#but like. i don’t care that much actually

[artemisiasmuse]

sex ban | toxic rafe x toxic reader

cw: obvi mdni 18+, toxic jealous rafe, physical violence (not towards the reader), sex ban lifted!, p in v, multiple rounds, unprotected (don’t do this), munch of the year rafe, crying during sex, squirting, headlock, oral receiving for both of them, mentions of blood, again these bitches are crazy

~ 4k words

an: this was so filthy i think i need to go to church (im not even christian) also don’t know if how i described the positions made sense but we move T_T

“you can’t be serious?” rafe looked up from his hands, you’d cleaned off the blood all the while being extremely pissed off. you couldn’t believe he beat someone to a pulp, again, just for checking you out. you hated how good he looked covered in blood, hated how even now you could feel your underwear getting sticky from your arousal.

“i am, no sex for two weeks, maybe then you’ll stop being such an asshole!” surely you were joking, there’s no way you’d hold out on him that long. he knew he wouldn’t survive without your pussy and he prayed you would give up after a few days. his prayers weren’t answered.

two weeks passed with the ease of a thousand pounds dropped onto rafe’s shoulders. he was irritable all the time, practically blue-balled the entire time, and couldn’t stand being in the room with anyone that wasn’t you. at some point, after he begged to at least eat you out, you stopped letting him come over at night even. rafe was practically vibrating with need, yet you seemed so unaffected.

he had a fucking reminder set on his phone for midnight when the two weeks was over, of course he was already on the way to your place at 11:50. you expected nothing less, unlocking the door for him preemptively, and he huffed out a breath when he found you sitting on your couch watching tv like it was nothing. like you didn’t care. rafe was so pent up he might come from a single stroke of your tiny hand around his cock, but here you were, calm and collected. you muted the tv when you saw him, he sat next to you, leaving a gap he normally wouldn’t, and began to apologize.

“baby it’s been two weeks, i’m sorry okay? i’ll do better.”

“you said that last time.”

“i mean it this time, i won’t beat anyone up, unless you want me to.” you roll your eyes at his addition, turning your body to face him. rafe’s eyes tracked the way your shirt rode up your thighs, realizing it was actually his shirt. his mouth felt dry, he hadn’t been so hard from so little since he was a fucking preteen.

“okay.” you conceded, you kinda had to, rafe looked a lil too good like he knew the exact outfit that would make you forgive him easily. his hands were veiny and a ring accentuated his long thick fingers, fingers you missed dearly. yours just weren’t cutting it any more, he knew exactly how to touch you, fill you, make your mind numb. and that was just his fingers, his pink tongue had slipped out to lick at his lips and you can’t focus much longer, all the memories flashing by.

“okay?” rafe couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he couldn’t believe you were taking him back so easily. he didn’t dare move or touch you until you confirmed.

“uh huh, your apology is accepted.” you nodded slow like molasses, your eyes already glazed over with need. he couldn’t tell, he was so caught up in his own desire. and as the word left your pretty lips, the spell was lifted.

“fuck come here” the words are empty, his large hand closes around the back of your neck and pulls you to him, his lips finding your own. you’d kissed the past two weeks but this is different, this is urgent. he’s sloppy with it, tongue peeking out into your mouth, tasting you, sucking on your tongue. it’s less of a kiss and more of a bite, he wants to consume you. you groan into his mouth, unsatisfied with the distance between you two and you move to straddle him. rafe pulls back at that, no he wouldn’t let you, he’d much rather have you on your back, he pushes you down by your neck, the slight pressure makes you keen. there’s no chance for you to sit back up when he’s leaning over you, settling between your legs and kissing you back down.

his kisses trail off, bites and open-mouthed kisses trailing your neck till he reaches your collarbone. your shirt is discarded with a blink of your eye and you wonder if he’s moving too fast. you can barely keep up when a mouth latches over your nipple, sucking harshly. “fuckkk i missed my girls” a lewd pop releases it from his mouth, giving attention to the other one and you arch into his touch. his large hand closes around the now sore nipple, pinching and massaging while he sucks on your tit like his life depends on it. the cold metal of his ring soothes the sting of his bites and you moan his name in desperation. the stickiness in your underwear is getting embarrassing and you feel like a fire is burning in your core. there’s no need for you to ask, rafe wants to eat, he’s been starving for weeks and your pussy is the only thing that can satiate him. after littering your chest and neck with hickies he kisses down your stomach, marveling at how soft your skin is, how he should never take an inch of it for granted any more. when he finally reaches your pink lace panties, he realizes it’s too much work to take them off you. that would require him getting off you and he really couldn’t afford to move an inch away. his fingers trace the flimsy material and he decides very quickly, tearing it off you with ease, and you hear the rip before you feel it. you don’t even notice him stuff the material into his pocket from the shock.

“rafe!” you don’t know if you’re mad or even more turned on but you wiggle under his gaze, blue eyes glued to your puffy and slick cunt. the tv screen illuminates enough for him to see his pretty girl is soaked. he nearly drools.

“getting in the way of my meal, i’ll buy you new ones.” he murmurs, not even looking away once, you huff at his words, and push his head down. he doesn’t need any encouragement, he’s nearly cumming in his pants from the sight of your pussy alone. if he could he’d take a polaroid of it and keep it in his pocket forever.

rafe is a man possessed, pushing you up the sofa length to make space for him between your legs, he hikes one up the cushions to rest on the back of the sofa, the other onto his shoulder so he can fit between them. you don’t even know if you exist to him any more because he’s smiling at your pussy like it’s his girlfriend instead. he shoves his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal, it’s honey to his senses and his eyes flutter shut at how good you smell. then his tongue flattens against your pussy and he might just cry. you gasp at the feeling, wet and hard across your opening and clit, so brief you think you imagined it. rafe moans at the taste, let’s you coat his tongue before he goes back in for seconds, swirling his tongue along your weeping cunt until he’s thoroughly cleaned his plate. he’s moaning at your taste, tears pricking his eyes as it stains the back of his teeth, his hands grip your waist to drive you down to his tongue. he knows you’re gonna run from it, you always do. finally his tongue fills you up, delving into and cleaning you out, the feeling of the muscle squirming inside you makes you writhe in pleasure. “taste so fucking good, never letting this go again,” he slurs into you. you can feel yourself get wet again and he feels precum stain his boxers as more of your ichor slips down his throat. it’s not enough, he wants more, his right hand joins in, one finger curling into you along with his tongue and his thumb idly swirls along your clit. the combination of his tongue and finger fucking you and his drunken moans, make you come on his tongue embarrassingly fast. you’re gushing into his mouth more and rafe doesn’t even budge when you push at his forehead, the overstimulation stings and your poor walls flutter around his tongue, trying to drive him out, he only goes crazier. his tongue slips out a trail of saliva and your slick connecting him to you before he attaches his lips to your clit. you shake at the sensation, not yet come down from your previous orgasm. he sucks and laves over your clit, setting your body aflame. he takes the opportunity to slip another finger in, stretching you more than anything in the past two weeks, and he can tell your pussy is going to feel amazing on his cock. you’re struggling to take two fingers and he can’t help but moan at the thought. you hate how quickly he brings you to your next orgasm, your legs threatening to close around him and he makes a noise of disapproval. your mind feels numb now and you jump at his touches. rafe gives you a few seconds to recover, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, but when he tastes you again it’s not his fault he needs another hit. you’re a bit shocked yourself when he releases his hold on your legs and sits back. your wide round eyes making him chuckle at your disbelief. “you’re gonna sit on my face baby.” he resounds and you blink at him twice before sitting up, you wince at the way you’re drooling onto the couch and how you suddenly feel empty. rafe positions himself with his head poised for your pussy to sit on. you gawk at him.

“won’t i crush you?” besides your question you’re raised up ob your knees almost hovering over him, he could just-

“shut the fuck up.” he pulls you close and pushes your hips down to sit you down himself, your sloppy cunt meeting his lips and he’s in heaven. he wants to die like this, suffocated by your pussy. you try to shift your weight back onto your knees but he doesn’t let you, holding you down by your ass. when he licks up into you, you lose your resolve entirely. if he was a mess before, now he’s a goner. he’s spitting up into you, making out with your cunt and swirling his tongue along you, along every inch he can. your rock your cunt over his face, lost in pleasure and when his nose bumps your clit your legs nearly close on his head, he groans at the pressure. you’re practically dripping into his mouth and it’s all he could ask for; tears falling down his face just mix in with the mess of liquids running down his face and pooling on his neck and chest. you continue to rock against him, your cushiony thighs closing around his head and rafe feels himself twitch in his pants, he’s so fucking close just from eating you out. but he can’t even find it in him to care, no he’s crying from how good you taste, he’s past the point of caring. when you finally cum around his tongue he comes in his pants, moaning as you scream his name. you’re shaking uncontrollably, riding out your orgasm and thrashing along his face. your thighs press tightly against his head and he continues to drink you in, until finally your legs give out and you fall off him.

“pussy so good i came in my pants and you’re gonna clean it up.” you look at him in a daze, your body moving on its own accord, moving to your knees on the carpet. your body’s shaking but you still manage to claw at his buttons. “good girl.” he smiles down at you, chin and lips wet from your release and he’s not even dreaming of wiping himself clean, he wants it to stain him, seep into his pores. a whine crawls up your throat as you work his pants off, he’s sitting on the couch in front of you and you want to help him so badly. his cock finally springs free and he breathes out in relief, the cool air making him more sensitive after his release. the worst part is he’s still fucking hard. your eyes round at the sight of him, come lining his length, dribbling down the veins and blushed pink top. it’s so pretty you can’t help but stare. rafe slips a hand around your face, pulling you in, making you stop your staring and instead get to work. you might be drooling from the sight, it’s hard to tell because your mouth closes around him and everything is already so wet. a sick squelch resounds in the air as you lick up and down his length, he fights the urge to thrust into the wet tight heat of your mouth. you make sure to clean up his balls, your hand jerking him off while you’re down there, “fuck you’re doing so well baby.”

“missed this rafey” you hum at the taste of his come, thick and gooey on your tongue and the vibration makes him twitch in your mouth. rafe feels so close already, you’ve already cleaned him up, now you’re just cock drunk, taking him down as far as you can and pressing kisses to his tip. he doesn’t want it to end like this no, he’d rather fill you up properly, so he pulls your head off his length with a pop! and you glare at him and whine, like an insolent puppy whose toy was taken away. there’s a delicious sting from the hair he pulled and heat pools in your stomach again, you can’t tell if you’re wet or if it’s rafe’s saliva you like to think it’s both.

“come here.” rafe hoists you onto his lap, giving you two seconds to adjust before he lifts you both up and makes his way to your bedroom. his shirt comes off along with yours and you clamber up the length of your mattress to rest your head on your pillow while you still can. from how angry and hard his cock still is you know it’s gonna be a long night.

“remember your safe word right?” rafe flips you over, your momentary comfort gone just like that, he presses against your back hard. your ass perks into the air while he arches you just so. he’s waiting for your response, because one look at your pussy, glistening from another wave of desire, rafe knows he’s going to find it impossible to hold back. he’s vibrating with a need to fuck you already, dribbles of precum spurting out of him against his stomach. what a waste, there’s a perfect little hole that could use it. he smacks your ass once, lightly just to remind you to use your words.

“yes, fuck me please.” your voice is muffled against your bedsheets, but he hears it perfectly. when his tip presses against your tight hole, he thinks he might be religious. not to god or anything else, just you. you’re sucking in him, holding your cheeks apart for him like you know he likes and he groans at how you feel like silk around him. your cunt’s so warm and tight, rafe thinks he might never leave you again. once his tip is in you remember how to breathe, the initial stretch finally over. he can’t give you the time you need to adjust, he might start crying again, or worse come early. rafe pushes the rest of his inches in, bullying his way in, pressing you into the mattress just so your cunt could give in. you scream at the feeling of him being all the way in, the angle making him nestle against your g-spot while his tip rubs against your cervix. you feel ropes of pre spurt inside you and you feel tears slip down your cheeks from the pain, you know it hurts, you just can’t find it in you to care.

“s’good,” you’re mind is numb, the only thoughts are spiraling around your boyfriend and his stupid long cock. a sick ring of come and your slick circles the base of his length, his pubes soaked from both of you. he can’t hold back any more, not when you’re wiggling your hips for more. rafe pulls out all the way and slaps back into you, pulling you into him just so he can really fill you all the way. the force of his thrust and the way he tip nudges along your walls, grazing where you needed him most, as you screaming in pleasure, your poor pussy closing on him just so he can stay inside. not that it matters he’s hammering in and out of you so fast you think you might get whiplash. his hips drive you down into the mattress, stuffing you as much he can so you don’t run from it, like you’re already trying to do.

“fuck fuck fuck! too much hng rafe i can’t-“ the slap of his hips against yours are almost bruising, he’s pulling you back by a tight hold around you and it’s hard to breathe. there’s a pressure building in you that you don’t recognize and it’s almost painful how bad it feels to go unaddressed, something must be wrong. but rafe can feel himself getting close, just from your pathetic whines and screams.

“you can and you will.” there’s no room for argument when he’s flipping you onto your back, your head jostling and you blink away the tears in your eyes. you want to see him, want to look into his pretty eyes, rafe can’t help but laugh at your desperate expression. no, he’s no too far gone.

“dumb little girl, i could tell you were turned on, you know?” he maneuvers you onto your side, spooning you and pulling your leg over his so he can slip back in. the new angle steals your breath as you try to focus on what he just said, panic seeping into your system.

“wh-no i wasn’t.” you shake your head insolently, he’s rolling his eyes at your meager denial. his thrusts start out slow, testing the limits of how far he can reach, and it’s not far. a huff of annoyance teases the shell of your ear and you gulp at his proximity.

“tell me the truth and i’ll let you come.” it’s a whisper, soft and sweet, you know what’s to come will be anything but.

“fine! you looked so hot covered in blood-“ he grabs under your knee and lifts it up, slamming deeper into you cutting you off. “oh my god-“ rafe can’t handle not being all the way in, he loves the way his head kisses your cervix, how his veins have molded you to fit them, how he can feel come slipping out of you and dribbling down his length since there’s no space for anything. an addiction, one that he won’t give up. “that doesn’t make it-rafe!-okay!” you manage to get out between thrusts

“yeah yeah i get it.” he’s had enough of your lecturing, the arm that’s not holding your knee, loops around your front, closing around your neck and throat. his thick bicep presses against you in a headlock and he leverages the tight grip to pull you back into him, shutting you up finally. the only sounds that can be heard are of your pretty pussy squelching and gasping for him to be back inside. there’s the occasional moan from you when his grip loosens and the curses and groans from him, but mostly the room sounds like a porno. you’re not sure if you came or you ever stopped coming but your pussy feels warm and fuzzy, like it’s just given up on trying to decipher pleasure and pain.

“can’t come-fuck-need to” rafe frustrates himself with how quickly he feels like he needs to come. his balls are pinched tight, aching for release but he can’t stop, he needs to make it right, make it perfect. rafe won’t admit it anyone else but he’s so in love with you he hates coming without looking in your eyes. his hold on your neck releases and you slump forward tears and drool staining the mattress.

“pretty baby, you’ll give me one more yeah?” somehow rafe knows when you’re cumming, you stopped noticing. you nod dumbly, blurry eyes vaguely make out his face as he finally lets you rest on your back. your body aches and your legs haven’t stopped shaking, but you still welcome him with open legs. rafe presses a kiss to your forehead, shoving into you again, his thrusts aren’t so hurried this time, he’s savoring it. the slow drag of his tip inside of you warms you. you stop crying when he lifts your legs, pushing your knees to your chest, he wipes your tears and kisses down into you. the position is familiar, one of your favorites, and you kiss him back, it’s salty and messy but you can taste the words i love you.

“most beautiful girl in the world, fuck ,how did i get so lucky?” he peppers your face with kisses, giggles erupting from your lips and he can’t believe you’re his.

“love you rafey.” you say it so sweetly anyone would think he’s not 9 inches deep inside you, in a mean mating press.

“i love you angel, can i come inside?” your eyes light up, you both rarely do it since birth control is horrible on your body, but you can’t help but love how it feels.

“please…fill me up.” the words make his dick twitch inside you, more precum dribbling out of your cunt.

“fuckkk gonna get you pregnant, then everyone will know you’re mine.” he’s mumbling to himself, rocking back and forth and a whine leaves your lips. you should be concerned with how possessive your boyfriend is, you know that, but the image he paints in your head is too tempting.

“please.” you kiss his right arm that supports his weight next to your head and he smiles down at you. rafe takes it as his signal to pull out and fuck down into you, your mind blanks. it doesn’t take more than a few hard thrusts for the pressure building inside you to finally snap, seeing white under your eyes as you gasp and scream his name. you’re squirting onto him before you realize it, soaking his chest and dick and he keeps fucking you through it until you stop. rafe can’t help but lose himself as you do it, fucking down so brutally you think he might rip your cervix, if it’s even possible, the overstimulation claws at your senses and you fight the urge to push him away, scratching down his back instead. rafe feels his balls pinch and he can’t hold back any longer, you’re pulsing around him riding out your orgasm and he shoots gooey ropes inside of you. thick and never ending, coating your walls and slipping out the sides, the angle at least keeps most of it in, just like he wants it.

“can’t believe you squirted.” when he finally stops spurting into you, he pulls out, your legs falling to your side as you wince at the aches in your body. without the cloud of pleasure you can feel how sore you’ll be tomorrow.

“sorry” you mumble, turning to where he lays beside you and he shakes his head.

“nah baby i’m gonna make you do it every time.” a wolfish smirk graces his features and you decide you’ll never do a sex ban again. you won’t survive it next time.

[00valentina-writes00]

heyy love how abt vi x insecure reader where reader can’t come due to nerves and vi calms the reader down eventually and makes her cum so hard UGHHHH lots of angst too bby plssss

Angxx havxbajzb jahxbsn yes

♡♥︎Soft and Safe♥︎♡

Warnings: reader can’t cum, oral sex (reader receiving), Vi being comforting (I need her.)

Vi is patient. More patient than anyone gives her credit for.

People see her and expect fire—recklessness, heat, a fighter through and through. And she is all of those things. But she’s also something else. Something quieter. Something softer.

And thank God for that, because right now, you need that side of her.

You’re straddling her lap, your bare thighs framing her as she leans back against the headboard. Her hands rest on your waist, steady, grounding. She’s warm beneath you, her body solid, strong, unshaken.

You, however, are trembling.

Not because you don’t want this. You do. You ache for it. For her.

But your body won’t cooperate.

No matter how much you try to lose yourself in her touch, no matter how good she makes you feel, something inside you remains locked up tight, nerves tangled around your ribs like barbed wire. You can feel yourself getting closer—so close you can taste it—but then it vanishes, slipping through your fingers like smoke.

And now, frustration burns in your chest, acid-hot and awful.

Vi notices. Of course she does.

“Hey, hey, baby.” Her voice is soft, but the concern in it is unmistakable. “Breathe for me.”

You suck in a shaky breath, your nails digging into her shoulders as you try to will yourself into relaxing.

It doesn’t work.

“I—I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whisper, voice thick with unshed tears. “I just— I can’t—*”

Vi’s hands tighten on your waist, not hard, just there. Just enough to remind you that you’re not alone. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” she says firmly. “Not a damn thing.”

You shake your head, shame curling tight in your chest. “I just want to make you feel good—”

“You do make me feel good,” Vi interrupts, her voice unwavering. “Every time. Even now.”

You bite your lip, chest tightening. “But I can’t—”

“Shh.” Vi presses her forehead to yours, her breath warm against your lips. “You don’t have to force it. I don’t need you to prove anything, babe.”

A lump rises in your throat. “But you—”

“But nothing.” Her thumbs stroke slow, soothing circles over your hips. “This isn’t a race. We’re not keeping score.”

You exhale shakily, trying to let her words sink in.

She leans back slightly, studying you with those sharp, knowing eyes of hers. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, huh?”

You hesitate, the words catching in your throat. But Vi just waits, patient as ever, her hands never leaving your skin.

Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, you admit, ���I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Vi scoffs. Actually scoffs. “Disappoint me? Baby, the only thing that disappoints me is hearing you say shit like that.”

You manage a weak laugh, but the ache in your chest doesn’t ease. “I just… I feel like I should be able to, you know? I feel like—like something’s wrong with me for not being able to.”

Vi’s expression softens, and she reaches up, cupping your face in both hands. “Nothing is wrong with you,” she murmurs. “Not now. Not ever. You’re safe with me, okay? We’ve got all the time in the world. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart.”

Your throat tightens again, but this time, it’s not from frustration. It’s from the way she’s looking at you—like you’re everything. Like she’d hold you like this forever if you let her.

“Can I take care of you?” Vi asks, voice low, careful, like she’s handling something delicate.

You hesitate, but then you nod.

Vi’s lips brush against yours, barely a kiss, just a promise. Then she shifts, adjusting you gently until your back is against the pillows, her body sliding down the bed until she’s between your thighs.

“Just breathe, baby,” she murmurs, pressing slow kisses to your stomach, your hips, your inner thighs. “I’ve got you.”

And you believe her.

Her hands settle on your thighs, thumbs stroking slow, lazy circles against your skin. She doesn’t rush. Doesn’t push. Just waits, letting you feel every touch, every press of her lips.

By the time she finally kisses the inside of your knee, your muscles have loosened, your breathing deepening.

“That’s it,” Vi murmurs, nuzzling against the sensitive skin of your thigh. “There’s my good girl.”

Heat coils in your stomach, slow and steady this time instead of sharp and anxious. Vi feels it—feels the way your body reacts, the way your hips shift slightly, the way your breath hitches.

She groans softly. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, finally, finally, she leans in and drags her tongue through your folds, slow and deliberate.

Your breath punches out of you, your fingers tangling in her hair.

Vi moans, low and satisfied, and does it again.

This time, there’s no panic. No pressure. Just the warm, wet heat of her mouth, the slow, insistent strokes of her tongue. She doesn’t rush you, doesn’t chase after your pleasure like it’s something to conquer.

She coaxes it from you. Draws it out like a secret only she’s allowed to hear.

And fuck, it feels so good.

Your hips jerk against her, a whimper spilling from your lips. Vi groans into you, gripping your thighs tighter, holding you right where she wants you.

“That’s my girl,” she rasps, voice wrecked and desperate. “Come on, baby. Let me feel it.”

