#hope you cry less than i did <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[beadelmare]

happy 43rd anniversary of the phone call!!

[omgfangirlland]

The Shadows That Nurture 3

I'm on a roll- don't expect it to last :)) but as of right now, Chapter 4 is done, Chapter 5 will be started, and I feel like each one will be longer and longer than the last- hope ch4 was just a one in a trillion thing

First || previous<< Chapter 3 >>next

Sleeping that night seemed to be a struggle on its own, nightmares plaguing your mind left and right. You’d fall asleep for 30 minutes and wake up, fall asleep for another 30 minutes and wake up again, and again, and again, giving up once you woke up at 03:33 am. No use in trying to sleep if you’re just going to wake up crying and gasping for air, heart pumping so hard you could hear the blood running through your veins.

You needed air, wanted something less stuffing than the four walls that seemed to close in around your shaking form. With bare feet, you made your way across the manor towards the garden. May as well try and do something productive.

The garden was loved and taken care of, once upon a time. The plants were dead, the trees dried beyond help, and the dirt may need to be changed as well if the roots have gone putrid and rotten, just to be sure. It’ll take years to bring the space to its glory, to how it looked in the painting, but you could feel it in your bones that it will be worth it.

Diverting your attention from the nightmares to the garden helped ease the shaking, the fear. The more you thought about the nightmares, the more you didn’t know which one scared you the most. Between relieving your mom’s death, accepting she was dead, that you’ll never see her again, that you didn’t even know where they buried her- and seeing Bruce as the one holding the gun, firing it at your mom, at you, and then laughing with glee, saying something you didn’t quite remember…  You couldn’t decide which one you hated the most.

Your eyes trailed the walls of the manor, up to the roof, and back down. You wanted to call him dad, hug him, have him come to your recitals and activities, and have him love you like Officer Gordon said he would. And yet, no matter how close he seemed to you, he was farther away than the moon. You hoped it was just your awkward self, that maybe your anxieties were putting ideas where there shouldn’t be any. Today’s breakfast only seemed to fortify said anxieties.

“When will I go back to school?” The question fell from your lips so quietly, and the silence it created made you sink into yourself. Bruce’s eyes had been glancing at you non-stop, but now they were fixated on you, non-blinking. He hummed, low and thoughtful. “You’ll be moved to online schooling. After what happened to your mom, I feel it will be safer for you to stay inside the manor for a while”

“For forever.” The shadows hissed in his ear, but Bruce simply cleared his throat, checked his watch, and left, Richard following soon after at the man’s nudging. Bruce will drive Dick to school. Your eyes remained on your plate as they left, remaining quiet for a while.

“Mama said I should make friends.” Your teary eyes met Alfred’s again as your lip trembled. “How will I make friends if I can’t go outside?” The older man’s hands were rubbing together behind his back. He felt as inexperienced as when Bruce was a toddler, as unsure of what to do as when he was with his father. That was a rare feeling for the man.

With a soft sigh and a shaky hand placed on the young kid’s shoulder, Alfred did what he did best. “I am sure you will have many opportunities to make friends, young miss.” He lied. You knew he was, and yet you held onto the hope. Bruce said it’ll only be for a while- so maybe, just maybe, in high school, you’ll have tons of friends.

You finished your plate, eyes still wet, but at least you didn’t cry. Your insistence to help Alfred was only met with a soft smile and a shake of his head, the man insisting on you enjoying the free time you have, telling you that perhaps you should go and buy some clothes, some decorations for your room.

Again, you mentioned the insanity of leaving a kid to buy whatever they wanted, but Alfred only laughed. “Can- is there a laptop I can use? Mama always let me on hers when we ordered something online. It’ll be easier for me…” You asked so softly, almost going into rambling as anxiety of sounding like a brat, like you were ungrateful for the phone, settled in.

Alfred didn’t even blink, no muscle on his face twitched as he only nodded, saying he’ll bring one to your room straight away. That was easier than expected. You were so used to your mom saying no, or bargaining with her for new shoes, and you understood- you didn’t have that much money, could barely scrap by… But the way the Waynes threw money around felt irresponsible. Does Bruce truly make that much money that he doesn’t have to worry about losing his home? What if he loses it all one day? Does he have a savings account? Your tummy didn’t feel good worrying about all that, mama always said that only adults should worry about money.

You don’t think your mom would like Bruce very much. That thought filtered through your brain for quite a while as you looked up how to take care of a garden and specific plants you wanted to see bloom. He was so cold, distant, creepy, and secretive. Your mother always dreamed of a loving man, strong but gentle. You never understood why she put up with the men she hung out with considering they were exactly like Bruce.

Alfred interrupted your musing as he knocked, opening the door only when he heard your voice. He left the laptop and its charger on the desk, and his only words were to inform you of the timetable for eating.  “But, of course, if you get hungry before then, you’re more than welcome to the kitchen, young miss.” And he left just as fast as he came, barely having the time to ask where your mother would be buried. You doubted Bruce would hold a funeral for her. Alfred just said he’ll look into it.

With a small huff, you went and plugged the charger into the wall and laptop before opening it. Bruce gave you the card to use, and if he can’t be bothered to go with you to stores, you can surely get whatever you want. He’s so rich, you can bleed him dry a bit.

In the end, you didn’t. You felt too guilty about buying clothes and things for the garden, so your desires for those shiny metallic watercolors and 360 markers were exchanged for a few sketchbooks and graphite pens. Your mother is rolling in her grave at how much you spent, you were sure, so you rationalized the guilt to simply wanting to perfect your skills before buying those fancy things.

You got the clothes a size or two bigger, just like mami did, so they’ll fit you for longer. Simple things, pajamas, socks, underwear, and a few pairs of jeans and T-shirts, things she’d buy for you since you were unsure of what you were supposed to get.

You hoped Bruce wouldn’t be too angry, he was a scary man now, and you dreaded to see him angry. On the garden side of things, you may have overindulged. From all the tools you got, to the kind of soil, to the types of flowers, to making sure you got beds for the plants. The soil outside truly looked beyond saving. But if he was okay with Richard’s desire for more gymnastics equipment, surely he'd be fine with this.

At lunch, you were informed by Alfred that Bruce and Dick won’t attend dinner. It didn’t surprise you, however, it still felt like they were avoiding you, and it still hurt. Perhaps this will be the new normal, the everyday occurrence. Maybe this was normal for them, you were sure high school and work kept them both busy… Will they ever have time for you?

Tag list: @bat1212 @trashlanternfish360 @shycreatorreview @syrooo @a-lurking-fae Forgot the tags D: my bad

[worldlxvlys]

i NEED a wedding day typa thing with matt where hes just stressing and his vows are cuter than anything and he admires u while ur walking down the aisle that typa shit

long enough

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: noneeeee

a/n: hope you likeee <33

don’t cry. don’t cry, don’t cry.

i took a deep breath as i stared at the doors, waiting for her to come through them.

i’ve waited for this day for so long, and now that it was actually happening it felt surreal.

“please stand”

as i watched everyone collectively stand up i felt a rush of nerves take over me.

this was really happening.

i wasn’t in my 9th grade science class, watching her expertly mix chemicals together, day dreaming about marrying her.

we weren’t studying for our math test together, her explaining how to solve the problem while i zoned out, imagining how amazing she would be at planning our wedding.

i wasn’t watching her walk down the stairs on prom night, finally seeing which dress she chose, thinking about what it’d be like to see her in her wedding dress for the first time.

now, i was living it.

every minute i spent longing for her, all of the pain i went through waiting for her, it all led up to this exact moment.

chris, most likely picking up on my nerves, patted my shoulder lightly from his spot beside me.

i momentarily glanced over to him, and he gave me a slight nod.

nick, who was on the other side of him, gave me a quick thumbs up.

i took another deep breath, attempting to relax, as i watched the doors in anticipation.

the moment they opened up, i lost it.

i let out a quick breath, tears welling in my eyes when i saw her standing there.

i held my breath for a second while i took in her dress. it was perfect for her.

the white seemed to make her glow, only adding to her natural beauty.

the top of the dress was lined with intricate designs, with a touch of lace to top it off.

the straps were thin, but not too thin, a detail of the dress she was adamant about being perfect.

the bottom of the dress was long, but not long enough where she had to worry about it dragging behind her too much.

the dress had a small slit going up her leg. it wasn’t anything too crazy, just long enough for me to see the lace garter decorating her thigh, peeking through when she walked.

it was unlikely that anyone else even saw it, however, i was purposefully looking for it.

the dress just screamed her. it was simple, yet so unique. the extravagance wasn’t in the dress itself, but in the details.

it was clear that she put an abundance of time and thought into picking out the dress, and it paid off.

“oh my god” i whispered under my breath, attempting to blink back my tears.

READER’S POV

“take a breath” mary lou spoke as she rubbed my back gently.

i was currently staring at the doors in anticipation, my hands shaking lightly.

i did as she said, inhaling through my nose and out of my mouth.

“i’ll be next you the whole time, sweetheart” she smiled at me.

my parents and i were on less than optimal terms, as they liked to call it.

at least, that’s what they said when people asked about it.

they were never there for me, but mary lou and jimmy were. i never even had to ask her to be the one to walk me down the aisle, we both always knew it would be her.

“i’m so grateful for you” i told her, my voice wavering slightly.

she pulled me into a hug, giving me a slight squeeze.

“good, cause you’re stuck with me” she chuckled.

after waiting a few more minutes, the doors finally opened.

everyone’s head turned to me, and my eyes widened slightly under the pressure of so many people’s gaze.

“you’re ok” she whispered to me, knowing how i would react.

my eyes found matt’s across the aisle, and my focus on everyone else completely faded away.

tears were streaming down his face as he stared at me in awe.

i took in his appearance, and almost melted right there.

he looked so good.

his suit was crisp, no doubt the result of him making sure it was hanging at all times. knowing him, he probably never even took it out of the protective bag, wanting it to stay wrinkle-free.

his tie was tied perfectly, the result of him watching youtube videos repeatedly, needing to master the skill. (mary lou ended up having to teach him how to do it over facetime.)

every piece of his tuxedo matched perfectly, his meticulous planning shining through.

the tux fit him better than i ever could have imagined.

he wore a few rings, knowing how much i loved them on his hands. i was excited for one ring in particular, though.

as mary lou guided me down the aisle, i noticed matt’s gaze run up and down my body, stopping at the garter that i let him pick out.

i smiled lightly at that, watching as he met my eyes again.

once we got to the end of the aisle, we stopped directly in front of matt.

“hi baby” i whispered to him, watching as he began to laugh lightly.

his smile grew even wider as mary lou, handed him a few tissues for his tears.

we both laughed lightly at this, “where did you get that?” i asked. everyone around us laughed at that.

“no, i’m serious. where did that come from?” i asked, confused.

we were met with more laughter, my question left unanswered.

she gave us both a kiss to the cheek, before placing my hand in his.

i felt tears of my own start to fall at the gesture.

“you may now be seated” everyone sat down at the request.

“family and friends, thank you all for coming today to share in this wonderful occasion. today we are here together to unite matt and y/n in marriage”

“and now for the vows” the officiator spoke. matt decided he wanted to go first.

“ok, hi” he breathed out, a large grin spreading on his face. “y/n, i have spent such a long time dreaming about this day. for so long, i would tell chris and nick that i was gonna marry you one day. but then you started chasing after other guys and you seemed so unattainable all of a sudden. but we’re finally here, we’re getting married” he whispered excitedly, as though he couldn’t believe it, “and there’s no one else that i’d rather be with. i love how deeply you care about the things that are important to you, like this. i’m pretty sure i’ve seen everything in this room on your pinterest board at some point” the room filled with chuckles, “ you’ve put so much love and time into this and i’m so grateful to have found someone who cares about this, who cares about me so much. and seeing you walk down that aisle with my mom, i-” his voice broke as his lip began to quiver slightly.

i sniffled softly, blinking rapidly as more tears fell from my eyes.

“you mean everything to me, and i can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you” he finished.

when the officiator gestured to me, i began my vows.

“ geez, that was really good” i breathed out, making everyone laugh.

“ok” i spoke as i took a deep breath, “matt, i have loved you for so long. i can’t even pinpoint when, we were so young. but, i always thought that i was just gonna be in the crowd, watching you do this with someone else. i never imagined, for a second, that you felt the same. and growing up, your mom would always tell me that when we got married, she’d be the one to hand me off to you. and i never believed that i would actually get to experience that”

“i love you more than words can describe, and i’m so happy to be able to call you my husband. i’m so grateful to be marrying my best friend, because i couldn’t imagine life without you, and now i never have to. thank you for accepting me, thank you for loving me. just- thank you” i finished.

“do you matthew sturniolo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“of course i do” he spoke, staring at me.

“and do you y/n , take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, to have and to hold, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?

“i do”

we were then given our rings to exchange.

as i slid the ring on matt’s finger, i spoke “with this ring, i thee wed and pledge you my love now and forever”

matt did the same with my ring, “with this ring, i thee wed and pledge you my love now and forever”

“by the authority vested in me by the state of massachusetts , i now pronounce you husband and wife!”

“you may now-” he didn’t even finish the sentence before matt wrapped his arms around my waist, placing his lips against mine in a passionate kiss.

the room was filled with cheers and applause as our lips moved against each others for a few seconds, before pulling away.

he pulled me into a hug, kissing my forehead. “you could’ve let the man finish first” i spoke, teasingly.

“i’ve waited long enough”

🕊️🕊️🕊️🕊️

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @charlotteblogs777 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[yanderehsr]

Thinking about the "veronica open the door please!"....What if reader was to lock themselves in the bathroom to get rid of the yandere after a break up? Could I please have this scenario?^^ Ooooo make that be hibiscus lunae, Venti and Aether! Also, how r u? How have u been? Do you mind the fact that I send quite a few requests? Anyways, ty for reading my request <33

Ah yes, Hibiscus Lunae🤣. And no need to be worried, you can send in as many asks as you want.

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping

Imbibitor Lunae: He bangs on the door over and over again, hoping to break it down, to get you back, he can hear your whimpers of fear yet cannot bring himself to care right now, you are HIS, he must have you back. He just needs this stuped door down.

When Imbibitor Lunae finally breaks down the door and sees you on the ground, crying and trying to push yourself further back, he can't help but to be happy, you are here and you are coming with him, whether you want to or not.

"I regret ever agreeing to this break up, what I have said before holds true now as well, you are mine, always has been and always will"

Venti: Come out, Comeoutcomeoutcomeout, don't you trust him, why do you lock yourself away from him, the boy is desperate, he will punch, kick and scratch the door, please come out, he wants you back, no he needs you back.

Venti begs you to come out, he needs to see you. He may be an archon but he wouldn't hesitate to grovel on the ground as long as he gets a second chance, should he not get that second chance then he would break the door down and tackle you into the ground, Venti will cry and hug you, now don't struggle, he will just take you somewhere only he will ever gaze upon you again.

"Honey, please talk to me... I-I need to hear your voice, can you not do this for your boyfriend... what do you mean break up, we never broke up, stop spouting lies"

Aether: You can hear him from the other side, banging on the door and screaming at you to open, he doesn't sound angry, more worried than that. You didn't think your ex boyfriend would show up to get you back, much less try and force you back into the relationship, it seems his possessiveness hadn't relinquished.

You can see Aether's efforts is starting to crack the wood in the door, you curl up to protect yourself, it may be useless when it's the Traveler of all people trying to get you, but it makes you feel safe, you hear the door break open, all is quiet until you feel his warm embrace around you, he hugs you and says nothing until...

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you... why did you have to break up with me, all I wanted you to be is safe... now hold on, I'll carry you somewhere better, somewhere without any people who will steal you away"

[weird-is-life]

hii! So I've never made a request before- but I was wondering if you could write a sunshine!reader × spencer where reader is a but dimmer(less sunshiney? Idk lol) than usual? Something sort of fluffy and comfort like if that makes sense :) I love your work sm and i saw your requests were open so- <33

Hii lovely ty for the request🥰! And thank you for loving my work, ily😭 hope this is okay. Warnings: fluff, reader is a bit upset, mentions of food/drink, use of pet names(0.9k)

You come to work without your usual cheery aura. You greet everybody with a smile, but Spencer sees right through it. He can tell the difference between your real smile, and between this fake smile. I mean, he would be kind of a bad boyfriend if he couldn't differ them.

Spencer comes up to your desk, his hand immediately finds yours, "hi, sweetheart."

You look up at him, fake smile already plastered on your pretty face, "hi, Spence."

"Are you okay?" Spencer whispers, trying not to draw any attention to you.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I guess I just didn't sleep well," you respond way too quickly so Spencer knows you're lying right away.

"Really?" Spencer asks softly, trying to get the real answer.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Really." You form another fake smile on your face. But Spencer doesn't push you, he knows you'll tell him in your own time if you want to.

Spencer squeezes your shoulder lovingly, and lets you get back to work. And even though he isn't going to try, and force you to tell him what's wrong, he's not letting it go.

Spencer settles on the plan to try to cheer you up, even if just a little.

Spencer goes to grab a coffee to a little café near the Bau so he grabs a drink and some sweet pastries for you as well. He even buys you a flower, just one simple flower not a bouquet, but it's your favourite so he hopes that you'll like it.

As soon as Spencer gets back to the office he makes a beeline for you. You don't notice him coming, too focused on the papers, until the beautiful flower is right in front of your face.

"Oh," you yelp in surprise, small but genuine smile right away on your lips, "what's this?"

"This," he also puts the drink and the pastries on your table," is for you."

"For me? Why?" you ask a little confused, but Spencer already can see that your mood has been lifted even if just a bit.

"Just because," Spencer beams at you.

You raise your brows at him, "just because?" you giggle. Your giggle makes Spencer almost melt away.

"Yeah, " Spencer shrugs his shoulders. He would have bought you thousands of flowers if it meant that you would smile at him like this again. He overwhelmingly wants to kiss you, but he just can't kiss you in the middle of the office.

He decides that a little peck on your cheek wouldn't hurt. He quickly looks around, and then does it.

You cheeks go rosy, "thank you, handsome. This is really nice."

"Of course," Spencer smiles at you one more time before he leaves you be. He sits at his desk, and takes a sip of his coffee.

It's missing the very much needed sugar, even if he did ask for more sugar at the café It's still not enough. He goes straight to the small office kitchen.

You notice Spencer going there, and follow him. You can't believe how sweet Spence is. I mean, you know he's literally the sweetest person on the earth, but still it takes you by a surprise every time. It makes you love him even more everytime, too.

You swear, you were very close to crying when he brought you the flower. You haven't been feeling very well since the morning. It's just one of those days when you wake up with an upset mood, and there's no actual reason behind it. It's just this way sometimes.

You know Spencer noticed this bad mood. And of course, he's trying everything he can to make you feel better without being forceful. So you want to thank him again.

"Hi, sweetheart, need more sugar too?" Spencer notices you straight away.

"No, I just wanted to say thank you again, Spence," you say sheepishly.

"No need to say thanks again. I'm glad you like my little surprise," Spencer can't help it when you're around him, his hand immediately lands on your hip.

You try to give him a smile, but you just anxiously look at him, "I just... Y-you were right. I-I don't feel good today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Spencer softly asks in hushed voice, his hand starts to do circles on your exposed skin where your sweater has risen.

"Can we talk about it later?" You don't feel like talking about it right now. Especially not at work. You'd rather do it later with Spencer's arms around you.

"Definitely, lovely. You can come to my apartment if you want to. We don't even have to talk, we could just put on a movie or something. Does that sound okay?" Spencer proposes unsurely, he doesn't want to make you even more sad. He wouldn't survive it for sure. He's so used to your happy smiles and cheerful mood that it's weird seeing you so sullen. He doesn't like seeing you like this at all, it breaks his heart a little.

"Sounds perfect." You look at him like you want to ask him also something else, and Spencer doesn't even need to guess to know what to do. He's seen those puppy eyes on your numerous times.

Spencer quickly wraps his arms around you, instantly whispering sweet things in your ear, "I love you, y'know that?"

"I know, love you, too," you say into his shirt, already feeling a small amount of tension leave your body.

You stay like that until you are positive that you are blushing like crazy from his compliments, and until someone else comes into the kitchen for a coffee (you don't want to be another lecture about inappropriate behaviour at work, you leave that to other people).

