bag, kissed him on the cheek like you were still okay, and left before the hollow feeling in your chest could settle in too deep.

Over the next week, you let the space grow.

You didn’t call as often. Left his texts on read longer than usual. When he tried to video call, you said you were busy. You didn’t bring up another date. You weren’t angry—just tired. Tired of trying to schedule time with someone whose life could be pulled away from you with one phone call. Tired of trying not to make him feel bad for something he couldn’t control. So you made it easier for both of you by stepping back.

Spencer noticed. Of course he did.

He noticed the shift in your voice over text—shorter replies, longer delays. The way you didn’t ask when he was coming back this time. The way your usual “goodnight” didn’t come with a heart emoji, or anything at all. It wasn’t dramatic, not even really pointed. But it was enough. It was enough to make him sit alone in his hotel room three nights into the case, phone resting in his palm, thumb hovering over your contact while he stared at the blinking cursor in the message box, unsure what to type. He’d rewritten the same sentence five different ways before giving up and pressing “call.”

He never liked making phone calls—never liked the way his voice could sound too eager or too nervous when it wasn’t in person. But silence? That was worse.

It rang twice before you picked up.

“Hey,” You sounded small. Tired in a way that didn’t come from sleep.

“Hi, love,” he breathed, sinking back against the headboard. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” you said. Your voice was quiet — quieter than usual. And cracked just barely at the end, like it had been recently worn thin. From crying, probably. He could tell. Spencer could always tell.

Still, he didn’t ask. Instead, he said, “I saw something today. In the bookstore near the precinct.”

You didn’t respond right away, but he waited. Eventually, your voice came, softer now. “What did you see?”

“They had a copy of The Little Prince. Original French edition.” His voice warmed a little. “It was worn, kind of falling apart. It reminded me of the copy on your shelf.”

That made you smile, just barely. He heard it. Or maybe imagined it. Either way, he kept going.

“I thought about buying it for you. But I wasn’t sure if it’d survive the flight.”

You didn’t answer for a second. Then, softly: “It’s the thought that counts.”

And there it was again — that sadness, thick between the syllables. He could feel it, even through the phone. The weight of all the things you weren’t saying. The heaviness in your throat that didn’t need a name. But he didn’t push. That wasn’t what you needed right now. You didn’t want to talk about why you hadn’t reached out, or how this second failed date in a row had taken the wind out of your hope.

So he told you about a bakery next to the station that made bread shaped like hedgehogs. About the cab driver who insisted on giving him a playlist of 80s jazz fusion. About how the team was tired, but safe, and how JJ had threatened to confiscate his sixth cup of coffee.

He talked gently, letting his voice fill the silence so you didn’t have to.

You didn’t say much. Just murmured in agreement here and there. But Spencer knew you were listening. And you knew that he was choosing every word with care — not to avoid the topic, but to love you without asking anything in return.

Eventually, you said, “I missed your voice.”

Spencer smiled into the receiver. “I missed yours too. A lot.”

Another pause. One of those full ones.

“I think I just need a little time,” you said finally. “Not away. Just… quiet.”

“I get it,” he said. And he did. He always did.

You both fell silent again. Not the heavy kind — this one was soft. Laced with understanding.

Before you hung up, he said, “That book in the window… I’ll see if I can get it shipped. I think it’d be nice on your shelf.”

And you whispered, “Thank you,” like it meant more than he’d ever know.

He didn’t need you to say more. He already knew.

When you turned the key in the lock and tiredly kicked the door of your apartment open, you didn’t expect him to come back early. You didn’t expect to walk into your apartment and find the lights dimmed low, the smell of your favorite takeout wafting from the coffee table, and Spencer sitting on your couch surrounded by a small army of snacks, two soft blankets, and three carefully stacked DVD options: The Princess Bride, Arrival, and Dead Poets Society.

When he heard your keys jingle, he rushed from the couch to wrap his arms around you tightly — warm, steady, and there.

“Surprise,” he whispered into your ear, his voice soft enough to make your knees tremble a little. He held you for a second longer than necessary, like he was making sure you wouldn’t vanish.

You blinked, caught between a breathless laugh and a lump in your throat. “What… is all this?”

Spencer pulled back only enough to look at you, hands still resting gently on your arms. “I figured if restaurants are cursed, maybe the third time’s the charm.” He smiled, a little sheepishly. “I wanted to make it up to you. I know I haven’t been here… really been here, and I hate that. I hate letting you down.”

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come. Your chest ached with too many emotions trying to surface at once. He reached behind the couch and retrieved a small paper bag. Inside were two of your favorite chocolate bars and a tiny potted plant — slightly crooked, clearly picked out with care. A label stuck out from the soil, handwritten and slanted “Date Night Survivor #3.”

Your throat clenched.

“I know it’s not exactly candlelight and violins,” he added, voice lower now. “But it’s what I’ve got. And I did it because… you deserve someone who shows up. And I want to be that person. Even if I have to keep trying until I get it right.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks before you could stop them — quiet, unannounced, like your body had decided it was safe now to finally let go. Spencer noticed. Of course he did. His eyes flicked briefly to the glint of moisture on your skin, but he didn’t say a word. He just reached for your hand and pulled you in again, gently, resting his forehead against yours.

“Come sit,” he whispered, like you were something precious, breakable, and not already breaking. “Food’s still warm.”

And just like that, the ache inside you softened. It didn’t vanish, but it eased. Because he was here. Because he tried. Because this — all of this — meant something.

It felt like breathing again. Like maybe love wasn’t about perfect plans or unbroken promises—but about choosing each other, over and over again, even when the world gets in the way.

Thank you for reading ♥︎

[hannieboyd]

ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ & ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ.

pairings: tutor!jisung x fem!reader | collage au

contains: +18, unprotected sex (be safe!!), Sub!jisung, slight mommy kink (used once), dom!reader like wow WE NEED MORE DOM READERS, dry humping, strangers to lovers(?) , real nerdy jisung with a big N, perverted on both sides lowkey (mostly Han), college sex

word count: 3,329

extras: first attempt of a full english fic, I procrastinated and crammed it into one night aswell lol.. please excuse any mistakes!

Tutor!jisung who’d never go out of his way to talk to girls, hell, he barely even left his dorm. but when he saw you enter the class, rolled up sleeves, nearly see through top and a short uniform skirt he wasn’t sure where to look. it was even worse when he saw how your thighs slowly press down against the chair as you sat down, wishing it was him instead. His eyes trailed you down as you sat in front of him, whether it was just writing your name down or checking your phone to see if your boyfriend texted you, he was watching. He already had a hard time paying attention in this class, and now it became impossible with you there.

Even when the teacher called on him he stared at you.

He’d actually known of you for a while. You guys even went to high school together but you knew his friends more than you knew of him. In all honesty you thought he hated women the way you never saw him with them. He was always so quiet, pushing his glasses up to see better, usually on his phone even if he was with his friends, he was kind of..a dork. In a cute way though. Sure he might’ve been an anime nerd…and a gaming nerd..and well, a nerd. He was actually really attractive. Many people tend to see through that though because of his shy nature which was pretty unfortunate. Despite that, you found him pretty Intriguing.

So when you saw him in your class in the beginning of the semester you were pretty excited to see a familiar face. However it was different, it had only been a couple months and something about him had changed. It seemed he grew into his features overtime and surprisingly looked pretty attractive, But you had a boyfriend, Not to mention he seemed so infatuated with his studies and his own self it was dumb to get involved with him at all.

The weeks seemed to pass by fast.

Slowly but surely he found himself growing a crush on you—just alittle one though. Yeah he only started showing up to see you, but the class was hard to get through so a little pick me up was needed regardless. Eventually he even started to wonder how you were, what you did before coming and what you were going to do after the class was done. It was confusing on why. He’s had crushes in the past, yeah, but for some reason it’s like somethings drawing him to you. He was so fixated on you he even knew that during the time you’d been in the class, you have actually had quite a hard time. When you had gotten your first exam back last week with a 20/60 and a big red circle written on it he went home later and fisted himself to the thought of you on your knees, blouse open ever so slightly but still enough to show a bit of your pink bra peaking out, sucking his dick, while thanking him for tutoring you over his moans. So when Professor Lee suggested him tutor you he was quick to agree.

And when you came up to him smiling, holding your phone out to him to put his number into while also thanking him for agreeing to tutor you he couldn’t move. not a muscle. It was until you asked if he was okay he snapped back into reality.

“oh, sorry.. i’m okay. and your welcome..” he said quietly while holding eye contact with the floor.

you chuckled at his nervousness

“I’ll see you later then, jisung!” you said while waving goodbye. “yeah..later.”

It had been a couple days since your guys last encounter and since then Han had checked his phone about 5 times per minute. It was until he finally got a text he let out a sigh. not a bad sigh, but it wasn’t necessarily a good one either. “Hey, i know it’s been a couple days but I’m available around 6 if that works for you 🙂” The text was simple, but Han was unsure how to respond. He’s never texted a girl before, other than his mom and sister, he was basically a shut in. women repellent if you will.

After a quick exchange with his friends he decided to go he decided on a casual response that said, “sure. that works fine for me”

“cool! see you then jisung”

He nearly threw his phone across the room. he probably would of if he didn’t have expensive figures all over it. He eventually calmed himself down and decided to tidy up around the dorm. after all, sharing with 2 other men was, to put this bluntly, fucking disgusting. To go boxes everywhere, dirty clothes, and it didn’t help that Jeongin and Felix liked to bring their one night stands there because now he was stuck picking up condoms with rubber gloves on.

when he finished 6pm had already rolled around so now all he waited to do was wait, so he did. He fidgeted with his fingers as he did so nervously looking around the room. Was the tv too dusty? the window too dirty? Maybe the looked disorganized.. would you even talk to him? All this thought came to an end when he heard the doorbell ring. He walked towards the door and opened it for you.

And there you were.

Standing at his doorstep Smiling innocently as you thanked him for agreeing to tutor you. It was just as he imagined. You wearing your school uniform, with that short skirt and a hint of pink lace showing through your shirt. “Thank you so much, i hope it wasn’t any trouble..” For a second he couldn’t move. You were here, in front of him, thanking him even. Snapping out of it he shuffled himself aside, letting you in. “ah.. it’s no problem..”

his eyes trailed over you.

You stepped inside, eyes scanning the small place. Surprisingly, It seemed pretty clean for a dorm shared by 4 boys. “uh—this way,” he mumbled before leading you down the short hallway to his room. Walking behind him you saw a peak of his room. Figures from multiple shows, games, and movies appeared, aswell as what seemed to be a poster from who knows where. “sorry, it’s kind of a mess.” He said while leading you inside the room, knowing it really wasn’t. He lowered himself onto a cushion sitting on the floor next to a table. He had already set the materials on the table for you, incase you might have forgotten something, he didn’t want you to leave. After briefly scanning the room you joined him on the pillow next to him.

“So, what are you struggling with?”

“Basically everything.” you said trying to bring some humor into the room. “ah.. i see..” he chuckled weakly, lowering his head to the table. “well calculus can be hard for some people, especially since the class isn’t exactly.. exciting.”

you nodded in agreement, “I know, right?” he looked up at you, eyes flicking up and then quickly away again. “w-well let’s just start with the basics then, is that alright?”

You hummed in approval, grabbing your notebook from your bag as he adjusted his posture to look more put together than he felt.

still, could see it all over him. How his face flushed and avoided contact from yours. How his pen seemed to stay touched even when he wasn’t using it. He’d clearly never had anyone else here before, and it was cute.

He cleared his voice— “Okay, so derivatives..”Youd been at the same thing for around 40 minutes and you checked out about 20 minutes ago. Math was never your forte to be fair. And when your tutor clearly cant keep his eyes off from everywhere but your face it was harder. “So what are those?” you blanked out. “Uhh.. equations?..” He blinked like his brain had been frozen.

“wait, seriously?” he asked with a mix of confusion and disbelief in his voice (maybe a little judgement too..) “We’ve been on this subject for like 40 minutes now, y/n” tone slightly raising

“Well it’s not exactly easy to pay attention when my tutor cant even look me in the eyes to teach me-“ you said teasing, but bit back on the last part before it came out to sharp. looking at jisung expecting a laugh or a sarcastic response, Instead his face went pale. You meant it as a joke, but it seemed he didn’t get the jist of it. “W-what” stammering on his words, finally locking eyes for more than a second. “i don’t-” you cut him off with a laugh “lighten up jisung it was only a joke”

He let out a breath, somewhere between relief and panic. As you leaned back on your hands, stretching just enough for your shirt to ride up slightly. You caught him looking.

“Besides,” You added, voice going softer with each word you spoke “you wouldn’t want me here all night?”

Another joke.

He was still in shock, but his gaze dropped—too quick to be casual, too obvious to ignore. You looked back at him with a smug look, and then just like that, flustered, he subtly shifted. bringing his hand over his lap, he tried to play it off.

He cleared his throat. “Not sure what you mean..”

You teased, pushing him a bit harder. “Sure you don’t.” He glared at you. “We should get back to the session.” You groaned. “How if I cant even figure out what a dergabagaba is.” leaning into your hand stubbornly, “A derivative. And maybe we could.. play a game?” you laughed. “A math game, seriously, how fun for us!”

“Don’t laugh, it was just a suggestion..” he looked away in embarrassment. So much for putting ideas out there I guess. “Fine.” you folded, “And if it doesn’t work?” “I fear you’ll have to stay here all night till i make you understand.” you let out a surprised laugh, “Guess who grew a pair”

“I didn’t mean it like that” he rolled his eyes, hand still covering his crotch.

You both decided to play some sort of Guessing game—He’d asked, you’d answered. that was the whole point of it. After about 15 questions (10 of which you actually got right) you started to really like it. For once, you weren’t just staring blankly at a worksheet before giving up and deciding to let it rot in your backpack. Things were clicking, you found yourself actually comprehending what he was teaching you (and liking it?).

He pushed his middle finger up against the bridge of his glasses. sweat trailed down his forehead as doing so. you couldn’t help but smirk.

It had gotten warmer in the room without you realizing, suddenly you could feel the heat on the back of your neck, the air feeling heavier, thicker, however it started to seem to just be from the temperature.

you both kept going with the game, determined to get the last answer right.

“Alright, last one,” He said while adjusting his collar out of warmth, “whats the derivative of 5(x) = 5x³?”

you paused for a moment, then smiled confidently. “That’s 15x².” He blinked, pleasantly surprised. “Correct.” You grinned, feeling a rush of pride. “See? i’m totally not hopeless.” He gave you a smile, clearly impressed. You leaned back, adjusting your collar and noticing how warm it had gotten in the room.

“wow, its like burning in here” fidgeting with your tie, contemplating whether or not to take it off.

“yeah, i guess so, huh.” you both looked around the room. Finally finishing the math game, both unsure what to do now, it fell silent. Seeing as you two warmed up to each other for a bit during then, you stuck a conversation.

“Hey how about we switch it up, truth or dare?” He blinked surprised, but nodded slowly. “Okay..”

you smiled softly, “Okay, truth or dare?” He gave some time to think about it before answering. “Truth..” You leaned in just a little, eyes warm but playful. You knew he was a little shy, but how could you not have a little fun with him, after all its 7pm on a Friday night and your boyfriend didn’t seem to have problems teasing around either other girls either. you let loose. “Have you ever kissed a girl before?” his cheeks flushed with warmth. “No…”

He looked up at you carefully, then asked quietly. “Uh, Truth or dare?” You nodded smiling, “Truth” he rubbed his arm to call him down. He wanted to match your energy, he really did, he was just unsure on how. He swallowed nervously before asking hoping the question wouldn’t chase you away. “What…. whats something you like about me?”

You smiled wider. “Hmm.. your nervousness. It’s kinda cute.”

he laughed softly, easing the tension a bit. “Alright, truth or dare?” He hesitated. “Dare.” You grinned, tilting your head a bit. “I dare you to kiss me on the cheek.” He stiffened once again. “Now?-”

“Well, unless you’re scared.” You shifted towards him. “So, what’ll it be?” He was stuck. He’d never imagine this. not in his wildest dreams would he had thought he’d be here with you clearly pulling yourself onto him. He just stared while the tent in his pants continued to grow, and his mind filled with crazy fantasies. Eventually he pulled your hair behind your ears and leaned in slowly, lips barely brushing your cheek, and over much too quickly. You felt the heat crawl up to your neck, yet you weren’t satisfied. Greediness had taken over and you needed to see him shut down under your touch, completely gone.

He pulled back a little, eyes glistening but nervous, then asked quietly, “Truth or dare?” Caught up in the heat of the moment you grinned. “Dare.” While holding eye contact with him, clearly wanting more out of him.

He felt conflicted. He didn’t know whether to ask you a simple question or not. Either way he knew you were gonna test him until he gave out. But it wasn’t fair—why did you get to say all those things while he basically remained a hermit crab stuck in his shell, unable to say anything outside his usual vocabulary?

starting to grow tension, he finally asked, voice higher than normal, “Okay… kiss me.” you were taken by surprised, your brows lifting slightly as your gaze dropped to his lips. Did he really say that?

A smug smile tugged at your mouth. “But i did so good during the game,” you said, voice dropping playfully, almost like a pout. “shouldn’t i get one from you?”

His face nearly turned the color of the apple on his nightstand, clearly not expecting you to flip that onto him. “I-I mean, you’ve been testing me all night..” he mumbled, barely able to look at you. “Messing with me..” You tilted your head and scooted closer to him, your thigh brushing his. “Mhm. But I think I earned it.” Your hand slid gently onto his leg, fingers barely moving, thumb brushing his inner thigh just enough to make his whole body tense up. “Don’t you?” His breath hitched. He looked down at you, eyes catching the slight pout in your lips along with the soft curve of your expression. Just enough to make his mind fog up.

“..Fine.” he breathed, voice barely holding itself together. But he didn’t move—not right away. The word hung between you guys, unsure of if he even meant to say it. Until he turned over slightly, grabbing the back of ur head. You gasped into the kiss, startled by his sudden movement. He sucked at your lips as if he wanted to inhale you altogether, he was desperate, like he’d been holding this in for years. and honestly, maybe he had. You matched him his energy, laying your arms onto his shoulder as you snuck your tongue into his mouth, making his breath stutter, his body jult, and a soft, choked up whimper escaped him. “f-fuck..” his hips started to roll against yours,

you couldn’t take it.

The way he fell apart under your touch, nearly crumbling like stone under your lips, you needed more. You needed to see him beg under you, pleading for you, crying that you’ll be a good boy for him if he let you do what you wanted to him. anything.

Then your hand drifted lower, fingers brushing against the bulge in his jeans in circular motion. This time, he didn’t flinch away,

Didn’t stop you,

Didn’t even breathe.

Your palm pressed down, grazing the length of him through the sweats, and you felt his whole body tense up. He pulled back from the kiss, panting against your mouth, eyes wide and glassy.

“You’re such a-” he started, but didn’t get the chance to finish.

Because your hand began fisting him through his pants, dragging the pressure along the shape of him until his hips twitched up into your palm. A low moan spilled from his throat, he was ashamed of how easy he fell for you.

His hands gripped your hips, fingers tightening like he needed something to hold onto before he lost it completely. And then he pulled you onto his lap, fast and a little clumsy, like if he didn’t do it now, he would’ve gone crazy

You didn’t fight it. You just sank into him, thighs straddling his, the heat between you unbearable now. The second you ground your hips into his, he gasped. “s-shit”

You rolled your hips down against him, with just enough pressure to make him jolt beneath you. His head fell back against the bed behind him, mouth parted, eyes shut and biting his bottom lip.

“F-fuck,” he breathed, barely audible.

Your hands were planted on his chest, steadying yourself as you moved faster. You could feel how hard he was. straining against the fabric, twitching every time you rolled your hips just right. His hands had slipped under your shirt now, trembling slightly, but too caught up in the moment to stop him. To stop anything. Your lips made its way to his ear. “You like that, ji?” He let out a broken moan. “Y-yeah—making me feel so good mo...-” he stopped before he could finish that sentence. his face heated up. He tried to cover it up with added groans but you knew what he wanted to say, and who were you to deny him that? so you inched closer to his face “its okay, let it out ji.”

His eyes rolled at the words. “Fuck.. y-yes mommy..”

You rocked your hips again. He bucked up into you, completely helpless with his hands gripping your waist like you were gonna run away. His breath hitched, eyes half open and glassy like he was seconds from breaking apart right under you. you pushed his limit.

“w-wait, I—”

But you didn’t. You leaned in, lips brushing against his again,

“Let it out, Ji.”

That did it.

His whole body tensed—fingers gripping to your hips so hard you were positive it would leave a mark. He gasped, choked on a moan, and stilled underneath you, eyes rolling back just the slightest bit.

“shit..—” he stuttered, hips bucking once, twice before falling still again. his face flushed deep pink as you felt the warmth spread between you. You watched him come undone in front of you. His lips trembled, fingers twitching like he didn’t know where to put them. Like he couldn’t believe what just happened, moaning your name like it was a spell. A soft laugh escaped your lips as you brushed some hair out of his face. “Already?”

He looked done, completely out of it. attempting to blink himself back into existence. “Im sorry.. I didn’t mean to—”

You kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I was just joking, ji”.

AN: Hii, thank you so much for reading my first fic on this account! I apologize it’s so disorganized, english isn’t my first language so there is probably many mistakes. Also had mad writers block during this, haha. reqs are open 24/7:)

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #58 - A Proposition]

“When you scratch Jungkook’s back for sleep.”

Genre: married life!AU, slice of life!AU, Fluff!!!

Warnings: Kookoo being the cutest bean to have ever beaned, he shadowboxes her hand and is cute with it, kissies and snugglies <3, he asks for back scratches <3, this is so cute and cozy

Wordcount: 1.5k

a/n: i just really love writing domestic fluff <3 especially with ogc!koo because he is actually THE CUTEST husband ever <3 have fun besties 🧡

The house is squeaky clean. The room is aired out and the sheets are as fresh as they can get. To top it all off, you shaved your legs and moisturised and washed your hair.

You have reached peak, enjoying it under the sheets with a good book on your phone. You love being clean.

Jungkook, your sweet husband and love of your life, leaves the en-suite.

“I just washed my hair, shaved and moisturised. I feel like a newborn”, he says, strutting to the closet for a fresh pair of loose boxers. He likes sleeping in them.

“I get you. Me too”, you say without looking up from the book. It is a really good book.

Newly dressed, Jungkook gets on the bed. He rolls over until he is by your side, making a sound for it as if he was in an action movie.

You smile to yourself and reach over to pet his head.

“Huah, huh, hwah!” he exclaims, boxing your open palm as quickly as he can with as little impact as possible. It makes the funniest slapping sound and doesn’t hurt in the slightest. You snicker in amusement.

“I’m just kidding. I love you”, he says and kisses your palm repeatedly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t serious. Heh. I love you.”

You finally look at him. He is too adorable not to. You want to be annoying back. You close your fingers on his lips so they are trapped in a pout, then squeeze.

“Meep”, you act as if you were using them to sound a horn, cackling loudly when Jungkook lifts his pretty eyes to glare.

You touch his chin and lean down to peck his lips. He retorts it all too eagerly.

“You’re adorable.”

He grins cutely, giving you a little snicker.

“Should we do something horny?” he asks.

“Why do you always ask that right after we changed the sheets? Can’t we enjoy fresh sheets for one night?” you ask, laughing.

“Because I get cozy horny when everything is fresh. I was just asking, you never know”, he insists very innocently, earning himself another smooch.

“Whatever, doofus. Maybe another time if that’s okay with you?”

“Yes, that’s okay”, he says and gets a kiss for it.

After the kiss, you return to the book while Jungkook looks at you. Yes, he looks at you. This may sound boring, but it is the most exciting thing he could do. He wasn’t truly serious about his previous question – a whipped man had to do what a whipped man had to do. Maybe you would have said yes and he could have been even closer to you, but he doesn’t mind that you said no. He loves looking at you.

“You’re so pretty.”

“Thank you, pook. You’re pretty too.”

He lies down on his stomach and props his arms up on his elbows so he can rest his chin on his palms.

“I like your hair and your skin and your face. And I like your body and how you’re so pretty.”

“I like this about you too, baby.”

He kicks his feet giddily and giggles.

“Baby, you’re so beautiful.”

You smile to yourself, petting his hair. He leans into the touch, closing his eyes. Once you pull back, he continues to gaze at you. He gets comfortable by laying his head on your lap.

“Hey”, you say, giving him attention.

“Hey”, he smiles.

You retort it and take the phone into one hand so you can use the other to play with his hair and ear piercings.

“This is nice”, he lets you know, relaxing.

It becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to keep looking at you. Your loving touch is like a sleeping spell to him. The strongest and most wonderful sleeping spell ever. At one point he even has to break the silence to slurp.

You look at him.

“Are you drooling on me?”

“No?”

You glance at the wet spot he left on your nightgown and which he currently tries to wipe away.

“What’s that then?”

“Nothing. Listen. It’s not my fault that I got sleepy. You played with my hair.”

You laugh fondly, looking back into the book.

“You don’t have to stay up for my sake.”

“If I fall asleep, you’ll stop petting me.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

He nuzzles you, ending it with a kiss. Afterwards, he rests his head on your lap again, tracing your stomach mindlessly.

“I have a proposition for you.”

“This is either gonna be serious or silly.” You put your phone aside for now. “I’m listening.”

“I will give you a very long full body massage tomorrow if you give me back scratches right now.”

“Interesting proposition. What if I have to work late tomorrow? It’s gonna be Friday after all.”

“Then, I’ll do it Saturday. You’ll get it. Including a foot massage.”

“Wow, high stakes indeed. But only if I give you scratches right now?”

“Yes. Then I owe you a debt.”

You laugh softly. You are so in love with him and his little goofball jokes.

“Alright, deal. Get comfy.”

“Hell yeah, this rocks”, he says under his breath and rolls onto his stomach. He shimmies his hips to get them comfortable, then gives you a look from the corner of his eye.

“Like this?” you ask him, crawling to him.

He nods his head. His cheek is nuzzled into the pillow, he has his arms bent and hidden halfway underneath it.

You fix the blanket so it covers his legs and yours, then sit down on the back of his thighs.

“So.” You slam your hands on his butt because butt slaps are your shared love language at this point. “How do you wanna do this?”

“I want it on my back and my sides and my arms and also my neck. And when you do my hair, can you do it with your entire hands? Run them through it, you know?”

“You really thought about it, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He smiles. “I love your scratches.”

“Alright, I’ll do it like that”, you say and begin.

He shivers within the first touch, skin covered in goosebumps. He closes his eyes, sighing in happiness.

“I just got the shivers. It’s so nice.”

“It is” you agree, falling into the moment of relaxation with him.