You moan, thighs tightening around her, and—

Oh.

Oh.

The pleasure slams into you like a wave, crashing hard and unrelenting, stealing your breath, your thoughts, your everything. You sob her name, arching, trembling, falling apart completely against her tongue.

Vi doesn’t stop. Not until you’re gasping, twitching, oversensitive.

She finally pulls back, pressing one last kiss against your inner thigh before crawling back up to you.

“There she is,” she murmurs, brushing damp hair from your face. “Knew you could do it, baby.”

You let out a shaky breath, still trembling as she pulls you into her arms.

[bloatedandalone04]

Kiwi

Summary: You’re pregnant with Rafe’s baby, and he’s more stressed out about it than you are (and rightfully so).

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff, swearing, protective rafe, soon to be dad rafe, smut, angst if you squint, unprotected sex, pregnancy.

You were steadily entering your second trimester, which was shaping out to be a little easier than your first. You were still craving the weirdest food combinations, but Rafe would never complain about needing to go out and buy them for you since the grateful smile you always gave him made his heart feel so full. 

Seven years with you, and he was still as crazy about you as he’d been since the first date. 

With that being said, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could pretend to like your weird (and sometimes really fucking gross) pregnancy cravings. But he would have to, since you’re carrying his baby like a fucking champ, and you looked so stunning while doing so. 

Rafe had just gotten back from a grocery store run, sporting a bag full of odd food choices for you, and he set it down on the counter before leaving the kitchen to go find you. 

You were in the living room, your feet planted on the couch as you scrolled through your phone. Why you were standing on the couch, he had no idea, but the thought of you accidentally falling was the first thing that flashed through his head, and he was not about to let that happen. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he rasped, quickly walking over to you and grabbing your waist. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? You’re four months pregnant, babygirl, you need to be careful. Jesus Christ.”

“I am being careful,” you defended yourself, holding your phone in one hand while your other ran through his hair. You looked around the living room, your eyes flickering between every corner as you stayed standing on the couch. “I saw a spider, and I don’t know where it went. And you know how much I hate spiders. I had to make sure it didn’t crawl on me or something. Then I would’ve been the one having a heart attack.”

You sounded so unserious, but Rafe knew you were being completely genuine. Your fear of anything that had more than two legs was no joke, and he couldn’t count the times he’s killed something for you on both hands. 

“Plus, I’ve only been standing here for, like, five minutes,” you added, looking down at him and shrugging casually, as if you didn’t feel the way his grip tightened on you at your words. 

“Five minutes is too fucking long,” Rafe muttered, shaking his head afterwards as he leaned in and pressed his forehead against your belly. “You’re not thinking straight right now, are you? That’s the only logical explanation for this.”

His big hands stayed planted on your waist, keeping you steady as he pulled away and looked up at you, his blue eyes wide and full of nothing but adoration for you and the little life growing inside of you. 

“You’re going to give me gray hairs, you know that right?” he grunted, a smile forming on his lips when you let out a soft laugh. 

“Ooh, silver fox Rafe,” you teased, draping your arms around his neck as he helped you off the couch. “You say that like it’s a bad thing. You’d look so fucking hot with gray hair, baby. Like, so fucking sexy. So don’t tempt me.”

Rafe scoffed, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Silver fox? I’m twenty nine, baby, not forty,” he mumbled, “But, I guess if you like that sorta thing…who am I to judge?”

You laughed, leaning into his touch as you pressed your lips to his jaw. “I like anything that involves you,”

He smiled down at you, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “I like anything that involves you too, babygirl,” he murmured, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “Actually, I love everything that involves you.”

Then he was leaning all the way in and kissing you deeply and slowly, his hands sliding down your body until they grazed your ass, and then he was full on groping you through your leggings. 

You whined against his mouth, your lips pressing more firmly against his as you pulled him impossibly closer to you until your bump was pushing against his abs. “You always have to one up me, don’t you?” you muttered, “And what’s with you always grabbing my ass? You’ve been obsessed with it since we got together.”

Rafe smirked down at you. “Of course I’m obsessed with it, it’s part of you,” he replied, and you pressed your lips together. 

“You are so fucking sweet and sexy and I think we should go to our bedroom before I-” you cut yourself off by screaming directly into your husband’s face as you practically jumped back up onto the couch with wide eyes. 

Rafe didn’t even need to turn around to know that the eight legged creature who scared you before had made its big return. “What did I tell you?” he muttered, taking you into his arms as he lifted you from the couch. 

“Rafe! Stop, it’s literally right there and it’s so fucking big,” you protested as he carried you out of the living room and into the kitchen. Once he had you sitting safely at the breakfast bar, he slid the bag of food over for you to inspect as he grabbed a piece of paper towel. 

“Stay here, okay? Eat something,” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before he walked back into the living room to find the harmless insect that had been tormenting you during the entire time he was gone. 

-

You were pulling Rafe along with you towards the bedroom, your lips all over his neck and jaw, but he was moving so slowly. You were now six months pregnant, and Rafe had become more and more protective of you, if that was even possible at this point. 

And while you loved him for it, his hesitation every time you initiated sex was making you go crazy. You were so turned on, and you needed your husband. 

“Rafe,” you moaned, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you walked backwards. “I need you. I need you so bad. Please? I promise, I won’t break.” you whined, nearly stumbling as you pulled him along with you. 

Rafe’s hands instantly tightened on your waist, his thumbs brushing along the underside of your belly as it pressed against his abs through his shirt. “Easy, babygirl,” he cooed, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” 

While you knew he wanted to be gentle and sweet with you, you also knew exactly how to rile him up and get him going. Rafe had been obsessed with your body since the second he first saw you completely bare, and his obsession had only intensified once your body began to change due to your pregnancy. 

You stepped back and pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your breasts that had grown so much, they were nearly spilling out of your bra. You watched Rafe bite his lip before you moved onto your leggings, and you stepped out of them and kicked them aside as well. 

Rafe groaned as he pulled off his own shirt and jeans, his hands finding your waist again as he moved to sit on the bed. “Come here,” he murmured, sliding your panties down your legs before he guided you onto his lap. 

You willingly went, a needy whine leaving your lips as you settled on top of him and pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard cock. “I love you,” you moaned, kissing him as you began to rub yourself along his dick. “I love you so much.”

He gripped your hips, guiding the slow rolls of your body. “I love you too, baby,” he groaned, “More than my next fucking breath.”

His words made your head feel all fuzzy, and he lifted you slightly to position himself at your soaked core. When he eased you back down onto his cock, you both let out a sound of relief as you came together as one, and you reveled in the feeling of his big hands on your body. 

“Fucking perfect,” he praised, his eyes hooded as his hands slid around to grip your ass gently.

You moaned loudly, holding onto his shoulders as you rolled your hips against his as best as you could with your bump persistently brushing against his stomach. “Fuck,” you whimpered, arching your back a bit and making your chest press right up against his. “Oh fuck, Rafe, you feel so good.” 

He felt so good, you were powerless to stop the loud moans from leaving your mouth as you rode him. Rafe’s hands slid up your back and fumbled with the clasp of your bra before he pulled the fabric away from your body, his palms immediately roaming over the newly exposed skin. “Fuck, babygirl, you’re so tight and wet for me. Sweet pussy was made for my cock,” he grunted, rolling your nipples between his fingers until they pebbled under his touch. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Then he was leaning in and kissing you deeply, his tongue brushing against yours as he met your bounces with upward thrusts of his hips. You moaned against his mouth, his words making your body heat up in a blush. You’d never get tired of hearing him say things like that. 

His hands moved to your belly, and he caressed it as he broke the kiss and buried his face against your shoulder. “God, you feel so good,” he moaned, making your blush deepen as you moved a little faster and a bit harder.

“Rafe,” you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair as you felt your thighs start to burn from over-exertion. “Oh, fuck…I’m gonna cum.” you warned, feeling the knot that had been steadily building up inside you start to tighten. 

Rafe grunted, reaching in between your bodies until the heel of his hand was pressed firmly against the underside of your belly and his fingers were brushing against your clit. “Yeah, cum for me, baby,” he murmured, his other hand moving to your hip as he guided you to take him a little harder. “I’m close too.”

His fingers pushed you over the edge, and your head fell forward onto his shoulder as you came for him. A cry left your lips as you weakly bounced on his lap, your legs shaking a bit as you pulled on his hair. “Fuck,” you gasped, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders as you felt him thrust a few more times before he stilled.

A deep groan left the back of his throat as he held you close to him, his warmth filling you up from the inside out as he let out harsh pants against the side of your neck. “I’ll never get over that,” he muttered, placing soft kisses along your shoulder as he ran his hands up and down your back. “I’ll never get over you.”

You grinned as he gently eased you off him and moved back on the bed, taking you with him as he leaned back against the pillows. “Good,” you hummed as he turned you around and spooned you from behind. “Because I think you’re stuck with me for life.”

When you guided his big palm to rest on your belly, Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your head as his thumb rubbed along your swollen skin. “Good,” he echoed. “Because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried. You’re all I want in the world.”

A lazy smile formed on your lips as you snuggled back against him, and only a few seconds later, you had fallen asleep.

-

Not me working on my birthday again...thanks for reading x

[siriuslylantsov]

be my valentine

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer asks you out after a hearty but incomplete info dump on the history of valentines day.

tags: fluff! idiots inlove, gn!reader, reader is briefly described as shorter than spencer, teasing!spencer, grumpy!reader, penelope is an angel and i love her so much, reader shitting on valentines day and raising some very valid points.

a/n: based on this request, second fic for the event!! i know its still four days till valentines day but! if i didnt get this done now it would've been late. i rewrote this THREE times... but i rlly like how this version came out! happy reading :)

wc: 2.1k

it's your lunch break and you’re glaring at yet another sappy couple that walks by you. grumbling, you take another bite of your blueberry muffin. spencer laughs from his seat in front of you, amused by how your lip curls into an irritated pout. the two of you had walked to a cafe, a brief reprieve away from the frenzied police department you were stationed at for this week's case. 

“motherfuckers,” you seethe, still chewing your food. “i hate valentine's day.”

he laughs again, his tone sarcastic, “really, i never would’ve guessed.”

your glare shifts to him as you cross your arms. his grin is still there, annoyingly persistent, you hate that it doesn't affect him as much as it should. if you told him this, he would’ve told you that it didn't pack much of a punch. 

you roll your eyes and continue with a heavy scoff, “it's just another fake holiday, you know. like mother's day. created by greeting card companies trying to commercialise a day that shouldn't even exist honestly. every day should be dedicated to showing your loved ones how much you care, not just 24 hours in the middle of february.”

he accepts your cynicism with a smirk, completely accustomed to it. he knows you don’t mean it, not entirely, you just like to rant. “you know valentines day actually goes back about 2000 years. i’m sure greeting card companies weren't around back then,” he corrects, biting his lip in suppression.

your eyes narrow into slits, feeling the faint shift in the air of an incoming info dump. you ignore the way you want to hear what he has to say and take a sip of your coffee instead. you stall to torture him a bit, it's funny how he squirms.

“really,” you drag out, stroking your chin in exaggerated contemplation. you stare at him knowingly, he wants to continue but he's waiting for you to give him the green light. you laugh quietly, mood already improved, “go on.”

spencer visibly brightens, sitting up straighter and hands springing into action. “well, valentine's day has a really fascinating and somewhat convoluted history,” he starts, almost giddily. “the earliest accepted theory can be traced back to the roman festival of lupercalia, which was celebrated from february 13th to 15th. it was a fertility festival dedicated to faunus, the roman god of agriculture, and it included a ritual where men would sacrifice a goat and a dog, then use strips of the goat’s hide to whip women-”

“wait, they used goat skin to whip women?” you interject, eyes widening incredulously.

“yes! they willingly lined up for it too, believing it would make them more fertile,” he explains, far too animated considering the context, but it's okay. you like his enthusiasm. 

you grimace, “weird.”

“right. however, the day of love that we now recognise was brought by st. valentine, though which valentine is unclear—there were at least three martyred saints by that name. the most famous story involves a priest in third-century rome who defied emperor claudius ii's orders by secretly performing marriages for young soldiers,” he pauses to take a breath. you use it to bring your coffee back up to your lips, hiding your smile.

“claudius believed single men made better warriors, so he banned them from marrying,” he clarifies to which you nod. “when valentine was caught, he was executed on february 14th, which is why he’s the namesake of the holiday. some versions of the story even say that he sent a letter to his jailer's daughter signed ‘from your valentine’ which could be the origin of the modern tradition.”

“huh,” you pick your lip in thought, spencer hides the way his eyes dart down to them as you do it. “but that’s still an execution, how did it-”

the shrill tone of your ringtone interrupts you. “mhm, okay,” you respond when you pick up the phone. “we’ll be right there.” 

spencer stares at you expectantly, reaching over to grab your bag. he secures it over his shoulder and stands up. 

“it was jj,” you explain, stuffing the last bits of muffin into your mouth. “wi’ness ‘howed up.”

the food-muffled words make him chuckle and hold out a hand for you to get up. you let him pull you up with a dramatic huff, still holding his hand as you dust crumbs from your lap. you realise it a little too late and let go with a start, frown returning when you realise he isn’t going to let you carry your bag.

the walk back only took about five minutes before but this time's slower pace makes it a longer ordeal. comfortable silence brackets the two of you until it doesn’t when spencer speaks up.

“so, there's actually a lot more to the history of valentine's day. for instance, how the day became one of romance instead of, as you said, one that marked a martyrdom. we could, i don't know, discuss this properly over dinner. or drinks? or ice cream, i know that you like ice cream-”

filler words... he’s nervous. amid his rambling, he doesn't realise that you’ve stopped in your tracks. 

“-we can do whatever you want, i don't mind.” when he looks beside him and doesn't find you, he turns around. he can scarcely read the expression on your face, he usually can. this causes a little bout of concern to bubble up, “what is it?”

“are you asking me out?” your question is immediate, blunt, as a confused crease forms between your eyebrows.

well shit, he was. his lips part as he processes what he just said, he looks a little like a deer in headlights the way he stares back at you. was that too much? are you mad? did you want him to ask you out? what if you say no? he should say something. what if he messes everything up? he can’t-

“spencer,” his name rings out softly, pulling him from his spiral. 

his eyes snap to yours, searching, desperate to read between the lines, to piece together what you’re thinking like he always does—except this time, he can’t. he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, “yes.”

he swallows hard and adds, “on a date.”

“i got that,” you murmur, stepping closer to him, and closing the distance that he unintentionally left.

his head dips, voice small. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

your head tilts slightly, studying him. “you didn’t.”

the reassurance eases him a little but not enough as the anxiety claws at him while he waits for your answer. your phone sounds again from your pocket, this time a text from morgan. you quickly type out a response–got lost, be there in 2. it's a pathetic excuse, if you focused, the station was in your direct eye line. but you needed to say something. 

“okay.”

he can't help the sign of relief that slips out of him, you giggle at the sound. when he looks at you again, he's unmeasurably happy to see your poorly concealed smile, breaking out in his own matching one. 

“yeah?” he asks sheepishly.

you nod, chewing your bottom lip, “yeah.”

your eyes squint at the corners, a side effect of the same grin that those sappy couples had been sporting, the same one that you’d been complaining about a little while ago. it makes you want to kick yourself, so you do the next best thing. you take hold of spencer's hand and drag yourself back to the pd. spencer shuffles somewhat behind you, trying to keep up with your stride. it doesn't take him long with those long legs of his.

his thumb strokes your knuckles gently–deliberately, you feel–but he pretends it's an unconscious action with the way his eyes are trained ahead. it makes you roll your eyes. when you near, you reluctantly let go of each other, the moment being the last time the two of you are alone for the rest of the day.

-

the team ends up solving the case a few hours later, taking the jet home where a valentines day baking spread is set up in the briefing room. all set up by the resident tech savvy. penelope tells you later that it took a whole week of convincing on her part, insisting that it would be quick and she’d clean up, and that everyone would get home to their own valentine's day plans in no time. 

there are a few heart-shaped helium balloons floating in the corners, and pink streamers in easy to reach places. the room is drastically more inviting, maybe the tones of fuschia and bubblegum have something to do with that. a cake and a bowl of suspiciously dyed punch reside on the table, along with pink plates and cups.

“penelope,” you gasp when you see them.

perfectly curated baskets of chocolate and cookies and associated items for everyone. you pick up the one with your name on it and inside you find: a candle, your favourite candy tied together with a little bow and a letter signed ‘happy valentines day, sweetheart. love, penny xx’. 

oh my god, you could kiss her. 

“it's like christmas,” emily muses from the other end of the table. you hear jj mutter something in agreement. you peek over at spencer, it's probably the hundredth time that you've snuck a glance his way. his eyes were already on you every other time, only now they were accompanied by a pair of red heart-shaped glasses, the clear plastic lenses offering a perfect view of his hazel orbs. the picture makes you laugh to yourself, you can barely hear it echoing from his end. 

-

about 30 minutes later, only the stragglers are left. in better words, the single people. the individuals with partners having rushed off to their own respective plans. you're making small talk with another girl who worked around the office when you feel a light hand on your shoulder, spencer nodding his head toward the elevator to signal your leave. you politely wish her goodbye and walk out with him. 

“cute glasses,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours, though the height difference makes it so you're nudging his upper arm. 

“yeah? i might get the lenses medicated, switch them out for my regular ones,” he jokes, his elbow nudging yours gently as he pushes the bridge of the glasses up the slope of his nose instinctively. 

“good idea,” you nod.

“you think?”

“mhm.” 

once again, he beats you to your bag, swiping it from your chair and carrying it along with his own. you meekly toy with the hem of your shirt as the two of you walk to the elevator. 

“so, bummer that neither of us have plans today. it’s so early,” you say, being blatantly obvious with what you're suggesting.

spencer only offers you an indifferent “yeah, bummer” in response, walking in when the doors slide open. when you look at him though, he's anything but indifferent, the corner of his lip pulling up in a crooked smile, irritatingly smug. you don't know where he gets off on being so at ease but the expression on his face makes you scowl as you follow him in. 

he is silent the whole ride down. you become increasingly annoyed, only faltering slightly when his hand reaches down to hold yours. his fingers thread between yours and you not-so subtly curl yours over his, ignoring the way he looks down at you. 

you try not to smile at the domestic picture of the two of you walking out hand in hand. thankfully the basement is empty. he pauses between your cars and mutters a quick “see you monday” before loosening his fingers and turning to walk away.

“spencer,” you groan, almost a whine as you squeeze his hand before he can let go.

he responds immediately, without missing a beat, “yes, angel.”

fuck.

you want to melt but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “would you like to do something tonight?” you grit out begrudgingly.

“i would love to,” he agrees, pulling you closer with your hand. your gaze darts to the two bag straps on his shoulder and you realise he had no intention of letting you go just like that. so you shove him, a little hard that he stumbles a bit. he huffs a laugh and you shake your head dismissively. 

he slowly, tentatively, dips down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

“how does thai food sound?” he asks, that same bashfulness creeping into his voice that you love so dearly. 

“sounds perfect.”

you share another sweet smile that would probably make you gag from an outside perspective but now it just makes you feel dizzy. he leads you back to his car, muttering something about how he’ll pick yours up tomorrow morning. you want to argue with him but that same dizzy feeling stops you.

you can't help the dreamy sigh that slips out when he connects your hands again over the centre console. thank god for st. valentine, you think.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

divider from @saradika-graphics

[hoshifighting]

Olá Lyla Recently i saw a tweet saying that for us girls when reaching the climax the best is to take deep breathes instead of tensing up and then i saw someone say that the best thing that a man has ever told her was "breathe baby..." so... how would experienced seventeen members "teach" you this while in naughty time???? love you girllll <3

seventeen asking you to breath before an orgasm

A/N: hello my luv!! ❤️🧚🏼‍♀️ it may sound a bit repetitive, but i tried my best to give each one a nuance! 👍 AND YES!!! this is the sexiest thing a man can do, only after being being loyal 😩

seungcheol: "baby, slow down. breathe with me." voice so soft, but his grip on your hips is firm, making sure you stay in rhythm with him. he watches you, eyes dark, waiting for you to listen. when you finally let out that shaky exhale, body melting just the way he needs, he grins "yeah, that’s it. just like that." he’ll keep guiding you through it.

jeonghan: "shhh, there you go, breathe, my love." he smirks at first when he notices you tensing, then he’s softening, his thumb brushing over your lips, coaxing them open. "breathe for me, sweetheart." he hums in satisfaction, kissing the breath right from your lips like a reward. he’s soooooo patient.

joshua: "baby, take a deeeeep breath. i got you." he’s soooooo reassuring, holding you close, rocking into you at a pace that forces you to feel everything. "don’t rush it, just breathe." and when you finally do, when your body stops fighting the pleasure, he leans in, whispering, "that’s my good girl."

junhui: "you’re holding your breath, baby. relax, yeah?" he notices immediately, and his hands are everywhere, smoothing over your body, making sure you feel him, not just the overwhelming build-up. "trust me, just let go." and when you finally exhale, he smirks, feeling the way you melt beneath him. "mm, there she is."

hoshi: "breathe, baby. just feel me." the second he feels you start to lock up, his hands tighten on your thighs, keeping you wiiiide open for him. "don’t fight it, just breathe."

wonwoo: "baby, you’re shaking. slow breaths, okay?" he’s so gentle about it, barely pulling back to look at you, his hands guiding you through the pace he knows you need. " just relax, love." and when you finally exhale, unclenching, letting yourself have it, he murmurs, "there you go, that’s my girl."

woozi: "deep breaths, baby. i know it’s a lot." he’s actually teasing you tho!! but his voice is cooing and warm. he can feel the way you’re holding back, so he leans in "don’t hold out on me. just breathe, let me take care of you".

minghao: "no, no, baby, don’t run from it. just breathe." his hands LOCK you in place, not letting you escape what he’s giving you. his voice is so confident, like he knows what’s best for you. and when you finally obey, letting the pleasure fully wash over you, he smiles lazyly, satisfied. "good girl."

mingyu: "breathe, sweetheart, i got you." sweet, but there’s an edge to it, a knowing grin as he watches you struggle to keep up. he knows it’s too much, knows you’re about to cum, but he holds you steady, whispering soft reassurances until you finally let go.

seokmin: "don’t be shy, baby. deep breaths, you’re doing so good." he’s so tender, so encouraging, his kisses never stopping as he guides you through it. "told you it’d feel even better."

seungkwan: "you’re holding your breath again, love. breathe with me." he actually demonstrates, exaggerating a deep inhale, waiting for you to copy him. and when you do, when your body responds exactly how he knew it would, he groans, dropping his head to your shoulder. "fuck, that’s it."

vernon: "babe, don’t fight it. just breathe." he actually grounds you. his lips find yours, his hands roaming, making sure you feel safe, feel wanted. when you finally let yourself sink into it, he smirks, whispering, "knew you’d feel even better if you listened."

chan: "deep breaths, baby. lemme take care of you." his grip tightens just slightly, his pace slowing, forcing you to actually feel each thrust. he kisses you through it, holding you as you finally cum. "see? you just needed to relax."

