#simpers come simp

[ukelele-boy]

Chilling

(I wanted to practice hair so I used a reference for the face and body anatomy.)

[iceclew]

OK, I agreed with myself to be decent for one more day. Write an application, go outside and get some sun with the dogs, then finish the last promt's art for Hoshikafweek2025.

And after that I allow myself to buy and install Kingdom Come: Deliverance 1 and if it's meant to be get hella lost in a single player game again for hours <3

[theredcuyo]

Sqq wonders how he should plan the wingmaning this time around with Hualian, then sees them together and is having a stroke while muttering something no one understands

Then Binghe goes "Oh, right, i know who knows Shizun's secret language"

He proceeds to kidnap Sqh and release them in the same room, then proceeds to watch from afar, along with Lwj and Wwx who want to know what is going on

"Uh... Bro? Why did your husband kidnap me, what happened?"

"Bro... Bro, My good bro..."

"Okay, holy fuck, what happened"

"Bro... Bro i'm so glad you wrote them normal, bro"

"Bro?"

Sqq took Sqh by the shoulders and looked straight into his eyes "Bro... He's a simp, the biggest simp to ever simp"

"No fucking way"

"I'm being for real bro, it's the biggest simpering i've ever witness and I've seen you looking at Mobei's tits"

"BRO, NO, IT CAN'T BE THAT BAD- and hey, i don't simp! Your husband simps!"

"My Binghe is just a very devoted husband, thank you very much" Sqq said, then gave Sqh a look "Okay, whatever You say, but you gotta understand me with the tits here, bro, they're huge"

"Yeah, well, even your simpering doesn't reach his"

"Come on, you've gotta be exagger-

"He tried to gift him a whole fucking mansion"

"... I stand corrected and i wrote those tits"

[emjayewrites]

the boys trip • jules kounde one shot

SYNOPSIS: Jules gets roped into another one of AK's matchmaking schemes during what was supposed to be a boys' trip to Lapland. Despite his friend's historically terrible taste in setting him up, this time might be different when he meets Y/N. What happens in Lapland should stay in Lapland, but some things may be worth bringing back home. INSPIRED BY: this & this moodboard by my faves!

PAIRINGS: Jules Koundé x fem!black!reader (Y/N)

WARNINGS: cursing, drinking, smut — 18+ only

WORD COUNT: over 10K, so please show some love!!

TAGLIST: @irishmanwhore, @sucredreamer, @judesvirtual, @saturnville, @peyiswriting, @greedyjudge2, @alika-4466, @julescpu, @lettersofgold, @hopefulromantic1, @a-moment-captured, @serpenttines-library, @f1-football-fiend, @purplelewlew, @enretrogue, @yeea-nah @127hydrangeas, @sunfairyy, @pinkcatcus, @muglermami, @bbgkoo, @sinflowersugar @cranberryjulce, @lev-1-1, @deonn-jaelle, @mufasathatniggatho

The private terminal at Paris Charles de Gaulle was quiet except for AK's pacing and animated phone conversation. Jules slouched further in his leather seat, watching his friend – all confident swagger even at 7 AM, his caesar fade fresh and goatee perfectly lined – sweet-talk his girl in English.

"Baby, just—no, I know security's a pain but— Yes, love, I know…"

Wilhelm caught Jules' eye, his light brown fro slightly squished from the beanie he'd just removed, and they shared a knowing look while Stef and Nas bickered over their usual FIFA argument. Typical morning – Nas pushing his shaggy brown hair out of his eyes while insisting PSG was clear, Stef's curly fade catching the morning light as he defended Arsenal with his whole chest.

"Elles arrivent dans dix minutes," (They'll be here in ten minutes) AK announced after hanging up, running a hand over his fade. "La sécurité était supplémentaire, apparemment." (Security was being extra, apparently)

"Depuis quand parlez-vous London roadman?" Nas teased. (Since when do you speak London roadman)

"Depuis qu’il a commencé à simper," Stef added, dodging AK's half-hearted swing. (Since he started simping)

Jules stayed quiet, scrolling through Instagram without really seeing it. This season had been kicking his ass, Barcelona's form worse than he'd seen it, and all he'd wanted was a few days with his boys to decompress. No game analysis, no press, no expectations. Just vibes.

When AK had first floated the idea of bringing Van along, Jules had been firmly against it. He got it – long distance was rough, with her in London and AK running his luxury concierge business in Paris. The few times Jules had met her, she'd seemed cool enough, but this trip was supposed to be about escaping everything, including relationship drama, but AK had been persistent.

"Look, I barely see her these days. This trip is the only time that works with our schedules, and..." He'd paused, that look in his eye that always meant trouble. "She's bringing a friend. Might be good for you, get your mind off this season."

The last time AK played matchmaker still haunted him – that disaster in Mykonos last summer with the Instagram model who spent more time staging photos than having actual conversations. Or the "entrepreneur" before that who turned out to just be selling detox teas on social media. His friend meant well, but…he was garbage at picking girls for him.

It wasn't that Jules was picky – okay, maybe he was. But he had standards. He appreciated a natural beauty, curves that didn't come from a surgeon's table in Turkey. Like what was wrong with stretch marks and cellulite? More importantly, he wanted substance. Someone building something real, not just chasing clout or a footballer's lifestyle. His last few hookups had been a wash-rinse-repeat cycle of the same type: beautiful but boring, more interested in being seen with him than seeing him.

"You're too bougie," AK always said. "Too picky."

"I know what I like," was Jules' standard response.

And what he wanted wasn't another Instagram baddie with a BBL and empty conversations. He wanted—

"Oh shit, they're here."

Jules looked up, ready to be annoyed, and...

Oh. Oh.

Van glided in first in her brown faux fur coat and babushka hat, but her friend made Jules sit up straighter. She moved differently – this quiet grace about her as she followed behind. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun, baby hairs laid so precisely it looked like art, and when she smiled at AK's introduction, the small gap between her front teeth and deep dimples hit something in Jules' chest.

Her style was effortless – the turtleneck was clearly expensive but not flashy, paired with brown ski leggings, boots, puffer, and gold jewelry. Everything about her seemed intentional but not trying too hard, from her perfect posture to the way her pants hugged her ass just right without being obvious about it.

"Alright," AK said, his whole face lighting up as Van kissed his cheek. "Let me introduce everyone properly. This goddess right here is my girl Vanessa—"

"Van," she corrected with a playful eye roll, her West London accent wrapping around the word.

"Van," AK amended, "and this is her best friend Y/N. Ladies, meet the guys – that's Wilhelm with the fro, Stef and Nas are the ones looking stressed about whatever FIFA argument they're having, and this quiet one right here is Jules."

"Hey!! We about to turn up in Lapland!" Van announced while Y/N just offered a small wave, those long lashes framing eyes that seemed to take everything in quietly.

Jules found himself standing, fixing his Jacquemus sweater without thinking about it. Not that he cared what she thought.

"Ladies and gentlemen," a flight attendant appeared, perfectly poised in her uniform. "We're ready for boarding."

"Let the ladies through first," AK said.

Van practically bounced up the stairs to the plane. "Oh my days, this is proper bougie!" Her voice carried back down. "Y/N, look at this!"

And then Jules heard it – Y/N's voice, soft and melodic with a lilting British accent that was somehow a bit posh and warm. "It's beautiful," she said simply, and something about the understated appreciation in her tone made his chest tight.

But watching her settle into a seat near the window, pulling out a book (who brings a book on a trip to Lapland?), Jules had to admit – maybe, just maybe, AK wasn't completely fucking up their vacation.

Even if he'd never tell him that.

"You good?" Wilhelm asked quietly in French, catching Jules staring.

"Juste fatigué," Jules replied, but they both knew it was cap.

"Liar," Wilhelm teased under his breath.

"Ta gueule," (Shut up) Jules muttered, but he couldn't help noticing how different Y/N was from Van, who was already talking about the clubs they had to hit. There was something understated about her, the way she moved, the slight smile when she caught him looking.

Fuck.

This was not how this trip was supposed to go. He was supposed to be decompressing, forgetting about his shit season, not noticing how a stranger's collarbones peeked out from her turtleneck or how she smelled like something expensive but subtle as she passed him in the aisle to use the bathroom.

"T'es dans la merde," (You're in trouble) Wilhelm muttered, and Jules couldn't even argue.

Three hours into their seven-hour flight to Rovaniemi, Jules found himself doing that thing he swore he wouldn't do – stealing glances at Y/N from his single seat across the aisle. He'd settled into that classic position – slouched with legs spread, one hand propped on his chin, thumb absently stroking his goatee – trying to look casual while very much not being casual at all.

Van's shriek of laughter cut through the cabin as AK whispered something in her ear in their back twin seats, followed by sounds Jules really didn't need to hear. But Y/N seemed unbothered, completely absorbed in her book – an actual paper book, not just scrolling on her phone like most girls he knew. He caught the title: "The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo." That book that was all over TikTok, the one his sister wouldn't shut up about. And was that... a kitten bookmark?

Check box one, he thought. She reads actual books.

The flight attendant moved through the cabin, setting up champagne and an elaborate spread of charcuterie and pastries. Y/N got up gracefully, fixing herself a small plate with careful consideration, and returned to her seat. A small smile played on her lips as she read, and Jules found himself wondering what part of the story caused that reaction.

Stop being a creep, he chided himself. But he couldn't help noticing how her turtleneck hugged her curves, how her crossed legs seemed to go on forever. This could get messy – she was his best friend's girl's best friend after all. But then again, Van brought her for a reason...

Stop being a pussy and just talk to her.

Jules did another scan of the cabin. Nas and Stef were knocked out cold, their light snores creating a gentle backdrop. Wilhelm was lost in his Switch game, probably destroying someone online in Mario Kart. And AK and Van were... yeah, definitely preoccupied.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Jules smoothly stood and slid into the empty seat beside Y/N. She looked up from her book, those long lashes framing curious eyes.

"What's up?" He aimed for cool but heard the slight nervousness in his voice.

"Just getting to the good part," she replied, her soft British accent making even those simple words sound melodic.

"Evelyn Hugo, huh?" He nodded toward the book. "Heard that one's good."

"You've read it?"

"Nah, but my sister's obsessed. Wouldn't stop talking about it in the family group chat."

Y/N's smile deepened, those dimples making an appearance. "It's worth the hype. I'm usually pretty varied with my reading though."

"Yeah? What else you into?"

"Bit of everything really. Some mysteries, biographies..." She paused, a mischievous glint in her eye. "The occasional spicy book."

Jules' eyebrows shot up. "Spicy like...?"

"You ever heard of 'Ice Planet Barbarians'?"

He had – another TikTok famous book, one that had people in the comments wilding about blue aliens and their unrealistically large sex organs.

She's a little freak, huh? "That's, uh..." He cleared his throat. "That's quite a range you got there."

Her laugh was soft but genuine. "Life's too short to stick to one genre, don't you think?"

Something about the way she said it, like she applied that philosophy to more than just books, made Jules lean in slightly. "What else you got on your reading list?"

As Y/N started describing a mix of upcoming reads, Jules found himself actually interested – not just pretending to be interested like he usually did when girls talked. The way her eyes lit up when she discussed her favorites, how she spoke with her hands when explaining particularly complex plots.

"So you're telling me you haven't read any Sally Rooney?" Y/N asked, turning slightly in her seat to face him better.

"Is that the Normal People author?"

"Mm, that's the one." She adjusted her bookmark – definitely a kitten, orange and white – before setting the book aside. "The show was good but the books hit different."

Jules shifted too, his long legs taking up more space than strictly necessary. "I'm more of a music person myself."

"Let me guess..." Y/N studied him for a moment, and something about her direct gaze made him want to fidget. "You've got that look about you. Definitely into fashion, probably listen to Steve Lacy? Kendrick Lamar?"

"Damn, am I that obvious?"

Her smile came with those crater-deep dimples again. "Your sweater's Jacquemus and your shoes are those limited Lewis Hamilton x Dior sneakers. You're either into fashion or you've got a really good stylist."

Now it was Jules' turn to be impressed. Most girls he met only knew the obvious brands, the ones you could easily flex on Instagram. "You know your stuff."

"I work in fashion editorial," she said with a small shrug. "Kind of have to."

Another box checked.

"Editorial?" He leaned forward slightly. "Which magazine?"