[hannamoon143]

Hi, I'm here to make a request because i desperatey seek some comfort lately and since we are moots and i like your writing i thought i ask but feel free to ignore it. 😊

So I thought about the reader having a toxic family and because of that a very low self-esteem and the member (I would prefer Chan or Felix but honestly you can pick whoever you want) finds her crying because of her family and comforts her. And then she is like "Why are you even dating me?" and the member tells her how how much he loves her and how beautiful and kinde, etc. she is.

It's up to you how toxic you want her family to be. please only write what you feel comfortable with.

I just have some trouble with my own family lately. I hope you are better and remember to stay hydrated! 💕

Family...Family?

chan x fem. reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: toxic family, slight cursing, slight injury (just scratches), crying, anxiety

word count: 2,3k

a/n: hey <33 thank you for the request, and i hope it brings you some comfort. sorry that it took so long! and thank u for the kind words. i hope ur family situation is okay, feel free to talk to me. take care and now enjoy<333

not proofread!

You sat on the cold floor, your back facing the wall. Altough you tried your best not to break down, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears ran down your face, followed with pained sobs. You pulled your knees up to your chin, and wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt for comfort. It didn’t help.

What brought this break down was nothing really new for you. Your family making fun of you, and yelling hurtful words at you was something you always knew. But this time, it was just too much.

When your mother called you just before, you didn’t even want to pick up, but she was your mother right? And she sounded nice and warmhearted at the beginning. You almost didn’t want to believe it. And unfortunately you were right with not believing that forced sweet voice. After the small talk, she got to the point immediately.

Your own mother had the audicity to beg for money from your boyfriend. And she didn’t even have a good reason. It was so your brothers girlfriend wouldn’t leave him. As stupid as it sounded that’s what it was. Your brother was younger than you, and you always tried to think positively, that maybe you were just being unfair, but deep down you exactly knew that he always got better things than you. He went to a expensive private school, and you on a normal one. He got the newest i-phones, headphones and gaming tools, and you had only the old phone from him. He one time destroyed it with purpose, and what did your parents say? They were sure it was an accident and you sure were old enough to pay for your own phone. And the worst was he wasn’t even thankful.

And you don't even want to think about grades. He didn't care at all about school, having the worst grades ever. You? If you got two points less in a test, your parents would call you a failure, and then give you the silent treatment for days. You were just glad you finished school, and didn't have to share anything about university with them.

When you asked your mother for money one time, when you couldn’t afford a bus ticket, such a simple thing, she didn’t give it to you. Saying that you had healthy legs, and your family needed money for more important things. It was always like that.

So now your brother had the fakest girlfriend ever. She always smiled around your parents, and that was everything she needed to do so they would like her. She always begged your brother to buy her things, and he never hesitated to do so. But no, he didn‘t even take his own money. It was your parents‘. It was unbelievable noone saw what big of a gold digger she was. But when you moved out, you stopped trying to tell them that things were unfair, you stopped letting them treat you as if you were just a problem, that they had to tolerate.

And now your mom really had the audicity to want to take advantage of chans career and money. You could almost laugh. She always despised chan, telling you that he was not the one, and that she was sure that he was a cheater and someone that would leave you when he saw the next best girl. That was so rich coming from a woman, that cheated on her husband on a monthly base.

And coming back to the call, of course you said no. And after you said this one word, the bittersweet tone immediately dropped. She said something about what a bad family member you were, not caring for your family, when you had so much money, and your family needed it. When you still said no, she started yelling at you. You hated when she yelled. And when you couldn’t stand it anymore, you told her what of a shitty mother she has always been, and that she was the unfair one. That your whole family was just toxic, and that nothing was okay like this. That it always was like this. And maybe you should have hung up the call then. For a moment it was just silence. Then she let out a bitter,faked sob, before she literally screamed:

„You think we were unfair to you? You always had enough to eat, and a roof over your head. We never were unfair. Your brother is young, and he deserves to have love, so why won’t you help him? You are such a spoiled, little ungrateful brat y/n! I wish i never had you. Your father is stressed out because of your little manners, and your brother has to suffer because of you. And if i would ask you for money for food? I bet you wouldn’t even give us that! But okay, continue being the biggest bad decision of my life, with your spoiled, stupid singer boyfriend. And when he leaves your bitchy ass don’t come and beg for our forgiveness. Have a shitty life y/n, we won’t have contact anymore.Oh and just so you know, if you think you could ever be good enough for someone, you are living a lie.“

Then she hung up. Just like this. You always tried to convince yourself, that she had just a bad day, when she was like this. That it was hard to be a mother and a wife. But now you saw it clear. She wasn’t just like this because it was her weird way of caring or something. She just simply despised you. Probably she wouldn’t if you were a boy.

But then her words. Was she right? You were always envious of your brother, and all the things he got, also if you didn’t care as much anymore as you got older. But maybe you were ungratefull. What if chan thought the same and just didn’t leave you because he felt pity for you? Were you a brat without even really knowing it?

You wrapped your arms tighter around yourself, as your tears got only more, and your thoughts continued spiraling. Maybe you should beg her for forgiveness, like you always did. You shouldn’t have yelled at her like this, she was your mother and she was right, she always gave you to eat and a roof over the head. So you were being unfair maybe…

Then slowly, another thought crept up in your mind. Her life would be easier without you. And your brothers and fathers too. Maybe chans and all your friends too. Were you really just a burden? It had to be like this, when the person you knew your whole life said that…right?

You didn’t notice how loud you were sobbing, and how hard you were digging your fingers into your head, tangled in your hair, as if you wanted to just rip the thoughts out of your head. Then the front door of your shared apartment opened. But between your loud thoughts, the sobbing and the slight ringing in your ears you didn’t hear it.

Chan’s day was exhausting, and he was just looking forward to snuggle up on the couch with you. When he got in the apartment he wanted to say that he was home, but a noise immediately caught his attention. Sobs, pained and muffled. His eyes grew wide. Did something happen? He quickly kicked his shoes off and dropped his bag to the floor, and then ran into your shared bedroom. His heart broke when he saw you sitting curled up on the floor, sobbing hard, hands tangled in your hair. He quickly ran over to you, crouching down next to you. „Y/nnie, oh my god is everything alright, are you hurt?“ he spoke with a desperate, concerned voice.

You only noticed his presence now, but you didn’t dare to look up, the words from your mother present in your mind.

Chan got only more scared when you just didn’t look up, and instead gripped your hair tighter. He gently but firmly grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands out your hair. You tried to fight him off, and you started screaming between sobs.

„Let me go, i don’t care, please, i’m not worth it.“

Chan had no idea what you meant. You just tried to scratch him with your nails so he would let go. What was going on? He never ever saw you like this. This wasn’t you. But for sure he wouldn’t let go and let you hurt yourself.

„Y/n, stop scratching me, and i’m for sure not letting go. Just try to calm down, and tell me what is going on right now.“ His voice was stern but unbelievable soft. You still fought him, your nails leaving bright red scratches on his wrists, sobbing violently. Why wasn’t he letting go when you were clearly hurting him? Why wasn’t he getting mad and yelling at you? Why wasn’t he just giving up on you like everyone else when you were like this?

But then he suddenly started gently stroking your head, with one hand, your wrists in his other one. The motion was soft and definitely not violent or madly. You stopped scratching him, and screaming your own horrible thoughts in chans face. You just looked at him now, tears streaming down your face, sobs getting quiet.

He gently smiled.

„See? Everythings alright, no reason to hurt or scream at me my love.“ He slowly released your wrists, continuing brushing over your hair soothingly.

You were confused. How was he smiling in this situation. How could he still touch you so lovingly when you just screamed in his face and hurt him? When you looked at his wrists you felt guilty.

Chan saw your body slump as you calmed down, now only silent tears rolling over your cheeks anymore.

He just looked at you, giving you time to calm down. He then slowly wrapped his arms around you, stroking your back.  Your tears were falling onto his hoodie, and you didn’t even really register when he lifted you up the floor, carrying you to the bed. He gently laid you down, and sat down next to you. He waited a bit before he spoke up again.

„Love, i need you to talk to me a bit now okay? I need to know what happened that got you feeling and acting like this, so i can help and comfort you alright? I know this wasn’t you, and i know there has to be a reason why you were breaking down like this. Just know you can tell me everything. Don’t pretend with me love.“

You sat up against the wall a bit, sniffling.

„I’m sorry i hurt you, i don’t know what got into me.“ You mumble, looking at your own hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

„I know you are sorry. It’s alright, it doesn’t hurt, it only hurted to see you like this.“

He waits for you to talk again, patiently looking at you.

„It was my mother. She called.“

His eyes softened. He knew that your relationship with your family wasn’t the best, and they weren’t that kind to you.

Then you told him everything, every word your mother said and all your thoughts to it. Your last sentence  hurt him deeper than anything else.

„…How can you even be with someone like me? I’m messed up and ungrateful and just a burden-„

He took your hands in his, looking you in the eyes.

„Y/n L/n, if you ever talk about yourself like this again i will have to worry you actually lost your mind. What your mother said, was horrible. And i want you to understand that all of that is not true. You’ve never been a burden to me, and you never could be. And did you just say you believe your not thankful enough? You y/n? The person who gets excited over the smallest things, the person who was so sweet and grateful when i forgot our anniversary and only gifted you a flower? You never wanted me for my money y/n, and you know that, and i know it too. That was always a big fear of mine, that people would only want me for money, my job and stuff. But you proved me wrong. You always loved me for me. If even, i should be happy you even want to be with me. You are the kindest, funniest and best person i know. And no matter what happens, i will always stay with you, as long as you want it. And i’ll make sure these people will never hurt you again. And you know what? I can be your family. I will always love and support you. And if you fall? Then i’m falling with you. And then we get up again, with the help of each other. Exactly like a family should.“

Tears welled up in your eyes again. But this time they weren’t from sadness and the feeling of not being good enough.

„I can’t tell you how much your words mean to me channie.“ You said, a little smile creeping to your face.

He smiled too and wrapped  his arms around you from the side again, putting his head on your shoulder.  

„That’s the smile i love.“

You wrapped your arms around him too, nuzzling your face into his hair.

„I love my new family.“ you murmured.

„How about we make it official?“ he lifts his head, so he can look into your eyes.

„What do you mean?“ You hold your breath, as you let his words sink in.

„Marry me y/n. I promise to be there for you, no matter what comes.“

For a moment it felt like the whole world stayed still. Did this wonderful man really want to be with you for the rest of his life?

Then a big joyful smile spread across your face, the tear streaks from before seemed as if they were years ago now. The joy literally radiated from you now.

„Yes, channie. Yes i’d love to be your wife.“

taglist: @0omillo0 @lina-linny @darqlys

[lizdive]

Er father figure Ratio with child reader that is like huohuo! Idk what else to explain but i hope ya get it😞 (PLEASE PLATONIC)

You got it anon 🫡 thank you for requesting and if you’re unsatisfied just tell me !! <33

notes 𐙚 gender-neutral reader — "you" used to refer to reader ,, reader is a child ,, reader is based off of "huohuo" from honkai star rail (duh) ,, platonic relationships ,, i’m not sure if that blue flame thing is called phase flame but that what i’ll call it ,, mister tail exists here for reader ,, not proofread ignore typos

⭑ Despite having the ability to exorcise spirits, the phase flame absolutely terrified you as you ran through the halls of herta’s space station, the living thing of blue flames rushing after you as Mr. Tail yelled at you to do something — anything.

⭑ You ended up bumping into VERITAS, falling back onto your butt. The professor was obviously less than pleased as he looked down at you, but he blinked once he noticed you didn’t seem to be a researcher or anything. He, of course, spotted the phase flame rushing after you at full speed and realized what was happening.

⭑ Even after he contained the creature you still kept close to him as if he was your human shield.

⭑ You did apologize, of course, and introduce yourself. VERITAS wasn’t too harsh on you since you were still only a child and children weren’t really the brightest stars naturally so he knew you wouldn’t be Einstein smart.

⭑ VERITAS tried to get you to leave him alone multiple times but somehow you both end up bumping into each other again so he’s begrudgingly accepted the fact that you are stuck with him.

⭑ He’s intrigued by Mr. Tail. When you tell him the story and how you could’ve been harmed if any other approach was taken, he does feel a bit bad. But also a bit unamused because of your past dumbness to interact with a literal FLAME.

⭑ Gets along with Mr. Tail but also doesn’t?? They have their moments. Whenever you’re in lectures with him, seated in the corner just doing your thing whether it be creating talismans or doing some activities and assignments he’s given you, Mr. Tail will sometimes be up there with VERITAS and his students cry x10 more because they can both be pretty mean..

⭑ VERITAS doesn’t blame you for being scared of spirits and other things, but he’s also kind of confused at the lengths of your fear because it’s kind of your job / occupation to get rid of them.

⭑ If you tell him you want to resign but you’re too scared, he’ll encourage you and help you build the confidence to quit. However if he noticed it’s affecting your health negatively (ex: heart health because of the constant scares) he will force you to quit. Job be damned, especially because you’re still very young.

⭑ If it’s because of money or something, he has enough and more to spend on the two (three?) of you.

⭑ People making fun of you? Not anymore. Whenever VERITAS hears someone call you 'the possessed demoness' he gets annoyed. Yes, Mr. Tail possess you sometimes however it’s only to keep you safe. He even encourages Mr. Tail to do so to keep you dafe during those situations because he knows how petrified you get.

⭑ He doesn’t hide his distain for the nickname and any other mean names people may call you. He will literally give a physical reaction with his expression and tell them to hold their tongue and learn some respect.

⭑ Knowing how timid, shy, and just sensitive overall you can be, he’ll try to tone down his behavior for you so you don’t get scared of him. That’s the last thing he wants — he doesn’t want it at all, actually.

⭑ VERITAS will help you build up your courage if you wish. He… isn’t a big fan of Mr. Tail’s methods but he also knows that for some they’re effective. Exposure isn’t necessarily bad but he thinks you should start off slow with smaller things.

⭑ You’ll probably know every kind of spirit there is to know about because of VERITAS and how to deal with them. Not even just spirits, bro will teach you about other creatures, too.

⭑ And at the end of the day, scared or brave, VERITAS doesn’t mind if you hide behind him and let him take care of you and the situation,,

[deathbxnny]

HI LOVEE!!!

ok, this is a once in a lifetime occasion because I am obsessed with WuWa.

May I request an angst to fluff fic with Husband! Jiyan?

So, fem reader as always! As we all know the busy General spends most of his time at the front lines, but he always makes sure to send his sweet wife some gifts back! But she can't help but feel a bit neglected by him, missing him too much and some people's loud mouths talking bad about their relationship did not help either, so what happens when Jiyan returns home to surprise his wife but finds her crying silently instead? I'll leave that to you!!

I just love him sm, he's my lovely main! what's your team pookie? I'll share mine! Jiyan (main DPS) Encore (sub DPS) and Verina (Healer), sometimes I switch Encore with Rover (I chose the female one, which one did you choose?)

anyways, love you, keep yourself hydrated and rest! sweet flowers for my sweet bxnny → 💐🌻🌺

I saw angst and felt the voices (angst demons) attempt to take over lmao.

But my current team is usually made out of Calcharo, Verina, and Yinlin (I sometimes change out either Calcharo or Yinlin with my boy Jiyan tho, depending on what I'm fighting-). I also chose the female Rover, btw! She's just so cute!^^

So with that all said, thank you for the request, and I hope you'll love this too, dear moot!!<33

Content: Female/afab reader, husband Jiyan, some angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of paranoia, death (not of reader or Jiyan), mentions of war, sfw

Reader is afab!

((Not proofread))

When he's gone for too long. (Husband!Jiyan x Fem!Reader)

Your excitement dies when you open the front door in the hope of seeing your husband, only to be faced with a soldier instead. He stands there calmly, face expressionless like all the others before him, as he holds out an intricate package to you. If you didn't know any better, you would've knocked it out of his hands.

"A package for you, my lady. From the general." The man hummed, waiting patiently for you to take it. He didn't shy away from the anger in your eyes, the pain and pure annoyance, that was then stilled with a deep breath. They were used to it by now.

"Thank you." You said, the package feeling heavy in your hands when you shut the door behind you again wordlessly. Not seeing the way the soldier opened his mouth once more to say something else.

Something that would've quelled the anger in your heart.

You threw the gift on a pile next to the door, dust slightly filling the air when it hit the many others that came before it. It wasn't that you weren't grateful or happy. But you also just wanted your husband to be here instead. You wanted him to hand you these gifts. Him to be the one that appears at your door after being gone for so long.

It angered you that he wasn't here, even if you knew why.

Being a general was difficult and draining. It forced him to stay out on the frontlines for weeks and even months on end with minimal communication, if any at all. His solution was, therefore, to simply send his wife lavish gifts in hopes of making her feel less lonely, but he knew better than to believe that it ultimately worked in the long run.

Your anger made you feel selfish, and the guilt made you feel worse. You were stuck in an inescapable cycle that was impossible to break out of. Leaving the home for a break was impossible as well. No matter where you went, the pity filled looks and taunting whispers seemed to haunt you. It made you barely step out of the house. You couldn't do it, not without him.

It was a miserable existence, and yet you never voiced your woes to Jiyan either. You didn't want to burden him with such troubles when he had worse things to worry about. He had been through atrocities he could never even speak of, so surely you could survive the couple weeks without him, right? He was keeping you all safe, his sacrifices were important. Even if it was at the cost of your sanity.

But now that you sat here in the darkness of your living room all alone, you realise that you perhaps never accepted the neglect as much as you wanted to. You felt horrible, the guilt eating you alive whilst you shed endless tears and hid your face in your hands, body shaking and trembling with every sob. It was unfair. It wasn't right. You had to wipe away the agony and be strong for him. You shouldn't act like this.

What would the people think if they saw the generals wife crying over him performing his duties? They'd mock you even more, shake their heads in disappointment, give you lethal looks that burned you from the inside out. The embarrassment, the shame... you internalized it all until this very moment. You had finally burst at the seams, and just as you thought that you'd have to suffer through this alone as usual, a gentle, calloused hand cupped yours softly.

"My love?" His voice startled you, a gasp leaving your lips as you attempted to pull away and turn your head in panic. You didn't hear him approach you. Heart sinking in your chest, you realised that he was sitting right next to you, his other hand resting on your back to keep you in place against him. You couldn't breathe, as you panted heavily.

"What happened to you? Did something happen in my absence? I sent a soldier to send you a message about my return, but..." His eyes swayed to the pile gifts near the doorway, his heart clenching when he began piecing together what may have caused your plight. Despite you thinking otherwise, his observant eyes caught onto more than he let on. He wasn't blind or deaf to what the general public seemed to think of you, nor was he that unaware of your pain and neglect. He himself felt pain for his actions, even if he had no true choice in them. It's a sacrifice that had to be made as long as there was a threat to the city and most importantly your life out there.

But now, as he sat there, your face pushed to his chest as you cried, and his heart cracked under the pressure of your tears, he realised that he didn't need to sacrifice your well-being this much as well. You didn't deserve it.

"Please... don't leave me like this again." Your words were quiet, so quiet that he nearly didn't catch them, but his mind and soul were only focused on you. His gaze softened as his hand ran through your hair before he pressed his head against yours in solidarity. He didn't want it to get this far. He didn't want to make you cry until even air couldn't enter your lungs.

Perhaps he had overworked himself far too hard. Perhaps he had been gone for longer than he needed to... but that will stop now.

"My apologies, my love. It won't happen again. I will try staying for longer now..." He trailed off, as he kissed your forehead and wiped away your tears. He knew he had alot to make up for, but he wasn't the type to back down from such an important mission.

And the smallest relieved smile on your tired face made it worth it.

Alrighttt... I hope this was okay! I admittedly wrote this half asleep, so I'm praying it's not terrible lmao... Anyway, thank you again for the great request, moot!!<33

[hailthegodsong]

MAYBE

One Shot ~ Sam Kiszka x Female Reader

Word Count: 17k +

A/N: This one shot was requested in October last year, so I'm so so sorry that it has taken so long to come out with. I also strayed from the ask dramatically, I hope you don't mind anon. Huge huge thanks to @hailtheaeon for being there to help me brainstorm in the process of writing this story <33

Summary: After years of struggling to move past the damage left by abusive relationships, you’ve built a life focused on safety— for yourself and your rescue dog, Bella, who carries her own scars. But when Sam's quiet kindness enters your life, the walls you’ve built start to crack. Even when fears and trauma threaten to push him away, Sam’s patience and understanding help you begin to heal. Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in doesn’t have to be a risk after all.

Content warnings: Trauma from domestic violence, descriptions of past verbal, emotional, and physical abuse, fear, anxiety, panic attack, trust issues, crying, swearing kissing.