[jungwnies]

F1 Grid | valentines day

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerlc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested or not) : spending valentines day with your f1-boyfriend

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : slight suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 3927

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : happy valentines day to everyone! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you weren’t expecting much for valentine’s day. it wasn’t that max didn’t love you—he absolutely did—but he wasn’t exactly the grand romantic gesture type. if anything, you were prepared for the day to come and go without so much as a mention.

that is, until christian horner made an offhand comment about how he was taking geri out for a fancy dinner.

“wait, valentine’s day is today?” max blurted, nearly dropping his red bull can.

lando, sitting beside him, snorted. “oh, mate—you’re so screwed.”

max bolted from his seat, leaving his engineer mid-sentence, and disappeared before anyone could even process what had happened.

you were home, lounging in one of max’s oversized hoodies, when your phone started buzzing with frantic texts from him.

max: are you home? max: never mind, you are. stay there. max: actually, don’t move. i’m coming.

you barely had time to process his sudden urgency before you heard the sound of his car pulling into the driveway at breakneck speed. moments later, he burst through the door, slightly out of breath, hair a little messy, and holding… a grocery store bouquet and a bag from a bakery down the street.

“hey,” he panted, trying to act casual but failing miserably. “happy valentine’s day.”

your eyes flicked to the half-crushed bouquet in his grip and then to the bag, which he handled like it contained the secret to world peace.

“did you forget?” you asked, crossing your arms but already grinning.

“no,” he lied. then, with a sigh, “okay, yes, but only because no one told me.”

you giggled, taking the slightly squished flowers from him. “max, the world has been advertising valentine’s day for weeks.”

“yeah, well, i don’t look at pink and red decorations and think oh, i should do something romantic,” he huffed. “but i fixed it, right?”

you peered into the bakery bag, pulling out a heart-shaped pastry, and smiled. “did you at least try it before buying?”

his face turned sheepish. “i got two. ate one on the way home.”

laughing, you tugged him down onto the couch beside you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “it’s perfect, max. i don’t need anything fancy—just you.”

his shoulders relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“… good. because i really did panic-buy the flowers,” he admitted, making you burst out laughing.

he may have been chaotic, but he was your chaos, and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

from the moment february began, you knew lewis had something planned.

it started when he casually asked you one night, his voice soft but certain, "will you be my valentine?" as if you could possibly say no.

you laughed, setting your book aside. "you're asking me like we haven't been together for years."

"i know," he grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "but you deserve to be asked properly."

and that was just the beginning.

by the time valentine's day arrived, you barely had to lift a finger.

when you woke up, there was a carefully wrapped box sitting on the edge of the bed, a note resting on top in lewis's elegant handwriting:

"good morning, my love. no need to stress about today. i have taken care of everything. wear this and be ready by seven. i will handle the rest. can't wait to see you. always yours, lewis."

you unfolded the tissue paper inside and found an outfit. the outfit. something effortlessly elegant, tailored to your style but with a touch of his own influence. he knew what would make you feel confident, comfortable, and beautiful.

a warmth bloomed in your chest. he had thought of everything.

when seven o'clock arrived, you stepped out of your room and found lewis waiting, looking devastatingly handsome in a custom suit. his eyes swept over you, appreciation lighting them up instantly.

"you look stunning," he murmured, stepping forward to take your hand.

"you picked it," you teased.

"doesn't make it any less true." he brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss there. "ready?"

"always."

the evening was a dream.

lewis had planned a private dinner at a breathtaking rooftop restaurant, candles flickering around you, soft jazz playing in the background. the menu had been curated just for you. your favorite dishes, a wine he knew you loved, even a dessert he had requested specifically because you once mentioned craving it months ago.

it was not just the grandeur of it all. it was him. the way he leaned in when you spoke, completely present. the way he reached across the table, tracing absentminded circles on the back of your hand. the way his eyes never left you, like he was still in awe after all this time.

"you really went all out, didn't you?" you mused, watching as he poured you another glass of wine.

lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "you deserve it. i wanted today to be perfect for you."

you smiled, heart full. "it already was the moment i woke up."

his fingers intertwined with yours, a soft look in his eyes. "i love you, you know."

"i know." you squeezed his hand. "i love you too, lewis."

and as the night carried on, filled with love, laughter, and little stolen kisses, you knew that no matter how much effort he put into the plans, what truly made the night special was simply him.

ʚ・george russell

george had been unusually secretive the past week.

nothing drastic, just little things. hushed phone calls, a knowing smirk when you asked about plans, and the way he would randomly glance at you with a quiet excitement in his eyes.

"you will see," was all he ever said.

and you did.

on valentine's day, just as the sky began to shift into soft hues of pink and orange, george pulled up to a secluded beach with a playful grin on his face.

"i thought we could do something different," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand before hopping out of the car.

your eyes drifted over the shoreline, the gentle waves rolling in, and the salty breeze kissing your skin. there was no extravagant setup, no overwhelming display. just the sound of the ocean, the warmth of the setting sun, and george beside you, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

"you planned this?" you asked, smiling as he grabbed a picnic basket from the backseat.

"of course," he said proudly. "i wanted something simple, just us. no distractions, no cameras, no fancy restaurants. just this."

your heart swelled as he led you to a cozy spot where he had set up a blanket in the sand, the basket filled with your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine.

as you sat together, watching the waves roll in, george draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "i know it is not much, but i wanted today to be about you and me, not some over-the-top production."

you looked up at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "it is perfect, george."

his lips curved into a soft smile before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "good. because there is nowhere else i would rather be than here with you."

the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the distant sound of the waves lulling you into a peaceful state. at one point, george pulled out his phone and played a song quietly through the speaker, a mellow tune that matched the peaceful ambiance of the beach.

"dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.

you let out a small laugh. "there is no music loud enough to dance to."

"we do not need loud music," he said, pulling you up anyway. "just trust me."

and so you did.

you swayed together under the dimming sky, bare feet sinking into the cool sand, his arms wrapped securely around you. it was simple. it was intimate. it was everything you never knew you needed.

as the last bit of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, george whispered, "happy valentine's day, love."

resting your head against his chest, you smiled. "happy valentine's day, george."

and in that moment, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was love in its purest form.

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos had always been charming. but tonight, he was on another level.

from the moment he picked you up, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that made him look impossibly handsome, you knew he had something special planned. his smirk was dangerous, the kind that sent warmth through your entire body.

“you look stunning, mi amor,” he murmured, leaning in just a little too close as his lips brushed your cheek. his cologne lingered, warm and intoxicating. “i almost want to skip dinner and keep you all to myself.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. “behave.”

“i make no promises,” he teased, leading you to the car.

the restaurant was one of your favorites, a cozy yet elegant spot that carlos had somehow managed to book despite its usual months-long waiting list.

the moment you were seated, he reached across the table, fingers brushing over yours as he gazed at you with that signature, lazy smirk. “i think i am already full just looking at you.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “that was terrible.”

“but did it work?” he asked, lifting your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it slowly, deliberately.

your skin tingled. “maybe a little.”

he grinned. “good.”

throughout dinner, he was extra attentive, making sure you had everything you wanted. his knee brushed against yours under the table, his voice dipped lower whenever he leaned in to whisper something just for you, and his fingers traced light patterns along your wrist whenever he held your hand.

at one point, he tilted his head, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he murmured, his voice soft but deep. “i just love watching you when you are happy.”

your heart fluttered. “carlos.”

his smirk returned. “what? it is true.” he took a slow sip of his wine, eyes never leaving yours. “besides, i like to remind you how completely, hopelessly in love with you i am.”

your stomach flipped. “you are really pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?”

he leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “only because i know what it does to you.”

your breath hitched. “you are unbelievable.”

he smirked, fingers brushing over yours again. “and yet, you love me anyway.”

you sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but there was no denying the warmth spreading through your chest. “unfortunately.”

carlos chuckled, shaking his head. “i think you mean luckily.”

you looked at him, taking in the way his dark eyes burned with something deeper than just playful flirtation. beneath the teasing, beneath the smooth confidence, there was love. real, undeniable love.

and it was all for you.

as dinner came to an end, he reached for your hand again, tracing slow circles against your palm. “do you want dessert?”

you tilted your head. “are you actually talking about dessert, or is this another one of your lines?”

his lips twitched. “would you be disappointed if it was?”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “no.”

his fingers laced with yours as he brought your hand to his lips once more, voice low and full of promise.

“good.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles had monaco at his fingertips. it was beautiful, luxurious, and full of charm, just like him. but when valentine’s day approached, he surprised you with something unexpected.

“we are going to paris,” he had said casually over breakfast, sipping his coffee like he had not just dropped the most romantic idea possible.

your eyes widened. “paris? you live in monaco, one of the most beautiful places in the world, and you’re taking me to paris?”

he smirked, setting his cup down before leaning in. “everyone knows paris is for lovers, mon amour. and i want to spoil you properly.”

and he did.

the moment you landed, you felt the shift.

paris had its own kind of magic, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. the air smelled of fresh bread and soft rain, the streets alive with quiet charm. charles took your hand effortlessly, like he was meant to hold it, leading you through the city as if he had been born to love it, just as he had been born to love you.

the morning was slow and sweet, starting with a walk along the seine. he held your hand the entire time, stopping occasionally just to press a kiss to your temple, or to murmur something in french that he knew would make you blush.

“say something else,” you teased, smiling up at him.

he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “tu es la plus belle chose que j’ai jamais vue.”

you shivered at the way his voice dropped, the way his breath was warm against your skin. “and what does that mean?”

he smirked, tugging you just a little closer. “it means you are the most beautiful thing i have ever seen.”

your heart flipped in your chest. “you are too good at this.”

“i am only good at this because it is you.”

he spent the afternoon showing you his favorite hidden spots. a small café tucked away from the crowds, where he ordered for you effortlessly in french, his accent rolling off his tongue like silk. a bookshop near the notre-dame, where he traced his fingers over the spines of old novels, claiming he was looking for something special to remember this trip by.

“i do not need souvenirs,” he said, slipping his arm around your waist. “you are the only thing i want to remember.”

by the time evening arrived, he had one final surprise.

he took you to the eiffel tower just as the sun was setting, the sky painted in soft pinks and golds. as the lights flickered to life, he turned to you, his hands resting firmly on your waist.

“beautiful,” he murmured.

“the view?” you teased, even though you already knew the answer.

he shook his head slowly. “you.”

your breath caught in your throat as he reached for you, his lips finding yours in a slow, lingering kiss. there was no rush, no urgency. just the feeling of being completely and utterly his, surrounded by the city of love, under the lights of paris.

his hands slid to the small of your back, fingers tracing lazy circles as he deepened the kiss. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, “you taste sweeter than any wine.”

your cheeks warmed, but before you could reply, he kissed you again, this time with just a hint of teasing, just enough to make your heart race.

by the time you arrived at the hotel, paris had already left you breathless.

the suite was stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city, warm candlelight flickering against the walls, and soft rose petals scattered across the bed.

you turned to charles, who was watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. “you really thought of everything.”

his smirk was slow, deliberate. “i always do.”

you stepped closer, hands resting against his chest. “why paris?” you asked, voice soft.

his hands found your waist easily, like he had been waiting for this moment all night. “because it is the most romantic city in the world.” his voice dropped slightly, eyes darkening as he pulled you even closer. “and because i wanted to make sure you never forget tonight.”

your pulse quickened as his fingers traced slow patterns along your lower back, his lips brushing just below your ear.

“i have given you paris,” he murmured, voice warm and deep. “now, i only want to give you me.”

his lips ghosted over your skin, teasing, lingering, waiting.

the night was still young.

ʚ・lando norris

you were this close to losing it.

sitting on your couch, phone in hand, you stared at the screen, thumb hovering over lando’s contact. it was nearly eight in the evening on valentine’s day, and there had been no text, no call, no nothing.

no “happy valentine’s, love.” no “can’t wait to see you.” not even a dumb meme.

you waited all day, giving him the benefit of the doubt. maybe he was busy. maybe he had something planned. maybe he forgot.

your blood simmered at that last thought. oh, if he forgot…

you hit the call button, heart pounding as it rang. once. twice. straight to voicemail.

“oh, hell no.”

you stood up, pacing the living room, preparing the argument in your head. you would start off calm. hey, babe, just wondering if you forgot a certain very important day? then you’d get passive-aggressive. wow, imagine forgetting your girlfriend exists. and if he dared to laugh, you would go full dramatic mode. maybe i should date someone who actually remembers i exist. maybe oscar piastri wouldn’t forget.

but before you could dial again, the doorbell rang.

you blinked, still mid-rant in your head. slowly, you walked over, swinging the door open, fully prepared to go off—

and there he was.

lando stood on your doorstep, slightly out of breath, holding entirely too many things at once. a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a bag of takeout from your favorite restaurant, a small wrapped box, and a guilty, breathless grin on his face.

"hi," he said sheepishly, eyes twinkling.

you crossed your arms, biting back a smile. "you forgot, didn’t you?"

his jaw dropped in mock offense. "never!"

you gave him a pointed look. "then why do you look like you just ran a marathon?"

"because someone’s favorite restaurant takes forever to prepare food," he said, stepping inside as you moved aside. he held up the takeout bag like a trophy. "i have been standing in line for an hour. an hour, babe. do you know how many people are out there trying to get last-minute valentine's dinners? it’s war out there."

you snorted, shaking your head. "you could’ve at least texted me, lando. i was this close to picking a fight with you."

"believe me, i know," he muttered, placing everything down on the table. "i saw the missed call and almost died because i knew you were about to go nuclear on me."

you rolled your eyes as he unwrapped the takeout, the smell filling the room instantly. he grinned at your reaction, knowing full well how much you loved it.

"see?" he said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. "you thought i forgot, but really, i was just out here being the best boyfriend ever."

you raised an eyebrow. "you sure about that?"

he smirked. "mostly."

you shook your head, but when he grabbed a flower from the bouquet and tucked it gently behind your ear, your heart melted just a little.

"you do look really cute when you're mad, though," he added, grinning.

"lando," you warned, but he just laughed, pulling you onto the couch with him.

as you both started eating, he kept sneaking little bites of your food, dodging your half-hearted swats, grinning every time he managed to steal some.

"you're literally eating the same thing," you huffed.

"yeah, but yours tastes better."

"you are insufferable."

"and yet, here you are," he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. "still mad at me?"

you sighed dramatically, resting your head against him. "i mean… i was really looking forward to yelling at you."

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i know. next time, i’ll text you, my bad."

"next time?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

he winked. "next time i make you think i forgot."

you gasped, smacking his arm as he burst into laughter, dodging you like an overgrown child.

eventually, you both settled down, tangled together on the couch, sharing food, jokes, and soft kisses in between.

and despite all your earlier frustration, you realized you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

ʚ・oscar piastri

valentine’s day was meant to be easy this year.

no over-the-top plans, no rushing to a fancy restaurant, no stress about whether a reservation would fall through. just you and oscar, a quiet night in, and the simple comfort of being together.

you had both agreed on it weeks ago, sitting in bed one night when he casually asked, “so, what do you wanna do for valentine’s?”

you had shrugged, leaning against him. “something simple. movies, dinner at home, just us.”

his response had been instant. “perfect.”

and now, as you stood in the kitchen, stirring the sauce for dinner while music played softly in the background, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

oscar walked in, freshly showered, his hair still damp as he leaned against the counter, watching you with a lazy smile.

“you need help?” he asked, even though you both knew the answer.

“you just want an excuse to mess around,” you teased, throwing him a knowing glance.

he gasped in mock offense. “i would never.”

raising an eyebrow, you pointed at him with the spoon. “like last time, when you ‘helped’ by stealing half the ingredients and eating them before they even made it into the dish?”

he grinned unapologetically. “that was a tactical decision.”

laughing, you turned back to the stove, stirring the sauce as he moved behind you, arms sneaking around your waist. he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching over you like he was actually involved in the process.

“this is nice,” he murmured.

you smiled, leaning back against him. “told you. low-key is the way to go.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before pulling away. “alright, chef, what do i do?”

you handed him a cutting board with some vegetables to chop. “here. real help this time.”

he got to work, surprisingly efficient, only occasionally making faces at the onions like they had personally offended him.

by the time dinner was ready, the two of you set up in the living room, plates in hand, a blanket tossed lazily over your legs. the movie had barely started when you noticed oscar already halfway through his meal, focused but relaxed, like he was completely at home in this moment.

and, really, he was.

the two of you were tangled together on the couch, comfortable in the quiet moments, sneaking bites from each other’s plates, sharing knowing glances when something ridiculous happened in the movie.

at one point, he nudged you. “are you actually watching, or are you just staring at me?”

you smirked, setting your plate down. “maybe both.”

he huffed a laugh, shifting to face you fully. “well, if you’re gonna stare, at least make yourself useful.”

before you could ask what he meant, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips softly against yours. it was slow, unrushed, just like the night itself.

his hand found its way to your cheek, thumb tracing light patterns as he pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“happy valentine’s,” he whispered.

you smiled, brushing your nose against his. “happy valentine’s, oscar.”

he sighed contently, pulling you even closer as the movie played on, forgotten.

and in that moment, you realized that you didn’t need fancy dates or extravagant gestures.

because home wasn’t a place.

it was him.

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[cute-little-fly]

Fuck, I relate so much to this it hurts, but seeing other people have this same experiences makes me feel not so alone on this. I realized I have never told my story so I will use this post to do it.

This is how I felt most of my school and high school years, except for a few friends that I managed to do until sixth grade of school and high school. So, in my case I have had friends, I have known what reciprocated friendship is like and that helped me so much. But I have also felt that sensation of being apart from everyone else by an invisible veil. Is very sad. I would really wish that we could be able to have better education as a society.

Even with all its problems for me school was better than high school. I managed to drag some people on my special interests like ants and insects. We fed them in school and got in trouble. I also managed to make everyone in school have a tamagotchi because I was obsessed with them. They sold them very cheap in the corner store near school. But I had to suffer so much before that, and even after that I struggled to maintain and have friends and still I felt appart sometimes. A lot of students came to my school only one year because their school flooded, then, they went away and I was alone again.

I remember I had this one friend in kinder garden whom I clung as if my life depended on it. Then, on first grade she told me she wanted to have more friends, to go and run and play and that basically she probably didn’t enjoy to spend time with me. I let her go, because she wasn’t forced to be with me all the time and I didn’t played like the other kids and I understood that. But I felt so broken. Even after that I expected that one day she would come back and I tried to. I had some friends during that time, short lived, only one was very close that was the queer guy everyone else bullied. I pretended to be his “girlfriend” sometimes, but we were really friends. Then he was put in other section so we could barely see each other and we started to have other friends, but still we kept in some touch and I didn’t felt the same trauma and rejection than with my other friend.

Then, in sixth grade of school I found my real and first girls friend group, they were all new girls that came from other schools for different life situations. They were trying to make me forget about thar friend (we never kept contact but for years, I still tried to befriend her again and again) until that moment I knew that she didn’t deserved me. My self steem was so low and I still clung to her so badly even if she barely talked to me, and I didn’t cared that she didn’t cared how I felt. My new friends made me see that, so I ended being loyal to them because they were the ones that actually cared for me and accepted me completely. They were the ones that supported me with my ants and tamagotchi. I think that was the best year of my childhood.

High school was ok I guess. At least I knew by that time that trying to be someone I wasn’t was not going to work, and that I could wait until I found my people. So I went alone to the high school library every day to read and play board games alone. I had some friend groups before them but didn’t worked, and they told me that I couldn’t hang up with them anymore. Just because I didn’t wanted to do some performance in class. Then, I met my new friends group there, in the next year, at the library. They were from another year, so I could only see them in breaks and after classes. But, it was ok, better than being alone 100% of the time.

I don’t use this blog for much personal stuff, but here I talk about autism sometimes so I figured that from my other blogs here is where it fits most :).

People underestimate how much it fucks you up to be subtly excluded as a kid. I would try to talk to my classmates and be met with disinterest or annoyance. The one friend I had, who I clung to and nodded along to his every word, had other friends he liked just as much or more. And his other friends didn’t care for me at all.

I look back at pictures from the time and see how separated I was from them. I remember knowing I was different. I remember posing questions about the world to the girls playing next to me and realizing that they had never asked the same ones to themselves. That the ways we thought couldn’t be more different.

I kept myself amused with my own fanatical stories and musings in my head. I would wander the playground on a circular path, imagining a friend and being sorely disappointed when it didn’t feel as real as I’d hoped.

There was a bubble separating me from everyone else, thin, and nearly invisible, but with a pearly sheen you could catch under the right conditions. I knew it was there, they knew it was there, and it changed me

[heliosunny]

I've read a manhwa with the plot of MC being in a marriage of convenience with the ML in their first life and they work hard to make it work/feel like an actual marriage but the guy didn't give it much thought so they died and in their second life, the MC just decided to not focus on the guy but that somehow attracted the guy's attention

So that premise with Mydei (or Phainon, I just thought it suited Mydei more) where in reader's first life they had loved him and dedicated their whole being to him but they end up dying so in their second life they were more confrontational and willing to potentially piss off Mydei but that just had the opposite effect on him.

Bonus I guess if he remembers what reader did after a certain time and makes him fall harder (or go full on yan route idm)

Yandere!Mydei x Reader

[Artist]

You had loved him once.

It was a quiet, steady love, the kind built on careful devotion rather than reckless passion. A love that manifested in the way you always reached for his hand in public, in the way you made him pomegranate juice exactly as he liked it, in the way you handled every social obligation so he wouldn’t have to. A love that, despite being arranged, had been genuine on your part.

Mydei, however, had never given you much thought.

