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mahyuume · 2 days ago

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CAPABLE OF LOVE!

— synopsis. the ways he proofs being capable of showing love!

pairing. various!haikyuu, jjk, bllk, mha x reader | genre. romance, fluff, crack.

reminders. I’m posting after a suuuper long break, hope you guys like this! | mlist

I THINK I NEED I NEED A PICTURE, is something you’ve said countless times to your boyfriend (who will one day be your husband) then proceeding to whip out any kind of device capable of taking a photo. Currently, is happening right now.

“Baby, we need a picture, again!” You gleam at him, the look on his face already dreading the next fifty photos going to be taken; exhausted from taking the last hundred— or maybe more than that photos. But, reluctantly, he agrees. “Fine, but this is the last time,” the boy sighs then flashes his award winning smile. Just in time for- click! that. Now holding the freshly printed Polaroid, he takes a look at your face instead of the physical copy of you both.

Staring at the facial features adorned on you, he sees no flaws whatsoever. He stares at your eyes; shiny but with the hints of clear joy. Lips— he’s kissed them multiple times, but never got over how soft and plush they felt. Always wondered how you do it.

“Are you even listening to me?” You turned your head to him, giving him a small frown. He snaps back into his senses from you cutting his train if thought; now darting back at your eyes, then lips again. “Sorry,” he clears his throat, trying to get rid of all the mushy thoughts in his head. “What were you saying?” Giving a small huff, you re-explain why you both need so many photos. But truth be told, he wasn’t listening one bit. Okay, just a little, but your face is something he could look at for hours. The look of love is real when it comes to him, due to the fact that he always manages to accidentally ignore you; all while adoring you.

As voices drown out, he thinks about adding this new photo to the heart shaped Polaroid collection in his room. Cracks out a stupid smile, then further proves to be undeniably whipped for you.

TOBIO KAGEYAMA, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, NAGI SEISHIRO, RIN ITOSHI, KUNIGAMI RENSUKE, SHOTO TODOROKI, NEITO MONOMA.

‘CAUSE IT’S NEVER ENOUGH! Is what your boyfriend says almost if not every-time he gifts you things. His reasoning is always “just because” and that he truly meant it when he said if he could give you the whole world, he would. And what I just relayed out for you to process, plays out in your daily life. And is, right now.

Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding! Repeated sounds of the doorbell chiming in your ear, you smile as you already know who’s behind the door while opening it for your love. But this time like most, it’s not your love facing you. It’s a big teddy bear that’s twice his size. You’re even surprised a thing like that could fit into his car!

“And who is this for?” You question him, a silly one at that. “Some cute girl I met.” He responds but not so clearly since the bear completely hides his figure besides the arms of his holding it up, drowning in the big fluffy stuffy. You roll your eyes at his answer, “Oh? Come in and tell me all about her.” Entertaining him, you take the legs of the bear and help him inside. And oh my, it was pretty heavy. But no surprise your super strong fiancé could lift it without a sweat.

“I would but…” “But?” “I have more things for the pretty girl inside my car,” he looks over at you with a stupid smile. “If you don’t mind.” He says while walking away back to the front door in a seemingly rush.

Coming back, his hands and arms are full of designer goods, and some even being valentine gifts. Talk about a man who can treat!

“You got me all this?” A gasp leaves your pretty lips as he stares at them, it making him smile in return too. “Yup.” Helping him get the bags, he watches you with a dumb look that makes you wanna slap him for being such a mushy lover. Of course, in a good way!

Opening your early valentine gifts, each one never failed to surprise you and leave you even more grateful for the man watching and recording your reactions. He points to the Nekta bag next to you. In the video, you’re surrounded by countless luxury brands but he decides to point out a specific one.

“Open that one baby.” He smirks behind the camera, watching your face twist into one of excitement and shying away from the camera. “Why? What’s in here?” You say as your paid for nails on hands reach for the Nekta bag. Opening it, there’s many boxes to choose from. You’re not sure which he meant. “Which one?” He points to a small one, the tiniest out of the bunch.

Unraveling the box and seeing the message, cluelessly, you didn’t notice how your boyfriend set down the phone and got down on one knee.