🐾

The late afternoon sun cast golden hues over the grass that Bella ran across, her golden coat shining in the glow. This park was a quiet place, your sanctuary, where the world felt a little less sharp and the noise of your thoughts could settle. Bella, the dog you’d rescued from a local shelter just over a year ago padded beside you, her nose to the ground as she sniffed along the blades of grass and dirt below. She was your anchor, your constant companion, and a reflection of your own guarded— if not fearful nature.

Like you, she didn’t trust easily. You’d chosen her for that reason— a timid, gentle soul who had been hurt at the hands of another, just like you had. Someone who needed a safe space just as much as you did. A safe space from her fears of men. She had been rescued from neglect, and the bond you’d formed felt like a quiet understanding. You’d protect each other.

Today was supposed to be a peaceful outing, a routine part of your shared journey toward confidence. But as you strolled, you noticed a flash of movement. A dog— small, brindle, and full of energy— bounded toward you, stopping just short of your dog. Its tail wagged furiously, and it let out an excited little bark.

“Well, hello,” you murmured, crouching slightly, to show Bella that other dogs were safe. Your dog stiffened for a moment, but as the brindle one nudged her gently, Bellas tail gave a tentative wag. You blinked in surprise. That was… a quick turnaround. Bella was usually timid, cautious, and would hide behind your legs as you greeted other people, or other dogs.

Before you could process it, another dog approached— a darker one this time, bigger but just as lively. The two newcomers sniffed at your hands, tails wagging like flags in the wind, and you felt a small smile tug at your lips despite the suddenness of it all.

You glanced around the park, searching for an owner, but there was no one in sight— only you, Bella, and the two lost pups. The puppy had a collar, so you knelt and carefully checked for a tag. The name read Fox, and luckily, there was a phone number beneath it.

Your stomach twisted. Calling a stranger— a man, judging by the name scrawled on the back of the tag— made your pulse quicken. Sam, was the name. But Sam could be a woman's name too, couldn’t it? But it could also be a man, and the prospect of being alone out there with a man whom you didn't know frightened you to your core. Your hand tightened around your phone as you hesitated. What if it’s a trap? What if he’s someone you should fear? The thoughts came unbidden, unwelcome, but familiar.

You glanced back down at the dogs. They were sitting now, panting happily at your feet, and your own dog— your cautious, wary girl— was watching them with what looked like joy. You took a breath, pushed the fear aside just enough, and dialed.

The phone rang exactly twice before a man’s voice answered, slightly breathless. “Hello?”

“Hi,” you said, your voice more clipped than you intended. “I found your dog. Two, actually— Fox and another one… but I don’t know her name, she doesn’t have a collar.”

The relief in his voice was immediate and overwhelming. “Oh my God, thank you. I’ve been looking everywhere for them. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine,” you answered, glancing down at the dogs, who seemed completely unbothered by the situation. “We’re at the park with the walking trail and the big open field, near the creek. You can come pick them up.”

“Thank you so much,” he said again, his words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m so sorry— they must have gotten out of the yard. Thank you, thank you.”

“No worries,” you forced out. “See you soon.” You hung up, still gripping the phone tightly. The rational part of you knew there was no reason to distrust him— he sounded genuinely relieved, even frantic— but the cautious part, the part shaped by years of bad experiences, kept your guard up.

You sat on a bench, watching as the three dogs sprawled out near your feet. Your dog rested her head on her paws, more relaxed than you’d seen her in a long time. It stirred something warm in your chest, seeing her so content in a place that wasn't the foot of your bed. Still, a knot of worry lingered. She’d never been good with men— you’d never been good with men— and the thought of one arriving soon made your shoulders tense.

Ten minutes felt like an eternity, but eventually, a figure appeared in the distance. He was tall, with long, dark, slightly unruly hair and a hurried stride. The moment the dogs spotted him, they were off like rockets, tails wagging furiously as they lept toward him.

He dropped to his knees, his laughter ringing out as they practically bowled him over. “Hey, hey— there you are,” he says, his voice warm and full of relief. “I was so worried about you two.”

Bella stood now too, her ears perked and her tail giving the smallest of wags. She looked at you, then back at him, as if asking permission.

You rose slowly, your pulse quickening. He stood as well, the two dogs happily circling his legs, and the smaller one jumping up at his calves for attention. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you were struck by how kind they seemed.

“I can’t thank you enough,” he said, his voice earnest. “Fox is new, and she must’ve slipped out somehow. Rose must have followed her. I’ve been looking for them everywhere.”

“It’s no problem,” you assured, your voice softer than you expected. “They’re sweet dogs.”

As you spoke, Bella stepped closer to him, her nose twitching as she sniffed his ankle. He noticed and crouched slightly, holding out a hand. “And who’s this?”

“That’s Bella,” you said, quickly adding, “Um, maybe don’t— she’s not great with men. She’s a rescue.”

He pulled his hand back immediately, nodding in understanding. “Got it. Sorry about that.”

But to your shock, Bella didn’t shy away. Instead, she sniffed a little longer before her tail started wagging— a hesitant flick at first, then more assured. She stepped closer, nudging his hand with her nose.

He laughed softly, his voice gentle. “Well, hello there.” Although her advances were friendly, Sam still refrained from petting her, allowing her to feel him out herself. You stared, completely baffled. Bella didn’t do this. She didn’t trust men— not after everything she’d been through.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” you said, your voice tinged with awe.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” he replied, his tone light. “Maybe it’s because I have long hair,” he joked, and you smiled softly at him. 

Rose and Fox joined in, playfully bumping into your dog before breaking into a game of chase. They darted around your legs, tails wagging as they barked at one another and spun in dizzying circles.

Sam straightened, his smile soft. “Looks like they’ve gotten well acquainted.”

You laughed lightly, feeling a little of the tension drain from your shoulders. “Yeah. They clicked pretty fast.”

“I’m Sam, by the way,” he greeted, holding out his hand.

You hesitated for only a moment before taking it. “Nice to meet you,” you replied, the words feeling more natural than you’d expected. You introduced yourself too, watching as Sam's mouth grew into yet another gentle smile as you spoke. You pulled your hand away timidly, and turned back to your dogs, avoiding his gaze. 

As the dogs played, you caught yourself smiling— not just at them, but at him too. He seemed kind, and he seemed to understand your need for silence. It was comfortable being around him.

Sam watched the dogs play, his face lit up with genuine joy. “I think they’ve already decided they’re best friends,” he commented with a soft laugh, glancing over at you. “Rose doesn’t usually warm up to other dogs this fast.”

You smiled, a little hesitant but unable to help the warmth spreading in your chest as you watched the three of them chase each other in joyful circles. “Same with her,” you admitted, nodding toward your dog, whose tail was wagging furiously as she bounded after Rose. “She’s usually... cautious, especially in new situations.”

Sam tilted his head, studying the dogs for a moment before meeting your eyes. “You’ve done a great job with her, though. She seems really happy.”

His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn't know how to respond. Compliments always felt awkward, especially from strangers— especially from men. They were almost always ingenuine. A ruse to have you trust them— so that they could hurt you. But there was something disarming about the way Sam spoke, casual but earnest, like he really meant it.

“Thanks,” you managed, your voice soft. “It’s been a process, but... she’s worth it.”

Sam smiled sideways, and this time, it felt a little more personal, like he understood in a way that didn’t need further explanation. “I get that,” he started. “Rose was a rescue too. Took me a while to figure out her rhythm. And Fox... well, she’s still a work in progress.” He let out a boyish laugh. “But… I think we’re all a little rough around the edges, right?”

“Yeah, I guess we are.”

The conversation lulled, but it was another comfortable silence. The dogs continued their game of back and forth, weaving around the two of you with an almost choreographed grace. Bella, at one point, paused in need of a breath and trotted over to you. You bent slightly to give her a scratch behind the ear, her hand leaning into your touch, before you pulled away. Casually, she meandered over to Sam, her tail wagging slowly but surely. She nudged his hand again, and he remained mostly still, offering his hand carefully so as not to startle her.

Bella then turned, and leant her body weight against Sam's legs, watching as Fox and Rose continued their game of chase.

You watched, a mix of awe and confusion swirling inside you. “I’ve never seen her do that before,” you commented quietly. “She doesn’t trust men.”

Sam looked over to you, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened again. “Well she’s very brave, for taking a chance on me.”

Before you could think of a response, Fox barked sharply, demanding his attention. He laughed and stepped back. Bella skirted away from him at the movement, jumpy still— almost as if she had remembered to be scared.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Sam called, his voice light and teasing. He glanced back at you, his expression a mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite place. “We should probably head home now. Thanks again, by the way. For calling me. And for... you know, everything.”

You nodded, a little flustered but managing a small smile. “It was no trouble. Really.”

“Well,” he said, taking a step back but clearly not wanting to leave just yet, “If you’re ever back at this park... maybe our dogs could have another playdate?”

The suggestion caught you off guard, but the nervous manner of his tone eased your anxiety. Instead, you actually found yourself nodding. “Yeah, maybe. They seem to like each other.”

“And maybe,” Sam added, grinning, “They could even convince us humans to talk again.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Maybe,” you repeated, the word feeling like a tentative step forward.

As he walked away, his dogs trotting happily at his heels, Bella nudged your hand, looking up at you with a curious tilt of her head. You scratched behind her ears, still trying to process everything that just happened.

“Maybe,” you murmured again, this time to yourself. 

🐾

The next few days were rather bland. You and Bella meandered around the house lazily, keeping each other company with cuddles on the couch and in bed. 

You were confused, to say the least. Proud of yourself for spending so much time with Sam— and for being able to hold a conversation with him without breaking down into a panicked state, like you most often did when speaking to men, especially alone. But another part of you— the dark, afraid exterior you had put on to protect yourself— was ashamed. You’d experienced too much hurt to be naive. And letting yourself grow so fond of a man after only one introduction, solely based on a feeling you had, was utterly ridiculous. 

You wanted to keep yourself indoors forever at the thought. The idea of curling yourself in your bedsheets and never remerging sounded more alluring with each day that passed. Alas, Bella was restless, and you knew you couldn't keep her cooped up and isolated with you, no matter how much you dreaded leaving the comfort of your home. 

Getting up with a dramatic sigh, you showered, dressed, and made yourself look somewhat presentable, Bella excitedly trotting by your heels in anticipation as you got ready. You were soon out the door, as Bella gave a particularly harsh tug on the lead to get the walk started as you fumbled with your keys to lock the front door. 

It wasn’t unusual for her to be excited for her walks, but this was different, and her enthusiasm didn't let up any further into the walk. Your whole body, slanted awkwardly in an attempt to control her pulling, lest you go flying face first into the concrete, was beginning to tire at her relentless eagerness.

“Bella, what has gotten into you?” you grunted as you feebly tried to control her near frantic pace. 

Your question was answered when she turned a sharp, deliberate corner down the trail that led you to your local park. The same park where you had met Sam, and his dogs. 

“Oh, Bella,” you cooed. Her happy little face looked up at you, tongue hanging out and tail thwacking your legs as it wagged uncontrollably. 

You weren’t sure what to do. On one hand, you doubted he’d even be there again. He hadn’t even been there in the first place— had only come to pick up his dogs. But, strangely you weren’t opposed to seeing him again. His presence wasn’t forceful or uncomfortable in the slightest. Sam was easy to be with. 

But the other part of you— the rational, protective part of your mind, reasoned with you through memory. You hadn’t been treated fairly by a man— ever. Did you really expect that to change now? You’d learnt your lessons, and promised to never put yourself back in a situation like that, ever again. Yet here you were, contemplating returning to an otherwise empty park in hopes to find yourself alone with a man you had quite literally just met. 

Bella sat by your feet and whined, her paws pressing into the ground impatiently. Alas, be it naivety or some pathetic kind of hope, Sam didn’t make you feel scared. Not like other men did, at least. Sure you felt nervous, jittery, and a little guarded around him, but it was nothing compared to how you reacted to the presence of other men. No sweaty palms, erratic heart beats, panicked breathing, or racing thoughts. Just Sam, and the strangely peaceful air he had about him.

You sighed, “Alright then.” With that, Bella jumped from her spot, springing to her feet and tugging on the leash. 

After battling her tugging for the next five minutes of the walk, you re-emerged in the park you had been at a few days prior. Bellas head, much like yours, was high, scanning the area in sight of any others— in sight of Sam. 

“Get it Rose!” 

Your head turned at the sound of his voice, echoing through the park as a familiar brindle dog whizzed passed you. There Sam stood, just off to the edge of the grass, a ball thrower in hand as he watched Rose chase his latest throw. Fox was by his feet, tugging on his maroon scarf which hung unevenly over his shoulders. 

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips when you saw him, a big, cheesy smile stretched across his face. The smile turned to a frown when he felt the incessant tugging of his scarf slowly sliding off his shoulder, and he peered down to see Fox chewing at the threads. 

“Fox!” he exclaimed, kneeling to take it from her mouth. “We’ve talked about this young lady. No chewing on Daddy’s clothes, that's what your toys are for, remember?” he explained as he pried her mouth open to snatch his scarf back. 

You leaned down to unclip Bellas leash and in a flash she was bouncing off to greet them. Sam still hadn’t noticed your presence, and he startled slightly when Bella approached, dancing around his legs excitedly. 

“Well hello there!” he greeted Bella as she pressed herself into his legs. His eyes quickly jumped up to see you walking towards him, his smile returning to his face at the sight of you. “You’re back,” he commented as he rose, and took a few tentative steps forward. 

“I’m back,” you repeated, your voice kind, but a little timid. You continued to walk towards him until you stood only a couple of feet away. “Bella pulled pretty hard to come here today— couldn’t say no to that face,” you joked, gesturing to her slobbery, open mouthed smile. 

Sam blinked, and opened his mouth to say something but hesitated. He seemed to think for a moment before he settled on, “Well good, I’m glad to see you again.” By now, Rose had come bouncing back, and was sniffing at Bella by your feet. 

“Thanks… you too,” you replied, rather awkwardly you thought. 

Sam gestured to the small bench beside you with his arm. “Shall we sit?” 

You nodded, letting out a quiet breath as you moved toward the bench. Bella followed, although unclipped, her leash was tight in your grip as if it were the only thing keeping you steady. Sam sat last, leaving a respectable amount of space between you, like he somehow sensed you’d need it. 

Okay, this is fine. He’s just a guy. Sitting on a bench. It’s fine.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon,” Sam said, breaking the quiet. His tone was casual, but there was something genuine behind it, something that made your chest feel tight. Bella sniffed at his feet, her tail wagging like she’d known him for years instead of just one brief meeting. “Rose has been acting like a lovesick puppy since the last time we were here.”

You managed a small smile, glancing down at the two dogs. Rose’s tail wagged furiously as Bella sniffed at her face, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm. You envied that— how simple it was for them to just... connect. No overthinking. No fear.

Why couldn't you be like that? Why did this have to be so hard?

“I’m glad she dragged you out,” Sam added, leaning back slightly on the bench. His voice was light, but the way he said it— like he really meant it— made you glance at him. He caught your gaze for half a second before you looked away, your heart thudding too loudly in your chest.

“I almost didn’t come,” you admitted before you could stop yourself. Your gut twisted in embarrassment. Why did you have to say that?

“But you did,” he pointed out gently. “And I’m glad.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the leash. He was kind. Too kind. The way he looked at you, like he wasn’t in a rush or expecting anything from you, made something in your chest ache. It would’ve been easier if he was pushy, if he gave you a reason to shut down. But he wasn’t.

The silence stretched, and you could feel the familiar pull to retreat, to make an excuse and leave. But then Sam spoke again, his voice cutting through the fog in your head.

“You know,” he said carefully, “I’ve been meaning to try that little café down the street. The one with the uhhh…” he clicked his finger as he thought, willing the memory to existence, “What's it called? You know, the flower with the long stem and uhh…” He continued to click his fingers as he dropped his head into his other hand, rubbing at his brow bone as he tried to remember. 

“Tulip?” you offered meekly. 

“Yes!” he pointed at you, body straightening. “That big tulip artwork on the front window. Have you been? It looks nice,” he explained, hands gesturing in front of him as he described the art. 

You shook your head, “No, I haven’t been. But I’ve walked past it a few times— smells nice in there.”

Sam smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe we could check it out together sometime. If you’re up for it.”

Your heart slammed against your ribs. 

You looked at him, unsure what to say. The idea of sitting across from him, having a conversation in a quiet café, felt like a massive leap. You were not ready for this. You’d sworn off men— off dating. It hadn’t even been a question, you knew you weren’t mentally prepared to handle the things that came with being in a relationship— not now.

But at the same time, there was a tiny spark of something else— something that wanted to say yes. Would you ever be ready? Or would you spend the rest of your lonely life at home with Bella? Forced by the mental confines of your mind.

“I—uh...” You stumbled over your words, your brain fighting with itself. Say something. Say yes. He’s not going to wait forever.

“No pressure,” Sam added quickly, his tone easy. “It doesn’t have to be soon. Or ever, if.. you don't want to, or…you’re not comfortable, or… whatever.”

You exhaled shakily, gripping Bella’s leash like it was a lifeline. “No, I…” you sighed. “That sounds nice,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam’s smile didn’t falter, and that surprised you. Most people would’ve pushed or tried to pin you down for a time. But not him. “Okay,” he said simply. “Whenever you’re free.”

You nodded, feeling a flicker of relief but also something else. Maybe you could do this. Maybe.

The dogs ran off again, chasing each other in lazy circles, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to believe that you could take a step forward. Even if it was small, even if it was terrifying, you wanted to try. 

Sam's voice brought your gaze back to him again. “How about you give me your number and we can arrange a time that you’re free. Or— I mean, I can give you mine if that's better,” he shrugged, his speech beginning to turn more into a ramble than an offer. “That way you can, y’know, choose when— or if you’re free, or if you even want to do it, cause—”

“I do want to do it. Stop overthinking it,” you joked, though you knew he had every right to be worried. You had no idea how you were going to show up to this… date? Catchup? You weren't sure what it was, but the title didn't make the occasion any less daunting. Sam's happy grin encouraged your next words. “Do you have your phone on you? I can put my number into your contacts,” you suggested. 

His eyebrows lifted as he nodded, “Yeah, yeah, for sure.” He awkwardly patted his pockets before finding his phone lost somewhere inside his coat. “Here y’go.”

Sam handed you his phone, an empty contact card open for you to put your details in. This was huge. You were willingly giving a man your phone number— a man you'd practically just met. Something tugged at whatever part of your brain was responsible for decision making persistently, willing you to question if what you were doing may be stupid. You knew it wasn't smart, not after what you’d been through— what you’d experienced with men. They always started off kind, you knew that. Yet there was something about Sam that you felt you could trust, and that frightened you the most. 

As your fingers hesitated on the keyboard against his phone, you glanced down to where Bella settled by Sam's feet, staring off into the park and allowing Sam to lightly pet the middle of her back. You sighed, willing away the thoughts like they were just some annoying, unwelcomed pest, as you forced your fingers to tap the phone screen. 

“Done.” You handed his phone back to him, fingers picking at your cuticles nervously as you watched him smile and type something into his phone. Your phone buzzed from your back pocket and you slid it out to see a text message: “Here's my number too :)”

The lightheartedness of the message made your lips twitch, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corners. You glanced at Sam who was still sitting beside you, leaning back against the wooden table, looking completely at ease.

You shifted awkwardly, fiddling with Bella’s leash, though she had sprawled out at Sam's feet, panting contentedly after her play. Sam didn’t seem to notice your nerves— or maybe he did, and he just chose not to draw attention to it. Either way, his relaxed energy made it hard to feel completely on edge.

“So,” Sam began, breaking the comfortable silence. “Is this Bella's favourite park, or…?”

You nodded, glancing at him briefly before looking away. “Yeah, usually. She likes how quiet it is.”

“Quiet’s good,” he agreed, his voice warm and easy. “I usually go to that busy dog park across the city when I get the chance. Rose and Fox like to drag me out of the house to get there.”

You chuckled softly, looking at Rose, who was now sprawled out a few feet away, eyes half-closed in the sunlight. “Looks like she’s not too demanding right now.”

“Yeah, don’t let that fool you,” Sam said, leaning toward you a little as he itched his forearm, his elbow brushing yours briefly. “Ten more minutes, and she’ll be up, trying to wrestle me or something. That girl hasn't known how to take it easy for her whole life,” he laughed.