"I'm at British Vogue." She tucked a stray baby hair back, the movement drawing his attention to her elegant fingers, no overtly long fake nails in sight. "Junior editor assistant, nothing major yet."

"Nothing major, she says," Jules teased. "Just casually working at one of the biggest fashion magazines in the world."

"What about you? Besides the obvious football career, what gets you excited?"

They fell into an easy conversation about music (they shared a love for Frank Ocean), art (she'd just been to the new Basquiat exhibit he'd been meaning to see), and travel. Y/N had actual opinions, thoughtful ones, not just agreeing with whatever he said like he was used to.

"The vintage shopping there is insane," he said, talking about his time in Japan. "Like this one spot in Harajuku, they had original Raf Simons pieces I'd never seen before. And the food..."

"I've always wanted to go," Y/N said, her eyes lighting up. "The fashion archives alone must be incredible. Plus, I heard they have these cafes where—"

"Where you can drink coffee and play with cats?" Jules finished. "Yeah, they're everywhere. Way better than those fake Instagram spots everyone posts about."

"See, that's what I want to experience. The real culture, not just tourist traps." She tucked another stray baby hair back. "What was your favorite part?"

"This tiny ramen spot in a back alley. No pictures allowed, no social media. Just incredible food and this old man who's been making the same recipe for like forty years."

"That sounds perfect."

"You'd love it," Jules said without thinking. Then, realizing how presumptuous that sounded, added, "I mean..."

But Y/N just smiled. "Maybe I would."

Something about her genuine interest, the way she didn't immediately pull out her phone to check Instagram locations, made Jules sit back and really look at her. "You're dope, you know that?"

The slight flush on her cheeks made something in his chest tighten. "Because I want to eat ramen in back alleys?"

"Because you actually care about the experience. Most people I meet just want the picture for the gram, which is cool but still...I thought you'd be like that."

"Because I'm Van's friend?" She raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice.

"Because AK has terrible taste in setting me up."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, and Y/N's eyebrow arched delicately. "Oh? Is that what this is?"

Fuck. Me.

"I didn't mean—" Jules started, but her soft laugh cut him off.

"Relax. Van already told me about AK's matchmaking attempts." She glanced toward the back where AK and Van were finally sleeping. "The Mykonos story was particularly entertaining."

Jules groaned. "She told you about that?"

"Mm. Something about an Instagram model and a very expensive photoshoot gone wrong?"

"In my defense, I didn't know she'd brought a whole production crew."

Y/N's laugh was worth the embarrassment of reliving that memory. "Well, I can assure you I don't have a glam squad hidden in my carry-on."

"No? Not even a ring light for emergency selfies?"

"The only emergency items I packed are snacks and more books."

Jules felt himself smiling – a real smile, not his usual media-ready one. The kind that actually reached his eyes.

Something shifted in the air between them, the casual conversation taking on a different weight. Y/N held his gaze for a moment before looking away, but Jules caught the slight upturn of her lips.

"We should probably try to sleep," she said finally. "Long day still ahead."

"Right. Yeah." But he didn't move.

"Jules?"

"Mm?"

"That means you have to go back to your seat."

"Oh. Right." He stood, perhaps a bit reluctantly. "Thanks for... you know."

"For not being an Instagram model with a production crew?"

His laugh was soft. "Something like that."

As he settled back into his own seat, Jules couldn't help stealing one more glance. Y/N had already reopened her book, but he swore he saw her smile widen slightly.

Definitely in trouble.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we're beginning our descent into Rovaniemi Airport."

Jules blinked awake from his nap, the seven-hour flight having passed quicker than expected. Maybe because of that conversation... He pushed the thought away, stretching in his seat as the plane started its descent through snow-heavy clouds.

The landing was smooth, and Jules watched as Y/N stood to thank both flight attendants by name – Marie and Sophie – even asking about Sophie's baby she'd mentioned during meal service. She did the same with the pilots, genuine appreciation in her voice.

Another box checked.

The whole "be nice to service staff" thing wasn't exactly groundbreaking, but there was something about the way she did it – not performing kindness for an audience, just being genuinely thoughtful – that hit different.

Lapland's winter air slapped different too, the kind of cold that made him grateful for his cashmere beanie as they descended the plane stairs. He wasn't trying to be creepy, walking behind Y/N, but when her foot caught that patch of ice and she started to slip... his hands found her waist automatically.

"You good?"

She steadied herself, this little embarrassed laugh escaping. "Yeah, just... can I get a rewind button? Because that was embarrassing as fuck."

Something about the way she said it, like she was annoyed at herself but trying to play it cool, made him chuckle. "Consider it deleted from the record."

Their luggage situation was borderline ridiculous – his three suitcases for a week's worth of fits, her matching his energy with her own collection of bags.

"Someone came prepared," he couldn't help teasing, watching her oversee the arrangement of her bags on the cart.

Her smile was playful, dimples making another appearance. "Don't judge me. A girl needs options for the Instagram dump."

"Nah, that's actually valid. Fit pics are essential."

"Oh yeah?" She raised an eyebrow. "You bring your whole camera crew or something?"

"Just my Nikon and a drone."

She nudged his shoulder, the contact brief but enough to make him hyper-aware of her presence. "But not a whole production crew?"

Ah, she got jokes... "Listen," he said, trying to keep his face serious. "You can't disrespect the Northern Lights with iPhone quality. That's just wrong."

"Mhmmmm." The way she nodded, all exaggerated understanding, shouldn't have been as cute as it was. "Very professional of you."

"Y/N!" Van's voice cut through whatever was building between them. "Stop flirting and come on, we need to get through customs!"

The customs line crawled by, but Jules found himself not minding, especially when Y/N would catch his eye and they'd share silent amusement at Van's increasing dramatics about the wait.

Their driver was posted up at arrivals with a sign for AK's company – "1 Pourcent Concierge" in sleek lettering because AK never missed a branding opportunity. The private coach was exactly what you'd expect from someone whose whole business was luxury experiences, complete with a mini bar that Van spotted immediately.

"Time to get this party started!" She was already reaching for bottles.

Wilhelm checked his phone, looking tired. "It's 2 in the afternoon."

"We're on vacation!" Van started lining up shots like they were at Tape London instead of just landing in the Arctic Circle. "Stop being a party pooper!"

Jules watched Y/N slip to the back of the bus, pulling out that same book from earlier. He must have been staring because Wilhelm's voice cut into his thoughts.

"Je ne sais pas pourquoi tu fais semblant de ne pas vouloir la rejoindre," Wilhelm said low enough that only Jules could hear. (I don't know why you're pretending you don't want to go join her)

Stef, never one to miss an opportunity to clown him, snorted. "Tu sais que Jules est timide." (You know Jules is shy.)

Jules flipped him off, but Stef just grinned wider.

"I'm chilling," Jules said, but even he could hear how unconvincing it sounded.

"Bullshit," Wilhelm and Stef chorused.

"I don't want to do too much," Jules tried to explain. "Nous venons de parler dans l’avion. Si j’y retourne maintenant..." (We just talked on the plane. If I go back there now)

"Quoi, elle pensera que tu es intéressé?" Stef's eye roll was Olympic-level. "Assez sûr que le navire a navigué, mon frère." (What, she'll think you're interested…Pretty sure that ship has sailed)

"Merde, si tu ne veux pas lui parler..." Nas dramatically ran his fingers through his hair, preening. "I will."

Before Jules could say anything, Nas was heading toward the back of the bus. At that exact moment, Van cranked up some Drake song and started twerking.

Jules pulled out his noise-canceling AirPods with what might have been the biggest eye roll of his life. He tried to focus on Frank Ocean instead of the way Y/N's laugh carried from the back of the bus – probably at something Nas said, which shouldn't have annoyed him but did.

He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew, they were pulling up to their home for the week. The cabin was crazy in the best way – all floor-to-ceiling windows and modern wooden architecture that somehow managed to look both cozy and expensive as hell. The deck wrapped around the whole structure, perfect for Northern Lights viewing, not that he was already thinking about how that could play out.

"Ladies first," he said as they entered, immediately regretting it when Van's excited shriek pierced his eardrums.

"Come on, Y/N!" Van grabbed her friend's hand. "Let's check out the rooms before these boys mess them up!"

Y/N shot Jules an apologetic look as she was dragged upstairs, and he had to fight back a smile. Van's "Oh my god, this one has a FIREPLACE!" echoed down the stairs, followed by Y/N's softer laugh that was already becoming way too familiar.

"T'es foutu," Wilhelm said, clapping Jules on the shoulder as he passed. (You're screwed.)

_______________________________________________

The den of their cabin was peak luxury winter vibes – all exposed wooden beams showing off the snowy landscape, but Jules was barely registering any of it. They'd been killing time until dinner, everyone doing their own thing. Wilhelm was in his gaming zone, Nas and Stef were arguing about upcoming Premier League matches, and AK was texting someone about work because he never really stopped working.

And Y/N? She was upstairs napping, which shouldn't have annoyed him but kind of did. Not that he needed her around, but her presence would've been better than Van's constant complaints about her nails not being done right or whatever else she was going on about before she got ready for dinner.

Jules had nothing against Van. She made AK happy, even if sometimes he wondered how his boy dealt with… all that. But not his woman, not his problem.

The sound of heels on wooden stairs made everyone look up. Van strutted – literally strutted – down in what had to be the tiniest leather dress Jules had ever seen.

"Babe, it's negative twenty-three degrees," AK said, though his eyes said he wasn't exactly mad about the outfit.

Van gave him a look. "I know, that's why I got the fur coat."

"What fur coat—" Jules began, but the words died in his throat because that's when Y/N appeared.

Holy fuck.

She'd let her hair down from that bun, now styled in a middle part with curls. Her own outfit was giving winter goddess – some maroon designer dress he couldn't even focus on because his brain was short-circuiting, and yeah, she was carrying two fur coats.

"Thank god!" Stef broke the moment. "I'm starving!"

The bus ride to the igloo restaurant should've been awkward, but Jules found himself sliding into the seat next to Y/N before he could overthink it.

"Good nap?" he asked, aiming for casual.

"Mm, needed it." Her smile was soft, sleep-warm. "These time zones are killing me."

"Wait till tomorrow when we go snowmobiling. Wilhelm's already talking about racing."

"Oh yeah?" She turned slightly toward him. "You any good on a snowmobile?"

"Better than Nas. Man crashed three times last time we went."

"I heard that," Nas called from behind them. "And it was twice, respect the facts."

The igloo was something else – set in the middle of a forest clearing, stars scattered above them like diamonds. No Northern Lights yet, but the sky was doing its own kind of magic.

Their chef appeared – this older Finnish man with kind eyes – and started describing the courses. "Tonight we're working with what nature provides. Our first course is foraged mushrooms with…"

"For the main," he continued later, "we have local reindeer—"

"Not Rudolph!" Van's gasp was theatrical.

Jules caught Y/N biting back a smile as the chef patiently offered, "We also have freshly caught Arctic char—"

Van opened her mouth again but AK's "Babe, chill" shut it for her.

The waiters moved around them with practiced grace, pouring wine that Y/N examined with actual knowledge – doing that little swirl thing, checking the color against the candlelight.

Jules found himself watching her, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, until she caught him staring.

"I see you, wine connoisseur," he said, enjoying the slight flush on her cheeks.

"You know your wines?"

"Got a few favorites. This Bordeaux that'll change your life, and this Spanish one in my cellar that you should try out." He let the invitation hang there.

Y/N almost choked on her sip. "Are we flirting?"

Jules just shrugged, taking a deliberate sip of his own wine, but he couldn't quite hide his smile.

"So tomorrow," Wilhelm was saying, "we got the snowmobiles booked for eleven—"

"After breakfast at our villa," Stef added.

"Then ice fishing in the evening," Nas continued. "Unless you guys are scared of the cold."

"Please," Van scoffed. "I'm from London, we invented cold."

"That's… not how weather works, babes," Y/N said quietly, just for Jules to hear, and his laugh came out before he could stop it.

The first course arrived – something beautiful with mushrooms and herbs that looked like art. Jules watched Y/N take her first bite, the way her eyes closed slightly in appreciation.

