#i hope this encourages you to do what you want

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ adore me, mark your territory !!

ᝰ.ᐟ after having to endure locker room conversation since his blue lock days all the way up to his pro days, yukimiya realizes that if he wants to show you just how serious he is about his thoughts on his relationship with you, he needs to make his mark on you. ( fem!reader )

pairing kenyu yukimiya x reader word count 3.6k content contains corruption kink/innocence kink, loss of virginity (both you and yukki), first time, creampie, breeding kink, slightly manipulative!yukki, you two attended the same private catholic high school, mentions of purity culture, coercion, very naive reader, talks of marriage, dark(ish) content kinktober masterlist

To love someone is to know them. 

You love Kenyu Yukimiya with all your heart; you know his hopes and his dreams, his fears and the tiny voice in his head that serves to either goad or encourage him. The two of you grew up together, attending all the same Catholic private schools up ‘til he went pro fresh out of high school graduation, and you decided to attend a tiny, private all girls university. 

You know that he’s kind and funny, much more outgoing and adventurous than you. You know that he can be gentle, and that he chooses to always be gentle with you. You know that he loves you just as much as you love him. 

But while distance makes the heart grow fonder, perhaps it’s the distance that has caused this newfound unfamiliarity between the two of you.

“Kenny, I don’t… I don’t understand.” You’re lying down on your painfully small twin-sized mattress in your dorm room. Kenyu’s on top of you, his body hovering over your own. He gives you that familiar, comforting smile of his as he asks you gently (your Kenyu’s always so gentle with you), 

“We love each other, don’t we?” 

“Of course we do.” You say softly. Your arms are by your side, and you’re playing with the frills on the oversized comforter of your bed. Your whole entire room still screams girl. Yukimiya finds it endearing; he finds everything about you so damn endearing. Your floral quilts, and the stuffed animals he’s won for you from claw machines and unfairly rigged carnival games. Your fluffy comforter, and the way you always love to wear dresses, even when it’s just to attend a lecture. 

And your unwavering innocence. 

Everyone knows that Catholic private schools aren’t as pristine as the parents of the students like to claim it is, but you’re the only one who remained devout. The only one who genuinely stayed true to the lessons taught. You didn’t drink, you didn’t smoke, you didn’t sneak out. The only parties you attended were birthday parties chaperoned by a trusted adult and held in the early afternoon. You always followed the dress code and never tried to get away with folding the waistband of your school-issued skirt to make it shorter, like some of the other girls did. Hell, Kenyu had to literally ask your father for permission to date you before he asked you out. 

And while Kenyu’s always been on his best behavior, it’s not like he’s unaware of the world. He’s not naive like you. And that’s okay. One of you has to know enough to lead the other; Yukimiya’s more than happy that he’s the one taking on that role. 

The thing is, Kenyu truly does love you. It’s why he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to force you to go further than what you think you’re capable of, than what you think you’re allowed to go. He ignores the hard on he gets every time you two make out, the way your hips sometimes move on their own, grinding against him with no thought to strip out of your clothes and let him finish. You’ve been together since the first year of high school, and now you’re in college, and he’s playing professional soccer, and he loves you, and he still hasn’t even seen your pussy. Honestly, his closest friends tell him he must be a saint. 

But the talks in the locker room, the snide comments from his least favorite teammates, the jokes and the teasing and the mocking, condescending tones — gotta protect Yukki’s ears, can’t let him Mr. Private School hear this, as if he’d even know what we’re talking about; damn virgin — all of it is chipping away at his pacifist, mild-mannered demeanor, revealing the feral, greedy egoist that lies underneath. 

You had been so excited to hear your beloved boyfriend was flying down to your college town this weekend, just to see you! Your roommate’s out on a holiday with her parents, leaving the dorm room all to yourselves. In your cute mind, this just means more room for the two of you to hang out.

For Yukimiya, it means he has no more obstacles to get in the way of him fucking you for the first time. 

“And you know what two people who love each other do, right?” He’s still using the same pacifying, soothing tone he always uses when he’s trying to calm you down. When you skinned your knees and cried from the sting of the alcohol wipes used to clean the cuts, he had used this voice on you. When you cried at the airport because he was leaving the country to meet the team who paid an exorbitant amount to have him on their starting lineup, he had used this voice on you. Right now, you can’t understand why he’s using this voice on you. You’re not hurt; just confused. 

“Kenyu, wh-what are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about making love, [Name].” One large palm is rubbing up and down the smooth skin of your thigh. The movement causes the thin fabric of your sundress to rise up. Yukimiya’s never touched you down there before. You don’t know why his touch feels so good, but you do understand what he’s talking about now. 

“But Kenny—” Your voice is reduced to nothing more than a nervous whisper, almost as if you’re scared someone is listening in. “—we can’t. That’s for married couples.” 

Well, if it’s any consolation, Yukimiya’s always planned on marrying you. 

He kisses your forehead, his hand never relenting from its position on your thigh. Your dress remains lifted up at an angle on one side. He can see part of your cotton panties; plain and white. If he moves his fingers up a few more centimeters, he could tug at the waistband of them. 

“I know, sweetheart. But I’ve been thinking…” His hand travels from up your thigh to rest on your hip. The one side of your dress is now all the way up, and his thumb rests on the thin waistband of your panties, rubbing reassuring circles to get you to remain calm underneath him. “We’ll get married soon, anyway, right? I love you so much that I need an outlet to show you just how much I love you.” 

“Married? Soon?” Your eyes widen. You find yourself daydreaming about marrying Yukimiya, starting a family. Yukimiya’s smile stretches wide across his handsome face. His sweet girl, he knew you’d be putty in his hands after he mentioned that. 

“Of course.” He kisses you on your lips sweetly, his hand never leaving your hip. “And I want to give you all the love a husband has for his wife. Won’t you let me, [Name]?” 

Kenyu’s always been handsome. You have a collection of all his professional photoshoots, and you know that he has a bunch of fangirls from just his looks alone. It’s so unfair of him, really, to give you that imploring look of his. You can’t say no to Yukimiya, and you think you never want to.

And so you do let him. 

Kenyu’s quick. With the speed he normally reserves for on the field, Kenyu’s mouth meets your at the same time his other hand grips your neglected hip. Now both of his hands are bunching up the fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up to reveal your simple, plain panties. 

“Mmph.” You moan into the kiss. This is a bit different than what you two normally engage in; somehow, everything feels a lot heavier, headier. You can’t seem to think straight. All you can focus on is chasing after his lips, matching his hungry pace. 

The heat radiating off the two of you is enough for Kenyu to separate from you momentarily. The lens of his glasses are fogged up, and he grins at you, satisfied at the progress you’re making, before taking his glasses off and setting them neatly on your nightstand. 

And then he’s back to kissing you passionately again. You’re lost in the pleasure of his kisses, unknowingly bucking your hips up, not knowing why your body is craving friction, for some attention, down there. Your hands reach up to grip the front of Kenyu’s shirt, tugging at him, trying to bring him closer. You’re getting desperate, and he finds it so cute. 

“Lift your arms up for me, sweetheart.” He mumbles against your lips, and your head’s too hazy for you to properly register his request. He repeats it, still as gentle as ever with you, and this time, you manage to comply. 

“Fuck.” You don’t hear Kenyu curse often; he says it’s impolite to do so in front of his girl. He breathes out the word, and you feel shy all of a sudden as his eyes roam over your body. He tossed your dress to the side unceremoniously, and because the dress itself had padding, you decided not to wear a bra. You’re laying on your bed, nothing to protect your modesty besides your cotton panties. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. The only girl I see.” He praises you, and you don’t feel too shy anymore. 

“K-Kenyu—” You look up at him, all doe-eyed and sweet. You’re pressing your thighs together, drawing his attention to the plush of your thighs, the way hiding in between your legs is your special place that only Kenyu will be allowed to see, to touch, to taste, to love. “What do we do now?” 

He leans down, whispering in your ear in his familiar, kind voice, “Now, you lay down, and let me show you how much I love you.” 

You love Kenyu so much, you think it should be impossible for your heart to have so much room for him. You know Kenyu must feel the same way, but never before has his love for you ever felt so overwhelming. Kenyu pries your thighs apart, forcing you to open your legs for him, but you didn’t know showering you in his love meant that he was going to take his fingers and rub against the mound in your underwear. 

“W-wait, Kenny!” You yelp, trying to shut your legs, but he’s too big, too strong. He blocks the movement, keeps you nice and spread for him. “I—” You don’t know what to tell him, and you don’t know how to explain why there’s a tiny puddle gathering in the thin fabric of your panties. Sometimes, you feel funny and this starts to happen, usually after a long makeout session with your boyfriend. 

“You’re so wet for me, [Name].” He almost sounds in awe, staring down at your covered pussy almost as if in a trance. The pace he’s using is rather slow; he’s content, for now, with just stroking his fingers up and down your covered slit, fascinated with the way he can watch you slowly drench through the cotton. The wet spot only continues to grow; he bets he can get his fingers damp with your arousal soon, and he wouldn’t even have to take your panties off to do so. “Do you always get this wet for me?” 

You want to cry, and you can even feel the tears welling up in your eyes. He looks up, instantly stopping his ministrations, his concern written all over his expression. “Hey, hey.” He shushes you, peppering kisses all over your face. He’s not stroking you anymore, but his large hand is cupping your pussy, the heat of his hand encasing your special place. You’re practically throbbing against him, your cunt aching and hungry for his touch. He just has to get you to open up for him, to understand. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’re supposed to get wet right here for me, you know that?” 

You sniffle, unsure if he’s just placating you. “Really?”

“Really.” His smile is so gentle, his tone so soothing and reassuring. He’s back to grazing his knuckles across your cunt, enjoying the way the fabric keeps on getting damper. “It means your body is happy, and it lets me know that you love me as much as I love you.” 

His other starts to tug at your waistband, dragging down your panties until he’s pulling them right off. His breath catches in his throat as he looks down and stares at your pussy for the first time. Your folds are glistening, your little clit peeking out at him, begging for him to suck on, to rub against. 

“Cute.” He tells you, tracing a finger curiously against your slit, the tip of his index finger so close to entering your clenching, unbreached hole. “I’m going to make you feel really good now, okay, [Name]? Tell me, have you ever played with yourself down here?” 

“Wha-?” You’re confused, appropriately so. The boys and girls were separated during sex education, but you remember your teacher drilling it into your heads that under no circumstances should a young girl ever touch herself. You had been confused at the time, confused as to why anyone would ever. You’ve been taught that only your husband should ever touch you right there. But Yukimiya loves you, and he’s going to be your husband, and now you’re starting to think you know why girls may want to touch themselves. You’ve felt this heat in between your thighs before, this mysterious hunger for something, but now you’re feeling it tenfold. You shake your head, too choked up to speak. 

“No? Not even like this?” You don’t expect Kenyu to insert his finger. The intrusion is foreign, but not entirely unwelcome. Your walls instinctively clench around his digit, and he has to remind himself to breathe, to remain collected, to take things slow so you can enjoy yourself properly. “You’re clamping down on just one finger.” He breathes out, curling his finger, moving it against your walls. He brushes against a spongy spot inside of you, one that has you jerking up, a shocked, pleasured moan escaping from your parted lips. “That feel good?” He asks, before adding a second finger, both of them bumping against that same sweet spot. 

Your legs feel like jelly, and you nod weakly. It does feel good. Too good. So overwhelmingly good that a foreign, euphoric sensation is taking over you. You can’t seem to control your body, and you can’t stop the flow of cute, pleasured mewls flowing from your mouth, and you manage to scream out a warning to Yuki. “S-something is—” 

A clear stream of liquid spurts out of you, splashes onto him, soaks your cute comforter. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing.” Your walls are too sensitive now, but throughout the whole process, Yukimiya never stops thrusting his fingers in and out of your inexperienced cunt. His eyes are wide, but the gleam in them is sharp, hungry, calculating. “I didn’t even get a chance to mess with your cute little clit. You came just from penetration?” He finally removes his fingers, examining the way your juices are dripping off his digits. “You didn’t just cum, you squirted.”

You turn your head, trying to bury your face in a pillow so he can’t see the embarrassed and debauched expression on your face, but he takes his dry hand and forces you to continue looking up at him.

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart.” He coos, sucking at his fingers obscenely before releasing them from his mouth with a pop!. “It means you’re perfect and all ready for me.” 

Kenyu knows that his cock is the first cock you’ve ever seen, and he’ll make damn certain that it’s the only one you’ll be seeing for the rest of your life. There’s no frame of reference for you to use, but you don’t think that men should be so big. When he frees his dick, making a show of squeezing tightly at the base and pumping it, showing off to you, you swallow hard. 

He taps the head of his cock against your swollen, needy clit, teasing the both of you. He’s losing all sense of restraint, and even rubbing the underside of his cock against your glistening folds, trying to slick up his cock so it’ll be easier to glide into your soaked cunt, is enough to make him want to cum. 

“I’m going to fuck you now, sweetheart.” His voice sounds strained, the gentle tone hanging on by a thread. “We’ll be making love for the first time. Aren’t you excited?” 

You nod. Excited and nervous. His cock much larger than his fingers, and maybe he should have prepped you more, but you came so easily. He always knew you were perfect for him. Pleasure is so unknown to you, the tiniest taste of it is enough to take you out. Perfect, perfect, perfect.

He holds your hand and kisses you to distract you from the sting of his cock breaching your virgin cunt. You gasp into the kiss, pain registering in your mind first, but Yukimiya is quick to take your breath away, to swallow up any potential protests that might have come. He keeps on kissing you, his fingers intertwined with your own, and he’s pushing himself as deep as he can go. He only lets up from the kiss the second he’s buried to the hilt, and you greedily swallow up the oxygen you’ve been deprived of. 

The feeling of a hard cock inside of you is foreign, but your body clings to his length. Unlike his fingers, with its dexterous ministrations that had you keening and squirting when he brushed them against a special spot, his cock fills you up, stuffs you full. Your cunt is greedily sucking him in, and when he whispers that he’s going to really start moving now, it’s not just one spot that he’s hitting.

You’re not sure what’s happening to your body, but it feels like Yukimiya is wringing out pleasure from you from every angle inside of you. 

“Ah, fuck, you feel so good for me, sweetheart. Such a tight pussy, so wet, so warm.” The heat encasing his cock is nothing like he’s ever experienced before. The wet warmth of your pussy is so inviting, so intensely pleasurable, that Kenyu doesn’t think he’ll be able to last. Cumming so soon might be embarrassing, but it’s not. Not when it’s his sweet girl’s pussy that’s begging for his cum. 

You wail out his name, your legs reflexively encircling around his waist, locking him in, keeping him close to you as you cum again. This orgasm is practically ripped out from you, your cunt way too sensitive, the repeated battering of his cock drilling into your hole too much for your inexperienced mind and body to handle. 

“Kenyu, Kenyu, Kenyu!” When you say his name like that, it makes it hard for him to not immediately bust a load inside of you. Gone is the gentle expression from your boyfriend’s face; in its place is something feral, dark. 

When he pulls out, he sees your white cream coating his cock. When he thrusts back in, he hears the lewd squelch of your wet, overstuffed pussy. It’s enough to drive a man insane with lust.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He grunts out, and your head struggles to remain straight, to not loll to the side and let yourself be used. You look up at him, but your eyes are glassy and your mind seems to be in a far away place, so far gone, so fucked out. “We’re going to get married soon. So it’s okay if I get you pregnant right now, right?” His bare cock fucking your virgin pussy raw. He’s going crazy. “I’m gonna fill you up, get you all nice and bred for me. Make you my wife, make you a mommy.” 

The domestic daydream makes you tighten up around him, even though your body is too weak to cum again. That’s alright. He’ll just have to cum enough for the both of you. 

“Hang onto me, sweetheart.” And you do. Your legs are still wrapped around him, but you weakly raise your arms, holding him close to you. He starts pounding at your pussy, his unrivaled speed and strength turning you into mush. You have to dig your nails into the muscled skin of his back, feeling like you’re on the edge of a cliff, about to crash. 

“Fuck, I’m about to put a baby in you, love. My sweet girl, my sweet wife.” He kisses you, messy and sloppy, and he stills. The aggressive thrusts stop, and you realize why. 

There’s a new heat entering inside of you; hot spurts of his cum are pouring into you, and he only moves his hips a bit to plug you up further, to make sure none of his seed can trickle out of you. 

You’re about to lose consciousness, your brain fried from pleasure and exhaustion. All you do is weakly mumble out his name before the world goes black.

You think if this is what making love is, you love love.

“Holy shit, Yukki.” Isagi gapes at his shirtless teammate. 

Yukimiya glances up, about to pull his jersey over his head. “What?” 

“What the hell happened to you?” 

“Hm?” He asks, before turning to try to examine his back. Across the pale muscles are thin, red scratches, fading slightly from the time it’s been etched onto his skin by your nails. He smiles serenely, his mild-mannered attitude ever present. “Oh, this? My fiancee likes me close to her at all times.” 

[moonstruckme]

hiiiii mae!! hope ur having a good day/night, i was wondering if you would do a emt!marauders (or just remus) fic with a reader who maybe has past medical trauma or something so she really hates going to the doctors and avoids unplanned visits at all costs and one day she gets hurt doing something and she tells herself she’s fine but she’s really not (maybe she has like a concussion or something) and she tries to tell the boys she’s okay and she doesn’t need to go to the hospital but they’re like “yes you do u literally don’t know what day it is” and she kinda starts freaking out and they comfort her????

so sorry if you’ve done something like this you’ve written a LOT of fics (which is amazing i love them all) and i haven’t gotten the chance to read them all yet! anyways hope you have a great day i love ur fics so much!!!!!!