You smiled faintly, your fingers tightening on Bella’s leash. It was strange, sitting here with someone you’d only just met. Normally, this would feel like too much— too close, too personal— but with Sam, it felt... manageable.

“Anyway,” he continued, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, “I figured I’d send that text so you’ve got my number too. Just in case, y’know, Bella needs a playmate or something.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips twitching again. “Just for our dogs, huh? Not for our coffee outing?” 

Sam grinned, his shoulders shaking with a quiet laugh. “Fair point. I’m more of a sidekick in this operation. I let Fox and Rose do the heavy lifting.”

That small flicker of humor in your chest felt foreign but not unwelcome. There was no pressure to say anything. He wasn’t watching you, waiting for a response. Instead, he looked out at the park, his expression calm, like he was perfectly content to just be here.

“I don’t usually... give my number out,” you said suddenly, the words escaping before you could stop them.

Sam glanced at you, his brows lifting slightly, but he didn’t press. “Yeah? Well, I don’t usually ask for numbers in dog parks, so I guess we’re both a little out of our comfort zones.”

You snorted softly, shaking your head. “That’s... one way to look at it.”

He shifted slightly, his tone softening. “I get it, though. It’s not always easy to, uh... put yourself out there— socially, or otherwise.”

You glanced at him, feeling a pang of something— gratitude, maybe? He wasn’t prying. He wasn’t asking why or trying to dig into things you weren’t ready to share. He just... understood.

Bella nudged at your leg, and you reached down to scratch behind her ears, your fingers trembling slightly.

“You seem pretty good at it,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

Sam tilted his head, a small, almost self-deprecating smile on his lips. “You’d be surprised. I just talk a lot and hope something sticks.”

That earned a small laugh from you, and you saw his smile widen.

“Seriously, though,” he added, his voice dropping just a little, “We don’t have to do anything you’re not up for. I mean it.”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I know.”

“Good,” he said, leaning back again, his shoes toeing into the dirt beneath him nervously. “But for the record, I think Rose, Fox and Bella would make a great tag team. So if you ever want to let them hang out again, just say the word.”

Just say the word. The offer was there, present for you to take at your own accord. It didn't press you, and it didn't make you feel like if you didn’t reach out, you were letting anybody down. It was comfortable— as was everything that Sam said. The casualness of his tone made it easier to breathe.

“Okay,” you said softly. Sam smiled, his eyes crinkling at the edges. 

You glanced at your phone to check the time, a small pang of disappointment blooming in your chest. You hated that you had to leave. You wanted to stay— maybe not talk much, but just exist here with him, in the easy quiet of the park.

“I, uh, should probably head home,” you said reluctantly, rising to your feet. “I’ve got a meeting in thirty minutes.”

Sam’s brows lifted as he stood too, the easygoing smile on his face flickering with something softer. “Oh? Do you work from home?” he asked, as Bella jumped to her feet beside you, shaking out her coat.

“Yeah,” you nodded, clipping the leash onto her collar. “I don’t have to leave Bella alone for hours, so it works out.”

“Lucky Bella,” he said lightly, though his mouth stayed open, as if he wanted to keep talking— as if he didn't want the moment to end. He shook his head lightly before continuing, “Well, I’ll let you go. Don’t want you to be late or anything.”

You smiled, a small, genuine curve of your lips. “Thanks. I’ll, uh… I’ll text you,” you said, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them. The certainty in Sam’s returning smile made your chest flutter. Maybe saying it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said warmly, his eyes meeting yours in a way that felt reassuring and kind.

You nodded, a little too quickly, gripping Bella’s leash tightly as if it could keep your nerves steady. “See you.”

“Bye,” he said, his voice lingering just a moment longer. He reached for Fox and Rose, gently holding them back as they strained toward Bella, their tails wagging wildly.

You gave a small, awkward wave before turning away, the crisp air filling your lungs as you and Bella walked toward the park gate.

As you reached the edge of the park, you couldn’t help glancing back. Sam was still standing there, a hand resting idly on Rose’s back, watching as you left. When your eyes met his, he raised a hand in a casual wave, his grin as easy as ever.

You turned back around quickly, your cheeks warming against the cold. Maybe this wasn’t as terrifying as it seemed. Maybe.

Bella tugged gently on the leash, grounding you as you crossed the street and started for home. Your phone buzzed in your pocket— a message from Sam. It was a photo of Fox and Rose, their ears pricked up and eyes fixed on the empty entrance of the park, as though they were waiting for you and Bella to return.

A second message followed right after: “Looks like they’re already missing you both.”

A smile tugged at your lips before you could stop it. It was a small gesture, but something about it made your chest feel a little lighter. You slipped your phone back into your pocket without responding, telling yourself you’d reply when you got home. Maybe you’d even send him a photo of Bella in return. Maybe you’d keep the conversation going.

For the first time in what felt like forever, the thought of staying connected didn’t seem so impossible. It felt… nice.

🐾

The coffee meet-up had gone so much better than you’d imagined, better than you had even allowed yourself to hope for. The worst part— unsurprisingly— had been the lead-up. You’d paced your apartment for what felt like hours, second-guessing every decision. Your mind raced with a thousand doubts: Was this smart? Was this too soon? Were you setting yourself up for heartbreak again? Bella sat patiently by the door, watching you with her big, soulful eyes, almost as if she were silently urging you to go, to just try.

You’d arrived at the café early, jittery from nerves and a lack of sleep. When Sam walked in, his warm smile immediately eased some of your tension. He looked genuinely happy to see you, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He’d waved and slid into the seat across from you, his presence grounding but not overbearing.

Conversation had flowed naturally, which surprised you. Sam had a way of filling the space between you without making it feel stifling. He’d asked about Bella, what you did for work, and even shared a funny story about Rose stealing one of his socks that morning. When the conversation lulled, as it inevitably did, Sam didn’t make it awkward. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze wandering to the people passing by outside the café window.

“See that guy?” he’d said, nodding toward a man hurriedly crossing the street with a mismatched pair of gloves, and a bright pink scarf. “What do you reckon? He’s either late for something important or has a really funky sense of style.”

You’d followed his gaze, smiling faintly. “Maybe both.”

And just like that, the quiet moments turned into a game of people-watching. Sam made up lighthearted stories about strangers, his voice calm and easy, and for the first time in a long time, you felt safe in someone else’s company. There was no pressure, no expectation— just two people sitting across from each other, sharing a moment.

By the time you’d parted ways, your nerves had transformed into optimism. You didn’t regret coming. In fact, you were already looking forward to seeing him again.

The next morning you saw him again at the park. You hadn’t planned to go at the same time, but there he was, with Rose and Fox bounding around in the grass. You’d exchanged a smile and a wave, and soon enough, it became a daily routine. Every morning, you’d take Bella to the park, secretly hoping he’d be there too. And every morning, Sam was.

One day, as you approached the park, you noticed him holding a cup of coffee, a familiar logo on the side. He smiled as he handed it to you, his expression a mix of shy and pleased.

“I, uh, noticed what you ordered the other day,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “Thought you might like one this morning.”

You stared at the cup in your hands, warmth spreading from your fingertips to your chest. “Thank you,” you said softly, touched by the small but thoughtful gesture. From that day on, he always seemed to have a coffee ready for you. It wasn’t a grand gesture, but it meant more than he probably realized.

Still, as much as you looked forward to those mornings, your mind wasn’t entirely at ease. The scars of your past whispered doubts in the quiet moments. This is too good to be true. Men like this don’t stay this way. You’ve been here before. The memories of past relationships, of violence and betrayal, were like shadows you couldn’t shake.

But then there was Sam— patient, kind, and attentive in a way that felt entirely genuine. He didn’t push when you hesitated. He didn’t pry when you grew quiet. He just was.

When he invited you to a dinner at his house, casually mentioning that his brothers and their friends would be there, you froze. The thought of being in a group setting, of being in his home, felt like too much too soon. You’d declined, softly but firmly, and to your relief, Sam had taken it in stride.

“All good. Another time, maybe,” he’d said with a smile, as if to let you know the door was always open.

The refusal had felt good— not because you didn’t want to go, but because you were learning to set boundaries. You were opening yourself up, little by little, but you weren’t letting go of yourself in the process.

Throughout the week, Sam continued to send you pictures of Rose and Fox. They were always candid and endearing— Rose sprawled out on the couch, Fox sitting attentively by the window as if waiting for you and Bella. One evening, you found Bella lounging in her usual spot, her head tilted just so, and before you could overthink it, you snapped a picture and sent it to Sam.

“She says hi,” you’d typed, your heart fluttering as you hit send.

His reply had come almost instantly: “Tell her we say hi back. Same time tomorrow?”

You’d smiled, and without hesitation, replied: “Of course.”

🐾

A couple of days later, you found yourself bracing for a high-stakes work meeting with some of the most important executives in your company. Stress clung to you like a second skin, tightening your shoulders and quickening your breath. Your living room reflected your frayed state of mind— dog toys scattered across the floor, an abandoned mug of coffee perched precariously on the edge of the table, and a pile of laundry slumped in the corner, forgotten in your whirlwind of preparation.

You’d spent the entire morning darting between tasks: fussing with your hair, adjusting your blouse for the hundredth time, and sifting through the jumbled notes on your desk in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of order— despite the fact that the meeting started at noon. Bella had shadowed you every step of the way, her quiet presence an unspoken reminder of her unmet need for the walk she’d come to expect every morning.

Her brown eyes followed you as you paced the room, and when you finally sat down at your desk with a heavy sigh, she whined softly, settling herself at your feet.

“Bella, please,” you muttered, reaching down to give her a quick pat before returning to your computer screen. You flicked your eyes to the clock— thirty minutes until your call. The number pulsed in your mind like a ticking bomb, making your stomach twist.

Bella’s tail thumped against the floor, slow and deliberate, each wag a pointed reminder of her dissatisfaction. She huffed, letting out a low whimper, and you resisted the urge to groan. Normally, she’d be sprawled out in her favorite spot by now, worn out from a romp at the park. But today, skipping that routine had thrown her off entirely, and her restless energy was only adding to your own mounting tension.

“Bella,” you said again, your voice sharper this time, though guilt twisted in your chest. She wasn’t trying to annoy you— she just didn’t understand why things were different today. You ran a hand over your face, leaning back in your chair and staring at the ceiling.

Another loud whine that trailed off into a howl broke the silence, and you glanced down to see Bella staring up at you with wide, imploring eyes. She shifted closer, her tail wagging faster now, and let out a short, sharp bark.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you muttered, your voice tight. “You’re stressed. Join the club.”

The tension in the room felt suffocating as Bella circled your chair, her nails clicking against the hardwood floor. You bent down again, this time stroking her fur more firmly in an attempt to calm her. But as soon as you pulled away, she was pacing again, her frustration palpable.

You checked the clock once more— twenty-five minutes now— and felt a rush of panic. This meeting was important, one you couldn’t afford to be distracted during. But how were you supposed to focus with Bella practically climbing the walls? You sighed, sitting back in your chair and opening your phone to check your emails. 

Instead, you saw a new message from Sam. “Hey, no park today?” Attached was a photo of Rose and Fox, both sitting by the edge of the park, their ears pricked up like they were waiting for someone. He was still there, despite it being hours after you’d usually meet. Guilt twisted your gut.

You smiled despite yourself, typing a quick reply. “No park today :( I’ve got a busy afternoon of meetings and needed to prepare. I meant to let you know— sorry about that!”

His reply came almost instantly. “Ah okay, no worries! Good luck with your meetings :)”

Before you could put your phone down, Bella let out another pitiful whine, pacing back and forth near the door.

You replied. “Thanks. I think I’ll need it— Bella won’t stop whining and whimpering. I think she missed you guys. I don’t know what to do.”

Sam responded immediately. “Maybe just lock her in another room with some toys and treats?”

You sighed, wincing as Bella barked piercingly. “Can't. She’s got attachment anxiety. Starts to rip things up if she's left alone.”

You hit send, leaning back in your chair as Bella plopped down dramatically near the door, her eyes fixed on it like she was willing it to open, letting high pitched whines leave her throat.

A minute passed without a reply, and you were about to set your phone aside when it buzzed.

“I can come by and look after her for however long if you’d like? Take her out for a walk until your meeting is over?”

You stared at the message, your heart skipping a beat. He’s really offering to do this? The idea of letting someone into your space, even Sam, made you hesitate. But at the same time, you couldn’t deny how kind the offer was— or how badly you needed help right now.

You bit your lip as you replied. “Thanks Sam, but Bella doesn’t like being away from me. She gets really anxious.”

His reply came quickly. “I could just hang out with her in another room if you’d prefer? All good if not, of course, but the offer’s there.”

You set your phone down, your thoughts spinning. Bella whined again, pacing back to your chair and pawing at your leg.

“Bella,” you scolded gently. “Quiet.” You stood and grabbed her bowl, filling it with a few treats in hopes of distracting her, but she barely glanced at it. She let out a sharp bark, scratching at the front door now.

“Bella! Stop!” you said, exasperated, but she wasn’t listening.

You glanced at the clock— twenty minutes until your call. Another bark echoed through the apartment, and you dropped your head into your hands. “Okay, okay!” you muttered, grabbing your phone and opening the messages again.

“Yeah, I might have to take you up on that offer, if you wouldn’t mind.”

His response came almost immediately. “Of course :) Do you mind if I bring the girls?”

You sighed in relief. “Of course not. I’ll text you my address. My call is in 20 minutes, though.”

“Perfect. I’ll be there in 10.”

You exhaled, tension leaving your shoulders as you sent him your address. Bella looked up at you expectantly, and you gave her a small smile. “Someone’s coming to rescue you, happy now?” She whined at your words, eyes looking to and from the door as she impatiently waited for you to take her out. 

While you waited, you found yourself fidgeting with your reflection in the hallway mirror. It was ridiculous, really— the meeting with the board members hadn’t inspired this level of concern, but knowing Sam was on his way had you smoothing down your hair and adjusting the hem of your sweater like a teenager before prom.

“Get a grip,” you muttered under your breath, brushing an invisible speck of lint off your sleeve. Bella whined softly from her spot near the door, her tail wagging with anticipation. And now, you tried to focus on the sound of her impatience instead of the nervous fluttering in your stomach.

The sharp knock at the door made Bella erupt into a frenzy of barking, spinning in circles by your feet. You felt your heart jolt, but not from the noise. It was that brief, nagging moment of doubt— a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that you were about to let a man into your home.

For a split second, you froze, your hand hovering over the lock. But then Bella barked again, her paws scratching at the door in her impatience, and you shoved the thought aside. This was Sam. Sam, who brought coffee to the park every morning. Sam, who made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t in a long time. You took a breath and opened the door.

“Hey!” Sam greeted you, his smile warm and disarming.

The dogs went wild, Bella barking and wagging her tail like a propeller as Rose and Fox tugged excitedly on their leashes. The narrow entryway became a chaotic blur of wagging tails and happy whines as you tried to wrangle Bella away from the tangle of Sam’s dogs.

“Come in, quick,” you said, stepping aside to let them all in before the noise woke your neighbors. Bella followed Rose and Fox eagerly as they darted into the living room, their tails wagging in unison.

“You can take their leashes off,��� you told Sam, watching as he crouched to unclip them. The dogs bounded off to explore, Bella right on their heels, and the house fell into an almost eerie quiet after the explosion of noise. 

You turned back to Sam, who had straightened up and was now standing with his hands tucked casually into his coat pockets. His gaze lingered on you for a moment, his expression softening.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice warm but casual, as though it was just a simple observation and not a compliment that sent your pulse racing.

Your cheeks flushed, and you glanced down, brushing at your sweater even though you knew there was nothing on it. “Oh, uh… thanks. This meeting’s kind of a big deal.” Lie. You fixed your appearance for him. “Thank you for coming”

Sam’s smile widened, and he shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to help. Plus, I could hear Bella whining from the street.” 

You laughed as you watched her whizz past you both into the living room, Rose and Fox hot on her heels. 

“Where do you want me?” Sam asked, reminding you that you needed to get a move on if you wanted to make this meeting in time. 

“Anywhere is fine. I’ll be in my little office so as long as Bella doesn't come in it’ll be fine. Though, I suspect she’ll be quiet now that you guys are here.”

Sam nodded and ran a hand through his hair, and you took a moment to admire how long and healthy it looked. You had to ask him what products he used to get it looking so shiny. “Does the living room sound okay?” he asked, gesturing to the couch. You cringed at the sight of the messy room. 

“Yeah, of course. Sorry the place is such a mess. And help yourself to anything from the kitchen if you're hungry or thirsty. We have tea, too, if you'd like.”

Sam smiled as his gaze swept over your living room. “Alright, thanks. I'll go... gather the pack.”

You laughed softly, grateful for his ease. “Thanks. My meeting is until two, and I’ll have just a little bit of work to get through after that. Give me a shout if you need anything.”

With that, you headed back to your office, the door clicking gently behind you. As you settled into your chair and shuffled through your notes, the familiar sound of the kettle whistling from the kitchen reached your ears, accompanied by the rhythmic panting of the dogs as they sprawled in the living room. The noises were oddly comforting, grounding you in the moment.

Two minutes before your call was set to begin, the door to your office nudged open, creaking softly on its hinges. You glanced up, expecting Bella, but instead, there was Sam. He held a steaming mug of tea in his hand, hovering just inside the doorway, careful not to disrupt anything. His gaze darted to your screen, checking to see if you were on the call yet.

“Oh,” you said, pleasantly surprised. “Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Sam waved it off with an easy shrug, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Pfft, it’s nothing. Good luck with your call,” he said, holding up a thumbs-up.

You smiled, warmed by the gesture, and murmured your thanks again. He slipped out just as quietly as he’d entered, carefully shutting the door behind him.

The call, as expected, was long and dull— slides full of graphs, executives droning on about projections, and polite but strained small talk. Your attention kept drifting. Every so often, you’d hear faint noises from the next room— Sam’s voice, low and warm, talking to the dogs. You couldn’t make out the words, but the sound of his laughter reached you now and then, and it made you smile. You wished you were out there with him, soaking up his easy energy instead of slogging through a seemingly endless meeting.

When the call finally ended, and you’d rushed through whatever work you needed to do for the rest of the day, you exhaled a long sigh of relief and pushed yourself up from your chair, stretching your arms overhead. You made your way to the living room, the low hum of conversation growing clearer as you approached.

But as you rounded the corner, you stopped in your tracks.

The living room, which had been a mess of dog toys, cushions askew, and Bella’s fur tumbleweeds, was now spotless. The toys had been neatly piled in the corner, the couch cushions were fluffed and straightened, and even the coffee table had been wiped down. You glanced toward the kitchen and saw the dishes that had been piled in the sink were now washed and drying on the rack. The counters, which had been cluttered with remnants of your rushed breakfast, were clear.

Sam was crouched on the floor, tugging gently at a rope toy while Bella growled playfully. He looked up as your shadow crossed the room, his face lighting up with a grin. “Hey! Meeting over?”

Your heart squeezed at the sight of him so effortlessly at home. “Yeah,” you said, your voice soft. “Did you… clean up?”

He shrugged, standing and brushing his hands on his jeans. “Hope you don’t mind. I figured you had enough on your plate, and the dogs were napping.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned. “That’s… really sweet. Thank you.”

“It wasn’t trouble,” he insisted, his voice gentle but sincere. “I just wanted to make things easier for you.”

You hesitated, your heart stumbling over itself at his kindness. Before you could stop yourself, the words were tumbling out. “You know… you’ve already done so much, but if you don’t have plans, you could stay for dinner?”

Sam blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“You wouldn’t be,” you interrupted quickly, then added with a soft laugh, “Honestly, I’d love to make you dinner as a thank-you. You’ve helped so much today.” You glanced at your watch seeing it was just after three in the afternoon. “I know it’s still early but…” you shrugged.

His hesitation lingered for a moment, but then his lips curved into that easy smile. “If you’re sure, I’d like that. But only if I get to help.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—”

“Come on,” he interrupted, already heading toward the kitchen. “You’re doing me a favor by letting me stay. Let me at least chop something.”

You sighed with a sarcastic roll of your eyes. “Alright then, if you insist.”

Sam smiled cheekily and jumped from his spot on the couch to follow you to the kitchen. You'd decided on a simple pasta dish, and the kitchen quickly came alive with activity as you both worked side by side. Sam had insisted on chopping vegetables, though his knife skills left much to be desired.

“You know,” he said, holding up a piece of onion that was noticeably uneven, “I think I’m getting the hang of this.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you took the cutting board from him. “Sure, if you were trying to invent abstract vegetable art.”