The wine was taking its effect – or maybe it was just her. Jules found himself getting bolder with each course, his hand occasionally brushing Y/N's shoulder when he leaned in to talk, letting his touches linger a bit longer than strictly necessary. The igloo's candlelight did something magical to her skin, and he kept catching himself staring.

"You're staring again," she murmured during the fourth course, some elaborate fish dish he wasn't even tasting anymore.

"Can't help it." The wine made him honest. "You're nice to look at."

Her laugh was soft, private. "The wine's making you brave."

Van's loud giggle cut through their moment – she was properly drunk now, hanging off AK's arm and talking about something he didn’t care for. Y/N caught Jules' eye and they shared a silent laugh.

Their driver met them outside the igloo after they finished their meal, warning them about an incoming snowstorm. "Nothing serious, but better to be inside tonight."

Once they got back to the villa, Van took this as her cue, practically dragging AK upstairs the moment they got inside. "Help me with this dress, baby!"

"Sauna?" Wilhelm suggested to the guys.

Stef and Nas were already heading that way, but Jules' attention was caught by Y/N slipping off her heels, heading toward the stairs.

"Not tonight," he said, not even trying to be subtle anymore.

"Get it, bro," Wilhelm teased.

Jules shot him a look but was already following Y/N up the stairs.

She sensed him behind her, turning with this little smile. "You stalking me?"

"Psssh, what? No." He laughed nervously, suddenly aware he might be coming on too strong. Wine drunk Jules was always a menace. He needed to chill.

But then she hit him with this smile that was pure trouble. "Wanna hang in the jacuzzi?"

Fuck yes.

"Bet."

He practically ran to his room, yanking off his sweater and digging through his suitcase for his trunks. A quick shower, his robe, those Ugg slippers he'd never admit to loving, and he was back downstairs starting up the jacuzzi.

Wine. Need wine.

He grabbed a fresh bottle and glasses, setting them up on the ledge just as Y/N appeared at the doorway. And – oh.

Her robe slipped off to reveal this black bikini that was definitely designed to kill men on sight. The way she eased into the hot water, sighing at the temperature, had his hormones going insane.

"This is perfect," she said, tilting her head back.

Jules slipped in across from her, trying to keep his eyes respectful even though that bikini was making it difficult. The wine made it easy to talk, to laugh, to gradually move closer until their legs were almost touching under the water.

"You're different," he found himself saying.

"Different how?"

"Just… real. Not trying to be anything else."

Her eyes met his in the dim light. "Maybe you're just used to people playing games."

"Maybe." He was definitely closer now, close enough to see water droplets on her eyelashes. "Or maybe you're just special."

The moment stretched between them, heavy with possibility. Then Y/N's hand found his under the water, and that was all the invitation he needed.

The first kiss was soft, testing. But then her fingers slid into his dreads, and he was gone. Her lips soft but demanding against his, and he pulled her closer as the kiss deepened.

They broke apart for air, but he couldn't stop, pressing kisses along her jaw, down her neck. Her quiet gasp when he found a sensitive spot had him tightening his grip on her waist.

"Jules," she breathed, and his name had never sounded better.

He captured her lips again, slower this time but no less intense. Everything else faded – the sound of the jacuzzi, even the wine forgotten on the ledge. There was just this, just her, just the way she fit perfectly against him.

When they finally pulled apart, staying close enough to share breath, Y/N laughed softly. "Definitely better than the sauna, huh?"

Jules grinned, stealing another quick kiss. "Definitely worth it."

"High praise."

"You have no idea."

Who would've thought the quiet girl who reads would be the one leaving everyone in her snow dust?

Jules watched Y/N zip ahead on her snowmobile, her all-white ski fit with that polka dot puffer making her look like some winter fashion editorial come to life. But it was the way she handled the machine – confident, fearless – that had him thinking about last night. About how those same hands that gripped the handlebars had been in his dreads, about how that mouth, which was now hidden behind the black helmet, had felt against his…

"Keep up!" she called back, and yeah, he was definitely in deep trouble.

They stopped at this clearing that looked like something out of a Christmas card – untouched snow stretching for miles, mountains in the background. While AK set up the drone for aerial shots, Van immediately started on what she claimed would be "the baddest snowman in Lapland."

Jules found himself drifting toward Y/N like she had her own gravitational pull. She was adjusting her helmet, cheeks flushed from the cold and the speed.

"Didn't expect you to be such a speed demon," he said, reaching out to fix a strand of hair that had escaped her helmet.

"There's a lot you don't know about me yet." That smile again, the one that made his stomach flip.

"Yet?" He stepped closer. "That mean I get to find out more?"

"Maybe." She looked up at him through those lashes. "If you play your cards right."

The others were occupied – Van directing AK on proper snowman architecture, Nas trying to get Wilhelm to race him again, Stef actually getting decent drone footage – when Jules decided to shoot his shot.

"Skip ice fishing with me?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "And do what instead?"

"Thought we could chill at the villa instead? Unless you're really excited about sitting on ice for hours…"

"Trying to get me alone?"

His laugh was low. "Is it working?"

Later, the group visited the small village of Levi, and Van pulled Y/N into some boutique, leaving Jules to deal with his boys' inevitable commentary. They found a coffee shop, and Jules knew from AK's face this conversation was coming.

"So," AK said, that smug look taking over his features. "Nous allons en parler?"

"Parler de quoi?" (Talk about what?)

"À propos de la façon dont je suis le meilleur ailier de tous les temps? À propos de la façon dont mes compétences en matière de jumelage sont d’élite?" (About how I'm the best wingman ever? About how my matchmaking skills are elite?)

Stef rolled his eyes. "L’élite? Après cette catastrophe de Mykonos?" (Elite? After that Mykonos disaster?)

"Ou cette fille à Ibiza," Wilhelm added.

"Ou l’entrepreneur en thé détox," Nas chimed in.

"Vos compétences de jumelage sont généralement nulles," Jules corrected, though he couldn't help smiling. "C’est clairement une consade." (Your matchmaking skills are usually trash. This is clearly a fluke)

"Et qu'en est-il quand tu l'as embrassée dans le jacuzzi?" (And what about when you kissed her in the jacuzzi?)

Jules nearly choked in his coffee. "Comment as-tu fait—" (You guys saw that?)

"S’il-vous-plaît," Wilhelm cut in. "Toute la cabine a des fenêtres, génie." (The whole cabin has windows, genius)

"Et Van t’a vu en route pour piller le réfrigérateur," AK added. (And Van saw you on her way to raid the fridge)

"Et Nas espionnait depuis le sauna," Stef said. (And Nas spying from the sauna)

"Surveillance!" Nas corrected. "Je menait à la surveillance." (I was surveilling)

"Vous êtes trop les gars," Jules muttered, but he was fighting a smile.(You guys are too much)

"Admettez-le," AK pressed. "J’ai bien fait cette fois-ci." (Admit it, I did well this time)

"Je n’admets rien." (Im not admitting anything)

"Ton visage admet tout," Wilhelm said. "Tu brilles comme un adolescent avec son premier béguin." (Your face admits everything. You shining like a teenager with their first crush)

Before Jules could defend himself, the girls returned loaded with bags, and damn if Y/N didn't look good with snowflakes in her hair.

_______________________________________________

Their guide showed up for the ice fishing expedition, and Van's parting shot to Y/N was pure Van: "Have fun getting your back blown out!"

"She's something else," Jules muttered as the others left.

"That's one way to put it." Y/N was already heading toward the kitchen. "So, what's the plan?"

The plan turned into Jules showing off his cooking skills – nothing fancy, just some pasta aglio e olio and garlic bread, but the way Y/N watched him cook made him feel like a master chef.

"Where'd you learn to cook?" she asked, perched on the counter while he worked.

"My mum. Said no son of hers was going to survive on takeaway." He handed her a taste of the sauce. "Good?"

Her eyes closed slightly as she tasted it. "Mm, perfect."

They ended up in the den, fire crackling, talking about everything and nothing. About that club Van was insisting they hit for New Year's ("It's Lapland, how lit can it be?"), about Y/N's job at Vogue ("The Devil Wears Prada lied, it's actually worse"), about Jules' family in France and Benin.

"You're really not that bad," Y/N said suddenly.

"Where’s this coming from?"

"From what I expected. From what Van said."

"Van talks about me?"

Y/N's laugh was soft. "She tried to warn me you were shy. Said you'd probably just brood in corners looking pretty."

"And?" He shifted closer.

"And…" Her eyes dropped to his lips. "You're definitely pretty."

This kiss was different from last night – slower, more deliberate. Like they had all the time in the world to explore this thing between them. His hand found that spot on her neck that made her sigh, and her fingers was back in his dreads.

Yeah, maybe AK's matchmaking skills weren't completely trash after all.

Jules couldn't stop kissing Y/N if he tried, each kiss deeper than the last, more urgent. His hand found its way into her hair, curls falling loose from her updo.

Everything had shifted, like the whole universe was conspiring to make this moment happen. Y/N pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips, "Do you want to come up?"

"Yeah." He tried to play it cool, but his mind was going absolutely crazy. HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT. Here he was, Jules Koundé, known for being calm and composed in front of 90,000 people at Camp Nou, completely losing it over six words from this girl.

Following Y/N upstairs felt like torture in the best way. She moved with this effortless grace that had him mesmerized, throwing these looks over her shoulder that was sin – half shy, half something else that made his stomach flip.

When her door finally clicked shut behind them, the air felt electric with possibility. Jules stood still, his dark eyes tracing the curve of Y/N's silhouette as she leaned back against the door. She reached up to pull the last pin from her updo, letting her curls tumble free. Jules swore he forgot how to breathe.

"You look nervous," Y/N said softly, her voice light, teasing, as she stepped closer, her bare feet barely making a sound against the floor.

"Do I?" Jules asked, his voice rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat, but the way her hands brushed against his chest when she closed the space between them made it impossible to care.

"A little," she said, tipping her head back to meet his gaze. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his sweater, pulling him closer. "I like it, though. Makes me feel powerful."

Jules huffed out a laugh, his hands finding her waist and pulling her flush against him. "You're enjoying this way too much."

"Maybe." She tilted her head, her lips brushing against his.

That was all it took for him to close the distance, his mouth slanting over hers in a kiss that was anything but gentle. Y/N sighed into it, her arms winding around his neck as his hands explored the curve of her back, her hips, the warmth of her skin beneath the material of her clothing.

He backed her toward the bed, his fingers trailing down to the hem of her thermal top, pushing it up to reveal the soft skin of her stomach. When the back of her knees hit the mattress, Y/N pulled him down with her, their laughter mingling with their heavy breathing.

"You're in such a hurry," she teased when they broke apart for air.

"Can you blame me?" Jules smirked, his hands sliding over her hips, fingers hooking into the band of her leggings.

She opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her with another kiss, deep and deliberate, his tongue brushing against hers. His hands worked her leggings down, the fabric clinging stubbornly until he finally peeled them away, leaving her in just a simple pair of black underwear and the thermal top pushed up to her ribs.

"You’re stunning," Jules murmured, his voice low, almost reverent, as his gaze roamed over her.

Y/N smiled, reaching for him. "Your turn."

Jules obliged, pulling off his sweater in one swift motion, the muscles in his chest and arms catching the light in a way that made her breath catch. He leaned back down, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, earning a soft gasp as her hands roamed his back.

The thermal bunched higher as his kisses trailed down her neck and across her collarbone, his fingers skimming along the edge of her panties. Y/N arched into him, her nails grazing his skin lightly, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest.

When she reached for the button of his pants, Jules caught her wrist, his eyes dark and hooded. "Slow down," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. "We’ve got all night."

Y/N grinned up at him, her cheeks flushed, her breathing unsteady. "Then you’d better make it worth it."

Jules took his time, his hands tracing over Y/N's curves with a slowness that had her squirming beneath him. His fingers slid her panties down her legs, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of her as more of her was revealed.

Her arousal glistened between her thighs and Jules felt his stomach tighten at the sight.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. He pulled back just enough to sit up, his dreads falling forward, framing his face as he looked at her.

His gaze took in the soft rise and fall of her chest, her thermal pushed up to just beneath her breasts. "This has to go," he said, his voice teasing as his fingers tugged at the hem of the fabric. She lifted her arms, letting him pull it over her head, and then he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. The garment fell away, baring her to him entirely.