Your marriage had been one of convenience, a political arrangement that benefited both parties, nothing more. You knew that. You had known it from the start. But knowing didn’t stop you from hoping, didn’t stop you from trying to be someone he could come to love.

Yet you had tried.

You learned his preferences. You shielded him from trivial nuisances. You defended him against enemies in court. You ensured his home was warm when he returned, even if he never cared whether you were there waiting or not. You gave him everything you had to offer, even as your own needs went unnoticed, unfulfilled.

And then, one day, you died.

It was an illness, slow but inevitable. The kind that ate away at you little by little until there was nothing left to give. You had fought to stay by his side, to live long enough for him to notice you, to care. But as you lay on your deathbed, your body weak, your breath shallow, Mydei had stood beside you with the same unreadable expression he always wore.

“It’s unfortunate” he had said, his voice calm. “But there’s nothing to be done.”

He hadn’t held your hand. Hadn’t begged you to stay. Hadn’t even asked if you were afraid. And so you died, alone in a marriage that had never truly been shared.

But then, against all reason, you awoke again.

A second life. A second chance.

And this time, you wouldn’t waste it on him.

----

The first time you met Mydei again in your new life, he had the same detached expression, but this time, you weren’t the same.

“Oh. It’s you.” he said, mildly surprised.

You stared at him, deadpan. “Tragic, isn’t it?”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback. In your past life, you would have smiled softly, eager to please. Now, you met his gaze with all the warmth of an ice sculpture.

“You seem different.” he noted, as though observing the weather.

“Yes, well, dying does that to a person.” You crossed your arms. “But don’t worry, I’m not here to cater to your every whim anymore. I have better things to do.”

His brow furrowed slightly, a reaction so subtle you might have missed it if you hadn’t known him so well. It was funny. For the first time, Mydei found himself unsure of how to proceed.

Days turned to weeks, and you continued to avoid him as much as possible. When you couldn’t, you treated him with polite indifference.

“Here, I brought you tea.”

Mydei raised a brow. “Tea?”

“I just grabbed the first thing I saw.” You sipped your own drink with a smirk, watching as he hesitated before taking a sip. No more pomegranate juice, but you made no move to correct it. Let him suffer.

He gave you a long, unreadable look, then quietly finished the tea anyway.

You weren’t sure when it started, but Mydei began seeking you out more often. Not for anything important, just small, meaningless interactions that, in your first life, he would have ignored entirely.

“You’re busy” he observed one day, watching you pour over books in the library.

“You’re perceptive” you deadpanned, not looking up.

“I can help.”

You finally met his gaze, incredulous. “You? Help? With something that doesn’t benefit you?”

“I’m capable of generosity” he replied smoothly.

You scoffed. “Sure. And I’m the Empress of the Universe.”

To your growing unease, Mydei only chuckled, as if thoroughly enjoying the challenge you presented. If he had ignored your love in your past life, he now seemed intent on prying into your every thought in this one.

You weren’t sure which was worse.

What made it all the more complicated was that Mydei had no idea you had already lived and died once before. To him, this was just the first time you had ever looked at him with anything less than quiet admiration. And while he couldn’t understand what had changed, he was undeniably intrigued.

-----

The third prince’s birthday celebration was an unavoidable event. No matter how much you wanted to stay far away from Mydei, you were both expected to attend.

Dressed in formal attire, you entered the grand hall, carefully ignoring Mydei’s presence beside you.

As expected, the noble ladies flocked to him almost immediately, their voices sickly sweet.

“Mydei, you look as composed as ever” one simpered, lightly touching his sleeve. “Surely you must save a dance for me?”

“And me as well” another chimed in. “It’s not often we get to see you at these gatherings.”

You sipped your drink and turned away, uninterested.

Mydei, however, seemed less inclined to entertain them. His gaze flickered to you, watching your utter lack of reaction.

“You’re ignoring me” he murmured, stepping closer.

You didn’t even glance at him. “Congratulations, you’re learning.”

His lips twitched slightly, as if amused. “Are you jealous?”

You turned to him at last, offering the driest look you could muster. “If I had a single grain of salt for every second I cared, I wouldn’t even be able to season a meal.”

He chuckled. And you had the distinct feeling Mydei wasn’t going to let you ignore him forever.

Sensing your chance to leave, you excused yourself quietly and slipped away. You navigated through the bustling crowd until you reached the gardens, where the young third prince stood alone, watching the lanterns flicker above. You wished him a happy birthday, exchanged brief pleasantries before excusing yourself, intent on leaving before anyone noticed. Unbeknownst to you, Mydei had followed—watching from the shadows as you spoke to the young prince with a warmth you had never once given him in this lifetime.

The door shut behind you with a quiet click as you stepped into your quarters, letting out a sigh of relief. The evening had been long. You had done your part, made an appearance, and now you could finally shed the pretense of civility and rest.

You barely had time to unfasten the heavy jewelry weighing on your ears before there was a knock at the door. Your brows furrowed. It was late. Too late for someone to be calling on you unless it was urgent.

Still, you already had a sinking feeling about who it was.

“Enter” you called, bracing yourself.

The door opened, and sure enough, Mydei stepped inside. His usually pristine attire was slightly disheveled, his coat unbuttoned at the collar. But what truly caught your attention was the way he moved, slower, more deliberate, as if something was weighing on him.

He had never been one to drink, and yet, something about him seemed... off.

You sighed. “It’s late, Mydei.”

“You left early” he countered, shutting the door behind him. His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it—something quiet and simmering beneath the surface. “Without informing me.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to retire for the night” you replied dryly, turning away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me—”

“I saw you” Mydei interrupted.

You stilled. “Saw me?”

“With the third prince” he clarified, stepping closer. “In the gardens. You seemed… close.”

You exhaled through your nose. “He’s a child, Mydei. I was wishing him a happy birthday.”

“And yet, you looked at him with more warmth than you’ve ever spared me.”

You turned to face him then, brows arching. “Are you jealous?”

Mydei didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied you. He took another step forward, invading your space, forcing you to tilt your head slightly to maintain eye contact.

“Would it matter if I was?” he asked at last.

You scoffed, stepping back. “No. Because it wouldn’t change anything.”

Mydei was a man of control. To be thrown off balance, to be met with resistance where he once found compliance, was undoubtedly foreign to him.

Good. Let him feel what you had felt all those years.

You turned away, signaling the conversation was over. “Go sleep, Mydei. We have nothing more to discuss.”

For a moment, he didn’t move. Then, finally, he let out a quiet chuckle, a sound devoid of humor. “You truly are different now.”

You didn’t respond. Didn’t look back.

Because if you did, you might have noticed the way his fingers curled slightly at his sides. And you might have realized that Mydei was far from willing to let things be.

-----

Over the next few days, Mydei seemed to have an unusual amount of free time. His duties, which once kept him busy, were now seemingly cast aside. Wherever you went, he was there.

It started subtly: walking in step with you through the halls, his presence a quiet shadow. Then it grew bolder. Sitting beside you at meals, his knee brushing against yours and never pulling away. Standing behind you, fingertips grazing the small of your back under the guise of guiding you forward.

You would have ignored it, written it off as coincidence—if not for the way his touch lingered. The way he reached for your hand absentmindedly, as if it were second nature.

One evening, as you sat by the window, lost in thought, you felt it again, his hand, warm and steady, against your shoulder. A familiar presence, yet wholly unfamiliar in its intent.

“You’ve been avoiding me” Mydei murmured.

“I’ve been living my life” you corrected, not looking up.

His fingers curled slightly, almost as if to pull you closer, but he hesitated. “And yet, somehow, I find myself a part of it more than before.”

You turned to him then, meeting his gaze directly. “Perhaps you should ask yourself why that is.”

A smirk ghosted his lips, though his eyes held something heavier. “Oh, I have.”

You had tolerated it long enough. Mydei’s constant presence, his lingering touches, the way he hovered around you as if he had never been indifferent.

The final straw came when he followed you into the private study, an intimate space he had never once stepped foot in before. You slammed the book you were holding onto the table and turned to face him, irritation burning in your chest.

"Enough!" Your voice was firm, unwavering. "What exactly do you want from me, Mydei?"

He arched a brow, unfazed. "I would think that’s obvious."

You scoffed. "Obvious? You ignored me for years, treated our marriage as a mere obligation, and now—now you cling to my side like a shadow. Why?" Your breath hitched slightly, but you pushed forward. "Is it because I no longer chase after you? Because I finally see this marriage for what it is?"

A flicker of something passed through his eyes—something unreadable. He took a step closer, but you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"No" you said sharply. "No more. This ends now. I want a divorce."

For the first time since his sudden shift in behavior, Mydei’s expression darkened. "You don’t mean that."

"I do." You met his gaze head-on. "I refuse to stay shackled in a marriage that was never real."

He exhaled slowly, as if reining himself in. "And what makes you think I'll allow it?"

Your fingers clenched into fists. "Because it’s not your decision to make."

"You truly have changed."

You didn’t back down. "And I intend to keep it that way."

His eyes lingered on you, calculating, something darker stirring beneath the surface. Then, as if making a silent decision, he took another step forward.

"Then let's see how far you’re willing to go" he murmured.

-----

Determined to push him into agreeing, you invited Duke Laurent, a respected noble and someone with a clear interest in you, to visit. If Mydei would not agree to divorce out of reason, perhaps jealousy would make him let go.

Just as you began conversing with the duke, Mydei’s arm suddenly snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You stiffened at the public display of intimacy, something he had never once shown before. The duke’s expression remained polite, though there was clear tension in the air.

Mydei leaned in, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. "You think bringing another man here will make me release you?"

He turned his gaze to the duke, his expression composed but lethal. "You see, we are still very much married."

Before you could shove him away, he tilted your chin up and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to the corner of your lips, just enough to make the moment scandalous.

"Mydei—" You hissed, shoving at his chest, but his grip remained firm.

Then came his final blow, spoken with a smirk against your skin. "If you truly wish to fulfill the divorce, then surely, as tradition dictates, our marriage must bear an heir first. Otherwise, it would be incomplete."

The audacity of it, the sheer arrogance—

Fury surged through you. Without thinking, you leaned in and bit his shoulder, hard enough to make him tense, hard enough to leave a mark through his fine fabric. Just hoping it'll make him let you go. He inhaled sharply, but instead of anger, something else flickered in his gaze. Interest.

His grip on you tightened, fingers pressing into your waist. "How intriguing" he murmured, almost amused. "You’re becoming more and more fascinating."

You could only glare, breathless with anger, as he leaned in even closer. "I’ve decided—I shall never let you alone."

That night, Mydei made his final decision.

You found yourself restless, pacing in your chambers, feeling trapped in a game you never agreed to play. The door creaked open, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was him.

"Leave!" you ordered without looking up.

Instead, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. "You asked for a divorce. I gave you my terms," he said smoothly. "But I have a better idea."

You turned, narrowing your eyes. "I don't care for your ideas, Mydei. I want my freedom."

"And I want you," he countered effortlessly, closing the distance between you. "So, it seems we are at an impasse."

He reached out, tracing a hand over your wrist. "You see, I’ve realized something," he murmured, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. "I cannot let you go."

"Then you will have to learn."

"No" he whispered, leaning in "I will simply ensure that you never wish to leave."

This was no longer a battle of marriage or freedom.

This was war.

Then, his voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "If you try to run, I will find you. If you seek another, I will ruin them. And if you deny me..." His fingers trailed over your throat, "I will make sure you have nowhere to go but back to me."

"You wouldn’t dare."

"Wouldn’t I?" The smirk on his face only triggered you more. "You forget, my dear, I am not a man who lets go of what is his. And you? You belong to me."

A slow, measured pause before he added, "So fight me if you must. Hate me, struggle, scream. But in the end, you will always return to me. I will make sure of it."

---

Another day passed. Nothing happened. Until-

You were sitting stiffly in your chambers, the weight of Mydei’s last words still pressing against your mind.

Mydei entered, once again without your consent.

A goblet sat before you, filled with deep crimson liquid—the rich, unmistakable hue of pomegranate juice. It was his favorite, something he drank often, something he had tried countless times to get you to enjoy.

“I had the servants prepare this just for you” Mydei said smoothly, swirling the liquid in his own goblet. “It would be such a shame if you ignored my gift.”

You hesitated, glancing at the drink. Something about his tone made you wary, but refusing would only stretch this moment further. You reached for the goblet, only for Mydei to intercept, his fingers ghosting over yours as he picked it up himself.

“Let me.”

His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head slightly. Before you could react, the cool rim of the goblet pressed against your lips, the sweet aroma of pomegranate thick in the air. The moment the liquid touched your tongue, warmth flooded through your body. A strange, numbing sensation curled through your veins, heavy and inescapable. Your limbs felt sluggish, the world turning soft around the edges.

Your breath hitched as your body betrayed you, sinking against the silk sheets.

Through your hazy vision, you saw Mydei standing by the door, watching. His expression was unreadable, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Rest well, my dear”

But he didn’t leave.

Instead, he moved closer, his fingers brushing against your cheek before he slid into the bed beside you. His arms wrapped around you, firm yet deceptively gentle, caging you against him. The warmth of his body seeped into yours, and in your hazy state, resistance felt… unnecessary.

“You’ll understand soon” he whispered, his breath fanning against your ear. “You don’t need to fight anymore. Just listen to me.”

Your thoughts wavered, slipping further into a fog. Your body felt too heavy to move, your mind too sluggish to argue. His presence, once suffocating, now felt… inevitable.

Through the night, he held you close, his grip never loosening. Each time your thoughts stirred, his voice was there, murmuring soft reassurances, reinforcing his presence, reminding you he was always there.

By the time morning light crept through the curtains, your mind was no longer as sharp as before. The idea of pulling away seemed distant, unnecessary.

He was still here.

His arms remained locked around you, as if this was how it had always been. His breath, slow and even, ghosted against the side of your neck, warm yet oppressive.

“Awake already?” His voice was low, thick with the drowsiness of someone who had slept well.

You swallowed, trying to shift, only to realize just how intimately entangled the two of you were. One of his legs had hooked over yours, anchoring you beneath the weight of him. His fingers, idly tracing over the fabric of your nightclothes, stopped just at your wrist, where his hold subtly tightened.

You were trapped.

“I need to get up” you muttered, voice still hoarse from sleep.

Mydei didn’t loosen his grip. If anything, his arms curled around you more securely, pressing you deeper against his chest. “You don’t, actually,” he murmured. “Stay.”

Something in his voice made your stomach twist. There was no plea, no request, just the quiet certainty of a man who had already decided what would happen.

“I have things to do” you tried again, frustration slipping into your tone. “You can’t just—”

“Can’t I?” Mydei interrupted lazily, propping himself up on one elbow so he could look down at you properly. His hair was slightly tousled, falling over sharp eyes that gleamed with something unreadable. “You haven’t been well. I think it’s best if you rest today.”

“I feel fine” you lied, pushing against his chest.

He caught your wrist easily, his thumb pressing against the rapid beat of your pulse. “Do you?” His smile was slow, knowing. “You still look dazed. You’re warm. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were falling ill.”

Mydei had always been perceptive, dangerously so. And in this moment, with your thoughts still sluggish, you knew you were at a disadvantage.

“Mydei,” you tried to keep your voice steady, “what did you do?”

His grip on your wrist didn’t waver, but his expression softened into something almost… fond.

“I’ve merely helped you see things clearly.” His fingers traced over your knuckles before he lifted your hand, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your palm. His lips curved against your skin. “You always try to run. You make things so difficult for yourself.”

“You drugged me.”

Mydei sighed, tilting his head as if mildly disappointed. “It was just a little something to help you relax. To stop you from making rash decisions.” He leaned in closer, his nose grazing against your cheek before his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. “You wouldn’t want to make any rash decisions, would you?”

A surge of unease coursed through you, your body screaming to move—to fight. But your limbs still felt leaden, and Mydei knew it. He had planned for it.

“I thought we had an agreement” you gritted out. “You can’t keep me here like this.”

“What do you mean by 'keep you'? You’re mine, my dear. You always have been.”

Your breath hitched as he finally released your wrist—only to cup your jaw, forcing you to look at him properly.

“You’ll understand soon enough.”

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Nerd gojo x nerd reader! Headcanons

Nerd!Gojo x Nerd!You Headcanons

Part 2 ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

♡ Gojo Satoru, the prodigy. The guy who solves complex math problems in his head like it’s a simple 2+2. If someone ask him how, he’ll just smirk and say, “Just run your mind faster.” As if that makes sense.

♡ Gojo, the last-minute genius. He does his assignments at the last possible second but still gets a perfect score. People have accused him of using black magic. He doesn’t deny it.

♡ Gojo, the overanalyzer. Someone calls him a know it all as a joke, and next thing they know, they’re stuck listening to a 30-minute breakdown of why intelligence is subjective and how human perception affects knowledge.

♡ Gojo, the human stopwatch. He calculates the exact time people take to do the most random things:

Shoko takes exactly 3.2 seconds to process a joke before laughing.

Suguru sniffs his food for 2.6 seconds before deciding if it’s poisoned.

His teacher blinks an average of 18 times per minute when lecturing.

♡ Gojo, the walking encyclopedia. He acts like he knows everything psychology, physics, chemistry, math. Whether he actually does or not is debatable, but he’ll never admit he’s wrong.

♡ Gojo, the fact machine. He drops random trivia constantly, just to flex. “Did you know honey never spoils?” “Gojo, no one cares.”

♡ Gojo, the exam escape artist. He drags Suguru out to do something totally unproductive before exams, but somehow still tops the class while Suguru barely passes. Suguru has stopped questioning it.

♡ Gojo, the romance skeptic. Laughs in the face of love at first sight, listing the exact probability of it happening.

♡ Gojo, the worst date ever. He once explained The Art of War on a date. The girl left before dessert. He still doesn’t know why.

♡ Gojo, the secret romance reader. He totally didn’t get caught reading a romance novel in the library. And he totally didn’t like it.

Then, there’s you.

♡ You, the transfer student. No expression. No reaction. The class went dead silent when you walked in, as if even breathing would be too loud. The teacher praised you, and you just nodded like it didn’t matter.

♡ You, Gojo’s accidental rival. Sitting next to him was a nightmare. He asked the most stupid questions, and you ignored all of them. He assumed you were just an edgy wannabe. That made him laugh.

♡ You, the real threat. When exam results came out, Gojo was shook. For the first time, he wasn’t the top scorer. You were. And your reaction? A shrug. No smile, no satisfaction. That’s when you became interesting.

♡ Gojo, the forced study partner. He forced the teacher to make you his partner. You weren’t amused.

“Why do I need to do practicals if I already know the answer?” you questioned

“To see if it’s true or not, dummy.” He grinned, waiting for your response.

“If it’s in the book, it’s already true.” He had never wanted to strangle someone and marry them at the same time before.

♡ Gojo, the doomed fool. No one ever entertained his nerdy ramblings, but you? You matched his energy. When you started debating him on his own topics, he knew he was done for.

♡ Gojo, the AI skeptic. He swears you talk like a robot.

“That’s not an effective method.”

“This is scientifically incorrect.”

“Are you a government experiment?”

♡ Gojo, the challenge seeker. He constantly challenged you to competitions. You refused every time. “Not interested in unnecessary drama.” That hurt his soul.

♡ Gojo, the frustrated observer. He needed to see a crack in your facade. Anything. He studied your every move, trying to prove you weren’t an AI.

♡ Gojo, the mimic. He caught you muttering the pi table to regain focus. He immediately adopted the technique.

♡ Gojo, the sore winner. If he scored higher than you, he wasn’t happy he was annoyed. What’s the point if you don’t even care?

♡ Gojo, the reluctant believer. He told you about his hobbies with way too much excitement. You told him about yours, but your blank expression made him question if you were lying.

♡ Gojo, the paranoid calculator. He tried analyzing your movements, but everything about you was too precise. It freaked him out.

♡ Gojo, the not-so-subtle spy. Since you lived next to Suguru, he used that as an excuse to observe you. Every time he saw you, you were either studying or staring out the window like a lifeless statue. You caught him multiple times. Instead of yelling, you just stared at him. It was terrifying.

♡ Gojo, the insecure nerd. He nervously brought up Dungeons & Dragons, expecting you to be clueless. Instead, you knew everything. He had never felt average before.

♡ Gojo, the desk menace. He constantly poked you during class, hoping for any reaction. You just stared at him, unblinking, until he became flustered and left.

♡ Gojo, the insane conversationalist. He told you the wildest theories, and you listened like it was just another casual conversation. It drove him insane.

It took me 4 days to think of a gojo nerd scenerio 😭

And you GUYS HAVE TO REQUEST DO IT

Part 2 will be here

@naomigojo

[tooturtly]

Just so ppl know it does get better! I didn’t really have friends from ages 13-18, and even before then I always felt a little different (gay and neurodivergent). And yeah, it sucked. I thought I was doing everything right. I talked to people in class, I did extracurriculars, I was involved. But nobody was texting me unless it was about something school related. I wasn’t invited to anybody’s house. Twice the people I ate lunch with made homecoming plans but never invited me, I just showed up bc of how much they talked about it.

It finally took seeing the group of people I thought were my friends really overtly reject an openly neurodivergent guy from the friend group. Why? Because he talked too much, he was too sincere. It wasn’t any fault of his own. When I hung out with him in a smaller group, I had a blast. And I realized it wasn’t his fault or mine, but the people who I didn’t even like that much who were pushing me away. They were doing the same thing to both of us, and I should be pissed about it! (I still am, even know people change, it was still a shitty thing to do)

My senior year I finally put myself first and realized that having bad friends was worse than being alone. And I might as well be alone on my terms. I went to homecoming and prom by myself, I wore my own weird clothes and danced by myself just to have fun. I realized that going with those people had made me have less fun, because they hardly wanted to dance to the music if they didn’t know the song. I decided I was going to have fun and be my own person.

The only people I had who were friends were the older people at the game shop I went to. They were kind and patient with me when I didn’t know all the rules, and I’ve since lost touch with them but everyday I’m thankful that I had them in my life. Thank you for taking care of this weird teenager who was too loud and too pushy, and who you guided anyway! Thank you for humoring me!

And then I did find lasting friends. I graduated high school and found a group of amazing, nerdy, goofy people who I clicked with. We play D&D together, we eat together often, we share our stories, we talk and we laugh, we have inside jokes.