You aren’t on social media a lot because you actually have a life and don’t have time for it. But on the rare occasions you are, you sometimes see “relationship humour” posts about unhappy girlfriends who complain about having to scratch their boyfriend’s back. You don’t get those women.

You could pet Jungkook for hours. It is so nice for you. You love him so much – so incredibly much – and when you can pamper him, it feels as if you are able to cover him in your love. Each inch of him is so precious to you and knowing that you can adore them fulfills you.

Perhaps you are just unnaturally obsessed with him, but you genuinely could pet and scratch him for hours.

He relaxes and breathes deeply when you scratch his back. When you tickle his sides lightly, he shivers and melts deeper into the sheets. His arms instantly are covered in goosebumps when you run your nails over them. And when you play with his hair, scratching his scalp at the same time, he makes little sounds of relaxation.

It is awesome. Petting him is awesome.

“It’s so nice”, he whispers, sounding happy. Knowing that this brings him happiness is another reason why you love petting him.

You run your fingers to his back and include your nails. He likes it when you stroke them up and down his entire back and when you include his arms on your way up and his sides on your way down.

You love touching him. Of course it can be understood in a sexy manner as well, you are obsessed with him when it comes to that. But right now, this isn’t sexual. This is intimate and connecting. You love touching him because it connects you to him. Feeling is such a constant sense. The skin feels clothes, temperature, air, movements. You constantly feel and yet when you get to pamper Jungkook, you are finally aware of this sense.

His skin is so soft and his hair is even softer. You play with his baby hair at the nape of his neck, making him shudder.

He peels his eyes open, murmuring something you can’t make out. He looks very disoriented and sleepy.

“Did I wake you?”

“Hm.”

“Sorry, just relax”, you whisper and bury your hands in his hair to play with it.

He sighs and closes his eyes.

“I dreamed of you”, he is dragging his words sleepily.

“You did?”

“You called me handsome and you were so pretty.”

“You are, baby. You’re so handsome.”

“___, you can’t ever get hurt”, he whispers before his face relaxes completely.

His right arm twitches into a different position. This must have been his last desperate attempt to stay awake. You would recognise this arm twitch everywhere. It only happens when he falls asleep. 

“Sleep tight, my sweetheart” you whisper and kiss his cheek. You straighten up to continue your scratches.

You promised him that you would continue. Besides, it is so healing for you that you don’t want to stop anyway.

[modanisgf]

— KISS ME , LARA RAJ

“SO, KISS ME.”

✎ SYNOPSIS — you and lara going on your first date.

✎ PAIRING(S) — lara raj x fem!reader

✎ GENRE(S) — sort of in the 'talking stage', first date, wlw, idol!reader x idol!lara

✎ WARNING(S) — no important warnings but, my first time writing a fic in MONTHS. no one say anythign i literally started this like two days before posting #rushed

request from this ask!

lara was so scared. she wasn’t exactly one to have good first dates, and now she was getting ready to go on one with the prettiest girl she’s ever met. all of her members were surrounding her as she got ready, fueling her stress even more. questions from them were being shot at her every second.

“what does y/n like?”

“are you sure this is a good idea?”

“what dress are you wearing?”

lara groaned putting her head in her hands, causing her members chatter to fade out.

“lara is everything okay?” yoonchae asks.

“no, i’m so nervous. what if it goes bad?” lara mumbles.

“i promise it’ll be okay lara, y/n is a nice girl. anything that happens she’ll be okay with.” daniela says, smiling at lara.

the rest of the members agree, making lara relax a bit more. she was going to enjoy this date, and hopefully all of your future ones.

lara had finally left the house, saying goodbye to all her members before standing on their porch. she was waiting for you to pick her up, her nerves hitting her once again.

a small smile appeared on lara’s face at the sight of your car, it growing bigger as she saw you get out.

“lara!” you call out to the girl, running up to her to give her a hug.

the two of you embraced as soon as you were close enough, your hands holding onto lara’s waist tightly as if she was going to disappear. lara laughed softly at this, returning the same touch to you.

“i missed you so much.” you whisper, just loud enough for the girl in your arms to hear.

“i missed you too.” lara replies, smiling.

you soon let lara go, a huge smile on your face.

“i can’t believe this is our first date, i wish we weren’t both so busy.” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

lara nods, it was hard for both of you to adjust to your busy schedules while getting to know each other. truthfully, the two of you were performers. your schedules clashed so much that even with you two exploring a connection for months, this was your first real date ever. sure you had hung out before but you never went out together, which is why lara is so anxious. she needs this date to go perfect, who ever wants to start off on a bad foot?

eventually the two of you get in your car and drive to the destination of your date, it was a surprise for lara so she was excited. once you reached the parking lot, lara gasped. you were both at a carnival, one of lara’s favorite first date ideas. (you knew that she loved carnivals, since she talked to you about them for a good hour once). you smiled, stepping out of the car. you made your way to lara’s door, making sure to open it for her and take her hand in yours.

“are you excited?” you ask.

you giggled at lara’s demeanor, the girl was overjoyed.

“yes, thank you so much y/n.” lara says, giving you a hug.

“y’knowww, i should get a kiss for this.” you say teasingly, “since it’s one of your favorite date ideas.”

lara laughed a bit before shaking her head, "maybe if you win me something?"

your smile fades, giving her an annoyed look.

"don't look so sad," lara warns, "you'll get a kiss soon enough, n/n."

“okay c’mon, let’s go!” she exclaims, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the carnival.

—

right now you were extremely focused on this basketball carnival game, trying to get all the baskets you possibly can. normally, you hated games like these but when you saw the look in lara’s eyes seeing the stuffed giraffe as a prize you couldn’t hold back.

you were so close to winning the stuffed animal, the worker handing you your last ball. you positioned yourself for a perfect shot, in which you made it.

"the giraffe please!" you say, smiling ear to ear at your win.

lara was staring at your face the entire time, you looked so pretty whenever you smiled. after giving lara the giraffe she thanks you, but not without saying something that catches you off guard.

"your smile is so pretty." lara mutters, making your heart soar.

"thank you." you reply softly.

something about the look on lara's face made you want to kiss her right there, the moment feeling so intimate. something in you knew it wasn't the right time though, your eyes quickly diverting from eye contact with lara to the ground.

"we should go on the ferris wheel!" you stammer, leaving lara confused at the sudden mood change.

she ignored it though, following you as you walked rather quickly to the ferris wheel.

—

the ride would've been much more enjoyable if lara didn't make you incredibly nervous, your confidence going down after the moment you just shared. honestly, you felt sort of sick to your stomach. you knew lara could sense your anxiousness, the girl taking her hand in yours and squeezing it.

"y/n," lara starts, making you look away from the window to look at her.

"i want you to be honest with me, did something go wrong?" she questions, making your heart drop.

"no!" you respond quickly, "sorry, i just i don't know.”

a moment of silence followed your response, both of you breaking eye contact. lara moved her hand to her lap, creating insane tension between you two.

“y/n, it’s okay if you didn’t like the date and you don't feel the same. we can always just leave after this—“ lara starts before you cut her off.

“no, i’m sorry i just didn’t know what to say.” you say grabbing lara’s hand back.

“i really like you lara, like really really like you. you’re so perfect in every way, you just make me nervous.” you admit to the girl, making her smile.

“i like you too y/n.” she replies, squeezing your hand.

“does that mean i can get that kiss now?” you joke, making her laugh.

“yes you can.”

lara wraps her hands around your neck, pulling you in for a kiss. you hold her waist, keeping her close to you as kiss her. finally after a few moments, you both pull away.

you lock eyes, lara speaking up soon after your kiss almost out of breath.

“i want to kiss you again, so bad.”

“so, kiss me.”

—

it was safe to say you and lara did almost anything but enjoy the ferris wheel view, but frankly you didn't care. you'd never been happier in your life, holding hands with the girl of your dreams. it was time to say your goodbyes, as you had just arrived at her members house. the moon shining just right on lara's face, making you stare at her in awe.

you smile briefly at the girl before holding her face for a quick kiss, "today was fun." you say after.

"it really was." lara says.

the two of you hug, holding each other tightly just like you had hours before.

"i think i deserve at least one more kiss y'know?" you tease, making lara laugh softly.

"whatever you say," she muttered, her hands moving up towards your face as she pulled you in for another kiss. it felt so right kissing her, especially in this moment as the two of you kissed for what felt like ages. neither of you wanted to let go, but it was getting late.

"i have to go.." you murmur, making the girl in your arms groan.

"text me when you're home?" lara asks, to which you nod.

"always." you say, beginning to leave before lara grabs your hand again gently.

her body moved before she could really think of what she wanted to do, leading to her uttering out a quick question.

"will you be my girlfriend?" she says softly, "i want this to be more than a one time thing, no matter how busy we are."

feeling flustered at her words you reply simply, "of course."

you really hoped lara would miss your blush as she leaned in for one last kiss, the two of you giggling as you pulled away.

and just like that all of your wishes were granted, you were finally lara's and she was finally yours.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Hi, could you write something with this idea?

The reader goes to the tattoo and piercing store because she had an appointment scheduled with her trusted piercer to get the "Princess Diana" piercing (yes, that one 😏). She goes in psyched, calm, ready… but upon arrival, she learns that her piercer was replaced by Erik.

At first, she wants to cancel, not entirely comfortable with someone new touching her right in such an intimate place, but Erik, with that assurance of his, convinces her to stay. The tension becomes almost unbearable: the atmosphere is heavy, dense, full of intense glances, subtle touches, comments that seem innocent but full of intention.

It all happens with dim lights, background music, and that awkward silence that is only broken by her gasping for breath when he tells her in a deep voice: "You're going to have to trust me… or we can stop here."

That's an idea that has crossed my mind, you can change things to it 😊

The Princess Piercing

Erik Campbell x fem!reader

warning : they want eachother so bad, flirting, implied mutual feelings, tiny comfort, no use of Y/n

Summary : A a perfect day lay ahead of her until she saw that her piercer wasn't there. Instead, she found herself face to face with Erik, who assured her that he would give her the piercing she wanted. Who would have thought that a simple piercing could be so intimate when mixed with fear, care, and mutual attraction?

info: First of all, thank you for the idea/request, my smile grew wider and wider as I read ;) Sorry you had to wait so long, I hope you enjoy reading it, dear anon, and thank you all for your support.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The moment she woke up that morning, it was going to be a perfect day.

It was one of those mornings when the alarm clock woke you up gently, your eyes weren't heavy when you opened them, and the warmth of the blanket was comforting.

The time of day that would have caused a sigh on any other day, the thought of work already ruining everything, was different on this day.

The day ahead was only taken up by an appointment she had chosen herself, and the rest was free.

The sun behind the curtains was pleasantly bright, not blinding, and it too wanted to wake her gently as a “Good Morning” came over her lips.

Maybe it was the lavender tea or the audiobook she had listened to before falling asleep to calm her nerves, but whatever it was, it had worked.

The nervousness she had felt yesterday when she had called her piercer for what was supposed to be a final consultation had subsided.

With an inner joy and a sense of relaxation, she threw back the covers, opened the curtains, and went about her usual morning routine, enjoying her morning coffee and breakfast while watching a little TV and counting the money again to make sure everything went smoothly.

That was all she remembered from her last conversation when she had gone to the piercing and tattoo shop, sat on the couch in the entrance with the slightly older woman, and they had discussed her plans.

The Princess Diana piercing wasn't just a nose or ear piercing; the needle would come close to her most intimate body part, piercing her most intimate area while she lay on the couch with her legs spread apart.

It was a thought that had made her feel uncomfortable the first time, but now when she thought about it, it was more or less a positive excitement as she realized that she was finally getting the piercing she had wanted for so long.

The morning slowly passed, she took a shower to freshen up before getting into her car to drive to the shop, her fingers drumming on the steering wheel as she listened to her favorite playlist, a secret tip from the piercer that helped calm her nerves.

As she drove into the parking lot, humming along to the song, she heard it to the end, folded down the mirror, and touched up her lip gloss with a smile, feeling content.

Nothing could have been better.

She was wearing a comfortable outfit, she felt good and ready, the weather was cooperating, she had the day off, and as she locked her car and walked toward the shop, she got one step closer to her piercing.

This is going to be good, she thought to herself as she opened the door and entered the familiar studio.

No sooner had the door closed behind her and she looked toward the cash register than she saw, or rather didn't see, her trusted piercer.

Instead of the woman, there stood a black-haired man who greeted her with a “Welcome, can I help you?” as she approached.

Almost as if she had known, her joy seemed to fade when she replied, “Hi, yes, I have an appointment for a piercing with your colleague Maria” and she took the small piece of paper out of her bag that Maria had given her, on which the date and time she was supposed to come here were written.

The employee took the note from her when she placed it in front of him, but an apologetic look appeared on his face. “Sorry, Maria called five minutes ago to say she can't come in...can I help you?” he asked, gesturing invitingly toward the glass display cases and tattoo pictures.

How could he have known what kind of piercing she wanted?

This fact threatened to ruin her mood and replaced it with unease when she realized that she had to explain to a stranger that she wanted one of the most intimate piercings available.

He seemed nice, his own piercings spoke of his love of fun, his tattoos were beautifully designed, and his smile was friendly...but he wasn't the one she wanted to be close to.

Taking the piece of paper back and sighing, she replied, “I know you're just as good as Maria, but she's been piercing me for the last few years and, well, I don't feel quite so comfortable having someone else do it” she admitted, feeling a little stupid, even though it was a completely normal reaction.

No one liked to enter a new situation like this with a stranger, but he just nodded understandingly, as if he had been in this situation hundreds of times before.

It was as if he understood her better than anyone else, as if he would give her a hug if she asked for one, as if he would give her all the care that Maria had given her.

He probably had, which is why she wasn't surprised when he replied, “You can call me Erik. We've only known each other for five minutes, but I can assure you that I'll take just as good care of you and won't stab you with the needle” he tried to cheer her up, and his smile calmed her down a little.

He was funny in a way, yet caring.

Probably you had to be like that in a job like his, whether it was reassuring children getting their first earrings or long-time customers with whom you joked around more than you worked.

But what should she say?

Agree that he was exactly as he was, but he didn't know what kind of piercing she wanted.

A fact he addressed when Erik asked, “What kind of piercing would you like?” and pointed to the display case with the various rubber body parts that the piercer showed her as if it were her first time there.

She tried to suppress her excitement as she took a deep breath, pretending to follow his hand as it pointed to the various small metal rings and balls until she finally said, “The Princess Diana piercing” and avoided his gaze, a gaze that went from surprise to almost fascination when she felt his eyes linger on her.

It was as if something had changed between them.

The shop seemed to become too small, the light from outside suddenly seemed too dim, the ceiling fan provided only a slight breeze, the music in the background slowed down, and the ticking of the clock seemed to echo her rapid heartbeat.

Her 'secret' had been revealed, and now she was confronted with Erik, who smiled as if he had realized something. “Thought you were a piercing virgin. Come with me to the back, and you can leave anytime before I do it” he made her the suggestion and pointed further inside to where the room for more intimate piercings was, so that not everyone could just walk in.

It was a suggestion that didn't make her cheeks flush, the man in front of her was so open about it that it attracted her and she just nodded, the tension and excitement under her skin crackling upwards as she followed him.

When he praised her, saying, “You're a brave girl, I must say,” she simply replied, “Thank you, Erik,” as if it were her first time, as if she didn't understand what was happening, as if she were feeling the needle on her body for the first time.

The man in front of her who opened the door and turned on the light, whose gaze fell on her and suddenly placed his hand on her pulse, heat met heat as she paused when his fingers pressed lightly on her artery.

Like a doctor checking her pulse, he smiled at her, “Excitement is good, it gets the blood flowing...to the right places” he winked and closed the door to give her the privacy she needed to undress.

She exhaled the air she had been holding as she put down her bag and began to undress, but the thought that he could come in at any moment, the dull music, and the anticipation of pain were an almost sexual excitement.

Whether it was the piercing or Erik didn't seem to matter anymore when she called out to him and only moments later the door opened and he stood in front of her.

His gaze remained fixed on her eyes and slid to his tools before his hand gently but firmly directed her towards the chair.

“Sit down, dear” he murmured, and she obeyed his command, the room too small for her to fit, the music too slow for her to understand, and Erik slowly getting too close for her not to find it arousing.

The chair with its casters glided across the floor as he came toward her, his gloved latex hands pushing her legs slightly further apart muttering “Good girl” under his breath.

As her fingers clung to her T-shirt, the adrenaline beginning to rush through her, she flinched when he pressed a test needle against her inner thigh.

Erik was amused, a memory of what was about to happen, their eyes meeting nonetheless, him looking at her most intimate spot, the agreement still between them.

A gasp escaped her as Erik whispered, “You'll have to trust me... or we can stop here” his eyes never left hers as the tension became unbearable.

Her nod was enough of an answer for him, and with the needle penetrating her skin, her gasp and his knowing smile, she finally got her Princess Diana piercing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@intothesuccourofshar , @captainthomasrobbie , @monkeydoll5 , @zombiepoe , @starry-eyed-wild-child , @porterroths , @amandalove1355 , @mythicalcowboyatheart , @rhaenyrathecruell , @aashy723 , @luluscoff1n , @fapqueen , @sadslasher13 , @everdxen-mellark , @yearsbecomingcool , @ghastly-artist

[starrysturnz]

overseas, under you [part two]

pairing. chris sturniolo x reader

summary. after the incident, chris chooses the path of avoidance, and y/n can’t seem to get him to admit what’s wrong. but she can only handle so much silence before she breaks, and things don’t exactly go as expected when she confronts him about it.

warnings. hurt/comfort my all time fav genre <3 smut; mentions of a wet dream, blowjob, first time experiencing oral (fem!receiving), the occasional lovebite, a hint of overstimulation (fem!receiving) if you look at this fic through a magnifying glass. they’re so stupid in love it’s gross get this off my feed.

word count. 6.6k

author’s note. guys. it’s finally here. i’m sorry for going MIA, things have been very complicated in my personal life these past few months. i won’t get into it, just know i’m excited to be writing again <3 if you like chris content, consider sending in asks for prince!chris— i want to write more for him :) but lowkey also send matt asks because i’ve been neglecting him… lol.

masterlist | taglist | part one

© starrysturnz. all rights reserved.

y/n couldn’t help but notice the weird vibe chris was giving off.

it was like he couldn’t sit still— well, more so than usual. the second their alarm had sounded, he was rolling her off of him with a quick “sorry,” scrambling out of bed like every second counted to get ready for dinner. the girl didn’t even have a chance to properly open her eyes, let alone process the fact that she’d been draped atop her secret crush as they slept.

chris had made a beeline for the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with haste. y/n just sat up and rubbed her eyes, knowing he wouldn’t be long since he��d left his phone on the nightstand. she could use a minute to choose an outfit; something cute, but not her favorite— she couldn’t waste a perfect look on just dinner.

swinging her legs off the bed, she noted a discomfort between them, a slickness that had her underwear sticking to her in a less-than-comfortable fashion. suddenly, her dream started coming back to her, shocking images flooding her mind of her best friend kissing her, teasing her, feeling her… pleasing her. she’d fantasized about these things before, sure, but it never felt so real.

dragging a hand down her face, y/n stood, opening her suitcase to select an evening dress (and a new pair of underwear). she landed on a plain, silky slip with an exposed back— elegant, but by far one of her least complicated outfits. she’d dress it up with some jewelry and strappy heels, and a handbag large enough to fit only her phone and room key.

she’d just finished grabbing all of her shower products when chris came out of the bathroom, cheeks dusted with a rosy flush. he seemed a little less stir-crazy now, but y/n still clocked his skittish demeanor, how he barely made eye contact with her as he passed her. she sighed to herself, making the executive decision to worry about that once she was ready— she only had so much time to wash up and do her makeup, and she wasn’t prepared to lose any of it.

⁺⁎˚

dinner wasn’t any better. chris was still off, his typical silly comments at an all-time low. he spoke only when spoken to, and kept his answers short and to the point. he didn’t even make a face when the waiter told him they had coke products rather than pepsi, which was so out of character that y/n had to do a double take.

nick and matt dismissed it as a symptom of exhaustion, but y/n knew better. she could see the cogs turning in his head, the crease of his brow speaking for him as he forked distractedly at the food on his plate. something was definitely wrong, but she couldn’t imagine what might’ve altered his mood so drastically in the time they’d been napping, unless he’d had some kind of bad dream.

even then… chris was a talker. if he did have a nightmare, he’d be chatting her ear off about it, or at the very least, he would have mentioned it. it wasn’t that she was on the receiving end a cold shoulder, but there was a distance between them that brewed an unease in y/n’s stomach. the only time chris had actually taken a second to acknowledge her was when she’d stepped out of the bathroom to put on her shoes.

his eyes had locked onto her figure, stopping him in his tracks. if the she didn’t know any better, y/n could’ve sworn she caught his pupils dilating. under different circumstances, she’d be reeling about the moment, replaying it in her head like a broken record. but she couldn’t do that, because in an instant, chris had been back to bustling around the room to grab his wallet, keys, and phone.

“we’re probably gonna be wrapping up the photoshoot by ten,” matt’s voice snapped the girl back to reality from across the booth, “so feel free to get breakfast without us. or if you’d rather sleep in, we can all get brunch together.”

“knowing them, they’ll still be asleep when we get back,” nick chimed in through a mouthful of food.

y/n mustered a small giggle. “you should talk. you’d sleep eighteen hours straight if you could.”

“i’m pretty sure matt has.”

“shut up, nick, no i haven’t.”

“what do you think, chris?” y/n interjected before the argument could begin, nudging the boy next to her, “we sleep in and wait, or ditch these kids?”

“hm?” chris took a moment to mentally return to the table. “oh. uh, whatever you want, i’m cool.”

“so, if i said let’s wake up at seven and get an early start to the day, you’d be okay with that?” she teased, trying to get a rise out of him, anything.

“i’ll just wake up to your alarm,” he said plainly, “doesn’t matter when.” his tone wasn’t rude, wasn’t even dismissive, and somehow that made y/n even more concerned. chris was like a printer— when his brain was full, he would sort of rapid-fire his thoughts aloud, one unfinished concept after another. and right now, it was definitely cluttered, she could tell… but this silence and general indifference was uncharacteristic of him.

“okay,” she offered him a smile. “well, ’m just teasing, anyway. obviously i’d never subject either of us to an early morning.” the faintest quirk of the corner of chris’s mouth felt like a big victory, and y/n’s shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly. shifting back to face the other triplets, she spoke definitively: “we’ll meet you in the lobby when you get back.”

⁺⁎˚

y/n was frustrated, bordering on upset.

she just wanted to know what was going on! had she done something to deserve this detached version of her best friend? the elevator ride up to their floor was painfully awkward, with nick and matt having exhausted all topics of discussion already, and y/n having given up on trying to get chris to talk to her.

she’d started by pitching activities they might want to do tomorrow: attend a luau, take advantage of the hotel’s complimentary surf lessons, even go snorkeling. when that didn’t work, she moved into dirty joke territory, equating her meal to the feeling of several spontaneous orgasms, but he didn’t offer her so much as a grin, almost flinching, even. finally, she tried enticing him with the promise of watching cars (surely his favorite film would win him over?), and after receiving an unenthusiastic response, she gave up altogether. she felt like a mother trying to convince her disinterested teenage child to open us about their interests, or something... and she didn’t care for it.

whatever. she was just going to get changed and sleep, and hopefully chris would be in a more lively mood in the morning. maybe what they both needed was an uninterrupted eight to ten hours.

y/n didn’t bother to hold the door for chris as she entered their shared room, spitefully letting it swing back at him. she snagged her pijamas off the foot of the bed and headed right into the bathroom, unconcerned with the possibility that chris might want to use it, too. her movements weren’t harsh or hurried— more so heavy, visibly tired, generally over it. her shoulders sagged, her temples started to ache. all she wanted was to wash her face, change into comfy clothes, and drink some complimentary tea from the minibar.

it was after the pair had finally gotten in bed that y/n snapped. a little known fact about chris and y/n was that they both preferred to sleep with some background noise playing— any familiar movie or tv show would do. but when their fingers met as they simultaneously reached for the remote between them, chris yanked his hand back like it’d been singed on hot coals. screw the benefit of the doubt, now she was just pissed off.

“chris, what the hell is your deal?” y/n blurted, turning so sharply to face him that she gave herself whiplash. the boy startled, his shoulders practically jumping out of his t-shirt at her sudden anger. taken aback, he hesitated, which only spurred her on. “i mean, seriously, did i do something to you? like, genuinely? because you’ve been walking around all night like somebody kicked your puppy. and i thought i could be the bigger person and just ignore it, but you’re acting like i have fucking cooties, like a fourth-grader. and you refuse to use your words, which is some more fucking fourth-grader bullshit—,”

“y/n—,”

“—and at first, i thought maybe you were just tired, because we both know you get grumpy when you’re tired, but i’ve literally never seen you be this quiet in my life—,”

“y/n, just—,”

“—and i’m sorry that they didn’t have any other rooms available, and i’m sorry that sharing one with me makes you so uncomfortable, but i honestly didn’t think that after years of friendship and sleepovers and cuddling that it would throw you off this much. but this is really freaking me out, so for the love of god, can you please just tell me what i did to deserve—,”

the kiss came so unexpectedly, y/n almost didn’t have a chance to process what was happening before chris pulled away, his face mere inches from hers. a hand snaked its way up her neck to support the back of her head as he leaned his forehead against hers, their breath mingling in the space between them.

“you,” he exhaled through a small smile, “talk so much, kid.”

but when he leaned back, chris wasn’t met with the stunned look he was expecting. the smirk on his lips faded instantly when instead, he saw her eyes welled with tears, insecurity and confusion swimming there. his demeanor changed on a dime to concerned, his hands reaching for her own, but stopping short on their way… he didn’t know if she wanted to be touched.

“hey,” chris whispered, ducking his head in a futile attempt to catch her eye. “y/n? i’m sorry, i shouldn’t’ve….”

he swallowed the frog in his throat at the sight of her arms wrapping themselves around her stomach protectively. fuck, he fucked up, didn’t he?

his voice was soft, encouraging when he spoke next. “y/n… look at me.” he had to ask once or twice more before she obliged, and he offered her an apologetic quirk of the corner of his mouth. “i should’ve asked first. ’m sorry. i just… couldn’t keep listening to you insisting you did something wrong.”

it took a couple moments for the right words to find her. then, shifting slightly on the mattress, she broke his heart.

“then why does it feel like you don’t want me around?”

she almost regretted her question from the way his features molded into an expression of anguish. this time, he didn’t stop himself from taking her hands in his, gently tugging her closer. the pads of his thumbs made quick work of smoothing over her skin.