Jules let out a slow breath. Her breasts were full, her nipples pebbled, and he couldn't resist leaning down to press a kiss to the swell of one, his lips brushing her skin softly before moving lower.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his lips dragging a path across her stomach. His eyes dipped back down, lingering between her thighs. "And this—" He ran a finger along the slickness there, grinning when she shivered. "So pretty. I need to have a taste."

Y/N flushed, her breath hitching as she propped herself up on her elbows to meet his gaze. "I’ve never met a guy who actually liked giving head," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, though there was a teasing lilt in it.

Jules raised an eyebrow, his grin widening into something almost wicked. "You've been messing around with the wrong niggas, cherie," he said, shaking his head as if it were an absolute tragedy. He settled himself between her thighs, his hands gently coaxing them wider. "Don't worry. We're gonna change that."

His words sent a shiver through her, her anticipation building as his lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. "Jules," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

"Relax," he said, glancing up at her, his eyes filled with heat and something softer beneath it. "I've got you."

Not to brag because, honestly, it wasn't his style, but this was his thing. Eating pussy was state-of-the-art to him, an art form he'd mastered, a skill that had left more than a few women crashing out over it. He took pride in it, sure, but it wasn't just about being good at it. He enjoyed it. The taste, the sounds, the way a woman’s body responded when he knew exactly what to do — it was intoxicating.

And Y/N? She was a masterpiece. The way her body trembled, her soft gasps, and the way she shifted her hips as if seeking him out — she was an active participant, not someone who held back. It made every second feel electric, like a performance where they were both in perfect sync.

Another box checked. She was fucking perfect.

That thought hovered in his mind for a beat too long, a flash of something deeper creeping in, and he shoved it away. This wasn’t about feelings. Not right now. Right now, he had a job to do. So he got to work.

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss just above her center, letting his breath ghost over her. His tongue followed, a slow swipe that had her hips jerking upward. "Relax, cherie," he murmured, his voice low, smooth, and tinged with amusement.

She whimpered softly, her thighs quivering against his hands as he pushed them farther apart. His tongue explored her folds with purpose, slow and teasing at first, mapping every inch of her like he had all the time in the world, but when her moans grew louder, more urgent, he picked up the pace, alternating between long, languid strokes and focused flicks of his tongue against her clit.

"Jules," she gasped, her hands diving into his dreads, holding on for dear life as he worked her over.

He hummed against her, the vibration sending a jolt through her body. Her hips bucked, and he grinned, tightening his grip on her thighs to hold her still. "You're so fucking responsive," he said, his voice muffled as he dove back in.

She moaned again, her body writhing against him, and Jules felt a rush of pride — and hunger. He wasn’t stopping until she was completely undone, every thought wiped clean except for him and what he was doing to her.

Her breathing hitched, turning into desperate little gasps, her thighs trembling around his head. "That’s it," he murmured, his lips brushing against her. "Let go for me."

And when she did — her back arching, a cry spilling from her lips, her body shaking with the force of it — Jules couldn’t help but smile. He’d always enjoyed this part, watching the aftermath, the way a woman's body melted into the mattress, chest heaving and cheeks flushed.

"See?" he said, his voice warm and teasing as he kissed his way back up her body. "Told you we were gonna change that." Jules brushed a kiss against Y/N’s lips, still tasting her arousal on his tongue, before pulling back. His voice was soft but charged as he asked, "Got a condom?"

Y/N nodded, her breath still uneven. "In my tote bag. Corner of the room."

He gave her another quick kiss, playful and lingering, before sliding off the bed. She watched him stride over to the tote, his movements unhurried, almost teasing, as if he knew exactly what kind of show he was putting on.

When he crouched down and opened the bag, his smirk widened. "What do we have here?" he mused, holding up a sleek vibrator with a raised brow.

"Oh, my God," Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. "Put that back, Jules."

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and dropped the vibrator back into the bag. "No judgment. Just saying we might have to use this some other time."

She peeked out from between her fingers. "You’re ridiculous."

"Mm, you like it," he shot back, pulling out the pack of Trojans. He glanced over his shoulder, his smirk turning downright sinful. "Found what I was looking for."

He walked back toward her, the condom packet in one hand and her gaze traveled down, taking in the way he casually shucked off his pants, then his boxer briefs, until he stood completely bare in front of her, his arousal standing proud and unashamed.

Y/N's eyes widened slightly and she had that usual smile on her face.

He tore open the packet with his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers as he sheathed himself. The deliberate way he rolled the condom on, his movements smooth and precise, sent a fresh wave of heat through her.

Jules caught the way her thighs shifted on the bed, the way her teeth caught her bottom lip, and his grin softened into something deeper, more intimate. "You good, cherie?" he asked, his voice warm and genuine as he climbed back onto the bed.

Y/N nodded, her fingers reaching out to touch him, to pull him closer. "I’m good," she murmured.

Y/N was bringing out something else entirely in him. Something raw. Something freaky. And honestly? It was only right. If she was going to let her inner freak shine, Jules had no problem meeting her there. He had a feeling, though—there was something about the way she smiled, all soft and sweet, but with that glint in her eyes that promised trouble.

He stayed between her legs, his gaze dragging over her like she was a masterpiece he couldn’t stop studying, like he wasn’t in any rush. Jules had patience, especially when the reward was something like this.

"You’re bad, you know that?" he said, his voice low and teasing as his hands slid up her thighs.

Y/N smirked, her eyes half-lidded. "And you’re just figuring this out?"

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, I’ve been clocking it. Just didn’t realize how bad."

His hands gripped her thighs a little firmer, pulling her closer so he could line himself up. The slick heat of her against him was enough to make his head tip back for a second, eyes closing as he gathered himself. When he looked at her again, she was watching him with that little smile, her legs shifting to hook around his waist.

Yeah, she’s definitely a freak.

He liked that. A lot.

"Say the word, cherie," Jules murmured, his voice softer now, the teasing edge melting into something deeper.

Y/N didn’t hesitate, her hands sliding up his arms, her nails grazing his skin. "Do it."

That was all he needed. Slowly, he pushed into her, taking his time, letting her feel every inch. The way her body tensed, then melted beneath him, had his heart pounding in his chest.

"Shit, Y/N," he muttered, pausing once he was fully inside her, giving her a moment to adjust. "You’re... God, you’re perfect."

She exhaled shakily, her hands gripping his shoulders as she shifted beneath him. "You can move," she said, her voice breathy but certain.

Jules smiled, something almost wicked flashing in his eyes as he pulled back, then thrust forward again, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm.

It wasn’t long before her moans filled the room, soft and then louder, her hands roaming over his back, her nails digging into his skin in a way that had him groaning. "Damn," he said, his tone full of admiration. "You like that, huh?"

She nodded, biting her lip to stifle another moan, but Jules wasn’t having that. "Don’t hold back," he said, his voice firm but still warm. "I want to hear you."

He picked up the pace, his hips snapping against hers in a way that had the bed creaking under them. Y/N met him thrust for thrust, her body arching, her legs pulling him closer, deeper.

"Jules," she gasped, her voice trembling but filled with so much need it sent a shiver down his spine.

"Yeah, cherie?" he said, leaning down to kiss her, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke.

"You’re gonna ruin me," she whispered, her voice full of awe and teasing all at once.

Jules chuckled, his forehead pressing against hers as his thrusts grew deeper, more intense. "Good," he said, his voice dropping to a growl. "Let me show you how it’s supposed to be."

And oh, he did.

The intimacy of missionary was something he didn’t take lightly—he liked being able to look her in the eyes, to see the way her lips parted and her head tilted back as he rocked into her.

Her breath hitched with each thrust, her nails raking lightly down his back, leaving faint trails that hurt in the best way. Jules dropped his head, kissing along her jaw, her neck, then catching her lips in a kiss so heated it felt like it could burn the room down.

But as much as he loved this—her chest pressed against his, her thighs gripping his sides—his thoughts kept drifting. He couldn’t ignore the temptation of something he’d been eyeing for far too long.

Since they’d left Paris, Jules had been trying not to be a complete dog about it, but damn. Y/N’s ass was something else. Every time she walked ahead of him, he found his gaze following the sway of her hips, the way those leggings hugged her perfectly.

And now? Thank God.

"Turn over for me," Jules murmured.

Y/N blinked up at him, dazed but smiling, and she nodded, biting her lip as she shifted beneath him. Jules helped her, his hands guiding her onto her stomach, then pulling her hips up until she was on all fours.

And there it was.

His breath caught for a moment, his hands gripping her waist as he took in the view. "Damn, cherie," he whispered, his voice thick with appreciation. "This fucking ass."

She laughed, glancing back over her shoulder, her cheeks flushed. "You like it?"

"Yeah," Jules said, smirking as his hands slid over her hips, his thumbs pressing into the dimples of her lower back. "And now I get to see it properly."

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to the small of her back, then one to each cheek, his goatee grazing her skin, making her shiver. He took his time, his hands roaming, gripping, appreciating every inch of her.

When he finally lined himself up and thrust back into her, the angle hit different—for both of them. Y/N gasped, her fingers gripping the sheets, her back arching as he set a steady rhythm, his hands on her hips keeping her steady.

"Fuck," Jules muttered, his voice rough, his movements deliberate but powerful. He watched the way her body moved with him, the way her ass bounced with each thrust. It was hypnotizing.

"You good?" Y/N asked, her voice breathless, teasing.

Jules chuckled, leaning forward just enough to press a kiss to her shoulder, his chest brushing against her back. "Better than good," he said, his voice low in her ear. "You feel like heaven, cherie."

Her laugh turned into a moan as he adjusted his angle, hitting deeper, harder. Jules was relentless but attentive, listening to every sound she made, every shift in her body, making sure she felt as much pleasure as he did.

And as much as Jules was enjoying the view—and he really was—it was the sounds she made, the way she responded to him, that had him losing his mind. Every moan, every gasp, every whispered "Jules" was fuel, driving him to keep going, to give her more.

"Perfect," he groaned, his voice almost reverent as he tightened his grip on her hips, thrusting harder. "You’re fucking perfect."

"Ooh fuck, Jules....yes."

He could feel himself getting closer and closer to that precipice with each thrust. She felt so good, better than he could imagine, and when her moans began to turn into screams...yeah...he prayed that no one heard them.

They finally came, her orgasming first and then him immediately after. Both of them still catching their breath, hearts beating a little faster than normal. Jules looked down at Y/N as his sweaty body slumped over hers.

"You're something else, Y/N," Jules said, his voice low but filled with admiration as he moved away to dispose of the condom.

She chuckled softly, rolling onto her side and facing him. "I could say the same about you."

The moment felt calm, peaceful almost, and for once, there was no rush. Jules stroked her hair gently as he lay next to her, the space between them filled with a comfortable silence.

Y/N reached up, brushing her lips softly against his, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "So... what happens now?" she asked, her eyes playful but still searching for some sort of direction.

"I guess we just chill then maybe another round," he replied, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jules woke up to sunlight streaming through Y/N's bedroom windows, the snow outside making everything look bright white and clean. Inside though? Inside was all warmth – her room somehow perfectly heated (unlike his ice box down the hall), and Y/N's bare skin pressed against his under her ridiculously soft sheets.

He couldn't help smirking a little, remembering last night. Everything had gone exactly as he'd hoped when he followed her upstairs, that confidence he usually saved for the pitch coming in clutch.

Now here he was, watching her sleep and feeling pretty good about himself. She looked different like this – all soft edges and messy curls, evidence of their night together in her slightly smudged makeup and the marks he'd left on her neck.

"Stop staring," she mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Not staring." He was definitely staring. "Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how you stole all the covers in the middle of the night."

She cracked one eye open. "Lies and slander. I'm a perfect sleeping companion."

"You literally kicked me."

"You were hogging the bed!"

"It's a king size bed!"

Her laugh was still morning-rough, and something about it made his stomach do that flip thing again. She stretched, the movement doing interesting things to the sheet's positioning, and – he was staring again.

"Like what you see?"

"You fishing for compliments this early?"

"Maybe." She propped herself up on one elbow, looking at him with those eyes that got him into this situation in the first place. "Is it working?"

Instead of answering, he pulled her down for a kiss. She tasted so good and when she made that little sound in the back of her throat...

A loud bang on the door made them jump apart.

"Y/N!" Van's voice carried through the wood. "Stop riding Jules and come get breakfast! We got husky sledding in an hour!"