‘Look in front of you dummy.’ You read aloud then looked up. And there he was, holding the missing ring from the box, proposing to you with it.

“Will you marry me?”

HAJIME IWAIZUMI, SATORU GOJO, SAE ITOSHI, REO MIKAGE, KATSUKI BAKUGOU.

TO SEE YOU SMILING IN MY MIND is a memory you often hear being told over and over again by your boyfriend. His dreams of you both are beyond romantic or very dramatic, there’s really no in between.

By far the most exaggerated thing he’d ever say is something about how you two turned into fishes and lived a happy life together swimming around the ocean, avoiding sharks and fishermen. But this time, it’s quite different.

Ding! Ding! Your phone goes off at 7:35pm, right as you’re getting ready for bed or doing whatever it is. Checking what notified you, a smile lit across your face as you read your boyfriend’s display name.

Weird random: Babe

Weird random: I had another dream call me rn it’s so important

Giggling and mentally calling him a weirdo, you read the messages in-app then click the Video Call option.

“Oh my gosh baby, you won’t believe what I dreamt of.” Is what you hear your boyfriend say from the audio of your phone that’s now prompt up on a water glass as a substitute for a stand. “What’d you predict this time?” You cheekily asked him as he closes the space between his device and face; now a super close up of him is in your screen.

You’re not complaining though. He’s in one of those hoodies you promised yourself to ‘borrow’ one of these days and has messy bed hair, which tells you he just woke up from a nap.

“Okay so like, it’s me and you right,” he settles his phone down somewhere around his house, now making hand motions like a story teller. “Mhm.” “We’re having this cute date and stuff right.” “And?” “And then like, you look so beautiful. Like so, like, just so beautiful that flowers bloom when you walk near them type of beautiful!”

Laughing at his silly compliment, it doesn’t fail to make your cheeks turn a pink hue. “You’re so corny I swear…” it’s his turn to laugh at your comment, “Come on girl, don’t tease me like that.” His voice suddenly turns into one more of a softer beat, “hurts my feelings.” He says as he puts a hand on his heart, seemingly clutching it. Rolling your eyes at your favorite boy, he continues on with his story- dream. His dream.

“Then boom, some random dude comes up to you and goes like ‘hey you’re pretty’ and I’m like ‘dude back off’ and then we get into a fight in order to see who wins your love.” At this point he was just background music as you did your night routine. “Babe, are you even listening?” Or maybe not.

“Of course I am.” You look at him from the side of your eye, noticing how he’s now closer than earlier. “Doesn’t seem like it.” From the looks of it, it seems like you’re plain out ignoring him. But you’e not, really! “Promise I am.” Adjusting the camera to face you fully now, he focuses on you rather than talking about his hefty dream storyline.

“What if I just married you, like, tomorrow?”

What a nice question he asked, and your answer is…

“I don’t know?” You stop doing whatever you’re doing and look at him. “Why’re you asking?” “No reason.” Liar. “Stop lying!” His hands go up in protest, “I’m not!” He looks away for a bit then returns to stare at you. “Just… just had a dream about it.” And it clicks.

“So that’s what you were trying to tell me?” And like that, it’s as if a lightbulb went off in his head. “Ah, I guess so…” he muttered, hand on his nape as he realizes he’s not the best at lying when it comes to you. “I mean, come on!” He finally breaks, “you looked so good in the wedding dress and we…” his voice trails off the second you were getting invested.

“We?” You omit him to continue, but it comes out hurriedly. “We had a big, happy family. Like seriously happy.” He admits with a smile, clearly smitten about you. This makes you innerly gush about him.

“Yeah?” “Yeah. We did.” He sighs, “If only it were true.” He fake pouts, an ugly thing he does that makes you laugh horribly. “I mean, it can be.” You nonchalantly said, as if you weren’t wishing for the same thing. His eyes light up from your sentence, lips curling into a smile. “You can’t take that back!” You laugh at his antics, “as if I would ever.”