Thank you for your request, love you <3

cw: concussion, hospital mention, implied medical fear/past trauma

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 770 words

“This is supposed to be the sort of thing that only happens to old ladies,” Sirius mutters. “Look at James, dollface.” 

James’ smile is encouraging. “He knows he’s full of shit. We see people fall in showers all the time, it’s not an age thing. You don’t have to be geriatric for soap to be slippery.” 

You know, distantly, that they’re both trying to keep things light for your benefit, but their playacting isn’t helping you. You feel trapped, backed into a corner, and your lovely boyfriends who only want the best for you feel like your captors. 

Sirius clicks off the light he was shining in your eyes just as Remus comes back with your clothes. They exchange a look you don’t like. 

“Here, sweetheart, put this on.” Remus helps you get a sweatshirt over your head, extra careful to hold the collar away from the aching bump on the back of your head. 

You stand from the bed bemusedly as he starts putting your sweatpants on for you, too. You don’t love the vibe of all this coddling, either; the boys are usually only this delicate with you when they’re very concerned, very pitying, or both. 

“What’s going on?” you ask, though you already know. It’s not as if you would usually hang about in your towel all night after a shower, but they’re getting you dressed for a reason. 

James’ brows twitch together sympathetically. Sirius’ voice is gentle. “Baby, we need to go get your head looked at.” 

Your upset blooms fast and hot, tears choking you. “Why?” 

“You have a concussion, sweet girl. It seems fairly bad already, and it could get worse.” 

“But you’re…you always say hospitals can’t even do anything for those.” You know you sound childish, whiny and difficult, but you can’t help yourself. Your boyfriends don’t seem to hold it against you. James rubs your arm while Remus pulls your socks on with sweet, lingering touches. A tear squeezes out of your eye. “Why do I have to go?” 

“You’re right, there’s not much they can do,” says Remus. His voice is calm and even, a balm to your frazzled nerves. “But a concussion can be dangerous, and without tests we won’t know how dangerous it is or if there’s anything they can help with.” 

“That’s all we’re going for, angel,” James says lightly. “Just some tests. It won’t take terribly long, and we can stay with you most of the time.” 

You’re hardly hearing him, shaking your head despite the way it aches. More tears crest your cheeks, your breaths wet and quick. “Can’t we wait and go tomorrow?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” James takes your hand, squeezing your fingers. “We can’t, my love, but it’s going to be okay.” 

“I really can’t.” You pull your hand from his, wiping underneath your eyes. Your hair is still wet from the shower, cold seeping into your fresh sweatshirt. “I can’t do it. Please don’t make me.” Your voice chokes into a quiet squeak on the last few words. 

Remus coos and sits beside you on the bed, wrapping you up in a hug. You cry into his shoulder as he rocks you gently, murmuring against the side of your head. “Please,” you try again. 

He holds you closer. “I know, darling.” His voice is a low whisper. “I know it’s hard for you, and I know it’s scary, but we’ll be there with you. It’s not going to be as bad as you’re thinking. What we’re going for is really very simple, and Sirius can explain it to you on the way, hm? You’ll be alright.” 

When you calm some, he goes to warm the car, passing you off to Sirius and James to get your shoes on. 

“Nothing’s gonna happen to you, baby,” Sirius promises, kissing the shell of your ear as he walks you outside. His arm is heavy around your shoulders and James is quick to take your hand after locking the door behind you, bolstering you for what’s ahead. “You think we’re gonna let you get hurt? This is going to be the easiest hospital visit you ever had. We run this place, they’ll have us in and out.” 

“I wouldn’t say we run it,” Remus says drily as you three pile into the backseat. “More like we engage with it, in twelve hour shifts, four to five times a week.” 

“But we do have lots of friends,” James chips in. 

“Exactly.” Sirius busies himself with wiping the last of your tears while James gets your seatbelt on. “Like the radiographer at Bellevue. You’ll see, baby. We’ve got you covered.”

[multipleoccupancy]

"Yeah there is that," Theo playfully agreed, though he had struggled to understand some of what she had been saying, with the accent fading and him being a little more used to it he thought he was back on track in understanding her again. He knew Andrea struggled sometimes with her phrases, heck, so did Theo. He did his best to learn and understand but there were some things that would just be forever beyond his grasp.

The bright flush at the mention of a crush was very hard to hide and the adamant denial and mouthful of popcorn was clue enough. Theo's eyes lingered on her for a moment as he debated with himself. "You do know I am an FBI agent right?" he asked, his eyebrows rising. "I'm quite hard to fool." Most of the time anyway, right?

"Someone has caught your eye?" He checked, though in his head it was actually some actor from the movies she had been watching, he certainly hoped it was. Though he could feel the stinging at the back of his head for the worry of what if it wasn't and it was, heaven forbid a real boy?! "You can tell me," he encouraged softly and nudged her gently with his elbow, playful despite him actually wanting to know now! Did they have to have a talk?!

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet blushed a little bit at her dad's playful comment. Lately, she had almost exclusively picked westerns, whenever she was the one in charge of picking the movie. She thanked him for the hot chocolate and the popcorn and pressed play, before settling comfortably on the couch.

"Does she?" she chuckled, "I guess I've been havin' kind of a phase. And with the accent..." Though it had started to fade a little bit now that she was back home, she still had a little bit of that Southern drawl.

Her cheeks turned a brighter shade of red at the mention that she might have a crush on one of the actors. A young Clint Eastwood was staring smoulderingly at the camera, and it so happened that he did look a lot like, well... Bill Swenson. "I don't have a crush on anyone," she stammered a little awkwardly, before shoving a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

May I request a situation where Kento suddenly turns corrupt in a way that he loses all respect and simply wants to sexually take advantage of fem!reader? Just fucking her rough like a rag doll. Whether it be a curse or aphrodisiac (that can be up to your amazing imagination) But of course, there’s consent and miss reader has a ball with it.

Ohhhh! This is what I needed to break back into writing JJK. But I feel like there's defiinitely some work out there where Kento rough fucks his s/o thanks to a curse or aphrodisiac and I was struggling to write something that felt fresh. This might be a little softer than what was asked because while I'm ok with writing degradation, I think Kento would struggle quite a bit with this.

I hope I've done this justice!

Warnings: MDNI, degradation, derogatory name calling, CNC, objectification, dacryphilia, free use, rough sex, S&M

Use Me

It's a quiet evening as your husband brings you a warm cup of coffee, pressing a kiss to you head as he sits next to you. He stretches and lets out a breath, relishing the peace, and puts an arm around you, drawing you closer for comfort. You sip quietly and appear lost in thought. Ever observant, Kento quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Something on your mind?" To his surprise, your eyes flick up to his over the coffee cup and a blush starts to dust over your cheeks and nose. "What's with that face?" Kento smiles, flattered at the sight and puts a hand on your wrist to lower the coffee cup. Your lips twist into an embarrassed smile and you shake your head, looking away.

"It's nothing I was just thinking about something." You sip and put the mug down on the table. Kento notices the way you hold yourself, the slight tension in your shoulders and the way your eyes look like you want to divulge a secret but were unsure if you should do so. The hand on your wrist slides and he lays his large, warm, hand over yours.

"What is it sweetheart?" He brushes away some stray strands of hair from your face. You bite your lip doubtfully, then decide to spill the beans. "Kento, there's something I want us to...try." You say in a strange tone, like you're still weighing the cons. Kento nods, encouraging you to go on.

"It's...related to sex."

This catches his interest. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It might not be something you're into."

"Try me." He reassuringly pulls you against him, allowing you a grateful moment of privacy as you hide your face in his neck. You clear your throat and continue.

"I want you to take advantage of me. Sexually."

"Am I not already doing that?" Kento jokes but you shake your head, your hair tickling his skin.

"I mean...I want to be used. Objectified. Degraded. Made to feel like I'm just a toy for your entertainment." You pause and he feels you take in a deep breath before continuing. "I basically want you to reduce me to being holes that you use for your pleasure and nothing more."

Kento's heart pounds in his chest as you word your request. "You want me to use you like that?"

"Yeah. And like, I don't want you to be gentle either. I want you to be rough. Like leave bite marks all over me. Don't have sex with me. Fuck me. Roughly. Hard." The blood in his veins grows hot and he pets your hair.

"Are you sure?"

"It's something I always wanted to try. Not that I don't like how it is now. But. I didn't know how to ask." You feel his lips nuzzle your ear and his hands reassuringly stroke your back.

"Sweetheart you know I'm willing to try a lot of things. But I never want to compromise your safety or well-being. I can be rough if you want. But you need to tell me if it's too much. I can't stand the thought of doing something that'll hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. And we have our safe word. I promise to use it." There's a moment of silence as Kento imagines how this would go. You're his favorite person in the whole world, whom he loves and respects. But at the same time, this idea has him incredibly aroused, the thought of using you to his will and forcing you to submit to debauched acts that he's never allowed himself to think about.

He presses another soft kiss to your forehead.

"If it'll make you happy then all right."

--------

You whimper as Kento bites your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, wiping away the blotch with his thumb. He's unrecognizable to you. You've only seen him like before for a specific scenario; when he's hunting down a curse. It sends a skitter of fear through you but also brings forth a strong rush of arousal that makes your cunt clench in need.

"Now remember slut, you're mine to be used. And I'm only letting you rest after I've fucked and filled you to my satisfaction. And if I hear you complaining, know that I have better uses for that mouth. Now on your knees."

You kneel, keeping your eyes trained on the floor, feeling your heart pounding at what was about to happen. Kento roughly yanks your head up by your hair. "Open."

You part your lips then gasp as he shoves his cock without warning, sliding the hard flesh down your throat. You try to relax your muscles, choking in relief as he comes up then repeats the action. You're on the verge of gagging before he gives you reprieve. Saliva drips from your mouth as he gathers your hair and pushes back in, holding you firmly in place until your nose hits his pubes before thursting forcefully, grunting at the slickness of your wet, willing mouth.

You feel your breathless from the effort of keeping him in your mouth, feeling him nearly touching the entrance to your throat, tears streaming from your eyes as you struggle to accomodate all of him. When he finally pulls out you take in a thankful breath of air, spluttering from the freedom.

"Pathetic. Can't even deepthroat cock. What good are you?" His hands wrap around your throat just hard enough to give you that dizzying light-headed feeling as your brain is deprived of air before letting go. He pauses, watching you writhe on the floor to catch your breath. Once it steadies, he commands you.

"Crawl."

Turned on and feeling debased, you get on your hands and knees and start crawling on the floor, your ass jiggling with each movement that you make. You hear footsteps then squeal as Kento's hand slaps the soft flesh. You freeze as the sting ripples through you before Kento jerks your head back by your hair.

"I didn't say to stop crawling. Stupid whore. Who said you can stop just because you felt a little pain?" He brings his hand down repeatedly as you pathetically begin to crawl again, sniffing as you go.

"Crying when you know this all you're good for? Stop acting like you're above this." He leaves your ass smarting, red and pulsing from his abuse. His calloused hands grab your fleshy cheeks and spread them apart and he chuckles darkly. "Don't tell me you're turned on."

You whimper as you feel him insert a finger into your moist hole, probing forcefully before withdrawing. "Just when I thought you could sink no lower. You really are nothing but a basic piece of meat just hoping a cock will fill you and make you feel like you have a purpose."

His finger withdraws and he pulls you up abruptly, his hands harshly squeezing your breasts, pinching your nipples aggressively and earning a keening noise from you, your whole body feeling a sensitive blob. He twists and pulls, and you squirm in his grasp, causing him to growl and grip your chin, his fingers digging into your skin.

"Stop acting like you want to escape." He firmly spanks your pussy and your body jolts from the surprise, a cry leaving you. "You crave this. Want this. Because deep down, you know there's nothing more you want than to be a glorified fucktoy. That's all. You're a vessel to hold my cum, if I decide you're worthy enough to receive it."

He pushes one of your breasts up to his mouth and suckles roughly and you can feel the edges of his teeth skimming along the sensitive peaks. Kento releases it and does the same for the other, and just when your senses start to calm down, he sinks his teeth into the nipple, just hard enough for you make a noise of pain. He smirks.

"Oh. So you do have a limit." He bites the other nipple with similar force and you let out a broken sob. "Tsk. You're not very good at being a fucktoy are you?"

He shoves you to the bed and you fall on the soft mattress. You hear the clink of chains and see him securing handcuffs around your ankles before securing the free ends to the bedposts, angling your legs so that they're spread apart wide. Your wet pussy is exposed to his feral eyes and he licks his lips at the sight of the glistening membranes. He flicks your clit cruelly, enjoying the way you twitch and struggle.

"Oh you're dumb aren't you? Haven't you learned what happens when you try to avoid me?" He spanks your clit again, and your eyes roll back into your head as you try to separate the confusing blur of pain and pleasure that shoots through you body.

"Why is it that the more pain I give you, the wetter your dumb whore cunt gets?" The resounding echo of his palm on your wet folds gets louder with each slap until your clit is swollen and red from the repeated blows.

"Look at that. You actually want more after all that." Before you can process what's happening, Kento shifts on the bed and plunges his hard cock into your pussy. The stretch makes you sob because you weren't quite ready for him, the push slightly painful, but as you adjust to him, the feeling fades. His movements are harsh and selfish, swiftly bottoming out each time and hitting your cervix, setting a brutal pace that has you feeling like you might black out.

You let out a shocked squeak as his thumb starts to manhandle your clit, brushing over it in savage strokes that bring you dangerously close to the edge. Strings of incoherent noises spill from your lips, sounding more and more animalistic as your brain turns off all rational thought and begins to fill with need. You just wanted to orgasm, then have the satisfaction of Kento's seed filling your wet channel, to feel him soften inside you before the next round....

You let a quivering wail as your orgasm hits and Kento huffs in satisfaction as he feels your walls clenching him as you cum. Your feet thrash against their restraints as the ripple of orgasmic pleasure rocks your body. "You can't help it can you? Being a cumslut?"

His hips start to pick up pace and slam into you as he chases his orgasm, his breathing becoming ragged, hands digging into your skin hard enough to leave bruises as he uses your hole to satisfy the raging, primal need that's fuelling his actions. His movements become sloppy and the edges of his vision start to blur.

"Here it comes. Your reward. Try not to spend it all in once place." With a final thrust, thick ropes of cum start to fill your insides and he shudders with the satisfaction. A moment passes before he pulls out of you, leaking his seed as he withdraws. You lay spent and exhausted on the bed.

Kento finally breaks character and crouches over you. "You didn't use your safe word."

"I didn't need to."

[dorabellingham]

First day of school

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader x baby boy

summary: when it's your child's first day of school but you're very attached

request: yes

may contain spelling and translation errors!

It was a day of mixed emotions at the Bellingham house. Benjamin's first day of school had arrived, and you were ready to accompany the little boy to school in Madrid. Ben, only five years old, had a look of doubt and fear on his face. He understood a few words in spanish, since he had contact with the language on a daily basis, but his natural language was English, and this barrier only made him more apprehensive.

The morning began with careful preparation. You chose Benji's favorite backpack, with dinosaur characters, and Jude prepared a special snack with your son's favorite snacks. However, the expression on the little boy's face remained the same: he was not at all excited.

When you finally left the house, with the little boy holding the hand of each of his parents, Ben looked at you with a pleading look, as if trying to say without words: "Why are you doing this to me?". On the way, you and Jude exchanged encouraging glances, knowing you were making the right decision, but also feeling your hearts ache.

As soon as you arrived at the preschool, Jude got down to Benji's level and explained.

—Benji, you're going to make lots of little friends here. Mommy and daddy will be waiting for you at the end of the day, and I promise that if you're a brave boy, we'll go to the Bernabéu on Saturday. How about that?

He tried to sound as enthusiastic as possible, hoping that would cheer up the little boy, but he just looked at his father with those big, sad brown eyes, clutching his backpack tightly.

You also got down next to your husband and caressed your son's little face.

—It'll only be a few hours, my love. Mommy will be here before you know it. And look, you'll get to play and learn new things! Remember how you always ask about things? Here you'll get lots of answers.

You gave him an encouraging smile, but your little boy didn't seem convinced.

—I don't want to stay, mommy. I don't want to.

He repeated softly, while holding his parents' hands tightly.

The teacher, who was watching patiently, approached, smiling warmly.

—Hola, Ben! Mi nombre es Carlos. ¿Te gustan los dinosaurios?

He asked, pointing to the boy's backpack.

Benjamin looked at him suspiciously, but nodded slowly. He understood a little of what the teacher was saying, but he still felt lost.

—¡Genial! Tenemos juguetes de dinosaurios aquí adentro. ¿Quieres ver?

The teacher continued in spanish, trying to gain his trust.

You gave your son a gentle push to encourage him, but Benji was still hesitant. Jude, noticing his son's anguish, gave him an understanding smile.

—You'll do great, champ. Just a few hours, and then you can tell us everything you did, okay?

After a few more attempts at convincing, Benjamin slowly let go of your hand and followed the teacher with small, uncertain steps. You felt a lump in your throat as you watched your son enter the preschool for the first time without you or Jude around, while your husband lightly squeezed your shoulder in support. It was a big step, both for Benji and for you.