As I’ve gotten older I know I still have those moments. Even with my closest friends, I have doubts and anxieties about if they actually like me, if I’m a good and kind enough person to be able to sustain a friendship. Sometimes I think maybe I’m better off alone, because then any hurt I cause will only be me. I’ve never had friends before, I don’t know anything! Sometimes I think I’m too full of hurt to do anything but hurt. But I don’t trust those thoughts! My brain lies to me all the time! Those terrible twisted feelings never come from me, they come from a me that doesn’t know anything but pain and sorrow. I’m an entirely different person when the depression hits, and I’ve learned enough not to trust how I feel in those moments.

I know that I’m trying and my friends know it too. I’m not purposefully mean, I make amends when I make mistakes, which is all you can do because everyone makes mistakes. And I think about how much sadder my life would be without my support network. I would be miserable! Yeah I can do it alone, but I don’t want to! Doing it alone sucks! I love my friends! I don’t want to let them go, and they want me around. If my friends didn’t want me around, they’d tell me to pack it. Yet I’ve continued making friends, I find fun and weird people everywhere!

Fuck it, I’m gonna be me as much as I can! Life is terrible when you’re pretending to be someone else. And I’ve been lucky enough to find space irl where I can be me. If you can’t do that in person, go online, find community anywhere you can get it. I know I learned a lot from lurking online in high school.

My friends love me even though I have flaws, and I love them even though they have flaws. Including the anxiety and self doubt! Loving with flaws is human. Confidence is your armor against that self doubt. Even if it’s fake! Say fuck it and love your life, love yourself! The world is beautiful! Life is beautiful in those small moments laughing, in talking, in smiling.

Yes this is optimistic positivity! Because pessimism made me sad and being sad does not make you want to live! And I want to live. I made the choice once to live as much as I can. God’s tried to kill me twice and he has failed so far, so I will dance through life laughing.

I can still be depressed and I can still laugh! I can be lonely sometimes and still have friends! I can know that there’s always light at the end of the tunnel if I smile and greet the darkness as my friend.

On Isolation

[vamptarot]

TMIs about your future spouse | PAC

pile one pile two pile three

how to choose a pile . . . choose whichever you feel drawn to or ask your guides to guide your eyes to the one that is meant for you! ᡣ𐭩

— ⭑.ᐟ this pac was inspired by soobin, as well as my own love for tmis! tmi means ‘too much information’, so things that could be awkward to share but are still entertaining or interesting to talk about! please keep in mind that this is a general reading still, so these aren’t necessarily something unique, just fun! so something that happens to a lot if people, but not everyone. so it’s supposed to show your future spouse’s/soulmate’s unique charm! this reading is intended to make you feel closer to them, to help you realise they are an actual person and not just an idea of a possibility that could happen in your life! <3 I am also sorry for the colour theme for this pac, I admit, I haven’t properly thought it through.

pile one : books

𐙚: 8 of cups,page of cups reversed, three of pentacles, the devil reversed, ace of cups reversed, five of cups, six of wands

bottom of the deck: seven of swords reversed

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ the very first thing I would like to mention is that the cards almost formed a big zero, but suddenly the cards fell out in a way they formed the number ‘10’. so this leads me to believe that your person grew up in an environment in which they were bullied for their looks but grew up ‘to be a 10’ because they put in the work to take care of themselves. this could be something some of you will be able to relate over with your person, you two could stay up and share your experiences with one another. the number 10 is significant here in general as well, for some of you their birthday is on the 10th! so the 10th of any month, but the first 4 cards fell out in a way they mirrored one another so I assume there are actually quite a few people here whose spouse was born on October 10th. - or maybe even you, which they find cool. - for a very small amount of you, your person is 10 years older than you. most people in this pile will definitely only have a 1-4 years of age gap with their love, but I am specifically picking up on a few people who will have a 10, or even 10+ year age gap with their lover. don’t be scared though, if you aren’t into it then it’s more than likely not you!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they could potentially have an anxiety that is related to money! so there is a bigger possibility here that they grew up poor. I realise that there could be people in this pile who can’t relate to that, but regardless I wanted to mention it because it seems to be a part of their life that shaped their personality on a greater scale. they could be more attracted to people - both platonically and romantically - who can appreciate the little things in life, that are grateful for what they have and can take care of it well too. they seem to dislike people who take money for granted, but at the same time they don’t like it if people give too much power to it. it’s just that they wish to surround themselves with humble people who have a lot of gratitude.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they could have great potential to be really successful at life, at whatever they set their mind to and become ambitious towards. however their own doubts could at times stop them from completing tasks at hand that they subconsciously deem as difficult. they know they will be successful, but there is still that doubt at the back of their head that just yells ‘what if’, continuously building up the anxiety inside of them bit by bit. so they are quite the over thinkers, sort of scatter brained because they have thousand of thoughts and they are all going at light speed. - I almost said Godspeed, so they might have this term in their everyday vocabulary. - don’t get them wrong, they are still very disciplined and hardworking, their mind just presents them with several situations so they can be sure to take the right one. for some of you they could even have imposter syndrome.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have an irregular sleeping schedule! of course, there are many people in this pile so the reason why for the irregular sleep schedule isn’t going to be just one thing. for some it’s insomnia, for another group is hypersomnia and for some people’s soulmate it’s really just because of their work. so you will really just have to wait and see! although I still think they prefer to stay up til late at night and wake up early. - sometimes they don’t even wake up but just continue the day.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ for some of you! they have special interests in different times of history. honestly Egypt and tudor era England is coming in strong! - yeah, typical/basic I know. they can still like it tho, up to them! - but also ancient China and Japan, especially the clothing. honestly, there seems to be a focus on the past. the cultures, fashion and social behaviour that were alive then. it seems to fascinate them how much people have changed yet stayed the same all at once! they just seem to have favourites. - this could be true in general. some of you will definitely have the ‘I hate everyone but you’ trope going on. - regardless they are highly intelligent and always willing to learn and educate themselves in every and any topic. they enjoy knowing things even if they seem useless to others. you can never know when you need to know something.

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might not be the most experienced when it comes to sexual things. it’s not that they aren’t experienced at all, but they much rather would prefer to control their desires than to give into them and waste time. it’s like they don’t want to do it if it’s not necessary. really hard to turn them on too. this is because… they are demisexual. if you don’t know what that is, it’s basically only being turned on if you are in love with the person you are sharing your experience with! - which no, it’s not normal for everyone! some people are aromantic and bisexual for example. - so they just pick their “battles” really carefully. for some of you they could even have purity ocd </3 that’s only a very selective few of you though!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ I will be honest with you, they have been seriously in love before.. well, at least what they believe to be love. however, I genuinely can’t tell if they had a relationship or not because they overcomplicate the energy surrounding them and get all sentimental. this has also happened two times, but I am sure the second time they didn’t date.. it’s the first one that they overcomplicate, more than likely due to romanticising the idea of first love. hold on ✋🏻 don’t click off, I know you are annoyed. - rightfully! - this feeling of theirs won’t last forever, as they meet you they will mature and realise that ‘oh, this is what true love actually feels like’. - a channeled thought of theirs! - so by the time they are around they won’t think about that person! 🩶 they are also very single, so that’s that.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have a tendency to get insecure about themselves sometimes! not their body, I think there are body parts they are very confident in yet humble about. it’s rather about their personality and their being as a whole. they might question if they are good enough to be with you or if they even deserve your love. it’s not that they wonder because they know they don’t, past experiences just left them scarred. they could have been put down a lot mentally, possibly even bullied and told that no one would want to have them anyway.. so that experience just stuck. it makes them wonder if it’s true or not. you know? tries to keep their cool but at the end of the day they are a sensitive soul. very shy too!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ abandonment issues 🔥 sorry, I thought I would just be straightforward 🫡 they are really scared of being left behind by the people they love. though, it’s not an irrational fear at all to be fair. most people’s spouse/soulmate in this pile has divorced/separated parents. not gonna lie, it could have been the mom that’s left but of course that is personal to everyone’s experience. regardless, they could self sabotage and distance themselves if they believe that you will try to leave them. ‘I will leave before you can ever hurt me’, you know? so they could just need a lot of reassurance! nurturing is fine too, but it could make them embarrassed because they might feel like ‘they need to be stronger than this.’ - to point out, enjoying getting nurtured or giving it is completely fine and nothing you should be ashamed of, I am telling you how your person feels. - I do think they can heal from this habit tho! they are also an introvert. I wasn’t sure how to fit it, but I thought it’s important for someone here to hear it 🫶🏻

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ is interested in feminine people! no, you do not have to wear pink, bows and act like someone you are not. by feminine I mean someone with a gentle nature. kind, sweet, playful, well mannered, caring and a person that’s protective without being overbearing with it. a person with a silent strength. of course they might like it if you have feminine mannerisms too - as in your body language - but they don’t really consciously care about it, it’s a rather subconscious attraction of theirs! they care more for the person’s soul and not the body. - for some of you your person is religious, but I am sure that only applies if you yourself are religious as well! 🩷 - regardless, if you don’t think you embody these don’t worry about it too much. - I fully believe you do, you might just second guess yourself. -

— ✮⋆˙ pink , jang wonyoung , afro hair naturally but currently braided , ginger , shooting star , cosmos , cosmo and wanda , 90s shows , someone here likes niche movies (apes, star wars, kid shows ect.. bluey to be specific) , ‘timmy was an average kid that no one understands’ being stuck in your head , milk being spilled , starting the day of bad , red lipstick , April 4th , old fashion style? like classy 20s - 40s , swim - chase atlantic , smoke but from a candle , Aphrodite worshipper 🫵🏻 , bows but like dyi? on nails , leopard cubs , glamour , merida/brave , bears , a dog named bear ? black but not completely , ‘I got a pocket full of sunshine ‘

pile one, hold on because I got things to say. ✋🏻 I know most of you are girls/women but there are guys/men here that think I forgot them based on my reading style. I did not, the most manly men I have ever met had some sort of feminity to them. I felt your energy the whole time. 🫡 also, I know most of you doubt that I could actually get some of that information out bc ‘oh but you can’t get tmis with tarot’.. baby, I know you saw some other readers not being able to but I can. I am not saying this from a place of arrogance. as long as the person’s higher self is willing to share something with me I can channel it just fine. I am gifted and I WILL use it to help you because you deserve to have help, guidance and most important of all fun. obviously, these tmis are heavier than I expected, but if you wanna know more about your person who am I to stop that? I will channel to the best of my abilities for you 🫡 even tho I know some of you didn’t like some of the tmis and you know what? that’s fair you don’t have to 🤧 take care beautiful don’t let anyone dim your lights that even the sun would be jealous of mwa thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile two : soobin

𐙚: the magician, three of coins, hierophant reversed, the lovers reversed, wheel of fortune, eight of coins reversed, knight of wands

bottom of the deck: ten of pentacles

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they seem to be a rather pessimistic person. it’s not that they can’t have fun, it’s just that they are pessimistic without even noticing it you know. the kind of person to say ‘what if we won’t like it?’ when you suggest trying out something new. not bothersome though, could just lead to bickering or non serious fights in their daily life.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ I don’t think this person is an adult yet.. ? as in, I don’t think they are any older than 20. so my best guess is the majority of the people who chose this pile are quite young as well 🫡 if you are an adult tho, it’s just that your person is very child like. it’s not that they are not mature, but they haven’t exactly experienced things yet that would make them view life in a serious manner.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ not that talk active. they talk, but they probably use a lot of slangs as of now and have a rather casual tone when talking with anyone. you know how teenage boys talk? kind of like that. not completely though, I don’t think their vocabulary sounds like brain rot. they know how to speak respectfully to people if that makes sense.. ? like they can let go of the slangs if they want, they just use it to sound more friendly. - or if they are really young they are trying to sound cool. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ outside a lot! they are pretty extroverted so they enjoy going outside with their friends, or to work. which is great, they honestly seem very disciplined even though their energy is carefree and young. it’s not that they are not home at all, but being inside all day could overwhelm them a lot.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they more than likely have a fake friend that wants no good for them. they are blissfully unaware of this, but this “friend” seems to be quite manipulative towards them because they enjoy the control that comes with it. :/ - hope they break free from people like this. -

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ has player tendencies. I am saying tendencies because they aren’t very successful with their attempts; although they would like to tell you otherwise lol they are unsuccessful bc at heart they are a lover boy/girl, they just didn’t embrace this part of themselves yet.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ doesn’t believe that there is genuinely someone out there for them. it stems from insecurity but also the fact that they don’t really seem to believe in true love. it’s like they wish it would exist, but in their eyes it does not. you will change this tho!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ honestly wants to have a big family of their own when they are older and feel ready for it. do you know those kids who say ‘when I will have a family I will have 11 kids so I have a football team’? your person could’ve been like that lol like I don’t think y’all will have that many kids, but you guys will still have a pretty little family.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might be a really cuddly person! not in public of course, but definitely in private. wants to cuddle with you as much as possible, especially when watching movies together or just chilling. might like the idea of you snuggling into them under their shirt or them doing this to you. - just depends on who is the more masculine one in the relationship. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ could honestly be very protective of you. not in a controlling sense, but your person is very brave and knows almost no fears. they will definitely be ready to call out anyone who disrespects you. maybe physically fight as well, but that’s incase you get harassed. probably has fantasies of being a protector. 🫡

— ✮⋆˙ brazil , ‘go ahead and cry’ (song), cold , tan skin , tiktok comment section , jump - p1h , rap songs , nose bleeds , football , sweat on forehead & hair (very specific thing to be attracted to. not judging, clarifying. ) , strawberries on pink shirt , chase ocean , choosing 2 piles (I see you) , hooves? as in hooves on horses , sailors ! , ⚓️ , purple eyeshadow , glittery eyeshadow , someone here is a latina , dandadan (esp the ost) , ‘love of my life’ , horror! , uzumaki by junji ito , book reader 🫵🏻

I am not going to lie to you, I am pretty much a big yapper but your partner was trying to be nonchalant so bad their energy affected what exactly I could say, how and just didn’t want to let me in on much. I think they like the idea of being mysterious so they force it even though they aren’t like that at all. also, I think they have a lot of tendency to lie bc throughout this whole reading their higher self tried to go ahead and lie to me in order to appear more cool and well mannered in front of you. if you are into mature men this is NOT your pile at all, this person is very immature and if they aren’t making you feel good this person isn’t for you my dearest. hopefully in the future I can do a better reading for you! thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

pile three : eye cream

𐙚: nine of wands rev, four of wands, ten of wands, the empress reversed, ace of wands rev, the hanged man, the sun rev, queen of swords rev

bottom of the deck: queen of coins

♡ ⢷ general TMIs

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ manspreads a lot. it could be that they are comfortable this way or that it’s to assert dominance quitely.. or, you know, just for space. I do feel like the reason is different for everyone, regardless there are many people in this pile who could perhaps find this gross. I understand, it’s not the most pleasant thing to imagine a random person doing.. but your future spouse is your future spouse!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they might have a tendency to get depressed easily, perhaps they could even have a depression that’s related to a season like winter, or summer. this is different for each person but it’s winter for most people, it could drain their energy and they could feel rather exhausted.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ their view on religions isn’t exactly mature, they view it as limiting and at times they could be disrespectful while completely thinking that they are justified. this doesn’t apply to only christianity, they could think most if not all religions are completely out of touch and could potentially grow their ego by saying that ‘they don’t need religion to be a good person’ while completely missing the point or without bothering to further learn about whatever subject at hand. although I want to point out, this is only the case if you yourself are the same way. for the religious people in this pile - especially if you are muslim - your future spouse still isn’t religious but is very much open to learning and hearing you out. they could potentially have big puppy eyes while smiling as you tell them about your religion, experiences and what they mean to you. there is a little divide in this group when it comes to this matter but I wouldn’t worry much because you attract the kind of people who are pretty much similar to you!

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they don’t have too much creativity to them - no shade - but they are incredibly good at analysing things and media literacy! they might like to take apart scenes in a movie or show or perhaps even notice things other people normally wouldn’t. they have really sharp eyes and are incredibly good at understanding context that can sometimes fly by peoples head. they are quite intelligent and observant, they appreciate it when there is meaning or reason behind things.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they are a foreigner! I cannot tell where they are from, but it’s certainly a different country from yours. the country they are from seems to be known from their climate honestly, much different from what you are used to. for some of you it’s hot, for some it’s cold. for most of you they are from a hot climate and the owner of a tan skin! for the winter lovers, your spouse is from a cold climate! - while you might think I am making this up I am matter of fact just channeling the sort of person you will be pulled and attracted to. -

♡ ⢷ TMIs in love

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ hopeless romantic, their higher self was not able to wait til I get to this point 😭 definitely the sort of person who loves spoiling you rotten with a whole lot of love to give! one of their love languages is words of affirmation 🙂‍↕️ I almost said ‘love of affirmation’ - lmao - so I am pretty sure they will tell you they love you every single day either directly or in their very own way.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they seem very confident on the outside but tend to get very insecure due to past traumas caused by someone that they once loved. they don’t like to be open about this, and they don’t enjoy the vulnerability that comes with it. they don’t like to be pitied but also get sad while recalling the memories. since their feelings are left unresolved there might be a few issues that come up in the relationship between you. they no longer love the person, of course, but they will at times wonder if they are good enough for you, if you love them or you pretend. they seem very scared of betrayal.

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ their type is a rather feminine and submissive person who can still stand up for themselves and be reliable. someone trustworthy, gentle, nurturing and kind hearted. yet, at the same time not really naive. someone wise, intelligent and nurturing. I feel pulled to say a ‘real women’ bc SOMEONE’s future spouse in this pac is very stubborn with mentioning that but for most people in this pile they are bisexual, so I don’t actually want to say that, but I am mentioning it just incase. - If you are a guy do not worry they are obviously a boy kisser my sweetheart - Eitherway, your spouse is very dominant. So that’s that! - Yes even if it’s a woman. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they have incredibly high standards. they are picky and they like to choose their partner well. so because of this they are a tad bit inexperienced. not insanely, but they would rather value themselves than to give themselves to someone who can’t see their worth. - their words, not mine. -

᭝ ᨳଓ ՟ they are family oriented, aka you oriented. they are incredibly open minded, understanding, not forceful and will try to be open and accepting even when it’s hard or they don’t exactly understand you or what you are going through. let’s say you start out the relationship wanting a big family but down the line get scared of pregnancy and become unsure if you actually want a big family or not, they will be accepting and try to understand; and if you aren’t ready to talk about it they will wait for you to slowly open up bit by bit no matter how long it takes. they are patient, and they are loving. of course, this was only an example but I figured this would be a good way to show how much your spouse adores and loves you for the person that you are, rather than what you can give them.

— ✮⋆˙songs from your childhood, ‘tell me it’s you’, someone here has a new crush, a drama starring kim soohyun, mbappé, smudged eyeliner, your waterline having some sort of issue? 🧐, painted glittery nails, reddish orange, cracking your fingers, blond - bleached - hair, storm, prominent eyebrows, leia/leila/layla, recently bought yourself clothing, X, pearls - maybe pink ones? -, collecting seashells from a beach/shore, malaysia/indonesia, milky skin, sad puppy eyes by default

alrighty mighty my beautiful pile three I KNOW everyone in this group has read something they perhaps didn’t like but please know it’s because your group is the most diverse one, so many energies came through. either way I hope you could still enjoy this pile 🤧 I would NEVER purposefully say anything to upset any of you. 🩶 thank you for reading.

if you liked my reading please consider checking out my paid readings! there is barely any topic I will say no to and with every penny you are helping me!

[vmlnrzmp4]

What if Blue Lock dad's parents were visiting to see their grandchild? (Though with an exception of Michael, for an... Obvious reasons, so, how about with Michael instead some comfort stuff with him having some memories of his parents after seeing his mother on TV, then coming back to reality with a family he actually has now?)

a/n: hey lovely, i excluded kaiser here for obvious reasons :(

itoshi sae

"tadaima," sae says nonchalantly as he steps in, his parents following behind.

the moment they enter, natsuki—who had been playing with barbie dolls—gets up and rushes toward them.

"ojiichan!" she calls, sprinting straight into her grandfather’s arms.

sae’s father laughs heartily, kneeling down just in time to catch his granddaughter, "ah, my little natsuki! did you miss me?"

"mhm! so much!" she says, nuzzling into his shoulder.

sae’s mother, standing beside him, crosses her arms, "no hugs for me?"

natsuki giggles and wiggles free, rushing toward her.

"obaachan~!" she sings, wrapping her tiny arms around her grandmother’s waist.

sae clicks his tongue, "natsuki," he calls softly but firmly.

natsuki looks up from the hug. "yes, papa?"

sae stares at her for a second before sighing and turning away. "nothing. forget it."

natsuki blinks then realizes, "oh papa! hug for papa!" she says as sae picks natsuki in her arms.

you chuckle, stepping forward to help with the bags. "guess you were feeling left out, no?"

"shut up," he mutters.

his mother smirks. "he was always like this when rin got more attention as a baby too."

"mom—" sae glares at her.

his father chuckles, placing a hand on sae’s shoulder.

"some things never change."

itoshi rin

"—and don’t forget how you used to follow sae around everywhere."

"mom, enough," rin says, angrily stabbing his food with the fork. but trying his best to be gentle for his daughter.

sakura gasps, "papa, were you a little shadow?"

"absolutely not," says rin.

"yes," his mother corrects.

you couldn't help but look away, your hand covering your mouth as you laugh.

rin groans, rubbing his temples. "can we just eat?"

but sakura isn't done and starts mimicking his every movement. If he reaches for his glass, she does too. If he leans forward, so does she. "look, ma, obaachan! ojiichan! i'm a little shadow just like papa!" she giggles.

you hold back another laugh while rin sighs, giving his daughter a stern look, "sakura. sit properly."

"but papa—"

"sakura," he warns.

his mother laughs, "she really takes after you, rin."

isagi yoichi

"yuki-chan!" yoichi's mother exclaims, taking yuki in her arms and showering her face with so many kissys.

"obaachan!" yuki giggles.

after setting yuki down, yoichi’s mom turns to you, "y/n-chan!" she says, pulling you into a hug, "it’s been too long. have you been taking care of yourself?"

you nod, hugging her back, "of course, mom."

yoichi steps forward, expecting a greeting, only to get a quick pat on the head. "ah, and there's yo-chan."