He laughed, leaning against the counter as he watched you take over. “I’ll have you know, my abstract art is highly sought after. Just wait till you see my tomato slicing.”

“God help me,” you teased, shaking your head.

The banter flowed easily between you as you moved around the kitchen. Sam stirred the sauce with dramatic flair, claiming he was a “culinary genius,” while you rolled your eyes and corrected his seasoning suggestions.

“You’re gonna regret doubting me when this sauce wins an award,” he said, tapping the spoon against the edge of the pot.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, turning to grab a pot for the pasta. “I’ll make sure to nominate it for Most Over-Seasoned Dish.”

“Rude,” he muttered, though he was grinning.

At one point, while you were boiling the pasta, Sam stepped behind you to grab plates from the cabinet. The brush of his arm against yours was fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you. You glanced at him, finding his focus entirely on the task at hand, as if he hadn’t noticed.

The domesticity of it all was surreal. You hadn’t had anyone in your kitchen like this in years— working together, laughing, existing in a space that felt so normal, yet so foreign to you.

Once the food was ready, you carried the plates while Sam grabbed the water glasses, and without much conversation, the two of you gravitated toward the couch. Somehow, eating there felt more natural than sitting stiffly at the dining table.

Sam handed you your plate before settling in beside you, leaving enough space between you to keep it comfortable. He looked around, scanning the small stack of DVDs you had near the TV. “Dinner and a movie,” he said, glancing at you with a grin. “You’ve officially spoiled me.”

You smiled softly, sitting down a little more cautiously than him, keeping a small gap between you. “And you can pick the movie, too.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Bold move, letting me choose. I’m warning you, I have excellent taste.”

“Let’s see how excellent it really is,” you teased, tucking your legs beneath you as you took a bite of your food.

Sam, however, froze after his first bite. His eyes widened, and he turned to you with an exaggerated look of awe. “Okay, what is this? Did you make a deal with the devil or something? This is incredible.”

You snorted, trying to hide your grin. “It’s just pasta, Sam.”

“No,” he insisted, pointing his fork at you dramatically. “This is art. It’s poetry. I didn’t even know food could taste like this.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re keeping me fed. It’s only fair I hype you up. But you better give me the recipe before I leave tonight.”

Your cheeks warmed at his playful sincerity, and you ducked your head to take another bite, hoping he wouldn’t notice. The banter eased something in you, though— like you weren’t trying too hard, like you could just be in the moment with him.

Eventually, Sam settled on a movie, popping it into the player before sinking back into the couch with his plate. “Okay, so this one’s a classic,” he said, gesturing toward the TV. “If you hate it, I’ll take the blame, but I promise, it’s amazing.”

“I’m holding you to that,” you said, though your tone was lighter than before.

The movie started, and for a while, the focus shifted to the screen. You found yourself occasionally glancing at him out of the corner of your eye— his easy posture, the way he laughed a little too loudly at the jokes, the way he balanced his plate effortlessly while gesturing with his fork as if narrating the scenes. God, he was such a dork. 

You seemed to gravitate towards one another as you settled into the couch, your dogs soon joining you as they lay on top of each other happily. 

The movie continued to drone on in the background. At first, you’d tried to stay engaged, nodding along at the occasional joke Sam laughed at, but gradually, your attention began to wander. Your fingers toyed with the hem of your sweater, and your plate of half-eaten pasta sat forgotten on the coffee table.

It had been such a nice evening so far— surprisingly so. Sam had been kind, thoughtful, even funny in a way that made you feel at ease. But now, in the quiet comfort of your living room, with him sitting just a little too close, the questions started creeping in.

Why had you asked him to stay?

It had felt right in the moment, natural even. But now, the edges of doubt started to fray that confidence. You barely knew him. Sure, you’d seen him at the park almost every morning, but how much did you really know about him? Enough to invite him into your home? Enough to cook dinner together like… like this was normal?

Your fingers fidgeted against your lap as your chest tightened.

Sure, he seemed nice. But doesn’t it always start like that?

The thought hit you like a cold wave. Your mind turned back to memories you tried so hard to keep buried— moments you didn’t want to revisit but couldn’t stop from surfacing. The times when smiles and kind words turned into raised voices, sharp insults, slammed doors. Or worse.

Your breathing quickened as flashes of those memories filled your mind: the weight of someone’s anger looming over you, the sting of being told you weren’t enough, the fear of not knowing what would set him off next. The boundaries you’d built so carefully around yourself now felt perilously close to crumbling, all because you’d let one man in.

Your stomach twisted. What if this was a mistake? What if he was just better at hiding it than the others?

You glanced at Sam from the corner of your eye. He looked completely at ease, focused on the movie, his body relaxed against the couch. But that didn’t calm the growing unease in your chest. He was sitting close— too close. And while you knew it wasn’t threatening, the proximity still made you acutely aware of your vulnerability.

Your mind raced. You shouldn’t have asked him to stay. You shouldn’t have sent him your address. You shouldn’t—

Bella shifted from her spot on the floor, her soft snuffling breaking your spiraling thoughts. She curled up closer to Sam’s feet, her tail thumping lazily against the floor. He reached down to give her a gentle scratch behind the ears without breaking his attention from the screen.

Something about that small gesture grounded you for a moment. Your breath caught, and you tried to focus on it— on Bella, on the way Sam’s touch was calm and unassuming. And on the way Bella trusted him. But the unease lingered, creeping in at the edges.

This was too much. Too fast.

Your chest felt tight, and you didn’t know how you were going to make it through the rest of the movie. You wanted to get up, to create some space, to pull yourself out of this situation— but you didn’t want to draw attention to your panic. You didn’t want him to notice.

Sam noticed, of course. He always did. “You okay?” he asked, his tone casual, but his eyes searching.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, trying to sound convincing. “Just… full. Food coma incoming.”

He chuckled, not pressing the issue. “Understandable. I’d be out cold too if I wasn’t so invested in your reaction to this movie.”

You gave him a small smile, but your nerves didn’t completely ease. You shifted slightly, creating just enough space between you to make yourself feel a little safer.

The movie carried on, and so did your thoughts. 

You were so lost in your thoughts that the sudden movement beside you felt like a thunderclap. Sam shifted forward on the couch to grab the remote, reaching toward the coffee table. The motion was quick, his hand brushing past yours as he grabbed the remote.

It was such a small movement, but with your mind racing the way it was, you knew anything could have set you off. You flinched, hard, instinctively pulling back as if you’d been burned. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, muscles tensing and your breath hitching audibly.

The air between you shifted immediately. Sam froze, his hand hovering midair as his eyes snapped to yours. His brow furrowed with concern.

“Woah,” he said softly, his voice calm but tinged with worry. “What was that? Are you okay?”

You tried to force a laugh, to wave it off, but the sound that came out was shaky and unconvincing. “Yeah, sorry. Just… startled me.”

Sam didn’t look convinced. He set the remote down gently on the table and turned his full attention to you, his hands now resting loosely on his knees. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said carefully, his tone deliberate and measured, as though he didn't want to push you further into discomfort.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with the lingering panic in your chest. “It’s fine,” you mumbled, looking down at your lap. “I just… I don’t know. I guess I was in my own head.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze steady but soft. “Okay,” he said, leaving a pause for you to fill if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he added, “If I did something to make you uncomfortable, you can tell me. I’d never want to—” He stopped himself, his words trailing off, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable.

He sighed, and you listened awkwardly as the film continued to play in the background. 

The tension in your chest loosened just a fraction at his words. He wasn’t pressing, wasn’t pushing for answers. He was simply… there. Present. And the way he sat, his posture open and relaxed, made it feel like the ball was entirely in your court.

“It’s not you,” you finally admitted, your voice quiet but steady. “I just… sometimes I get a little jumpy. It’s stupid.”

Sam shook his head immediately. “It’s not stupid.” He hesitated, glancing briefly at Bella, who was now watching the two of you with curious eyes. When he looked back at you, his voice was gentle but firm. “Whatever made you feel like that, it’s not stupid. And if there’s ever something I’m doing that doesn’t feel okay, just tell me. I mean it.”

The knot in your stomach unraveled just a bit more at his words. You nodded, not trusting yourself to say anything without your voice shaking. You bit your cheek as you felt your eyes fill to the brim with tears. God, this was so embarrassing. 

Sam's features softened impossibly further, his hand lifting to reach you, but it hesitated in the air. 

You quickly turned your head away, scratching the back of your head nervously as you blinked furiously, trying to will away your tears. “I’m sorry, I don’t—” You shook your head, wiping a hand over your face before you reluctantly faced Sam again. “I don’t know what's gotten into me.” 

You did, but Sam didn’t need to know that. You pulled all your energy together to force the tears at bay, and returned your gaze to Sam. 

Sam shifted slightly on the couch, his expression caught somewhere between concern and uncertainty. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice careful like he was walking a tightrope. “I don’t want to overstep or make you uncomfortable, but if there’s anything I can do... or if you just want me to shut up and leave you alone, I can do that too.”

You shook your head quickly, your breath hitching as you fought back the lump in your throat. “No, it’s not you,” you repeated, your voice strained. “I just... I’m a mess right now. You don't need to do anything.”

Sam tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he spoke. “I want to, though. Because I care,” he said simply, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world. His gaze flicked over your closed-off body language, the way your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself, and you could see the hesitation in him. He didn’t want to push.

He sighed softly, glancing down at Rose and Fox, who were curled up near his feet. “Maybe I should get going,” he said carefully, testing the waters. “It’s late anyway, and these two need their beauty sleep.” He smiled faintly, gesturing toward his dogs, but his eyes stayed on you, gauging your reaction.

Your heart twisted at his words, and you bit your lip instinctively, and your voice came out quiet and unsure. “I’m sorry.”

Sam hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line before he offered you a small, understanding smile. “No, it’s alright,” he said gently. “I can see you need some time to yourself. And that’s okay. I get it.” His tone was so soft, so genuine, that it made your chest ache.

You couldn’t bring yourself to argue. You just nodded, your voice caught somewhere in your throat as you stood to walk him to the door. Bella followed silently at your side, her usual energy replaced with a quiet understanding of the tension in the room.

Sam gathered Rose and Fox, leashing them up before turning back to you. “Thank you for tonight,” he said, his voice warm despite the weight in the air. “Dinner was amazing. And... I hope you’ll text me if you need anything, alright?”

You nodded again, barely able to meet his eyes. “Thanks, Sam. I will.”

With that, he gave you a faint smile, one last glance that lingered a second too long before he opened the door and stepped out into the night. As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a shaky breath, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall, burying your face in your hands.

The tears came fast and heavy, spilling over like a dam had finally broken inside you. It felt like you cried for hours, each sob pulling from a deep well of pain and frustration you’d kept buried for far too long. You hated this— hated the way your trauma had its claws in every part of your life, ruining even the good things you tried so desperately to hold onto. You wanted to be normal, to feel normal. But instead, you felt broken, incapable of letting anyone in without breaking apart.

Your phone buzzed on the floor beside you, and you wiped at your tear-streaked face as you reached for it, your vision blurry as you unlocked the screen.

It was Sam. “Thank you for dinner tonight. I had a great time. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

The knot in your chest tightened at his words. Even now, he was worried about you, trying to make sure you were okay when he didn’t have to. You stared at the message for a long moment, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as fresh tears blurred your vision.

🐾

The next morning, sunlight streamed through your curtains, far brighter than it should have been. You groaned, sitting up in bed as Bella stretched out beside you, her tail thumping against the blankets. Reaching for your phone, you squinted at the time and felt a pang of guilt hit your chest.

It was late. Too late. You’d missed the park. Again.

“Bella,” you murmured, the sound more like a frustrated groan than anything, rubbing your face as the weight of your restless night settled on your shoulders. Her ears perked up at her name, and she let out a soft, hopeful bark, her eyes darting to the door. She didn’t understand why you hadn’t gotten up earlier, why your routine had been thrown off, but she still looked at you like she trusted you to make it right.

Your thoughts immediately flicked to Sam. He’d probably been at the park with Rose and Fox, glancing toward the entrance like he always did. Waiting. And you hadn’t shown up. Guilt twisted in your chest, but it wasn’t just about missing the park. It was the reason you’d overslept.

The dream— no, the memory— had dragged you back into the dark. It had been so vivid, so real. His voice still echoed in your mind, sharp and cutting, a hand falling down to strike you. It wasn’t the worst memory you’d ever had, but it reminded you of everything. The fear. The helplessness. The suffocating feeling of never being safe, no matter what you did.

And then there was last night— flinching at Sam. The look on his face when you pulled away. The ache in your chest knowing it had nothing to do with him and everything to do with what had been done to you.

You sighed, staring at Bella as she sat at your feet, her tail wagging cautiously, as though trying to coax you into feeling better.

“I know, girl,” you whispered, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. “We’ll go tomorrow.”

But tomorrow wasn’t really what weighed on you. It was the thought of Sam. The thought of how kind and patient he’d been. And the fear that you’d ruined whatever fragile thing was starting to grow between you two.

You weren’t going to let it happen again.

Your past— the yelling, the broken glass, the bruises you’d hidden under long sleeves— had taken so much from you already. But it wasn’t going to take this. It wasn’t going to take Sam. You refused to let those men, those memories, ruin something good. You weren't going to let them continue to control you. 

As you made your way to the kitchen, Bella trailing at your heels, you resolved to text him. To explain, even if it felt awkward or difficult. You couldn’t let the silence between you grow. But before you could, your phone buzzed on the counter. Picking it up, you saw Sam’s name lighting up the screen, and your heart gave an involuntary jolt.

The text read: “Hey, just wanted to check in. Missed you guys at the park this morning. Everything okay?”

You stared at the message for a long moment before typing out a reply. “Hey, yeah, I’m okay. Just overslept, sorry.”

His reply came almost instantly: “Not a worry :) I hope you got some rest at least. The girls missed Bella.”

You smiled softly, though a flicker of nerves still lingered before recycling. “I did, thanks.” 

Before you could overthink it, another message popped up: “I was thinking, I’ve been working on this recipe, and I might need some help. You know, use your culinary skills and all. Also could use someone to taste-test it and tell me if it’s edible.”

You blinked at the screen, reading it twice. Your heart gave a small flutter, but you couldn’t tell if it was from nerves or something softer.

Another message popped up: “No pressure, though. If you’re busy or not feeling it, totally fine. Just thought it might be nice.”

He was careful. You could tell he was trying not to push after last night, and the effort didn’t go unnoticed. Your chest tightened, but not in a bad way. You stared at the message, torn. Dinner. At his place. Alone. The idea felt heavy, but not because of Sam— because of you. Still, you didn’t want to let fear win again. And besides, the way he framed it felt low stakes, almost casual.

Before you could overthink it, another message arrived: “Also, Rose has been stealing things off the counter lately, and I could really use some advice before she eats something she shouldn’t.”

That made you smile, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as Bella nudged your leg. 

“Okay”, you finally typed. “But I’m not an expert, so no promises about Rose.”

The reply came almost instantly: “You’ll do better than me. Friday night? Around 7?”

“Yeah, that works,” you wrote, your pulse quickening.

Sam followed up quickly: “Great. If you change your mind, don’t feel bad, just let me know.”

“I’ll be there,” you replied, before you could talk yourself out of it.

His final message was simple, but it made you smile again: “Looking forward to seeing you. And Bella too, of course. She’s my secret weapon to keep Rose and Fox in line.”

You set the phone down, exhaling slowly. Bella wagged her tail, watching you like she knew something important had just happened.

“I guess we’re going to Sam’s on Friday,” you murmured to her.

Bella’s tail thumped harder, and you reached down to scratch behind her ears. Nerves churned in your stomach, but there was something else there too. Something steadier. A kind of strength in the fact that you knew you were growing. You were leaving that shit behind you. 

Though, the doubts were still there, lingering just beneath the surface like they always were. As you stared at Sam’s text, you tried to push them down. You wanted to move on. You wanted to reclaim the part of your life that felt stolen. Dinner with Sam was a step forward. It wasn’t a declaration of trust or a promise to let your guard down completely, but it was something. Besides, Sam had never given you a reason to fear him. If anything, he���d gone out of his way to make you feel safe. You reminded yourself of his soft patience, his quick smile, the way he’d thanked you for dinner even after you’d practically fallen apart the night before. If anyone deserved a little faith, it was him.

The next few mornings at the park felt like an unspoken agreement to ease the tension. Sam didn’t mention your flinch or your teary goodbye. He treated you just the same as always— grinning as you approached, offering Bella a warm hello, and making little jokes as the dogs ran wild. It was comforting in a way, like he knew you needed the space to find your footing again.

By the time the evening of the dinner rolled around, you’d talked yourself into believing this was a good thing. A normal thing. Still, nerves clawed at your stomach as you approached Sam’s place. Bella trotted at your side, oblivious to your inner turmoil, but her calm presence grounded you just enough to knock on the door.

Sam answered almost immediately, his face lighting up when he saw you. “Hey, you made it,” he said warmly, stepping aside to let you in.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice a little quieter than you wanted it to be. “Thanks for inviting me.”

Sam offered a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Of course. And thanks for bringing Bella. The girls will be happy to see her.” 

As you stepped inside, you glanced around nervously. His house was cozy, filled with warm light and signs of life— a guitar leaning against the wall, a piano tucked into the far corner and a few books stacked on the coffee table, and a faint smell of something savory coming from the kitchen.

“You can let her off the leash if you want,” Sam said, gesturing toward Bella, who was already sniffing around curiously. “The girls are in the backyard. She can join them whenever.”

“Okay,” you said, unclipping her leash. Bella wagged her tail, giving you a reassuring glance before trotting off to explore.

“Dinner’s going to take a little while,” Sam said, nodding toward the kitchen. “Hope you’re ready to help, because I’m not exactly known for my cooking skills.”

You let out a nervous laugh, following him toward the kitchen. “Should I be worried?”

“Probably,” he teased, opening the fridge to pull out some ingredients. “Honestly, I need you to save me here. If you leave me to it, we’re eating charred chicken and plain rice.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you reached for a cutting board. “Good thing I’m here, then.”

“Exactly,” he said, smirking as he handed you a knife. “I knew you’d make this work.”

The lightness of his tone started to ease the tension in your chest. As you chopped vegetables and Sam worked beside you— throwing in exaggerated instructions and grinning every time he “consulted” you— it felt easy. Comfortable, even. You found yourself laughing more than you thought you would, and when Sam tasted the sauce you made and dramatically declared it “life-changing,” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head.

“Ridiculously lucky to have you helping me,” he shot back, his grin boyish and teasing. You looked back at the chopping board with a hint of a blush. 

As the minutes ticked by, it became painfully clear that Sam and the sauce were not meant to be. He stirred it with all the confidence of a man who thought he knew what he was doing, but the sizzling sounds and occasional splatters told a very different story.

“Sam,” you said slowly, watching as he aggressively poked at the bubbling liquid with a wooden spoon, “what exactly are you doing?”

He glanced at you, utterly unbothered by the chaos he was creating. “Improvising,” he replied with a grin, giving the sauce an extra stir that sent a small splash onto the counter.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “It looks more like you’re waging war on it.”

“I’m adding character,” he said, feigning offense as he swirled the spoon around dramatically. “This is what chefs do— they experiment.”

“Chefs don’t usually burn the sauce, though,” you teased, leaning over to sniff the air. “Seriously, is that… smoke?”

He froze, his grin faltering as he gave the pot a closer look. “Okay, maybe it’s a little toasted. That’s a flavor profile, right?”

“Not when it smells like a campfire,” you shot back, stepping in to gently nudge him aside. “Alright, sauce master, let’s trade. I’ll handle this before it becomes a kitchen emergency.”

Sam relinquished the spoon with a mock pout, stepping back to let you take over. “Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “But only because I don’t want to deprive you of the joy of saving dinner.”

“Oh, how selfless of you,” you replied dryly, shooting him a playful glare before turning your attention to salvaging the sauce.

From behind you, Sam muttered something about being unappreciated, but when you glanced over your shoulder, you caught him grinning as he began chopping vegetables with exaggerated precision, clearly unbothered by his failed attempt at culinary greatness.

“You know,” he said, watching you expertly stir the sauce, “I think this is your master plan—let me screw something up so you can come in and save the day.”

“Obviously,” you quipped, shaking your head. “I mean, what better way to assert dominance in the kitchen than by rescuing dinner from your reckless hands?”

As you got started on stirring the sauce, Sam opened a cabinet and frowned. “Forgot the thyme. Again. Be right back— got some in the garden.”