However, as you began to walk away from the entrance, you could hear Benji calling.

—Mommy! Daddy!

He had tears in his eyes, holding a toy dinosaur that the teacher had given him. Your heart broke when you heard your son’s call, and you looked at Bellingham with a look of despair.

Jude took a step towards the entrance, but then turned to you and spoke softly:

—We have to trust that he’ll be okay. It’s the first step, remember?

You nodded, your eyes full of tears, but took a deep breath and waved to your son, smiling and blowing kisses from afar. Benji looked at them, confused and sad, before being taken back by the teacher, who was distracting him with the toys.

——

At home, you tried to distract yourselves, but you both found yourselves looking at your cell phones, waiting for any updates from school. For you, every minute felt like an eternity.

—Babe, I can’t take it anymore...

You murmured sadly as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

—Can we pick you up earlier, sweetheart? —Jude said, his large hands caressing your back. —I feel like they took a part of me.

Bored, you walked around the house, tidying up your son's toys and checking to see if his room was in order, as if that would help you feel more connected. Jude, on the other hand, kept himself busy with training videos, but with each notification, he quickly checked his phone.

Finally, after hours that seemed like days, the phone rang, and the school informed him that Ben was fine, although he had cried a little at first, which was normal for the first day. He had gradually fit in with the other children and was starting to feel more comfortable. You looked at each other, both sighing in relief.

—He's my son, it would be very difficult not to become popular on the first day.

The man gave an almost correct wink, he was finally learning.

—It doesn't even seem like you were crying half an hour ago, Jude Victor.

You said, laughing softly, but the feeling of relief was so gratifying.

When they went to pick up Benji, he ran into your arms, and Jude immediately picked him up, hugging him tightly.

—How was it, champ?

Jude asked with a smile, while Benji snuggled into his father’s chest.

—It was… weird. —Benji replied, still confused, but he seemed less sad. —The kids spoke differently.

You stroked your son’s curly hair and smiled.

—But you’re learning to understand what they say in spanish, aren’t you, my love?

Ben nodded slowly, looking a little more confident.

—The teacher gave me a dinosaur.

Jude laughed and looked at you.

—See? You even got a new dinosaur! You know, we’re going to the Bernabéu this weekend, like I promised. How about it?

The mini copy of Jude smiled a small but genuine smile when he heard that. He loved the stadium and the idea of ​​going there with his father always excited him. You crouched down next to Jude and looked into your son’s eyes.

—We’re so proud of you, Benji. You were so brave today.

You kissed his forehead, and he smiled back, finally relaxing.

As you walked to the car, Ben held his parents’ hands tightly, and you and Jude exchanged knowing, happy looks. You knew there would still be challenges, but that first day was the beginning of a new phase for your family.

[ninuwrites]

Hi there! Are you still up to writing for Van Helsing? Because I’d love a fluff and smut story with him if you are! Like, one night you’re cuddling as you’re settling in, but the moment just feels right so one thing leads to another (No pressure, thanks in advance!)

just to be sure| GV

summary: you and gabriel have a peaceful evening (or not)

warnings: smut, p in v, oral (f!receiving), breeding kink(as always), dirty talk here and there

a/n: YIPIII!!! finally i finished this! i wanted to post this on halloween but ofc i didn’t make it😭 anyways i hope you’ll like this as much as i love vanhelsing (which is like a lot). ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE! so sorry for any mistakes! i love you so much and enjoy!💋

——————————————————-—————————

you and gabriel decided to finally settle down, in a cozy cottage, in the mountains. after years of catching monsters together and your serious injury, both of you let your hunter past and chose to take your vows and build a family rather than losing each other.

you were preparing snacks for your movie night while gabriel was taking a shower. after setting down a couple of bowls and plates on the coffee table, you sat down and waited for gabriel to finish his routine.

meanwhile you looked up a few scary movies for gabriel to choose from.

he entered the living room with his hair still wet and in his black tank top. he was holding a blanket and a pillow in each hand.

as he was sitting down you immediately cuddled to his side, grabbing and intertwined your hands.

he put a pillow down on the couch and covered both of you with a blanket.

finally he looked at you,

“hey my beautiful wife.” he murmured, squeezed your hand and gave you a soft kiss on the top of your head.

“hi.” you smiled, kissing his lips softly.

“what are we watching.” he asked, his hand caressing your cheeks.

“that’s up you tonight my handsome husband.” you giggled and showed him the movies he could choose from.

after finally setting up the movie, you laid your head on gabriels chest and played with his hands. after all in past few weeks you didn’t have time for each other so you were really looking forward to enjoying your time together.

but gabriel had other plans.

he tried to hold it together, but you looked so beautiful and you smelled so nice he just had to do something about it.

at first he was at war with himself, he knew you were excited for your movie night so he didn’t want to ruin it. but halfway through the movie all he could think about was you.

he started with drawing small circles and playing with the meet of your tight. after a while his fingers just got higher and higher until he heard your breath hitched. you put your hand on top of his and looked up at him.

he was looking into your eyes, waiting for you to give any sign that he could continue with his movements. all you did was, you grabbed his hand and put it in the center or your clothed heat.

“forgive me father for i am about to sin” he mumbled.

he put your body on top of his, you straddling him, your hands in his hair, your lips never leaving his.

you slowly slowly started to grind down on him, you could feel how hard he was under his shorts.

he kissed down your neck, leaving small bites and marks, his hands gripping your hips tighter and tighter every second. suddenly he thrusted you down on his clothed cock.

you moaned out, which encouraged gabriel to go faster, one of his hands traveling down your body to put off your soaked panties.

“what do you want baby hmm?” he asked, his teasing grin reappearing.

you hid in your face in the crook of his neck, “you.. please.” you mumbled.

gabriel rolled his eyes, grabbing you by the hair so that you would face him, “be a good girl and look at me when i’m talking to you” he said.

“please… i want you.” you repeated yourself, blush creeping up your cheeks.

“be more specific honey,” he continued his teasing, squeezing your cheeks.

“want to feel you inside me please.” you begged a little.

“that’s my good girl.” he smiled, satisfied. his hand travelled down to your cunt, teasing a bit.

“stop it, please, please i need you.” you plead.

and who was he to deny such a well behaved girl.

he slowly inserted one finger inside of you, speeding now and then, adding second finger not long after.

his fingers made you see stars, his second hand rubbing your clit oh so good. you felt your orgasm approaching when your lower belly tightened.

gabriel felt it too, so… he stopped his movements.

you whined out, looking down at him, your legs trembling. “what- what’re you doing? why-“ you didn’t have time to comprehend what was happening. suddenly you were laid on your back, gabriels head between your legs.

“you can take it baby, i know you can.” he mumbled more to himself than you.

without a warning he started ravishing your dripping cunt, the feeling in your tummy returning more intense than before.

your legs were shaking, gabriel ate you out like you were his last meal.

out of a sudden, orgasm washes over you, gabriel licking up every drop of your slick heat.

he slowly kissed his way up your body, sweet phrases leaving his mouth such as:

“did so good, my beautiful girl”

“could taste you forever, my perfect girl”

he left some bite marks here and there, his possessiveness showing up. his hands were not left behind, one of them grabbed your tit, the other was left on your hip helping to grind his hips into yours.

he was nipping at your jaw, your arms were around his neck trying to get a kiss on the lips. he was such a tease sometimes!

in return, one of your hands travelled down his body, playing with the band of his shorts, your hand slowly caressing his lower belly.

he breathed out, his hand gripping your ass harder, surely leaving marks or a bruise. you took his leaking shaft into your hand, squeezing him and jerking him a little, small whimpers leaving him which got you even wetter than before.

he desperately put off his shorts, his hard, thick and leaking cock sprung out, his red tip asking for all the attention.

you centred him to your entrance, gabriel slightly teasing your wet hole, sliding in not long after.

you could never get used to the feeling of him. he is so big, so thick, his shaft is veiny and always giving you the greatest pleasure.

he slid inside of you, your noses brushing against each other, his eyes locking into yours while he gave you some to adjust to him.

after a few moments he started to grind his hips against yours. “so- so big, always get me so f- full.” you half moaned out, knowing that gabriel likes any kind of praise from you.

“squeezing me so tight baby, feels like the first time every time with you.” gabriel whispered, finally thrusting in and out of you.

you couldn’t hold moans and whimpers even if you wanted to. he always made you feel like you were on cloud nine.

“go har- harder, please.” you pleaded, which was the soft spot for gabriel.

his thrust became wilder, animalistic even, his possessive side coming up. he wanted to claim you, all of you. he wanted everyone to know that your his girl, his little beautiful wife who he intends to keep forever and beyond.

he couldn’t get the thought of you stuffed with him and pregnant with his child. that’s what god wants too.

right?

your begs and moans just turned him on more and more, his thrusts getting more and more powerful and faster each second.

suddenly the warm feeling in your lower tummy reappeared, the feeling of your high increasing. gabriel acknowledging it too because of how hard your tight walls squeezed him.

“you want to cum my dear?”

want to soak me?”

“cmon let go baby.”

he always knew what to say to you, you were like an open book to him.

“cum for me.” he commanded which was hard not to follow.

your orgasm peaked while gabriel did not slow down, overstimulating your already used cunt. your nails dug into his back, scratching him which caused gabriel to let out a loud groan.

“keep doing that and i won’t pull out sweetheart.” he mumbled into your ear.

“than don’t.” you moaned out back, your head hazy from the overstimulation that still didn’t stop.

and that was all reassurance that gabriel needed.

his pace sped up, faster than before his eyes went completely black. his only concern was to breed you nice and full of his juices.

it didn’t take long for him to get over the edge. in no time he was finishing inside of you, his hips stuttering as his thick white cum painted your soft walls.

out of breath, he fell on to of you, his head resting on your chest. your hand went up to his beautiful, long, brown hair and you started to scratched his scalp.

after few minutes, when you both finally steadied your breaths, he brought his head up, his eyes scanning your face.

he gave you a slow passionate kiss, and said , “i love you my darling, i already tied a knot with you and now i want you to be the mother of my children.”

his hand went up to caress your cheek which you gladly accepted and nuzzled your head into his hand.

“gabriel, i wouldn’t want to have kids with anyone other than you. i love you my handsome husband.” you smiled.

this sentence alone got you many many kisses and many more attempts to get you pregnant.

you know, just to be sure.

[moowmoon]

SANDWICHES, KISSES AND MESS

— spencer reid x fem!reader

— summary: it was the perfect afternoon for spencer. he was with her, making sandwiches and a slight mess.

— c/w: i think none?

— w/c: 1.4k

— a/n: hello! another spencer one-shot! i want to thank's margot (@pathologicalreid) and ket (@mandarinmoons) to help me choosing spencer for this one-shot! i hope you guys like it and let me know your thoughts! english is not my first language, so forgive me if there's any mistake!

The kitchen was illuminated by a soft light, filtered by the late afternoon that poured through the windows. Ingredients were spread out on the worktop, and a pile of bread slices and assorted cheeses were waiting for their turn at the small improvised feast. Spencer was focused, holding a knife with almost comical concentration as he cut a piece of cheese. Next to him, she was trying to open a jar of jam, the lid tougher than she imagined, drawing a restrained laugh from him.

“Do you need any help with that, Miss Independent?” he teased, with a smile that was a mixture of playfulness and defiance.

She rolled her eyes, laughing. “Spencer, I can open a jar of jam.” She tried again, but the glass slipped out of her hands, almost falling to the floor before she caught it in the air in an involuntary reflex.

“Of course you can.” he whispered with a wink, holding up the jar. Spencer slid her hand down the side of the glass, his fingers firm and warm against hers. Even though they didn't look at each other for a moment, the subtle closeness seemed to ignite something in the air, an electricity that hovered between them.

Little by little, the ingredients lined up on the counter, each one in its place as if waiting for the right moment to be used. Spencer reached out to take a slice of bread, but at the same moment she did the same, and their fingers met. They laughed, but no one moved for a second, their fingers lingering on the bread as if that simple touch could contain an entire conversation.

“You mean I'm stealing your piece of bread now?” she joked, looking at him with a challenging smile.

Spencer laughed quietly, still holding the slice of bread close to her. “Well, I'm not one to share my sandwich… but I think I can make an exception for you.”

She let go of the bread, laughing, and the two of them continued assembling the sandwiches. While she spread some mustard on the slices, Spencer picked up the pot next to her to pour in the grated cheese, and their arms crossed again, a light touch, but full of tenderness that they both pretended not to notice.

They exchanged glances between casual laughs, the tension between them growing as if each touch were a silent secret.

While she concentrated on spreading the cheese on the bread, Spencer grabbed a handful of flour from the worktop, a spark of mischief forming in his eyes. He waited for the right moment, leaning down next to her, pretending to be interested in what he was doing, until, with one agile movement, he dabbed a little flour on her nose.

She stopped, blinking in surprise. “Spencer Reid, did you really do that?”

He laughed, taking a step back, his hands raised in feigned innocence. “I couldn't resist. You were an easy target.”

She tried to wipe up the flour but ended up spreading even more, which only made him laugh louder. Determined, she picked up a piece of tomato from the board, threatening to throw it at him.

“Don't even think about it.” he warned, laughing, but her defiant tone only encouraged him further. She threw the tomato in his direction, hitting him lightly on the shoulder.

“Now it's war.” he joked, leaning towards her, but when she tried to dodge, he pulled her close, their laughter mixing as the space between them shrank, their eyes exchanging sparks in silent banter.

After the little battle with flour and tomatoes, Spencer and his partner were still panting with laughter. The kitchen was filled with a slight mess, scattered ingredients, and a delicious smell in the air. As she tried to catch her breath, Spencer watched her with a satisfied smile, admiring how the strands of hair fell over her face.

“You're a mess,” he said jokingly, running his hand over her cheek, where a little flour was still stuck. She smiled, finding it funny.

“You started it!” she retorted, but she couldn't look away from him, an intensity beginning to take over the space between them.

Spencer didn't withdraw his hand, letting it rest on her cheek for a second longer, their fingers intertwining gently. Their laughter subsided, giving way to a heavy silence where words seemed unnecessary. He stared at her, his gaze deep, as if he were evaluating every fraction of a moment. The warmth of his hands mingled with that of the kitchen itself.

She took a deep breath, a shy smile forming on her lips as the connection between them grew stronger with each passing moment. The touch that had only been playful now seemed deeper, and she wondered if he too felt the same electricity in the air.

“So,” he began, his voice a little lower, almost a whisper, ”what else do you have in mind for our sandwich?”

The moment seemed suspended, and she knew the answer was beyond words. The simplicity of the kitchen was transformed into a space where intimacy flourished, and every beat of their hearts seemed to shout that this moment was even more special.

The tension between them hung in the air, each absorbing the silent energy that pulsed between the touches and glances they exchanged. Spencer was still holding her hand, and slowly, as if time had slowed down, he raised his other hand, sliding it gently under her cheek. The touch was delicate, but the electricity they felt was palpable.

She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing the sensation to envelop her. Spencer, watching her, realized the fragility of that moment and moved even closer. His hand caressed her cheek, his thumbs gliding gently over the soft skin. It was a simple gesture, but it carried the depth of everything they didn't say in words.

When her eyes opened, she met his, so close that she could feel his breathing. The world around them seemed to disappear, and all that remained was that intense connection. The laughter and jokes had given way to a silence full of unspoken meanings.

“I…” Spencer began, but the words died on his lips. Instead, he leaned in, the distance between them fading. She followed him, their hearts beating in unison, until, without thinking, he ended the distance with a soft kiss.  It was a delicate touch, but full of urgency that they had both tried to ignore.

The kiss was a mixture of restrained laughter and silent promises, and she gave in, wrapping her arms around him, and pulling him closer. The warmth of the embrace enveloped her, and at that moment, everything seemed perfect. The kitchen, with its chaos, became the refuge where they could finally be honest, their bodies fitting together perfectly while the world continued outside, but they didn't care.

But suddenly, the shrill sound of the oven timer cut through the romantic atmosphere, echoing through the kitchen like an emergency alarm. Spencer and she moved away quickly, their faces flushed and their eyes wide with surprise.

“Wow, that was… unexpected.” she said, trying to hold back her laughter as she walked away, her lips still slightly tinged with a smile. Spencer let out a laugh, running his hand through his hair in a gesture of playful exasperation.

“I didn't know cooking was so dangerous,” he replied, walking over to the oven and opening the door. The smell of what they were preparing enveloped the kitchen, a mixture of ingredients that now seemed even more delicious after that moment.

She joined him, and they both looked at what they had made, their laughter mixing with the aroma of the sandwich. “Look at that! I don't think we're going to be able to make a perfect sandwich with the mess we've made.” she commented, looking at the flour spread and the traces of tomato on the worktop.

“Ah, but the mess is part of the fun, right?” Spencer said, throwing some flour in the air as if it were confetti. The act made her laugh, the echo of laughter filling the kitchen once again, dissolving any trace of tension.

“You're right! Let's make this sandwich a real work of art… or a masterpiece of mess!” she said, picking up a piece of bread and starting to assemble the ingredients again. Meanwhile, Spencer watched her, admiring the joy she brought to the kitchen and the warmth they still felt from their shared moment.

As they continued to work, their gazes crossed from time to time, carrying the memory of their kiss and the feeling of intimacy that still lingered between them. It was a mixture of playfulness and affection, a light moment that promised more laughter and connections ahead.