"mom!" he groans.

his father chuckles, lifting little yuki, "my little yuki-chan has gotten so big! look at you!" then, turning to you, "yoichi isn’t giving you trouble, is he?"

"oi! why does everyone assume that?!" yoichi asks.

his mom smirks, "because yoichi was such a weak little thing growing up. always so soft-hearted, getting teary-eyed over the smallest things."

"mom—!"

"oh, like that time he lost a game and clung to me the whole day, pouting?" his dad adds with a laugh.

"mom! dad! enough!"

yuki gasps dramatically. "papa, you used to pout?"

you let out a chuckle while yoichi buries his face in his hands. his mother simply pats his back. "don’t worry, yo-chan. you turned out fine."

"barely," his dad jokes.

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp [open]

[philosophicalparadox]

As someone who lives with a Belgian shepherd (malinois) x border collie mix, this is completely accurate lol

Ours knows how to trade and loosely understands the concept of value. Except she really doesn’t barter, she holds items hostage.

A bit of bread is worth one loose sock. But a bite of beef is worth stealing gaming controllers for. She never harms them; she just expects that she will be given hostage negotiations for it, and she’s right lol.

She also understands different people have different rules and roles to play, which isn’t exactly unique to smart breeds, but boy is it more obvious.

Mom spoils the heck out of her, so whenever mom is around she is pushy, demanding and generally like a whiny toddler. She knows mom will make her dreams come true to make her stop.

My fiancé is not very good at walking dogs, so when he walks her, she pulls and lunges and is generally recalcitrant.

But she was trained to walk and behave perfectly well, because she went to school to be a search and rescue dog. (She flunked out because she has too high a prey drive) She knows what a halter is, and also perfectly understands the words Heel, Halt, Leave It and Sit.

How do I know this?

Because I’m the only person who doesn’t let her get away with her nonsense. And she knows it. So she’s an absolute darling for me. I can brush her — mom can not. I can walk her just fine. Fiancé is slowly getting on with changing the tune, but mom can’t walk her at all.

The serious irony of this?

I rarely pet her. Like, ever. She’s gross to me (bathing has been a battle of wills with MIL) and I don’t like the wiry feeling of the coat. She used to be a feral dog, anyway, and actually doesn’t really care to be petted. So I don’t, unless she actually comes asking or if I get permission, which I pretty much never do. She is the least affectionate to me of anyone.

Yet she tolerates me more than anyone else. I’m not entirely sure why that is, but maybe it’s related. She puts on The Drama whenever mom or fiance tries to brush, walk, tend to injuries, or gods forbid cut the nails. But she’s weirdly patient and chill with me, and if there’s scary things happening, guess whose feet she sits on?

Guess I’ve been designated as The Adult lol my Fiance is The Brother and mom is The Gullible One

fun thing about herding and/or generally neurotic breeds: they are really good at following rules you have instituted, but they will also make their own Dog Rules they will follow stringently whether or not you like it

[gottencents]

Causal Pt.3 - Yu Jimin

part one | part two

pairing. mean girl!karina x star soccer player!reader

synopsis. at Changryeo University, Yu Jimin or just Karina is the ultimate “mean rich girl” — popular, wealthy, and always seeking ways to stay on top. After setting her sights on Sunghoon, the charming soccer captain, Karina shifts her focus to Y/N, an up-and-coming soccer star with an unexpected breakout season. Unlike the polished Sunghoon, Y/N is more of an outsider who got by on talent but doesn’t fit the typical college elite mold. Realizing that Y/N is the only one who doesn’t care about the social hierarchy, Karina proposes a deal: they’ll fake date so Karina can boost her popularity, while Y/N gets protection from relentless attention. Reluctantly, Y/N agrees, and the two navigate a world of social manipulation, only to find that their fake relationship might lead to something more real than either expected.

The transition from pretending to be Karina Yu’s girlfriend to actually being her girlfriend was… surprisingly seamless.

At least, on the surface.

Y/N had already grown used to Karina draping herself over her in public, the stolen sips of her drinks, the way Karina would slip her hand into Y/N’s like it was second nature. The world still watched them with fascination, whispering about how the fake couple had somehow become real, but the difference was that now—when Karina pulled her closer in crowded hallways or leaned in just a little too much when whispering in her ear—Y/N no longer had to remind herself not to flinch.

Because this was real now.

Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Y/N was still trying to wrap her head around it.

There was no grand confession, no cinematic moment where they looked at each other and decided this is it. Instead, one night, after an exhausting practice, Y/N had found Karina waiting outside the locker room, arms crossed and an unimpressed look on her face.

“You’re avoiding me,” Karina had said, skipping past any pleasantries.

Y/N had blinked at her, still toweling off sweat. “I just had practice?”

Karina had huffed. “You know what I mean.”

And Y/N had known.

She knew that ever since the gala, ever since Karina had let slip that she liked being around Y/N—not just for the act, not for the attention, but for real—something had shifted. And Y/N hadn’t known what to do with that shift, so she’d done what she always did: kept moving, kept distracting herself, kept running.

But Karina had cornered her that night, standing her ground with a determined look in her eyes.

“I like you,” she had said, like it wasn’t the scariest thing to admit. “And I think you like me too.”

Y/N had swallowed. “Karina—”

“No,” Karina had interrupted, stepping closer. “Don’t overthink it. Don’t overcomplicate it. Just… be mine.”

And Y/N, for once, had let herself stop running.

She had let Karina take her hand, let her pull her into something softer, something neither of them had planned for but both of them had somehow ended up in anyway.

Now, weeks later, Y/N was still adjusting to the weight of belonging to Karina Yu.

“You’re staring.”

Y/N snapped out of her thoughts to find Karina watching her, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips.

They were in Karina’s dorm, curled up on her bed. Karina was scrolling through her phone, Y/N was pretending to study, but in reality, she had spent the last five minutes just… looking at her.

“I wasn’t staring,” Y/N lied, flipping a page in her textbook.

Karina hummed. “You were.”

Y/N sighed, shutting her book. “Okay, maybe I was.”

Karina grinned, setting her phone aside. “Admit it, you’re obsessed with me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I just… I don’t know. You’re kind of nice to look at.”

Karina blinked, her usual teasing demeanor faltering for a split second. Then, quieter, “Oh.”

It was rare for Karina to be caught off guard. Y/N found herself holding her breath, watching as Karina tilted her head slightly, studying her in return.

Then, with a self-satisfied smirk, Karina leaned in, barely closing the space between them. “You know,” she murmured, her voice low, “if you wanted to kiss me, you could just do it.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered. “Who said anything about kissing?”

Karina chuckled. “You always think about kissing me.”

“Wow. Cocky much?”

Karina simply raised an eyebrow.

Y/N exhaled, feeling warmth creep up her neck. “Okay. Maybe I do.”

Karina’s smirk softened into something more genuine. “Then stop thinking so hard.”

Y/N didn’t. She just leaned in.

And for the first time, kissing Karina didn’t feel like a game or a performance. It just felt like them.

Falling into a relationship with Karina Yu wasn’t like flipping a switch. It wasn’t instant. It wasn’t easy.

It was something Y/N had to learn.

Because Karina wasn’t just the confident, untouchable queen of Changryeo University that everyone saw. She was sharp, yes—always teasing, always in control—but she was also infuriatingly particular. She had routines, quirks, and a certain way of doing things that Y/N hadn’t noticed before.

And now, being her girlfriend, Y/N was seeing all of them up close.

Y/N learned quickly that Karina was not a morning person.

Despite the effortless way she carried herself, Karina hated waking up early. She had an alarm set for 8:00 a.m. that she never obeyed. Y/N, who had early morning practice most days, would sometimes return to Karina’s dorm only to find her still buried under her blankets at 10 a.m., hair messy, refusing to acknowledge the existence of the outside world.

One morning, after practice, Y/N nudged her shoulder. “Karina, wake up.”

A groggy groan. “No.”

Y/N sighed, leaning over. “You have class in an hour.”

“I’ll get up in five minutes.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago.”

Another groan. Karina reached up blindly, wrapping her arms around Y/N’s waist, and dragged her down onto the bed.

Y/N yelped. “What the—Karina—”

“Stay,” Karina mumbled into her shoulder, voice still thick with sleep.

Y/N blinked, body stiff for a moment before relaxing. “…You’re impossible.”

Karina hummed, the smallest smile playing at her lips. “And yet, here you are.”

And just like that, Y/N lost the battle.

Being Karina Yu’s girlfriend in public meant attention.

Y/N thought she had gotten used to it, but she was wrong.

Because Karina had no problem with public displays of affection. If anything, she enjoyed it. The subtle way she’d link their fingers when they walked together, the way she’d tuck Y/N’s hair behind her ear in the middle of a conversation, the casual way she’d sling an arm around Y/N’s shoulders in the cafeteria like it was second nature.

Y/N, who wasn’t as accustomed to being openly affectionate, had to adjust.

One afternoon, they were standing outside a lecture hall when Karina suddenly leaned in, whispering, “Your collar’s messed up.”

Y/N barely had time to react before Karina’s hands were on her, smoothing out the fabric of her shirt.

Y/N felt warmth crawl up her neck. “I can fix my own collar, you know.”

Karina smirked. “But then I wouldn’t have an excuse to touch you.”

“Karina,” Y/N hissed, feeling the stares of passing students.

“What?” Karina said innocently, though her hand lingered against Y/N’s collarbone for a second too long before finally stepping back.

Y/N let out a breath. “You like doing this to me.”

Karina’s eyes glimmered with mischief. “Maybe.”

Y/N shook her head. “Unbelievable.”

But she didn’t push Karina away.

And Karina knew that.

Nights were different.

If Karina was difficult in the mornings and affectionate in public, then at night, when the world was quiet, she was something else entirely.

That was when Y/N got to see the Karina that no one else did.

The Karina who curled up against her while they watched a movie, tracing lazy circles against Y/N’s wrist with her fingers. The Karina who sometimes got lost in thought, staring at her phone like she was carrying the weight of something she couldn’t put into words.

The Karina who, despite all her confidence, had walls that Y/N was still learning how to climb.

One night, as they lay side by side on Karina’s bed, Y/N broke the comfortable silence.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Karina glanced at her, then back at the ceiling. “Just thinking.”

Y/N turned onto her side. “About what?”

Karina hesitated. Then, softer, “About how weird this is.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Karina shifted, finally meeting Y/N’s eyes. “Us. This. I wasn’t supposed to—” She stopped, exhaling. “I didn’t plan for this.”

Y/N felt something tighten in her chest. “Are you saying you regret it?”

Karina’s eyes widened slightly. “No. Not at all.”

Y/N searched her face. “Then what are you saying?”

Karina sighed, rolling onto her side so they were fully facing each other. “I’m saying… I don’t know how to do this. I know how to flirt, how to play the game, how to keep people at a distance.” A pause. “I don’t know how to be with someone. Not really.”

Y/N swallowed. “Then we figure it out together.”

Karina blinked.

Y/N reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. “We don’t have to be perfect. We just have to be us.”

Karina exhaled, her grip tightening slightly.

“…Okay.”

And in the dim light of the dorm, with only the quiet between them, Y/N realized that falling in love with Karina Yu wasn’t going to be some grand, dramatic event.

It was going to be a thousand small moments.

And Y/N wanted to be there for all of them.

Y/N had always been good at adapting.

On the field, it was second nature—adjusting to a last-minute change in formation, reading an opponent’s movements before they even made a play. She thrived in the unpredictability of the game.

But dating Karina Yu? That was an entirely different kind of challenge.

Karina was unpredictable in a way that made Y/N’s head spin. One moment, she was teasing, effortlessly confident, making Y/N flustered in the middle of the cafeteria. The next, she was closed off, keeping her thoughts to herself, like she wasn’t sure how much she was willing to share.

Y/N wasn’t sure how to navigate that yet. But she wanted to.

Because the more time she spent with Karina, the more she realized—beneath the confidence, the charm, the perfectly put-together image—Karina wasn’t as untouchable as she made herself seem.

And Y/N wanted to be the one who saw her. Not the Karina Yu that everyone else admired from afar, but the one who had walls and hesitations and insecurities, just like everyone else.

She just had to figure out how to get through to her.

It started with coffee.

Karina had developed a habit of waiting for Y/N after her morning practices, often showing up with an iced americano in hand like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Did you eat yet?” Karina asked one morning as she handed over the drink.

Y/N took it, raising an eyebrow. “Are you trying to parent me now?”

Karina smirked. “I prefer the term girlfriend duties.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“I know.” Karina gave her a pointed look. “But I want to.”

That part still caught Y/N off guard sometimes.

How effortlessly Karina fit herself into Y/N’s daily life. How she made herself present in the smallest ways—stealing Y/N’s hoodie when it got too cold, adjusting Y/N’s backpack strap as they walked together, sending a simple Good luck text before every game.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic. But it was intentional.

And Y/N was starting to realize that when Karina cared about someone, she didn’t do it halfway.

They sat in a corner of the café, the warm scent of coffee filling the air, as Y/N absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. Karina, on the other hand, was focused on stirring her drink, expression unusually thoughtful.

Y/N noticed immediately. “What’s up?”

Karina hummed, still looking at her coffee. “I was just thinking.”

Y/N waited, but Karina didn’t continue.

That was another thing she was learning—Karina wasn’t the type to spill her thoughts easily. If she hesitated, it usually meant she wasn’t sure if she should say something.

So instead of pressing, Y/N nudged her foot under the table. “Thinking about what?”

Karina finally glanced up, her lips twitching in amusement at Y/N’s persistence. “How you handle attention so well.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

Karina leaned back, crossing her arms. “Ever since we made this official, people have been watching us more. Talking more.” She tilted her head. “It doesn’t seem to bother you.”

Y/N thought about it for a moment. “I guess I’m used to it? Soccer games get pretty intense sometimes, and there’s always a crowd.” She shrugged. “It’s just noise to me now.”

Karina nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

Something about the way she said it made Y/N pause.

She studied Karina for a second before asking, “It does bother you, though.”

Karina exhaled, her fingers tapping against her cup. “It’s not the attention itself. I’ve had that my whole life.”

Y/N listened quietly.

Karina hesitated, then continued, “It’s just… different now. Because it’s about us.” She frowned slightly. “People aren’t just talking about me anymore. They’re talking about you, too. About us together.”

Y/N considered that. “And you don’t like it?”

“I don’t like that people think they know us,” Karina admitted. “That they think they understand what this is—what we are—when they don’t.”

Y/N felt something warm in her chest at that.

Because Karina wasn’t just talking about herself anymore. She was talking about them.

Y/N reached across the table, fingers brushing against Karina’s hand. “You know it doesn’t matter what they think, right?”

Karina’s gaze flickered to their hands before settling on Y/N’s face. “…I know.”

It was quiet, but it sounded like she was still trying to convince herself.

Y/N squeezed her hand once before letting go. “If it ever gets to be too much, tell me, okay?”

Karina’s lips parted slightly, almost like she hadn’t expected that.

“…Okay.”

And just like that, something between them shifted.

Y/N was starting to lose track of the number of nights Karina spent in her dorm.

It always happened naturally.

Karina would come over to “hang out,” which usually turned into her stealing Y/N’s bed while Y/N sat at her desk, finishing up assignments. Then, at some point, Karina would claim she was too tired to move and would just conveniently end up staying the night.

“Do you just not like your own bed?” Y/N asked one night, raising an eyebrow as Karina stretched out across her sheets like she owned them.

Karina smirked. “I like this bed.”

Y/N shook her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And yet, you let me stay,” Karina teased, rolling onto her side to look at her.

Y/N sighed, glancing at the time. “You’re impossible to kick out.”

Karina hummed in amusement but didn’t deny it.

They settled into a comfortable silence, the soft glow of Y/N’s desk lamp casting a warm light over the room.

Y/N, sitting cross-legged on the floor, stretched her arms above her head. “You’re stealing all my blankets again.”

Karina peeked over the edge of the bed. “Do you want me to share?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Do you actually mean that, or are you just going to wrap yourself in them tighter if I try?”

Karina grinned. “What do you think?”

Y/N groaned. “I should just sleep on the floor.”

Karina patted the empty space beside her. “Or, you could just come up here.”

Y/N hesitated.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t shared a bed before. But this was different. They were together now. And something about that made Y/N’s heartbeat pick up in a way she wasn’t ready to acknowledge yet.

But Karina just watched her, patient, waiting.

Finally, Y/N sighed and climbed in. “If you hog the blankets, I’m kicking you out,” she muttered.

Karina chuckled, adjusting the covers so Y/N had enough. “Noted.”

And as they lay there, close but not quite touching, Y/N realized something.

Maybe figuring out this whole relationship thing wasn’t about getting it perfect all at once.

Maybe it was about moments like this.

The quiet in-between.

The warmth of knowing that, no matter how complicated things got, they were figuring it out together.

Y/N wasn’t a morning person. At all.

So, when she walked into the campus café at 7:30 AM, groggy from practice and barely awake, the last thing she expected was to see Karina already sitting at their usual table, scrolling through her phone like she hadn’t just woken up fifteen minutes ago.

“You’re too awake for this time of day,” Y/N muttered, dropping into the seat across from her.

Karina smirked, sliding a cup of coffee toward her. “You’re just too grumpy.”

Y/N took the coffee without question, sipping it and sighing as the warmth spread through her chest. “This is the only reason I tolerate you.”

“I’ll take it,” Karina said, unbothered.

They fell into an easy silence, Karina focused on her phone while Y/N tried to force herself to function.

Then, Karina’s voice broke through the quiet. “I have a dinner thing next month.”

Y/N cracked an eye open. “Dinner thing?”

“My parents,” Karina clarified, tapping her nails against her cup. “They want to meet you.”

Y/N blinked, suddenly much more awake. “Wait. Like—actually meet me?”

Karina nodded, watching her carefully. “I said yes.”

Y/N stared at her, processing. She and Karina had only been officially together for a little while, and they were still figuring things out. Meeting Karina’s parents felt… big.

“I—” Y/N hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

Karina arched a brow. “Why?”

Y/N sighed. “Because you know how I am with people. And you know how people usually react to me. What if they don’t like me?”

Karina didn’t answer right away. Instead, she set her phone down and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “What if they do?”

Y/N let out a breath, shaking her head. “That’s not—”

Karina reached over, flicking her forehead lightly. “Stop overthinking.”

Y/N scowled, rubbing the spot. “I’m not—”

“You are,” Karina interrupted, smirking. “Look, I’m not saying you have to go. But if you do, I’ll be there. You don’t have to impress anyone, just be yourself.”

Y/N exhaled. It was easier said than done.

But Karina was looking at her like she already had her answer.

“…I’ll think about it,” Y/N finally said.

Karina smiled, satisfied. “Good.”

And just like that, the conversation shifted.

Later that week, they found themselves in the library. Y/N was buried in her textbook, half-listening as Karina absentmindedly scrolled through her laptop beside her.

“I don’t know why you even pretend to study with me,” Y/N muttered, highlighting a sentence.

Karina hummed. “Because you’re cute when you’re focused.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but felt her ears heat up. “That’s not productive.”

Karina turned her laptop screen toward her. “Fine. Want to help me pick an outfit for dinner?”

Y/N glanced at the endless tabs of designer dresses and suits. “You’re stressing about this more than I am.”

“I like to be prepared,” Karina said, as if that explained everything.

Y/N smirked. “And here I thought you just wanted to impress me.”

Karina’s lips twitched. “Do I need to impress you?”

Y/N shrugged, leaning back in her chair. “Wouldn’t hurt.”

Karina held her gaze for a moment before she closed her laptop and leaned forward, her voice lower. “Then tell me, Y/N. What would impress you?”

Y/N swallowed, caught off guard by the sudden shift in energy. It was moments like these—when Karina’s usual teasing softened just enough to make Y/N wonder if there was something deeper beneath it—that made her heart race.

“…Just be yourself,” Y/N said, repeating Karina’s own words back to her.

Karina blinked before a slow smile spread across her lips. “You’re getting better at this.”

Y/N shrugged, pretending to focus on her textbook again. “I learn from the best.”

Karina chuckled, and even though they went back to studying, the air between them felt warmer than before.

For all of Karina’s confidence, she wasn’t particularly good at waiting.

She had never needed to be. People bent around her, shaped themselves to fit her world. She dictated the pace of things—social circles, conversations, relationships. She decided how close people could get and when they had to step back.

But Y/N didn’t work that way.

She wasn’t something Karina could push and expect to move. She had her own rhythm, one that Karina had to learn to match.

So, she waited.

Not always patiently, but she tried.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Y/N’s voice broke through Karina’s thoughts. They were walking through campus together, Y/N balancing her bag over one shoulder while Karina strolled beside her with her hands in her pockets.

“Like what?” Karina asked, tilting her head.

“Like you’re waiting for me to do something.”

Karina smirked. “Maybe I am.”

Y/N shot her a wary glance. “What, exactly?”

Karina didn’t answer right away. Instead, she reached for Y/N’s arm, stopping her just outside the entrance to their next class.

“You’re still thinking about the dinner with my parents next month,” she said, watching Y/N carefully.

Y/N hesitated, shifting her weight. “I said I’d go.”

“That’s not the same as wanting to,” Karina pointed out.

Y/N exhaled through her nose, looking away. “It’s just… meeting parents is a big deal, you know? And you—” She glanced at Karina, then shook her head. “You have a certain image to maintain.”

Karina rolled her eyes. “You think I care about that?”

“You care about a lot of things you pretend not to.”

That made Karina pause. She blinked, caught off guard by how easily Y/N had read her.

“…Maybe,” Karina admitted after a moment.

Y/N looked at her then, and Karina recognized the expression—the careful calculation, the way she was holding back just enough to protect herself.

Karina sighed, letting go of Y/N’s arm. “You don’t have to prove anything, you know.”

Y/N looked at her for a long moment before nodding. “I know.”

Then, without another word, she walked into class.

Karina watched her go, the space between them feeling heavier than usual.

They were getting used to each other in new ways.

Y/N still needed her space sometimes. Karina had learned to recognize the signs—when Y/N tensed at too much attention, when she hesitated before answering a question, when she stayed quiet longer than usual.

Karina, for her part, still enjoyed pushing just enough to get a reaction. It was how she operated, how she kept people on their toes. But with Y/N, she had to be more careful, more deliberate.

Like now.

They were sitting on the couch in Karina’s dorm, Y/N flipping through her notes while Karina scrolled through her phone. It was one of those rare, quiet moments where nothing needed to be said.