You blinked, surprised. “You have a garden?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he shot back with a grin, grabbing the back door handle. “I’m full of surprises.”

You snorted. “What’s next? A compost bin?”

“Mock me all you want,” he called over his shoulder as he stepped outside. “But when this thyme makes you cry over how good this sauce tastes, you’ll owe me an apology!”

As Sam slipped out the back door to grab herbs from his garden, the house fell silent, save for the faint shuffle of the dog's paws as they followed him to the window, tails wagging lazily. You stood in the kitchen, absently wiping your palms on a tea towel. It was strange how quiet everything felt without Sam’s warm, easy presence nearby.

You glanced at the knife you’d been using earlier, resting precariously close to the edge of the counter. Muttering under your breath, you reached out to adjust it. As you stretched to grab the handle, your wrist brushed the corner of a wine glass that had been drying by the side of the sink.

Time seemed to slow as the glass tipped, wobbling once before gravity claimed it. It slipped from the counter and plummeted to the floor, shattering with a deafening crash.

The sound tore through the stillness like a gunshot. Instantly, your chest tightened, your breath catching as your heart began to race. It was so loud. So, so loud. And there was glass everywhere. Shit, shit, shit, shit. The sharp, crystalline sound echoed in your ears, and your mind reeled.

For a moment, you froze, staring at the shards scattered across the floor, gleaming like jagged little stars. Your vision blurred, and the kitchen around you seemed to waver, the walls closing in as a familiar, suffocating sense of dread washed over you.

The world around you dissolved into a haze. The glass wasn’t just glass anymore— it was every slammed door, every smashed object that had signaled danger in the past. Your pulse roared in your ears, drowning out any rational thoughts. Your hands shook as you instinctively dropped to your knees, fumbling for the larger shards, desperate to clean it up before Sam came back inside.

“Oh God, oh God,” you whispered frantically, your voice trembling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh God.”

The words tumbled out in a panicked, incoherent mess as your hands worked faster, clutching at the broken pieces, heedless of the sharp edges biting into your fingertips. The sting barely registered; all you could think about was fixing it, making it right, undoing the mistake.

Bella barked once, and you wondered briefly if it was at Sam, but you hardly noticed. Your breathing grew shallow and uneven, your chest heaving as you fought to keep the panic at bay.

The back door swung open with a creak, and Sam’s voice called out, worriedly, “Hey, what was that? Are you okay?”

He stepped inside, his gaze falling to the scene before him. You were kneeling on the floor, your shoulders hunched and trembling, surrounded by a sea of broken glass.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” he said quickly, his voice softening as he set the herbs on the counter. “What happened? Are you okay?”

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t do anything but mumble a frantic stream of apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to— I’ll fix it, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I’ll—”

“Hey,” Sam interrupted gently, crouching down a safe distance away. His tone was calm, careful, like he was trying not to spook a skittish animal. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Just stop for a second, okay? You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

You shook your head, your hands still trembling as you tried to pick up another shard. “I have to clean it up. I— I can’t leave it like this. I didn’t mean to—”

“Stop,” Sam said more firmly this time, his hand hovering near yours but not touching. “Please. Just stop.”

His voice cut through the haze, grounding you for a moment. Your hands faltered, falling still as you finally looked up at him. His face was open, his brow furrowed with concern. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t upset.

“Let me handle it,” he said softly, holding your gaze. “You don’t have to do this. Just… take a breath for me, okay?”

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling over. “I ruined everything—”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said, cutting you off again. “Hey, listen to me. It’s fine. Really. I don’t care about the glass. I care about you.”

His words hit you like a lifeline, cutting through the spiral of panic just enough for you to take a shaky breath.

You bit your lip, wiping at your face as you tried to pull yourself together. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again.

“Don’t be,” he said simply, without a hint of frustration or condescension. “It’s okay.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded, your chest heaving as you tried to follow his instructions. Your hands hovered over the shards for a moment longer before you finally let the glass clatter to the floor, your hands falling limply into your lap.

“That’s it,” Sam murmured, his voice low and soothing. He crouched in front of you, his hands hovering just over yours, hesitant. “Can I—?” he started to ask, and when you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, he gently wrapped his fingers over your hand. His touch was careful, deliberate, as if he knew the wrong move might send you spiraling further.

His thumbs brushed over your knuckles, his touch warm and grounding. “Okay,” he said softly, his eyes fixed on yours, kind and steady. “Let’s just breathe together. You’re safe. Right here, you’re safe.”

You tried to focus on his words, but your chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself, your lungs refusing to fill properly. Your breaths came quick and shallow, each one catching like it wasn’t enough.

“In through your nose,” Sam coaxed, his voice a quiet anchor in the chaos. He exaggerated the motion, inhaling deeply, slow and steady, his shoulders rising just enough for you to notice. “Like this. Just follow me.”

You tried, your breaths hitching at first, but he stayed with you. His eyes didn’t leave yours— not for a second. They weren’t impatient or searching for the right thing to say. They were just… there, holding you in place like a tether.

“That’s it,” he encouraged when you managed even a fraction of a steady inhale. “Now out through your mouth. Slow, like this,” he demonstrated again, his exhale controlled and quiet, and you mirrored it as best you could.

Your hands trembled under his, and he squeezed them gently, his thumbs never stopping their slow, soothing rhythm. “You’re okay,” he said, his tone so soft, so certain, it almost broke something inside you.

Your chest still felt tight, but the air was coming a little easier now, your breaths slowing in uneven increments. Your vision, blurry from tears and panic, began to clear, and you could see the worry etched into his face, the way his brow furrowed just slightly.

“You’re doing so good,” he said, his voice steady, never wavering. “Just keep going. One breath at a time.”

You nodded weakly, tears spilling over despite your efforts to keep them at bay. A shaky sob broke free, and you quickly turned your head, ashamed, but Sam’s grip on your hands tightened, grounding you.

“Hey,” he said softly, pulling your gaze back to him. “It’s okay. You don’t have to hide. Not from me.”

His words hit like a gentle wave, washing over the raw edges of your panic. You blinked rapidly, trying to pull yourself together, but his unwavering presence made it harder to keep the walls up.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he said immediately, his tone firm but gentle. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything. I promise.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net, and though the panic hadn’t completely left, it was no longer suffocating. Slowly, your breathing evened out, the shaking in your hands subsiding under the warmth of his.

Sam stayed there, crouched in front of you, never rushing, never looking away. His kind eyes softened further when you finally met them fully, your body still trembling slightly but no longer on the edge of breaking apart.

“There you are,” he said quietly, a small, relieved smile pulling at his lips.

Sam waited until he was sure you wouldn’t move before he stood, grabbing the broom and dustpan from a nearby corner. As he swept up the broken glass, he spoke gently, his tone casual but soothing. “I broke my favorite coffee mug last week. Sent coffee everywhere. It was a disaster.”

His attempt to lighten the mood made something stir in your chest— something that felt like gratitude, even if it was buried under layers of shame and panic.

Once the glass was gone and the floor was safe again, Sam turned back to you. “C’mon,” he said softly, holding out a hand to help you up. “Let’s sit down for a minute, yeah?”

You stared at the hand extended toward you for a few long beats, your eyes fixed on his fingers as if they were foreign objects. It wasn’t just a hand— it was trust, it was care, it was safety, and yet all you could feel in that moment was a deep, gnawing hesitation. Your chest still felt tight, your heart racing as echoes of past moments flooded your mind.

The trembling in your hands betrayed you, but Sam didn’t push. He didn’t frown or look impatient. His hand remained steady, palm open, an unspoken reassurance that the choice was entirely yours.

His voice was soft, cutting through the storm in your head like a lifeline. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

That was all it took for something to shift. You blinked, the edges of your vision clearing as you finally looked up at him. His expression wasn’t pitying, wasn’t concerned in a way that made you feel small— it was just patient. Steady. Kind.

Your fingers twitched at your sides before you finally reached out, your hand trembling as it found his. His grip was gentle but firm, warm in a way that made your chest ache with a mix of relief and vulnerability. He didn’t pull you up too quickly or make a big deal of it. He just guided you to your feet, his other hand hovering nearby as if ready to catch you should you falter.

“There you go,” he said quietly, his tone light yet soothing, as if you’d just accomplished something monumental. And, in a way, you had.

Your legs felt shaky as you stood, and when Sam gently guided you to the couch, you didn’t resist. Hearing the commotion, Bella, Rose and Fox had joined you both, sniffing carefully at you, no doubt smelling the anxiety in the air. 

Sam guided you gently to the couch, his hand never leaving yours until you were seated. The soft cushions welcomed you, but your body remained stiff, your shoulders drawn tight as though bracing for impact. He sat beside you, his eyes scanning your face carefully. His hands rested on his knees, open and unassuming, making no move to invade your space further.

“I didn’t mean to freak out like that,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

Sam's movements were slow and deliberate as he nodded. “I know. But something tells me this wasn’t just about the wine glass.” He hesitated, his gaze softening as he shifted to sit beside you on the couch, leaving a comfortable distance between you. “Do you want to talk about it? If you don’t, that’s okay. But if you do… I’m here. No judgment.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “It’s a long story,” you said quietly, your words a little rushed, almost as though you were trying to dismiss the idea altogether. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“It matters,” Sam countered gently. “You matter. But I won’t push you. We can just sit here if that’s what you need.”

His words felt like an anchor in a storm. He wasn’t pressuring you, wasn’t prying— he was just there, a steady presence that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could let some of the weight go. You drew in a shaky breath, staring down at your hands as the words started to form in your throat.

“It’s not pretty,” you warned, your voice trembling. “It’s… it’s a lot.”

Sam nodded, his expression unwavering. “I can handle a lot.”

You hesitated, the weight of Sam’s steady, concerned gaze almost too much to bear. You’d never been good at this— letting someone in, being vulnerable. But here he was, sitting so close you could feel his warmth, his eyes searching yours like he genuinely wanted to understand. It felt impossible to explain everything, but you knew if you didn’t at least try, the moment would pass, and the weight you carried would stay right where it always had— on your shoulders alone.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in your voice. “It’s… it’s not an easy thing to talk about,” you began, staring down at your hands, which were clenched tightly in your lap. “I’ve never really told anyone before.”

Sam leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. His voice was gentle but firm. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. But if you want to, I’m here. I want to listen.”

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to continue. “I’ve… been in bad relationships. Really bad ones.” Your voice wavered, and you paused, your fingers digging into your palms as if the pressure could keep you grounded.

Sam didn’t say anything, but you felt the shift in his posture, the subtle way he straightened like he was bracing himself for whatever you were about to say.

“It started off so small,” you whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Little things, you know? Like comments about how I dressed, or what I did. Controlling stuff. But it didn’t stay that way. It got worse— way worse.”

You glanced up at him briefly, and the look on his face made your stomach twist. His brows were furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes… God, his eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Sadness? Maybe both.

“Soon it wasn’t just words,” you continued, your voice barely audible now. “There were… fights. Things thrown at me. And sometimes it wasn’t just things— sometimes it was…” You trailed off, your throat tightening painfully as the memories threatened to overwhelm you.

Sam’s jaw tightened, and his hands flexed where they rested on his knees, but he didn’t interrupt.

“They’d hurt me,” you finally forced out, the words feeling sharp and jagged in your throat. “Physically. Emotionally. In ways I didn’t even realize until it was too late. And I let it happen because… because I thought it was normal. Or that it would stop if I was better.”

Sams broke your train of thoughts, his voice slightly croaky. “‘They’?” He swallowed. 

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you wiped it away quickly, angry at yourself for falling apart like this. “It happened twice. Got away from one abuser just to get into a relationship with another.” You chuckled humorlessly, “I was young, and stupid.” There was a long beat of silence, your uneven breaths and Sam's anchoring, steady ones the only sound in the room. “Even now, I… I can’t stop expecting someone to yell, or grab me, or…” You shook your head, unable to finish the sentence.

Sam exhaled softly, the sound filled with a quiet frustration that wasn’t aimed at you. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t imagine… I can’t even begin to imagine what that was like for you.”

You shrugged, your shoulders hunched. “I got out. That’s all that matters, right? I should just be over it by now.”

“No,” Sam said firmly, his tone so sudden and certain that it startled you. You looked up at him, surprised by the intensity in his expression. “That’s not how it works. What they did to you— it doesn’t just go away. And it’s not your fault that it doesn’t. None of it was your fault.”

His words hit you like a physical blow, and before you realized what you were doing, you leaned into him, your body tilting toward his as if seeking comfort. You rested your head on his slim shoulder. He didn’t move, didn’t pull back or hesitate, just stayed perfectly still, letting you make the decision to close the distance.

“I hate how much power they still have over me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I hate that I can’t even break a stupid glass without falling apart.”

Sam shook his head, his hand lifting hesitantly before settling lightly on your arm. His touch was warm and steady, grounding you in a way you didn’t expect. “You’re not falling apart,” he said softly. “You’re still here. So strong, and brave, for trusting me.”

You let out a bitter laugh, the sound catching in your throat. “It doesn’t feel like strength. It feels like I’m barely holding on most days.”

Sam’s grip on your arm tightened just slightly, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that was both comforting and careful. “Help me ease the burden? Maybe you are holding on. But I can help you carry some of your weight.”

You blinked back tears, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his voice making it harder to keep your defenses up. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He smiled faintly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that softened his entire face. “Because I care about you. And I hate that anyone ever made you feel like you weren’t worth caring about.”

His words shattered something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you let out a soft, broken sob. Sam’s hand moved to your back, his palm resting there lightly.

“And,” he added cautiously, his voice quiet, “I really, really like you.”

You lifted your head to stare at him, the words hanging in the air like they’d been suspended just for you. A part of you wanted to shy away, to laugh it off, to hide behind that defense you’d built so carefully. But his eyes— those warm, steady eyes— kept you anchored. He wasn’t taking the words back. He wasn’t looking away.

When he spoke again, his voice was softer, almost cautious. His hand moved up your arm in a featherlight touch. “Don’t feel like you have to say anything,” he murmured, his thumb brushing just slightly against your sleeve. “And I’m sorry if… if that wasn’t the right time. I just—” He exhaled, his lips twitching in a nervous half-smile. “I just want to be here for you.”

You dropped your gaze to your hands, fidgeting with your fingers, trying to steady the racing in your chest. When you glanced back up, your eyes moved over him with quiet curiosity, as if seeing him for the first time. The faint scruff lining his jaw, the soft mustache that twitched just slightly when he breathed, the way his brows dipped, like he was bracing himself for you to pull away. And those eyes. God, those eyes.

“Sam,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. Your hand moved almost without thought, finding the solid warmth of his forearm.

His gaze flicked down to where your fingers rested before returning to yours, his brows lifting just slightly. “Yeah?” His voice was soft, but there was something raw in it, something that made your chest ache.

You leaned in a fraction, testing the space between you. Your heart hammered, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “Kiss me, please,” you murmured. The words felt foreign but right, trembling as they left your lips.

His breath caught. You could see it, feel it. His hand shifted slightly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate, like he was giving you every chance to back away.

You nodded, your body moving closer, instinct overriding fear. “Yes.”

Sam exhaled, his lips parting slightly as he leaned in, closing the distance. The first press of his lips against yours was gentle, impossibly tender, like he was holding back everything he wanted to give. His hand moved to your face, his fingers warm and steady as they cradled your jaw, grounding you.

The kiss deepened just slightly, enough to make your breath hitch, enough to remind you of just how good it felt to do this, with someone you liked— someone that made you feel safe. His other hand slipped down to yours, fingers intertwining in a way that made you feel tethered, present. His thumb brushed softly over your skin.

When he pulled back, it was slow, deliberate, his forehead resting against yours like he couldn’t bring himself to let you go just yet. His breathing was steady, calming, and you let yourself match it, your chest rising and falling in sync with his.

“I’ll make sure you feel safe,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand lingered at your jaw, his thumb brushing a tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. “Every day, if you let me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes closing as the weight of his words settled over you. They weren’t just pretty promises; you could feel the truth in them, in him. Slowly, you opened your eyes and nodded, your lips curving into the smallest, most vulnerable smile.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you believed him. Or, at the very least, you wanted to try. Maybe this could work. 

🐾

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[glowettee]

dealing with a bad grade (part 1/5) 🎀

posted by: glowettee

hey sweeties! ♡ mindyyy here

okay so like… we need to have a heart-to-heart about something that happens to literally everyone - getting a grade that makes your heart sink. i totally get it, i've gotten a less than decent grade before and i felt like my whole academic career, life, MINDSETT just crashed. but guess what? i turned it around, and i'm going to share exactly how i did it. this is going to be a 5-part series specifically for helping you with your grade. <333

let's start with the immediate aftermath (because i know you're probably reading this with teary eyes and a racing heart):

♡ the 24-hour rule this is literally my holy grail rule. give yourself exactly 24 hours to feel all the emotions. cry into your plushies, eat that emergency chocolate bar you've been saving, watch sad tiktoks - whatever you need. but when that 24 hours is up, we're switching into recovery mode. i literally set a timer on my phone and when it goes off, it's glow-up time.

♡ emotional first aid kit grab your cutest notebook (mine's pink with gold stars obviously) and write down everything you're feeling. i'm talking full main character energy here - all the thoughts, fears, and worries. this isn't just venting, bestie. we're documenting these feelings so we can look back and see how far we've come. plus, getting it all out on paper helps clear your mind for the strategy phase.

♡ reality check (but make it gentle) let's break down why this isn't the end of your academic journey:

grade weight check: calculate exactly how much this affects your final grade. sometimes what feels like a disaster is actually just a tiny bump in the road

context matters: was this during that week you had the flu? when your bestie needed emotional support? when your laptop died? write down any external factors (we don't need accountability at alll,) (i'm joking)

pattern or one-off?: look at your other grades. is this a surprising drop or part of a trend? this helps us know if we need a total study makeover or just some fine-tuning

♡ the strategic breakdown this is where we get seriously helpful. grab your planner so we can create your recoveryyyy blueprint:

schedule a professor/teacher meeting ASAP (i know it's scary but professors and teachers actually love when students care enough to ask for help)

review your study methods (be honest - were you just rereading notes and hoping for the best? i do this all the time on my lazy days, it doesn't help...)

analyze your test-taking strategy (did you run out of time? panic? misread questions?)

check for extra credit opportunities (sometimes they're not advertised but exist if you ask!)

look into study groups (because two brains are better than one, and four brains are literally a power squad)

♡ creating your comeback toolkit this is the part where we get super practical (please bare with me):

get a separate notebook just for this subject

color-code everything (i use pink for things i don't understand, gold for improvements, and purple for victories)

start a concept map of everything you need to review

make a list of resources (tutoring center hours, professor office hours, study group times, online study resources, books etc...)

create a daily study schedule (even if it's just 30 minutes, consistency is key)

♡ mindset reset (the most important part) here's the truth: this grade is not your destiny. it's not even your story. it's just one chapter, and you're about to write the most amazing comeback story ever. think of it like this - even the most aesthetic, successful study girls have their off days. what matters is how you bounce back. you have drive and power, and using that to comeback from something that makes you devastated shows your resilience. <33 don't give up on your dreams when something hits you, because it's like giving up on yourself.

tomorrow we're diving deep into analyzing what went wrong (in the most organized and cute way possible, obviously). because just like my favorite quote says (got it from pinterest btw): "every setback is just a setup for your greatest comeback." ✨

remember: you're still that girl. you're still capable. and you're about to show everyone (especially yourself) just how powerful you can be. please don't give up, i assure you, once you comeback and end up getting an A, after receiving that C-, you'll literally feel unstoppable!!!! <333

stay gorgeous and focused! xoxo, mindy 🎀

[haikyu-mp4]

kinda scared to ask this but have you done a kenma x reader panic attack drabble cause i think itd be super cute but if youve already done this then im so sorry for asking T-T

thanks a bunch <33

that is such a sweet request! not sure which one of them you wanted to experience a panic attack, but I decided to have Kenma calm the reader down. also, this might be a bit longer than a drabble, hope that’s still okay<3

How to care for you

word count; 1310 – gn!reader

You hadn’t had any major panic attacks since you were younger. Sure, you struggled with anxiety, but it became less prominent after you found Kenma. He was quite straightforward and dedicated to helping you with anything you might need, and you communicated well even though he was never a big talker. So you frowned while putting away the dishes, wondering why you felt nauseous and couldn’t focus on only one problem at a time. Why did it suddenly feel like double as many problems? You moved to the fridge, looking for the bottle of water you kept in there to keep it super cold when you realised what this was, the reason you were suddenly so scared. A panic attack.