“y/n,” he started bluntly, “i want you around every second of every day. i would literally crawl inside your skin if i could.”

relief flooded his system at the sound of her watery laugh. “that’s insane,” she mumbled, sniffling.

“’s true. you drive me crazy.”

y/n’s giggles died down quickly, and a tense silence fell over them. chris never let up on his ministrations, her hands heavy in his own. she watched the motion of his thumbs sweeping the backs of her hands for a moment before trying again.

“what happened tonight, chris? i mean, you practically ignore me for hours and hours, and then y-you kiss me when i yell at you for it? please, i…,” she looked up at him through her lashes, eyes wide and full of something he couldn’t quite decipher, “i want to understand.”

chris took a deep breath, squeezing her hands once before hesitantly beginning to explain what had happened mere hours earlier. he watched as the color drained from her face, pulling away from his touch in favor of throwing her head into her palms— he missed her warmth the instant it was gone.

y/n didn’t move a muscle when he finished speaking, hoping that any second now she would wake up from this cruel nightmare. mortified didn’t even begin to cover it— she felt sick to her stomach. chris, sympathetic as always, reached out, fingertips grazing her arm. his heart plummeted when she flinched at the feeling.

“y/n, ’s okay. you… y‘ weren’t the only one who was, uh… affected.”

y/n’s breath halted in her chest. waiting, processing, comprehending. she peeked over the wall of her fingers.

“what? you mean… you were…?”

bashfulness bloomed on his cheeks as he offered her a guilty smile. “why do you think i pushed you off so quick? almost didn’t make it to the bathroom.”

for someone with so many thoughts running through her head, so many questions to ask, y/n was speechless. chris had never struggled so hard to read her, and the quietude in the air furthered his anxiety more and more as the seconds passed. did he say the wrong thing? maybe this was too much information— the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

no sudden movements. chris would do anything to escape the deafening silence, but he also knew that he had to let her speak first. it was her move, and she had him in check.

there were grey hairs on his head by the time y/n’s voice eventually tickled his ears.

“chris…,” she took a deep breath in, the fresh air replacing the stale. no going back now. “…have you wanted me as long as i’ve wanted you?”

checkmate.

chris’s eyes grew dark with lust. gentle but now sure hands found purchase on the soft of her waist, tugging the girl into his lap, their noses brushing from the newfound proximity. it took everything in her to meet his steady gaze and hold it.

“y/n,” calloused fingertips ghosted along her cheek, “i can’t remember a time when i didn’t want you.”

that was all she needed to hear before finally, finally closing the distance between them.

the kiss wasn’t hurried, but wasn’t hesitant either. it was deliberate, chalk-full of years‘ worth of unspoken feelings and uncrossed barriers and the relief of being on the same page for the first time in their lives. his hands were everywhere— her face, her waist, her thighs— fighting hard to remain respectful in their exploration of her body. they’d skim faintly beneath the hem of her shorts, her t-shirt, just barely so before retreating into safer territory.

y/n didn’t mind. she almost didn’t notice. she was blissfully distracted by the sensation of chris’s lips waltzing against hers. it was like she’d always imagined it, only hotter, breathier, like he’d rather die kissing her than come up for air .(the feeling was mutual.) her own hands clutched just below the neckline of his shirt, tugging him impossibly closer, bent elbows caged between them when his arms snaked their way around her frame. she reveled in the feeling of his biceps flexing against her, safe and secure in his embrace— nothing could hurt her here.

y/n was sure her face was turning blue when they eventually pulled away, chris taking her bottom lip between his teeth and tugging before letting go altogether. he was already smiling at her when she opened her eyes.

“hi,” she giggled sheepishly, cheeks warm under his gaze.

chris’s smile deepened, a content sigh escaping him as he admired her. “hi, baby,” he thumbed over her brow. “you okay?”

the girl nodded a response. “i’m perfect.”

he hummed in agreement. “you are.”

a beat passed, and y/n shifted under his heavy gaze, noticing a stiffness beneath her as she did. realization washed over her like cold shower, and she startled in his hold, attempting to back up off him a little.

“hey, what’re you…,” chris followed her eyeline to his lap. “oh.” he offered her an apologetic smile, arms loosening to give her space to move if she was uncomfortable. “’m sorry, i didn’t even realize. guess you just have that effect on me. we can stop, if you want.”

the speed with which y/n responded shocked even herself.

“what if i helped this time?”

chris was rarely ever rendered speechless, but something about the way she was looking up at him so innocently, lips swollen from his kisses, stole the air clean out of his lungs. the silence was enough to get y/n in her head again.

“i don’t have to, or anything, i just….”

chris shook the dumbfounded look off his face, pulling her in again.

“no, god—, i would… i would love that, seriously.” his large hands settled on her thighs— not squeezing, not rubbing, just resting. “but i don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. ’m perfectly happy takin‘ care of it myself.”

the sincere expression etched on his face, the crease in his brow made something melt behind y/n’s ribs.

“i know, chris,” she tilted her head a degree to the right, smoothing her clammy palms down on his shoulders, trying to find an outlet for the abundance of (nervous? excited?) energy buzzing in her body. “you’ve always been a perfect gentleman, even when we were kids. sometimes too much for your own good.”

she caught his confused gaze, and used her grip on his shoulders to pull him in, planting a quick kiss to his cheek, then to the corner of his mouth, before leaning back again.

“but i’m offering, so… if you want, then i wanna help.”

chris studied her for a moment, searching for any signs of a bluff. but no dice— this was real. like, actually happening to him. his best friend, the love of his life. how did he get so lucky?

“okay, baby. could you hand me that pillow?”

⁺⁎˚

y/n shifted her weight, trying to situate in a way that wouldn’t leave her with sore knees for the rest of her vacation. she especially wouldn’t want to find bruises there, considering half her dresses fell to the mid-thigh— she put too much effort into those outfits just to jeopardize them now!

“y’good down there, angel?” chris asked. “comfortable?” she smiled at his concern, ultimately deciding she wanted another pillow to kneel on, which he happily and hastily provided for her.

soon they were all set— y/n perched between chris’s legs as he manspreaded off the side of the bed. he was clad in only his underwear now, having discarded his pants moments ago, and her eyes found themselves fixed on the bulge a mere foot away from her. she was anxious, no doubt, but more than that, she was excited. her greatest fantasy was coming true. not just to sleep with, but to have. someone who wanted her the way she wanted him, as much as she wanted him.

the girl was yanked from her thoughts at the feeling of fingertips kissing her cheeks and settling behind her jaw, steady hands caressing her face as if she were made of porcelain. his thumbs traced over her cheekbones once, twice, hooded eyes admiring her own before pulling her up ever-so-slightly to meet him as he leaned down.

his mouth sponged against her nose, her lips, and finally her forehead, against which he whispered, “still okay?” she nodded, and he rubbed his thumbs along her skin again, pulling back. “gotta hear you say it, baby.”

y/n told him she was just fine, great, even, and chris didn’t think he’d ever loved her more than in this exact moment. at first, he scolded himself at the thought— of course he’d feel that way right when she was about to give him head. typical man.

but then y/n gasped, startling him for a fraction of a second as she reached a hand up toward his face.

“hold still, honey… you have an eyelash.”

before closing his eyes at the proximity, chris was able to catch the look of concentration in the deep set of her brow, the tip of her tongue peeking out the corner of her mouth as she attempted to pick the fallen lash up, and his heart just sort of… stopped.

she was so genuine, effortlessly beautiful in every aspect. her warmth rivaled that of the sun, her eyes shone brighter than the north star, and chris just knew— he knew his affection for her was far deeper than any sexual attraction. he’d turn celibate in a heartbeat if she asked.

“make a wish.”

chris knew what he wanted.

y/n giggled at the tickling sensation of his breath blowing the lash away, looking up at him with an expression that had him questioning if he was dreaming. her hands trailed up his thighs, sending a shiver through him. “what’d you wish for?”

“won’t come true if i tell you.”

“so lame,” she pouted, dipping her fingers into the waistband of his boxer-briefs. “can i?”

chris shot her an incredulous look, rolling his eyes playfully as he lifted his hips. there was a sudden tension in the air as he was freed from the confines of the material, which he was scared would turn into an awkward silence, before he was promptly reminded that this was y/n he was dealing with.

“that is so not all fitting in my mouth, chris.”

her deadpan reaction had him reeling so hard his ribs protested and cursed him.

“get outta here,” he managed to say between fits of laughter, wiping his eyes with the backs of his palms.

“i would, but i’ve got work to do.” and with that, she took him in her hand, ending chris’s chortling with a sharp hiss. her thumb swiped over his stiff tip, collecting the leakage there, and her lips quirked proudly at the sight of him gripping the edge of the mattress.

“oh, fuck,” he exhaled, lashes fluttering as he closed his eyes. she repeated the motion a few more times, reveling in the power she held. it was fun to tease him…. chris was always in charge, even in the most innocent of ways. he opened doors for her, paid for meals, even checked up on her on nights out to see if she needed help getting home (it’s a wonder she didn’t notice his interest in her sooner)— just once, she wanted to be the one in control.

quite suddenly, chris felt an unmistakable warmth and wetness envelop the head of his cock. it sent a jolt through him— lightning through his nervous system— his eyes flying back open, meeting her own. she was giving him the most beautiful puppy-dog stare he’d ever seen, and he had to glance away for fear of cumming way too soon.

she kept at it for a minute, eventually popping off to lick a long stripe from the base to the tip. his groans from above woke a few butterflies in her belly she didn’t know were sleeping, motivating her. she took the tip in her mouth again, swirling her tongue, before starting to sink lower.

chris’s hands shot to the back of her head on instinct, and it took most of his already waning willpower not to push down. instead, he rested his palms flat behind her ears, massaging her scalp occasionally. y/n could tell he was trying to be gentle, but his grip tightened with each new centimeter she took.

“y/n,” chris said breathlessly, “angel. ’s perfect, don’t— don’t stop.”

she wasn’t going to stop. she hollowed her cheeks, earning another low moan from him. her tongue explored as much of him as it could reach, and when that wasn’t enough to satiate her, she went deeper, feeling him hit the back of her throat.

y/n felt herself begin to gag just a bit. chris noticed too, of course he did, his now-scratchy voice still as soothing as ever.

“y’got it, y/n. breathe through your nose for me. there you go.” his right hand smoothed over the back of her head reassuringly, the opposite thumb wiping away a tear she didn’t realize had fallen. “doin‘ so good.”

unfortunately, y/n was only human, and humans need oxygen to live. she pulled off him slowly, torturously, watching his eyes— which were hooded with lust, desperation, and something else she couldn’t quite place— drink in the sight of her already fucked-out face. she coughed.

“all right?” he asked.

shutting her eyes, she said, “yeah, sorry— just need a second.” her hands rested on his knees as she caught her breath, swallowing hard. a few moments passed (chris thumbing at her earlobe endearingly) before she opened them again, and there he was, staring down at her with blown pupils and a heave in his chest.

“please, baby.”

her thighs clenched, and y/n wasted no time getting back to work. it took her a minute to work up the nerve to try going all the way down again, but a particularly low groan from chris had her confidence shooting sky high. she pulled off, a string of saliva connecting her lips to his tip, which she kissed away. then she was sliding down his length again— she could feel him twitch in her mouth, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a little embarrassed at the way her hips bucked at the sensation.

she shuffled closer for a better angle, making it all the way down without gagging, taking chris’s advice and breathing through her nose.

“holy f-fuck, i— y/n, ’m gonna… gonna cum soon, baby,” chris tried to warn. he gently tapped her cheek, as if to say ‘pull off,’ but y/n wasn’t having it. she reached up to carefully squeeze his balls, a sort of final touch— she’d heard from her friends that guys really liked that, even if she found it rather awkward to do— and it worked. in no time, chris was canting his hips upward, shooting a heavy load down y/n’s throat, groaning and cursing and biting his lip so hard he might’ve drawn blood. but his hands remained gentle on her head.

nobody spoke as they caught their breath. the space around them was thick with the air from their lungs; not enough to fill the room, but definitely enough to fog up the inside of their private little bubble. her cheek laid against his thigh, eyes closed and arm hooked around his shin for comfort— his, too.

after some time (maybe a minute, maybe more), chris broke the silence.

“you’re unreal, y/n.”

she giggled. “i try.”

a few seconds passed as he studied her face with hooded eyes, breathing heavy. there were so many things he wanted to say, so many plans taking shape in his head, but for now he’d keep those to himself. all in good time.

“all right,” he got up, patting the middle of the bed as he held out a hand, helping her up, “your turn.”

y/n froze. “what?”

“’m returning the favor. y‘ didn’t think i was gonna leave you high and dry, did you?”

the smirk on his face began to fall when she didn’t answer him, her feet seemingly rooted to the floor. she opened her mouth as if to speak, closing it a second later.

“what is it, angel?” his tone was warm, encouraging, but she heard the concern seeping through.

she toed at the carpet, dropping her head to avoid eye contact. it was a stupid thing to have to admit, a little embarrassing, even. “nothing, really. it’s just…,” she sighed, picking at a hangnail anxiously, “um, i’ve just never… received before.” the girl winced at how juvenile the words sounded out loud.

the crease wasted no time forming in chris’s brow. “wait, you’re saying no one’s ever eaten you out?”

if chris hadn’t sounded so genuinely confused in his question, y/n would’ve thought he was teasing her. she just shook her head.

scratching his jaw in thought, he said, “we don’t have to do anything if it makes you uncomfortable, baby. you wanna stop? order some dessert?” he snuck a brief glance at the clock on the desk. “or we could just sleep. whatever makes you happy, ’s all i want.”

but the thought of stopping had her stomach churning.

“no, no… i want to, promise.” she toyed with the hem of her top. “i’m just a bit nervous, is all.”

“how about this, then,” he laid his warm palms on her hips, pulling her carefully closer and landing a kiss on her cheek, “you try it with me, and if you hate it, we stop. and i’ll find another, equally enjoyable way to get you off.”

she couldn’t stifle the laugh in her throat. “chris—!”

“or if you hate that idea too, then we can just snuggle,” he nuzzled his face into her neck, earning him a loud shriek followed by some more giggles.

“as tempting as the snuggles sound, why don’t we save them for after?”

chris pulled back, smiling. “you sure, baby? was jus‘ teasing you before, i really don’t mind.”

“no, i wanna try. i just hope your mouth is good for more than all that yapping.”

“don’t hate, you know you love the sound of my voice.”

“just shut up and get to work, chris.”

⁺⁎˚

despite their silly banter, y/n was still anxious. chris had been so patient when undressing her, telling her how beautiful she was, kissing the new exposed skin softly, instructing her multiple times to say the word if she felt uncomfortable, that he wouldn’t be upset if she wanted to stop— and all of that definitely helped her to relax.

but this was still uncharted territory for her, and she wanted nothing more than for it to go well. she wasn’t even sure how someone in her position could mess it up, but she figured she’d somehow find a way.

y/n felt the tapping on her temple before hearing his voice. “you okay up there?”

she nodded, lowering her gaze. “yeah, sorry. just… thinking.”

one corner of the boy’s mouth twitched up mischievously.

“don’t worry, baby,” he brought his face in close, stopping just when he felt his lips brush against her own. “i’ll make that stop.”

it took chris seconds to assume his place at the altar— head stuffed between y/n’s soft thighs, nipping at the skin there just to feel her jolt and tense beneath his touch. he was busy smoothing over one of the marks he’d just left when she whined.

“chris, please, i can’t wait any—,”

her words were replaced by a sharp gasp, fingers hurriedly collecting the bedding beneath her for some semblance of support. the first few licks were long and slow, almost transitional. chris figured it’d be best not to dive in all at once; a slow introduction, like acclimating to a cold pool.

his big hands were planted on each of her knees, holding her legs open as he worked, eyes closed as he drank in her taste, her scent. a deep groan escaped him, and he felt y/n clench around nothing at the sensation.

she was addicting. this was heaven, he thought, and her noises were the sounds of the angels‘ choir. he could do this forever.

y/n was also in heaven. it had only taken moments for the anxiety to slip away in favor of overwhelming pleasure. the girl wasn’t sure what to do with her hands, letting them roam across the sheets, pillows, her own skin, before eventually settling in chris’s hair; hesitantly at first— she didn’t want to hurt him, after all. but there had been a particularly sharp nip to her clit, her fingers tightened of their own accord, and the noise that sounded from chris had her abandoning all concern about his pain whatsoever.

“god, you’re delicious,” he marveled, briefly surfacing for air, pupils blown behind hooded lids. “could eat this pussy for hours.”

“chris,” y/n half laughed, half whined. she could feel the warmth migrating up her chest to her cheeks.

“’m serious, ma. would do this every day if you’d let me.”

y/n smiled, head falling back against the pillow with a soft thud, grateful for the opportunity to catch her own breath. her fingers busied themselves, massaging gently into his scalp and twisting the occasional lock between them. she’d figured chris would jump back in any second now, and just as she was about to peek through her lashes to see what the hold up was, she felt his grip snaking around her thighs, gently repositioning her.

“chris, what—,”

“shh,” he whispered, placing her legs up onto his shoulders and sliding his arms under her thighs to rest his hands on her hips. “trust me, baby,” he planted a kiss on the crest of her mound for emphasis, “you’ll like this.”

swallowing hard in anticipation, y/n nodded. the sensation of his fingertips drawing soothing shapes into her soft skin was a welcome distraction from the newfound nerves coiling in her belly.

with a final glance up at his beautiful girl, chris dove back in headfirst. this time, the fervor with which he operated had her digging her heels into his back, arching her own off the mattress, damp with her sweat. chris’s greedy tongue, accompanied by his nose nudging her clit just right, had her seeing stars.

“chris, oh my—!” her hips bucked up on their own accord, his strong hands pushing them back down into the bed. y/n whined, writhing at the feeling of the tip of his tongue dipping into her entrance.

“i got you, baby,” he promised, face still stuffed between her thighs. the vibration of his own moan had her jaw dropping, and her body struggling to decide if it wanted to retreat or push harder into him.

chris decided for her, yanking her closer as he began to focus solely on her clit. the lewd sounds of his sucking and her sobbing filled the room, and y/n honestly wouldn’t be shocked if nick and matt heard them all the way down the hall.

she opened her eyes again, drunk on the image of her best friend devouring her. her eyes studied his toned figure, all smooth skin and shoulder muscles contracting as he worked. just then, she zeroed in on one particular detail— small, but enough to hatch more butterflies within her. chris’s own hips were rutting into the comforter, slowly but at a steady pace, as if chasing his own high.

he was getting off to this.

something sparked in y/n’s head, lighting a fuse that traveled all the way down to her aching core. the idea that chris was eating her out not only for her pleasure, but his too was enough to have her right on the edge, muscles tensing, hands reaching blindly for his own.

chris (ever the attentive lover) caught on, securing her shaky hands, returning her vice grip with a gentle one. thumbs brushed along her knuckles carefully, a stark contrast to the growing intensity of his mouth on her center.

“can feel you getting close, angel,” he mused. “gonna cum for me?”

the only thing y/n could do was nod frantically, words altogether failing her. “can i?” she managed after a few tries, “can i, please? please, can i cum?”

chris’s brow furrowed. “’course, you can. don’t have to ask, baby.”

his green light was all she needed. in seconds, she was squirming in his steady hold, warmth blooming from her core and up through her limbs. chris didn’t let up, still lapping away as she convulsed beneath him. it was like he couldn’t get enough, and one too many licks had her whining and begging him to ease up.

“sorry, angel,” he kissed the tops of her thighs, her navel, the space between her breasts, and finally, her lips, “couldn’t help myself. ’s just so good.”

y/n offered him a weak smile in response, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel a surge of pride in his chest at the sight of her rendered speechless and spent at his hand (or rather, his tongue). but he did need her to focus, just for a minute.

“hey,” he started softly, “y/n. look at me, okay?” she listened, and the combination of her heavy breathing and puppy-dog eyes almost had him scooping her up into his arms— but there would be time for that in a minute.

“i know you’re tired, but we gotta get you cleaned up. you feeling like a shower? want me to run you a bath? hm?” he smoothed his hand along her face, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger and angling her gently to meet his gaze. she shook her head.

“wanna cuddle…,” she pouted.

something fluttered in his chest. “we will, baby. just let me take care of you first, all right? i’m gonna be right back, just stay here and try not to fall asleep on me.”

he didn’t wait for a reply before heading swiftly to the bathroom and returning with a warm washcloth, carefully wiping up the mess he made between her legs. she winced at the feeling, earning and apology from the boy.

“all done now,” he whispered, settling next to her in the bed and pulling her into him. he stroked her arm in reassuring motions, laying a soft kiss to her forehead. she nestled into the crook of his neck, sighing softly.

a few moments passed in comfortable silence. then, “thank you, chris. i just… i want you to know….”

it didn’t matter that she couldn’t get the words out, chris understood. he always understood her.

“i know, baby. me too.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

they smiled at each other. y/n shifted, and felt something stiff against her leg. a small gasp escaped her.

“chris, you’re— you’re still….”

“hm? oh.” he looked down at his still-hard length, poking through his boxers. “don’t worry about it. it’ll go down.” he smirked. “eventually.”

“are you sure you don’t want to, um… take care of it?”

chris was tempted to tease her for her shy demeanor, but ultimately opted against it. he’d have plenty of time to do that now. “just wanna hold you. is that okay?”

y/n nodded. “yeah, that’s okay.”

for a few long moments, his arms were like boa constrictors around her, as if he was afraid to let go— like she might slip through his hold if he closed his eyes too long. y/n didn’t mind. she was safe with chris; nothing could hurt her here.

they were both on the brink of sleep when y/n spoke for the final time that night, something that had been on her mind.

“chris?” she whispered, earning a small hum in response, “you really aren’t gonna tell me what you wished for earlier?”

he didn’t open his eyes, just placed his hand over hers on his chest, squeezing lightly.

“don’t worry ’bout it, angel,” he said. “’s already coming true.”

important: if you want to be on any of my taglists, please leave a comment on my taglist post. it’s how i keep track, and the best way for you to guarantee i won’t miss you! if i missed your username, name sure you’ve commented. if you have and i still didn’t catch it, send an ask! kisses <3

taglist: @stylessuperwhore @sofieeeeex @chrisslut04 @bluestriips @grace-sturnz @freshlyinlovewchris @landrysflannel @starsforu @letsstrippp @liasturniolo @bilssturns @slut4brunettes @r0set0y @httpssturns @miolos @mattsbabytomato @chrissturniolossidehoe @mattspinkyfinger @fbvreadingblog @larryleeroy-lobsterbob @tworosesblackthorn @moppishello @strnilolover @cutseylady @lov3bug @sturnsburna @chriss-slutt @i-love-matt-sturniolo @sturniolotoast @ellieluvssturniolos @jasmina4499 @surprisecurlyfriess @pip4444chris @matchacake-jpg @sturniolo1obsessed @darksturnz @alexturnersgooch @rinnzsturns-main @sedlackemily @lalaeden @elliexchris

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Saving What Was Lost Part 9: Stay✨

Pre-Outbreak! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I’ve been a little busy the past few months focusing on my book, but I’m excited I finally had time to write a little for this series 🩵 I love these two so much, and I hope you enjoy! We’re getting into Joel’s angst in this chapter.

Chapter Summary: You get a glimpse into Joel’s past and realize he might be just as broken as you.

Rating: 18+ only MDNI

Word Count: 5.5k

Tags: Grief, flashbacks, soft! Joel, grieving Joel, angst, feelings, fluff, dual POV, age gap (reader late 20’s, Joel late 40’s), slow burn

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

  January’s cold, with light snowflakes glistening on the ground outside. But today, it’s warm inside. The fire pops, shrouding the room in a blanket of heat, while the trees howl outside the windows. 

   It’s Friday. Nothing’s on Joel’s schedule. Not even Tommy’s blowing up his phone. It’s just peaceful, a bit silent, draped in muted tranquility. But also, there’s something in the air, tingling along your arm like electricity. Something new. Something untouched. Something… warm. 

   “C’mere. Wanna show you something,” Joel says from across the way, leaning against the fireplace. He’s all warm, like usual. A small smile curled across his lips. Brown eyes slipping over you. A green flannel pulled across his cords of muscle. Greying locks all tousled from his hands. It makes you almost breathless. 

   You tilt your head and lay the book flat on the couch, your eyes brimming with curiosity. “What is it?”

   “A surprise,” he says, flashing you a white smile across the room. 

   Pressing your lips together, you frown, but only a little. “You know I don’t like—”

   He interjects and looks at you, softening his crinkling eyes. “You trust me?”

   There’s that question again. The one that makes your stomach flip. Makes you somersault all the way to his glittering brown eyes. 

   You swallow and nod slowly. “Yes.”

   Tugging on a grin, he tilts his head and starts walking toward the long hallway. “C’mon, then. Got something you might like.”

   Slowly, you trail after him, keeping a faint distance, but also following right on his heels like a cat, tiptoeing over solid wooden floors and flitting by framed photos. 

   He stops at the end of the hall, right in front of his office. The one he keeps shut all the time. Two solid mahogany doors polished and dusted, with golden doorknobs and invisible signs that must say to keep the door closed. But there he is, pushing them wide open, allowing you to step through into his space.

   “Well, here we are,” he says as you pass through the doors, your eyes wide at the scene.

   “This is… Wow. This is your office?” you ask, your jaw dropped as you map out his large office. 

   “Mhm,” he chuckles. “Figured you might wanna look through the bookshelves in here. Almost forget about them sometimes.”

   Your eyes trail over the dark wood of the walls, framed pictures of lakes and deer in thick forests hanging high above. There’s a large mahogany desk in the back corner that’s littered with papers, an open laptop, ink pens, and a pair of glasses. A small reading area sits tucked away in the right hand side of the room, a couple pillows pressed against the clear window that overlooks the side of the house—trees and acres of land to map out Joel’s space. But what gets you the most are the large, expensive bookcases that line the back walls. All filled with various types. Some full of color, some old with a light coat of dust on the pages, some brand new with a film of shine. 

   It’s incredible. This is exactly somewhere you’d hang out. Maybe when Joel’s up late working a case. You could just curl up in the corner by the window seat, watch over the top of a book while he smooths his face with his hand, peels his eyes open with the sip of his black coffee. You think you’d like that. Staying up with him, keeping him company. Maybe he wouldn’t be so stressed then. Maybe he could finally just relax for a bit. 

   “These are all yours?” you ask as you trail your hand over the colorful spines, astounded at the texts he has sitting here, waiting to be read.

   “All mine.” There’s a smile you hear in his light tone. It makes tingles run down your arms.

   “Joel… this is incredible,” you breathe as you pull out a book on the history of Ireland, fingers brushing against the pristine pages of dark green land.

   “Quite the collection, yeah?” he asks, amused as he slides in next to you, dragging his fingers over the polished shelves.