And then Karina, because she could never resist, nudged Y/N’s leg with her foot.

Y/N barely looked up. “What.”

Karina smirked. “You’ve been here for almost an hour, and you haven’t kissed me yet.”

Y/N let out a slow breath, not even bothering to hide her exasperation. “I was supposed to?”

“Yes,” Karina said matter-of-factly. “That’s how this works.”

Y/N sighed, setting her notes down. “You’re impossible.”

Karina simply raised a brow.

And then, much to Karina’s surprise, Y/N leaned in, pressing a brief, warm kiss to the corner of her mouth before pulling back.

Karina blinked. “That was—”

“Now shut up so I can focus,” Y/N muttered, picking up her notes again.

Karina sat there, momentarily stunned, before a slow grin spread across her face.

Maybe waiting wasn’t so bad after all.

For all the ways they were learning to be together, there were still habits neither of them had figured out how to break.

Y/N wasn’t used to letting people in too easily. She was comfortable with the closeness that came from the soccer team—teammates slinging arms over her shoulders, shoving her around in celebration—but outside of that, personal space was something she guarded carefully.

Karina, on the other hand, was the opposite. She existed in other people’s spaces like she belonged there. She had no problem invading Y/N’s, touching her casually and often, making it feel like the most natural thing in the world.

But there were things Karina kept to herself, too. Things Y/N was only starting to notice.

“Stay over.”

It wasn’t really a request. Karina had said it casually, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like it was already decided.

Y/N, however, hesitated. “I have practice in the morning.”

Karina, lying on her bed in an oversized hoodie, gave her a look. ���So?”

Y/N shifted her weight. “So, I’ll have to wake up early.”

Karina rolled her eyes. “You wake up early anyway.”

“Yeah, but—” Y/N sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t usually stay over at people’s places.”

Karina sat up slightly, resting her weight on her elbows. “You stayed over last week.”

“That was different,” Y/N muttered.

Karina tilted her head. “How?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. The truth was, she had been exhausted that night—mentally, physically. It had been easy to fall asleep in Karina’s room when she was already drained. But doing it intentionally, knowing Karina wanted her to… that felt different.

Karina, watching her carefully, smirked. “Are you nervous?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

Karina sat up fully, scooting to the edge of the bed. “You are.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but Karina was already reaching for her wrist, tugging her closer until she stood between Karina’s legs.

“You know,” Karina said, her fingers brushing lightly against the hem of Y/N’s hoodie, “most girlfriends would love to stay the night.”

Y/N exhaled slowly. “You’re assuming I’m like most girlfriends.”

Karina hummed, resting her chin against Y/N’s stomach as she peered up at her. “No. You’re different.”

Y/N felt her face heat up but said nothing.

After a moment, Karina sighed dramatically and let go. “Fine. I won’t force you to stay.”

Y/N let out a quiet breath of relief. “Thank you.”

Karina flopped back onto her bed, stretching her arms over her head. “But I’ll make you eventually.”

Y/N shook her head, grabbing her bag. “Yeah, yeah.”

But as she walked out of the dorm, she wondered if Karina was right.

Maybe she would stay.

Eventually.

Y/N didn’t make a habit of hanging around campus when she didn’t have to. She was either on the field, at her dorm, or occasionally studying in the library when the team got too rowdy.

Karina, however, seemed to exist everywhere at once.

Y/N wasn’t sure how it happened, but their schedules had started overlapping more and more. Karina had a habit of showing up at Y/N’s practice with an iced coffee, sitting on the bleachers like she had nothing better to do.

“Don’t you have classes?” Y/N had asked once, jogging over to her during a water break.

Karina had simply smirked. “I make time for important things.”

Y/N had scoffed, but she hadn’t told Karina to leave.

Still, there were moments where Y/N felt the weight of it all—the sudden attention, the way people watched them, how her world had shifted ever since Karina had walked into it.

She still wasn’t used to people asking about her personal life. She wasn’t used to waking up to texts from someone who wasn’t her teammates.

And she definitely wasn’t used to the way Karina could throw her off balance so easily.

It was nearing midnight when Karina called.

Y/N had been half-asleep, her body sore from practice, but she picked up anyway.

“Why are you awake?” she mumbled.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Karina said. “So, entertain me.”

Y/N sighed. “That’s not how this works.”

“It is now.”

Y/N rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. “You’re impossible.”

Karina laughed softly, but then there was a pause.

“I meant it, you know,” Karina said after a moment.

Y/N blinked. “Meant what?”

“When I said I liked being around you.”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t sure how to.

Karina rarely said things like that without a teasing edge. But right now, in the quiet of the night, she sounded… sincere.

“…I know,” Y/N finally said.

Karina hummed. “Good.”

Neither of them hung up.

Y/N could hear Karina shifting in bed, the faint rustle of sheets. It was oddly comforting, knowing Karina was there, even if they weren’t speaking.

Eventually, Karina’s voice came through, quieter this time. “You don’t have to figure everything out right away.”

Y/N exhaled. “I know.”

Another pause.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“…Goodnight, Karina.”

And when Y/N finally fell asleep, she dreamed of someone pulling her closer, fingers brushing against hers, warmth lingering even after she woke.

For all the time they spent together, there were still moments when Y/N felt the space between them.

It wasn’t that things were bad—if anything, their relationship was moving forward, just at a pace neither of them fully understood. They spent time together, texted at odd hours, and somehow, Karina had managed to make herself a fixture in Y/N’s routine without her even noticing.

But there were still parts of themselves they didn’t know how to share yet.

Karina, for all her confidence and control, still disappeared sometimes. She was used to keeping things on her terms, deciding when and how people got access to her. Y/N had learned not to question it.

And Y/N—well, she wasn’t exactly great at talking about feelings.

So, they hovered somewhere between comfort and uncertainty, both of them waiting to see who would push first.

Y/N had barely gotten three steps into the cafeteria before she spotted Karina sitting at their usual table, scrolling through her phone.

She hesitated. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sit with Karina, but something about seeing her outside their usual late-night conversations or practice visits made it feel different. More real.

Karina must have sensed her pause because she looked up, catching Y/N’s eye before smirking. “You’re thinking too hard again.”

Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair as she approached. “I just woke up. Let me have a moment.”

Karina rested her chin on her hand, watching her. “Rough night?”

Y/N dropped her tray onto the table with a small thud. “Practice ran late.”

Karina hummed, eyes flickering over Y/N’s face. “Did you eat?”

Y/N frowned. “What?”

“Last night,” Karina said. “You were exhausted. Did you eat after practice?”

Y/N hesitated, which was answer enough.

Karina clicked her tongue, pushing a plate toward her. “Here.”

Y/N blinked at the plate—toast, scrambled eggs, and some fruit—before looking back at Karina. “Did you—?”

Karina smirked. “I figured you’d forget.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to say to that. She wasn’t used to people noticing things like that.

So, instead of making a big deal out of it, she just muttered, “Thanks,” and started eating.

Karina watched her for a moment before returning to her phone, a small, satisfied smile playing at her lips.

Later that evening, they found themselves in Y/N’s dorm, the TV playing some random movie in the background while Karina scrolled through her phone and Y/N stretched out on her bed.

It was comfortable, easy in a way that should have felt strange but didn’t.

“You’re quiet today,” Karina said suddenly, not looking up.

Y/N, lying on her stomach, propped herself up on her elbows. “I don’t talk just to fill space.”

Karina smirked. “I know. But usually, you at least complain about something.”

Y/N huffed. “You want me to complain?”

“I want you to talk to me.”

Y/N frowned, shifting onto her side. “I do talk to you.”

Karina finally put her phone down, resting her head against her hand as she looked at Y/N. “Yeah, but not about real things.”

Y/N felt herself tense slightly.

It wasn’t like she was trying to hide anything. She just… wasn’t used to talking about herself unless it was necessary.

Karina must have noticed the hesitation because she leaned in slightly, voice softer now. “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. But I want to know you, Y/N. Not just the parts you show everyone else.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. “…I’m not good at this.”

Karina’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know.”

Silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.

Eventually, Karina shifted closer, close enough that their shoulders brushed.

“You don’t have to figure it all out at once,” she murmured.

Y/N turned her head, meeting Karina’s gaze.

There was something in her expression—something patient, understanding, but also quietly stubborn. Like she wasn’t going anywhere.

And for the first time, Y/N thought that maybe, just maybe, that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

Y/N wasn’t blind to effort—not when it came to Karina.

She noticed the way Karina adjusted her schedule just to match hers, how she made a point to show up for things that weren’t remotely interesting to her, like standing around in the cold after Y/N’s practice just to hand her a water bottle. She noticed how Karina paid attention, even in the smallest ways—reminding her of due dates she had barely glanced at, fixing the collar of her jersey without saying a word, making it look so effortless, like she was built to be the kind of person who always knew what to do.

And Y/N?

She wasn’t sure if she was putting in the same effort. Or if she even knew how.

It wasn’t that she didn’t care—because she did, maybe more than she wanted to admit. It was just that Karina made things seem so easy, and Y/N wasn’t used to… trying like this. Not in relationships. Not in ways that required thinking about someone else constantly, not in ways that meant adjusting her habits to make room for another person.

But she figured if Karina was willing to do so much for them, then the least she could do was try.

The only problem was that she had no idea where to start.

Y/N had been paying attention. She knew Karina had a habit of drinking coffee at the same time every day—one in the morning before class and another in the afternoon when the exhaustion started creeping in. She never complained about it, never acted tired, but Y/N saw the way her fingers tapped idly against the desk, the way she zoned out when she thought no one was looking.

So, on impulse, Y/N decided to bring her coffee. It wasn’t a big deal—just something small to say she was thinking about her.

What she hadn’t accounted for was that she had no clue what Karina actually drank.

Standing in line at the campus café, she stared at the menu like it would magically give her an answer. Karina seemed like the type to like something smooth, maybe sweet, but not overwhelmingly so. Definitely not black coffee—that didn’t match her at all.

By the time she got to the counter, she hesitated before blurting out, “A vanilla oat milk latte.”

It felt like the safest option.

She found Karina in their usual lecture hall, already seated, scrolling through her phone. Y/N slid into the seat next to her and placed the cup on the desk without a word.

Karina glanced at it, then at Y/N, a knowing smirk forming on her lips. She picked up the cup, examining it like it was some kind of rare artifact.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said, but there was something amused in her voice.

Y/N shrugged, playing it off. “It’s whatever.”

Karina took a sip, then raised an eyebrow. “Vanilla oat milk latte?”

Y/N tensed. “Is that not what you drink?”

Karina tilted her head, expression unreadable for a second, before she smiled. “No, it’s exactly what I drink.”

Y/N exhaled, relieved. Karina just laughed under her breath before turning her attention back to the front of the lecture hall, sipping the coffee like she was savoring it more than usual.

Y/N wasn’t great at words. She wasn’t the type to come up with things to say that made people feel special, and she wasn’t naturally affectionate. But she was good at paying attention.

So, when she saw that Karina’s phone charger was barely holding itself together, she bought her a new one. When Karina left her laptop charger behind in the library, Y/N plugged it in before she even realized it was low.

She never pointed it out, never made a big deal about it. Maybe Karina didn’t even notice.

But Y/N liked the idea that even if she wasn’t sure how to say things properly, she could still show them.

The two of them sat in Y/N’s dorm, Karina curled up on the bed with a book while Y/N absentmindedly scrolled through her phone. It was a comfortable silence, not awkward, but Y/N could feel something lingering beneath it.

Karina had never asked her to change. She had never demanded anything from her. But she had given so much—of her time, her patience, her effort.

And Y/N had never really acknowledged it.

Setting her phone down, she exhaled. “I appreciate you.”

Karina looked up from her book, eyes flicking to Y/N with mild amusement. “Oh?”

Y/N cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I mean, you do a lot. For us. And I just—I don’t know. I don’t say things like this, but I wanted to.”

Karina’s smirk softened into something quieter. She closed her book, setting it aside before leaning in just slightly. “I know.”

Y/N frowned. “You do?”

Karina nodded, watching her closely. “You think I haven’t noticed?”

Y/N wasn’t sure what to say to that. She had spent so much time worrying about whether she was doing enough, whether Karina felt like she was the only one making an effort. But now, sitting here, seeing the way Karina looked at her—not with expectation, but with quiet understanding—she realized that maybe trying, even in small ways, was enough.

Karina reached out, her fingers brushing against Y/N’s wrist before gently lacing them together. Her touch was light, like she was waiting to see if Y/N would pull away.

But Y/N didn’t.

“You don’t have to figure everything out right away,” Karina murmured. “I like you as you are.”

Y/N swallowed, looking down at their hands, then back at Karina.

“Yeah,” she admitted, her voice quieter. “You too.”

Karina’s lips quirked up just slightly before she gave Y/N’s fingers a small squeeze.

“Good.”

And somehow, in that moment, the space between them felt just a little smaller.

The days that followed felt like the space between them was slowly getting smaller. It wasn’t anything drastic—there were no big, bold gestures, no fireworks—but it was enough. Enough for Y/N to realize that she didn’t need to rush into figuring out everything with Karina. Not everything had to be perfect, and she didn’t have to have all the answers.

It was the little things. The glances shared when they were in class, the way their hands brushed when they sat side by side in the library, the moments where Karina would give her a small smile that seemed to say, “I get you.” There was no pressure to be anyone other than who they were—no grand declarations or expectations. It felt natural. Real.

But there were still moments where Y/N felt a little lost.

Karina was effortlessly confident, always certain of herself, always the one who knew exactly what to say, what to do. Y/N, on the other hand, was still learning—still figuring out how to be in a relationship without feeling like she had to play catch-up.

It was late one night when she found herself lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Karina was sitting on the edge of the bed, her phone in hand as she scrolled through something, her hair falling in soft waves over her shoulders. There was a comfort in the silence, but also a lingering tension. Y/N wasn’t sure what it was, but it was there.

Karina must’ve felt it too, because after a moment, she put her phone down and turned toward her.

“You okay?” Karina asked, her voice softer than usual.

Y/N blinked, momentarily startled by the question. She had been so caught up in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized how quiet the room had gotten. She nodded, but Karina’s eyes weren’t fooled.

“I’m fine,” Y/N said, not quite meeting Karina’s gaze. “Just thinking.”

Karina didn’t press further, though Y/N could feel the weight of her attention. She knew Karina could tell when something was off. It was one of those things about her—Karina was perceptive, always noticing things that no one else did.

“Wanna talk about it?” Karina asked after a pause.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if she even had the words to explain what was on her mind. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I think I’m just… trying to figure out how to be this person you need me to be. You know?”

Karina’s expression softened, and she moved to sit next to Y/N, her presence close but not overbearing. “You don’t have to be anyone other than who you are,” she said quietly. “I like you the way you are.”

Y/N glanced at her, meeting her gaze for the first time that night. “But I don’t want to disappoint you,” she admitted.

Karina reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear. “You’re not going to disappoint me.”

The simple touch was enough to calm the nervous flutter in Y/N’s chest. There was something about Karina—something that made Y/N feel like she could breathe, even when she felt uncertain.

“I’m just…” Y/N started again, unsure how to put it into words. “I don’t want to be the one who’s always just… waiting for you to make things happen. I want to show up for you too.”

Karina smiled softly. “You do,” she said, her voice warm and reassuring. “You’re showing up right now.”

Y/N didn’t know if she could find the right words to explain how much that meant to her. All she could do was reach out and take Karina’s hand, intertwining their fingers, feeling the warmth of her touch. It wasn’t some grand gesture, but in that moment, it felt like the most important thing.

“Thanks,” Y/N said quietly.

Karina didn’t respond right away. Instead, she gave her hand a gentle squeeze, her eyes soft but knowing. There was no need to say anything else. They understood each other in a way that didn’t require words.

And as they sat there in the quiet, Y/N realized that sometimes, just being with someone—being present—was enough. It didn’t have to be perfect, it didn’t have to be fast. It could just be them, figuring things out together, one small step at a time.

That was the kind of love she could learn to trust.

The next day, Y/N found herself outside of the library, waiting for Karina, as usual. The sun was starting to set, casting a soft glow over the campus, and Y/N leaned against the brick wall, tapping her foot idly as she checked her phone.

She didn’t notice Karina approaching until she was right beside her.

“Hey,” Karina greeted her casually, her voice easy and smooth as always.

Y/N looked up, offering a small smile. “Hey.”

“I was thinking,” Karina started, her tone a little more thoughtful than usual. “We haven’t had much time just to hang out. Like, just the two of us, no distractions, no obligations.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What are you proposing, then?”

Karina shrugged, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I was thinking about grabbing dinner. No fancy places. Just something simple. You know, like a date.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She wasn’t used to the idea of dates, of planning out things like that—especially not with someone like Karina, who had always seemed like she was in control of everything.

But there was something about Karina’s offer that felt easy. Natural.

“Okay,” Y/N said with a small nod. “I think I can do that.”

Karina’s smile softened, her eyes gleaming with something unspoken.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And right then, that was enough.

As they walked side by side, talking about nothing and everything all at once, Y/N realized that this—this quiet, slow pace of getting to know each other—was exactly what she needed. It wasn’t fast, it wasn’t flashy, but it was something that felt like it could last.

And for the first time in a long time, Y/N wasn’t worried about what came next. She was just happy to be right there, with Karina by her side.

The evening had arrived much sooner than Y/N expected, and as she stood in front of her mirror, adjusting her outfit for what she told herself would just be another casual dinner, she couldn’t shake the sense that something felt different. Karina had been hinting at this dinner for days now, and although Y/N had convinced herself it was just another one of Karina’s spontaneous plans, she had the nagging feeling it meant more than that.

The plan had started simple enough: Karina suggested they grab dinner after their classes. Nothing fancy, just something to take a break from the hectic rhythm of university life. But somehow, the dinner turned into something Y/N had come to see as a rare and special opportunity—an opportunity to understand more of what was between them, and to figure out how they worked together in this growing, awkwardly comfortable relationship.

Y/N finished adjusting her shirt and reached for her phone to check the time. 7:15 PM. Karina was supposed to be here in 15 minutes, and yet Y/N found herself with a familiar anxiety, even though the night had started off as nothing out of the ordinary. She paced around her room, trying to keep her nerves in check.

When the knock came at her door, Y/N didn’t expect the slight jolt of excitement that went through her. She straightened herself out, trying not to look too eager as she swung the door open.

Standing in front of her was Karina, as effortlessly stunning as always. Her outfit was casual but looked effortlessly put together, and her hair framed her face with an air of soft carelessness. She smiled when she saw Y/N, a small, knowing smirk playing at the edges of her lips.

“Ready?” Karina asked, her voice light and teasing.

Y/N nodded, trying to hide the flustered feeling rising in her chest. “Yeah. You’re on time.”

“Of course,” Karina replied, stepping inside. “I wouldn’t dare be late for our dinner.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. There was something in the way she said “our,” something casual but intimate, as if they had been doing this for years.

The night air was cool as they made their way to the restaurant. Karina kept the conversation light, asking about classes, joking about professors, and making Y/N laugh in that effortless way she always seemed to manage. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how comfortable they were, and yet, a part of her still felt like she was walking on eggshells.

When they arrived, the restaurant was warm and inviting, with soft lighting and the kind of ambiance that felt both private and casual. It wasn’t too fancy, but it wasn’t just any place either. Karina had picked this spot carefully, and Y/N appreciated the effort. They were led to a cozy corner booth by the window, where the world outside seemed distant and irrelevant.

As they sat down, Y/N caught herself stealing glances at Karina. There was something different in the air tonight—a kind of tenderness that Y/N wasn’t entirely used to.

“So, what’s this really about?” Y/N finally asked, the question slipping out before she could stop herself.

Karina raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. “What do you mean?”

Y/N shrugged. “You’ve been acting kind of… different lately. Not in a bad way,” she quickly added, “Just, I don’t know. Thought maybe there was something else going on.”

Karina’s lips curled into a slight smile, her eyes glinting with something Y/N couldn’t quite place. “I guess I’ve been thinking a lot. About us. About what we’re doing here.” She paused, taking a breath as though deciding how to continue. “I want you to know that I’m putting effort into this. Into us. And I don’t want you to think I’m taking it lightly.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Karina’s voice. She wasn’t used to hearing her speak this way—so open, so vulnerable. It was like a different side of Karina was showing, one that Y/N hadn’t really seen before.

“I don’t think you’re taking it lightly,” Y/N replied quietly, her gaze softening. “I just… I guess I don’t always know how to keep up.”

Karina tilted her head, her expression softening. “I get it,” she said, her voice gentle. “I know I’m not easy to keep up with. But I don’t need you to be anything you’re not. I just want to be with you, however we figure this out.”

Y/N looked down at her menu, trying to focus on something other than the fluttering sensation in her chest. She felt conflicted—there was a part of her that wanted to lean into this, to let herself be swept up in the idea of what could be. But another part of her—one she had buried for so long—was cautious. Protective. She was used to handling things on her own, to keeping people at arm’s length.

“I’m trying, you know?” Y/N said, her voice quieter now. “It’s just… I’ve never really done this. Let anyone in like this.”

Karina reached across the table, her fingers brushing Y/N’s lightly. The gesture was small, almost casual, but it carried an understanding that made Y/N look up.

“You don’t have to do anything alone anymore,” Karina said softly. “You don’t have to figure everything out right away. I’m here.”

Y/N felt the weight of her words, and for the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of relief. There was something comforting about knowing Karina wasn’t asking for perfection, wasn’t asking for all of her—just the pieces Y/N was willing to share.

The waiter arrived to take their orders, and for a while, they settled into a more familiar rhythm—conversation flowing easily as they ordered their food and shared small moments of laughter. The tension from earlier had melted away, replaced by an easy, comfortable silence that felt more like understanding than anything else.

As the night went on, Y/N found herself enjoying this side of Karina, the softer side that she had always tried to keep hidden behind her confident exterior. She hadn’t expected Karina to be so… patient. So real.

By the time dessert arrived, the two of them had relaxed into a comfortable silence again, occasionally exchanging glances and small smiles. They didn’t need to say much to communicate. It was the kind of unspoken understanding that spoke louder than any words could.

As the evening came to a close, Karina stood and offered her hand to Y/N, her usual playful smirk back in place. “Ready to go?” she asked, her tone teasing but with a hint of something warmer beneath it.

Y/N smiled, taking her hand without hesitation. “Yeah, I think I’m ready.”