You had problems at work lately, feeling like every coworker used you to make themselves look better, which led to you making mistakes anyway. Then yesterday, you started hearing comments that suggested you probably didn’t care about your job now that you had such a rich and influential husband.

Lately, you also had your suspicions about your friends not inviting you to things anymore, probably because of jealousy, but you couldn’t help but wonder if it was because you weren’t enough. Your pulse started racing, hands sweating, and you slammed the door to the fridge shut, lips parted wide as your lungs desperately tried to catch on to as much air as they could, hungrily taking in more than they could handle at a time.

You didn’t get far before you sat down on the cold floor, back leaned on the front of a kitchen counter. You’re not crying, but your shoulders still shake with pitiful sobs. How stupid of you to get a panic attack again over a problem you made yourself, you think. Did you not appreciate your job? Maybe you had subconsciously started slacking off, and maybe you were rubbing your happiness too harshly into your friends’ faces. There were so many negative thoughts taking over. The only thought that rang a little louder than the others and finally slipped past your lips was a tiny whisper of Kozu, please.

Kenma had his headphones on, testing out a new game on livestream without any hitches, when he could swear he felt like some sound managed to sneak past his soundproof headphones. Or perhaps it was the slightest shaking of his desk that he still hadn’t tightened the screws of even though he kept saying he probably should. Or perhaps it was simply his husband's instinct kicking in, knowing you should still be home after you two had dinner together earlier and you told him you wanted to get some stuff done and didn’t feel like going out with your friends.

No matter how he knew, he only spent a few minutes mulling it over in his mind while chewing on the corner of his lip before excusing himself and pausing the livestream, finally taking the headphones off and getting up. Because he wasn’t a big yeller, he just made his way through your fancy house a bit quicker than usual while his catlike eyes scanned through every room. Until he got closer to the kitchen and could finally hear heaving sobs that made him kick into a small run, bare feet on the cold floor making small pat pat sounds that you couldn’t hear over your raging fears pounding the inside of your head.

Your body jolted slightly when Kozume put his hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him with teary eyes. Your legs were pushed towards your chest, not helping your airflow, so Kozume put his other hand on your closest thigh, smoothing his touch over it to make you stretch it out. “You need to breathe,” he said, a simple instruction that at least made you respond.

“Help me?”

Kozume gulped. In all honesty, he wasn’t confident about how to help you. What if you didn’t respond to what calmed him down? You had been there for him through a couple of panic attacks before, and it had taken a couple of tries before you learnt that soft songs under your breath while holding him not too tightly were just the way to ease him into less deprecating thoughts and fight off the fear.

“Maybe we should move-”

“No,” you said shakily. He knew he was not strong enough to lift you off the floor, so he just nodded and racked his brain for something else. There had to be some strategy here…

“Try to think of something nice, we’re going to that event next week in our cosplays!” he said, voice light as he tried his best to encourage you. You put your hands on your head, squeezing your eyes shut.

“I’ll probably mess that up too, what if something goes wrong and I end up ruining your career!” you answered, the tears finally escaping while Kozume felt hopeless for a second. His heart ached from seeing you like this, he so desperately wanted to help you.

Finally, he had a thought. He shouldn’t be shy around you after all this time, but showing you love still made his ears red. So with burning ears, he sat close beside you and tucked his arms around you, leaning your legs over his lap and supporting your body on his while one hand ran up and down your back and the other massaged where he could reach on your legs to loosen up your muscles.

It was uncomfortable. The edge of the drawer behind him was slightly poking into his shoulder blade and his tailbone was not appreciating the hard floor, but that didn’t matter. Not when you tucked your head under his chin, ear resting on his chest where you could hear his heartbeat. He held you tightly, vocalising every breath he took so that you might find it easier to follow. Then, with that soft voice of his, he said “You’re at home with me. It’s safe, you don’t have to be afraid.”

As the fearful feeling finally started dissipating, you were left with an ache from the strain you put on your muscles, which finally made you slump all the way into your husband’s body. “I did want to go out with friends today, they just didn’t invite me. I’ve been so busy with work but it feels like I’m doing everything wrong there too. My life is falling apart and it’s all my fault.”

He let you ramble because he could feel that your body was more relaxed now, so he just hummed to confirm he was listening. He considered how to answer you, thinking that you probably didn’t need to hear that he could provide for both of you and you didn’t need a job. “Tomorrow, we can look at all the job-related things together and try to strategise. Maybe some knots just need to be loosened up for you to feel more in control,” he suggested, and you nodded from your awkward angle.

“Thank you.” You breathed in and out but it was still shaky.

“Mhm. And I’m sure you know, but your friends kinda suck.” That even made you laugh a little, and Kozume put on a small smile. “I could ask for a double date with the Kuroos again? I want to help you if I can, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“The Kuroo’s are so nice,” you whispered back, making him take a mental note to send his best friend a message later.

You two slowly got up off the floor and he asked you to draw a bath while he ended the livestream with a quick apology and promise of a giveaway at the end of the week. He had to join his partner for some much-needed self-care.

Nothing was more important to him than learning how to take care of you.

masterlist

[lightlycareless]

heyyyy:33 love reading your nao x reader headcanons, i am feeling bit angsty and been wondering how would naoya react if something goes wrong during yn's labor. like she starts screaming, trashing around and is in lots of pain.

Hello anon!!! You want angst??? WELL YOU GOT ANGST.

Actually it's not that much, but hey, it's not that nice either so... I hope it's to your enjoyment still!

warnings: pregnancy. going into labor. the fear of a baby dying. bleeding. naoya suffers. 🥺

related work: (sequel) (prequel)

Happy reading!

Something going wrong when Y/N is in labor is hands down, Naoya’s worst nightmare. He might’ve prepared everything so to keep risks to the minimum, and yet, there are moments where that is all he thought about.

That, and the worse version of his fears: the two don’t make it.

He tries his best not to think about it, Ranta also tries his best to distract him as soon as anxiety etches his features. And you…

Well, you wish you could offer a viable solution, disappear so the sight of you doesn’t have him spiraling, yet remain close because he needs you and he’s your husband, for crying out loud! You don’t want to be away from him, not even for a second, while pregnant!

But… everything was proving too hard for you to deal with on your own, and stresses like these could only do harm to your pregnancy, alongside those awful thoughts that would cross your mind in the worst moments possible: the idea that maybe Naoya… maybe he didn’t want a family with you anymore.

However, the love both had for one another, for the mochi growing inside you, alongside the support of your family and friends, these obstacles were soon forgotten, replaced with the excitement of the fast approaching day of delivery, the moment you’ll finally be able to hold your baby, as well as see if they were a boy or a girl—not that it mattered, for they’d be unconditionally loved anyways.

Everything was carefully tended to, starting by ignoring the Zen’in’s insane request of having you deliver the baby at the estate, in less than prepared conditions and away from your family just because they wanted.

Nope, not happening. Instead, he arranged your stay at one of the best hospitals of Tokyo, a whole floor with dedicated personnel to solely attend to you; just to begin with.

Your family was naturally impressed by Naoya’s dedication to once again go to these lengths. And yet, he wasn’t doing anything they wouldn’t have done for you; in fact, they also gave their own suggestions to further ensure your safety!

«Well, at least we know she’ll be ok with Naoya…»

“I’m going to be fine.” You’d tell them, slightly overwhelmed by their worries. “Though I do think Naoya might’ve gone a bit over the top…”

“It’s only necessary.” Naoya interjects. “No one outside of the necessary people will disturb you, everything you need will be tended for, and you’ll also be in presence of your friends and family.”

“Friends…?” You repeat slowly, because at that point you only expected your family to be there, not your trusted staff, who were grinning at the prospect of accompanying you during one of the most important stages of your life! “Oh my god, you’re here!”

“What, thought you’d get rid of us just because you’re having a baby??” Haruko grins.

“I’m offended by how poorly you think of us.” Hitomi teases.

“I—I didn’t expect you guys to be here! I thought you’d be busy or—or something!” You chuckle. “I’m speechless!”

“Don’t be too speechless, we still have to make the most of the city before you’re admitted into the hospital! I personally have never been to Tokyo, so I’m planning on taking all the tours.” Mariya enthusiastically suggests.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, did you forget my wife is very much pregnant?” Naoya frowns, she laughs.

“We’re just joking, Naoya—what kind of godmother would I be if I didn’t care for her?”

And in this precise moment, you genuinely believed it couldn’t get any better than this. Surrounded by the people you loved; nothing could ruin this!

Unless your contractions were to begin a bit earlier than anticipated, followed by a numbing, stinging pain that made you freeze on your track, drop everything on the spot to tightly hold onto your stomach; a feeble attempt to stop whatever it was that had you such mortifying state… rushed to the hospital when blood soaked your garments, your and Naoya’s worst nightmare abruptly becoming real.

Without time to waste, you’re quickly checked into your designated room to be urgently attended by the doctor of his choosing, the supposedly best there is in all of Tokyo—no, Japan—who alongside his entourage began to urgently prepare everything for your procedure, for your symptoms were not expected neither wanted in a pregnancy.

But if that wasn’t anxious enough for your husband, your screams of gut-wrenching pain that only worsened as time went on were enough, were enough to get him spiraling.

“Help her!” Naoya demands, more than ready to rattle the doctor into action if needed.

“We can’t let you in if you’re going to disrupt the patient.” The doctor warns, further fueling your husband’s desperation. He’s just a mere second away from losing himself, just one more word and he’ll—

“Naoya, please, calm down—” Thankfully, your father was there to put a stop to his anger, a genuine sympathetic approach for he’s gone through his fair share of pregnancies—things like these don’t scare him that much, but they still worry him.

How could it not? The probability of losing his daughter, the youngest, his first grandchild too…! And just after loosing his wife as well…

It’s a pain he would never wish upon anyone. Certainly not on his distraught son-in-law….

So, what good is it to hire the best, if they’re not going to do their job?!

Naoya freezes upon hearing another heart-wrenching scream come out of you, heart dropping to his stomach as he hears you demand them to get the baby out, stop your suffering and just—help you!

He doesn’t want to hear more of this, he doesn’t want to see nor hear you suffering so, but he doesn’t know what to do, he doesn’t know how to act nor what to say that could get you out of this awful predicament and back into safety, into the world where you and his child were ok and all this was nothing but an awful nightmare!

But the same moment he was debating what to do, your father already made his decision, walking past him and straight into your room, firmly determined to support his daughter through whatever destiny fate instilled on you—even if it meant death.

A sight that soon snapped Naoya out of his struggle, feeling like an absolute idiot for even hesitating! He’s been through life-or-death situations before, why is he suddenly cowering now, pitying himself?! When you need him the most?!

What poor excuse of a husband he was being; a despicable father compared to yours.

Once snapping out of his dark thought and gathering all of his courage, he steps into your room, heading straight to your side, opposite of your father and takes your hand, letting you hold it as tight as you needed—whatever the sacrifice he had to make to ensure your safety, he’d willingly oblige.

“Nao—Naoya—” you breathed, looking up to him. “It—It hurts!”

“She’s losing too much blood.” A nurse would note. “She’s still not dilated enough.”

“My baby—I don’t want my baby to die” you fret.

“She won’t.” Naoya reassures. “She won’t die, I swear—”

“We’ll have to induce her labor to help her dilate, and if that doesn’t work, then a c-section will have to do.” The doctor explains, hoping to get his permission.

“Anything.” Your husband pleads. “Anything to save my wife, my family, please!”

Because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if he loses you. Life would cease to matter at that point.

But thankfully his prayers were to be heard, and with the quick, highly prepared skills of medical staff, were you freed of all complications, ensuring not only your safety, but that of the baby as well, perfect just as the two envisioned her to be.

“Naoya, our baby.” You’d breathe, face lightening up when the nurse finally placed the small, chubby bundle you’ve been waiting to hold for 9 long months in your arms, holding her softly against your skin as you gushed. “Our baby is—”

“She’s a girl.” The doctor says. “A healthy girl.”

“A girl.” You cry, tears of happiness dampening your cheeks, struggling to believe what was before your eyes. “Naoya, we had a beautiful baby girl!”

There are no words to describe what Naoya feels at this very moment: to the sight of you lovingly holding onto your baby, the highest demonstration of love between the two, after so much suffering.

Though he could start with love at first sight, something he already believed existed, but when his eyes laid on his beautiful baby girl, he was completely sure of it now.

“She has your hair.” You comment on the small patch of black hair on the top of her head.

“And your nose.” He responds, gently poking it.

“Ha! How can you even know so? It looks like a regular nose to me.” You giggle—only to gasp a few seconds after being given the breathtaking sight of your baby slowly opening her eyes for the first time, a revelation that made your heart flutter. “Naoya—she… she has your eyes! Oh, my love, she looks just like you…”

Deep within him, Naoya always hoped the baby would look like you—with your big round eyes, your silky, soft hair, and adorable cheeks he always loved to tease. He thought she’d looked far better with your features than his own anyways, and wished would be that way.

But there was something about seeing you gush about her likeness that struck his heart with adoration, feeling appreciated and fiercely protective of the precious, tiny baby in your arms.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but I need to know the name of the baby before continuing” Another nurse said, and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you gently poke her cheek, already imagining the agony her father would put her through.

“Naomi.” You say, eyes intently focused on your daughter. “Zen’in Naomi.”

Named after her father, perhaps the only tradition you kept from the Zen’in, because there was nothing else you wanted more than for the world to know of the man that has made you so happy, the love of your life, either through your affection, or Naomi, your new family.

“A granddaughter, I have a granddaughter!!” Your father would proclaim, tears in his eyes as he accepts the baby from your arms, who was now wrapped in a soft pink blanket he got as a gift, with you proudly smiling at his excitement. “Oh, she’s beautiful Y/N!”

“Welcome to the family, little one!” Hinata grins, eager to take her niece into her arms as well, but patient enough to not do so until her turn. “You don’t know how happy we are to finally have you here!”

“Can’t wait to see you grow up and give your parents a run for their money.” Ren teases, you pout.

“My baby is going to be a nice, well-behaved girl.” You respond. “Unlike you guys…”

“Though she will be spoiled.” Naoya promises.

“Well, it can’t be spoiled if it’s what she deserves, right?” you say, he nods along. Your family fears the lengths you’d both go to do so; you and Naoya are already ruthless as it is…

But even then, they genuinely knew they had nothing to worry about—for as long as they were around, nothing bad would befall little Naomi.

As expected, the exhaustion of the past few hours finally caught up to you, at first making you yawn before your eyelids began to grow heavier and heavier; a sight that didn’t go unnoticed for too long, your father gathering everyone around for their departure.

“We’ll be outside if you need us.” Eiichi promises, carefully handing Naomi back to Naoya. “Rest, pumpkin, you deserve it.”

“Thanks, dad…” you yawn. “I feel like I could sleep for years.”

Eiichi chuckles, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead before moving onto Naoya, patting his shoulder.

“Congratulations, Naoya. You’ll be a great father.”

Naoya smiles, warmed by the words his father wasn’t there to give him, gladly accepting them in his heart as they promptly make their exit. Once alone, your husband places Naomi into the crib nearby, placing a kiss on her head and eventually making his way to you, to give you a kiss as well.

“You did amazingly, my love.” But as much as you wished to enjoy this moment, the agony of past experiences swiftly makes way to your mind.

“…I was scared, Naoya. So, so afraid that something would happen to me, or worse, our baby.” You tremble.

“I know, I know.” He coos, softly removing some unruly hair strands from your face as tears begin to pool in his eyes. “But it’s over, all that is gone—we have Naomi now.”

“I was afraid of leaving you behind.” You continue. “I… I didn’t want you to face all this by yourself. The thought of you having no one to rely on frightens me like you have no idea. At one point I thought I wouldn’t be able to see you—”

“That was my worst fear too. I loathed even thinking about the possibility of returning home without you.” The moment you notice the tears forming in his eyes, you quickly reach out for him—to the best of your ability anyways, much to his worry. “No, Y/N, you have to rest—”

“Thank you for being by my side.” You murmur, hugging him tightly. He returns the gesture soon after. “I’m so glad to have found someone like you, to be my husband, and now father of my daughter.”

“…What did I do to deserve you?”

“Well, you gave me an adorable baby girl, as of recent!” you sniffle through a giggle, making Naoya chuckle. “From there, all that I ever wanted, really. From food, clothes, even holidays…”

Naoya blushes, proud of his consistent commitment to you and the happiness it provided you. And yet, that was not to be the end of his fluster—not without your following words.

“But most importantly, your love.” You smile. “If anything, I should be wondering what I’ve done to deserve you…”

“Your mere existence is justifying enough for me.” He responds quickly, another tear sliding down his cheek, which you swipe soon after. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You kiss him. “And our new family.”

…

…

…

“I know some mothers feel the desire to have another child as soon as their baby is born, but after what happened, I think it’s best for now if we hold off that idea for a while. Don’t you agree?” You suddenly say.

“Yeah, couldn’t have said it any better. Though something tells me Naomi is going to be quite the handful to begin with…”

“Considering she looks just like you, I’d say you’re right.” you laugh, he rolls his eyes before kissing you once more.

[jeonghantis]

https://twitter.com/dindinowo/status/1657312174568767488?s=46&t=gMNFXRsnYXE0OiELxeVYXw

i know he is probably just sleepy but….. dacryphilia go brrrrrr

✧ — [11:33 PM] (k.mg)

PAIRING ⇝ kim mingyu x reader.

TAGS ⇝ established relationship, smut.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, gn!reader, small caps are intentional, explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!).

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ sub!mingyu, dom!reader, top!mingyu, bottom!reader, praise (mingyu is called pretty and if u dont fuck w that click out), dacryphilia, teasing, tear licking (does this need a warning), handjob, orgasm denial, edging, penetration, unprotected sex. lmk if i missed anything!

WORD COUNT ⇝ 842 words.

note: congratulations, anon. you made me so feral that you're getting a short, probably poorly written drabble. 😁 because holy shit……… tell me why my stomach flipped when he started wiping his tears…. anyway i’ll tell you 😋 i hope you enjoy hehehehehhehe. this was written completely on a whim so it is not proofread one bit and it's a bit less detailed than my usual writings and different. it is just me pouring my brainrot out. i am so SORRY.

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated.

hard hours are open.

you’ve been stroking his cock for god knows how long, but every time he feels like he’s close to cumming, on the brink of toppling over into a euphoric high, you wrench away your hands away from him. he’s mewling and just so pathetic as his hips stutter up into the air as if to chase after that stolen bliss to no avail. 

“you’re adorable, baby,” you lilt sweetly, leaning down to press a feathery kiss atop his leaking tip as a reward—or was it to further taunt him? “can i see it again? can you handle one more?”

no, absolutely not, he wants to say, but defiance had long quelled away from him since the third (fourth?) time you’ve denied his release.

“i-i don’t know,” mingyu exhales shakily, glistening eyes wavering to meet your gaze. “m-maybe?”

“it’s a yes or no question, darling,” you smile and squeeze around the base of him which earns a delightful throb from him. 

mingyu worries on his bottom lip. “just one more?”

“just one more,” you reassure. 

his eyes shut. “then yes, i can.”

a grin. “you’re so good for me, gyu.”

and so, mingyu is enduring another round of your cruel ministrations with his hands remaining stubbornly at his sides as you told him to, clenched so tightly into fists that his nails imbed red crescents into his palm. pleasure was a fiery flame from where it sparked once again in his abdomen, licking its way up his veins and swallowing everything in its path. it fogged his brain, compelling him to focus on nothing else but its passionate blaze. mingyu was almost lost in it, the remaining fraction of his sanity almost completely consumed. then his moans grow louder in volume and frequency, his thighs flexing -

and you’re pulling your hands away from him once again, darkened and eager eyes watching his every move. 

something in mingyu breaks then and it was not the sweet release he had been hoping for. tears flow from his eyes, staining his cheeks in a wet sheen. his sobs comes with tiny hiccups, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths, and yet he’s still babbling his pleas and mantras of your name through it all. he’s gone. he’s so impossibly gone in his own desires and need, and all you could do was just stare. you stare and take it in with widening eyes and a pounding heart.

“oh my god,” you whisper under your breath. 

you’re torn. your first instinct is to panic, to coddle your lover and wipe his tears away and reassure him of everything good in the world. but beneath, the underlying and somehow very overwhelming part of you wants to laugh. oh, it’s sick. you’re absolutely sick to be deriving pleasure from this. but god help you, there was just something so gratifying about seeing a hulk of a man trembling and crying under you because of you. 