[daisymbin]

a little push - joshua hong

warnings: none except a tipsy joshua

pairings: joshua hong x reader

genre: drunken confession, friends to ???

wc: 1.3k

drunken confessions series

check out my masterlist!

the house party was buzzing with energy, laughter echoing in every corner. colorful lights flickered in sync with the music, casting a warm glow over the crowd. you weaved through groups of friends, feeling the infectious excitement in the air. but as you glanced around, your gaze landed on joshua, who was slumped in a quieter area, looking troubled. his usually bright demeanor was overshadowed by a cloud of concern as he stared into his drink.

something in your chest tightened at the sight of him like that. you had known joshua long enough to recognize when he was putting on a brave face. with a sense of determination, you made your way over, weaving through the dancing bodies until you reached him.

“hey buddy, what’s wrong?” you asked, kneeling beside him, hoping to break through whatever was weighing him down.

he squinted up at you, his expression a mix of confusion and sadness. “oh, hey… um. i’m not sure we’ve met,” he said, his voice slightly slurred.

“it’s okay,” you replied, forcing a smile despite the sudden pit in your stomach, you found him adorable, so you played along. “i just saw you looking a bit down and wanted to check in.”

“thanks, but it’s just… complicated.” he sighed, rubbing his forehead as if trying to erase the thoughts swirling in his mind. “don't tell anyone but i think…no im sure.. im sure i’m in love with my best friend, and it’s driving me crazy i dont know what to do.”

your heart raced at his confession, but you kept your expression neutral. you had always known he had strong feelings for someone, the boys always joked about it in front of you but even as his best friend, joshua was tight lipped, never telling you who it was, but hearing it out loud now especially from him hit differently. “really? that sounds tough. what’s stopping you from telling her?”

he leaned back, his hesitation palpable. “i don’t know. it’s risky. what if it ruins our friendship? what if she doesn’t feel the same? or worse, what if she’s in love with someone else?” he looked away, clearly grappling with the weight of his emotions.

you shifted a bit closer, sensing the turmoil within him. “those are valid concerns,” you said gently. “but keeping it to yourself can be just as risky. you might be missing out on something amazing.”

he let out a soft chuckle, tinged with bitterness. “yeah, maybe. but it’s easier to stay quiet than to take the chance and get hurt.”

“true,” you acknowledged. “but if you really care about her, wouldn’t you rather know the truth? it could be worth it.”

joshua looked at you, his brow furrowing as he considered your words. “i just wish i knew how she felt. it would make things so much easier.”

“maybe you could start by showing her how much she means to you,” you suggested, your heart racing as you spoke. “small gestures, spending more time together. see how she reacts. you seem like a great guy, im sure she feels the same about you.”

he nodded slowly, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “that makes sense. but still, what if she doesn’t reciprocate? what if it ruins everything?”

you took a moment to think, searching for the right words. “if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know where you stand,” you encouraged softly. “but you won’t know unless you take that step. living in uncertainty can be harder than facing the truth, no matter what it is.”

joshua sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. “i guess you’re right. it’s better than just sitting around, worrying.”

there was a moment of silence between you, and you could see him weighing his options, his mind racing with possibilities. you could tell he was still hesitant, reluctant to fully open up to a stranger, even one who was clearly trying to help.

“you’re really insightful for someone i just met,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. “it’s nice to talk to someone who isn’t directly involved.”

“i’m glad,” you said, feeling a little bittersweet knowing he still didn’t recognize you as his best friend. “just be brave. you’ve got this.”

he hesitated again, his expression contemplative. “it’s just… hard. what if i make everything awkward?”

“awkward moments can be part of growth,” you replied gently. “but they’re better than never trying at all.”

he took a deep breath, the weight of your conversation pressing on him. “you’re really pushing me to think about this, huh?”

“that’s the idea,” you said with a light laugh. “sometimes you need a little push to see things clearly.”

he looked at you, and for a brief moment, you felt the weight of the unspoken connection between you. but then he shook his head, as if clearing his thoughts. “i should probably go. i need to sort through this.”

“of course,” you said, giving him a gentle nod. “whatever you decide, just make sure it’s what you truly want.”

as he stood up, ready to leave, he paused, looking back at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “you really are a great friend, you know that?”

“thanks, joshua. i’m just here to help,” you replied, a bittersweet smile on your face.

he nodded, the gratitude in his eyes apparent. “i appreciate it. really. i’ll… i’ll think about what you said.”

as he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of longing in your chest. the party continued to pulse around you, but all you could think about was the possibilities ahead. would he take your advice? would he confess his feelings? you hoped he would, and that he would realize it was you he was meant to be with.

after a while, you found a spot on the couch, allowing yourself to relax a bit, but your mind was still racing. moments later, your phone buzzed in your pocket. you pulled it out to see a message from joshua. your heart skipped a beat as you opened it.

joshuji 🐰:

[02:47 AM] hey bunny, can we talk? well maybe tomorrow over lunch? I'm kinda hammered right now. but I've kinda been thinking about us a lot lately..I just…have something i need to get off my chest..

your breath caught in your throat as you read the message. you felt a wave of disbelief mixed with overwhelming happiness after all that hesitation in person.

of course, lunch at our favourite place?

you hit send, your heart pounding in your chest. moments felt like hours as you waited for his reply even as you were glancing over to him across the room. finally, your phone buzzed again.

joshuji 🐰:

[02:53 AM] yeah that would be nice. also, i really miss you. if its not too late, could you come pick me up?

you smiled as you read his message, the tension that had been building inside of you for so long finally releasing.

“hey handsome,” you said as you walked up to him, “you ready to go?” you don't think you've smiled this big in such a long time. “y/n! I missed you.” he said happily as he pulled you in closer for a hug, not caring that he was still sitting and you were standing. his head rested comfortably just below your chest as your hands come up, one against his cheek and the other patting his head gently as you played with his hair.

“you all good?” you asked yet again, “never been better. it feels so nice being so close to you. you're so warm.” he answers as he holds you impossible tighter. “come on, let's get you home, hm?”

“just 5 more minutes. let's just stay like this for 5 more minutes. I'm too comfortable. & I like having you close to me like this.” you wonder if this is him letting his feelings slip but you dont question it. despite the room full of people, you don't seem to notice anyone else & neither does he. “me too joshua, I like having you close to me like this.”

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Waffles for breakfast

Pairing/AU: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak so flour is safe in this one lol

Words counts: 1141

Rating: +16? (just a little tiny smut 👀)

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina, no other description is given, established relationship, a huge amount of fluff, mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v (do better irl!), joel cooks (i feel like this needs its own tag 😂)

A/N: another thing I wrote a year ago, revised and corrected. I hope there are no mistakes but if there are please, forgive me.

Enjoy the Sunday fluff my lovely friends, hope you’ll like it and you’ll have a really nice day♥️

Tagging: @baronessvonglitter , @aurorawritestoescape, @milla-frenchy and @bean-is-reading just to say thanks for your encouragement, kindness and support, you all are great and deserve the world 😭♥️

Thanks to anyone who reads this!

“Joel”

“What”

“Leave it alone, there's no need for you to do it”

“I’m doing great!”

“Okay”

You are observing a batter that is too liquid and full of lumps.

Joel got into his head to prepare breakfast this morning, perhaps because last night you ironically commented on his total inability to cook something vaguely edible.

“Let me finish, you'll see you'll like them”

He got into his head to make you waffles.

Him.

The one who burns everything he tries to cook, the one who holds a neat pile of takeaway flyers near the phone.

His idea of fine cuisine is fried chicken wings or pepperoni pizza with olives.  

You tried to make him forget that he promised you, you tried very hard.

This morning you woke up first, slipped over to his side of the bed and hugged him, clinging to his back and encircling his waist with one arm.

You intertwined your legs with his to get as close as possible and slid your hand under his shirt caressing his tummy, leaving little kisses on his wide back through the shirt. 

Your hand made its way into his boxers to reach his sex and you gently stroked it until you felt it get hard.

He made a grunt as he woke up and put his big hand on yours, continuing to massage. 

You surrounded the base with your fingers, slowly going up to the tip, stroking his cock.

Slowly.

He made a deep, hoarse moan. 

He turned to look at you and held you close, lowered a hand on your sex and massaged you in turn.

You took back his shaft in your hand and you both continued like this, caressing each other, looking at each other smiling, until everything became too hot and blurry.

You undressed in an instant, throwing everything on the floor.

You rode him the way he likes it, your hands resting on his broad chest while he held you firmly by your hips. He always says he loves seeing you like this and he loves your tits bounce before his eyes.

You lay on him exhausted, totally satisfied, he hugged you tightly.

“God baby, you're amazing”

He kept you like this for what seemed like an endless time and anyway you wish it never ended.

He kissed your forehead and nose and whispered “well, good morning I guess”.

You giggled then kissed that little patch in his beard that you adore “Good morning, Joel”.

You thought he'd forget by then and never get up.

Joel, however, is a man who keeps his promises.

He is a stubborn man, above all, when he gets something in his head, nothing stops him. Whether it's small or big doesn't matter.

And he would do anything when he cares about a person.

He got up and you saw him disappear in the bathroom.

 You wanted to follow to continue distracting him but you knew that it would be useless anyway so you decided to enjoy the warmth of the bed for a while longer, wrapped in his scent on the sheets and pillow.

You heard the shower water flowing and after a few minutes he came out with a towel around his waist, a few drops of water still on his skin, chest, shoulders, wet hair pulled back.

A breathtaking view.

You would have liked to drag him back to bed but he headed to the closet, pulled out a clean t-shirt, boxer briefs and a pair of sweatpants.

He got dressed and said, “stay in bed, babe, I'll make you breakfast” with a smile so sweet and enthusiastic that it melted your heart.

 You didn't have the courage to say no to him, and now you're here, watching him energetically turn a spoon into the bowl and try to remove the lumps from a too liquid blob. You wonder how he was able to make it liquid but at the same time lumpy.

You smile, looking at how he's trying.

“Joel, please. There are frozen pancakes in the freezer.”

“Absolutely not, it's Sunday, I won't let you eat frozen stuff”

And you laugh thinking that he would like to give you that thing that he is furiously stirring instead.

It looks like glue.

You stop protesting, because you see how tenderly he looks at you, you see how convinced he is as he pulls out the waffle iron and lets it warm up.

In the meantime, the batter has thickened a bit but it remains full of lumps.

You offer to set the table, but he doesn't want you to do that either.

“Today you have to relax, I'll take care of you”

You stay on your stool, with your elbows leaning against the island counter looking at him and remaining silent, enjoying the sight of his arms delightfully embraced by his t-shirt.

He puts two placemats on the counter, two plates, cutlery and glasses. 

He takes the orange juice out of the fridge.

Pour a little batter on the iron, close and wait with a satisfied smile.

What he puts on your plate it’s the ugliest waffle you've ever seen but you don't have the heart to tell him.

Not when he seems so proud and convinced of his work.

After all, what does it cost you to taste?

You hope you won't need to call 911.

You chew slowly, tasting a strange flavor, but you don't say anything.

He looks at you in expectation.

“So, how is it?”

“Good” you try to say, but you don't know how to swallow the bite.

It's weird, gummy, incredibly salty.

You keep chewing while he takes a bite too.

He chews for a few seconds and then roll his eyes and bend over the sink spitting.

“My God it’s horrible! Don't eat it!”

At his surrender, you can no longer resist and you also spit in the sink and then turn on the garbage disposal hoping that that horrible thing will disappear forever.

 You laugh, you laugh so much that tears come to your eyes while he looks so sorry.

“I think I put salt instead of sugar in it” he murmurs.

You keep laughing, as you approach to hug him “how much did you put in, a whole jar?”

“Fuck” he rolls his eyes, looking frustrated.

“Babe, it doesn't matter, really”

You squeeze him as much as you can, he put his chin on your shoulder “I’m sorry, I wanted to do something nice”

“Don't worry, you tried” you stroke the back of his neck trying to comfort him “I appreciate it anyway”

His strong arms surround your waist and you wouldn't want to change him with anything in the world.

You look him in the eyes “I love you”

“Damn I guess that's true, considering the crap I just made”

And he laughs too, finally relaxed.

“I love you too”

And he kisses you.

After all, breakfast is not that important.

[poetry-protest-pornography]

Joke, The Fool: The Fool represents taking risks based on your instincts and intuition, improvisation, and trusting the universe and believing in the future.

Joke is quick on his feet, great at getting out of tight spots and changing gears on the fly, and the future he wants is Jack's future. He wants Jack to be free more than anything.

But also, in the closet, he got a little flicker of hope for his own wished-for future, and he held onto that and trusted his friends, and also the unexpected assist from Nada, and it got him home to Jack, where it all paid off.

Tattoo, The World: Upright, The World is assured success, recompense, and major change.

Tattoo spent a lot of time thinking about his place in the world, the value of his work, and his relationships with others this episode. He called Jack their collective big brother, he was feeding and helping Toi Tin, he has let Arun into his life and inner thoughts (and personal space).

And he stays the course instead of rushing off to rescue Joke -- trusting his friends -- and helped to see the plan through successfully.

Arun, The Moon: The Moon is all about being cautious and trusting your instincts, and, also about things not necessarily being what they seem -- such as a truth you can't admit to yourself.

We saw Arun spiral a little, devaluing his work and his ideas (even while he crocheted that adorable hat for Jack's birthday), questioning his place in the world (with The World/Tattoo, maybe?) how he could matter to his dad again, and at the heist, remembering the layout of Rosé's house incorrectly and panicking, worrying he's messed everything up, but letting his friends talk him back down.

And then he's the one that keeps Tattoo from running off.

Then, there's The Moment In The Car. Where Arun lets himself lean into Tattoo and celebrate and enjoy being wrapped around him, and then pulls away when he realizes what he's doing. So here's the thing Arun isn't ready to about to himself, and isn't ready to trust is real and not just an illusion.

Hoy, The Star: The Star brings inspiration and hope, and optimism for the future.

Hoy had always been the most optimistic of the bunch. He loves his friends, and even though he was complaining and threatening to leave this whole time, he stays, encouraging his friends and choosing the right switch and driving them all away safely.

But most importantly, he brought them all together with these cards, and he saw how they were all connected, and he knew the right symbol to use to unlock the security on the ring.

Hoy connected the dots, and Hoy was the one that Joke was ready to trust if everything went pear-shaped.

I love them.

[vrstual]

# synopsis: Kim Y/n was "forced" by her parents to intend a school trip so she could make new friends. Being alone, she was obliged to sit next to Yu Jimin, one of the most popular girl in school...

# content: kinda angst, fluff, wlw, cursing. (This is very long...!)

— masterlist !

“Dad, please, I don’t want to go.” Kim Y/n whined, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and anxiety as she stood by the family car.

Her parents were already there, her suitcase in her father hands, the black wheels sinking slightly into the gravel driveway in front of Y/n's school.

“Y/n, we’ve talked about this… this trip is perfect for you to make new friends!” Mr. Kim exclaimed with enthusiasm, his hands animated as he gestured toward the car.

She glanced at the bus, its white exterior, and saw students already in groups, laughing and chatting, ready to have the best time of their lives. They looked so carefree, so sure of themselves, while she was panicking inside. Y/n felt the familiar sting of envy as she watched them, she had always wondered ever since she was a child what was wrong with her for her to be so alone.

“Look at them." She murmured, shaking her head slightly. “I’m never going to fit in.”

Her heart raced as she mentally replayed the last few months: the awkward moments at school, the feeling of being on the outside of friend groups, and the endless worry about not being cool enough or fun enough. What if this trip was just another reminder of how alone she felt?

“And, it’s not like I’m going to magically find friends in a week." Y/n continued, her voice tinged with exasperation.

“Hey, it’s going to be fine." Mr Kim tried to rassure his daughter noticing her gaze drifting towards the bus. “There will be tones of activities that will force you to talk to others! You won't be alone!"

Taking a deep breath, she tore her gaze away from the bus, forcing herself to focus on her parents instead. The looks on their face were full of hopes, she knew that they only wanted to fit in, to be less lonely.

She knew they wanted Y/n to be less like herself in a way, less shy and friendless.

“Fine, I’ll go.” She simply said, her tone firm but lacking enthusiasm, as she took her suitcase back from her father.

“That’s the spirit! And remember, it’s just a week. You can do this.” Mr. Kim smiled broadly, relief flooding his features.

With a deep breath, she hoisted the suitcase up, its worn wheels scraping slightly against the pavement as she moved toward the bus.

Her parents exchanged relieved glances, a silent conversation passing between them. They wanted this to be a good experience for her, to open doors to new friendships and adventures, but she felt trapped in a whirlwind of doubt. As she walked, her mind raced with thoughts of how this trip would unfold.

The chatter from the other students grew louder as they began to board the bus, their voices bubbling with excitement. Y/n’s heart sank as she imagined them effortlessly forming bonds while she struggled to find her place.

She glanced back at her parents one last time before putting her suitcase inside the bus, feeling a swell of mixed emotions. Their encouraging smiles and reassuring nods felt like lifelines, but she also sensed their hopes resting on her shoulders. Y/n wanted to be the first to enter, hoping that by doing so, she could claim a seat without having to force someone to accept her next to them.

With a quick inhale, she stepped up the narrow bus stairs, the metal cold beneath her fingertips as she gripped the handrail. The interior of the bus buzzed with excitement, laughter ringing out from groups of friends already settling into their seats. She felt a pang of longing for that easy camaraderie, but she pushed the thought aside.