The night wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t need to be. In this moment, it felt enough. The quiet understanding between them was more than enough. And for the first time in a long time, Y/N realized she didn’t have to figure everything out. Not right now. Not tonight.

And with that, as they walked out of the restaurant, hand in hand, Y/N felt like they were both figuring it out together.

The weeks continued to pass in a blur of routines and moments that felt, in hindsight, far more significant than they initially appeared. Y/N’s relationship with Karina had begun to take shape in a way that felt natural, though it was far from perfect. There were still times where Y/N would retreat into her old habits, times when the walls she had built around herself would rise up without warning. But Karina always seemed to understand, always patient, always giving her the space to breathe, to find her footing.

That Saturday, Karina invited Y/N to join her at a nearby park. It wasn’t a fancy dinner or anything extravagant—just a simple walk through the paths lined with trees. Y/N didn’t know what it was about the invitation that made it feel different. It wasn’t something big, but there was something comforting about it. A sense of quiet intimacy that felt more real than any of their previous dates.

Y/N arrived a little early, walking up to the park’s entrance and taking in the peaceful atmosphere. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the park, the air crisp but not too cold. She found a bench under a large tree and sat down, checking her phone for messages, but mostly just killing time. There was something about the stillness of the park that calmed her, a place where her thoughts could settle in the quiet.

Karina appeared a few minutes later, her familiar figure walking down the path with her usual confident stride. When she spotted Y/N, her face lit up, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“You’re early,” Karina remarked, stopping in front of the bench.

“Guess I was excited to get out of the house,” Y/N replied, her voice light, though there was a quietness in it too. The words felt like a little bit of honesty slipping through.

Karina raised an eyebrow. “You? Excited? That’s a first.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but the smile that tugged at her lips made her words feel lighter than they usually did. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.”

Karina sat down next to her, close enough that their arms brushed. There was no immediate rush to speak, no tension in the air. They both settled into the quiet together, the sound of leaves rustling in the wind filling the space between them. It was moments like this, small and simple, that made Y/N feel like she could just… be.

“What’s on your mind?” Karina asked, her voice low, but not intrusive. It was the same gentle curiosity she always held, as if she truly wanted to know.

Y/N hesitated for a moment. She hadn’t realized how often she had been avoiding her own thoughts lately, or how much she had been holding back in this relationship. But Karina’s presence made it harder to ignore the things that weighed on her, and tonight, it felt like she could at least start to voice them.

“I guess… I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Y/N admitted, glancing over at Karina. “And how we’re doing. How I’m doing.”

Karina didn’t say anything at first, just nodded as if giving Y/N the space to continue, her expression calm and unreadable.

Y/N swallowed, gathering her thoughts. “I’m… not used to this. Not used to having this, you know?” She gestured between them, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Having someone to be with. Someone who actually wants to be with me.”

Karina’s gaze softened. She shifted closer, leaning slightly in Y/N’s direction. “You’re not alone, you know? Not anymore.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat at the quiet sincerity in Karina’s voice. Her first instinct was to push it away, to doubt the words. But somehow, hearing them from Karina felt different. For the first time, she let herself consider that maybe she didn’t have to keep everything locked away.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Y/N confessed quietly, her fingers curling around the fabric of her jacket as if grounding herself in the moment. “I don’t know how to just… be with someone, without trying to protect myself or run when things get too close. I don’t know how to trust like this.”

Karina was quiet for a moment, as if processing Y/N’s words, and then, without a word, reached out and placed her hand gently over Y/N’s. The simple act of it felt grounding in a way nothing else had. There was no rush, no urgency in Karina’s touch—just a quiet reassurance that she was there, present, in a way that made everything seem a little easier.

“You don’t have to have it all figured out,” Karina said, her voice soft. “You just have to be willing to try. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at her words. She had heard similar things before, but the way Karina said it felt like a promise—a quiet, unspoken bond forming between them. It wasn’t about perfection. It wasn’t about having it all together. It was just about being there for each other, one step at a time.

The silence that followed was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. Karina’s hand stayed on top of Y/N’s, warm and steady. Y/N didn’t pull away. She didn’t feel the need to. For once, the walls around her didn’t feel like a necessity. Maybe they were still there, buried just beneath the surface, but Karina’s presence made them feel less… important.

“You make it sound easy,” Y/N muttered, the corner of her mouth tugging up into a soft smile.

Karina chuckled, her thumb lightly brushing across the back of Y/N’s hand. “I know it’s not easy. But we’re figuring it out, right? One step at a time.”

Y/N nodded, the words sinking in. Maybe it wouldn’t be perfect. Maybe they wouldn’t have all the answers immediately. But they were willing to keep trying. Together.

As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the park, Y/N felt a quiet peace settle over her. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel so afraid of what might come next. Because in this moment, with Karina by her side, everything seemed like it was heading in the right direction. One small step at a time.

And for once, that was enough.

It was a pace Y/N could get used to—slow, yet meaningful. They would meet between classes, grab lunch when they could, and spend time together in a way that didn’t feel forced. But still, there was the underlying question of what came next. What would it mean to actually be together? To make this work beyond just late-night talks and stolen moments?

The answer seemed to come when Karina casually mentioned one evening, “My parents are coming to visit this weekend.”

Y/N blinked, unsure if she’d heard correctly. “Wait, what already ?”

Karina shrugged as she sat down next to Y/N on the couch, her usual playful smile softened with something more serious. “ They’re curious. And you’re important to me, so… I figured it’s about time you meet them.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, her mind racing. Meeting Karina’s parents was a big step, one that felt like it came out of nowhere. They’d only been dating for a two months, and although they’d spent plenty of time getting to know each other, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that meeting Karina’s parents was something… monumental.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, her voice uncertain. “What if they think I’m not good enough for you?”

Karina’s expression softened, and she placed a hand on Y/N’s. “Don’t overthink it, Y/N. They’re not like that. Trust me. My parents just want to meet the person I’m serious about.”

Y/N hesitated, still unsure. Meeting parents wasn’t something she’d done often, and she wasn’t exactly the most polished person in these kinds of situations. But at the same time, she wanted to show Karina that she was committed, that she was ready to take steps forward, even if it felt intimidating.

“I’ll do my best,” Y/N said finally, her voice firming up as she gave Karina a small, uncertain smile.

Karina grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Y/N’s cheek. “That’s all I’m asking for. You’ll do great.”

The weekend arrived faster than Y/N expected, and with it came the anticipation of meeting Karina’s parents. She spent the morning pacing around her apartment, overthinking every possible detail. What would she wear? What if she said something wrong? Would they like her?

Finally, after much internal debate, Y/N settled on a simple but elegant outfit—nothing too fancy, but enough to feel like she was putting in some effort. Her phone buzzed just as she was about to head out the door. It was Karina.

“Hey, I’ll pick you up in 10 minutes. Don’t be nervous. Just be yourself. I’m sure they’ll love you.”

Y/N smiled at the message, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness flood through her. She quickly grabbed her jacket and keys, trying to calm the flutter in her chest. She couldn’t help but feel like this was a bigger deal than she wanted to admit.

When Karina arrived, she greeted Y/N with that same warm smile she always wore, her energy lifting the tension in the room as soon as she stepped through the door. “You look great,” Karina said with a grin, her eyes scanning Y/N up and down before meeting her gaze.

Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You look amazing as usual, but thanks.”

Karina’s lips curled into a small smile. “Ready for this?”

Y/N took a deep breath. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Karina’s parents lived in a spacious house on the outskirts of town, one that looked more like something out of a magazine than a family home. The drive was short, and soon enough, they were pulling up to the house. The large windows glowed warmly in the late afternoon sunlight, and the entire place seemed to radiate a sense of calm and stability.

As they stepped out of the car, Y/N could feel her heart racing again, her nerves bubbling up to the surface despite her attempts to calm herself. Karina must have noticed because she slid her hand into Y/N’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Hey, remember what I said. Just be you. That’s all I want.”

Y/N nodded, squeezing Karina’s hand back. “I’ll try. But no promises.”

Karina laughed, her voice soft. “I’m not asking for perfection, Y/N. Just you.”

Together, they walked up to the front door, and Karina knocked three times before stepping back, a slight smile playing on her lips. The door opened almost immediately, revealing Karina’s mother, a tall, graceful woman who looked like she belonged in a high-end fashion magazine. Her face softened when she saw Karina, and she quickly embraced her daughter in a warm hug.

“You made it,” she said, pulling away with a smile before her gaze flickered to Y/N. “And this must be Y/N.”

Y/N felt her throat tighten. She was smiling, but she could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. Karina’s mom was beautiful, confident, and elegant—everything Y/N felt she was not.

Y/N held out her hand, doing her best to appear calm. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

Karina’s mom looked at her hand for a second before smiling warmly, taking it in her own. “The pleasure’s mine, dear. Karina has told us so much about you.”

Y/N glanced at Karina, who was standing just behind her, her eyes soft as she watched the interaction. “I hope it was all good things,” Y/N said, trying to make light of her nerves.

“Oh, of course,” Karina’s mom replied with a slight chuckle. “Now, come in. Your father’s just finishing up with dinner. We’ll all have a nice meal together.”

Y/N smiled nervously as she stepped into the house, looking around at the pristine décor, the warmth of the home contrasting with the more formal, almost corporate feel she had expected. It was the kind of house that made her feel small, almost out of place, but Karina was there with her—her presence grounding, her hand still firmly holding onto Y/N’s as they moved into the spacious dining room.

Karina’s father, a tall, imposing man with salt-and-pepper hair, stood when they entered the room. His demeanor was calm but sharp, his eyes assessing as they both greeted him. The tension in the air was almost tangible, but Karina’s smile never wavered, and Y/N found herself drawn into that warmth, into that safe space Karina had created around her.

“Y/N, right?” Karina’s father asked, his voice deep but not unkind. He extended his hand to shake hers, his grip firm but not threatening.

“That’s me,” Y/N said, smiling as best as she could, her nerves still bubbling just below the surface.

“Well, I’m glad to finally meet you. Karina has spoken highly of you. It’s rare that she talks about someone like this.”

Y/N glanced at Karina, who was looking at her with a slight, knowing smile. It felt reassuring, hearing that Karina had mentioned her in such a positive light. Still, meeting her parents was a whole new level of pressure, and Y/N couldn’t help but feel the weight of it.

Dinner was an awkward affair at first. There were polite smiles, small talk, and the usual questions about school, what Y/N was studying, and how she was adjusting to university life. But with each passing moment, Y/N found herself relaxing a little more. Karina’s mom was warm, easy to talk to, and her dad, despite his intimidating appearance, seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. Slowly, the nerves began to fade, replaced by a growing sense of comfort.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And as the evening wore on, Y/N found herself laughing at stories Karina’s parents shared, getting drawn into the natural rhythm of their conversations. Karina’s dad cracked jokes about her childhood, and her mom added in her own observations, teasing Karina in ways that made Y/N smile—realizing just how much of who Karina was had been shaped by this family.

By the end of the evening, as they stood to leave, Karina’s mom pulled Y/N aside, a soft smile on her face. “Thank you for coming. You were lovely. And Karina—well, she’s never been so happy. That’s all I ever want for her.”

Y/N’s chest warmed at the words. “I’m glad. And thank you for having me.”

Karina’s mom gave her a wink as they walked out the door. “Anytime, Y/N. Don’t be a stranger.”

As Y/N stepped back into the cool night air, Karina’s hand slipped into hers once more, the two of them walking side by side toward the car.

“You did great,” Karina said, her voice low and warm.

Y/N smiled, feeling like she had just survived a test she hadn’t known she was taking. “Thanks. Your parents are nice.”

“They liked you,” Karina said with a smile. “And that’s what matters.”

Y/N looked over at Karina, seeing the sincerity in her eyes, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like they were two separate worlds colliding. It felt like they were finally beginning to carve out a space for themselves—one where they didn’t have to question their place.

And maybe that was the most comforting feeling of all.

[sosasturns]

bad ideas & good distractions - c. sturniolo

fic, part one of bed chem… next door neighbor!chris x beauty influencer!reader

the first time you notice the moving boxes in the hallway, you don’t think much of it.

it’s a nice apartment building, and people come and go all the time. besides, you’re too busy editing a new video to care about whoever’s moving in.

then, later that night, it starts.

the music.

so loud it rattles your walls, pulsing through your head as you stare at your laptop screen. you try to ignore it, try to focus, but the bass is relentless.

eventually, you sigh, shut your laptop, and crawl into bed, hoping it stops soon.

it doesn’t.

this continues for the next few nights—loud ass music, doors slamming, voices in the hallway. annoying as hell, but not enough to make you confront your new neighbor.

until one night, around 1 a.m., when it’s actually a full-blown party.

laughter, shouting, people stumbling up and down the hall like they pay rent here.

you lay in bed, glaring at the ceiling, seething.

what the hell is his problem?

but instead of doing anything about it, you toss and turn, forcing yourself to sleep.

the next morning, you’re filming a get ready with me for an upcoming event, sitting at your vanity, blending concealer under your eyes.

“i did not sleep last night,” you say, “my new neighbor—who, by the way, i have not met yet—thinks my apartment complex is a frat house, apparently.”

you shake your head, dabbing in more product. “anyway, i’m going to this event later, so let’s fix my face and act like i’m not sleep deprived as hell.”

you post the video and go about your day, shoving the whole situation to the back of your mind.

but that night, when the music starts up again, you’re done.

at first, you try to ignore it, sipping on a glass of white wine as you edit a brand deal video, but then there’s moaning. loud, exaggerated, fake as hell.

you slam your laptop shut.

this motherfucker has lost his mind.

you storm into the hall, crossing your arms as you knock on his door, loud as hell.

the music doesn’t stop, but the door swings open a moment later.

and that’s the first time you see him.

low sweats. shirtless. hair slightly messy.

he leans against the doorframe, eyes dragging over you—your heartless hair curlers. pink pajama set. silk robe. fluffy slippers. the sleep-deprived glare on your face.

you looked like you just woke up from a slumber on twenty mattresses and still felt the damn pea.

then he smirks. “cute pajamas.”

you shift your weight onto your hip, unamused. “most people on this floor are in bed sleeping right now.”

his smirk deepens. “clearly, i’m not most.”

your eye twitches. “turn the music down. and the fake ass moaning, too.”

he chuckles.

you wait. “so?”

he shrugs, barely moving. “i’ll think about it.”

oh, you hate him.

“whatever.” you spin on your heel, stomping back to your apartment and slamming the door behind you.

the next morning, your head is pounding, but you push through and meet your girls for brunch.

“babe,” one of them says, stirring her mimosa. “you look rough.”

you sigh, stabbing your eggs. “my new neighbor is a fucking menace.”

they lean in. “spill.”

so you do.

you tell them about the loud music, the party, the smug ass smirk.

they listen, nodding along, sharing their own bad neighbor horror stories.

but one of them grins. “he’s hot, though, right?”

you hesitate. “that’s not the point.”

“but he is, isn’t he?”

you purse your lips, sipping your mimosa. “whatever.”

they laugh. “oh, you so think he’s hot.”

you don’t answer.

but you don’t deny it, either.

a few days pass, and you avoid him.

not hard to do.

but the thought of him lingers, especially late at night, especially when you’re in bed, mind wandering.

he’s just a guy.

just your annoying ass neighbor.

but you can’t stop thinking about his voice, his smirk, the way he leaned in the doorway—

get it together.

except you can’t.

and eventually, you come to terms with it.

it could just be a singular fuck. nothing more.

just something to scratch the itch.

so, one night, against your better judgment, you grab your keys, take a breath, and step out into the hall.

heading straight for his door.

@ sosasturns

part two 02.14

sosa mafia taglist: @submattenthusiast @sophand4n4 @secretlocket @mrsdillonx @ch6rm @sweetrelieef @gabri3la-sturns @inspiredangel @sturn777 @et6rnalsun @faiyaz555 @whore4mattsturniolo @courta13 @katie-tibo @ifwdominicfike @raesturns @adoremattsturns @conspiracy-ash @chrisslut04 @ily-tothemoonandback

+ @riasturns @angelic-sturniolos111 @cinnqmonsw1rl @blushsturns @fratbrochrisgf

[reiding-writing]

in my head cold!reader fs has her silly moments because she’s a funny gal!!! she just hides it 😞 i also would love to see them all go ice skating because they tease her about being an ice princess all the time

SLIP ‘N SLIDE — SPENCER REID!

for someone often likened to all things icy, you don’t deal with actual ice all that well.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 1.3k | fluff | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — not quite ice skating, more like ice walking, but close enough i hope 😭

Snow blankets the ground in an unbroken sheet of white, thick and heavy, muffling the world. The air is sharp enough to slice through layers of clothing, and each breath curls into a ghostly mist before vanishing. It's the kind of cold that settles in your bones, the kind that reminds you of all the reasons you despise winter.

The wind cuts like a blade against your cheek, biting through the layers of your FBI-issued winter coat. You bury your chin deeper into the fleece-lined collar, eyes narrowed against the sharp glare of the mid-morning sun reflecting off the ice.

“The crime scene is on the other side,” Hotch announces, his breath fogging in the air.

“Great,” you mutter. “Just great.”

A frozen lake. Of course.

You glance at the ice stretching out before you, the crime scene a stark, crimson-streaked contrast against the pristine white of the snow on the far side. The local authorities determined it would take too long to go around, and in these temperatures, time is everything. The killer's trail is fresh, the evidence vulnerable to the elements.

So, naturally, your team has decided to cross the ice.

“Let's move carefully,” Hotch warns. “We don't know how thick it is.”

“Well, this is gonna be fun,” Morgan says, shifting his weight as he surveys the slick surface between you and the body. “Guess we’re getting our morning cardio in,”

Beside him, Spencer adjusts his scarf, his breath puffing in front of him like smoke. “Technically, the increased difficulty of walking across an unstable, frictionless surface means our energy expenditure will be higher than normal. It’s not exactly—”

“Kid,” Morgan cuts in, shaking his head, “it was a joke,”

Spencer closes his mouth, but the corners twitch like he’s fighting the urge to clarify further.

You sigh, already feeling the first inklings of a headache forming. The case has been dragging on for days now—cold, bleak, and utterly relentless, much like the weather. The victim count is rising, and the unsub’s patterns are erratic, making it harder to form a cohesive profile.

Everything about this case feels unsteady, and now, looking at the vast stretch of ice before you, that instability has become a literal obstacle.

The team step onto the ice in what’s almost a single-file line, following the careful steps of the local detective guiding them safely across the lake.

You, however, stay firmly planted at the edge.

“You coming, Ice Queen?” Morgan calls over his shoulder, smirking.

The nickname grates, but you don’t react. You never do. You've heard it all before—it’s nothing new.

But today, for once, the title feels ironic. Because as much as you might be an ‘Ice Queen,’ you are not in your element.

The moment you step onto the ice, you know you're doomed.

Your boot slides, and suddenly, gravity isn't your friend. Your arms pinwheel as you scramble for balance, heart lurching into your throat.

Morgan barks out a laugh. “Damn, Princess. You sure you’re not playing it up for effect?”

You shoot him a glare. “Bite me, Morgan.”

He just chuckles, clearly amused by your suffering.

JJ glances back with a smothered smile, and Emily—traitor that she is—grins outright. “Need a hand?” she offers, but there's amusement in her voice, and you refuse to give her the satisfaction.

“No.” you say stiffly, planting your feet more firmly.

Except the ice has other plans.

Your boot skids again, and for a split second, you think you might recover—until you don’t. Your feet fly out from under you, and you hit the ice with a spectacular lack of grace.

The impact rattles through your bones, and for a moment, you just lie there, staring up at the grey sky, wondering if it’s too late to quit your job and move somewhere warm.

You hear Morgan’s laughter first—loud and unfiltered. Then Emily’s, followed by JJ’s soft giggle. Even Rossi looks vaguely amused.

And Spencer.

When you turn your head, you find him standing nearby, eyes wide, lips twitching like he's trying not to laugh but failing miserably.

Your dignity is in shambles.

“Glad I could entertain you,” you mutter, pushing yourself up onto your elbows.

Morgan wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “I gotta be honest, I expected better from you. All that ice in your veins, and you can't even stand up on it?”

You level him with a look that could freeze hell itself. “Say that again, Morgan. I dare you.”

That just makes him laugh harder.

You try to rise—carefully, deliberately—but the moment you shift your weight, your foot betrays you again, sending you skidding forward. You barely catch yourself on your hands before your knees slam into the ice.

This is actual hell.

You hear a quiet shuffling, and then Spencer is crouching beside you. “Here,” he says, offering his hand. “Let me help you,”

You stare at it, then at him. “I can do it myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” he says patiently, “but statistically speaking, the longer you struggle, the higher the likelihood of you falling again,”

You narrow your eyes. “Did you just calculate my probability of embarrassment?”

“Technically, it’s your probability of losing your balance,” he corrects. “But if you’d prefer, I could just—“

“Fine,” you snap, before he can retract his offer.

You grab his hand, and he pulls you up with surprising steadiness. His grip is warm, fingers wrapping securely around yours. He doesn’t let go immediately, waiting until you find your footing.

“Okay?” he asks.

You nod, exhaling sharply. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His lips quirk in the smallest smile. “Anytime,”

Behind you, Morgan lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Man, that was cute,”

“I hope you drown.”

You manage to stay upright as you start moving again, though it's a battle with every step. Spencer stays close, occasionally offering a hand when you falter. You try not to let it bother you—try not to acknowledge the warmth lingering on your skin where his fingers brushed against yours.

Eventually, you reach the other side of the lake, and you’ve never been more grateful to feel solid ground beneath your feet.

Morgan claps a hand on your shoulder as he passes. “Nice work, Permafrost. That was real impressive,”

You resist the urge to trip him.

“Go die.”

“You wound me,” He presses a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. “And here I was, thinking we had a special bond,”

“If by ‘special bond’ you mean I tolerate your existence, then sure.”

Spencer snorts beside you, and for a brief moment, you almost smile.

Almost.

But then the cold seeps back in, and the reality of the case presses down on you once more. The victim is just ahead, her body pale and still against the snow.

Your amusement fades.

There’s still work to be done.

“You really don’t like the ice, huh?” Spencer asks after a moment.

You sigh, brushing the remnants of frost from your jeans. “No. I really don’t.”

“Noted,” he says, tucking his hands into his coat pockets.