“you did so well, gyu,” you croon, finally lifting yourself from your position to finally climb over his sprawled figure. “god, you look so pretty right now.”

mingyu lifts a hand to start dabbing at the tears that continue to cascade down his face, then up to his eyes where they blur his vision. “was i not pretty before now?” he murmurs weakly.

you laugh. “i see you’re fine enough to be joking around.”

“i’m so very far from fine,” he sulks with pouted lips, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “i need to cum inside you to be fine.”

“of course,” you snicker and seat yourself down on him, your throbbing arousal resting neatly on top of his own. the softest moan slips from your lips, while the loudest slips from his, his grip on your waist tightening just the slightest bit.

“please,” mingyu sobs out, looking at you with his pupils blown out wide from pure, primal lust. “please, baby, i don’t think i can handle any more. just please fuck me.”

you gave a fake hum of consideration just as your hips roll deep, dragging your crotch over his with one lazy, delicious drag that draws out the most pitiful whimper from mingyu.

“well, since you asked so nicely,” you say, wearing the sweetest smile on your face. 

“thank you,” he breathes out when he feels your hand wrap around his girth again.

“thank you,” he says again when you press his blunt tip to your fluttering hole.

“thank you,” he mewls out when you finally sink down on him, swallowing every inch of him in your luscious heat. 

you reach forward, thumbing away at the new set of tears that he had not known were running down his cheek. you bring your finger to your mouth, lapping at the salty drops you gathered, and your lips only pull wider into a grin. 

mingyu let out another sob.

“for the record,” you start, cradling his face gingerly in your hands. “you’ve always been pretty. i just find you a just little bit prettier when you’re crying for me.”

*cut to mingyu cumming in one stroke* hehehhe

© circlesol. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

To Find What Once Was Lost

Warnings: None really. Some angst. Regrets.

Summary: Y/N has found Dean, can she find what they lost when she said goodbye?

Pairings: Dean x Y/N

Word Count: 1250

A/N: So this fic is a sequel to Love Misunderstood. That little drabble was written just over a year ago, and I've been meaning to write this almost ever since.

@paarthurnax59 sent a very kind ask inquiring about a part 2 for them, and I was quickly inspired to write this sequel. It's more than twice as long as the first one - sorry! Couldn't keep this one short and sweet. 😏

Anyway, hope you all enjoy them both!

P.S. For reference, I pictured the first part of the story taking place when Dean was around 22 or 23. (2001/2002 - ish) This one is supposed to take place almost 11 years later, when Dean was 33/34 (2012/2013 - ish.) So around season 8. But there's room for interpretation as your imagination prefers. 😊

The day he stepped back into my life was just an idle Tuesday. I’d spent more than a decade avoiding him one way or another, either by design or by accident. 

Then one Tuesday night in Stedman’s Bar and Grill - there he was, leaning against the bar, swirling a glass of cheap whiskey.

Dean Winchester. 

The boy that I loved without understanding that I did. The boy who told me he loved me just so I could stomp on his heart. The boy I regretted more than any other mistake I’d made, and I’d made a lot of them. 

I stared at him across the room and the first thing I realized was that he wasn't a boy anymore. 

In some ways he still looked exactly the same, the same perfect profile, the same wide, disarming smile, the same jewel-bright green eyes that widened with surprise when they caught mine from across the room. 

But as I stared at him, I saw the differences too. When I’d known him, he’d been tall and muscular, but still a little lanky, as though he hadn’t quite grown into his size yet, like a puppy.

Now, he’d definitely achieved his full potential. His body was thick and broad, sturdy, like an oak tree - one that had weathered years and years of storms.

As he walked slowly towards me, his glass of whiskey in hand, I could see the changes in his face too. He was still inordinately beautiful - there was something almost surreal about that kind of beauty - but there was a warning in his eyes now, a set to his mouth that was harder. His smile was more cautious, less automatic.

He approached my table and my heart beat wildly. Then he spoke and I realized another big change.

“Hey, Y/N, long time no see.”

Like the rest of him, his voice had matured, deepened significantly. It was rougher, harder. But it had also gained the power to make an electric shiver run up my spine.

I tried to remember how to smile, as I greeted him. “Yeah, a long time. How…how are you?”

He shrugged and gestured to the chair across from me, questioning. I gave a nod. “Yeah, please, sit.”

He sat down and took a sip from his glass. “I’m good. You?”

I laughed lightly, nervously. “Well, over the last ten years or so?” I tilted my head. “Mostly okay.”

He frowned. “Hasn’t been ten years.”

I nodded. “You’re right, closer to eleven.”

I saw realization slowly dawn in his eyes and I chuckled. “Yeah.”

A charged silence descended and I knew we were both remembering that last meeting. I knew my memory of it was shrouded in regret and pain. How did he remember it?

As the time that bitch ripped his heart out? Puppy love for an unremarkable and undeserving girl? Or was his memory of me muted and fuzzy around the edges? 

Was I just a distant memory he had trouble accessing? 

I wanted to ask him, but I couldn’t. Because what if I told him I remembered everything about our time together, that I remembered the way he smelled when he was fresh out of the shower, that I still make grilled cheese sandwiches the way he taught me, that I can’t listen to Nothing Else Matters because it makes me cry to remember the way he held me pressed close to him in the back of the Impala while it played softly over the radio.

What if I told him all those things and he remembered nothing, or he remembers and doesn’t care, remembers and curses my name, remembers and knows he dodged a bullet.

The endless what ifs kept my mouth sealed tight.

He cleared his throat. “So, still hunting?”

I nodded, grateful for the conversational lifeline. “Yeah, still at it. You too, from what I hear.” I smiled. “Thanks for uh…saving the world.”

He snorted softly, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. “Yeah, no problem. Nothin’ else to do that day.”

I grinned. “Well, good thing.”

His smile softened slightly, and he sighed deeply. “Y/N Y/L/N.” 

I returned the soft smile. “Dean Winchester.”

In the renewed silence I heard a distant alarm bell going off in the back of my mind. For years I’d wanted the chance to tell him I was sorry, that I regretted hurting him, that he wasn’t wrong, it was love between us, that I’d been a fool. 

And now my mouth was sealed shut. But I was the one who did the hurting, and even though Dean was the one who walked out the door, I was the one who ended what we had. So, I had to be the one to speak first. 

With determination and terror I pried open my jaw and let my cartwheeling thoughts fall out.

“This is probably gonna be stupid and maybe you don’t care, or maybe you don’t wanna hear it, but I need to say I’m sorry.”

Dean was frowning. “No, Y/N-”

But I cut him off. “Please, yes. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long that I was the one who was wrong. I told you you were mistaken, that you didn’t love me, that we didn’t love each other, but I was so wrong. I was just a scared, stupid kid and I’ve regretted hurting you every day since. Because, you did love me, I did love you, it was real. Okay, maybe it was young and untested, but it was real. And…well, I’m just sorry I couldn’t understand that then.”

My voice got quiet. “I think about you a lot, and I always hope you’re well, happy.” I looked at him, my expression turning the statement into a question, and he just shrugged.

“I’ve been happy.” He paused a beat and then scoffed. “Been miserable and scared and broken, and stomped on quite a bit too.” He answered with a lopsided, heartbreaking smile. “But yeah, I’ve been happy.”

He caught my eye. “I’m happy now.”

My heart grew and thumped against my ribcage and I couldn’t help the tears that came to my eyes. I blinked them away and reached across the table to put my hand on his, smiling wide. “I’m happy too.”

He shook his head, inhaling deeply, and exhaling slowly. “Man, I’ll tell you one thing - I missed that smile.”

I felt myself blush and Dean chuckled and winked. “Missed making you blush too.”

I waved away his flirtations, though they made my pulse race, and I gave him a serious look. “Do you accept my apology? Forgive me?”

Dean’s face was gentle now, closer to the soft boy I remembered, though still forever altered. “Yeah, sweetheart. Long time ago. Life’s too short and mean to hold on to old hurts.”

A shy smile turned up the corner of his mouth and he stared into his whiskey. “Still think about you lots though too, still…still regret walking away.”

I squeezed his hand. “You’re right, gotta let go of those regrets.”

He looked back up at me and nodded. “Yeah, and maybe…?” 

I got lost in the forest of his eyes for a moment, but then raised an eyebrow in question. “Maybe…what?”

He shrugged, his expression sheepish. “Maybe start making new memories instead?”

There was a familiar warmth in his gaze that had goosebumps racing across my skin and the blush back in my cheeks.

“Yeah, definitely, new memories, new chances?”

He raised his glass of whiskey and winked at me again. “I’ll drink to that.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

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@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

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@ladysparkles78

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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@deangirl96

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[awardenandacrow]

Yay! Either 11 or 18 for the prompts, if you like 😊

Ooooh I likey! 11: Rook is recognized for an accomplishment. This is off the cuff so forgive me if it’s a little rough!

——————————————————————————

“Rook will be making breakfast this morning!” Bellara beamed, giving a little hop of excitement. Naimeryn smiled nervously at the team, feeling absolutely foolish.

“So, eggs?” Harding smirked.

“*No*,” Naimeryn snapped, but Neve and Harding snickered.

“I’m missing something,” Taash crossed their arms over their chest.

“Rook does not cook,” Lucanis said gently, giving her an encouraging smile that made her heart do a summersault. “When I first arrived, the only thing she knew how to make was eggs. But Bellara has been teaching her some things.”

“Ah, excellent!” Emmrich clapped his hands together. “It is ever so important to always be open to learning new things!”

“I… don’t want anyone getting their hopes up too high,” Naimeryn said nervously. “Bellara is an excellent teacher, but I’m still learning.”

“If I die, I promise I’m going to haunt you,” Davrin said skeptically.

“I’ll withhold the poison then,” Lucanis said smoothly, “as I could not live with myself having subjected her to *that.*”

A chorus of laughter and Davrin’s good-natured protests filled the dining hall.

“Come on,” Bellara nudged her into the kitchen. You’ve got this!”

Under Bellara’s watchful eye, Naimeryn whisked and fried and flipped and sizzled. She was nervous — only Bellara had eaten her food thus far, and the thought of the whole team trying it was… admittedly terrifying. But the last batch had been pretty good, and bacon was much easier than she’d believed. She took a deep breath as she pulled the last pancakes off the griddle, and Bellara brought the syrup they’d bought in Arlathan to the table.

“Pancakes?!” She heard Neve cry immediately. “Did you actually teach her to make pancakes?”

“And bacon,” Naimeryn affirmed, turning to the table with a plate of each in her hands. “I made some crispier and some less so, so hopefully everyone has it how they like it.”

Naimeryn and Bellara served the rest of the team, then Naimeryn took her usual seat at the head of the table. Bellara, her plate in hand, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she sat to her left.

“*Rook!*” Harding spoke first, her eyes wide.

“Is it okay?” Naimeryn asked nervously, twisting her hands in her lap. She thought she might be sick.

“I’ve never had pancakes before,” Taash said, “but these are really, really good!”

“Really?” Naimeryn perked.

“You done did good,” Davrin nodded, shoveling a whole pancake into his mouth in one bite. Naimeryn didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him.

“I’m proud of you, Rook,” Neve said, taking a bite of bacon and smirking at her. “Your hard work really has paid off.”

“Not burnt, or stuck, or the wrong consistency,” Lucanis smirked. “You’ve truly come a long way.”

Naimeryn’s face burned. “I’m no *you.*”

“So, ah, is this gonna be a regular thing?” Taash wanted to know, holding up their empty plate. “‘Cos I want more. Please.”

As everyone began to laugh again, Naimeryn brought Taash her plate. “I’ll make myself more,” she smiled at the Qunari. “Apparently I can do that, now.”

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I hope you guys enjoy! Guess we’ll call this snippet… 33? ;)

[romanestuffsposts]

stucky x reader and maybe they go too far with the punishment?

Hi there love!

Thank you for your request and I'm sorry you had to wait! I hope it wasn't too long :(

I hope you like how I wrote your ask! <3

Enjoy <33

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Warnings : afterward a hard punishment, scared little reader, cries, pain, apologise, after care, mention and reaction of DARK punishment!,

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Redaer

Summary : When emotions are too big, reactions are too...

A/N : There's no mention on to what they've done to go too far, i let you imagine what you need to imagine. I also want to say that I absolutely don't agree with people hitting others as punishment or for power. I just write what we asked me and I know i shouldn't explain myself but I want to so you can understand. I don't support that.

It's just that sometimes, some people need and are looking for bigger comfort. I'm parts of those people sometimes so I know it can be the kind of comfort people are looking for. Please respect that and do not send hate. I know it's a sensitive subject for some so if you're not comfortable then don't read it. I'm not here to hurt you more than you can already be. I'm here to help you having some minutes of escape!

Please take care of you!

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They didn't noticed ?

They didn't noticed they were harder than they should've been ?

They didn't noticed your cries and screams were different ? That they were full of fear and pain more than it should've been ?

They didn't noticed your skin afterward ?

How could they not ?

If they really cared about your well being, they would've noticed, they wouldn't have react that way with you, they would've stopped it before it was too late

But it is too late...

~

"dinner is ready" your Daddy screams from downstairs making you flinch. You didn't realised you had been curling under the cover, crying your eyes out for so long.

You pull the cover away from you and slowly sit up, wincing at the thought of what had happened. You try to be quick as you make your way down the stairs, you don't want to make them angrier than they were this morning, but with the pain of this feeling, you quickly feel the tears coming back.

When you enter the dining room, you see your Daddy sitting on the table, his back toward you. You swallow and walk to your seat. You don't make eye contact as you sit and wait for your Papa, you can feel his eyes on you but you don't dare to look at him.

You flinch a little when your Papa puts the pan in the middle of the table and takes your plate. You notice that he made your favorite meal and you wonder if it's because of what happened this morning or if it was planned that way since the beginning of the week.

However, you don't ask questions. You keep your head low, giving him quiet thank you as he serves you.

You had no desire to eat anything right now and even less while being near them but you force yourself, scared to be punish again if you disrespect your Papa like that.

You don't speak or make a noise as you eat your meal but you do open your ears to listen to what your Daddies are saying. You were hoping to hear an apologie or something that could make you feel better but you only hear them talking about their day or week. They talk about work and things they saw or did.

It hurts you when you realise that they act like nothing had happened. Not as if you weren't there because your Papa makes sure to refill your glass of water once this one is empty but the fact that they can think that you're strong enough to rebuild yourself without their help is scaring you.

Should you be able to do that ?

Should you be able to not want them right now ? To not wanting to be in their arms and under their sweet words ? Are you weird or dumb because you need them even tho it's them who put you in that need ?

During the evening, you make sure to stay away from your Daddies as far as you can as you all watch a movie. You were curled up against the armrest and try to be as discreet as you can.

Earlier you wanted to be near them but were scared to ask for comfort but now you just want to make them realise how bad what they did was.

When the movie came to an end, you don't ask your daddies to carry you upstairs like you usually do or pretend to be asleep so they would take you in their arms. You ran upstairs and closed the door shut, climbed in your bed and slide under the cover.

You couldn't help but let the tears falling down your cheeks as you think about what you did. You never thought that you would run away from your Daddies one day. It sad you so much that you even did that in the first place.

You shouldn't feel that way but somehow you do.

You hear a gentle knock on your door before hearing it being open slowly. A head peers inside the room and if you would look toward the door you would see your Papa's handsome face gazing around, trying to find you.

"Baby ?" he gently asks. You slowly sit up and peer up at him as he and your Daddy walks inside your room.

"can we talk ?" your Daddy asks, after closing the room. This small movement caused your eyes to wide. They closed the door this morning.

"Otay but open the door, pease" You quietly say. He quickly nods and open the door "yea okay, whatever you want, babydoll" he said sincerely, his face showing panic for a second.

"is it okay if we sit on your bed ?" your Papa asks. You look at the edge of your bed and then at them, it's only when you meet their gaze that you give them a small nod.

They carefully walk to your bed and sit on it "listen, about this morning," your Papa starts "we know you did something wrong but that didn't meant you deserve what we put you through. We went too far and we didn't realised on the moment"

"we're very sorry we put you through that and we're sorry about the feelings it made you feel. We know you were upset and scared during the day and that's not how you're suppose to be around us. We're suppose to make you feel safe, not the other way around" your Daddy says with pain in his eyes

You look down at your fingers, too shy to look at them in the eyes while they confess "I do feel safe wis you" you murmur, half hoping they heard it and half hoping they hadn't.

Steve's eyes soften at your words as Bucky closed them, feeling too much at the moment. He takes deep breath to calm his sadness.

"you really do?" your Papa asks. He watches you nodding your head "you still do right now ?" he asks, wanting to know if he lost you forever or not.

You take some times which bring fear in your Daddies's chest but end up nodding your head again. "oh baby" Bucky breathes out. All his fear and all his stress getting out as your words come in.

He never wanted to hurt you, phisically or mentally. He and Steve always make sure to keep you safe from the mean world, to keep you happy. They always make sure to be hard enough for you to understand but not too much so you wouldn't be hurt or traumatized.

But today they failed it..

"was scared you didn' lote me anym-more" you add, mumbling. The real fear came in when you saw how they were distant and kinda ignoring you during the day. You couldn't stand it, it was worst than what happened this morning.

"sweetie we will never not love you" Steve exclams, coming closer to where you are sitting "that's literally impossible" he chuckles "you're the most loved baby in the world and it's impossible for us to not love you. You're our world"

"we can't imagine a morning without you snuggling against us to wake us up. Or we can't live happily if we don't hear your laughters when you're playing upstairs. We can't imagine our fridge empty of your drawing or your little songs you sing in the bath" Bucky says with a sincere voice. You look up at him with tears in your eyes.

"We can't breath if you don't ask us a hundred time to make you cookie for the week" Steve goes on

"We can't imagine not being greet by the sound of your little feet steping down the stairs after your nap" Bucky tickles your little foot making you laugh

"we can't imagine having a day without hearing this beautiful sound coming out of your mouth" he gently says as his fingers are brought to your face to gently caressing your cheek. You close your eyes and melt in his touch.

"we can't imagine a day without being able to help you when you need us. Or seeing you scared because of us. You are our air so we can breath, you are our button to switch on a happy mood whenever you're around. You are our sun because of how much you shine up our world. You are our life and we will never let you down and not love you"

You sob your tears who's fighting to come out. You feel arms being wrap around you and you soon feel someone rocking you "let it go, babydoll. We're here to hold you, you'll never fall under our watch"

You cry on his shoulder as all the feeling you accumulate during the day explode our of your body. You didn't felt the needed to cry until you saw how much they care about you and how much they would never hurt you on purpose.

What happened this morning shouldn't have happened. They're never mean to you like that and you're sure it wasn't even them. It was a side of them who never came out since this morning and you're sure they will fight with their lifes to keep that side hidden so it would never come out again.

They'll protect you against that and you'll protect them from themselves if needed. They're here for you and you're here for them.

"we love you so so much, princess" Steve says, closing his lips on your cheek. He gently wipes your tears away as you're now completly slumped in your Daddy's arms.

"where do you wanna sleep tonight ?" Your Daddy asks as his hands stroke your back from under your shirt. His warm hands sending you butterflies all around your body.

"you" you sniff a sob.

"then you'll sleep with us" Steve confirms before standing up from the bed. Bucky is careful when he stands up, he doesn't want to disturb you.

When you are in their room, Steve wipes your nose clean and slide a wet towel on your messy face so you could feel fresh up for your sleep. All the while in your Daddy's arms.

He kept his gentle touch light on your back and couldn't stop dropping kisses on your head and shoulders. He just want to make you feel good and safe again. He knows how much you love attention, how much you always crave for their kisses or their hands on you so he will never stop until your mind is at peace in dreamland.

"all done" Steve smiles before kissing the tip of your nose. You scrunch your little nose after his kiss making him and Bucky laugh. You really are the cutest little one in the world.

Bucky lies down on the bed as you're still against his chest and Steve doesn't lose a time at following the movement. He scoops closer to you both once he's under the cover.

You rest your head against Bucky's chest, hearing his heart pouding under your head. The rest of your body is fully on top of his like a beautiful blanket and your legs are resting between his.

But you have a feeling of lack.

Reaching over, you extend your hand in the dark room hoping to find what you need. You relax again once you feel your Papa grabbing your hand and gently stroking his thumb over your sweet and delicate skin

"sweet dreams, beautiful"