As she moved further in, she scanned the rows of seats, searching for a spot where she could sit alone or next to someone that seemed kind.

While the idea of being alone among so many people made her stomach turn, she kept reminding herself that this was an opportunity, chance to break out of her shell, even if she felt like a fish out of water.

“Just find a seat." She muttered to herself, trying to somehow reassure herself.

“Excuse me…?” Mr. Park, her English teacher and one of the chaperones, called out to her, his brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember her name.

He shifted his weight, glancing at the other students boarding the bus before locking eyes with her, the familiar warmth of his smile reassuring yet slightly flustered.

“Y/n. Kim Y/n." replied, her voice steady despite her nerves.

Mr. Park’s smile widened as if he had indeed recalled her name, the familiarity easing the tension in the air.

“Great to see you, Y/n. Have you found a seat?” he asked hopefully, his eyes scanning the bus filled with students.

The anticipation in his voice made her feel a bit more welcomed in the bustling atmosphere. She shook her head, a hint of uncertainty and anxiety rushed back into her mind. Everyone had found a sit and she was the last one without one.

“How about you sit right here, next to Jimin?” He suggested, gesturing to an empty seat beside a girl with bright red hair.

Mr. Park glanced back at Jimin, who immediately turned her attention away from her friends and looked up at the teacher with a frowned.

Oh no, Y/n thought, her heart sinking as she finally registered who Karina was, the blonde popular girl who usually walked past her in the hallway as if she were nothing more than a piece of trash. Y/n recalled the way Jimin and her friends would laugh together, their voices ringing out like a chorus of exclusion while she stood to the side, feeling invisible.

The memories hit her hard: the way Jimin would toss her hair over her shoulder, glancing at Y/n with an expression of disdain as if she was nothing but an obstacle in her path. Y/n could almost hear the whispers of the other girls, the way they snickered and exchanged knowing looks as they passed. Each encounter had left Y/n feeling smaller, a shadow lingering in the background of Karina’s bright, glamorous world.

A wave of anxiety washed over her. She could already feel the weight of judgment pressing down on her, the familiar fear of being belittled creeping in. The last shred of her confidence wavered, and she hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as her thoughts raced.

“Yeah, sit here.” Jimin said dismissively, turning back to chat with her friends seated in the row just in front of her.

They both glanced back at Karina, eager to continue their conversation, leaving Y/n feeling even more isolated. Y/n remembered their names: Ning Yizhuo and Kim Minjeong. She quickly scanned the bus for the fourth member of their group and spotted Aeri Uchinaga sitting next to a boy, laughing animatedly with him. Aeri seemed completely at ease, likely in one of her talking stages.

As she took her seat by the aisle on the bus, she sighed, feeling the annoyance wash over her.

Y/n hated that spot.

The constant bumping from people moving up and down the aisle, the lack of a window to lean against, and the feeling of being just a bit too exposed.

Meanwhile, Jimin's friend obligated to sit properly in their assigned seats, quickly turned away and began chatting amongst themselves, their laughter and animated whispers forming a bubble of friendship that felt just out of reach.

“What’s your name again?” Jimin asked, her gaze fixed on the other girl with a strange intensity.

It wasn’t exactly unfriendly, but it lacked the warmth of genuine curiosity. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were trying to place the other girl in her mental list of people, but she was too outcast to be in anyway. Y/n felt a bit on edge under her stare, unsure if she was supposed to laugh, answer quickly, or just look away.

“Y/N. Kim Y/N." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper as she kept her eyes down, focusing on her hands as they fidgeted in her lap.

She even didn’t dare look up to meet Jimin's gaze, feeling strangely self-conscious under her scrutiny. The bus hummed around Y/n, filling the silence that followed her response, and she wondered if she’d say anything else or if she’d just keep watching her with that unreadable expression.

As the ride went on, Jimin kept stealing glances at Y/n, trying to gather the courage to speak. Her fingers tapped nervously against her phone, mind racing with thoughts of what to say.

Should I break the silence again? She wondered, shifting slightly in her seat. Every few seconds, she looked over, only to turn away quickly when Y/n’s eyes drifted in her direction.

"Do you know Tyler, The Creator? He released an album a while ago, it's pretty good." Jimin’s voice cut through the silence, almost tentative, but carrying an edge of curiosity.

"Yeah... I know him, his music is great." Y/n blinked, momentarily taken aback by the question, but quickly caught on. "But I haven't listened to the new album." Y/n continued.

Jimin’s earlier annoyance seemed to dissolve, her features softening as she fished out an AirPod and, without a word, held it out to Y/n. Y/n hesitated for a moment, surprised, but then took the AirPod from Jimin’s outstretched hand, her fingers brushing against hers for a split second. Jimin quickly looked down, pretending not to notice, as she scrolled through her phone and tapped the album.

The first notes of the song began to play, the beat filling the silence between them. As each track flowed into the next, they both seemed to relax, caught in the same rhythm, lost in the same lyrics. Jimin didn’t say anything, but every so often, she’d sneak a glance at Y/n.

In the quiet intimacy of shared sound, the world around them faded, and for the first time, the silence felt comfortable like a language only the two of them understood.

—

“So… how was the ride?” Giselle’s voice broke the spell, her tone light and teasing as she appeared behind Jimin, arms crossed and a smirk dancing on her lips.

Jimin startled slightly, pulling out her suitcase as she turned to face Giselle, her eyes meeting the pink haired girl's.

"It was fine." She answered unbothered, earning Giselle to raised an eyebrow.

“‘Just fine?’” Giselle scoffed, hurrying to catch up with Jimin, who had already started to walk away toward class, clearly eager to escape the conversation. “Bro, this girl fell asleep on your shoulder, and you let her! When it’s me, you always pinch me awake the second I drift off.”

Jimin stopped mid-step, rolling her eyes as she turned back to give Giselle an exasperated look.

“Oh, I’m just saying." Giselle continued, leaning in conspiratorially. “The two of you, sharing music, all cozy and quiet… It’s cute.”

“Fuck off, Gi. Stop trying to ‘gay-ize’ me I have a boyfriend." Jimin shot back, her expression firm, as she folded her arms across her chest, clearly hoping to put an end to Giselle’s teasing.

"I am not 'gay-izing' you, you're already bi!" Giselle scoffed, rolling her eyes dramatically.

“Still have a boyfriend, and she’s super nerdy. We have nothing in common, she's the kind of people we walk on." Jimin muttered under her breath, giving Giselle a pointed look.

Giselle just smirked, unfazed, but Jimin wasn’t paying her any more attention. Her gaze had drifted back to Y/n, who was standing alone a few feet away, glancing anxiously at the crowd of students. She looked a little out of place, fiddling with her bag strap as if it might anchor her, a hand holding tightly her white suitcase.

Without realizing it, Jimin’s expression softened. It felt weird, she almost felt bad for the girl. Giselle raised an eyebrow again, noticing where Jimin’s attention had landed again.

"What is her name again?" Giselle only smiled before talking.

“Y/n or something, why?” Jimin asked, turning her head back toward Giselle, who was already striding toward Y/n with an air of confidence.

“Hey, Y/n!” Giselle called out, her tone friendly and casual. “What are you doing standing here all by yourself? We’re just about to head to the reception to get our rooms.”

Jimin’s eyes widened, and she took a step forward, her instinct to intervene kicking in.

“Giselle, wait! I don’t think—” The blonde tried to stop, but Giselle has already gotten Y/n 's attention.

Y/n felt a surge of nervousness coursing through her veins. Although she had grown a bit comfortable around Jimin over the ride, that didn’t mean she was ready for an actual conversation with her, especially not in the presence of one of her best friends.

She could feel her heart racing, her palms becoming clammy as she thought about how she might stumble over her words. The cold air of winter felt stifling, and she played with her fingers, trying to focus on the comforting sound of footsteps on snow that other around were making.

Scared, she felt beyond scared.

It had to be some kind of cruel joke for them to actually be interested in her, how could anyone be genuinely drawn to someone as invisible as Y/n?

She often felt like a shadow, blending into the background while others shone in the spotlight. The idea that someone could see her, really see her, felt utterly surreal. Was it possible they were just playing a game, testing the limits of her self-doubt? The thought made her stomach twist in knots, a mix of disbelief and a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as invisible as she believed.

But no, Giselle and Jimin couldn't actually be interested in getting to know Y/n.

She pushed her thoughts aside and smiled nervously, though her nose burned from the biting winter air. And she wished she had remembered to pull her scarf out of her suitcase before leaving. The cold wrapped around her like a relentless chill, and she rubbed her hands together, trying to summon warmth.

“Do you have roommates, or are you alone?” Giselle asked politely, her genuine smile lighting up her face.

She leaned slightly closer, her curious eyes sparkling with interest. Y/n could sense Giselle’s friendliness, which made her feel a little less out of place. But it was weird, considering how Giselle could look from outside, how scary she could get by just smiling at you in the hallway.

Or maybe it was just Y/n, maybe she just portrayed them as bad person because she was scared.

“Obviously, she’s alone. She had no choice but to sit next to me for the ride,” Jimin explained coldly, her gaze fixed on Y/n.

There was no warmth in her voice, just a hint of annoyance that made Y/n’s stomach churn. The embarrassment washed over her, and she wondered if Jimin saw her as a burden. The winter air felt even colder now, and Y/n shifted uncomfortably, feeling more isolated in the moment.

Giselle frowned at Jimin before gently nudging her shoulder, Jimin merely scoffed as she crossed her arms. The blonde girl leaned back against the but slightly her expression remaining indifferent. The contrast between Giselle’s warm smile and Jimin’s cool demeanor was striking, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel caught in the middle.

“Don’t mind her, she’s always that straightforward." Giselle chuckled, waving a hand dismissively in Jimin’s direction. “I already have a roommate, but Jimin doesn’t. How about you two share a room?”

"You have a roommate? You haven't told me." Jimin’s eyes widened at Giselle’s statement, surprise flickering across her face.

Meanwhile, Y/n stayed frozen, unsure of how to respond. The suggestion sent a rush of apprehension through her, but it was quickly overshadowed by her insecurities.

Would Jimin even want to share a room with her? The thought made her heart race.

Jimin’s cold demeanor lingered in the back of her mind, leaving Y/n feeling vulnerable as she awaited Jimin’s response. The blonde girl simply got closer to Y/n before she opened her mouth.

"Looks like you're stuck with me, Y/n."

—

The trip was almost over, they should go by the next morning and ever since the first day Giselle had been relentless in her invitations for Y/n to join her and the others. Y/n finally met Minjeong and Yizhuo, who were just as sweet as Giselle but somehow different.

The girls and Y/n were seated in a cozy café, the warm ambiance wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. They sipped on steaming mugs of hot chocolate, topped with fluffy whipped cream, while the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air.

“Hey, baby.” Y/n heard a voice behind her, and as the other girls turned around, she caught sight of Heeseung, Jimin’s boyfriend.

Y/n felt a flutter of nerves as he approached, his presence radiating confidence. The way he interacted with the girls made her feel a bit out of place; he greeted them with playful hugs and friendly nudges, instantly putting everyone at ease. Jimin, who had been sitting with her arms crossed, softened at the sight of him, a small smile breaking through her earlier aloofness.

For a moment, Y/n wished she smiled at her like that.

“Are you ready for some fun?” Heeseung asked, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Tonight, you're all invited to a party with my friends and I. We met some dudes and they said to bring anyone we knew." He said as he smiled at Y/n.

For the very first time, she had been invited somewhere, and a genuine smile spread across her face while her eyes were stuck into Heeseung's. She turned her attention to Jimin, but when she glanced at her, she noticed that Jimin’s eyes were icy.

It was different, a stark contrast to how they had been in the days before. The warmth that usually radiated from Jimin seemed to have faded, replaced by an expression that suggested she was deep in thought or perhaps even a bit annoyed.

The atmosphere shifted, becoming more lively as the girls laughed and exchanged eager glances. Expected for Y/n and Jimin who seemed to have a eye battle from how Jimin was staring into her soul.

Perhaps Jimin was jealous of Y/n, but it felt impossible to her. After all, Y/n was nothing compared to Jimin. She couldn’t understand why Jimin would feel that way; surely, she must have been misinterpreting Jimin’s icy demeanor.

Y/n wondered if Jimin thought she had some sort of ulterior motive regarding Heeseung, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Yet, as she caught Jimin’s cold gaze, Y/n felt a knot of anxiety tighten in her stomach. It was frustrating to think that her mere presence could be misread as a threat.

Trying to shake off the uneasy feeling, Y/n focused on the laughter and conversation swirling around her. She reminded herself that she was here to have fun with friends and enjoy this moment, regardless of the tension that lingered between her and Jimin. Still, a part of her longed for Jimin to see her as a friend rather than a rival.

A friend? Was Jimin a friend to Y/n?

The pink-haired girl shot Jimin a glare, clearly frustrated by her cold demeanor. Meanwhile, the blonde girl simply shook her head as she gestured for her boyfriend to sit next to her. Heeseung, ever cheerful, took the invitation and settled into the seat beside her, leaving Jimin positioned awkwardly between Y/n and him.

The atmosphere around them shifted slightly, the laughter of the other girls rising and falling like a wave, but Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that the dynamic had changed. She glanced at Jimin, hoping for a hint of the warmth they had shared earlier, but all she found was that icy gaze still directed toward her, making her wonder if the day would turn out the way she had hoped.

“Oh my god, we should head back before Mr. Park kills us. We have this shitty chocolate factory to visit." Yizhuo declared, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and mock horror.

The mention of the chocolate factory elicited a chorus of groans and laughter from the group, breaking the tension that had settled around the table.As everyone began to gather their things and rise from their seats the girls chatted animatedly as they made their way to the exit, Y/n falling into step beside Heeseung.

“What’s so bad about a chocolate factory?” He asked with a teasing grin, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

Y/n shrugged, feeling a little more at ease.

“It sounds like a lot of fun! I mean, who doesn’t like chocolate?” She replied, hoping to keep the mood light.

Deep inside she was clearly panicking, it was the very first time she ever spoke to this man.

“Hey, how come I’ve never seen you around? I’m Lee Heeseung." He said with a smile, extending his hand toward Y/n for her to shake.

Y/n hesitated for just a moment, caught off guard by his directness, but then she reached out and shook his hand, feeling the strength of his grip.

"I'm Kim Y/n." She answered as their hands touched.

With the cold air hitting them as they stepped outside, the group bundled up, ready for the adventure ahead. Even with the lingering tension, Y/n felt a flicker of hope that the day would turn out better than expected.

They finally reached their teacher, who was waiting near the entrance of the hotel they stayed in, and Y/n could feel a slight shift in the atmosphere. Jimin, walking a step ahead, seemed to purposefully ignore her, her focus solely on their teacher as if Y/n didn’t exist.

Y/n’s heart sank once again at the sight.

Feeling a mix of disappointment and frustration, Y/n forced herself to concentrate on the teacher’s words. The factory was going to be an interesting experience, and she didn’t want to let Jimin’s attitude ruin it for her. With Heeseung still beside her, she tried to push her concerns aside as they walked together toward the chocolate factory.

She could hear the laughter of the other girls ahead, but Jimin was the one she looked at.

—

“Jimin, can we talk?” Y/n asked hesitantly as they both entered their room.

The door closed behind them as Jimin turned to face Y/n, her expression unreadable.

“About what?” Jimin replied coolly, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall.

“I just… I wanted to clear the air,” Y/n said, her voice steadying as she spoke. “You've been acting distant since the café and I don't really understand, is something wrong with me?"

That was such pick me of you, Y/n! She slapped for herself mentally.

Jimin’s gaze softened just a fraction, but her expression remained guarded.

"There's nothing wrong with you. I'm just tired." Jimin replied as she turned to face Y/n completely.

"You're not lying to me?" Y/n took a step closer, trying to bridge the gap.

Jimin paused, her defenses wavering for a moment as she contemplated Y/n’s words. The silence hung in the air, and Y/n held her breath, hoping that Jimin wasn't mad at her.

“I am not lying to you. Just prepare yourself while I'm doing my makeup here; we’re going out in an hour, Heeseung and his friends had invited us, remember?" Jimin stated matter-of-factly, her tone leaving little room for argument.

Y/n nodded as she smiled at the taller girl before heading toward the bathroom. Jimin paused for a moment, glancing over her shoulder.

After a moment of silence, Y/n finally stepped out, and Jimin felt something flutter in her chest at the sight of her. Y/n looked stunning, her outfit perfectly complementing her features and giving off an effortless charm. The soft light from the room illuminated her, making her look warm and inviting, and for a moment, Jimin was taken aback by how pretty she looked.

Jimin’s heart raced unexpectedly, the icy facade she had been maintaining beginning to crack.

“Come on, let’s go.” Jimin said as she turned sharply toward the door, a hint of fluster creeping into her cheeks as she avoided making eye contact with Y/n.

Y/n followed closely behind, sensing the sudden shift in Jimin’s demeanor. As they walked past the other girls, who were laughing and chatting, Y/n felt a knot of confusion twist in her stomach.

"Are you okay?" Y/n frowned, trying to understand what had caused this sudden chill.

“I’m fine." Jimin snapped, perhaps a bit too sharply. Her voice was firm, but Y/n could see the slight tremor in her hands as she adjusted her jacket, a telltale sign of her inner turmoil.