Y/N groaned, burying her face in Jules' chest. "I'm going to murder her."

"I'll help hide the body."

"My hero."

They lay there for another moment, his hand playing with her hair, neither wanting to break the bubble they'd created. Outside, he could hear the others moving around – Van's loud laugh, AK telling someone to hurry up, the clatter of plates downstairs.

"We should probably..."

"Yeah."

But neither moved.

"Or we could just stay here," Y/N suggested, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest that were very distracting.

"Tempting." He caught her hand before it could wander lower. "But if we don't show up, Van will absolutely break down that door."

"Ugh, fine." She sat up, the sheet falling away, and – oh.

"You're making it really hard to be responsible right now."

Her smile was pure trouble. "I can see just how hard it is."

"You're terrible."

"You like it."

And yeah, maybe he did. Maybe he liked a lot of things about this girl who read actual books and drove snowmobiles like a pro and kissed like she meant it. Maybe he was in trouble in the best possible way.

But first: breakfast. And then huskies. And then... well, they had time to figure out the rest.

Jules pulled on his clothes from last night, unable to keep the satisfied smile off his face as Y/N disappeared into her en suite. The sound of her shower starting up had him thinking dangerous thoughts, but nah – they needed to actually make it to breakfast.

His own room felt weirdly cold and unfamiliar after the warmth of Y/N's bed. Quick shower, fresh clothes, trying and failing not to think about last night while he got ready. By the time he made it downstairs, Y/N was already at the breakfast table looking way too good in her red puffer, black ski pants hugging curves he now knew intimately. Those Moon Boots shouldn't have been cute but somehow were.

Their villa's chef had outdone himself – full spread of everything from eggs benedict to fresh pastries, fruit platters that looked like art. Y/N was already nursing a coffee, and the way she smiled at him over the rim of her cup had him remembering exactly how she'd smiled last night when—

"Earth to Jules," Stef called out, snapping him back to reality. "You want the last croissant or can I have it?"

Y/N slid the pastry toward Jules with a wink that definitely meant trouble. "Better fuel up. Long day ahead."

Van’s eyebrows raised in pique interest as she drank her mimosa.

The bus ride to the husky farm should've been chill, but Van immediately dragged Y/N to sit with her, that look in her eye that meant interrogation was coming. Jules caught Y/N's slightly panicked look and had to laugh – she was about to get the full Van experience.

"So," he heard Van start as he settled in his own seat. "Don't leave out any details..."

The husky farm was everything the brochures promised – dozens of excited dogs practically bouncing in their harnesses, their breath visible in the cold morning air. But Jules was only half listening to Erik, their guide, explain the basics of sledding. He kept getting distracted by Y/N's animated conversation with Van a few feet away.

"—and then he did WHAT?" Van's voice carried, way too loud.

Y/N's eyes met his across the snow, this little smile playing at her lips that had him remembering exactly what he'd done.

"Focus, lover boy," Wilhelm muttered, elbowing him. "Unless you want to crash into a tree."

Erik paired them up – two per sled – and obviously Jules ended up with Y/N. Obviously Van made some comment about "riding" that had AK trying not to laugh while pretending to scold her.

"You good?" Jules asked as Y/N settled into the front of their sled, his hands on her hips maybe lingering longer than necessary as he helped her in.

"Better than good." She looked back at him with that smile that was becoming dangerous for his mental health. "Though a bit sore."

Before he could respond to that loaded comment, the dogs took off, their excited barking filling the crisp air as they raced through the snow.

The dogs pulled them through this winter wonderland that didn't seem real – all pristine snow and frosted trees, sunlight making everything sparkle. But Jules was more focused on how Y/N kept leaning back against him, the way she fit perfectly between his arms as he held the reins.

"This is incredible!" she called back, turning her head just enough that he could see her profile, cheeks flushed from the cold and excitement.

"The dogs or my steering skills?"

"Both." She settled more firmly against him. "Though I think I could drive better."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhmm. Wanna switch?"

They pulled to a stop at a clearing where Erik had planned a break. Y/N hopped out with that same grace she did everything, immediately going to thank their dogs by name because of course she'd memorized them already.

"Sven likes you," Erik noted as one of the huskies practically melted under Y/N's attention.

"The feeling's mutual," she cooed, scratching behind the dog's ears while Jules watched, something warm spreading in his chest that had nothing to do with his heavy coat.

"You're staring again," Van said, appearing beside him with two cups of hot chocolate from Erik's thermos.

"Mind your business."

"Impossible. This is literally the most entertainment I've had since that Mykonos disaster."

"Which you promised to never bring up again."

Van's laugh was loud enough to make the dogs look over. "Sweetie, that story is getting told at your wedding."

"Whose wedding?" Y/N asked, joining them with snow in her hair.

"No one's," Jules said quickly, but Van was already cackling.

"Just planning ahead," she said with a wink before dramatically calling out, "BABE! Come take pictures of me with the dogs for the gram!"

AK dutifully pulled out his camera while Y/N gave Jules a questioning look.

"Do I want to know?"

"Definitely not." He handed her the other hot chocolate. "Ready to show me these superior driving skills you were bragging about?"

And watching her handle the sled with the same confidence she'd shown on the snowmobile (the same confidence she'd shown last night), Jules thought about how sometimes the best things in life came from letting go of control.

The next few days were a mess of heated kisses, late-night jacuzzi sessions that definitely weren't just about enjoying the water, and fucking each other’s brains out. Y/N kept "accidentally" ending up in Jules' room instead of her own, and he definitely wasn't complaining. Even Van's knowing looks at breakfast couldn't dim the way Y/N's sleepy morning smile hit different when she was wearing his clothes.

Santa's Village had Van acting like a whole child, dragging them from attraction to attraction, but Jules couldn't even be annoyed because Y/N kept catching his eye and biting back laughs.

The go-karting was pure chaos – Y/N proving yet again she was secretly an adrenaline junkie, drifting through the snow like she'd been doing it her whole life. "Your girl's crazy," Stef had said, watching her lap Nas for the third time.

Your girl. Jules liked the sound of that more than he probably should.

Sledding turned into an all-out war, teams forming naturally until it was couples versus singles. "That's not fair," Nas had complained. "You two got that honeymoon phase energy!" But watching Y/N trash talk Wilhelm in her posh accent while absolutely destroying everyone on the slopes? Top tier entertainment.

Then New Year's Eve hit, and Van finally got her wish about that club. It was actually decent – something about drinking champagne in an ice bar while the Northern Lights danced overhead felt surreal. But Jules was more focused on how Y/N felt pressed against him as they danced, how she tasted like champagne and promises when they kissed at midnight.

They'd barely left his room the next day, making up for lost time until Van literally broke in with a spare key because "I NEED MY BEST FRIEND!"

Now here they were, back in Paris, the magic of Lapland already feeling like a dream. They landed in Paris just after sunset, the January air was soothing after Lapland's intense cold. The private terminal was quiet except for Van's dramatic goodbyes – she was basically hanging off Y/N like they hadn't just spent a whole week together.

"I'm gonna miss you so much!" Van wailed while AK tried not to laugh.

"Girl, I'll literally see you next weekend," Y/N said, but hugged her back just as tight.

The guys were more lowkey with their goodbyes – Nas and Stef dapping Y/N up with a "you're cool people" and "don't be a stranger," while Wilhelm gave her a quick hug and whispered something that made her laugh and Jules narrow his eyes suspiciously.

"You sure you don't want to stay at AK’s?" Van tried again, finally releasing Y/N. "We can get brunch tomorrow before heading back to London..."

"I've got that editorial meeting first thing," Y/N sighed, adjusting her carry-on. "Need to prep tonight."

That's when Jules stepped in, unable to let the week end just like that. "Stay at mine."

"I really should get back..."

"I’ll even go with you on the train to London tomorrow morning."

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Why should I even stay?"

The look he gave her said everything he couldn't in public. Her quiet "fine" was trying to sound put out but didn't quite hit the mark.

In his car, one of his hands was on the wheel while the other found her thigh. The city lights caught the snow that had started falling – nothing like Lapland's heavy drifts, just light dustings that made everything look softer.

"Your playlist is actually decent," Y/N said, scrolling through his Spotify. "Though I'm judging the amount of Drake."

"Leave Drake alone."

"Make me."

His laugh was low. "Later."

They fell into comfortable silence as Steve Lacy came on, and Jules tried to sort through the thoughts that had been building all week. This wasn't supposed to happen – he barely had time to breathe between matches and training, let alone time for a relationship. But here he was, already thinking about when he could see her next.

"So," he finally said, aiming for casual. "This thing..."

"This thing?" Her smile was teasing.

"You know what I mean."

"Do I?"

"You're not going to make this easy, huh?"

Her laugh was soft. "When have I ever made anything easy for you?"

True. From that first moment in the private terminal to right now, she'd challenged him at every turn. Maybe that's why this felt different.

"I want to see where this goes," he said finally. "Like, properly."

"Properly?" She was definitely enjoying watching him squirm. "What exactly does that mean?"

"It means I want to figure out our schedules. See when you can come to Barcelona. When I can come to London." He glanced at her. "If you want."

The smile she gave him made his chest tight. "I want."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She squeezed his hand. "Let's see what happens."

Later, watching her sleep in his bed like she belonged there, Jules thought about how AK finally redeemed himself with suggesting his girl and her bestie join them on their boys trip.

Speaking of AK, Jules' phone buzzed with a text:

"So... best wingman ever or BEST wingman ever?"

For once, Jules didn't argue. He typed out a reply:

"You redeemed yourself…but barely."

Then he placed his phone back onto his bedside table and smiled at a peacefully sleeping Y/N.

Yeah, maybe AK did get it right this time.

[lizthewriter]

bad idea right? / diego hargeeves

PAIRING  s1!diego hargreeves x fem!reader

SUMMARY  you and diego broke up a while ago, but when he texts you at perhaps the most vulnerable time of your life, you can't help but answer.

TAGS  s1!diego hargreeves x fem!reader, clubbing, partying, exes, reunion, making out, everyone simping for five meanwhile my obsession with diego 🧍‍♀️, i just rewatched s2 and s3 of tua

QUOTE  "i'm right here with all my friends, / but you're sending me your new address, / and i know we're done, i know we're through, / but god, when i look at you," - bad idea right? by olivia rodrigo

WORD COUNT 1.1K

WRITTEN  12.10.2023

tonight was your night. strobing lights flashing all around you, sticky spots on your arms where people accidentally spilled their liquor, bodies flush against your own as everyone flowed with the music. you could forget all about any and every difficulty in your life. one night of drinking and partying, which you would most likely regret in the morning. but for now, you didn't care. you were having fun.

"hey, what's that?" your friend shouted over the booming music. you couldn't hear her.

"what?" you shouted back in confusion. she reached over to you, pulling out a blinkering device from the small, glittery purse barely hanging off of your arm. It was your phone - someone was calling. She looked at the caller ID and her expression darkened. "Who is it?"

You walked around her, only to see him. That stupid fucking smile of his, so goddamn beautiful. You felt your heart sink into your stomach and it settled with a tragic gurgle at the bottom of your gut. Your friend immediately hung up on him and gave you your phone back. "Just leave it alone, okay? Remember why you came here in the first place . . ."

Her expression was encouraging - she wanted you to say it. With a relictant role of your eyes, you responded, "to get drunk and forget about him," with as much disdain as you could.

"Exactly," she responded with a simpering smile, clapping her hands together. She grabbed you by the shoulders, turned you around, and started to push you towards the mass of bodies. "So go out there, dance your ass off, and make every man in this room jealous that he can't have you. Go!"

"All right, all right!" You exclaimed in response, shrugging her hands off your shoulder and entering the crowd through a very narrow passageway between two couples dancing it out. As the scent of alcohol, sweat, and sex assaulted your senses, you started to wonder whether this was a good idea at all. You slowly looked towards your purse. No. You promised yourself you wouldn't crawl back to him. But it was just too easy to pull out your phone and stare at new messages you recieved.

DIEGO (10:34PM) look, i know things ended badly

DIEGO (10:34PM) but i can be better

DIEGO (10:35PM) Location shared. come on please, just talk to me

It wouldn't be a big deal if you went over, right? I mean, you were just friends. That's what you decided on when you ended your relationship, even if you had ignored him since said desicion. It was just one night. One singular night, and you were just stopping by. It totally wasn't a bad idea at all. Right?