   “Yeah…”

   “Well, it’s yours now, too.”

   Your mouth drops open as you snap your head to the side, almost dropping the book in surprise. “What did you say?”

   He smiles, a saccharine expression framing his brown eyes. “Pick anything you like, sweetheart. They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

   “Joel…”

   Brushing it off, he tilts his head to the side, encouraging you to venture in his office. “Well, go on, sweetheart. They’re waitin’ for you.”

   They’re waiting for you. He means the books, but it almost sounds like he’s waiting too, for you.

   Swallowing, you pad across the room, eagerly slipping books from the shelves, till you have a stack against your chest. Joel chuckles when he turns and sees you carrying the large load. His eyes are all sparkling and soft, just like they always are when he looks at you. You can’t help but to smile back at him and blush. Has he always made you feel this warm? You guess he has. Even from that first night he saved you, he’s always been so fucking soft for you, you think. 

   When you turn, you still at the edge of his desk when a glint of a smile catches your eye. Setting the books on the edge, you tiptoe over to the shiny glass and pick up a picture that’s framed in a golden hue. The glass spotless, like he wipes it of dust every hour of each day. 

   You ghost your fingers over the untainted glass and swallow as your eyes peel over the picture. There’s Joel. A few years younger, wearing a soft white T-shirt and blue jeans, standing in front of a planetarium sign. He’s all smiles, his eyes glowing, hair all tousled. And there’s a little girl standing next to him, holding up a hand with one arm wrapped around his back. She’s got short brown hair tied up halfway, hazel eyes that favor mostly green, freckles dusted across her nose, and a rock and roll T-shirt donned against black shorts. 

   “Who’s this?” 

   Joel turns his head, his eyes falling to the picture you’re holding like it’s fragile and delicate. “Oh. That’s umm, Ellie,” he says carefully as he pads up beside you, his eyes flicking to the picture that’s in your hands. 

   “Is she yours?” you ask cautiously. 

   “She… was mine.” He takes the picture from your grasp and runs his thumb along the outer glass, tracing her face like she was the most important light in his life, besides Sarah.

   “Was?” You tilt your head and look up to find his eyes glistening with held back tears. 

   “Was…” he whispers faintly, like he’s afraid to speak it into existence. 

   You continue staring at him, waiting for something to happen. Waiting for the pin to drop. But you think it might’ve already hit the floor. 

   His mouth forms into a tight line as he speaks. “I found her in a shipping container when I was on a job. She was all alone and scared. Twelve-years-old. Only three years younger than Sarah. Found out she was in foster care, and I jus’ didn’t have the heart to take her back to that. So, I adopted her.”

   You move a little closer and lean into the mahogany desk, right where he’s at, still staring into the glass like it’ll come to life. 

   “God, that girl was a troublemaker,” he chuckles, shaking his tousled hair out. “Always getting into stuff, always so fascinated by everything. Couldn’t get that girl to be still for a second.” 

   “Sounds like you were fond of her,” you smile as your eyes flick up to his. 

   He glances over at you and nods. “Yeah. She got on my nerves, but I really loved that girl.” 

   I really loved that girl. The words stick to your skin like summer sweat. You blink up at him and wait. Waiting for you’re not sure what. For him to continue explaining, you guess.

   His attention falls back on the picture frame. “She was always so excited for college. Paleontology. That’s what she wanted to do. Couldn’t get that girl to stop talkin’ ‘bout dinosaurs for even a second. She was so eager to get back to campus, even though it was the middle of Christmas break. Crazy girl.” He laughs under his breath, shakes his head again at the memory. 

   Curling your fingers against the edge of the desk, you reach for more. “What happened to her?”

   He tenses at the question. His lips press together, and he clenches his jaw. Then, he whispers, quietly. “She died.” 

   The air pierces in a deafening silence, almost like the trees froze outside and the world stopped spinning. Oxygen ceases to exist for a second in your lungs as you gasp for air. 

   She died.

   “She… oh, Joel.” You stumble over words, almost afraid to say anything. 

   He shifts his weight and leans deeper against the desk, like he’s trying to melt into nonexistence. Just so he won’t have to talk about it. “A few days after Christmas. She was so eager to get back to campus. Even though it was dark outside. She couldn’t wait till the mornin’. Said she had to get back to an important project. But I told her to wait ‘cause it was freezin’ out. And it was drizzling rain, a little sleet building on her car.” 

   You blink, trying to gather everything he just said to you. “She left?”

   He nods. “I tried to pry the keys from her hand. Told her if it was so urgent to let me drive, but she refused. Said she was fine, and I’d jus’ slow her down. So I let her go, jus’ like that…”

   There’s a dark cloud hanging over his greying locks, a deep melancholy feeling burrowing into your chest. And there’s static around the room, depleting Joel’s oxygen, making his brain ache with a migraine between his blurry eyes. You want to reach and take it from him, replace the pain with something good, but all you can seem to do is just stand there, hoping someone can come and save him. 

   “What happened?” you ask, cautious as the void blooms in his dark eyes. 

   He opens his mouth once and snaps it shut, swallows something down and pushes the drawbridge open again, before he shuts down. “A truck lost control on the slick road,” he states, looking down at the picture in his hand, thumb grazing over her smiling face. “There was ice, and he was going too fast. And he… he hit Ellie and knocked her car off the side of the road.” He stops a beat, swallows a tear and continues with shaky hands. “The fire department gave me a call, and I raced there as fast as I could. Almost lost control myself, but nothing seemed to matter in the moment. I jus’ had to get to her, to know she was okay. But by the time I got there, she was just… gone.”

   The last word makes your ears ring, makes you want to pull him into your arms to soothe the pain, but you don’t move. You just freeze, aching to say something that’ll make him feel better, but what can you say? 

   “Joel…” you plead, desperate to crawl into his lap and hug him tight. But again, you do nothing. You’re just here, existing next to his space. Invisible strings that should be cut and pulled apart. 

   “She was just starting out. Still had a lifetime ahead of her. If I would’ve pushed harder for her to stay, would’ve taken the keys from her hand and drove her myself then maybe… maybe she’d be here. Maybe I would’ve taken her place. Maybe… I’d still have my little girl.” His voice cracks at the end of the sentence, a desperate cry to get his little girl back, but she’s gone. And he sounds so broken, so angry, yet pawing for some relief to his ache. You want to give him that, if only you knew how.

   Slowly looking up, you carefully reach out and brush the side of your knuckles against his wrist, where his watch sits idle. “It’s not your fault,” you say, trying to soothe the ache away.

   “It feels like my fault,” he growls a little, hanging his head a little lower as his bottom lip trembles. “Some days are so fuckin’ hard to get through. Some days I can’t stand to look in the mirror because all I see is that shattered glass on her broken windshield. All I see is my Ellie staring back at me with glassy eyes. And it… it… fuckin’ hurts.” He cracks as a tear slips free, landing on the glass of that perfect picture of his whole world in his hands.

   Another minute goes by, and his eyes are all coated in a thick shine as tears gather and spill one by one, pressing on his heartstrings with each drop that lands on the glass. 

   You need to do something. What, you’re not sure. But you think maybe if he had someone to hold then maybe it’d sting a bit less. Maybe, just maybe, you could take his gloomy day and turn it into spots of sunlight. 

   Blinking again, you slowly turn your body around and stop when your legs are pressed against his knees. He’s still lost in the past, trying to hold on to Ellie, but she’s slipped from his grasp. And before the picture falls from his open hand, you catch it and set it back down on the desk, waiting for him to look up. 

   “Joel?” you say, calling his name softly, but he doesn’t look up, doesn’t even move. So you try a new tactic. One that will take a little courage to muster up. 

   Slowly, hesitantly, you wrap your fingers around the soft material of his blue flannel and take a step closer, till you’re right in his space. 

   He swallows another tear and blinks up, his eyes all misty with tears, dark brown and coated in sorrow. And he just stares at you, like you’re some kind of saving grace. Like maybe you could steal his hurt and lock it away in a safe, somewhere he couldn’t find it again. 

   You just stand there, breathing each other’s air, locking eyes until you’re brave enough to move again. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even stutter once you take one step closer, till you’re almost chest to chest with him. And with one more look at his molten eyes, you’re falling. 

   You wrap your arms around his back and lean into him, smelling his woodsy scent, molding yourself to his broad body as your fingers grasp at his flannel. He sits there for a minute, his arms locked at his sides, like he can’t believe what’s happening. And then slowly but surely, he’s folding his arms around you like a blanket and pulling you in, till he’s wrapped himself completely in you and blended his pain into the seams of your sweater. 

   “I’m right here, Joel. I’m here. It’s okay. Just let it out,” you whisper against his warm chest. “You stole some of my pain, now I’m going to steal some of yours.”

   Joel buries himself in you. Resting his chin on the crown of your head, he lets the tears fall, but you never minded the rain, so you let him pour himself all over you.

   “I miss her all the fuckin’ time,” he whimpers out, like someone just staked him in the heart. “And sometimes it feels like she’s still here, waiting for me to take her to her favorite dinosaur museum, but she’s gone…” 

   You feel the pain knotted in your chest, like you just took a bullet in his place. And maybe you would. If you could keep the silver from piercing his skin, you would.

   “I know,” you coo, trying your best to quell the sorrow. “It’s okay, Joel. I’m here now.” 

   He grips you tighter and hauls you against him, like a brick wall that won’t crumble. Human touch makes you shiver, but Joel keeps the chill from your bones. He’s always just so… warm. He’s a safe space and now, you’re his.

   “Jus’ don’t… don’t leave, okay?” he begs as another tear slips down his lashes. “Jus’ stay.”

   Stay. The word presses on your heartstrings, somersaults through your stomach. You want to stay. And even though part of you misses Washington, Washington doesn’t have Joel. Joel is where you belong, you think. So maybe you will stay.

   You squeeze him tighter and nuzzle your nose into his winter scent. “I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

   His lips brush over the top of your head, just the slightest so he can whisper, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

   And it’s in that moment that you shatter, like all the million parts of you when you were taken. But he puts the pieces back together one by one.

   “You won’t…” you whisper back as you close your ears and sink against him. 

   You stay like that. For seconds, minutes, maybe an hour. But you lose track of time because time doesn’t exist right now. There’s just you and Joel, and you don’t plan on letting go anytime soon. Not unless he does. 

   Stay. His words ricochet off the walls, till they blend into everything around you like paint. 

   Stay…. 

—

   It’s after eleven now. The rest of the house is asleep. Lights dim, floors creaking as you chew on your bottom lip. You’re standing outside his closed bedroom door in your pajamas—pink silk shorts and a cotton T-shirt as you hug your arms across your body. You debate turning back around, slipping under the safety of your own covers, but you’re torn. 

   After Joel told you about Ellie, he barely said a word the rest of the night. Dinner was eaten in silence, only the clinking of silverware against glass cut through the white noise. And then there was the static of the tv, his far-off gaze glued to the screen, even if he wasn’t really paying attention. He said he was tired about nine and retired to his room, leaving you alone in the living room with the weight of his sadness swimming through the air. 

   You stared at your reflection for a solid ten minutes before you got the nerve to crack the door open. Paced circles around your room till you were able to pad across the floorboards outside your room. And now, you’re here, standing in front of his bedroom, waiting for something to happen. 

   Leaving him alone in the state he’s in isn’t an option. You saw how wrecked he was when he dragged his feet up the steps, saw how worn the wrinkles around his misty eyes were. And when you went to bed, all you could feel were his arms latching around you like a teddy bear, hanging on for dear life. 

   He needs you, you think. And even though you’re scared to death of taking a step into his room, you need to try. For him, you’ll try anything. 

   Taking a deep breath, you swallow down some courage and lift your hand, till you’re leaving small knocks across his solid door. Slowly, you crack it open and call his name through the darkness. “Joel?” 

   You hear him toss in his sheets, until he’s sitting up and rubbing his eyes of sleep. “Sweetheart?” he asks as he reaches for the lamp at the side of his bed. “What’s wrong?” 

   Chewing your bottom lip, you take a hesitant step inside and leave the door cracked, slowly making your way into the middle of his room. “Nothing’s wrong,” you say, shaking your head. 

   Nothing’s wrong, but you need him, just like he needs you. 

   He blinks at you, body lax but also stiff, like he might jump up at any second. “Did you have another nightmare?” he asks as the lamp shines next to him.

   “No,” you say quietly, shaking your head. 

   He tilts his head and does a once-over, trying to figure out why you’re standing here. “Then why did you—”

   You interject and let the words slip. “Can I stay with you?”

   He blinks again, his eyes wider than they were seconds ago, like he doesn’t understand the muffling of your words. “Can you…”

   “Stay with you,” you repeat, so he’s sure he heard you right. 

   He parts his lips and breathes, just staring for a beat. Then, he nods as he curls his lips into an easy smile. “‘Course you can stay, sweetheart.” 

   “Okay…” You quietly pad across the carpet, your heart beating out of your chest as you take a steady breath and blow it out through your nose. Your heart’s thundering as you carefully slip against the cool sheets, your hand resting on the soft brown comforter. 

   You can feel Joel staring at you from over your shoulder, can feel the heat his body blankets in the vicinity. And while you’re scared for more, for this—sleeping in his bed—it’s not like this is the first time you’ve been in his arms. 

   Joel doesn’t move as you slide beneath the sheets, careful to stay on the left side of the bed while he stays on his side. And when you finally settle, he flips off the lamp and sinks back into the mattress once the room is filled with darkness. Only the moonlight spills through the window, making starry patterns on the pristine walls. 

   You hear him breathing, like you are. Slow breaths with pounding hooves across your chest. There’s an ache tugging at your core. A slip of something pulling you closer. Like the way your hand automatically grazes the back of his—skin hot like the blazing sun rays. 

   Slowly, you turn your head toward him and find him staring back at you, dark eyes that seem so soft, yet filled with turmoil from the afternoon. And you want to soothe him, want to make him feel better. Like maybe you could hug away the aftermath of Ellie’s absence in his life. 

   With a few words of encouragement to yourself and muted affirmations that you can do this, you roll onto your side and crawl over to him, till you’re blanketed on top of him with your body. 

   Sighing, Joel weaves a hand through your hair and strokes lightly down your back while his other arm wraps around you. “Sweetheart,” he coos into the shell of your ear. You melt into the raspy sound of his voice and look up, till you’re face to face with those syrupy brown eyes. 

   “Joel?”

   “Hmm?” he hums, seeming to be enraptured by your eyes.

   “You remember that day in the truck that you told me I didn’t have to be alone?”

   “Yeah, I remember.“ He tilts his head to the side and asks, “How come?”

   Swallowing, you take a deep breath and quietly say, “Well, you don’t have to be alone either.”

  He stares at you a beat—mouth parted and eyes so soft that you could melt into them. And they’re all coated in held back tears, all starry just for you. “C’mere, sweet girl.” Joel tugs you against his chest and wraps his arms tight around you, like he may never let go. You hope he doesn’t. His lips brush lightly over the crown of your head, and you revel in the feel of it, of the hunger that stirs in your chest to be needed. 

   He needs you. 

   And with that Southern drawl of his, he whispers the words you’ve been waiting to hear. “You’re exactly what I needed…”

   You sink into the feel of his white T-shirt and thread your fingers around him as you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his woodsy scent that encompasses you. 

   “I needed you, too,” you whisper. And as he hugs you tighter, you drift off into a blissful sleep, wrapped in Joel like a cocoon. 

   Maybe you’ve always needed him, just like he needs you…

—

   Sunlight filters through the window as you blink your eyes open, rubbing the sleep away while a yawn falls from your lips. You take a second to fully open your eyes, to register you’re in Joel’s bed, still curled into the side of his warm body. 

   Smiling to yourself, you see he’s still fast asleep. His chest rises and falls in cadence as slow breaths pass his lips. He looks so beautiful sleeping. Messy curls against his pillow, eyelids fluttering like he’s dreaming, his arm still tucked snugly around your hip. And it feels right. This feels right. Even if you’re scared of getting close to someone after the trauma you’ve endured, you think you’d like to stay right here, tucked into Joel’s side. 

   You outline the curves of his face with the trace of your fingers, mapping every wrinkle and tilt of his mouth like they’re stars lining the night skies. When you lightly dance over his salt-and-pepper scruff, he rolls a little to the left side and falls back into stillness, letting you scratch along his jawline. 

   You could brush along his lips with yours. That’s how close he is. Close enough to taste. You almost want to graze your lips across his, but you don’t. Instead, you take one more good look at him bleached in sunlight and slip out of his arms, careful not to wake him. After he’s had so many restless nights, you just want to let him sleep. He needs it. 

   Suddenly, you get this bright idea in your head to do something nice for him. You’re sure he’d love to wake up to a fresh cup of coffee and some pancakes. He’s been doing most of that lately, so now it’s your turn to show him how much you appreciate him. This is something you think he’ll love. 

   Slipping one of his blue flannels on, you tiptoe out of his room and hurry to your bathroom. When you flip on the light, you run the brush through your hair, scrub your face clean, and take the toothbrush across your teeth. When you think you’re good enough, you grab your phone and make your way down the hallway, to the kitchen. 

   Once you’ve flipped the kitchen lights on and pulled back the curtains, you get to work. With an old 80’s pop song on, you bop your way through starting the coffee and turn on the stove as you mix batter and blueberries together. You talk yourself through mixing the ingredients and accidentally get a little flour on your cheek, but you brush it off because you’re having fun. For once in your life, you’re learning to enjoy little bits of your morning routine. Even if you’re still learning step by step how to do life again, you think Joel’s teaching you, with his hand in yours. And Tess, she’s helping you swim your way through therapy. You think maybe, just maybe, this is all working as it should. 

—

   Joel rolls on his back and throws his arms over his head, stretching as he rubs his tired eyes awake. Sunlight fills the room in a bright glow, but when he turns his head to the left, he sees empty sheets. There’s just an imprint of you still curled to his side. 

   He sighs and falls to his back again, ghosting his hand over the slept-in sheets where your body laid just minutes ago. There’s an ache in his chest, something like maybe he misses you. But also, he feels so full because he had you wrapped in his arms all night long. You took the sting away, pulled on his heartstrings just enough for him to see the sun again. 

   You did that. You showed him the light. He saw it in the way you looked at him—all doe-eyed while you nuzzled against his chest. You saw him for what he is—a lonely wolf that lost one of his own. But now, he thinks you might’ve filled that hole. The one he’s had speared open since Ellie died. But now, you’re giving him something to hold onto. You’ve given him hope…

   With a low groan, he hauls himself up and makes his way toward the door, dragging his feet with a smile on his face. “Now, where did you go?” he asks himself, chuckling when he slips through the door and sees that your room is empty. 

   A clink of pots from the kitchen makes him turn his head toward the staircase. And when he hears soft humming coming from that direction, he can’t help the smile that pulls across his lips. 

   Found you. 

   Slipping into a stool unnoticed, he leans against the kitchen island and watches you flit around the kitchen like a dancer. Sunlight coats your skin in a golden hue. Your hair bounces with every step as you pour powdered sugar into a bowl. Your head bops to the beat of an old pop hit as you grab for a spoon, whisking eggs together in a bowl. 

   Joel can’t help but to feel a warmth burning in his chest, heating his cheeks when he watches you glide like a fairy through the kitchen. You’re absolutely breathtaking, he thinks. The most free he’s ever seen you. And he likes this. Likes seeing you so alive after months of nightmares he couldn’t quite tame. But look at you now, spreading your wings, taking a leap of faith across lakes of water, all while wearing his flannel. He kinda likes that. Seeing you wear his clothes. Makes him feel like he’s got a crush, and maybe he does. 

   When the song ends and another begins, he clears his throat and watches you about drop the bowl you’re holding. Your eyes go wide, and you gasp. “Oh, Joel! I didn’t know you were there.” 

   He chuckles under his breath and shakes his head. “Figured I’d just watch you for a minute. You seemed in your element.” 

   You set the mixing bowl on the edge of the counter and smile shyly his way, pulling on the flannel that’s wrapped around your body. “Could’ve said something,” you say, shyly fluttering your pretty eyelashes up at him. 

   “Good morning, sweetheart,” he smiles, watching you play absentmindedly with some fringe at the bottom of your sleeper shorts. 

   “Morning,” you say with a small smile across your pink lips. Lips that look like morning dew. “You sleep okay?”

   He nods. “Best sleep I’ve had in a long time.” 

   There you go, smiling again, brightening up his morning yet again. “Here, I made you some coffee,” you say as you pour in the black liquid in a white mug, letting the steam billow through the air. You slide it over to him, till it’s safe in his hands. 

   The side of his mouth twitches into a smirk as his eyes slide over you. “Was nice of you to do that.”

   “Hope you like it,” you smile.

   “You made it, so ‘course I’ll like it.” He tips the mug up and takes a generous sip, letting the warm liquid saturate his taste buds. “Mmm. Yeah. Jus’ how I like it,” he murmurs as he takes another gulp. 

   “Glad you like it,” you giggle.

   He chuckles as he notices the flour on your cheek, how it sticks out. And just before he decides to brush it away, he taps his finger to his own cheek. “You’ve got a little flour right—”

   “Oh!” You frantically wipe it off with the palm of your hand and instantly blush. He thinks you’re fucking adorable all rosy-cheeked and embarrassed. “Must’ve got carried away with the cooking.” 

   Another laugh and he’s running a hand through his messy locks. “Must’ve,” he smiles. 

   There’s a moment between the two of you. Something hanging in the air that isn’t heavy, doesn’t have any weight to it. But it shines like the sun, blooms through his nervous system. He thinks he’s fallen in love. 

   You turn back around and flip some fluffy pancakes onto a plate and bring him some, including a bottle of syrup and a spoonful of butter.

   His eyes flick over your beautiful form, taking you in like you’re a breath of fresh air. Like you’re a garden full of roses. “You know, you keep stealing my flannels and I’ll have to buy more.”

   You turn around and smirk up at him, a brow raised, eyes bright. “You want it back?” 

   He chuckles, shakes his head at you. “No. Keep it. Looks good on you.” 

   And it does. His clothes always look good on you.

   You tuck a lock behind your ear and blush, smiling sweetly as you blink up at him. “Thanks.” 

   “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smiles. And when you turn back around, he doesn’t focus on the pancakes or fresh cup of coffee in front of him. He keeps his eyes on the woman he’s falling head over heels for. A woman he saved, who also ended up saving himself.

   If I’m the moon, she must be the sun that coated me in light, he thinks to himself. 

Tag List: @clawdee @jellybeanxc @lotusbxtch @thebeldroramscal @laurrrra

@whxtedreams @sawymredfox @sanarsi @mountainsandmayhem @bitchytimetravelqueen

@southernbe @katinasweeney @pixelspunk @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

@christinamadsen @aurorawritestoescape @evolnoomym @littlevenicebitch69 @alltheirdamn

@inept-the-magnificent @maried01 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @fandomdaydreamer @elliaze

@callmecath1 @kulekehe @yorkshirewench @untamedheart81

@tateypots @stylesispunk @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @mellymbee @pascalsbae

@locaparapedrito @ladyofmidlo72 @readingiskeepingmegoing @copperhalfcent @axshadows

@here-briefly @cozylittlepigeon @pastawench @keylimebeag @joelsoftie

@romanarose @captainredspade @megangovier @bishtrouille @almodovarispunk

@papipascaaaal @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler @bambisweethearts @puddles221b

@valkyreally @northennlights

[writingwisterias]

sorry I've like never requested a fic before so I'm scared ngl LMAO

I don't have the talents to write well so I was thinking of asking someone who obviously does

An anal fic for leon? I've never seen any fics Like that

The plot can be upto you I don't mind ♡ I'm embarrassed to be doing this tbh sorry 😞✨️✨️

Hiii lovely, I'm honored to be your first request 💕!! I'm so sorry this took so long, don't be embarrassed I hope you enjoy it 😘💕 thank you for the request ily. I hope it's all good it's the first time I've wrote something like this

Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MNDI, Anal, Comfort, Toys, Gentle sex, Soft Dom! Leon, Praise kink, Inexperienced!Reader, Implied age-gap, First time for everything,

Taglist: @senawashere @danigirls-missions @lxzy-bxby @074calicocat @gut1ess @shymoob @vesperaominosum

Since being with Leon he had been nothing but gentle, his hands exploring in places you wanted him to touch, never straying any further than the boundaries he instructed that you placed. He was your first and boy did you strike gold with that; Leon was patient, willing, kind and loving. Providing you with the aftercare you needed whilst adapting his own needs to fit yours all in an effort to make your time comfortable. This behaviour didn't stray when it came to the topic of things you wanted to try to further your experience. Whenever you read it in one of the smut books you liked so much or you saw it online in a late night scroll online. He loved the fact that you trusted him enough to teach you the things you wanted to learn, whenever it was exploring a new kink or position. He admired the attention you had to focus on new things in an attempt to please him, asking to try out the things he enjoyed as well as exploring the ones you had found on your own accord.

His role remained primarily as the researcher, spending any downtime he had during missions to look up porn or other websites to gain knowledge in the topics to make it safe for you. Even going as far as bringing one of the books on the plane because it must have been good if he watched you squirm as you read it.

So when he found you all nervous and shy again, approaching him with your cheeks flushed before you even spoke the sentence, he found himself getting excited to hear the new thing you wanted to try. This was his favourite time of the week, when he finally made it home and you'd approach him with your hands playing with each other nervously as your leg bounced on the spot. 

"What would you like to try this week, Love?" Leon asked, his hands falling on top of yours with a soft smile plastered on his features. You concentrated on the small movements of his thumb, the repeated swipes as he did in an attempt to calm your nerves. "It's okay, you can tell me and we can work it out." He coached further, his cock already stiffening in anticipation as he waited for your admission. Your breath quivered as it fell from your lips, you teeth trapping one of them before the inner battle you had ended and you finally looked at his eyes. "I want to try anal."

You could have approached the topic a bit more gently in hindsight, maybe not been as blunt with the statement considering the reaction you gained from him. Leon's eyes widened, blinking dumbfounded as he looked at you, processing the statement as if it was some inspirational quote that got you thinking. There was no hiding the tent in his trousers now, the bulge he was now sporting twitching like mad underneath the years old sweatpants. He shifted his body, his hips jolting up in a motion that had your eyes following it like a cat playing with a laser. His hands began pulling you in his lap, squeezing your hips as he pressed the prominent display of his excitement against you.