“You sure? You seem… different." She ventured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jimin shot her a glance, her eyes filled with an undercurrent of something deeper, something that hinted at her own frustration.

“I said I’m fine." She repeated, crossing her arms defensively.

Giselle, who had been chatting with the other girls, noticed the scene unfolding between Y/n and Jimin. Her brow furrowed in concern as she watched the tension between them, trying to understand what was going on. Y/n shrugged in response, her shoulders rising helplessly.

Y/n glanced back at Jimin, who was now looking away, her expression stubbornly set.

After a moment they walked on, Y/n felt a growing sense of frustration mingling with her confusion. She had hoped the night would be a chance to strengthen their bond, but instead, it felt like they were drifting further apart.

It was weird, she never had friends and here she was getting all frustrated around of the most popular girl in school.

It felt weird.

It felt even weirder because as soon as they entered the party, Heeseung began shamelessly flirting with Y/n. The vibrant atmosphere of the place was filled with laughter and music, but all Y/n could focus on was Jimin's eyes as Heeseung pulled his easy charm and he leaned in close to her.

"You look great!" He flashed Y/n a dazzling smile as he yelled over the music into her ear.

Jimin’s expression darkened slightly as she stood back, arms crossed, watching the exchange with a glimmer of anger and irritation.

“Thanks, I guess!” Y/n replied over the music, trying to keep her voice light despite the discomfort settling in her stomach.

She glanced at Jimin, she tried to reach for her hand, her arm, anything. Y/n wasn't sure why, but she needed to feel like Jimin was still beside her, still with her. But instead she was met by two dark obs glaring at Heeseung.

As Heeseung leaned closer, his playful teasing and charm only served to heighten Jimin’s apparent anger as she pulled Y/n away from him.

“Heeseung, what the hell?” Jimin snapped at him, her voice cutting through the loud music.

The sudden outburst drew the attention of the girls and Heeseung's friends, and Y/n felt her heart race at the unexpected tension that had just escalated.

Heeseung looked taken aback, his playful demeanor faltering for a moment as he straightened up, clearly surprised by Jimin’s sharp tone.

"What? I was just—” He began, but Jimin interrupted him.

“Just what?” she shot back, her eyes narrowing slightly.

Y/n hated, she hated how Jimin hands were tightly grabbing onto hers in anger because she knew Jimin wasn't holding it in a act of softness. Perhaps she was reaching for comfort as she yelled at her boyfriend.

“I was just trying to make Y/n feel welcome!" Heeseung replied, his voice tinged with confusion, but Jimin didn’t soften.

“Jimin, it’s fine." Y/n interjected, hoping to ease the mounting tension. “Heeseung was just being friendly.”

Jimin glanced at her, and for a brief moment, her icy facade seemed to crack as she saw Y/n’s genuine attempt to defuse the situation. Y/n took a deep breath, feeling caught between them.

It was the very first time this kind of situation ever happened to her, and she wasn't a fan of it at all.

"Let’s just enjoy the night, okay?” One of Heeseung's friend suggested, trying to shift the focus back to the fun atmosphere around them.

Jimin shook her head in frustration, her blonde long hair swaying gently as she turned away from the bustling party. The vibrant music pulsed through the air, laughter and chatter blending into a lively backdrop, but she felt out of place. Y/n and Giselle exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and understanding, before quickening their pace to catch up with her.

“Hey, wait up!” Y/n called, her voice barely rising above the noise, trying to reach for Jimin's hand again.

Jimin spun around, her face flushed with anger, and without thinking, she pushed Y/n away, the force of the shove surprising both of them. Y/n stumbled back, her eyes widening in shock. The lively atmosphere of the party faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the room.

“Fuck you! You've been nothing but a pain in the ass ever since you came into our lives!" She snapped pointing her finger towards Y/n.

“W-what? I was just trying to be friends with you guys, I didn't meant to make you feel that way..?” Y/n glanced at Giselle, who stood nearby, her expression a mix of concern and confusion.

“What? You thought we were friends with you? You're just some nerdy fucker who keeps following us around!” Jimin shot back, her heart racing.

"Jimin!" Giselle moved closer, trying to mediate the escalating tension.

Y/n heart stopped for a moment, it felt weird to have friends. It felt weird because they weren't her friends, they didn't cared about her, at all.

It felt weird to feel appreciated for once.

Y/n couldn’t stop the tears from falling, hot and unrelenting, tracing down her cheeks as she struggled to catch her breath. Each drop felt like a shard of glass, piercing through the layers of her heart. She turned away, unable to face Jimin, the weight of the moment suffocating her. The laughter and music from the party faded into a distant hum, leaving only the raw pain of their confrontation.

Jimin’s eyes widened in shock as she saw the tears streaming down Y/n’s face. The realization hit her like a wave, washing away the anger that had fueled her words. Regret flooded her heart, each pang a reminder of how easily things had spiraled out of control.

"Y/n- I didn't meant to say that-!" But Y/n held up a hand, shaking her head as she struggled to compose herself.

"Y/n, I swear this isn't true we wanted to be friends with you!" Giselle stepped in, her heart aching for both of her friends.

For a moment, Y/n looked torn, the tears still flowing freely as she searched Jimin’s gaze for sincerity. Jimin’s heart raced, praying for forgiveness, hoping that they could find their way back from this painful moment.

"Please, just let me explain,” Jimin continued, her voice trembling but earnest. “I never wanted to hurt you like that I-"

“Drop the act, I get it,” Y/n said coldly, her voice barely above a whisper as she turned away from Jimin, her heart heavy with hurt and disbelief.

She began to walk away and Jimin stood frozen, a surge of desperation welling up inside her.

"No, wait!" She tried to call after her but Y/n stepped out into the dimly lit street, snowflakes began to fall, delicate and silent, blanketing the ground in a soft, white layer.

Jimin watched in anguish as Y/n’s figure slowly disappeared into the darkness, the soft glow of streetlamps illuminating her retreating silhouette. Snow began to accumulate on the ground, each flake a reminder of the fragile state of their friendship. Jimin’s heart raced with regret, the words unspoken hanging heavily in the air between them.

“Y/n, please don’t go!” she shouted, her voice cracking with emotion.

But Y/n didn’t stop; she continued walking, leaving Jimin standing alone in the stillness of the night, surrounded by the falling snow.

"Now, what the fuck, Jimin?" Giselle looked at her disappointed as she started running after Y/n.

It felt weird, weird to feel her heart pounding like that for a nerd.

—

Y/n stepped off the bus as soon as the doors opened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had spent the entire ride next to Giselle, carefully keeping her distance from Jimin, who sat several seats ahead, surrounded by a small group of friends.

The air in the bus had felt thick and suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension that pressed down on her.

As Y/n stepped out the bus, the cool evening air hit her, refreshing yet stark against the storm of emotions swirling inside her. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but all she could think about was the hurt and anger that had driven her away from Jimin.

She wished she could just disappear, to retreat back into the shadows where she felt safe and invisible, like she used to before everything got complicated. The thought of going back to her parents, to the familiarity of home, offered a bittersweet comfort.

She longed for the simplicity of her old life, where there were no confrontations, no emotional turmoil, and certainly no heartache.

Y/n perceived her parents waiting by the car, their expressions a mix of concern and anxiety that tugged at her heart. As she approached, her mother stepped forward, a smile on her face trying to hide her nervousness.

"How was it? Was it great? Have you made new friends?" Her father asked behind her mother.

"Yeah, it was really nice. I made plenty of friends." Y/n nodded, forcing a small smile despite the turmoil inside.

Her parents high fived each other relief rushing over them.

“Let’s get you home! You better tell us everything!” He said, opening the back door of the car and gesturing for her to get in.

As her parents climbed into the front seats, Y/n stared out the window, watching the snowflakes dance against the glass. Each flake seemed to mirror her feelings, delicate yet full of chaos. The streets blurred by in a haze of white, but she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.

She met Jimin eyes who was along Heeseung, she seemed desperate for to talk to her. Y/n only turn her look away as her parents drove away.

—

Y/n had been away for the weekend, visiting relatives, and now that she was back home, a familiar sense of loneliness enveloped her. The quiet house felt oddly empty, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the heater. After the whirlwind of emotions from the party and the fallout with Jimin, she found herself craving a distraction, something to pull her away from the heaviness in her heart.

When Giselle texted her, asking if she wanted to hang out, Y/n jumped at the chance. The prospect of spending time with her friend lifted her spirits, offering a welcome escape from her thoughts. “Of course! I’d love to,” she replied quickly, a sense of anticipation stirring within her.

A little while later, the doorbell rang, and Y/n rushed to answer it.

But instead of seeing Giselle standing by the poarch, she was met by Jimin.

"Oh hell no." Y/' said as she was about to close the door but the blonde girl stopped her.

“I’ve driven around the whole town and got stuck in traffic just for you to hear me out." Jimin breathed out, her voice steady but laced with urgency. "Did you knew your house is at the opposite of my place?"

Y/n felt a mix of surprise and apprehension wash over her. The night air was crisp, and the distant sounds of the bustling town seemed to fade away as she focused on Jimin’s intense expression. The weight of their unresolved conflict hung heavy between them, and Y/n wasn’t sure if she was ready to confront it.

“Please, just give me a chance to explain myself.” Jimin urged, stepping closer, her voice softer now but no less earnest. "Actually, I'm terrible with words and usually they got stuck in my throat. But, you're the best nerd I ever had the chance to meet, you made this week so special and it felt like we were meant to cross paths. But I got scared, I got scared because you're something new, this whole world you have on your own, it's so different than mine."

Y/n took a step back, feeling the turmoil within her bubbling to the surface. She wanted to be angry, to hold onto the hurt, but she also felt a flicker of hope at Jimin’s words.

"And I'm so sorry, for letting you thinking we acted in a act of pure of pity but it wasn't. You're not an act of pity, Y/n." Jimin finally finished, you could see her red cheeks and the way she was moving her hands.

She was nervous, and it was the very first time ever you had seen her in this state.

With the air thick with honesty and vulnerability, Y/n knew they were at a turning point, one that could either mend their friendship or push them further apart. But for the first time in days, she felt the possibility of healing.

“Get in, you’re not even wearing a coat! You’re going to catch a cold." Y/n said, her voice laced with concern as she glanced at Jimin standing outside in the frigid air, shivering slightly.

Jimin hesitated for just a moment, her breath visible in the cold night air, swirling around her like a ghost before she stepped closer. A small, grateful smile broke across her face as she opened the car door and slipped inside, the warmth of the house enveloping her like a comforting embrace.

“Thanks." She murmured, tucking her hands under her thighs to warm them.

—

“Okay, but playing Minecraft at your age is really nerdy of you,” Jimin affirmed, her tone playful as she lay sprawled on Y/n’s bed, propped up on her elbows.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of fairy lights creating a cozy atmosphere, and the faint sounds of the game played from Y/n’s laptop resting on her lap.

"But you've been watching me play for an hour now. I think you like nerdy things." Y/n rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Yeah and that's why I like you, my nerdy bestfriend." Jimin laughed, shaking her head as she watched the other girl's focused expression.

Y/n felt a sting in her heart but she decided to play it cool, still looking at her screen.

“Did I upset you?” Jimin asked, with a soft smile as she watched Y/n’s expression shift.

“No.” Y/n replied, her eyes glistening slightly as she fought to keep her emotions in check.

“Are you sure I didn't upset you by calling you 'my nerdy bestfriend'” Jimin insisted, her tone urgent as she leaned in closer. "Y/n?"

Y/n looked away, staring out the window as the world outside blurred past, lost in thought. Her head filled with a million thoughts.

“You’re not great at hiding your feelings, you know." Jimin remarked with a half-smile, glancing sideways at Y/n.

"What?" Y/n cheeks flushed slightly, and she laughed softly in panick, shaking her head. “What are you talking about?”

Jimin chuckled getting closer to Y/n, her hands touching Y/n cheeks.

“I know you like me.” Jimin teased and Y/n sweared she felt her heart drop in her stomach. "I've tried to talk to you about it, but you're so oblivious it's getting annoying."

"Don't hate me, I swear I don't know how to deal with this kind of things! I didn't meant to feel that way about you, especially since Heeseung and you are getting better–!" She couldn't even finish her rambling, the blonde had already pushed herself onto the younger.

Her lips met Y/n’s, and they felt like sweetsm soft and inviting, like the sugary confections that melted on the tongue. The moment was unexpected yet electrifying, an explosion of warmth that sent a rush of exhilaration through Y/n’s body. It was as if time had slowed, the world around them fading into a distant blur as they surrendered to the sweetness of the kiss.

Y/n was kissing, Yu Jimin. She was kissing someone else girlfriend, but she felt a wave of emotions crashing over her: surprise, joy, and a spark deep within her.

She could taste the remnants of the strawberry lip balm Jimin had worn, a flavor that was both familiar and intoxicating. The kiss lingered, a perfect balance of tenderness and eagerness, as if they were savoring a treasured treat.

"I guess obliviousness goes with the nerd act, doesn't it?" Jimin smiled shyly, a faint blush creeping onto her cheeks.

“Yeah, it does." Y/n agreed, feeling the heat radiate between them. "But what about Heeseung?"

"I broke up with him a while ago, he had clearly a crush on you, just like I have." Jimin laughed again as she caressed Y/n cheek.

A comfortable silence enveloped them, charged with the weight of what had just happened. In that instant, everything felt different—more vibrant, more alive. They both knew this kiss had shifted their friendship into uncharted territory, opening up a world of possibilities neither had dared to imagine before.

“But most importantly, are we okay?” Jimin asked, her eyes searching for Y/n’s, trying to understand what was going on in her head.

“We’re more than okay." Y/n nodded her head multiple times, making Jimin laugh loudly.

As they sat there, the taste of sweetness still lingering between them, Y/n felt a sense of hope and excitement blossom in her chest. They were on the brink of something new, and she was ready to embrace it.

It felt weird being liked by Yu Jimin.

# AN: it's my very first fic so I am sorry if it seems rushed or if it's not as good as it could've been !

[z-moves]

‎‏I am mohammed ayyad of Gazans, living in very difficult conditions because of the war that the Gaza Strip is under. Since the outbreak of the war on the seventh of October we have been evacuating .

‎‏Then the journey of suffering and separation began,because my children were separated and evacuated from our home without covering or clothes., From here they became infected with diseases, and what increased our fatigue was the constant upbringing due to the different areas in which we were displaced, as we were displaced 9 times, and this was very expensive, the last of which was the 9th of this August from Hamad Town. In addition to that, we have lived in the summer season in a tent that did not exceed three meters, closed with nylon, so it is like an agricultural greenhouse atmosphere. It is very hot. All in all, we live difficult days that no human beings can afford

We have no work because of the war, and we do not have any kind of money and this is accompanied by a crazy and horrible rise in prices.

Although water is not suitable for drinking, this is the cause of many diseases

The last suffering is that we are out of Hamad without taking our purposes or our tents and now we are searching the earth in the roads and our children and our elderly parents are suffering..So we use direct donation including what they can or share links fully so people can know our tragedy and pain. Remember a small contribution can make a difference in the lives of many children who are dealing with their health condition all. Leave their details and make them happy with your generous contribution.

hello, Mohammed! i'm sorry to hear about your situation. i hope your children will be able to receive what they need. i will share this for others to see it as well.

€5,975 / €35K

this fundraiser is low on funds, so i encourage people to help!

this fundraiser has been vetted by @/bilal-salah0. [ link to post ]

tags for reach (please let me know if you don't want to get tagged):

@heritageposts @nabulsi @appsa @feluka @timetravellingkitty @rhubarbspring @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @tortiefrancis @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq

[rafesfavouritegirl]

there's super little sub!rafe content on here , so if you're down for that , i'd live to read it

submission⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

summary: rafe has been feeling a little needy lately, and instead of him doing the work in bed, he wants you to be dom!

warnings: smut, sub!rafe

notes: hope you enjoy! it’s a little short unfortunately

you and rafe were lying in bed, rafe laying ontop of you with his head buried against your chest, and you just sitting watching the tv with your hands raking through his hair

rafe shifted, letting out a slight whine as he began to get restless. “what’s wrong, baby?” you asked softly, your eyebrows furrowing in concern as you sat up a bit, making his head lift off your chest

“i don’t know, jus’ restless” he murmured, the vague answer making you wonder. he’d been really clingy and needy lately, and you just didn’t know why. until it clicked in your head that sex had been off the table for a bit, so maybe that’s why

“do you wanna…have sex?” you asked, making his head lift to look at you fully. he seemed hesitant, taking a deep breath before speaking. “uh, yeah. but can we try something?” he asked, his fists clenching nervously at his sides

you narrowed your eyes for minute before nodding, letting him speak again. “can you uh, can you dom me?” he asked softly, looking down slightly as he waited for your answer

you smiled softly, finding it a little funny he’d been so restless just because all we wanted was for you to dom him. “of course, you should’ve told me sooner” you said, making rafe peak up fully

all rafe was doing was whining in response, the boy completely lost in ecstasy as his needs were being being met beyond what he had in mind. you were squeezing him deliciously, praising him so perfectly he thought he was dreaming

“fuck rafe, doing so good” you moaned. your hands gently tousling his hair. you never thought something like this would feel so good for the both of you, but right now, you had never felt better. “that’s it baby, keep whining” you encouraged, causing rafe to whine a little louder

you felt a warmth pool into your stomach, a sign your orgasm was catching up to you. you upped your pace, giving hard and fast bounced as you chased that so needed climax. “gonna cum soon” you warned rafe, gently tugging his hair

“i-im gonna cum too” rafe whimpered, the clench and fluttering of your pussy driving him over the edge. it only took another couple of bounced before rafe came, his warm semen spurting into your womb so pleasantly. you followed along, letting out a whimper yourself as you gave one final bounce

you collapsed onto him, both of you catching your breath after two mind blowing orgasms. “you did so good baby, really happy you suggested that” you said softly, lifting his head up so you could pepper kisses over his flushed face

you lifted yourself off, going to the bathroom and grabbing a cloth to clean you both up. when you came back, rafe was sprawled on the bed, still in a slight haze

you cleaned him up, as well as yourself before crawling into bed beside him, letting him curl up into your side as you both fell into a well needed sleep

[leezlelatch]

I love your writing and style. It's been a hard week and it's made me happy after discovering it. Just wondering if you, if you had the time, could write a slightly smutty drabble. I love your take on protective doll baby Copia. He's perfect.