You didn't bother saying goodbye to your friend. She was probably already luring they guy she was dancing with to the bathroom - you wouldn't see her for a while. And she wouldn't see you either.

His address wasn't far off from where you were - you could walk there, even. You ignored the catcalls and whistles thrown your way, rushing through the streets to the one person who could ever get you to do something like this. He was your biggest strength and your worst weakness, all at once.

You climbed the stairs to an apartament complex to the second floor, flying past the different room numbers until you found his. With heavy breath, you raised your hand to the wood but hesitated. How was this night going to end? Well . . . how do you want this night to end? You weren't going to pretend as though you didn't miss him whole-heartedly. But it was hard to pretend as though he wasn't the one who ended things.

You were delusional. You thought, maybe one more night together would be good for us.

You knocked, three times. It wasn't long before he swung open the door and leaned against it, again, with fhat smug smirk. Diego. His eyes followed the length do your body - you almost forgot you had dressed up to go out with your friend.

"All for me?" He asked, returning his gaze to your eyes. It was alluring - not begging, but demanding that you come inside. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him. He was still in his vigilante gear and he knew how that made you feel.

A plesant blush spread over your cheeks. "I was out clubbing," you responded shyly, shifting your weight between your feet. He said nothing, only moving out fo your way and pulling the door wider. Asking to please, come in. You hurried inside - after all, you were shivering from the freezing cold in a much-too-short mini-dress and skinny heels. "I'll admit, I wasn't expecting you to reach out."

"No?" He had his back turned to you, by the small counter that must be the kitchen. He faced you again, with two glass tumblers and offered you a drink. You accepted - after all, he was being hospitable and you didn't want to be rude. Finding a place to get comfortable, you leaned against what you could call a kitchen table, but being truthful, you were practically seated upon it. "I wasn't expecting you to come."

You shrugged, taking a long dreg from your tumbler, staring at the bottom of it when it left your lips. The tension in the room was thicker than blood. You looked up when the sound of Diego's drink meeting the table met your ears. He approached you, almost cautiously, like you were a deer in headlights. Taking the drink from your hand, he placed it on the table far from you and rested his hands on the surface of the table behind you. You were trapped. But it didn't much feel that way. In fact, you felt almost free, like ever since the break-up a piece of you had been locked up and now that you were with Diego . . . you were free to be who you are and do whatever you wanted.

"Which means we both know why we're here, right now," he said softly. An hour ago, you had told your friend that you and Diego were purely platonic. I only see him as a friend. You scoffed at yourself now. If that wasn't the biggest lie you've ever told yourself.

One of his hands reached out, trailing shapes onto the skin of your hand. This was a horrible idea.

"If you don't want to do this, I suggest you leave now."

It was a terrible idea.

But God, you wanted him.

"Why do you think I'm here you big dummy?" You smashed your lips against his, wrapping your legs around his torso while your hands trailed their way up his neck.

He grinned against your lips, his hand trailing down to clutch your ass. "Now that's what I'm talking about."

[olderthannetfic]

Here's another pet peeve with influencer books. People are fucking babies about giving honest ratings. It's like simping is a requirement to read influencer books. Cases where some no-face author would get 1-2 stars or an otherwise low rating and a review to match, the influencers get so much leniency. Even when it's clear the book would have deserved a low rating and an honest review, most influencer books get these simpering reviews that lowkey praise the influencer. The book is shit, but I vibe with the influencer 4-5 stars.

Not even just goodreads, amazon is honestly worse, and some other shop sites. I mean I can guess that part of it comes from people there being people who care to begin with. But even still the difference between random authors and influencer authors is painful.

Yes I'm stating the obvious. I'm honestly just real salty that influencers laud themselves as masters of writing, when in reality most of the reviews they seem to get come from people who care more about the influencer-author than any words they put on paper. You're not a good writer, you're just popular on the internet.

--

TBH, even people who got known for their writing in the first place have this happen. Reviews are about popularity. News at 11.

[your-sleeparalysisdem0n]

MOOTIES

MAYDAY MAYDAY, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY, I REPEAT. THIS IS AN EMERGENCY. WE ARE UNDER ATTACK, WE ARE UNDER ATTACK. ALL FORCES REQUIRED. MUTUALS...ASSEMBLEEE!!!!! *~^~* *~^~* *~^~* *~^~* *~^~*

-Calling forth the Phainon lover, the Cringe Embracer... Vee!! @vxnuslogy

-Calling forth the Mydei brain-rotter, the Alpha of the hunters...Atlys!! @bladism

-Calling forth the Anaxa lover, the floor-12'ed Genshin-er... Choki!! @chokifandom

-Calling forth the cringe-nickname giver, the dying from engineering-er...Wys!! @wystiix

-Calling forth Hyuna's wife, the give-June-piss-on-her-first-day-er...Rei! @papiliotao

-Calling forth the stop-AI-from-bullying-June-er, the Haribo sacrifice member...Vessa!! @somniachant

-Calling forth the Bullied-by-Ren-er, the Ocean-lover...Illu!! @milksnake-tea

-Calling forth the brainrot talented writer, the Phainon fan-er...Mira!! @m1ckeyb3rry

-Calling forth the mysterious Hunter, the cool-calm admin...Sam!! @singularity-sam

-Calling forth my kidnapper, the also ass-class fan...Ari!! @aritsukemo

-Calling forth the talented otome game maker, the amazing film maker... Brynn!! @beloved-brynn

-Calling forth the mod with the most aura, THE stellaron hunter... Gwen!! @tragedy-of-commons

-Calling forth the Illu bully-er, the recent birthday girl chaos bringer... Ren!! @lowkeyren

-Calling forth the fluffiest fluff writer, the jjk gojo fan...Evie!! @inoluvrr

-Calling forth the Yuta okotsu lover, the author of the BEST jjk long fic on ao3...Quinny!! @quinnyundertow

-Calling forth the writer I miss, the writer who I wonder where has gone :(... ChososWifey!! @chososwifey24-7

-Calling forth the dislikes-getting-up-early-in-the-morning-too-er, my fellow mewing brain-rotter... Nyx!! @gl4di0lus

-Calling forth the every-hsr-men-simper, the mightiest admin of them all...Crow!! @rainswept

-Calling forth the reappeared stellaron hunter, the fellow science lover...Cee!! @kazucee

-Calling forth the brainrotter-in-disguise, the one who is loved by everyone and matches their freak...Avery!! @veraties

-Calling forth the one who saw omegaverse as my first work, the skibidi brainrotter... Sunni!! @sunnidear

-Calling forth the fist one I talked to in SH, the one who went out of her way to make a playlist for me (ILYSM) ... Snob!! @snobwaffles

-Calling forth my beloved non-related little sister, the first one to read all of my works...Phoe!! @blueluminarytheorist

-Calling forth Mrs. Sonic, the hedgehog lover and enthusiast... Victoria!! @theother-victoria

-Calling forth Lingsha and Castorice's #1 simp, the pookie who comforted me and gave me reassurance...Airi!! @lia-lillies

-Calling forth the (probably) unhinged pookie, the one who shares older sibling pain... Dev!! @devdozes

-Calling forth the definitely unhinged creature, the escapee of the white room... Zafi!! @pinkxpantha

-Calling forth #1 of tribbie nation, the one who I'm currently at war with...Icarus!! @fxngtasy

-Calling forth my #1 opp the gojo satoru hater, The Submissive Omega of them all...Kou!! @luvether

-Calling forth the hunter that I will STALK to speak to, the hunter who will WISH they never met me >:D...Crys!! @azuresaqua

THIS IS THE DISPATCH SQUAD TO HQ, WE ARE IN DIRE NEED OF MORE SOLDIERS. I REPEAT, MORE FORCES NEEDED. MORE FORCES NEEDED!

Anyone who is a member of the SH is automatically my friend! :D (No buts, I will kidnap you.) And even if you aren't, you're still free to dm me or just chat with me! Hope to see more faces in the fighting squad! ILY ALL OF YOU MWAH! Also if I miss one of you plz spam me in my inbox calling me a dumb idiot for forgetting you :<(More soldiers yet to come...)

Last updated: 2025-03-23

©your-sleeparalysisdem0n do not plagiarize, reuse, repost etc. All rights reserved.

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 | Day Thirty-One — Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader

Pairing -> jackson rippner x ghostface!reader

Summary -> In this college au, Halloween is nearing its corner, only for the festive mood to be cut short when your classmate is brutally killed. As the series of murders continues, Jackson Rippner finds himself the next target, oblivious to the fact that his hunter is you, his girlfriend, the ghostface.

KINKTOBER 2023 MLIST

Warnings: mention of death, jackson being a simp

Disclaimer: Red Eye characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

This is just an excerpt for the full-length fic that's coming out, bc I felt like this prompt deserved something much longer than just a drabble.

A/N: not me reading over this thing after it's published and seeing all the mistakes 😭

Jackson Rippner was trying to become more romantic for you, an endeavor that started about a week ago after he noticed you liked passionate men. It was a simple conversation about fictional crushes — you know, the ones you have as a kid when he realized all the men you had pointed out were terribly lovey-dovey and all sentimental-like. A few origami roses here and there, some thoughtful gifts, maybe some poetic letters, and he was sure that he could outcompete all of them. He was the only man you needed, the only man you could ever want.

He knew how it sounded—pathetic. Since when was he the type to change himself for a girl? He was no Romeo or Jack Dawson, and he certainly didn’t want to be. He wasn’t a simpering fool, chasing after a pretty girl like it was his life’s mission, but as it turned out, he was for you. And if you liked your men romantic, then Jackson would be romantic

Starting off with whatever this was: a package of your favorite stuff. For one, two books you mentioned wanting to get but couldn’t spare the money for, which Jackson painstakingly searched through the town for. He finally found them in some niche bookstore on the outskirts of Craven, overpriced for the value—or some other equally stupid bullshit—even though he knew damn well that he could get it for half the price if he drove further into the main city. He would have, but he knew his father would get pissed if he wasted that much gas money, and fearing to face his fist, he settled for the high cost. It’s for her, so it’s worth it.

For second, and last—at least for now, some bath bombs. He made them from scratch, swiping the ingredients from around the house. He used a cedar wood scent for the essential oil, as it was the closet smell he could get to his cologne, and made three bombs, wrapped them in plastic, and put them alongside the books in the bag.

It was perfect. You were going to love it. You had to love it. How could you not?

He closed the bag and placed it on his desk, ready to go to sleep, when the landline downstairs rang. It was probably telemarketers, but it could also be his parents, who were out on date night. 

He headed downstairs and picked up the phone, but the voice on the other end caught him off guard. “Hey,” a woman said, but it didn’t sound natural. It sounded like there was a voice modulator, the ones that criminals used in those crime shows you forced him to watch.

“Hey?” Jackson responded, confused, and a little irritated.

“I know who you are.”

Jackson tried to focus on the sound of the voice. Maybe he could pick out who it was if he listened close enough, but it was a fruitless effort. It was female, but too common to tell.

“You’re the one calling me,” he said, tone laced with amusement, “I should assume so.”

“Do you know who I am?”

“A creep? A weirdo?” Jackson laughed. “A stalker? I dunno. Take your pick.”

It was quiet. For a moment, he thought the woman hung up, but then she spoke again, “A lover. I’m a lover, Jackson.”

“Good for you.” He glanced back at the package he left on his desk. He was tired, and didn’t want to deal with this right now. “Now, how about you either stop acting mysterious and tell me what you want, or I cut the call.”

“Someone’s going to die tonight, Jackson,”  the woman said. Oddly enough, Jackson felt a twinge of excitement at her words. It was oddly thrilling, and adrenaline inducing to hear such a thing. It was at this point he realized with himself that this was a prank, because who would just admit to premeditated murder? but still—it was hot. He wished you would say those things.  

“I hope it’s that girl from my English class. What’s her name? Ah, fuck, I forgot. She’s the bitchy one —all emotion. Screams every time the lights go out. You know her?”

“Yeah, I know her.”

So, she’s been on campus, Jackson thought. Following me, maybe. I can’t believe it! 

“It’s not her, though. But who knows, maybe she’ll be next. Would you like that?”