"Are you sure, love? It is intense and can be painful." He asked, jolting his hardened cock against your pussy to direct your eyes to his. You nodded, smiling slightly as he hadn't rejected the idea yet and with his thickening cock beneath you it was a sign he was all for it. "Have you done it before?" You asked him, your hands falling to his lower stomach as you looked at him. His grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly as he shook his head, it was only fair that he matched your level of honesty. Someone willing to do this was hard to come by it seemed, in Leon's life that is anyway. He pondered about his process and how he was going to approach the situation with his limited amount of knowledge. "Give me a few days to research baby and I'll do it with you." He replied, a soft kiss placed against your neck. Another one following with more pressure, a hot trail leading straight towards that sweet spot underneath your ear. Not even a moment later his resistance gave up and you were whisked away towards the bedroom. It would be a shame to waste a perfectly hard boner after all.

It wasn't even a few weeks later when Leon bought the subject up again, standing in the doorway holding a small cardboard box. It wasn't unusual for him to buy toys for the two of you to play around with per your request, except you knew what you were in for tonight when he tipped the contents onto the cotton sheets. Various types of lube. "I figured we could have a few different ones to try but we will start with the basics for now" He instructed.

Leon was gentle with your preparation, softer kisses that almost felt like a ghost was touching you. His hands cupped your breasts gently, thumbs brushing over your nipples watching as they hardened beneath his touch. He had your back pressed against his chest, your legs spread out over his displaying your gushing pussy towards the door. A sight he has seen multiple times when he returns during your own personal exploration time with the toys he treated you with. Your gasps and small whimpers were appreciated as always whilst his hands continued with their exploration, the sounds were always a much loved record he wished to have on repeat.

Leon danced his fingers southwards drawing small circles until they finally reached your folds.He groaned when his fingertips were met with the slick of your arousal. "Such a good girl getting ready for me." He whispered, his teeth nipping against your neck causing you to squirm against him. You nodded eagerly accepting his praise like you were some loyal dog, you were easy to handle as he moved you. Working with him like always to get in the position he needed you in, your back was arched beautifully as he ran his hand along it. “Perfect, stay just like that. I’ll be gentle as always." Leon prompted. 

His hands left you for a moment but his cock didn’t, the tip connecting the two of you with small globs of pre-cum that he eagerly spewed. Normally he would have made you work his cock, smoothing your hand along his length with the surprising cold lube. However with a sight like this, with you easing into the submissive headspace he loved so much, he didn’t need you to do anything other than look pretty and sound pretty. He warned you of his every move, interesting himself on how to deal with the situation just so he never got you by surprise. Once you were both prepped his fingers easily found your clit, working the sensitive bud of nerves as his cock began to intrude on your hole. 

The stretch was painful at first, your fists clenching the sheets with an iron grip as your body subconsciously tried to get away from the pain, however his consistent stream of pleasure through your clit caused you to stay. Your pussy fluttering to be filled, to be stretched with his cock that was currently working on your asshole. The lube made his movements easy, as his tip finally entered, the tightness feeling similar to when he first breached your pussy. Your virgin holes are now tainted by him. “I know baby, you are doing so well, I’m proud of you.” He continued to praise as he fed you more inches. The burn was intense but so was the pleasure that coursed around your clit. 

The small, tight circles he drew around the sensitive bud was the perfect distraction towards the stretching pain he had caused. Whilst you focused on the pleasure he was offering you with his fingers, Leon took deep breaths, willing his impending orgasm away as you clenched onto him tightly. He waited for your approval, the instruction to finally move at a steady pace. He wouldn’t go hard tonight, he would be gentle and patient. A thing you always trusted him to be as you both explored new things. “If only you knew how good you felt baby, this is fuck–” Leon grunted as he slowly jolted his hips beginning the movement in shallow thrusts. You watched as you arched your back further, disgruntled noises slowly changing to that sweet tune he was familiar with. Your body responded faster than your words could. He could feel your clit twitch against his finger tips, your hips eagerly responding to his quickening pace. If he was to die here he would be happy, he wouldn't complain as you squeezed him tightly. 

“Does this feel good baby? You gotta talk to me, how am I meant to know?” He whispered next to your ear. His body encased you, covering you from the world as he fell deeper infatuated with you. You accepted it willingly, tilting your head for a messy kiss, tears spilling down your cheeks as they flushed with heat. “Feels– so good, more leon please.”

He didn’t hesitate as his hips snapped harder, assaulting you with his thrusts as he focused on drilling himself. You met his force with deep,guttural moans; sounds he had never heard leave your lips before. Despite not being inside your fluttering walls he could tell you were close, your breaths lost their volume, your hands outstretched like a cat pawing at the sheets like your life depended on it. “You can cum inside me today” you whimpered, almost pleading to feel his load spill out of you. Leon hadn’t even considered that but as he felt your body tense and fall against the bed he drove himself deep before spilling his warmth inside you. 

Just like always he worked quickly with your aftercare, running to the bathroom to quickly clean himself up and grab a warm cloth. He wiped the spend he left behind, ignoring his stirring cock at the sight of it. Leon’s touch like always was gentle, only intrusive when he needed to be as he helped you calm down. “I’m gonna feel this tomorrow when I sit down.” You whispered, a small chuckle following your weak complaint. Leon’s arms circled around you, trapping your body in a safety blanket of his scent. His kisses were firmer, demanding your body to ease out of the high it circulated in, he looked at you whilst propped up on one elbow. The lighting of the room caused his features to angelic as he gazed at you. “Are you okay? Did you enjoy it?” He asked, smoothing his hair. “It was perfect, thank you. Did you enjoy it as well?” 

His stupid smirk was your only answer. 

[sturniqlo]

GOLDEN— M.S

pairing: boyfriend!matt x girlfriend!reader

summary: where you begin to experience fears, formed from past relationships, about you new relationship with matt that is currently in the honeymoon phase

cw: self doubt, relationship doubt, fluff

wc: around 1000ish?

fine line writing marathon

you and matt had just celebrated your six month anniversary a week ago. it was sweet and simple, something you both liked. you two had a night in at matt's place that included takeout from a restaurant near matt's apartment, talking about random things, many kisses, and a kiss that eventually led to more.

but in your mind, passing the six month mark in relationships was something you now... dreaded. for you, the six month mark was when it all started to fall apart in your past relationships. you didn't mean to think this, you didn't want to, especially not with matt. the fear just creeped in naturally.

every relationship before matt always started off with strong passion and strong promises, which you eventually realized that it was love bombing. and every one of those men had left you with less and less of yourself than you started with.

but matt was different, right?

matt knew you were scared, you told him even though it was something you were ashamed of, but he never judged you for it, never. instead, he listened, he listened to your fears and understood where you were coming from. still, no matter how many times he told you that he wanted you, just you, there was always that small voice in your head whispering those doubts. it was telling you that he'd change. you tried to not listen to it, you didn't want to listen.

"hey, pretty girl." matt said with a huge smile as you opened the passenger door. his voice warm and playful, as it always was after not seeing you for some time. today was going to be a simple hang out with matt, there was nothing planned, which made it more exciting for you. "hi, pretty boy." you smiled back, the nickname had started off as a playful joke to copy him, but it eventually turned to something permanent. you slid into the passenger seat, you heart fluttering. matt leaned over, his hand reaching gently for your chin. he kissed you, it was sweet, gentle, and refreshing.

"missed you." he murmured, his forehead rest lightly on yours. "i missed you too." your voice no louder than a whisper. he gave you chin a light squeeze before letting go. "ready?" you nodded, trying to swallow the unease that started to build up. as the car pulled out, you kept your eyes on the road even though you weren't the one driving. matt reached out and rested his hand on your thigh, you hand followed and landed on top of his hand, fiddling with his fingers.

"so, how was last night with your friends? had fun?" for a second, that unease went away. "oh, yeah! we went to my place after the mall and we just watched movies and gossiped. it was nice. although i think the neighbors heard my laugh all night." you said, looking at him. matt chuckled. "i like hearing your laugh. s'my favorite sound." your cheeks flushed. you turned your face to the window so he wouldn't see the wha you were smiling.

"what about you? do anything fun yesterday?" you finally looked in his direction. "nah," he shook his head. "just stayed in and hopped on the game. boring night without you." he looked over at you at the red light, his gaze lingering. "i was thinking about you the whole time. thought about calling you all night."

"why didn't you?" you fiddled with his bracelet. "wanted to give you some uninterrupted time with your friends. i know you missed hanging out with them." that warmed your heart.

after lunch, you and matt went shopping for a bit before returning back to his place, you were now curled up into his side on his couch. your legs were tangled with his beneath a shared a blanket. the tv played a show that you two were now not paying attention to. his arm rested around you, and your hand rested on his jaw as your guys' lips slotted with each other. after some time, you pulled away with light pecks.

"matt?" you said quietly. "yeah?" his thumb began to rub against your arm. "do you think..." you hesitated. "do you think we're going to be okay?" he furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "you mean like... us?" you nodded. "i think we're already okay." he said. "but if you mean long term, yeah i do." your gaze shifted down to your hands fidgeting with the blanket.

"it's just, i don't know why... there always seems to be this invisible expiration date for me, but i really like you and— and i don't want to keep feeling this way. i really like where we're at." you looked up at him, your eyes slightly glassy. his face softened. "i know, pretty. i can see it, but i want you to know that im not going anywhere. i don't know what our future looks like, but just know that i want it with you." his hand came up to cradle your jaw.

"you say that now..." that familiar feeling came creeping up again. "and i'll say it tomorrow too. and the day after that." he said. you leaned into him, breathing his scent in. "what if i never stop being scared?" you mumbled against his hoodie. "i'll keep reminding you that you're safe with me." he kissed your hair. "however long it takes, i'll always remind you."

there was a long pause. and then he said something for the first time.

"i love you." your breath hitched and you looked up at him. you had been holding in those words for weeks, probably even longer. you had never said those words to anymore before. but with matt, it felt so simple. his eyes searched yours, opened and patient, just like he was. and maybe that's why you were scared, he was so open. "i love you too." you broke out into a smile, and so did he. slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to your for a quick kiss. "you don't have to be afraid of me." he said softly, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"this isn't going to be like your past relationships, baby. i promise." he pecked your nose. you nodded, a tear sliding down your cheek, and he brushed it away with his thumb. "you mean it?" your voice cracked, a part of you need to hear it again. "i've never meant anything more. i love you and im not going anywhere."

for the rest of the night, you and matt kept repeating those three words over and over in between kisses. and just like that, your fears have disappeared and all you see is matt and your future with him.

what once was dull and covered in fear was now golden.

𐔌 . ⋮ jess' note .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

AHHH!! i'm so excited to start this marathon☺️ lmk how you like this :D get ready for tomorrows 'watermelon sugar' part which is about sweetness... and also the female orgasm, like harry said!!! his words not mine🙂‍↕️

[pheastinyworld]

happy new year ❀•°•───────•

request: oooo maybe gabe and reader after he won world juniors? or maybe even after the canada vs usa win on new years eve

Word count: 1.68k

Warnings: none i think, um kinda not proof read cause i need to go write an essay :)

author's note: "thank you for this unseen picture of gabe on the left em" we all say in unison to @perre4ult . seriously feeding us. hope you like it!!

| phe's main masterlist |

it was loud, deafening even and the game had just started. you weren't sure if it was the nerves making your mind run at ten times speed or the sheer volume of the crowd that made it hard to think. 

the red and white vastly outnumbered the usa section of the crowd; it was in ottawa, what were you expecting. yet, you wore your boyfriend’s jersey proudly and a usa scarf that matched with gabe’s sister; liliane insisted on buying you one “to twin”. the scarf had become something you could clutch at tightly, tugging at the ends every time a canadian player came close to dropping one in the back of the net. 

ryan’s girlfriend was with you as well, his family sitting with gabe’s, all mixed with anxiety and pride. she leaned over during the first period and yelled out to you despite sitting inches apart. 

“can you hear them chirping at them again?! I want to go grab some of their posters and shove it in their faces.” she mumbled the last part, not really wanting her boyfriend's family to hear her.

you rolled your eyes and nodded, but if you were being honest, you were so nervous about the game that being annoyed at the opposing teams’ fans wasn't even an option right now. 

ten minutes in, and the first power play went to the boys, you and everyone around you were nearly leaping out of their seats. “here we go,” liliane muttered, adjusting her scarf like it was a superstition.

cole scored and everyone around you was on their feet, celebrating loudly. 

gabe’s two brothers were shouting, so was his dad. the atmosphere was something you never experienced back in the college games in boston; sure they were heated, exciting, but it wasn't like this. 

turning to liliane and gabe’s mom, you spotted the resemblance; the two were bouncing their knees and analysing the game with precision, exuding the same energy gabe would have on the bench. she turned to glance at you with a wheary look, “okay so if this goes to fucking overtime i might pass out.” 

you laughed at her as she whipped her head back around again, not wanting to miss a thing. 

in the third period, canada bit back and your heart had dropped. but before you could get too nervous, usa was taking another two and the crowd around you was erupting in cheers, frantic arms clinging onto yours from either side of you. 

“they’re gonna take the win, i know it.” liliane muttered, tapping repeatedly at your shoulder from excitement. 

“yeah i think they just migh- holy shit. ryan!” you were yelling before you even realised it, ryan sending it into an empty net. everyone around you was up on their feet, shouting out it was almost unhinged. 

the game ended and the sea of red booed, loud and bitter, already making their way out of the stadium. but you didn't even notice, looking down and trying to find gabe in the crowd swarming the goalie. 

when you finally spotted him, you felt all your leftover nerves ease right away; helmet off, hair damp and sprawled in every direction, smiling as widely as possible as he hugged his boston college linemate. you couldn't stop staring at him, totally fixed on him in his element. 

“you know, if you stare at him any longer you're gonna end up with gabe shaped eye balls.” liliane chuckled at you, making you turn away with an embarrassed look, a pink hue tickling at the skin of your cheeks, only making her laugh even more. 

you all agreed to slowly make your way out of your seats, knowing the boys were going to take a while to shower, maybe do media and celebrate their win. 

when gabe finally walked out, arm slung around ryan’s shoulder, he spotted his family. he had been just slightly nervous for you to travel with him and be left alone with his whole family for so long, knowing you yourself were worried and wanted to still make a good impression despite having already met them before. but it brought a smile to his face as you looked more than comfortable talking to his mom and his brother jeremy. 

his sister saw him first and ran to bear hug him, shouting something in his face, making his eyes go wide, and ruffling his damp hair. you stayed back with ryan’s girlfriend, wanting his family to have their moment with him first over anyone else. he got congratulated by all of his siblings and his parents before he turned to you, still smiling just the way you like it. 

you didn't even need to move, gabe was the one rushing towards you, picking you up and spinning you around, both of you laughing like idiots. he ignored the whistle he got from one of his brothers when he let your feet settle back onto the ground and pecked your lips.

“i cant believe it!” you didn't think you could smile any harder, biting your bottom lip in a stupid attempt to settle it, “you looked so good out there.”

you saw the blush spread onto his cheeks as he tilted his head to the side and grinned at you, trying to sound confident, “yeah?”

“very.” you nodded your head, bumping the white cap he sported. 

he let out an amused laugh, full of love, as he leant down to peck your warm cheeks before pulling you into his side and walking over to his parents. 

“pictures please!” liliane shouted, pulling out her phone. 

not wanting to encroach, you stepped out of gabe’s hold and put out your open hand to liliane, silently offering to take the photo of their family. 

she handed you the phone happily and took her place next to jacob, the whole perreault family bunching up and pulling identical smiles. you snapped a bunch, making sure liliane had enough to choose from. 

“now, one with you sweetie.” gabe’s mum ushered you in and you raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised and turned to look at who gabe sent you a reassuring look before shouting out for james hagen to take the phone from his girlfriend. 

gabe brought you back into his side, squeezing your hip and pressing a kiss onto the top of your head as james shouted a, “say cheese guys!” 

the team had booked out an entire conference room in the hotel they were staying at, knowing that the boys' families were all here on new years eve as well. someone had snuck in sparklers, something which definitely wasn't allowed. 

the entire team was still running on adrenaline, bouncing off the walls and hyping up ryan while he stood on a chair and sang with all of his chest. 

“he’s too drunk to even get past the first verse.” you laughed, watching him nearly stumble and almost fall on trey, who had his arms out already trying to shield himself. 

“i’ll bet you twenty he finishes the song. i have faith in him.” ryan’s girlfriend nodded confidently, although giggling as she brought her drink up to her lips, watching ryan sputter out incoherent words, voice cracking as he tried to reach a high note. 

“you have a bet then.” you laughed, “one that i’m for sure winning.”

you were mid-cheersing your drinks together to bind this drunken bet when you felt a pair of very familiar arms snake around your waist from behind and a chin pressing down onto your shoulder.  

“hey baby,” gabe murmured into your ear, slightly slurred, smiling at ryan’s girlfriend in acknowledgment, before pulling you back tightly against his back, “haven't seen you in like forever.”

you rolled your eyes, seeing the girl opposite you smirk before turning to go record her boyfriend singing, “you saw me about fifteen minutes ago.” you replied.

he groaned lightly, dropping his head so his cheek rested against your shoulder. you melted back into his touch, reaching your hand up behind you to hold onto him in any way possible. “are you whining gabe perreault?”

“nuh uh,” gabe responded, beginning to sway the two of you side to side, “well, kinda. But, in my defense, i needed to make sure i was with you right at midnight… and we have about three minutes until then.”

“needed to be with me, huh?” you teased.

“mhmm.” gabe dragged out, pressing a gentle kiss against your shoulder.

“you look really pretty tonight.” he tightened his arms around you, knowing you and your tendency to get flustered and blushy when he complimented you. 

“remind me how clingy you get next time you drink again so i can brace myself.” you snorted, chuckling as he huffed at you.

“not just tonight,” he said with a crooked grin, feeling the sudden need to make his girl even more flustered, “y’look so good all the time, it drives me insane.”

your eyes widen, feeling your face get hot whole gabe let out a boyish giggle into the skin of your shoulder.

“thank you for coming tonight.” he muttered, his voice a little more serious now despite it being raw and raspy from yelling celebration with the boys. “i mean it.”

“i wouldn't have missed it for the world.” you replied sincerely, turning around in his arms and snaking your own around his neck, looking up at him with wide eyes. god, it was unfair how pretty he was. 

somewhere in the background, someone started to count down from ten. gabe’s fingers found yours, lacing them together as he jogged over to the big group filled with players and family. 

when midnight hit, the room erupted in cheers, half the boys screamed “HAPPY NEW YEEEAARS” definitely off-key and a few cracks here and there. you turned to your boyfriend, and the way he looked at you filled your chest with so much love you thought your heart might jump out and land on the floor. but when gabe kissed you, just like always, you felt at ease, tingles flooding your body.

“happy 2025 baby.” he didn't even pull away, mumbling into the kiss before nipping your bottom lip playfully as you giggled.

“happy new year baby.”

[mrs-delaney]

Exploration

🏈 Joe Burrow x Y/N | 14k-ish words

request: Hi, whenever you have time, and if you want, could you write a Joe story?(He single and enjoying his single life with girls and meets the main character (because she moved to Cincinnati or something), who's bisexual, has a girlfriend, but they're in an open relationship (and things start to happen with Joe. She knows she's bisexual but she's never tried it with a guy because she's never been attracted to anyone enough.

P.S.: Personally, I'm also part of the community, but the first male crush that makes me feel something is Joe, and I'd like to see a story like that. 😊

Author’s Note: I was so excited to write this one. As someone who identifies as pan, it meant a lot to explore a story that reflects the fluidity of attraction and the possibility of something unexpected feeling totally right. I also really loved writing a dynamic where an open relationship isn’t about drama or conflict, but trust and support—and that it still ends happily, with everyone respected and cared for. That kind of softness and emotional honesty feels rare sometimes, and I wanted to write something that holds space for it.

This has barely been edited, so please forgive the mess. I was just too excited to get it out. Thank you for reading. Thank you for requesting this.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: read my other stories :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: join my taglist :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

💭 talk to me sweet

Y/N Y/L/N adjusted her polo shirt one more time as she walked through the parking lot of Camargo Club, grateful she'd chosen comfortable golf shoes over anything with heels. Three weeks into her new role as Community Impact Director at the Tri-State Food Bank, and she was still getting used to representing the organization at events like this. Back in Portland, she'd known every donor, every partner, every face in the room. Here in Cincinnati, everything felt fresh and slightly overwhelming.

The Joe Burrow Foundation's annual golf tournament and luncheon was her first major networking event, and she was determined to make a good impression. The foundation had been one of the food bank's most consistent supporters, and Y/N had spent her first few weeks getting up to speed on their partnership through grant applications and impact reports, but she'd never met Joe himself.

She pulled her phone from her purse as she approached the clubhouse, checking for any last-minute messages from Alex.

Alex: How's the schmoozing going? Remember, you're amazing at this even when you feel like you're not.

Y/N: Haven't even started yet. Wish me luck.

Alex: You don't need luck. You need to remember that you're passionate about what you do and that's infectious. Also, if anyone's rude to you, I'll fly there and fight them.

Y/N smiled at her phone. Even from two time zones away while Alex finished wrapping up her own work in Portland, her girlfriend had an uncanny ability to calm her nerves. They'd been together for three years, and Alex had been nothing but supportive when this opportunity came up—even encouraging Y/N to take the leap despite the temporary long-distance situation it would create.

The clubhouse was busy with activity as Y/N checked in, receiving a name tag and information packet. The morning golf portion was already underway, but the networking lunch was where she needed to focus. She'd prepared talking points about the food bank's current initiatives and had memorized statistics about food insecurity in the tri-state area, but mostly she hoped to make genuine connections with people who cared about the same issues she did.

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A woman in her fifties approached with a warm smile. "I'm Robin Burrow. We've been emailing back and forth about today's event."

"Robin! It's nice to finally meet you in person." Y/N shook her hand, immediately feeling more at ease. Robin had been nothing but welcoming in their email exchanges, and there was something naturally maternal and approachable about her in person.

"How are you settling in? Big change from Portland, I imagine."

"It is, but good so far. Everyone's been really welcoming, and I'm excited to dig into the work here. The need is significant, but so is the community support."

"That's exactly what we like to hear. Come on, let me introduce you to some folks. The golfers will be coming in soon for lunch, and then we'll have the presentation portion."

Robin led her around the room, introducing her to local business leaders, other nonprofit directors, and foundation staff. Y/N found herself relaxing into the conversations, her passion for the work overriding her nervousness about being the new person in the room.

"The food bank's mobile pantry program has been incredible," she found herself explaining to a group of potential donors. "We're able to reach communities that might not otherwise have access to our main distribution center. Last month alone, we served over fifteen hundred families through the mobile units."

"That's incredible," said one of the men, a local restaurant owner. "What's the biggest challenge?"

"Honestly? Awareness. People think of food insecurity and picture homelessness, but the reality is that one in eight people in our region faces food insecurity. That includes working families, seniors on fixed incomes, college students. It doesn't always look like what people expect."

The conversation continued, and Y/N felt that familiar energy that came from talking about work she truly believed in. This was why she'd moved across the country—not just for the career opportunity, but for the chance to make a real impact in a new community.

"Looks like the golfers are starting to come in," Robin said, approaching the group. "Y/N, I'd love for you to meet Joe when he gets a chance. He's been really invested in understanding the impact of our donations, and I think you two would have a great conversation."

Y/N nodded, trying to ignore the small flutter of nerves. She'd googled Joe Burrow when she'd first learned about the foundation partnership, of course. Hard not to notice that he was attractive, but she'd been more focused on understanding the foundation's giving patterns and focus areas. From what she could tell, they seemed to prioritize genuine community impact over flashy PR opportunities.

She was refilling her water glass when she noticed a small group entering from the golf course. Even if she hadn't known who Joe Burrow was, she would have noticed him—something about the way he carried himself, relaxed but confident. He was listening intently to something one of his golf partners was saying, a slight smile on his face.

He looked different than in the professional photos she'd seen. His hair was slightly messy from the golf course, and there was something approachable about him that the carefully posed media shots couldn't capture.

"Joe!" Robin called out, and he looked up, scanning the room until his eyes found hers. "Come meet Y/N from the food bank when you get a chance."

He nodded, finishing his conversation before making his way over. Y/N found herself straightening her blazer again, but not from nerves this time—from something else entirely that she couldn't quite name.

"Hey," he said, extending his hand. His handshake was firm, warm. "Joe. Thanks for being here today."

"Thanks for having me. And seriously, thank you for what the foundation does for us. It makes a huge difference."

"I'd love to hear more about that, actually. My mom mentioned you just moved here from Portland?"

"Three weeks ago. Still getting my bearings, but the work is incredible here. Your foundation's support has allowed us to expand our programming in ways that are really making a difference."

Joe's attention was completely focused on her as she spoke, a kind of intentional listening that was surprisingly intense. "What kind of expansion?"

"Well, the mobile pantry program I was just telling someone about—that's partially funded by foundation grants. But we've also been able to hire two new community liaisons to help connect people with other resources. Food insecurity is often connected to other challenges—housing instability, healthcare access, employment issues. Having people who can help navigate those systems makes a huge difference."

"That makes a lot of sense. I hadn't thought about the wraparound aspect as much."

"Most people don't, which is totally understandable. When you think 'food bank,' you think food. But often the families we serve need support in multiple areas."

Joe nodded thoughtfully. "How do you measure impact on something like that? The community liaison work?"

Y/N felt herself light up. This was exactly the kind of question that showed he was thinking seriously about the work, not just writing checks. "It's definitely more complex than counting meals distributed. We track things like how many families we're able to connect with healthcare enrollment, or job placement services, or housing assistance. But we also do follow-up surveys to understand whether people feel more stable six months later, whether kids are performing better in school when their families have more food security."

"Damn, that's a lot more involved than I realized."

"It really is. Food insecurity isn't just about hunger—it's about stability, dignity, opportunity. A kid who's worried about whether there's going to be dinner at home can't focus on homework. A parent who's choosing between groceries and prescription medication is dealing with stress that affects every part of their life."

Joe was quiet for a moment, processing what she'd said. "I grew up in a small town in Ohio. Different situation, but... I saw kids at school whose families were struggling, you know? It stays with you."

There was something in his voice—not quite vulnerability, but a recognition that felt personal. Y/N found herself studying his face, seeing something beyond the confident athlete she'd expected.

"So that's why this stuff matters to you."

"Yeah, it does. I've been fortunate, obviously. But I remember what it felt like to see friends whose families were struggling, and feeling like there wasn't much I could do about it. Now there is."

There was something genuine in his voice that caught her off guard. Y/N had worked with plenty of donors over the years—some genuinely committed, others more interested in the tax benefits or social cachet. Joe fell clearly into the first category.

"Well, you're definitely doing something about it. The foundation's support has allowed us to serve an additional four hundred families this quarter compared to the same period last year."

"Four hundred families," Joe repeated, as if calculating what that meant in practical terms.

"Which translates to roughly twelve hundred people, including about four hundred and fifty children."

Joe's eyebrows raised slightly. "That's amazing."

"It really is. And that's just our organization. I know the foundation supports other food-related initiatives too."