SHOYO HINATA, TOORU OIKAWA, YUUJI ITADORI, MEGURU BACHIRA, YOICHI ISAGI, KEIGO TAKAMI (HAWKS).

৻ꪆ. Happy valentines everyone! I hope you like this one. (It’s been planned ever since December.) there were supposed to be two more lines added but I seriously ran out of time and didn’T know who else to write for… so, take this??

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etherealevangeline · 1 day ago

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Thinking about handler!simon <3

You’re his demi human pet who bites and pounces everywhere, trying to get a hold of what you can in his living room. He’s cooking up a mean dinner, trying to work on his skills since he’s sick of canned food, frozen food, and anything considered cheap meals. Simon understood he might be trying to fit into this new role of being a caregiver, and all the cozy things associated with it. Having a house smelling good, wealthy with food, abundant with activities.

He can’t blame himself entirely. Ever since he’s got you, his pet, Simon has been living life a little differently. He sees the pure, sweet and innocent look to your eyes, the way you pant excited from playing, or when you’re curled up in your bed and sleeping peacefully on your back. He’ll reach out to give your belly some rubs. On some days, depending on your mood, you’d have a feral wild bite to you.

He loved it all. And now, it seems as though he wants to try. So, he cooks. He makes his steaks juicier, he learns the difference with non stick and stick pans, grabs the best oil there is (avocado cooking oil) buys himself a new knife set, finding it rather ravishing the way it glints ever so dangerously in the light. He buys a bloody chopping board, and no, no apron.

He despises aprons despite trying to fit in.

“Bloody ladies dress,” he’d curse under his breath. He preferred the rough and tumbled look. Unbuttoned shirt, revealing tufts of chest hair, rolled up sleeves, patchy, washed out jeans. Hands covered in flour, oil, all the likes.

So he cooks.

And now he’s got the house smelling all warm, full, wholesome.

Simon, who tosses a towel rag on his broad shoulders, whistles to get your attention. It’s quick, punctual, and his hands make a move, sautéing the onions, garlic, peppers. The pan sizzles.

You were on the couch, pawing at the patchy and old couch, ears perking up at the sound of his whistle. You sniff the air and bounce down from the couch eagerly, clumsy on your legs as you walk to him.

“Didn’ I tell ya you can’t be bitin’ my things?” Simon scolds, gruff. His back faced you.

You make a mock whimper and playfully nudge at his leg, giving him your best puppy eyes. He fawns inwardly at the sight, disheveled at the sight of you being meek and playful.

Simon hides this and sighs through his nose, and in the light you could see the soft glint to his deepset eyes. His mask was off revealing his unguarded self to you, at least physically, trying to earn your trust.

“Alrigh’ alright, I know I avent’ been around. You’re clingy, needy. Enough o’ tha’.” Simon mumbled, though his eyes kept wandering to your sitting form on the carpet, itching to bite and pounce at anything.

Simon knew these days he’d been busy with base meetings, discussing a possible mission deployment. He knew what it meant for you.

And somewhere inside him it caused his gut to clench, the idea of leaving you to fend for yourself in this hippy, happy to go state. You had to be fed on time, given toys, and not just any, but the kinds you liked. You had to be put to bed too, since you were affectionate and needy. Simon got used to sitting on the bed, book in hand, his other hand patting your head absent mindedly as you drifted off.

He didn’t mind the moments now, he was slowly thawing off after all.

You made a small noise for his attention wondering where his mind was at. Simon looked down for a moment before cooking the tuna in, mushing it around with his wooden spatula. “Easy, why don’t ya go play?“

Simon did need to finish the food anyway.

You moved, curious and eager. As you walked passed him into the open space of the living room, your eyes landed on his mask laying on the wooden table. It was decorated with a dingy yellow table cloth, soft and flowy. It was a gift Simon got a long time ago. When he saw how sad and disengaged you were from the lack of decor, he tried putting it up.

Apart of you missed his scent these days, and wanted to be closer. Of course, he’d been missing from the home, so tonight was a welcomed sight to see him cooking.

So, you moved, grabbing the mask with your teeth and pawing at it. The cloth shifts slightly. You sit, unassuming, and pawing and nibbling, going quiet.