With the last few months I'd love to read a ficlette where he discovers the reader almost in tears after being torn down by people, told that she's worthless, and now doubting herself because of the complete lack of self esteem which is even worse after this. Copia goes into DarkCopia mode while loving her like the badass he is. He doesn't like it when people hurt his gal. And he makes sure she knows how much worth he sees in her.

Truly though, even if you don't have time...your stuff has made me happy. <3

Hello, my friend. I'm so sorry this week has been hard. I hope it has improved, and I am so happy that my writing has made a difference! Here is a little something for you from me, and Copia. <3

Copia x Reader - hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive, a little smutty, protective Copia, suggestively Dark!Copia.

The old key slipping into the lock rouses you from your light doze, and your eyes feel heavy as you turn over, watching as Copia steps into his quarters, his gaze lowered as he shifts his takeout bag from one hand to the other, depositing the key back into his pocket. He raises his head, and you make eye contact. Two things happen in that moment that makes the hair raise on your arms, and your heart warm with affection at the same time. Copia takes in the sight of you, curled up like a burrito in his blanket, your nose tucked into the fabric, eyes red. He knows it’s because you’re trying to find comfort in his scent. He knows you, in and out. His expression freezes in a ghastly stare, his eyes narrowed, lips set in a deep frown which accentuates the wrinkles around his mouth. His brows are pulled down, and he appears paler than he usually does. In short, he looks ready to hurt someone. 

But then it falls away. Cold fury melting into concern, and he drops his bag at the door, uncaring as the takeout boxes tumble and rest on their sides in his haste to reach you. Gloved hands pull you from the blankets, settling you across his lap, his arms cradling you. His face grows very close to yours, searching your eyes with a certain desperation. Copia is another person when it comes to you. The endearing, funny Papa is gone and replaced by someone who is calculating, smart, one step ahead. The real him. The one he hides, the clergy unaware that the puppet is actually the puppet master. You’re precious to him, and there is nothing this man would not do to keep you happy and safe.

“Baby,” he says very softly, his accent curling around the endearment. “Tell Papa what happened, eh?” His thumb rubs beneath your eye. “What are the tears for?”

“I had a hard day,” you respond, your voice a little hoarse. His brow furrows, and one of his hands slides its way down your body, feeling, prodding gently, as if he were checking for some external injury. “I’m okay, Copia.”

“Okay is not finding il mio amore all wrapped up and crying.” He works at removing a glove, slipping each finger out of the leather. He flexes his hand once it’s removed, and it makes you smile, even if just a little. Copia said to you before that he was used to it, but you know the constricting leather became a little much after a long day. 

“Somebody said something to me today,” you murmur, taking his hand and holding it to your face. His fingers cradle your jaw, the warmth of his skin encouraging you to speak. “And I feel like I just…can’t do right. That I’m not right. I can’t even face myself in the mirror because I’m afraid of what I’ll see.” You pause, gathering your thoughts. “I’m afraid to see that they’re right.”

Copia sucks in a shaky breath when you finish, and you can already see his mind working. “My love, I don’t want you going after anyone,” you say, reaching to grasp his chin, squeezing it gently. “I’m not telling you this to make you angry.”

He stares down at you, and then he nods slowly. Copia shifts back onto the bed so his back is against the wall and he adjusts his hold on you, looking thoughtful as his fingers pick up a soothing rhythm against your cheek. “There are a few things I need to be correcting, amore. And I need you to be good for your Papa, and listen. I will never allow a single soul in this building or elsewhere to hurt you. That goes for all our Siblings, but you are not just a Sibling, sì? You are my amore. Also,” he clicks his tongue. “The peoples are wrong. They will learn that they are wrong. And you, vita mia, also need to be corrected.”

You’re listening intently, your eyes trained on his features, adoring how expressive his features are when he speaks, but his last words make you pause. “I have to be corrected?” That was the last thing you expected to hear. 

“Yes,” Copia says, drawing out the word, his expression set. You’re bewildered when he doesn’t elaborate, letting out a sound of surprise as he firmly guides you up and out of the bed. 

“Copia, no-,” you begin to protest as he approaches the full length mirror near his dresser, your hand tightly wrapped in his grip. Copia pins you with a look that shuts your mouth, and he takes you by the shoulders, setting you directly in the reflection of the mirror. 

“We shall start here,” he says, his fingers tapping beneath your chin. “You will watch, and listen.” Copia circles you like a vulture, his hands clasped behind his back. “When you smile, I want to smile too.” His voice has lowered, tender and affectionate. “I am not so proud of my teeth, but I would smile ear to ear just to match your joy. That is healing for me, amore. You do that.”

Fingers brush your cheek. “You blush at the sight of me. At the sight of me. So beautiful and sweet, and I am sure that I have seen the depths of paradise. And the way your eyes light up when you’re excited, oh…,” he laughs softly to himself, his voice almost a coo. “Do you realize how lucky I am to know your eyes? To watch your brow furrow or rise. To see emotion pass over your face. To read the story of your life through every blemish and line.”

Your breath is stolen from your lungs, and you’re already crying. Copia’s hands shake as they grasp your hips, standing now close behind you, his voice a gentle whisper in your ear. His breath makes you shiver, and you feel his hips shift against your backside. “You’re biased,” you whisper, and he laughs.

“I am very proud of this, amore. It is a gift to be biased,” he murmurs, his eyes catching yours in the mirror. “It is a gift to have you.” His hands slip beneath your shirt, grasping and kneading at soft skin. You make a breathless noise, leaning back against him, and Copia almost purrs. “Hmm, you are liking your Papa’s touches?”

They slip higher, fingers grazing your nipples, and he pauses there. You whimper, caught between your emotions and your arousal, and Copia knows how to play you like the finest instrument. When to touch, and when to pause, letting it all wash over you, giving you the time you need to feel safe in his arms. “Your body,” he says, pressing his hips firmly into the curve of your ass. “Ignites a fire inside of me, you know? I am incomplete when I am not joined with you.” He’s almost growling now, a rough edge to his voice. 

You’re spun around in his arms and he captures your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue thoroughly plundering your mouth and rendering you incapable of any thought. Copia has a talent at making you forget, and suddenly the cruel words from today have all but vanished from your mind. “I love you,” he hisses, nipping at your bottom lip. His hand grasps your chin, raising your eyes to his, and his tone softens. “I love you.”

He kisses you softly now, his lips curling into a smile. “You are worth everything. You don’t need to look into the mirror, amore, just look into my eyes. I see you. I see the glory in you. And you will always have a home with me. You are safe with me.”

Another tear falls down your cheek and he kisses it away. “I love you, too,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his. Your hand slips beneath the waistband of his trousers, and he gasps, arching into your touch.

“Do not think,” he murmurs, his voice a little strained as he pushes you toward the bed. “That this does not mean they will be…removed. Papa protects what is his.”

[winwintea]

what wayv seeks in a relationship

GROUP ↬ ot6 wayv

WARNINGS ↬ none, pure fluff <33 maybe some angst

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ i did the wayv version !!! the dream one blew up and i'll be doing a 127 one soon, but i thought i'd post this in the meantime as well. although wayv is my ult group i feel like i struggle more with finding out their exact personalities and what they like. i hope this is sufficient enough for you all though <33

Qian Kun

kun doesn't believe in taking things lightly. he wants to make sure he's found the right partner before letting himself fall in love. he values a partner that finds traditional values important. someone who will always be there for him, not just when it's convenient. kun prefers someone who is grounded in reality rather than overly idealistic. he also needs a partner who makes him feel appreciated and understood. a partner who is easy-going is also a good balance to his more responsible nature, might also work well with him. someone that might encourage him to take risks and will be there to pick him up if he falls.

Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul

ten places a lot of importance on establishing meaningful relationships. although he may not act like it, he's generally more reserved so he does appreciate a deeper connection. ten likes someone who will challenge him intellectually and is suited towards a partner that is open-minded and willing to explore new things. he's attracted to people who have something unique to offer in this life. ten values personal growth, so he would appreciate someone who is supportive of his journey towards self-actualization. sometimes it's difficult for ten to relax and enjoy the current moment, so he appreciates a partner that will help him find peace and serenity.

Dong SiCheng

winwin believes that a relationship isn't a passive commitment, but it's a way for both partners to learn, grow and develop as time passes on. he wants a partner who will understand his uniqueness and individualism. they must also really understand his sensitive side and the nuances of his personality. winwin appreciates a partner that will look out for him and make sure he feels heard. he may come off as aloof at times, but deep down winwin is a whirlwind of emotions, so he needs a partner that won't be overwhelmed by these intense emotions. since winwin is a free-spirit he values open-mindedness and independence in a partner.

Xiao DeJun

xiaojun strives to connect to people in meaningful ways. he wants to find someone who he can completely devote himself to, who also accepted him as he is and who respects his freedom. xiaojun also needs a partner who understands his sensitive nature. he is also attracted to someone who has a unique way of thinking about things. a partner who can provide a sense of stability and security is also something he looks for. he's not necessarily needing someone to meet his level of emotional intensity, but rather a partner who can provide a grounding presence that will make them feel at home. xiaojun is also drawn to those with very complex personalities.

Wong KunHang

hendery seeks constant growth, both individually and relationally. hendery needs a partner who can provide emotional support and understanding, since he often gets caught up in his own thoughts and feelings. he feels like he is often misunderstood by those around him, so one of the most important aspects to him is that his partner understands him. hopefully they understand his constant need for adventure and growth. hendery has a great sense of humor, so he wants a partner who can match his wit and also make him laugh. he doesn't necessarily need someone who matches his energy levels, but someone who encourages him to follow his passions and dreams.

Liu YangYang

yangyang dislikes mind games in a relationship, he wants a relationship that is genuine and honest. he's not averse to casual dating, just not his priority, since he prefers to form meaningful connections with those on the same wavelength as him. he has a low boredom threshold, so he needs a certain level of mental stimulation in order to be content, and someone who can push him outside of the box is good for him. yangyang may also sometimes find it difficult to stay on track so having a partner who can keep him motivated will benefit him in the long run. he also values those who are patient and trustworthy as he hopes his partner will allow him the time and space to open up.

TAGLIST ���  @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @ldh0000 @galacticnct @sharonxdevi

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Sacrifices/BTR Book 2: a Jhea Fanfic.

Chapter 6: I can’t lose.. when I’m with you..

Flashback January 15th, 2025 12:16 PM

Rhea cleared her throat, the air thick with tension as she broke Jey’s eye contact. Jey, sensing her discomfort, gently lifted her chin, urging her to meet his gaze again. “It’s okay,” he reassured her softly.

Taking another deep breath, Rhea began to recount her past, her voice trembling slightly. “It was 2017. I had just turned 21. I was at a bar with Tegan and Liv after practice. We decided to unwind for a bit. He was bartending at the bar up from the Performance Center. He was… older than me. I thought he was cute, and he thought I was too.” Rhea’s voice was distant as she recalled the initial thrill of attraction, her fingers fidgeting nervously.

“Every night after that, I’d go to the bar. I wouldn’t even drink; I’d just sit there, talking to him.” She hesitated, glancing away as memories washed over her. Jey nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“We went out on a few dates, and eventually, we started dating.” Rhea’s smile faded as she remembered the honeymoon phase turning sour. “But then… I got drunk one time and made a stupid pass at his brother. That same night, he beat the fuck out of me.” Her words were quiet but filled with a heavy weight.

Jey’s heart sank at the confession, and he instinctively clenched his fists, his protective instincts flaring. “Why didn’t you leave him?” he asked gently, desperate to understand her mindset.

Rhea’s gaze dropped to her lap, and she swallowed hard. “It was my fault,” she murmured, a familiar shame creeping into her voice. Jey felt a surge of anger—not at her, but at the circumstances that had led her to believe that.

“Go on,” he urged, wanting her to feel safe to share everything.

Rhea took a moment, collecting her thoughts. “After a while, Tegan and Liv got tired of telling me to leave him. They stopped asking how I was doing.” She paused, the memories weighing heavily on her heart. “One night… after everything, he pushed me to my limit.”

“How?” Jey pressed, his voice a mixture of concern and disbelief.

Rhea swallowed again, her fingers trembling as she looked down. “I woke up one morning.. sore and in bed with three different guys. My panties were off. There was … it.. it was in me… I-“ Her voice broke, and tears pooled in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks.

Overwhelmed by the rawness of her pain, Rhea stood up abruptly, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “Fuck! Why do you have to make me relive this shit?” she yelled, her emotions boiling over.

“Hey!” Jey said, his voice firm but gentle. “Stop. It’s okay.” He rose to his feet, stepping closer to her, trying to bridge the gap that had formed. “You don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here. You’re safe now.”

Rhea felt a rush of conflicting emotions—anger, sadness, and the flickering hope that maybe, just maybe, she could finally let someone in. But the weight of her past still loomed large, and she wasn’t sure if she could fully trust again. Jey’s unwavering presence, however, began to melt away some of the barriers she had built around herself.

“Just breathe,” he said softly, reaching out to wipe away her tears with his thumb. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

As she looked into his eyes, she saw sincerity and compassion, and for the first time in a long time, Rhea felt the glimmer of hope that she might find a way to heal.

Rhea sat back down, the weight of her past still heavy on her shoulders. Jey instinctively rubbed her back, his touch gentle and reassuring. After a moment of silence, Rhea managed to collect herself enough to continue her story.

“I confronted him,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And he hit me. He just… he kept hitting me.” The memories rushed back, vivid and painful. “He pulled me by my hair and said I was going to keep doing what he needed me to do, so I…”

Jey leaned in closer, his heart racing as he sensed her hesitation. “Rhea, you can tell me. Whatever it is, I’m right here,” he urged gently, his eyes locked onto hers, willing her to open up.

But Rhea stayed silent, her gaze dropping to her trembling hands. The fear of reliving that moment held her captive, and despite Jey’s comforting presence, the past clawed at her.

She took a deep breath, the air thick with unspoken words, and finally whispered, “So I… saw his knife on the TV stand and I quickly grabbed it and stabbed him in the neck. The Terrible Awful happened. ”

Jey was stunned at what Rhea had just revealed. The weight of her words hung heavily between them as she referred to the horrific experience as “the terrible awful.” He struggled to find his voice, his heart aching for her. “What did the cops say?” he asked, desperate to understand the full extent of her ordeal.

Rhea swallowed hard. “It was ruled self-defense,” she replied, her eyes downcast. “One of the guys called 911 when everything was happening.” The realization of how close she had come to losing everything settled like a stone in Jey’s stomach.

Overwhelmed by the information, Jey leaned back in his chair, trying to process it all. “So, I take it Demetri is where he’s supposed to be?” he asked cautiously.

Rhea nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Chapel Hill Cemetery, Space 827.”

“And what about Matt?” Jey pressed, feeling the need to know more about the man who had been a part of her life after the nightmare.

Rhea sighed, her expression shifting to one of deep contemplation. “We met two months after the attack,” she admitted, her tone heavy with emotion.

Jey paused, searching her face for any signs of lingering pain. “Rhea, did you truly process everything?” he asked, genuinely concerned for her well-being.

She sighed again, the weight of her past pressing down on her. “Matt was my escape… just like you.”

Jey stopped short, the word “escape” reverberating in his mind. It was a word that felt loaded with implications, and he felt a chill run through him. The thought of being someone’s escape was both a privilege and a burden.

“Escape,” Jey repeated softly, looking into Rhea’s eyes. “Rhea, I want to be here for you. But I need to know… do you see me as a way to run from your past, or as someone who can help you heal?”

Rhea opened her mouth to respond but hesitated, uncertainty flickering across her features. She was caught between her past experiences and the present warmth she felt with Jey. The tension in the room grew stronger as Jey waited for her answer, his heart racing, fearing what she might say next.

The tension between them was thickening the air in the room as they stood in silence. Jey’s gaze was intense, unwavering, his voice low but firm as he asked her once more, the question heavy with a sense of finality.

“Rhea… really think about it. Am I just your escape?”

Rhea swallowed hard, feeling her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to reach for him, to close the gap that suddenly felt miles wide, but he took a small step back, leaving her hand suspended in the air. His movement felt like a stab to her heart, a rejection of her touch that only heightened the ache building within her.

“What we have… it’s real,” she said, her voice soft, pleading almost. But the words felt fragile, like they could shatter under the weight of everything unsaid between them.