"We do, but I'd love to understand more about your work specifically. Would you be willing to give me a tour of your facility sometime? I like to see the programs in action when possible."

Y/N felt a flutter of something—professional excitement, she told herself. "Absolutely. I love showing people our operation. I'm still getting my bearings since I'm so new, but most people are surprised by the scale and the logistics involved."

"I'd imagine. What day works best for you?"

They were interrupted by Robin tapping a microphone at the front of the room. "If we could have everyone take their seats, we'd love to get started with the program portion of our event."

"We should probably grab seats," Joe said, but he didn't immediately move toward the tables.

"Definitely. I'll send you my contact information through Robin."

"Looking forward to it."

As they made their way to their respective tables, Y/N found herself glancing back at Joe once. He was being stopped by other attendees, but when their eyes met across the room, he gave her a small smile that made her stomach do something unexpected.

She settled into her assigned seat, only half-listening as Robin welcomed everyone and began introducing the various speakers. Her mind kept returning to their conversation—not just the content, but the way Joe had listened, the thoughtful questions he'd asked, the moment when his professional composure had slipped just slightly when he'd mentioned his childhood.

When it was her turn to speak about the food bank's impact, Y/N found herself scanning the room until she located Joe's table. He was watching attentively, and something about his focus made her feel more confident as she talked about the families they served and the difference the foundation's support was making.

"The foundation's contribution this year will allow us to provide the equivalent of one hundred and twenty thousand meals to families in our region," she concluded. "But more than that, it's helping us build a stronger, more resilient community where everyone has access to basic nutrition."

The applause was warm, and Y/N felt a flush of satisfaction as she returned to her seat. This was why she loved her work—being able to connect the numbers to real human impact, to help people understand that their support was changing lives.

As the event wound down, Y/N found herself exchanging business cards and making plans for follow-up meetings with several potential new partners. The afternoon had been more successful than she'd hoped, but she kept finding herself looking around the room for Joe.

She was packing up her materials when he appeared beside her table.

"That was really good," he said. "One hundred and twenty thousand meals - that's crazy."

"Thank you. I'm excited about the partnership and what we'll be able to accomplish this year."

"About that tour—I'm serious about wanting to see the operation. When would work for you?"

Y/N pulled out her phone to check her calendar. "I'm pretty flexible this week, if you want to come by before things get too crazy. We're always busiest at the end of the month."

"How about Thursday afternoon? Would two o'clock work?"

"Perfect. I'll send you some background information so you know what to expect."

"Sounds good." Joe paused, then added, "I'm really glad my mom introduced us. It's obvious you care about this work."

"I do. It's easy to care about something that makes such a direct difference in people's lives."

"I get that. Looking forward to Thursday."

They stood there for a moment, the conversation seeming to naturally wind down, but neither immediately moving away. Finally, Joe glanced toward where some other attendees were trying to get his attention.

"I should probably..." he gestured toward the group.

"Of course. Thanks again for today."

As Joe headed back toward the other guests, Y/N made her way to the parking lot, pulling out her phone to text Alex.

Y/N: Event went really well. Made some great connections.

Alex: Told you! Details when you get home. Proud of you.

Driving back toward downtown Cincinnati, Y/N found herself thinking about the conversation with Joe, the way he'd asked questions that showed he was thinking about the work, not just going through the motions of donor engagement. It would be good to have someone so committed to understanding their impact.

She was almost back to her apartment when she caught herself wondering what Joe would think of the mobile pantry operation. And whether he'd want to grab coffee after the tour again.

The thought made her smile.

Still, as she pulled into her parking spot, Y/N found herself already thinking about what she'd show Joe on Thursday. The warehouse operations, maybe the mobile pantry prep area. She wanted him to see how much his foundation's support actually meant in practical terms.

It wasn't until she was unlocking her apartment door that she realized she'd been smiling the entire drive home.

* * *

Y/N checked her phone for the third time in ten minutes. 1:58 PM. Joe would be here any minute for the food bank tour, and she was probably more nervous than she should be for what was essentially a professional meeting. She'd spent the morning reviewing statistics and operation details, wanting to make sure she could answer any questions he might have—though she was still learning some of the systems herself.

"You've got this," she muttered under her breath, straightening the visitor badges on her desk. Through her office window, she could see the main warehouse floor where volunteers were sorting through the morning's grocery store donations. The activity helped calm her nerves.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alex: How's the VIP tour prep going?

Trying not to overthink it, Y/N replied. It's just a tour.

Mhmm. The fact that you texted me about what to wear for "just a tour" says otherwise. You've got this, babe. Show him why you're amazing at what you do.

Y/N smiled at her phone. Alex had been nothing but supportive about this meeting, even teasing her gently about her obvious nerves. She loved that she was with someone who encouraged her to appreciate attractive, interesting people rather than feeling threatened by it.

A knock on her office door interrupted her thoughts. "Y/N? There's someone here to see you," called Marcus, one of the volunteer coordinators.

"That'll be Joe Burrow," she said, grabbing her visitor badges and heading toward the front entrance. "I'll be right there."

Joe was standing near the reception desk, reading one of the posters about food insecurity. He was in jeans and a gray hoodie, and when he saw her coming, he smiled.

"Hey," he said. 

"Hey, perfect timing," Y/N said, trying to ignore the little flutter in her stomach. "Ready to see what your foundation's support actually looks like in action?"

"Absolutely."

She handed him a visitor badge and clipped her own ID badge to her cardigan. "Fair warning—I'm still pretty new here myself, so if I don't know the answer to something, I'll find someone who does."

"That's honest. I appreciate that."

Y/N led him through the first set of doors into the main warehouse space. The scale of the operation was impressive—rows of industrial shelving stretching up to the ceiling, forklifts moving pallets of canned goods, volunteers in bright yellow t-shirts sorting donations at long tables.

"Wow," Joe said, stopping to take it all in. "This is way bigger than I expected."

"Right? When I was interviewing for the job, they told me we distribute about two million pounds of food annually, but seeing it is completely different." Y/N gestured toward the organized chaos around them. "This is our main sorting and distribution area. Most of the food comes from grocery store donations, food drives, and federal programs."

They walked deeper into the warehouse, Y/N pointing out different sections and explaining the flow of operations. Joe asked thoughtful questions—not just about the numbers, but about the logistics, the challenges, the people they served.

"So how do you decide who gets what?" he asked as they paused near a section where volunteers were packing family-sized boxes.

"Great question, and honestly, it's something I'm still learning the nuances of," Y/N admitted. "We have a client choice model here, which means families can actually shop for what they need rather than just getting a pre-packed box. It preserves dignity and ensures people get food they'll actually use."

"That makes sense. Nobody wants to feel like they're just getting whatever someone else decided they should have."

"Exactly. But it also means we need a lot more variety in our inventory, and the logistics are more complex." She paused near a volunteer who was restocking the choice pantry shelves. "Mind if we watch for a minute? I'm still figuring out how they manage the flow during busy periods."

Joe nodded, and they stood off to the side observing the organized system of clients moving through with volunteers to help when needed. Y/N found herself genuinely curious about the process, asking the volunteer coordinator questions about peak times and inventory management.

"You really are new at this," Joe said quietly, but not in a critical way. "I like that you're not pretending to know everything."

"Would that be more impressive?"

"No. This is better. Shows you actually care about getting it right."

They continued the tour, visiting the mobile pantry prep area where volunteers were loading trucks for community distribution sites. Y/N explained what she knew about the program and asked the staff member to fill in details about the routes and scheduling.

"We serve about fifteen different locations throughout the week," the staff member, Janet, explained. "Senior centers, community centers, schools. Basically anywhere we can reach people who might not be able to get to our main location."

"How do you decide where to go?" Joe asked.

"Community need assessments, requests from local organizations, that kind of thing. Y/N's actually been working on expanding our reach into some underserved areas."

Y/N felt a flush of pride. "It's preliminary research right now, but there are definitely gaps in our coverage, especially in some of the rural areas outside the city."

"What's the biggest challenge with expansion?" Joe asked as they walked back toward the main warehouse.

"Funding, mostly. Each new route means more trucks, more gas, more staff time. And then you need relationships in those communities—people who can help spread the word and coordinate." Y/N paused, realizing she was getting into details that might not interest him. "Sorry, I'm probably giving you way more information than you wanted."

"Are you kidding? This is exactly what I wanted to know. When I write a check, I want to understand what it actually does."

They'd reached the volunteer area where people were sorting through donated items, and Y/N noticed they were short-handed at one of the stations.

"Would you mind if we jumped in for a few minutes?" she asked. "I try to help out when I can, and it looks like they could use extra hands."

"Sure."

Y/N led him to a table where volunteers were sorting canned goods, checking expiration dates and organizing by type. She grabbed two chairs and explained the process—a simple but important quality control step to make sure expired items didn't make it to families.

Working side by side, their conversation became more natural and personal. Joe told her about growing up in Athens, about watching his parents work multiple jobs, about feeling lucky but never forgetting where he came from. Y/N shared stories about her previous job in Portland, about the career move to Cincinnati, about Alex and their decision to try long-distance while Y/N got established.

"That's got to be hard," Joe said, checking the date on a can of green beans. "Long distance."

"It is, but Alex has been amazing about it. She's the one who pushed me to take this job, actually. Said I'd be crazy to pass it up."

"Sounds like a good partner."

"She really is. She's actually excited about me exploring a new city, meeting new people, trying new things." Y/N glanced at Joe as she said this, wondering if he caught the subtle implication.

Joe's hands paused for just a moment in his sorting before he continued. "That's rare. A lot of people would be more possessive about that kind of change."

"Alex isn't most people. She trusts me, and she knows that me being happy and fulfilled makes our relationship stronger, not weaker."

They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the rhythm of sorting creating an easy intimacy. Y/N found herself hyperaware of Joe's presence beside her—the way he moved, the occasional brush of their hands when they reached for the same box, the subtle scent of his cologne.

"Y/N?" Janet appeared at their table. "Sorry to interrupt, but we've got a reporter here for that feature story about the mobile pantry program. Do you have a few minutes?"

Y/N glanced at her watch, surprised to see they'd been at the sorting table for almost thirty minutes. "Of course. Joe, I should probably—"

"Go ahead," he said. "I can finish up here."

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. Take your time."

Y/N felt that flutter again, this time at his easy willingness to stay and help rather than just observe. "I'll be right back."

The interview with the reporter took longer than expected—nearly forty-five minutes of questions about the mobile pantry program, statistics about food insecurity, and photos of the loading area. When Y/N finally made it back to the volunteer area, Joe was still there, now helping move sorted items to the appropriate storage areas.

"You didn't have to stay," she said, approaching him.

"I told you I wanted to see how this place actually works. Best way to do that is to work." He gestured to the organized stacks of canned goods. "Plus, it's kind of satisfying."

"Meditative, right? I've only been here a few weeks, but I can already see how the repetitive work would help clear your head."

They walked back toward the front of the building, the official tour portion complete. Y/N felt oddly reluctant for the visit to end, which was probably not entirely professional of her.

"So what do you think?" she asked as they reached the lobby area.

"I think I understand now why my foundation money makes such a difference. And I think you're really good at this job, even if you are still learning."

"Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from someone who's clearly passionate about this work too."

Joe was quiet for a moment, seeming to consider something. "Can I ask you something that might be overstepping?"

"Shoot."

"Are you free for coffee? There's a place down the street, and I'd love to continue talking about some of this stuff. Maybe brainstorm about those expansion ideas you mentioned."

Y/N felt her pulse quicken. It was a perfectly reasonable request—foundation donor wanting to understand programs better. But the way Joe was looking at her suggested it wasn't entirely about the food bank.

"I'd love that," she said. "Let me just grab my jacket."

Twenty minutes later, they were settled in a corner booth at a local coffee shop, the conversation flowing easily between work topics and more personal territory. Joe was surprisingly easy to talk to—asking genuine questions, sharing his own experiences, making her laugh with dry observations about the differences between small-town Ohio and Cincinnati.

"So how long have you and Alex been together?" he asked during a lull in conversation.

"Three years. We met through work in Portland—she's a graphic designer, was doing some projects for nonprofits I was connected with."

"And she's really okay with you being here while she's still there?"

"More than okay. She's actually the one who convinced me to take the job."

"That's cool of her. A lot of people would be more worried about that kind of separation. Even if its just temporary."

"Alex isn't most people. She's very secure in our relationship." Y/N paused, then added, "We're pretty open about a lot of things."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Open how?"

"We have an open relationship," Y/N said simply. "We trust each other completely, and we both believe that connection with other people can enhance rather than threaten what we have together."

Joe set down his coffee cup carefully. "That's... refreshingly honest."

"Is that weird to say?"

"No. I appreciate honesty. Saves everyone time and confusion."

They looked at each other across the table, and Y/N felt something shift in the air between them. Joe's eyes were steady on hers, and she found herself wondering what he was thinking.

"So you're both free to... explore?" he asked.

"We are. Though honestly, I haven't really taken advantage of that much."

"Why not?"

Y/N hesitated, not sure how much to reveal. "I guess I haven't really felt drawn to it before."

"But you're open to it?"

"I am." She met his gaze directly. "Theoretically."

Joe's smile was slow and warm. "Theoretically."

"Well," Y/N said, feeling heat rise in her cheeks, "maybe not just theoretically."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, both processing the conversation. Y/N felt nervous but not regretful about her honesty.

"This is all pretty new territory for me," Y/N admitted.

"I figured," Joe said. "For what it's worth, I'm interested in getting to know you better."

Y/N felt her heart skip. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. But no pressure. We can take things slow, see what feels right."

"I'd like that."

Joe's smile was warm and reassuring. "Good."

They finished their coffee talking about lighter topics, but the undercurrent of attraction remained, humming beneath every exchanged glance and casual touch. When Joe walked her back to her car, Y/N felt like she was standing at the edge of something entirely new.

"Thank you for today," she said as they reached her car. "The tour, the coffee, the sorting help. All of it."

"Thank you for showing me around. And for being honest about... everything."

They stood close together in the parking lot, the late afternoon sun casting shadows between them. Y/N could feel the pull to step closer, to see what would happen if she did.

Instead, Joe took a small step back, giving her space but keeping his eyes on hers.

"I'd like to see you again," he said. "Outside of work stuff."

"I'd like that too."

"How about dinner? Somewhere we can actually talk without interruption."

"When?"

"Saturday? If that works with your schedule."

"Saturday works."

Joe pulled out his phone. "What's your number?"

As they exchanged contact information, Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness that reminded her of being a teenager with her first crush. Except this wasn't teenage infatuation—this was adult attraction with all its complexities and possibilities.

"I'll text you about dinner plans," Joe said.

"Looking forward to it."

Joe got into his car, but before pulling away, he rolled down his window.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Alex is lucky to have someone who's brave enough to be honest about what they want."

As he drove away, Y/N stood in the parking lot for a long moment, processing what had just happened. She'd acknowledged her attraction to a man for the first time in her life. She'd been honest about her open relationship. She'd made plans for what was definitely going to be a date.

And instead of feeling conflicted or guilty, she felt excited.

She pulled out her phone to text Alex.

The tour went really well. Joe's amazing - so genuine about the work. We ended up getting coffee after and talked for hours.

That's awesome! I told you he'd be impressed by your passion. How was it getting to know him better?

Really good. Alex... he asked about our relationship.

And?

I told him we're open. He seemed interested in exploring that.

How do you feel about that?

Nervous but excited. That's normal, right?

Totally normal. Good for you. Talk tonight?

Definitely. Love you.

Love you too. Proud of you for being open to new experiences.

Y/N smiled at her phone, feeling grateful once again for Alex's support and encouragement. Whatever was developing with Joe, she knew she had Alex's blessing to explore it.

* * *

Y/N stood in front of her closet Saturday evening, holding up two different dresses and feeling ridiculous about how much thought she was putting into this. It was just dinner. With someone she'd already spent several hours with this week. Someone who'd seen her in work clothes sorting canned goods.

But it was also her first real date with a man, and she had no idea what that was supposed to feel like.

Her phone buzzed on the dresser—a FaceTime call from Alex. Y/N answered, propping the phone against her mirror.

"Okay, show me the options," Alex said without preamble, already settled in what looked like her favorite coffee shop in Portland.

"You don't even know what I'm deciding between."

"Babe, you've been texting me outfit updates for the past hour. I know exactly what this is about. Now show me."

Y/N held up the two dresses. "The black one is probably safer, but the blue one is more—"

"The blue one."

"You didn't even let me finish."

"The blue one makes your eyes look incredible, and more importantly, it's the one you actually want to wear. I can tell by how you're holding it."

Y/N looked down at the blue dress in her right hand. Alex was right—she'd been gravitating toward it all afternoon.

"What if I'm overdressed? We're just going to some Italian place downtown."

"Y/N." Alex's voice was gentle but firm. "You're spiraling. Take a breath."

Y/N sat on the edge of her bed, phone in hand. "I don't know why I'm so nervous. It's not like I've never been on a date before."

"But you've never been on a date with a man before. That's different, and it's okay to be nervous about different."

"What if I don't know how to act? What if it's weird?"

"Then it'll be weird, and you'll figure it out. But Y/N, from everything you've told me about Joe, he seems like someone who'd make you feel comfortable being yourself."

"He does. That's what's confusing me. I keep expecting it to feel strange or forced, but it doesn't."

Y/N was quiet for a moment, processing. "I keep thinking about Thursday. The way he looked at me when we were talking. I've never had a guy look at me like that before."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Like... like I wanted him to keep looking at me like that." Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks.

Alex's smile was warm and knowing. "That's good, babe."

"Okay. Blue dress it is."

"Blue dress. And Y/N? Have fun tonight. Don't spend the whole time analyzing everything. Just see what happens."

After they hung up, Y/N felt better. She put on the blue dress, touched up her makeup, and was ready with five minutes to spare when Joe texted that he was outside.

She grabbed her purse and jacket, took one last look in the mirror, and headed downstairs.

Joe was leaning against a dark sedan, scrolling through his phone, when she emerged from her apartment building. When he looked up and saw her, his expression shifted into something warmer.

"Hey," he said, straightening up. "You look really nice."

"Thanks. So do you."

He was wearing dark jeans and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up—casual but put-together. It was the kind of effortless style that probably took no thought for him but looked intentionally perfect.

Joe moved to open the passenger door for her, his hand briefly touching her lower back as she got into the car. It was a small gesture, polite and natural, but Y/N felt hyperaware of the contact.

"So where are we going?" she asked as he got into the driver's seat.

"This place called Boca. It's in OTR—Over-the-Rhine. Have you explored that area yet?"

"Not really. I've been meaning to, but I keep getting caught up in work stuff."

"You'll like it. Good food, not too loud. We can actually have a conversation."

The drive to the restaurant was comfortable, filled with easy conversation about Cincinnati neighborhoods and Y/N's impressions of the city so far. Joe had obviously put thought into choosing somewhere she might enjoy, which felt considerate in a way that made her chest warm.

Boca was intimate without being stuffy—exposed brick walls, warm lighting, and tables spaced far enough apart for privacy. Joe had made a reservation, and they were seated at a quiet corner table away from the main dining room.

"This is really nice," Y/N said, settling into her seat.

"I was hoping you'd like it. I figured somewhere low-key would be better for a first..." He paused, seeming to consider his words.

"First date?" Y/N supplied, amused by his hesitation.

"I wasn't sure if that's what you'd call it."

"What would you call it?"

Joe's smile was slightly crooked. "I'd call it a date. If that's okay with you."

"It's okay with me."

They ordered wine and settled into the kind of conversation that had come naturally to them from the beginning. Joe asked about her transition to Cincinnati, her impressions of the food bank's operations, her plans for the mobile pantry expansion. Y/N found herself asking about his off-season routine, his foundation work, what he did when he wasn't being Joe Burrow the quarterback.

"That's an interesting question," Joe said, twirling pasta around his fork. "Sometimes I'm not sure there's much separation between the two."

"That sounds exhausting."

"It can be. But it's also just... who I am now. Hard to turn it off."

"Do you want to turn it off?"

Joe considered this. "Sometimes. It would be nice to go to a restaurant without wondering if someone's going to ask for a photo. Or to have a conversation without thinking about whether what I'm saying might end up on social media."

"Is that what you're thinking about now?"

"No." His answer was immediate and certain. "This feels different."

"Different how?"

"Normal. Like I can just be myself without thinking about it."

Y/N felt something flutter in her chest at the sincerity in his voice. "I'm glad."

Their conversation drifted to more personal territory—family, college experiences, travel. Y/N found herself sharing stories she didn't usually tell on first dates, feeling unusually comfortable with Joe's quiet attention.

"What about you?" Joe asked during dessert. "What do you do when you're not being Y/N the community impact director?"

"Honestly? I'm still figuring that out here. In Portland I had routines, favorite places, a whole life outside work. Here I'm still exploring."

"What did you like to do there?"

"Hiking, mostly. Alex and I would drive out to the Gorge or up to Mount Hood on weekends. I miss that."

"There's good hiking here too. Different, but good. Red River Gorge in Kentucky is about two hours away."

"You hike?"

"When I can. It's one of the few things that actually clears my head completely."

"I've been trying to figure out where the good spots are around here."

"I could show you some places. If you want."

The offer hung between them, loaded with implication. It was an invitation to spend more time together, to share something he enjoyed, to continue whatever this was they were building.

"I'd like that," Y/N said.

After dinner, Joe suggested they walk around the neighborhood instead of heading straight back to the car. The evening was warm for October, and Y/N found herself agreeing easily.

They strolled down the tree-lined streets, past converted townhouses and small galleries, their conversation becoming more relaxed and wandering. Joe pointed out places he liked—a coffee shop, a bookstore, a small park tucked between buildings.

"You seem to know this area pretty well," Y/N observed.

"I bought a place near here when I first got to Cincinnati. Sold it last year, but I still like the neighborhood."

"Why did you sell?"

"Wanted something with more space. The place I have now has an actual yard, which is nice when I need to decompress."

They'd stopped walking and were standing near a small fountain in the tucked-away park Joe had mentioned. The space was quiet, lit by vintage streetlamps that cast warm pools of light on the walkways.

"This is really pretty," Y/N said, looking around.

"Yeah, it is." Joe glanced around the small park. "I used to come here sometimes when I lived in the neighborhood."

"Y/N," he said, his voice quieter than before.

"Yeah?"

Instead of answering, Joe stepped closer. His hand came up to touch her arm, just above her elbow, his thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of her dress.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

Y/N nodded, not trusting her voice. The simple contact was sending heat up her arm and making her hyperaware of how close they were standing.

Joe's other hand came up to touch her face, his fingertips tracing along her jawline. Y/N felt her eyes flutter closed at the gentle contact, her breath coming shorter.

When Y/N opened her eyes, Joe was very close, close enough that she could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, close enough to feel his breath warm against her face.

Joe leaned down and kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, giving her time to pull away if she wanted to. But Y/N found herself leaning into the kiss instead, her hands coming up to rest against his chest.

Joe's lips were warm and gentle, moving against hers with a patience that made her melt. This was nothing like kissing Alex—different texture, different taste, different rhythm. Where Alex was soft and familiar, Joe was firm and new and thrilling.

When they broke apart, Y/N realized she was breathing hard.

"Wow," she said, then immediately felt foolish for such an inelegant response.

Joe's smile was warm. "Good?"

"Very good."

They stood close together for another moment, Y/N processing the newness of everything she'd just felt. Joe's hands were still on her face and arm, anchoring her while she adjusted to the rush of sensations.

"That was..." she started, then trailed off.

"Your first time kissing a guy," Joe finished gently.

"Yeah. Was it obvious?"

"Not obvious. Just... different."

Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Different how?"

"Like you were really present for it. Like you were paying attention to everything."

"I was. It was... a lot to take in."

Joe's thumb brushed against her cheek. "What did you think?"

Y/N considered the question seriously. What had she thought? The physical sensation had been different than she'd expected—Joe's facial hair creating a texture she wasn't used to, his mouth firmer than Alex's, his hands larger and rougher. But more than that, it had awakened something in her she hadn't known was there.

"I liked it," she said simply. "You're a really good kisser."

"Yeah?"

"I thought it might feel strange or wrong somehow. But it didn't. It felt..." She searched for the right word. "Natural."Joe's smile was soft and genuine. "I'm glad."

He leaned down to kiss her again, and this time Y/N was ready for it. She kissed him back with more confidence, letting herself explore the newness of his mouth, the way he tasted, the way his hands felt tangled in her hair.

When they separated this time, Y/N felt more confident but also more aware of the attraction between them.

"We should probably head back," Joe said, though he didn't sound particularly eager to move.

"Probably."

They walked back to the car hand in hand, a comfortable silence settling between them. Y/N found herself stealing glances at Joe, trying to process the shift in how she saw him. An hour ago he'd been attractive in an abstract way. Now she was hyperaware of his physical presence—the way he moved, the size of his hand holding hers, the memory of how he'd felt pressed against her.

When they reached her apartment building, Joe walked her to the entrance.

"I had a really good time tonight," he said.

"So did I."

"I'd like to see you again. Soon."

"I'd like that too."

Joe leaned down to kiss her goodnight, and Y/N found herself rising up on her toes to meet him halfway. This kiss was brief but warm, full of promise.

"I'll call you tomorrow?" Joe asked.

"I'll answer."

Y/N watched from her window as Joe drove away, then sank onto her couch to process the evening. She felt energized and confused and excited all at once.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alex: How did it go?

Y/N stared at the question for a long moment, trying to figure out how to encapsulate everything that had happened.

He kissed me, she finally typed.

And???

I really, really liked it.

I'm so happy for you! Call me tomorrow with details?

Definitely. Love you.

Y/N set her phone aside and touched her lips, still able to feel the ghost of Joe's mouth against hers.

Tomorrow she'd call Alex and try to put words to everything she was feeling. Tonight, she just wanted to sit with the newness of it all—the discovery that attraction could surprise you, that desire could be broader than you'd imagined, that sometimes the most unexpected connections were the ones that felt most right.

* * *

Y/N had been thinking about Joe's mouth for three days.

It was becoming a problem. She'd catch herself zoning out during meetings, her mind drifting back to Saturday night in that little park, to the way he'd kissed her with such careful attention. She'd touched her lips more times than she cared to admit, still able to feel the ghost of his mouth against hers.

Joe had texted Sunday morning, then called Monday evening. Their conversations were easy and warm, but underneath was a current of something that made Y/N's stomach flutter every time her phone buzzed with his name.

Which was why, when he asked if she wanted to come over Wednesday night to cook dinner together, she'd said yes before really thinking about what that meant.

Now, standing outside his house in the suburbs with a bottle of wine and her heart beating faster than usual, she was very aware of what it might mean.