“Doll, I really don’t care. Do me a favor, and don’t call me again.”

He put the phone down and went back upstairs. What a fucking psycho. He was too tired to deal with this shit. After freshening up, he pulled the covers over himself and turned off the lamp, drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Taglist:

@rainyforest777

@thatwitchybitch420

@madeinuk

@gentyleman

@henrywintersdearestgirl

@shroombloom-rry

@meetmeatyourworst

@mrkdvidal1989

[simpy-simpers]

Welcome, welcome!!!!

Hi there! I’m Simpy-Simpers, you can call me SS, Simps, Simpy, Simpers, or Simmy. (Anything recognizable!)

MASTERPOST!

Many stories may come around. I’ve been working on this on and off for about 2 years, and I’ve had time to fully choose what I’d like to do with it.

If you want to drop in and just say hi, great! I’m here to chat, answer questions, and maybe even take requests. I do have my own designs and AU versions of all of the Security Breach characters, and any questions you ask could lead to further lore, so ask away! I don’t bite (yes I do).

I’ll post art, writing snippets, ideas, or even lore dumps here. 

Perfectly fine to:

Reblog art with ship tags! Just because I didn't make it to be that way doesn't mean you can't interpret that.

Have headcannons for gender/sexual identities of the characters within my au. Very few of them actually have canon sexualities and/or gender identities, primarily because I don't tend to focus on it and I think it's more fun to see what others will come up with. Go off!

Ship (near) anything in the au. I do not support proshipping! If it's something to where they're related, there's a massive age gap, or one is a minor, then I will most likely block you if you know this and proceed to ship it.

Tag me!!! If you make art or anything in related to my AU I want to see it!! Tag me so I can reblog it <33

Do Not:

Break any of the above.

Be purposefully mean! If you don't like some of what I do, either block the tag, or block me.

Bring up political things. Yes I do have political beliefs, and I'm not sharing them. This is freaking Fnaf. The most political we're getting is tax evasion, be fr rn guys. Let's have fun.

DO NOT STEAL MY ART. I do NOT allow reposts on other sights (THIS INCLUDES PINTEREST. IF I WANT IT ON PINTEREST I WILL ADD IT MYSELF(AND I DO)). I do NOT want prints of my art done unless it is me who is selling it. I do NOT want stickers nor diamond dots of my art done. If you see this, shoot me a DM and tell me.

Thank you! Stay simping <333

[itsrheasgirl]

AN UNEXPECTED GUEST - PART 8

Chapter 2 for Forbidden Love series. The Forbidden Love series follows a relationship between Rhea x Reader.

•

The Reader has a strong friendship with Liv Morgan.

•

Liv is in love with The Reader but hasn’t told them.

•

fem!reader - rhea x reader.

•

@elsholic @riverscyberwife @you-got-me-star-lost-16 @innagnv @bittersweetastoria @chillinbri @call-me-a-simp @sithfar @rooskaya-yelena @half-of-a-gay @teenagedramaqueenlisa @hit-the-dirt-and-get-back-on @bl0w-m3 @l0v3e1i

•

You could sit on the beach forever, the ocean breeze blowing through Rhea’s hair as she nuzzled into your neck. Her arms tightly wrapped around you as you looked out at the rise and fall of the crashing waves.

Being in her arms was so comforting, even in the calmest of situations it felt like she was protecting you. Keeping you safe from anything that could harm you. Inhaling a shallow breath, you let you lids flutter closed as your words left your lips in a soft utter.

“You don’t have to stay with me, you still have Monday to rest up for.”

You felt Rhea’s chest vibrate as she laughed softly. The draft selections were set to go into effect upon everyone’s return from San Juan and of course The Judgement Day had to make an appearance at Monday night raw. Rhea’s career kept her very busy and you didn’t want to be responsible for her tiredness.

“I don’t want you getting hurt because I kept you awake all weekend.”

A soft chuckle parted Rhea’s lips before she pressed them gently against your jugular, your own lips curling into a warm grin as you gave her palms a soft squeeze.

“I’m not leaving you.”

She uttered against your skin, returning the soft squeeze of your palms.

“If this is where you need to be, then this is where we will stay.”

It made you smile that Rhea seemed to do whatever it was you needed. She constantly took care of your needs over her own and it tugged at your heartstrings. Why would someone care for someone else so much when all they were to each other was friends.

Tilting you head slightly to rest it upon her shoulder, you look up at her with glistening hues.

She must care for you— at least a little. This weekend had been proof of that. She’d stood against one of her closest friends for you.

Inhaling a small breath, you release one of her palms to cup it around Rhea’s cheek and tilt her features down to look upon you.

“You fought Liv for me.”

Rhea leant into your touch for a few moments before shaking her head gently, a soft bubble of laughter parting her lips as she brought her free hand up to tap the tip of your nose with her finger.

“Let’s not talk about the past, pretty girl.”

Her lips curved into an impish simper as she leant in to press a soft kiss against the shell of your ear, her pearly white gently nipping at the soft flesh before whispering in a sweet nothings tone.

“I’d much rather talk about the future.”

Rhea’s future was lit with neon lights, with roaring crowds, with triumph after triumph and every single part of that made you proud. She was a superstar and the world was finally seeing what she was worth.

A warm simper claimed your lips as you gave her palm another gentle squeeze, leaning your head back against her shoulder once more as you looked up at the stars that glistened across the moon lit sky.

“Your future shines so bright, Dems. You’re an idol for so many people. An inspiration to so many more. Your future couldn’t be better if you tried.”

A small chortle echoed from Rhea’s chest as she returned her gaze to the open ocean, her lips twitching into an almost childlike grin as she almost whispered the words.

“I can think of one way it could be better.”

A soft hum vibrated behind your smile as you shifted your gaze to peek over at her through thick lashes.

“Is that so? And what might that be?”

Rhea didn’t remove her gaze from the ocean— her full lashes not once blinking as she spoke, the tone in her voice as casual as they come.

“Seeing you more.”

Did she expect you to not react to that? Take her words as if it was a simple statement and not something as overwhelming as her wanting to spend more time with you. To actually see you again.

You had come to San Juan terrified that Rhea wouldn’t even want to see you and now here you were, at the end of your trip with her telling you she wanted to see you more.

Your lips twitch into an impish grin as you place one of your palms down against Rhea’s chest, your shimmering gaze dropped to meet her sapphire hues.

“— Really?”

You stammered slightly, removing your hand from Rhea’s chest and using your arms to lift yourself off the sand enough to rotate your entire frame round to face her head on.

Rhea couldn’t help the small laugh that broke through her lips as she watched you struggling to turn around before her, both her palms finding comfort on your shoulders as she tilts her head slightly.

“Yes really.”

Your heart rate increased slightly as Rhea’s words started to settle in, you’d dreamt of the day that you could be with her in a way that actually meant something. Having her in your life as a friend was acceptable, it meant you got to see her every now and then. But having her in your life permanently— it warmed your soul.

Rhea pressed her lips into a thin line as she gave your shoulders a tentative squeeze, unable to control the eat shit grin that forced itself across her features.

“What?”

You scoffed through a delicate laugh, twisting your head to press a kiss to the top of her hand as she held onto your shoulders. Your gaze returning to hers as you waited for her to speak.

The shimmering sapphire of Rhea’s gaze glistened in the moon light as you sat looking deep into each others eyes, your palm sliding over her thigh as you encouraged her to say something.

“Dems..”

You whispered, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze.

“Y/N, I like you. I like you a lot.”

She chortled softly, her palms moving from your shoulders to gently cup around your cheeks.

“You being here this weekend. It just— it feels like it was just meant to be. I’ve spent the last few weeks driving Dominik and Damian insane talking about you. Every conversation, I found a way to make about you.”

Rhea’s glimmering ocean hues stayed fixated on your features, the corners of your lips twitching into a warm smile as you leant into the comfort of her palm as she spoke.

“Having to leave LA.”

She exhaled softly, tracing the apple of your cheek with her thumb over and over.

“Without even getting to say goodbye. I just—”

Rhea’s words trailed off into silence as she exhaled another shallow breath and released her hold on your cheeks, her gaze dropping slightly before you slipped a singular finger under her chin to tilt it back up.

Rhea needed to know she wasn’t alone in this, that her feelings were reciprocated. Even though the idea terrified you— finally admitting to the feelings that you’d felt for so long, she deserved to know.

“I came here not knowing if you would even want to see me. I didn’t know what LA meant, or how you felt about it. For all I knew..”

Your gaze dropped, a shallow sign falling from your lips as you felt the softness of Rhea’s fingers cradle your chin and lift it back upward so she could look upon your features once more. Her head shaking gently before she cupped one of your cheeks again.

“For all you knew what? For all you knew it was just a booty call, that I was just using you to get some action.”

A small chortled vibrated in Rhea’s chest as she leant forward to place her forehead against your own, her lids fluttering closed as she inhaled a breath.

“I’m crazy about you, Y/N. I have been for a long time, but I though you just saw me as one of Liv’s colleagues.”

Your heart began to flutter as she spoke. Overwhelming excitement and instant panic battling in your subconscious as you focused on keeping your breathing level.

“Are you insane.”

You scoffed, a harmonious laugh following quickly after.

“From the moment I met you, it’s like you had this invisible hold on me. Like a string that tied us together, even when we were far apart. When ever I got to see Liv, she would always tell me stories about you. About the funny things you’d do and the mischief you’d start together. It often left me unable to stop thinking about you and that terrified me.”

Your heartbeat was beginning to pound in your ears, Rhea’s brow furrowing slightly against your own before she pulled back with concern.

“Terrified you?”

There was clear question in her tone, her glistening hues remaining locked with yours as you spoke.

“You’re Rhea Bloody Ripley, you’re terrifying.”

The soft bubble of laughter that parted Rhea’s lips echoed in your ears as she cupped both palms round your cheeks, her plush lips finding yours with a passion filled kiss. Her fingertips finding their way into you hair, gently pulling the electric that held your bun free from the mess of tendrils as they fell delicately to your shoulders.

Pulling back with heavy breath, Rhea beamed with happiness as she pressed another quick kiss to your lips.

“Do I still terrify you?”

Pushing the strands of hair back over your shoulders to let them fall down your back, Rhea kept a watchful eye on you.

“Yes.”

You state, quickly continuing before Rhea can comment.

“Yes you do, but in a whole new way.”

You could see the concern on Rhea’s features, her brow furrowing slightly as she dropped her hands into her lap.

“Demi Bennett, I’m terrified about you. About hurting you, about doing something that will break your heart. I’m terrified about making this real.”

You stop abruptly, pressing your lips into a flat line. You hadn’t actually confirmed anything and here you were assuming Rhea was yours.

Taking both Rhea’s palms in yours, you slowly trace your thumb over the tattooed lines on the top of her hand. Not meeting her gaze, but letting her know you were there.

“We don’t have to label this, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

Rhea exhaled a soft breath as she leant her forehead down against your own, her lids dropping closed as she released your hands to wrap her forearms around the back of your neck.

“I just know I need to keep seeing you. I can’t let you out of my life now that I’ve finally found out how happy you make me.”

- - - - - - - - - -

You’d found comfort laying back against Rhea’s chest as the two of you continued to watch the waves crash and fall against the sand, her muscular arms wrapped tightly around you to keep the soft ocean air from chilling your exposed skin.

You still couldn’t believe that she’d expressed an eager desire to see you after this weekend— it’s what you’d hoped for, but of course she didn’t know that. The thought of Rhea being in your life more was still so daunting, it wasn’t often you got to spend time with her and repeatedly found yourself wishing she would end up in New York so you had an excuse to see her. But now.. now she would be finding excuses to see you.

You tilted your cheek to rest it against Rhea’s chest, peeking up through thick lashes as she looked down at you with a warm smirk.

“Can I help you?”

Rhea questioned before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, her arms giving you a gentle squeeze as you inhale a breath.

“Are you tired?”

Your brow arched slightly as you attempted to hide the impish smirk that tugged at your lips, a sinful idea for some fun flashing through your mind.

“Not really.”

Rhea stated with questioning in her tone.

“Why, are you? We can go back to bed.”

Spinning yourself around to position yourself sat back on your legs, you peck a swift kiss against Rhea’s lips before placing a singular palm onto her chest and begin to push her back into the sand.