After a while, Simon figures you’re not making noises and something isn’t right. He finishes the tuna, mixed with onions, pepper, garlic and such, and adds some rice to it. He sets his plate down, tosses the rag to the counter, and saunters to you. His old work boots creak with effort.

“Pet, is tha’ my—“

It is.

He pauses, not sure whether to grin wolfishly, or sigh at your needy, peckish behavior. You’re scrabbling, almost playing tug of war now with the poor mask. Sniffing, pawing, bumping your head into the table and all like a clumsy thing.

Simon whistles.

You look up, jaw still clenched around the mask, and there it is that same wide eyed, caught red handed look.

“Oh no—“ Simon chides when you try to paw at the mask, continuing with your peckish behavior.

“Up here.” He orders softly, with a sense of firmness however, crouching down. He tugs the mask gently away from your teeth and a pitiful whine leaves you.

The confused, sour look to your face—the furrowed brows, downturned lips, tail thwacking the floor impatiently tells him you’re displeased.

“Do you want or hug or wha?’” Simon gruffly said.

You look slightly surprised, and perk up. Your ears, specifically. You tilt your head at his new approach and slowly move to him, wondering how and why he changed.

“Look, I can’t ave’ you bitin’ my masks remember, lovie? Either its hugs or no biting.” He chides gently as you clamber up in his lap, perching yourself neatly.

You sit, waiting.

He almost has to laugh lowly at the way you sit expectantly now, waiting for some pat or cuddle or praise. He slowly and gently brings his hand to stroke your hair, the delicate curve of your spine.

He admires the way you listened despite having a bratty streak, and he has to commend you for it.

“Good girl, wasn’t so hard was it?” He found himself saying, the words slipping out like sugared honey. He tilts his head, admiring the way your eyes shut, a rumbling low noise of comfort leaving your body at his touch.

“I know you miss me, can’t do much bout’ life gettin’ annoyin’ right?” Simon mutters mostly to himself. He lets you lean in for warmth.

For a while he just holds you, smelling the warm aroma, and letting you find comfort in him. It’s a first that he ever felt this sense of peace. Wholesome, sweet, and loving. Connected with you.

He makes it a point to spend more time with you before he leaves for deployment, and another point to drill down the sitter he’ll be having in place for you. Leaving you in someone’s incompetent hands is not an option for him.

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luvyeni · 1 day ago

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jeno is obsessed with you and he knows it , so much he wants to put a baby in you …

𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이제노 x fem!reader ) ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. unprotected sex, breeding kink, pregnancy kink word count. 0.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library !

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i don’t write for him enough and it’s crazy cause he’s one of my biases

jeno couldn’t help it , he just loves you so much. he needs to be around you at all times, touching you in some way — cuddling with him is always a dream , his body on top of yours , like a weighted blanket but you loved it.

“jeno we’ve been like this for two hours.” you said ; he hummed, his head pressed against your chest. “best two hours of my life.” you giggled , seeing him smile. “jen , it’s starting to get uncomfortable.” you said , trying to wiggle around but he held you still. “just a bit more.” he wispered.

“you’re so clingy.” your fingers raked through his hair. “i just love you so much.” he said. “you’re obsessed with me.” he nodded. “very.” his hand rubbing your waist. “so obsessed that i think about you having my baby so you can never leave me.” you lightly slapped his back. “jeno don’t say that.” you said shocked. “just being honest baby.” he said , bringing his hand to your boob , giving it a squeeze. “jeno.” you sighed , the once cute moment , now turned into something heated. “seeing these filled with milk.” you could feel him getting hard as he caressed your boobs. “fuck.” he whispered pulling you tank top down. “so pretty.” he brought his lips to your nipple. “fuck jeno.”

he refused to detach his lips from you boobs , fixing him so he was now hovering above you , his hard cock aligned with your clothed core. “je-jeno please fuck me.” you moaned , grinding your hips up against him , he groaned against your boobs. spreading your legs wider , putting your hands into his shorts , stroking his cock , pulling him out of his shorts. he pulled away , groaning as you jerked him off. “gonna put a baby right here.”