Joe's house was bigger than she'd expected—modern but not flashy, clean lines and lots of windows. He answered the door in sweats and a t-shirt, socks on his feet, looking more relaxed than she'd seen him before.

"Hey," he said, smiling as he took the wine from her. "You found it okay?"

"GPS is a wonderful thing."

"Come on in. I'm making salmon, nothing too crazy."

The house was warm and inviting, decorated in neutral tones with touches that felt personal rather than professionally styled. Y/N could smell garlic and herbs from the kitchen, and there was music playing softly in the background.

"This is really nice," she said, following him toward the kitchen.

"Thanks. It's probably too big for one person, but I like having space."

The kitchen was sleek and clearly designed for someone who actually cooked. Joe had ingredients laid out on the counter—salmon fillets, vegetables, what looked like seasonings and a marinade.

"Can I help with anything?" Y/N asked.

"You can keep me company. And maybe open that wine."

Y/N found a corkscrew and opened the bottle while Joe moved around the kitchen with easy efficiency. There was something attractive about watching him cook—the confidence in his movements, the way he tasted the sauce and adjusted seasoning without measuring.

"You know what you're doing," she observed.

"My mom made sure I could take care of myself. Said she wasn't raising a man who'd live on takeout."

"Smart woman."

"She really is. You'd like her."

The comment made her stomach flutter a little.

They talked while Joe cooked, the conversation flowing as easily as it had at dinner Saturday. But there was an undercurrent of awareness now, a charge in the air that hadn't been there before they'd kissed. Y/N found herself watching Joe's hands as he chopped vegetables, remembering how they'd felt on her face.

"You're staring," Joe said, not looking up from the cutting board.

"Sorry." Y/N felt heat rise in her cheeks.

"I didn't say I minded."

When Joe glanced up at her, his expression was warm and knowing. Y/N felt that flutter again, stronger this time.

They ate at his kitchen island, the conversation turning more personal as the wine relaxed them both. Joe asked about her family, her childhood, what had drawn her to nonprofit work. Y/N found herself sharing stories she didn't usually tell, feeling safe in the cocoon of his attention.

"What about you?" she asked as they finished eating. "What did you want to be when you grew up? Before football took over."

Joe considered this. "I was actually better at basketball growing up. Thought that might be my path for a while."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but football won out eventually. Sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd stuck with basketball."

"Any regrets?"

"Nah. This worked out pretty well."

Y/N smiled. "Just a little."

The easy conversation made her feel relaxed, but she was also aware of the way Joe was looking at her as he stood to clear their plates.

"I can help with those," she said.

"Leave them for now," Joe said, setting the plates back down. "They're not going anywhere."

Y/N slid off her barstool, suddenly needing to be closer to him. "Good point."

Joe's eyes darkened slightly as she approached. "What are you thinking?"

They stood looking at each other across the kitchen island, the air between them charged with possibility. Finally, Joe moved around the counter to where she was standing.

"What do you want, Y/N?" he asked softly.

It was the same question he'd asked in different ways before—always checking, always making sure she was comfortable. But this time, Y/N felt more certain of her answer.

"I want to kiss you again," she said. "And I want to see what happens after that."

Joe's smile was slow and warm. "I can work with that."

He leaned down to kiss her, and this time Y/N was ready for it. She kissed him back with more confidence than she'd had Saturday night, letting herself explore the taste of him, the way his mouth moved against hers.

Joe's hands settled on her waist, pulling her closer, and Y/N felt heat spread through her chest at the contact. When his tongue brushed against her lower lip, she opened for him, a soft sound escaping her throat at the new sensation.

"Okay?" Joe murmured against her mouth.

"Absolutely."

They kissed until Y/N felt breathless, her hands fisted in Joe's t-shirt, her body pressed against his. When they finally broke apart, Joe rested his forehead against hers.

"Come sit with me?" he said.

He led her to the living room, settling onto the couch and pulling her down beside him. The room was dimly lit, warm and intimate, and Y/N felt hyperaware of every point of contact between them.

"I keep thinking about Saturday night," Y/N said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"About how it felt. How natural it was." She paused. "I keep thinking about your hands."

"My hands?"

"The way they felt on my face. On my waist just now." She gathered courage. "I keep wondering what they'd feel like other places."

Joe's breath caught slightly. "Y/N..."

"Is that too much?"

"No. God, no. I just want to make sure you're sure."

"I'm sure. I'm nervous, but I'm sure."

Joe shifted to face her more fully, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "We can go slow. Stop anytime."

"I know. I trust you."

When Joe kissed her this time, it was deeper, more intent. His hands moved from her face to her neck, her shoulders, skimming along her arms in a way that made her shiver. Y/N found herself leaning into his touch, craving more contact.

"Can I touch you?" Joe asked, his voice rougher than before."Can I touch you?" Joe asked, his voice rougher than before.

"Please."

Joe's hands moved to her waist, then slowly up her sides, his thumbs brushing just beneath her ribs. Even through her sweater, the contact sent heat shooting through Y/N's body.

"How does that feel?" he asked.

"Good. Really good."

Joe's hands continued their exploration, mapping the shape of her through her clothes with a patience that was both torturous and perfect. When his thumb brushed against the side of her breast, Y/N gasped.

"Still good?"

"Still good."

Y/N's own hands had found their way to Joe's chest, marveling at the solid muscle beneath his t-shirt. Everything about touching him was different than touching Alex—broader, harder, unfamiliar in a way that made her want to explore more.

"Can I..." she started, then tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Joe pulled the shirt over his head without hesitation, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry. She'd seen him shirtless in magazines and on TV, but seeing him here, in person, touchable, was entirely different.

"Jesus," she breathed.

Joe's laugh was low and pleased. "Good?"

"Shut up, you know it's good," Y/N said, putting her hands on his chest, exploring the planes of muscle, the texture of his skin. Joe's breath hitched when her fingers traced along his collarbone, and the sound sent a thrill through her.

"Your turn," Joe said, his hands finding the hem of her sweater.

Y/N felt a moment of nervousness—this was further than she'd ever gone with a man—but she nodded. Joe pulled her sweater off slowly, giving her time to change her mind. But Y/N didn't want to change her mind. She wanted to see what it felt like to be touched by him, to discover this new territory of her own desire.

"You're beautiful," Joe said, his voice soft with appreciation.

Y/N felt exposed but not uncomfortable. The way Joe was looking at her—with genuine admiration and barely restrained want—made her feel powerful in a way she hadn't expected.

"Touch me," she said.

Joe's hands were warm against her skin, tracing patterns along her ribs, her shoulders, the line of her collarbone. When his mouth followed the path of his hands, pressing soft kisses to her throat, Y/N felt her head fall back against the couch cushions.

"You taste good," Joe murmured against her neck.

Y/N was quickly losing the ability to form coherent thoughts. Every touch, every kiss was new and overwhelming and not nearly enough all at once. When Joe's mouth found that sensitive spot just below her ear, she made a sound she'd never made before.

"I like that sound," Joe said, his breath warm against her skin.

"I like what you're doing to make me make it."

They kissed and touched until Y/N felt completely undone, her body aching with need and hypersensitive to every brush of his hands. Joe’s touch was confident but reverent, slow and deliberate, like he was learning her by heart. His mouth dragged along her neck, down to her collarbone, his stubble rough against her skin in a way that made her breath hitch. When his hand slipped under the band of her bra and found her breast, she gasped—his palm was warm, his thumb circling her nipple until it tightened under his touch. He watched her face as he touched her, like he wanted to see every reaction, memorize every sound she made.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Y/N felt like she was seeing the world differently.

"Fuck," she said, still breathing heavily.

"Still good?"

"I'm good, I promise." Y/N looked at Joe, taking in his disheveled hair, his swollen lips, the way he was looking at her. "Joe?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I understand now. What I was missing."

"What's that?"

"This feeling. This... wanting." She paused, trying to find the right words. "I always thought I just wasn't attracted to men. But I think maybe I just hadn't met the right man."

Joe's smile was soft and genuine. "I'm glad it was me."

"Me too."

They stayed on the couch for a while longer, talking quietly, sharing soft kisses, Y/N's head on Joe's shoulder. There was an intimacy to it that felt both new and natural, like they were settling into something bigger than either of them had expected.

"I should probably head home," Y/N said eventually, though she made no move to get up.

"You don't have to."

"I know. But I think I need some time to process all of this."

"I understand."

Joe helped her find her sweater, then walked her to the door. They kissed goodnight on his front step, a long, slow kiss that left Y/N's knees weak.

"When can I see you again?" Joe asked.

"Soon," Y/N said. "Very soon."

On the drive home, Y/N called Alex.

"Hey babe," Alex answered. "How was dinner?"

"Life-changing," Y/N said without thinking.

"That good, huh?"

"Alex, I think I'm really attracted to him. Like, I'm attracted to a man."

"I can hear the smile in your voice. Tell me everything."

Y/N found herself sharing details she might have kept private before, but Alex's enthusiasm and support made it easy to be open.

"How do you feel about all of this?" Alex asked when Y/N finished.

"Excited. Nervous. Grateful that you're okay with me exploring this."

"Babe, I love seeing you discover new things about yourself. It doesn't threaten what we have—it makes you more you."

"I love you," Y/N said, meaning it completely.

"I love you too. Now get some sleep. You sound exhausted."

"Good exhausted."

"The best kind."

As Y/N got ready for bed, she caught herself smiling in the bathroom mirror. Her lips were still slightly swollen from kissing Joe, and she looked... different somehow. More alive.

* * *

Y/N had made it exactly three days before texting Joe again.

Not that she was counting, but Friday afternoon found her staring at her phone, trying to compose a message that didn't sound as desperate as she felt. She'd been thinking about Wednesday night constantly—the way Joe's hands had felt on her skin, the sounds he'd made when she'd touched him, the way her body had responded to his attention in completely new ways.

Are you free tonight? she finally typed, then immediately deleted it.

Want to hang out tonight? Delete.

I can't stop thinking about you. Delete, delete, delete.

Her phone buzzed with an incoming text from Joe: Been thinking about you. Want to come over tonight?

Y/N stared at the message. Thank god. Yes. What time?

Whenever you want. I'll cook again.

7?

Perfect.

Y/N spent the rest of the afternoon in a state of nervous anticipation. She knew where this was heading—they both did. The question wasn't whether they'd end up in bed together, but how it would feel when they did.

She called Alex during her lunch break, needing to talk through her nerves with someone who understood.

"I think tonight's going to be the night," Y/N said without preamble when Alex answered.

"The night for what?" Alex asked, though her tone suggested she already knew.

"You know what."

"I want to hear you say it."

"I think Joe and I are going to have sex tonight."

"How do you feel about that?"

"Terrified. Excited. Like I might throw up."

Alex laughed. "That sounds about right for a first time. What are you most nervous about?"

"What if I don't know what I'm doing? What if it's weird? What if I don't like it as much as I think I will?"

"Babe, breathe. First of all, from everything you've told me about Joe, he's not going to judge you for being inexperienced with men. Second, you're allowed to not like things. You're allowed to ask for what you want. And you're definitely allowed to stop if something doesn't feel right."

"I know. Logically I know all of that."

"But?"

"But this feels really important. Like it's going to tell me something fundamental about myself."

"It might. Or it might just be good sex with someone you're attracted to. Both are okay."

Y/N took a deep breath. "You're right."

"I usually am. Now go have fun, be safe, and call me tomorrow with all the details."

"All the details?"

"Okay, maybe not all the details. But I want to know how you're feeling afterward."

"Deal."

Y/N arrived at Joe's house at seven on the dot, carrying a bottle of wine and trying to calm her racing heart. Joe answered the door looking relaxed and gorgeous in jeans and a simple button-down shirt.

"Hey," he said, smiling as he let her in. "You look nervous."

"I am nervous."

"You okay?"

"Yeah. I'll get it together."

Joe leaned down to kiss her hello, and Y/N felt some of her tension ease at the familiar warmth of his mouth. When they broke apart, he studied her face.

"We don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he said. "No pressure."

"I know. That's part of why I'm here."

They had dinner—salmon and vegetables again, because Joe said he'd been perfecting the recipe—and talked about their weeks. The conversation was easy, but Y/N could feel the undercurrent of anticipation between them.

"You're thinking really hard about something," Joe observed as they finished eating.

"I'm always thinking."

"What about specifically?"

Y/N set down her wine glass and looked at him directly. "About whether you're going to kiss me again tonight. About whether I want you to do more than kiss me. About whether I'm ready for that."

"And what are you deciding?"

"That I want to find out."

Joe's expression softened. "You sure?"

"I'm sure I want to try. I'm sure I trust you. I'm sure I'm attracted to you in ways I didn't know I could be attracted to anyone."

Joe stood and extended his hand. "Come here."

Y/N took his hand and let him pull her to her feet. He kissed her softly, thoroughly, his hands settling on her waist.

"If you want to stop at any point, you tell me," he said against her mouth. "Promise me."

"I promise."

Joe led her upstairs to his bedroom, and Y/N felt her heart racing. The room was clean and simple—dark furniture, white sheets, big windows. It looked like him.

"Second thoughts?" Joe asked, noticing her pause.

"No. Just... taking it in."

Joe sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her to stand between his legs. His hands rested on her hips, thumbs tracing small circles through her dress.

"We can go as slow as you want," he said.

"What if I don't want to go slow?"

Joe's eyes darkened. "Then we don't go slow."

Y/N leaned down to kiss him, putting all of her want and nervousness and curiosity into the contact. Joe's hands tightened on her hips, pulling her closer, and Y/N felt heat pool in her stomach.

"Can I undress you?" Joe asked when they broke apart.

"Yes."

Joe's hands were careful and reverent as he helped her out of her dress, pressing soft kisses to newly exposed skin. Y/N shivered under his attention, amazed at how different it felt to be undressed by a man—his hands larger and rougher than Alex's, his approach both gentle and possessive.

Joe let her undress him slowly, her hands exploring the broad planes of his chest, the definition of his arms, the line of hair that disappeared beneath his jeans. Everything about his body was different than what she was used to, and she found herself fascinated by the contrasts.

"You're staring again," Joe said, his voice amused.

"I'm learning."

"What are you learning?"

"That I really like looking at you. Touching you."

Joe groaned softly and pulled her down onto the bed with him. They kissed and touched until Y/N felt dizzy with want, her body responding to Joe's attention in ways that surprised her.

"How are you feeling?" Joe asked, his mouth against her neck.

"Like I understand what people write songs about now."

Joe laughed, the sound vibrating against her skin. "That good?"

"That good."

Joe's hands and mouth continued their exploration, finding places that made Y/N gasp and arch against him. When he asked permission before touching her more intimately, Y/N nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Please."

The first touch of Joe's fingers between her legs made Y/N cry out softly. The sensation was familiar but somehow completely different—his fingers longer and more insistent than Alex's, his approach confident in a way that made her melt.

"Feel good?" Joe asked, his voice rough.

"So good. God, Joe."

Y/N pulled Joe down for a kiss, tasting herself on his mouth and finding it incredibly erotic. Her hands moved to his jeans, fumbling with the button.

"Can I?" she asked.

"You don't have to—"

"I want to. I want to touch you."

Joe helped her get his sweats off, and Y/N felt her mouth go dry as she took in the full sight of him. She'd felt him through his clothes, but seeing him naked was different—bigger than she'd expected, harder, undeniably male in a way that made her stomach clench with want.

"You okay?" Joe asked, noticing her pause.

"Just... fuck."

Y/N reached out tentatively, wrapping her hand around him and marveling at the way he felt—warm and smooth and solid. Joe's breath hitched at her touch, and the sound gave her confidence to explore more boldly.

"Like this?" she asked, experimenting with different pressures and rhythms.

"Yes. God, yes."

Y/N found herself fascinated by Joe's responses—the way his breathing changed, the sounds he made, the way his hips moved seeking more contact. It was powerful knowing she could affect him like this.

"Y/N," Joe said, his voice strained. "I want to be inside you."

The words sent a jolt of heat through her. "I want that too."

Joe reached for protection, and Y/N watched as he put it on, her heart racing with anticipation and nerves.

"You sure?" he asked one more time.

"I'm sure."

Joe positioned himself above her, and Y/N felt her breath catch as she felt him against her. This was it—the moment she'd been both wanting and nervous about.

"Look at me," Joe said softly.

Y/N met his eyes as he pushed into her slowly, carefully. The sensation was intense—a fullness and stretch that was completely different than anything she'd experienced before. Joe paused, letting her adjust, his face tight with restraint.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Okay. Yeah, okay."

Joe began to move, slowly at first, letting Y/N get used to the rhythm and sensation. It was overwhelming in the best way—different than she'd expected but exactly what she'd needed.

"Feel okay?" Joe asked, his voice rough with effort.

"Yeah. Keep going."

As Joe's movements became more confident, Y/N found herself lost in sensation. This was what she'd been missing, what she'd been curious about. Not just the physical mechanics, but the emotional intensity of being connected to someone this way.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Joe said, his forehead pressed against hers.

Y/N could only moan in response, her body building toward another climax. When Joe shifted the angle slightly, hitting something inside her that made her see stars, she cried out.

"Right there?"

"Right there."

Joe maintained that rhythm until Y/N fell apart beneath him, her orgasm even more intense than the first. The sensation of her climaxing around him pushed Joe over the edge, and he came with a groan, his face buried in her neck.

They lay tangled together afterward, both breathing hard. Y/N felt overwhelmed and satisfied and amazed all at once.

"How was that?" Joe asked eventually.

"Life-changing," Y/N said, echoing what she'd told Alex after their first dinner. "Seriously."

Y/N turned in Joe's arms to face him. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being patient. For making it good. For helping me figure this out."

Joe's smile was soft. "Thank you for trusting me with it."

They talked quietly for a while, Y/N processing everything she'd just experienced. It wasn't just that the sex had been good—though it had been incredible. It was that she finally understood what she'd been missing, what her body was capable of responding to.

"I should probably head home," Y/N said eventually, though she made no move to get up.

"Stay," Joe said. "If you want to."

Y/N considered it. Part of her wanted to stay, to see what it felt like to wake up next to him. But another part needed space to process everything that had just happened.

"I think I need to go home tonight," she said. "But can I see you again soon?"

"Anytime you want."

Joe walked her to her car, kissing her goodnight under the streetlight. Y/N drove home in a daze, her body still humming from Joe's touch.

She called Alex as soon as she got to her apartment.

"So?" Alex said without preamble.

"So I definitely like men," Y/N said. "Or at least, I definitely like Joe."

"Details?"

"It was incredible, Alex. Different than I expected but so good. I understand now why people make such a big deal about sexual chemistry."

"I'm so happy for you. How do you feel?"

"Like I discovered a whole new part of myself. Like everything makes more sense now."

"That's beautiful, babe. I'm proud of you for being brave enough to explore this."

"Thank you for being okay with it. For encouraging me."

"I love you, Y/N. All of you. Including the parts you're still discovering."

After they hung up, Y/N lay in bed thinking about everything that had changed. A month ago, she would never have imagined she'd be here—sexually satisfied by a man, understanding her own bisexuality in a completely new way, grateful for the support of her girlfriend as she explored attraction she'd never known she possessed.

* * *

Three months later

Y/N was laughing so hard she could barely breathe, clutching her stomach as Joe continued his story about a play call gone wrong during practice.

"And then coach is screaming from the sideline, right?" Joe said, gesturing with his beer bottle. "But nobody can hear him because the music's too loud, so half the team runs the wrong route and I'm just standing there with the ball like an idiot."

"Oh no," Alex said from her spot on the other end of the couch, grinning. "Please tell me someone got that on film."

"Of course they did. It's probably still making the rounds on the internet."

They were sprawled across Joe's living room on a lazy Sunday afternoon, the remnants of the brunch Joe had made scattered across the coffee table. Alex was visiting for the weekend—her first trip to Cincinnati since Y/N had moved—and Y/N had been nervous about how this dynamic would work in person.

She shouldn't have worried. Alex and Joe had hit it off immediately, bonding over their shared amusement at Y/N's tendency to overthink everything and their mutual appreciation for good coffee. Watching them together, Y/N felt a warmth in her chest that had nothing to do with the mimosas they'd been drinking.

"I still can't believe you've been hiding cooking skills this whole time," Alex said to Joe. "Y/N made it sound like you lived on protein bars and takeout."

"Hey," Y/N protested. "I said he could cook fish. I didn't know about the whole Sunday brunch situation."

"Man of mystery," Joe said with a shrug, but his smile was warm.

The easy banter between the three of them was exactly what Y/N had hoped for. Over the past few months, things with Joe had settled into something she hadn't expected—close and comfortable, but not complicated.

They'd continued sleeping together for about six weeks after that first night, exploring Y/N's newfound attraction with an enthusiasm that had surprised them both. But gradually, naturally, things had shifted. Y/N had started dating other men—tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as she understood what she was looking for. Joe had been nothing but supportive, even helpful in navigating the sometimes complicated world of dating as someone in an open relationship.

"I should probably get going soon," Alex said, checking her phone. "Flight's soon."

"I'll drive you," Y/N said, starting to gather the dishes.

"Actually," Joe said, "would it be weird if I tagged along? I want to hear more about this gallery opening you're working on."

"Not weird at all," Alex said. "I'd like that."

An hour later, they were standing in the airport terminal, Alex's bag checked and her boarding pass in hand. Y/N felt the familiar tug of sadness that came with these goodbyes, even though Alex would be moving to Cincinnati permanently in just two months.

"This was really great," Alex said, pulling Y/N into a hug. "I'm so glad I finally got to spend real time with Joe."

"What do you think?" Y/N asked quietly.

"I think he's exactly what you said he was. Good for you, supportive, genuinely cares about your happiness." Alex smiled. "And I think you two have figured out something really special."

Over Alex's shoulder, Y/N could see Joe standing a respectful distance away, scrolling through his phone to give them privacy. The sight of him—patient, considerate, completely secure in his place in her life—made her chest tight with affection.

"I really love him," Y/N said, surprising herself with the admission.

"I know you do. And he loves you too, just maybe not in the way either of you expected."

Alex was right. What Y/N felt for Joe wasn't the same as what she felt for Alex, but it wasn't less meaningful. It was something else entirely—a deep friendship built on trust and discovery, seasoned with attraction but not defined by it.

"Thank you," Y/N said. "For being okay with all of this. For encouraging me to explore. For never making me feel like I had to choose."

"Babe, you never have to thank me for loving all of you."

After Alex's plane took off, Joe and Y/N drove back toward the city in comfortable silence. Finally, Joe spoke.

"She's really great."

"She is."

"I can see why you love her."

Y/N glanced at him. "How are you feeling about everything? The whole weekend, I mean."

Joe was quiet for a moment, considering. "Good. Really good, actually. It's nice to see you with her, to understand that part of your life better."

They pulled into Y/N's apartment complex, but neither made a move to get out of the car.

"Joe," Y/N said. "Can I ask you something?"

"Always."

"Are you happy? With how things worked out between us?"

Joe turned to look at her fully. "You mean am I disappointed that we're not dating exclusively?"

"I guess that's what I'm asking."

"Y/N, what we have is better than what I was expecting when I first asked you to dinner. You're one of my closest friends. You trust me with things that matter to you. We helped each other figure out things about ourselves we didn't know before." He paused. "Why would I be disappointed in that?"

"Because most people would want more. Or different."

"I'm not most people. And what we have isn't less than a traditional relationship—it's just different."

Y/N felt tears prick her eyes, overwhelmed by gratitude for this man who had helped her discover so much about herself and asked for nothing but her friendship in return.

"I love you too, you know," she said. "Alex was right about that."

"I know. I love you too."

"Different than Alex, but just as real."

Joe nodded. "I feel the same way."

They sat in the quiet of the car for another moment, both processing the weight of what they'd just acknowledged.

"So what happens now?" Y/N asked.

"Now you keep dating interesting people and figuring out what you want. I keep being your friend who you can call when you need to complain about bad dates or celebrate good ones. Alex moves here and you two build your life together. And we all hang out and drink too much and argue about whether pineapple belongs on pizza."

"It doesn't belong on pizza."

"See? This is why we work as friends."

Y/N laughed, feeling lighter than she had in weeks. "You're a pretty great friend, you know that?"

"I mean, I'm probably the best friend you'll ever have, but yeah."

Y/N leaned over to kiss Joe's cheek. "Omg. Thanks. For all of this."

"Thanks for trusting me with it."

As Y/N walked to her apartment, she felt good about how everything had worked out. It wasn't what she'd expected when she'd first met Joe, but it was exactly what she needed.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alex: Landed safely. Joe's a keeper—as a friend and whatever else you two decide. Love you.

And another from Joe: Thanks for a great weekend. See you Thursday for that hiking trip?

Y/N smiled as she responded to both messages. Thursday's hike was with David, a teacher she'd been dating for a few weeks who shared her love of the outdoors. Joe had recommended the trail and offered to give David some pointers about the best routes.

Six months ago, Y/N would never have imagined her life could look like this—happily committed to Alex, confidently exploring her attraction to men, supported in that exploration by both her girlfriend and the man who'd helped her discover it. It wasn't conventional, but it was honest and loving and exactly what she needed.

As she got ready for bed, Y/N reflected on how much had changed since that first foundation event. She'd moved to a new city, started a new job, discovered new things about her sexuality, and built relationships she couldn't have predicted. Most importantly, she'd learned that love and connection didn't have to fit into neat categories to be real and meaningful.

Her phone lit up with one more text, this one from a group chat Joe had started with her and Alex: Next time I'm making pancakes. Y/N's in charge of coffee. Alex can provide commentary on our questionable life choices.

Deal, Alex replied almost immediately. But I want blueberry pancakes.

Obviously, Joe responded.

Y/N typed back: You two are never going to let me live down burning that one batch of pancakes, are you?

Never, they replied in unison.

Y/N fell asleep smiling, surrounded by love in all its beautiful, complicated forms.

[nothoughtsjustficrecs]

I don’t know shit about Fallout but something about this draws me in every time I scroll past it so I’m giving in and reading it. I’m excited.

I wrote ^that^ before I started to read and oh, I am now invested! I love this kinda vibe and you’re writing it so well! I don’t usually read incomplete series because I forget what happens very quickly, so I need to binge read stuff but I’m going to read all of these chapters available and excitedly wait for the final one!

Thank you for writing this story and sharing it with us!

When I was reading, I decided to write down my thoughts as I go, as I knew I'd forget otherwise. Below this is literally just the thoughts I wrote down because I do not have the brain power to convert them into actual fully coherent comments [I'll put them below a read more cut for the sake of spoilers and such].

-

“ stimpaks ” ngl, I thought I misread this word at first lol. I googled it though and ooh that would be very useful

Please excuse any potential weird commentary of my learning process in regard to Fallout 😬

“ Ultimately finding a cat or a dog to accompany you. ” yes, yes agreed! Very important

“ “We’ll be taking that bag, or else we’ll gut you like a pig.” ” damn, how rude. Manners go a long way you know, fella, damn

“ “God damn it Frank!” ” yeah, damn, Frank!