“Ooooor.”

The smirk upon your lips turns devilish as you hover yourself inches from Rhea’s features, pressing a gentle kiss upon her lips before trailing gentle nips along her jawline and slowly down the length of her neck.

A small hum vibrated in Rhea’s chest as her lids fell closed and her head rested back upon the towel you’d been sitting on, her palm sliding over your lower back to stop you from moving yourself away from her.

Rested on all fours, you continue to place heated kisses and gentle nips at the soft flesh of Rhea’s jugular. One of your palms slipping beneath the fabric of the small top that clung to her torso, your fingers cup around the perfect mound of her breast.

You’d spent the passing weeks thinking of your first time with Rhea. How euphoric she’d made you feel and how you’d hope to get a chance at making her feel the same way.

“Feeling a little wild, pretty girl?”

Rhea uttered, shifting her torso to rest up on her elbows. The tips of her fingers slowly began to dance up and down your spine as she exhaled a stammered breath, the sound of her swallowing causing a small smirk to tug at your lips as you whispered huskily against her ear.

“It’s my turn, Mami.”

Rhea’s lower lip rolled between her pearly whites as the heat of your breath warmed the shell of her ear, her fingertips dancing higher up your spine before slowly descending back down to cup her palm around the mound of your ass.

“Oh?”

She purred, nipping at the angle of your jawline as her palm shifting from your ass cheek to slide between your thighs. The tips of her fingers circling against the fabric of your shorts to tease at your core.

“So you think you’re in charge?”

You couldn’t help the soft whimper that claimed your lips as you pressed a few scattered kisses across the line of Rhea’s jaw, the palm that held her bare breast sliding under her torso to arch her closer to you.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Rhea would keep the control in this current situation, but you didn’t care— as long as you got to please her just like she had for you.

You hadn’t drawn your lips far from her ear, keeping your tone husky and seductive as you uttered against her skin

“I guess we’ll have to find out.”

Part 9

[coyfsh]

I do what I like to call “tactical simping.”

It’s where you start to simp for a character AFTER everyone else has. Sometimes I hyper-fixate on a character who was popular YEARS AGO.

so why is it tactical?

all of the fan fictions , art works, and audios are already released. meaning: I don’t have to wait for them to come out.

reblog if your a tactical simper.

[heich0e]

if you've sent in an ask lately that i didn't respond to, it may be answered under the cut! i'll be dividing these posts up by general subject matter so no one has to scroll for too long to find any asks they may have sent. feel free to block the tag #liv got mail if you don't like seeing posts like this. i'm sorry to have kept you waiting, and p.s. i love you very much <3

part two: general inquiries ✉

✉ Anonymous asked: omg liv did you watch the barbie movie

I HAVENT SEEN IT YET!!! when i tell u that everything that can happen in a lifetime has happened to me in the past 14 calendar days i am NOT!! KIDDING!! but i have plans to go see it with two of my best friends (either this weekend or early next week) and we've all secretly planned pink outfits and we're going out for drinks too it's going to be SOOOOOOOOO FUN!! oh how i love being a woman!!

✉ Anonymous asked: Liv i got my underarms waxed and it hurt. Have you ever gotten your underarms waxed? If so did you bleed a bit? Cause I did and I wanna know if that’s normal lol

i've gotten waxes but not my underarms but a quick google told me pinpoint bleeding is probably ok?? that being said i am about the LEAST qualified person on this beautiful earth to whom u could direct this question. what's next? questions about cars?? taxes?? i am not smart enough 4 this!!

✉ Anonymous asked: Liv is it true that your work can access all your social media accounts thru your email? If so, I may need to make another acc

hi friend i am no cyber security whiz by any means but i always operate under the assumption that anything that comes into or goes out of or is in anyway linked to a company email BELONGS to the company. i treated my college email the same way. even using company wifi is dicey in terms of privacy, so just use your best judgement and i would advise that it's always better to err on the side of caution <3

✉ Anonymous asked: real talk liv how long after sending a text should i stop waiting for a reply back because i feel like a sad SIMP

u know what i am probably biased here bc i am TRULY the worst texter in the world. my phone has been on do not disturb since at least 2019. i do not wish to be contacted ever (unless i'm texting u first in which case i expect an immediate response tysm xo)

with that in mind, i think it's not fair to CONSTANTLY expect immediate communication bc a lot of factors play into that (work, social lives, sleep, time actively trying to be unplugged, current mental state, etc.) HOWEVER!! when it comes to romantic dalliances (which i am interpreting this as and i'm sorry if i'm misreading) i think there's kind of fair expectation of communication if interest if reciprocated. i know it's so cringe n cliche but the whole "if they wanted to they would" thing has at least a vein of truth in it, so if you feel like ur energy/effort isn't being met (especially if it was previously and this is a sudden change) i think that's always a bit of a red flag. maybe not red. yellow? or like a deep yellow veering on orange.

sending u love little guy and wishing u all the best!! u deserve to be the SIMPEE not the SIMPER <3

[jaegeraether]

Im a simper for this damn ridley-alexia relationship. From the bar to now and al in between, i cant even understand how you come up with all this ideas och how to write all the details down so good.

This is truly the best story i have read in a long while, better than most of the books i have read. I think bc its such a special relationship with their backgrounds.

But i really mean it, its absolutely amazing.

You’re amazing 🥹 thanks so much. The nice messages like this mean everything to me. It’s honestly what gets me through. 💕

Funnily, I started writing with the intention of just writing basic smut but I physically can’t 😅 I need the relationships, the backstories, the personalities, experiences etc. I need to know why they’re doing things or why they’re that way and actually believe it. So I’m glad that it’s come across that way for the readers too!

I’ll go back through when I’m done to fix all the mistakes and then I may print it out and keep a copy to be proud of. We are almost up to 300,000 words after all! 🫠

Thanks again! You’re amazing. 💕

(And if you’re a simp for them, imagine what I am 🙈 look closely enough and you’ll find myself in a character or three.)

[verse-the-comic]

==> TORCHWOOD: is ezili simps just fen cake all over again. have you once more prepared yourself for simps of every characters except the one who got simps.

I am fucked beyond comprehension. Beyond comprehension, man.

[jerzwriter]

OK… I am soft. They are adorable.

Just one complaint… it seems to be happening too quickly, too easily, where is the pining and drama? Any coming?

Of course, it is likely based on my choices, too. I am already simping… because a handsome, sarcastic ass is my kryptonite.

I’d live to see screenshots from a non-simper for comparison.

@choicesbookclub

[sor-vette]

Do you know how gloves fit each other? {drabble}

Behold the dreadful effects of simping, gentlemen

• type: Yoongi x reader • genre/about: crack, fluff

• tagging: @moon-write @mintkims @pinkcherrybombs

• masterlist

• a/n: thanks to @skyys-universe for the prompt, hope you like even though it turned out quite differently than planned

Have you ever seen the sky split open? Or perhaps oceans rise? Anything that you thought was impossible, that a higher power or an apocalyptic event had to create with whatever number of hands they had? Because Namjoon had, and it's the form of Min Yoongi giggling and tucking a strand of hair behind his ear like an infatuated schoolchild. 

"That's unnatural," Jimin whispers, horrified at the pink on his friend's cheeks beginning to burn brighter. "That's… He's possessed by a demon, there's no other way."

"Maybe the demon was Yoongi, and they exorcised him and now that thing is the original Yoongi," Jin supposes, proceeding to prod the pink flamingo in his cocktail. 

"Behold the dreadful effects of simping, gentlemen," Taehyung shakes his head mournfully as they are forced to watch their fearsome Yoongi melt into a puddle of heart-shaped goo, all because a certain bartender graced him with a reply. 

"I think it's cute," Hoseok shrugged, happily observing Yoongi grow more joyful as the evening passed. "Sure, he's bankrupt from coming here every chance he gets, but it's still cute."

The night ends with them having to pry Yoongi's serenading figure from your bar top after he promises to return once he was done being kidnapped. 

"Well, it was nice to catch up guys," Namjoon sighs as his taxi arrived. "Let's not fall out of touch."

"Let's not," Jin agrees, patting him on the back. Inebriated, soft laughter rises behind them and upon looking, they find Yoongi hunched over by the sidewalk, glued to his phone. 

"I'm going to hurl," Jimin backs away, disgusted. They all part, reprimanding Yoongi for once again ignoring them the whole evening, leaving Hoseok to deal with his roommate. 

"Come on, let's go," Hoseok grabs his friend's elbow and tugs the simpering mess upright. His phone lights up again and as Hoseok glances down, he sees Yoongi's cheeks turn red.

From: 🖤

Remember, you owe 100 000 ₩

"They're hounding you for bill and you're laughing," Hoseok mutters in disbelief, but then he notices the message that has this poor sap giggling at the stars.

Drink some water and sleep well 💋

"They kissed me," Yoongi breathes, somehow winded, as he sways back and forth in Hoseok's hold. "They kissed me!" 

It's 8:30 in the morning and Hoseok is sleeping peacefully, he's gliding on a cloud among cherubs who suspiciously look like Jimin when suddenly they turn into harpies (that look like mad Jimin) and he wakes up to a startling, terrified screaming. 

Disorientated, he finds himself on the floor, tailbone - most likely broken. He rushes through the doors into their small living room and finds Yoongi yelling into a pillow. 

"Good morning," Hoseok greets him smoothly. "What the fuck?" 

Yoongi takes the pillow off his face, grimacing like he's about to vomit. Then flops on the carpet, shrivelling up all without saying a word. 

Perhaps Jimin was right, and he was indeed possessed. Hoseok takes a cautious step closer and notices Yoongi's phone unlocked on the sofa.

To: 🖤

Heeeeyyyyyy babbbbbbyyy

I donnnt havvej moneuv Im broke 😞 byf I can pay u 😏

U WANNA MARRY ME

CAUSE I WANT TO

marry u not me 

I just thinn we are God fit

*good fit 

Ure like a pair of jeans I liek

wait no

Dyou know how gloves fit each other 

Yheres a right and a left oen

Thats why they a pair 

Unless someone has 1 hand guss they don't need 2 then… 

I jus really really like u

I canbt say it unless I'm dbnk but I'm broke right now so I'll just havev to saygbit 

Wihkd you like to go out with me?

Don't u thinj we fit eacb other? 

We have so muc fun when we together

Not that kind 😳 or maybe 🤤🥴

You're hust…. I neve r believed that there is someone like another half of em 

*me

But u complete me and I think I compete u

*complete 

U r imperfectly perfect 

U know I only ever go there for u

Pls I have a u shaped hole in my heart 😣

Okkaauy immm sleeping now 

Goodnight

After a five minute pause, comes the last line.

Holly's gonna love u  🖤

Hoseok, at this point in Yoongi's texts, had managed to get some snacks and was quite eagerly munching on them while reading, with a half-amused smirk.

"Yes, that is quite embarrassing."

Yoongi falls quiet and with down-turned shoulders rises from the floor. 

"Where did you put my sword? I must kill myself immediately to preserve honour."

"Yeah, there's no honour to preserve," Hoseok scratches at his chin, giving the texts one more read. 

Yoongi hides his face in his palms and lets out a mortified groan. 

A new text message appears in the chat.

From: 🖤

So… are you still alive after this?

Without hesitation, knowing that Yoongi would actually fall on a sword more agreeably than face you, Hoseok types out a message.

Barely. He's close to passing - Yoongi's roommate, Hobi ☺️

Hmm, fair. 

Listen, if you can tolerate him even a little bit could you please do this snivelling mess a favour and go out with him? 

Is Holly his daughter?... He said Holly will like me

Oh, Holly's his dog. He's as sappy for him as he's for you. 

That sure is flattering.

Hoseok glances up at Yoongi who was shuffling towards the bathroom ponderously eyeing the toaster all the way.

Do you like Yoongi? 

I do… so if you could tell him that I'd be happy to meet him, that'd be great 

Thank you!! We'll get you a lot of presents for your wedding

Sweet. I want a mini-fridge

Sorted, my friend

Hoseok goes into the bathroom, faintly making out Yoongi's crouching figure underneath the water torrent and after putting his phone down on the counter, leaves the room. 

Fifteen minutes later, a body falls on the bathroom floor and there comes a meek, whimpering little "ouch." 

© sor-vette, 2022