Jey’s jaw clenched, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn’t speak right away, giving her a moment to let her words sink in. But he wasn’t letting this go. He pointed to the framed photo by the wall, the one of them with Jeyce and Jaciyah, the photo that represented the life they were building together, the family they had become. It was ready to be packed and taken to their new home in Connecticut, a tangible symbol of the future they were trying to create.

“This… what you say right now affects all of us. Our family,” he emphasized, the words carrying a weight that was almost suffocating. He then pointed gently to her belly, his gaze softening just slightly. “And our child… is in there. Whatever you say… it affects everything, Rhea. Right now.”

Rhea’s breath hitched, her heart rate picking up as the pressure of his words settled on her. She could feel the walls closing in, the intensity of his gaze demanding an answer, an honesty that went beyond any fleeting comfort or convenience.

“Rhea,” he said, his voice softer but no less intense, “Am I just your escape?”

Rhea felt a surge of frustration, the words bubbling up before she could contain them. “Who am I with, huh?” she challenged, her voice growing louder, more desperate. “Who the fuck am I standing here with? Huh? Who the fuck am I pregnant by? Who the fuck is feeding my animals every morning, huh?” Her voice was breaking, each question spilling out like a dam bursting. “Who is pushing me to be stronger?!”

She pushed him, the force of her emotions behind it, as she demanded, “Who the fuck is here with me right fucking now?!”

Jey took a step back, his own anger simmering beneath the surface, his voice rising to meet hers. “So that’s it, huh? I was just your fix all along?”

Rhea rolled her eyes, her frustration boiling over. “Oh, really? That’s where you wanna go with this, Jey?”

“Yeah,” he shot back, his voice harsh and accusatory, “I’m going there, Rhea. Your fix? Like I was just some damn drug to you?”

Rhea’s eyes flashed with anger, her fists clenched tightly. “Yes, my fucking fix, Jey! Because that’s what we were doing, right? Night after night, every damn night. And who was the genius who never used a condom, huh? It sure as hell wasn’t me!”

Jey scoffed, rolling his eyes as the frustration boiled over. “Oh, so now you’re throwing that back at me? Ms. ‘I’ll just take a Plan B in the morning’!”

Their voices echoed in the room, the argument spiraling into a place neither of them intended, raw emotions spilling out like wounds reopened and left untreated.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be, and yet here they were, standing at the edge, unsure of where this confrontation would leave them.

Rhea’s voice rang out, defiant and sharp, slicing through the tension like a knife. “Who was the one who said it was more than what it was supposed to be?”

Jey’s eyes flashed with an intensity that mirrored her own. The argument had escalated to heights they had never reached before, and yet neither was willing to back down. “Well, who was the one that showed up at my fucking hotel room in some lingerie?” he shot back, his tone laced with anger, each word dripping with the weight of betrayal.

Rhea froze, her breath hitching. “Fuck off,” she spat, turning away, but Jey wasn’t letting her slip away that easily.

“That’s what you do, Rhea! As soon as anyone starts saying shit you don’t like, you fucking run!” His voice was a harsh growl, filled with the frustration that had been building between them.

She halted just in front of the door to their bedroom, pivoting on her heel. “I don’t fucking run!” she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls, resonating with her pain.

Jey laughed, but it was a bitter sound, one that held no humor. “What the fuck are you doing now, huh?!”

Rhea’s anger ignited again, and in a moment of rage, she tried to push him again. But Jey caught her wrists, holding her firmly, their faces inches apart. “Who was the first one to say ‘I love you’?” he yelled, his voice rising, filled with raw emotion. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t fucking me!”

The question hit her like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, all the air was sucked out of the room. Rhea stopped, her defenses crumbling as she faced him, vulnerability washing over her. “Joshua,” she began, but the words caught in her throat, tears pooling in her eyes.

Jey’s expression softened as he saw the anguish on her face. His grip on her loosened, and he stepped back, the realization of his own anger washing over him like a cold wave. “Rhea…”

But it was too late. She broke, the tears spilling over as she cried out in anguish, the sound raw and heartbreaking. “You don’t get it!” she sobbed, her voice muffled against his chest as she buried her face there, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.

Jey felt the world tilt as her pain crashed into him, overwhelming and heavy. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her tremors against him, and held her tight. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, each syllable laced with a profound sense of regret.

Rhea’s cries echoed in the small space, an aching testament to all the hurt she had been carrying alone. Jey felt his heart clench, realizing just how deeply she had suffered. He stroked her hair gently, desperate to comfort her, to show her that he was there, right there, in the mess of it all.

“I love you, Rhea,” he said, his voice breaking slightly, a vow he had meant to reinforce through the storm.

She pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, searching for the truth. “But what about all the stuff you said?” Her voice trembled, the weight of his words crashing down on her like a wave.

“Fuck that,” Jey replied, a fierce determination igniting in him. “I love you. I’m with you. I’m here with you. I got you pregnant, and I’m going to be your husband. You’re going to be my wife. Fuck all the bullshit. You’re mine.”

His words wrapped around her like a lifeline, pulling her back from the brink of despair. The intensity of his promise, the heat of his love, pierced through her fear.

Rhea’s heart raced, the warmth of his declarations igniting something deep within her. “I don’t want to lose you, Jey,” she whispered, her voice breaking, vulnerability spilling from her like an open wound.

“You won’t,” he vowed, his hands framing her face, thumb brushing away the tears. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re in this together, Rhea. No matter what.”

In that moment, with the chaotic noise of their argument fading into the background, Rhea felt the walls around her heart begin to crumble. The pain and the anger that had consumed her were still there, but beneath it all lay the undeniable truth of their love—a force that was unbreakable, fierce, and raw.

“You’re right,” she breathed, a fragile smile breaking through the tears that still clung to her cheeks. “We’ll figure it out together.”

Jey’s relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and he pulled her close again, wrapping her in his embrace. As they stood there, heart to heart, the weight of their shared past began to lift, leaving only the warmth of their love—a love that was scarred but resilient, a bond forged in fire, stronger than ever.

Rhea’s eyes were closed as she savored the moment of peace and serenity that had been absent. The tension that had built up between them due to their heated argument was horrible and it was something they needed to break away from.

Jey gently broke their embrace, his hands tenderly caressing Rhea's arms as he pulled away. He leaned in, pressing his lips against hers in a passionate kiss that made her heart flutter with excitement. She could feel his desire for her as his tongue explored her mouth, and she eagerly responded, her own tongue dancing with his.

Jey pulled back, his eyes gleaming with lust as he looked at Rhea. He reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head and tossing it aside. His hands roamed over her body, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his fingertips. He leaned in, pressing his lips against her neck, tracing a path down to her collarbone with his tongue.

Rhea moaned softly, her body trembling with desire as Jey's lips made their way down to her breasts. He took one pierced nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand teased the other. She arched her back, pressing her breasts against his mouth as she ran her fingers through his hair.

Jey's hand made its way down Rhea's body, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants. His fingers found her clit, rubbing gently in slow circles as she moaned with pleasure. He slipped a finger inside her, feeling her wetness coat his fingers as he explored her depths.

Rhea's breathing became ragged as Jey's fingers worked their magic. She could feel her orgasm building, her body trembling with pleasure as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. She reached for him, her fingers finding his cock through his pants. She stroked him gently, feeling him grow harder in her hand.

Jey pulled away from Rhea, his eyes dark with desire as he stood up. He undressed slowly, his eyes never leaving Rhea's as she watched him. She pushed her pants and underwear down and she licked her lips as she took in the sight of his naked body, her eyes lingering on his cock as it twitched with desire.

Jey climbed onto the bed, positioning himself between Rhea's legs. He leaned in, pressing his lips against hers in a deep, passionate kiss as he entered her slowly. She moaned with pleasure, her body trembling with desire as he filled her completely.

“Make love to me Joshua..” She pleaded.

Jey began to move, his hips thrusting gently as he made love to Rhea. His eyes never left hers, and she could see the raw emotion in his gaze. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside her as she met his thrusts with her own.

“Please don’t stop..” She begged as she let out a moan as he hit her G spot.

“I don’t want to..” he admitted.

The room was filled with the sound of their moans and heavy breathing as they moved together in perfect harmony. Jey's thrusts became faster and harder, his body slapping against Rhea's as he drove deeper inside her. She could feel her orgasm building, her body trembling with pleasure as she reached for the edge.

Jey's thrusts became erratic as he felt Rhea's muscles clench around his cock. He groaned with pleasure, his body trembling as he filled her completely. Rhea moaned with pleasure, her body trembling with the force of her orgasm as Jey collapsed on top of her.

They lay there, their bodies entwined as they caught their breath. Jey leaned in, pressing his lips against Rhea's in a gentle kiss. She smiled up at him, her eyes shining with love and affection.

"I love you," Jey whispered, his voice husky with emotion.

"I love you too," Rhea replied, her voice filled with certainty that Jey was not her escape or fix, he was her fiancé, her soon to be husband.

—

Jey and Rhea lay in the bathtub, surrounded by a frothy sea of bubbles, the air heavy with the soothing scent of lavender. The soft, rhythmic beats of SZA’s “Snooze” filled the space, wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Jey’s lips brushed against Rhea’s neck, his gentle nibbles a playful reminder of their love—one that felt both profound and effortless.

As the lyrics floated through the air, “I can’t lose when I’m with you, how can I snooze and miss the moment?” it was as if SZA was voicing the depths of Jey’s heart. He felt so lucky to be with Rhea, cherishing every second of this quiet, intimate time together. He wanted to etch every detail of this moment into his memory, knowing that they were building a life together—filled with laughter, love, and a few absurd conversations.

“Jey,” Rhea said, her tone teasing as she looked at him with those bright, sparkling eyes that he adored. “Will you still love me if I was a worm?”

Jey burst into laughter, his whole body shaking with mirth. “A worm?” he echoed incredulously. “Yeah, I’d love you even if you were a worm. You’d probably wiggle your way into my heart somehow.”

Rhea giggled, clearly enjoying this silly banter. “What about a starfish? You know, just lying there on the ocean floor?”

“Of course!” Jey replied, rolling his eyes playfully. “But if you go and start naming all these things, I’m going to say yes to everything! You could say you’re a rock, and I’d still say yes!”

Rhea laughed, her face lighting up with joy. “So, if I were a rock, you’d just stare at me forever?”

“Absolutely,” Jey grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because even as a rock, you’d still be the most beautiful rock I’ve ever seen.”

Rhea shook her head, her laughter bubbling up again. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Yeah, but I’m your ridiculous,” he shot back, pulling her closer until she was nestled against him, the warmth of the water enveloping them both.

Rhea felt a wave of affection wash over her, the kind that made her heart swell and her worries fade away. Moments like this—filled with laughter, love, and the freedom to be utterly silly—were everything she had ever wanted. It was a stark contrast to the chaos they often faced outside of this serene bubble.

“Promise me,” she said suddenly, looking up into Jey’s eyes, her voice serious but warm. “Promise me we’ll always make time for this, for us.”

Jey’s expression softened, and he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I promise, Rhea. No matter what life throws at us, I’ll always make time for you. We’ll create our own moments, even if they’re just silly conversations in a bathtub.”

Rhea smiled, feeling a surge of gratitude. “Good, because I plan on being the most obnoxious starfish or worm ever, and you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Bring it on,” Jey said, leaning down to plant a soft kiss on her lips, sealing their promise with love.

They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other’s eyes, the world outside forgotten. The music played on, the candles flickered softly, and the bubbles surrounded them like a cocoon, a reminder that in each other, they had found their safe haven. No matter what form they took—worm, starfish, or something entirely different—they would always find their way back to this love, this home they had built together.

As Jey and Rhea were engulfed in their moment, wrapped in the warmth and intimacy of the bath, the figure standing outside felt a surge of rage boiling within. It could see them laughing and whispering sweet nothings to each other, completely unaware of the darkness lurking just beyond their blissful bubble.

Its grip tightened around the crumpled piece of paper that held their new Connecticut home address. The very address that symbolized their fresh start, their escape from the shadows of the past. But to it, it was nothing more than a target—a mark for its vengeance.

“When the time is right…” it hissed, its voice low and dripping with malice. A sinister shimmer flickered in its eyes as it turned away from the scene before it. They looked so happy, so in love, and it made its insides twist with rage. It had watched their lives unfold, the way they shared moments of joy and laughter… but now.. it so desperately wanted to ruin any chance of continuing to have those moments.

With one last glance over its shoulder, it stepped back into the darkness, its mind racing with plans of how to ruin everything they had built. The paper slipped into its pocket, a tangible reminder of its purpose. As it walked away from the house, it felt a twisted sense of satisfaction, knowing it held the power to shatter their perfect world.

Inside the bathroom, Jey and Rhea remained oblivious, their laughter ringing out like a melody. Rhea leaned her head against Jey’s shoulder, content and at peace, while Jey’s fingers traced gentle patterns on her skin.

But that moment of bliss was tinged with an unsettling feeling that neither of them could quite articulate. Jey, in particular, felt a flicker of unease crawl up his spine, an instinctual warning that something was off. He shook it off, determined to focus on Rhea, on the warmth of the moment, and the love they were building together.

“Hey,” he said softly, tilting her chin to meet his gaze. “You know I’ll always protect you, right?”

Rhea smiled, but a shadow of doubt crossed her face. “Of course, I know that. I feel safe with you.”

“Good,” Jey replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her lips. “Nothing will ever come between us.”

But outside, the figure walked away, already plotting the chaos it would unleash when the time was right. For now, it would wait, its heart fueled by the promise of revenge, eager for the moment when it could finally invade their sanctuary and turn their love into fear.

—

January 27th, 2025, 4:00 PM.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows as Jey and Rhea approached the steps of the Mead School, their hearts heavy with worry. After entering the Registrar's office, they were escorted down a long hallway to the principal's office, where they found Jeyce seated, his small figure tense in the chair across from the principal.

The principal, a warm man with a friendly demeanor, stood to greet them. “Ms. Bennett, my daughter is a big fan, and Mr. Fatu, my nephews loved you so much, they dressed as you for Halloween,” he said, shaking their hands.

“Thank you,” Rhea replied, a faint smile tugging at her lips, but the joy was fleeting.

Jey cleared his throat, his brow furrowed. “Did Jeyce say anything about why he acted out?”

Rhea chimed in, her voice firm yet gentle, “And just so you know, what we do on TV isn’t something we endorse as a protection tactic for our son.”

The principal nodded solemnly. “It appears it was provoked by another student. We want Jeyce to stay at Mead, but we have a five-peats rule—it’s usually three, but we increased it to five last year. We believe every child deserves a fair chance before being expelled.”

Jey felt a sense of relief wash over him, but the seriousness of the situation lingered. “Thank you for being understanding. We’ll talk to Jeyce about this,” he said, his voice steady.

After the meeting concluded, Jeyce followed them out, but his silence weighed heavily in the air. The drive home was tense, the air thick with unspoken words. As they approached their gated property, Jey entered the code, glancing over at Rhea, who wore a small, thoughtful smile. He nodded back at her, though worry still gnawed at him.

Once inside the garage, they exited the car, and Rhea was the first to head upstairs. Jeyce lingered at the breakfast bar, grabbing a granola bar from the dish. Jey leaned against the counter, feeling the urge to connect with his son.

“Jeyce, can we talk?” he asked gently, trying to break through the wall of silence.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeyce replied flatly, his eyes avoiding Jey’s.

“Why not? You’ve never done anything like this before. Let alone used your lunchbox as a weapon,” Jey pressed, concern etched on his face.

Jeyce’s expression hardened. “I don’t want to be here! I want to live with my real mom!”

Unbeknownst to Jeyce, Rhea had descended back down the stairs to retrieve cell phone from the car and caught the tail end of his statement. The words pierced through her heart like a dagger, and she stopped in her tracks, breathless. The truth stung, and she felt an unbearable weight of sorrow as she turned and quietly made her way back upstairs, her heart breaking.

“What happened to Rhea being your bonus mommy?” Jey asked, his voice a mixture of confusion and hurt.

Jeyce’s anger flared. “I want both of my real parents together like the other kids! Not divorced!”

The words hung in the air, a cruel reminder of the fractures in their family. Jey’s breath hitched as he tried to process what his son was saying. Jeyce, overwhelmed by his emotions, bolted up the stairs and slammed his bedroom door behind him.

Jey stood in the kitchen, his heart heavy, watching his son retreat into his room. He could feel the anger and hurt radiating off of Jeyce, but beneath that, he could sense the confusion and pain of a child grappling with a reality he couldn’t fully understand.

Meanwhile, Rhea made her way to their bedroom, feeling the tears spill over as she shut the door behind her. She sank to the floor, the weight of Jeyce’s words crashing over her like a wave. The pain felt raw and insurmountable, each sob tearing at her heart. She had tried so hard to be a good mother figure for Jeyce, to show him love and support, yet in that moment, it felt like she had failed.

Rhea wrapped her arms around her knees, pressing her forehead to her legs, the tears flowing freely as she grappled with her own feelings of inadequacy. She was his bonus mom, yet somehow, in his eyes, she felt reduced to a mere shadow.

The silence of the room engulfed her, amplifying her loneliness. She thought of Jeyce’s innocent smile, the way he used to run into her arms after a long day, and now, those memories felt tainted. The love she had for him felt heavy in her chest, and she couldn’t shake the thought that maybe she would never truly be enough.

As the sobs wracked her body, she longed for the reassurance that everything would be okay, that they could heal as a family. But in that moment, it all felt too far out of reach.