“ It’s just a dummy, but it has saved you several times already. ” ooh, smort

“ Megaton ” 100% read that as Megatron at first and was like “damn, poor Megatron getting gutted and his shell used to house people” 😂

“ Frank is back. ” dammit, Frank!

“ “Hey,” you hear a man’s deep voice from above, and gaze upwards “goggles and mask off please.” ” he used his manners! What a good boy

“ and he’s suddenly got his hands on you. ” 😏

“ “Or snacks!” You giggle, and he turns to you. ” okay that made me giggle too

“ “I’m [Y/n], but my friends used to call me Boo.” ” cute!

“ “You have friends? Lucky.” ” fr fr

“ “You did save my life after all.” ” ~friendsss~ (please imagine that said in a really weird borderline creepy voice, thanks. Hehe)

Under the Orange Colored Sky

Summary: Worn down by years in the wasteland, you’re a lone vault dweller surviving on scraps, instinct, and the fading hope of finding safety in the cruel wasteland—a chance encounter hints that not all is lost.

‿‿‿‿

I miss Jeon Wonwoo a lot (I'm sure you can relate), so here's a six-parter set in the Fallout universe. I'm posting a chapter every day, so buckle in babies. It's starts out relatively chill, but it doesn't last 🔥

pairing: non!idol Wonwoo x fem reader genre: fluff, angst and smut (the holy trinity) + Fallout (the video game) AU ☢️ word count: 2,3k for this chapter chapter: 1/6 rating: 18+ minors dni warnings for the whole fic: soft dom! Wonwoo, unprotected sex (don't do this), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, pet name (baby), slight breeding kink + violence, gore, hints at tor*ure.

divider by: @cafekitsune

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Chapter 1: Right Behind You Baby

Two bottles of purified water, three stimpaks and one can of dog food—that’s it. You would usually be thrilled about the amount of stimpaks, but you’re in dire need of food this time around, and this Super-Duper Mart turned out to be cleared out already. 

It’s been 807 days since you exited the vault, and you have yet to meet a friendly face.

On the contrary, raiders have been making your life a living hell, fitting enough for the barren wasteland around you.

You have put up a decent fight though, benefiting from your martial arts lessons in the vault.

Your days consist mainly of traversing the landscape scavenging, but the dream is to find a place where you can actually grow things to eat. Maybe even get a power source going and dig a well. Ultimately finding a cat or a dog to accompany you.

You close the buckle on your bag, and make your way to the exit. It’s clearly lit up by the scorching hot sun outside, contrasting the stuffy and dark interior of the abandoned supermarket.

Pushing the door open, the hot and dry air hit your face like a blow dryer.

“I might become a ghoul just from the sun damage alone, good lord.” you tell yourself, instinctively shielding your eyes with your hand from the bright light.

You remember that you have a pair of goggles wrapped around your head, and you pull them down—your surroundings now dimmed through the dark glasses. A gust of sand stings your cheeks, so you pull up your bandana as well, making it cover the lower half of your face.

“We’ll be taking that bag, or else we’ll gut you like a pig.”

As you were occupied with preparing for the trek back to your base, you hadn’t noticed the two raiders sneaking up on you, now only a few meters away. You wince at the voice, and register that the pink-haired woman in the back has a crossbow, and the grimy man in front of you a machete—ready to pounce on you.

In a split second, you pull a grenade from your vest pocket and pull the pin with your thumb until it’s barely holding on.

“If you get any closer I’m letting it go, so you better use your peanut brain for once and walk the fuck away.” You try to give the raider in front of you the most menacing gaze you can muster, and you can see that he’s getting flustered.

“Shit Bonnie, what do we do?” He turns his head back at his partner, who’s equally confused about the situation.

She’s grimacing, but starts to lower the crossbow slightly.

“God damn it Frank! She looks ragged so she probably doesn’t have anything good anyway, let’s just head back.”

Frank starts to back off, as you demonstratively keep your hand with the grenade raised in front of them. Cursing under their breath, they disappear around the corner of the supermarket.

You huff, as you push the pin back in and pocket the grenade. It’s just a dummy, but it has saved you several times already. Raiders aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed after all.

You try to shake off the tingle of anxiety in your body, as you set course for your current hideout.

This area has mostly been fruitless, but you’ve heard of a larger settlement, Megaton, that should be around here somewhere. You’re hoping there’s prospects for trading or at least some odd jobs you can do for caps.

The sky is relatively clear today, and you can feel the sun beating down on you.

Days like these are the hardest to survive, the constant thirst and your skin drying up, but they make for the prettiest nights with even the Milky Way on display above you.

That’s what you’re living for now. The rare magical moments when you’re reminded that there’s still beauty in the world, despite the destruction and violence of the wasteland.

You spot a Red Rocket gas station in the distance—your hideout in its vicinity.

As you round the wreck of a yellow school bus, a sharp blade hits your throat—grazing your skin.

“I couldn’t let you humiliate me like that I’m afraid, any last words little girl?”

A rotten breath hits your nostrils. Frank is back.

You can hear a woman snicker above you, Bonnie squatting on the top of the bus observing you below.

“Why don’t you both just fuck o-”

A sharp sound cracks the air and you drop to your knees.

Frank collapses in front of you.

He’s got a dime sized hole exiting through his eye—a projectile must have entered in the back of his head.

“Frank! What did you do to him?” Bonnie shrieks in agony above you.

“I-ugh, I didn’t do anything?” You retort, as it sinks in that you’re out in the open, vulnerable to whatever struck Frank.

You start to crawl behind the bus again, as Bonnie jumps down to Frank’s corpse.

Another crack rings out, and it’s suddenly silent now. You can’t hear any of Bonnie’s vailing anymore.

Your mind races.

Who’s shooting? Super Mutants aren’t really known for their precision with rifles, and it’s been ages since you’ve seen anyone from the Brotherhood out here.

It could be a rivaling raider group, but why would they waste precious ammo on a couple of low lives like them?

You can hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, as adrenaline pumps through your veins.

You’ve got your back against the bus now, with what’s likely to be two corpses piled up on the other side, with the gas station about 3-400 meters away.

You go through your options.

You could stay here shielded and wait, but for how long? Is 10 minutes enough? An hour? All night? It ultimately feels like a gamble, and the fresh blood and guts is bound to attract all sorts of abominations.

You didn’t survive twice today just to get eaten by a feral ghoul or a swarm of stingwings.

There’s really only one option—it’s still a gamble, but you reckon you’re dealing with someone who’s got more than half a brain in this situation, so it might just pay off.

You round the corner of the bus with your arms raised.

Your pulse quickens.

“Please please please”, you mutter under your breath, hoping you’re not taking your last breaths as you speak.

Nothing happens.

You quickly gaze down and see a patchwork of bright pink hair spread all over the ground. Bonnie’s head had exploded like a watermelon.

You gag from the sickening display, but you keep walking forwards. You must be dealing with skilled snipers.

You’re starting to believe that they’re letting you live now, as you’re walking uphill towards the gas station. They have to be located somewhere straight ahead of you, judging by where Frank’s head first was pierced.

You’re almost standing outside the Red Rocket now, your arms starting to ache from their upright position.

“Hey,” you hear a man’s deep voice from above, and gaze upwards “goggles and mask off please.”

You can’t see him, as the bright sunlight hits you directly in the eyes.

You slide your goggles back up on the top of your head now, and pull your bandana down to your neck, exposing your face.

There’s a beat of silence between you.

“Wait there.” He’s gone before you can reply.

It feels a bit odd to be commanded by a stranger, but you’re not taking any more chances today, and decide to stay put.

The glass door in front of you opens, and a tall figure materialises.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of the goggles, his face gets clearer. His hair is dark brown and tousled, his eyes hooded complimented by a wide and sharp jawline.

You notice that you’re holding your breath, clearly taken aback by a handsome face after having grimy raiders all up in your business for ages now.

He stands right in front of you, with a rather unanimated look on his face. You hadn’t expected a warm welcome, but still.

“I need to search you, okay?” His request surprises you, but it makes sense.

“Yes, of course.” You reply dryly, and he’s suddenly got his hands on you.

He grabs your shoulders first, patting along your arms out to your wrists.

You focus on his face, and he seems to be concentrating on the task at hand.

“I need to touch your sides as well.”

He looks at you and tips his head slightly. You give him a nod of permission.

He places his hands on the sides of your torso now, his thumbs brushing along the outline of your chest. You realise it’s been a really long time since a man touched you like this, even though there’s several layers of fabric between his palms and your skin, but you still feel a blush bloom in your cheeks.

He pats you downwards meticulously, landing on your hips. You feel his hands linger there for just a second longer than he needs to, but he quickly clears his throat continuing down your legs.

He pats up the insides of them as well, ending on your inner thighs in a relatively respectful distance from your crotch.

“Good. One last thing though.”

He’s back up now, leaning his face towards yours. You take a sudden intake of breath as you can feel the warmth radiate off of him on your skin. You feel his fingers on the back of your neck, snaking up into your messy bun.

His touch makes your skin tingle. He tangles them in your thick hair, searching around for any hidden items.

“You never know, you could hide a little switchblade up in there.”

“Or snacks!” You giggle, and he turns to you.

He raises one eyebrow quizzically.

You look at him with a timid smile, wondering if he’s the type of guy that can appreciate a dry joke.

“I’m Wonwoo by the way, and you?” he says in a deep voice.

“I’m [Y/n], but my friends used to call me Boo.”

“You have friends? Lucky.”

You giggle at his response.

“If they’re still alive, but I doubt it.” There’s a silence between you again, the gravity of your reality creeping back in.

You both stand in silence now, taking each other in.

“So Boo, why should I keep you around?”

You furrow your brows.

“Keep me around? Why do you think I want to be kept around?”

Wonwoo smirks, and crosses his arms.

“Well I just saved your life, so it seems like it's in your interest to be honest.”

You take a moment to reflect on his words.

He’s not completely wrong—he’s pretty much onto something.

Every day has been a struggle in the wasteland, and you can’t deny that luck has been on your side several times now, what if it runs out?

“Fair enough,” he chuckles “well, I’m trained in hand-to-hand combat,” he raises his eyebrows “and I’ve got some medical training as well.”

He actually looks impressed.

“Really. Where did you learn these things?”

You decide to be honest.

“In the vault.” His eyebrows lift even higher now.

“A vault dweller, of course. I should’ve known judging by your complexion alone.”

You can feel his eyes study your face.

“Thank you, I guess?”

He snickers, and you suddenly feel a pang of shame. You didn’t want him to think that you’re shallow.

“Alright Boo, you better stay the night and we can plan further tomorrow morning—you probably have a stash around here somewhere?”

He opens the door now, and you’re on his heels.

“I do. There’s not much, but I have water, cans and chems.”

A large plank leading up through a hole in the ceiling appears, and you climb up behind Wonwoo.

You exit on the top of the gas station, where he’s drawn a tarp across some of it, probably to shield himself from the sun. A bunch of tires and planks line the edges of the roof.

A massive sniper rifle is situated in an opening, with several rounds of ammo spread around it.

He’s even got a gas stove setup, as well as a sleeping bag under the tarp. His hideout is exposed, but only for flying creatures. It’s quite genius actually.

“Nice setup you have here—it needs a woman’s touch though.” You grin at him, and he can’t hide his amusement.

“Anyway, are you hungry?” He’s reaching down to open an old cooler, pulling out a box of instamash.

“I’m starving,” you unbuckle your bag and pull out the can of dog food, “here’s some protein as well.”

He grabs the can, nodding in approval.

It stays silent between you for a while, while Wonwoo lights the gas cooker and starts preparing the meal.

You can feel the exhaustion from the day hit you, as you slide down on the roof next to the stove. You exhale, and watch as he stirs the small pot. You half expected it to be awkward between the two of you, but it’s not. The silence feels natural—it’s even comforting.

You can’t remember the last time you relaxed next to another person. Maybe back in the vault? Your mind drifts, all the faces of your classmates appearing in front of you. Running in the hallways. Blissfully unaware of the devastation outside.

He’s filling up a bowl now, handing it over to you.

“Thank you, it actually smells pretty decent.”

You both dig in, and the silence continues as you’re scarfing down the food.

When you’ve finished your bowl, you grab one of the purified waters you picked up earlier, and hand it to Wonwoo.

His eyes widen a bit at the gesture, these bottles are hard to come by.

“You did save my life after all.”

・❥・

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[leggerefiore]

hi! This is my first time requesting you and i just LOVE the way you write the dragon cookies, especially ananas. Im glad theyre finally getting more attention thanks to you. Ive been starving for ananas content, checking on tumblr if there are any new fanfics of ananas on a daily basis. When i saw your writing i immediately jumped and got so excited and happy. Im a really big fan of ananas dragon and i am MADLY obsessed with them they are the best. So i was wondering if i could request for yandere ananas dragon? If thats possible, i hope you dont mind, and i hope you are comfortable with that. I just wanna make sure! Thats all i suppose, id love to see more yandere ananas content actually. Maybe yandere raging calamity? I REALLY love raging calamity ananas too,,praise devsisters for making it. I love them soso much. Anyways, have a nice day wherever you are! Take care! Ty for listening! And if i have said something wrong im rlly sorry! 

so, as I'm reading this, you want Yandere Raging Calamity Ananas, yeah?

🍍Raging Calamity Ananas Dragon Cookie Yandere HCs🏖

cw: yandere, unhealthy relationships, dark content

🟡 The loss of everything dear to the dragon drove them to madness – Everything was too painful and nothing made them feel complete. A desperation for purpose and to make others suffer as much as they had let a certain other dragon guide them in aiding their plans. Mortals feared their presence, as it only brought destruction and death. Nothing remained. They were haunted endlessly by their failures. But, what hurt worst of all was the loss of their mate. The emptiness left in their heart would never be refilled. No other could have such a title.

🟡 But, within the screams of agony and destruction brought within their wake, something seemed so familiar. A scent. Something unmistakable. The dragon's wings fluttered them down to the ground. Many scents mixed in, but they fixated on that one. They rushed through the destroyed terrain. Unconscious on the ground lied a mortal. One that made the dragon land. Feet brought them to the mortal's side, falling to their knees. A familiar scent… They pulled back their shirt to reveal a clear mark.

🟡 Their sole chance of redemption came. Within their new nest, they hid you away. Their precious mate. How you survived… Ananas cared not to ask. All that mattered was that you did. When you awoke, you crawled away in a panic, crying to be left alone. The dragon froze. Why were you afraid? They were your mate! They were your protector. It frustrated them as they leaned over you. Your eyes closed, refusing to look at them. This was unacceptable. They pulled you into them and stroked your hair, like they used to. It was impossible to return to those sunny days on their island paradise, but you would be safe.

🟡 Slowly, you adjusted to being with the changed dragon. It was not an easy process, as you had tried to flee from the protection of their nest a few times. Ananas naturally was able to catch you every time. The entrance was sealed anyways – The dragon only feeling safe within the depths of the earth. You refused to be near them as well, struggling in their hold and refusing to accept their affection. It was horrible. All they wanted was to cling to you and smother you in the attention that they had been denied to give to you. It was not a deterrent. No, rather, it encouraged them more.

🟡 When you finally did come around, the dragon swore they clung to you for days straight. Your smaller frame was held to their body… Your scent, so comforting. The small sounds you made… Ananas wanted to drown in your presence. Oh, how they had mourned you. Their adorable mate… You were so fragile – so weak and dependent on them. Having you with this once more, they could only give into their desperate indulgence. You would never leave their protection again. Ananas would fully destroy everything should they lose you ever again.

🟡 The dragon is utterly delusional to however you might feel about them now. Even if you cry that you hate them and despise how many innocent people they killed in their rampage, Ananas sees it just as a fit. You were upset over how they failed to protect you – it was okay. You were okay. They reassure you that you will be safe now. Your attempts to push them away are just panicked reactions from what you went through. Ananas will hold you tighter and show their undying devotion.

🟡 It is so hard to resist them. At times, they may even seem like the old Ananas, haughty and prideful, but just once glance into those eerie purple eyes reminds you that they are no longer the dragon you knew. Losing everything changed them irreversibly. Their embraces were too tight, their words too possessive. You would never leave them again, and this time you lacked a gilded cage of comfort to distract you. Ananas would still go off to continue their rampage. Their return would have them glance at you and mumble promises that the Longan dragon would never find you, nor would the others. You were their precious treasure. No one could take you from them.

🟡 There is truly no escape from the Raging Calamity formerly known as the Golden Dragon, but… If you act the part of the adoring mate they remember, glimmers of their past self will escape them. You will learn to enjoy those moments because otherwise… you are stuck with a being that only desires destruction. Maybe you can save them from this path and remind them of who they were, but… Maybe they are also too far gone. Either way, you are kept securely in their nest. Anyone who dares try to take you will meet an awful end.

[kaoriartss-blog]

Starburst

Chapter 20: "Class in Session"

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Pairing: Poly Skz OT8 x Reader idol

Genre: Romance, angst, female Oc

Warning: Use of Oc, romance, angst, swearing, Idol x Idol, 18+ progressive, use of swear words, use of translator.

Series: Starbursts

Summary: The story centers on Lia, a newly debuted solo idol struggling to find her place in the K-pop industry. Despite her talent, she feels like she's missing something, a special connection that helps her shine. The members of Stray Kids, who are at the height of their careers, are drawn to Lia's unique energy when she's invited to collaborate with them on a new album. As they work together, the connection between Lia and the boys intensifies. With pressure from the media and fan expectations, they must find a balance between their careers and personal lives.

Comment: First of all, I want to clarify that English is not my first language. I speak Spanish, but I didn't want to deprive you of this story. I'll be using a translator, so it's possible that some phrases might get lost or be incomprehensible. Second, I thank you in advance for taking the time to read. I'll also be uploading the chapters to Wattpad in Spanish and to Ao3 in English.

Updates on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays. I also remind you that English is not my first language.

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

The Knowing Brothers set was prepared with more energy than ever. Cameras were rolling, and the staff couldn't hide their excitement at having the full Stray Kids group and Lia in the studio. The chairs in the classroom were packed, and the excitement was contagious.

Kang Ho-dong was the first to speak as soon as they entered:

"Woah! Today we have not one, not two, but nine idols in the room! Welcome, Stray Kids and Lia!"

"Annyeonghaseyo!" everyone greeted with a synchronized bow, although Han stumbled a little, prompting immediate laughter.

Lee Soo-geun looked at them mischievously.

"Lia-ssi, you're new here. What's it like living with these eight walking chaos?"

Lia laughed, locking eyes with Minho and Felix.

"It's like living on a 24-hour comedy show. They don't let me get bored."

Heechul chimed in with a raised eyebrow.

"And haven't you fallen in love with any of them?"

There was a pause. Everyone laughed nervously as Seungmin faked a cough, Hyunjin hid his face behind his notebook, and Changbin leaned back dramatically.

"Next question!" Chan joked, causing a burst of laughter.

---

First test of the day: "Who knows Lia best?"

The screen showed several questions prewritten by Lia, and the kids had to answer on whiteboards.

First question: My favorite Korean snack?

"Tteokbokki!" most wrote, except for Jeongin, who put honey butter chips.

"Correct!" Lia shouted, surprised. "Jeongin knew!"

"Because you steal them every time I eat them," he replied with a triumphant smile.

Second question: What's the hardest part of me to accept?

Everyone here became more serious.

Felix wrote: Your tendency to push yourself too hard.

Hyunjin: Your insecurity about fitting in.

Chan, without saying anything, wrote: Your voice... when it's the most beautiful thing you have.

Lia looked at them, visibly moved.

"They're all good... but Chan's touched my heart."

--

Random talent round.

"Now everyone will show off a hidden talent!" Heechul announced.

Minho showed how he could imitate a cat meowing while dancing.

Han beatboxed video game sounds.

Lia did some Taekwondo moves and demonstrated how high she can kick even in high heels, bringing everyone to their feet.

"That's going to break the internet!" Soo-geun exclaimed.

---

Final Moment: Secret Letters

Before the show ended, the hosts gave everyone a piece of paper.

"We want each of you to write a line for someone in the group... but don't say who it's for."

Lia, after some thought, wrote:

"Thank you for looking at me like I'm the only miracle in your day."

Changbin wrote:

"I hug you silently every time I see you hesitate."

Hyunjin:

"Your eyes shine brighter when you laugh. And I know because I watch them all the time."

The hosts read some of them aloud, leaving the audience and viewers with a mixture of laughter and sighs.

---

As the episode closed, the host summarized:

"We've never seen a group with such a strong connection. Not just musically, but humanly!"

Lia spoke up:

"I think that's why this album is called Connections. Because it's who we are. And what we want to share."

The van taking them home was unusually quiet. It wasn't an awkward silence, but one filled with thoughts, stifled laughter, and meaningful exchanges of glances.

Lia was leaning on Seungmin's shoulder, who looked at her out of the corner of his eye with a small smile. Across from them, Hyunjin absentmindedly played with Lia's fingers as their hands briefly met while passing her a bottle of water. Changbin, sitting next to her, watched her breathing become calmer and calmer as she closed her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he murmured in her ear, his voice hoarse from the tiredness and excitement of the day.

"Yeah... I'm just happy," Lia whispered, her fingers searching for his. They intertwined naturally.

---

Upon arriving home, some went straight to their bedrooms, but others stayed in the living room, unwilling to let the day end just yet.

Felix plopped down on the couch next to Lia.

"Did you notice how we were all on edge during the entire show?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Yeah. It's not like it used to be..." she replied, looking him straight in the eyes.

He watched her for a few more seconds, and without saying anything, he caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, then leaned in and placed a slow kiss on her forehead, leaving her skin prickling and her heart fluttering.

"I'm going to sleep before I do anything more daring," he joked softly and stood up with a mischievous smile.

---

In the kitchen, Jeongin was making himself some tea when Lia came in looking for water. As soon as they looked at each other, the atmosphere changed.

"Did you have fun today?" he asked, turning to her with his usual calm tone, but a more intense gaze.

"A lot. I felt... free."

He nodded, approaching with his steaming cup.

"What if this freedom... also means I can do this?" he asked, his voice barely audible, letting his hand rest gently on her waist.

Lia looked at him, her eyes searching for any doubt, but found only tenderness. She leaned toward him, and this time she was the one who kissed him. Soft, slow, and with a connection that burned without haste.

As they broke away, Jeongin rested his forehead against hers.

"I'll have sweet dreams tonight."

---

In the hallway, Lia went to get something from her room, but stopped when Chan came out of his own.

"Hey," he said, his voice deep. "Can't you sleep?"

"Not yet," she replied, moving closer.

Chan took her hand and silently led her to the small rehearsal room, the lights off, only the blue illumination of the hallway seeping through the door.

The background music came from her phone, something instrumental and soft.

Without words, they began to sway slowly to the melody, their bodies pressed together. Their hands explored each other confidently, unhurriedly. Chan's forehead rested on hers, their noses touching.

"You know?" he whispered. "I like it when we don't have to talk. Just... feel."

The kiss they shared was different. Deeper. As if sealing a silent commitment between the two.

---

Later, as Lia walked toward her room, a door opened.

Minho was there, wearing a light robe, staring at her silently. She stopped, her eyes connecting with his. Without needing words, he offered her his hand.

They just lay together in his bed, side by side, their bodies touching intimately but serenely. Minho silently stroked her hair.

"I just wanted to sleep with you... like this. Feeling you real."

Lia snuggled into his chest and let herself be carried away by that feeling of warmth, of belonging.

She settled onto the mattress, facing him, still dressed in her light pajamas. Minho, his robe open just enough to reveal her chest, watched her with a mixture of tenderness and restrained desire. They didn't need to speak; the silence that surrounded them spoke louder than any words.

Their fingers met between the sheets, gently intertwining. Minho slowly slid his hand up her arm, to her shoulder, caressing her as if her skin were fragile. His eyes remained fixed on hers, as if asking for permission with every gesture.

When he kissed her, it was with overwhelming sweetness. A warm, slow touch that deepened as their hearts raced. Lia responded fearlessly, opening her lips to receive him, feeling his breath mingle with hers. Their bodies moved closer instinctively, as if they were made to fit together.

Minho sat up slightly to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. His fingers trembled slightly, not from hesitation, but from suppressed emotion.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Yes," Lia said with a small smile, taking his hand and placing it on her waist. "I want this. I want to be with you, like this."

The air grew thicker, charged with a desire they could no longer hide, nor would they hide. Minho kissed her again, this time more intensely. His lips descended along her neck, leaving a trail of heat. His patient hands began to slide the strap of Lia's blouse down, caressing her exposed shoulder. She shivered, not from the cold, but from anticipation.

When their bodies were finally naked, there was no shame, only a sense of mutual surrender. Minho watched her for a few seconds, his breath ragged, admiring her with a mixture of wonder and reverence. Lia caressed his face, guiding him toward her.

"I can't believe Hyunjin was the first... I'm so jealous..." he murmured against her skin, leaving soft kisses along the path he traced with his lips. "But now, you're all mine."

He descended down her body with slow kisses, caressing her with his lips and hands. Lia arched her back under his attentions, her fingers clutching the sheets as he patiently explored every corner.

"You're beautiful," he murmured against her skin, unable to take his eyes off her. Lia felt embarrassed; Minho's gaze was quite intense, so she covered her eyes with her hands. "Don't hide, look at me."

"Minho~"

When she called his name in a sigh, he kissed her lips again, carefully settling between her legs.

His plan was to prepare her properly, but he felt he couldn't hold back any longer; just seeing her like that was already almost over the edge.

Their gaze met one last time as he took a small silver envelope from the nightstand and placed it inside her. And when Minho entered her, he did so Slowly, taking the time to feel her, to allow her to feel him. Lia exhaled deeply, clinging to his shoulders, their bodies merging in a gentle, almost meditative sway.

They moved with a rhythm that didn't obey urgent desire, but rather the silent love they had been building. Each moan was drowned in a kiss, each caress answered with another, as if writing a new language on each other's skin.

The climax came like a warm wave, enveloping them at the same time, their bodies trembling and their lips still joined. Minho hugged her tightly, breathing deeply against her neck, and Lia said nothing, just closed her eyes and allowed herself to be enveloped by his warmth.

They remained that way, still without separating, until their breathing calmed. Minho slowly stroked her back while she played with the strands of her hair.

"I didn't know it could feel like this..." he murmured, kissing her collarbone.

"Nor I..." Lia said, her voice still shaky but filled with peace.

And that night, they didn't sleep at all. They lay between whispers and silence, caressing each other under the sheets, as if time had stopped just for them.