you moaned; pulling your panties to the side. “fuck me.” you whined , lining him up with your entrance. “mmh , sh-shit baby.” he bottomed out. “you’re so wet , telling you i wanna fuck a baby into you makes you wet?” you nodded. “so wet , jeno i love it so much.” he grabbed both your calves , folding you in a mating press. “jeno!” you screamed out as he reached deeper inside. “shh , baby let me fuck you.”

and god did he do exactly that , he had your body folded in a mean mating pressing as he plowed into you. “love this fucking pussy baby.” he moaned. “so fucking good , gonna give you what you want.” he sped up , his tip kissing your cervix. “give you a pretty baby.”

“jeno please.” you begged , tears in your eyes. “please cum inside me , give me a baby , i want it.” hearing you beg for him to give you a baby set something off inside of you. “fuck baby.” he gripped your hips , his cock twitching inside of you. “take my cum like a good girl okay?” he groaned just as you felt the warmness of his cum. “mhm fuck baby , take my cum.” he rolled his hip , triggering your orgams. “jeno.” he pulled out , stopping at the tip. “don’t want it spill out.” he said , sliding back inside, making you moan.

“guess i have to stay inside you , just to make sure it sticks.”

©️LUVYENI

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orchidyoonkook · 3 days ago

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Diving back into your glory with the second response! Kiki you once again absolutely spoil me. I had the biggest damn smile and the giggles reading through this <3

okay so the first thing that caught my eye was the warning yoon why????? a whole jk and ady warning i can't i don't think i can make it through them fucking 😩😩😩

I'm a big believer in not shying away from writing things that may make people uncomfortable. Especially if I find it to be crucial for the plot, like it is here. It's a very important back and forth, metnal conversation, sen reactions and visual scene and it. is. important!! THEREFORE! you get a warning that it is going to happen to prep yourself! I know folks dont really side pairings a lot of the time when the sex is included with them, but in this case I needed it to show an important contrast so I kept it in.

also! Because I can. :)

(this is also why i will fight to the death for all my horror, yandere, boundary pushing writers. Just because their work makes YOU (general use) uncomfortable or upset, doesnt make them wrong for writing it)

like oc and nel i can handle but jk and ady ugh nooooooo our boy our prince not her please anyone else i can take but not her (i just realized the hate train towards ady is strong damn my loyalty to oc ain't cracking) so i am just going to power through that part and take the angst that comes with it (which I welcome)

I hope you were able to see why it was needed!! (let me know if you wanna!) and I appreciate your dedication so much. I know it's tough when it's obvious to you as the reader why something probably shouldnt happen and ngl that makes it wayyyyyyyy more fun to write.

i did notice that subtle hint at of using someone and the fantasies uhmmmmm ok that must be the upside...

noooooooooooooooooo comment 😈

I honestly wonder why oc isn't mentioning her friendship with jk I honestly love it it's giving me little tingles,

She went over her reasoning in chapter three!! ☺ but that was a while ago so I cant blame you there. In a terribly summary she essentially wants to stay out of the public eye, keep the prince happy because she does emjoy his company, and not cause any drama with friends and family.

That being said! I love it too

i don't think i mentioned it but uhm this slow burn is everything its freaking burning and i think oc is definitely feeling it now that jk is with someone, the little encounter at the cafe and the texting they are just adorable and fluffy my face hurts from the smiles...

This is one of my favourite parts of the story. The banter, the subtle jabs, the build up upon build up, the realising of things and denying them, just all of it. Slow burns are my bread and butter, i can devour them always, and apparently I can somewhat write them too. Which is pretty cool

I just love how they have these opinions about each other's partners like the red flags they each see but they are all about each other's happiness, oc held back with ady but oooh jk isn't 😂 you go boy you tell her gosh i love his character in that scene....

This is another contrast!! It's intentional!! I love that you noticed because I try to be subtle about it. They both have their issues and deal with it in their own ways. OC very much deals with it in a small town girl way, whereas the freaking prince is, shockingly (not) very confrontational. I love that theyre opposites in this way.

oc and nel's scene had me pausing cause i literally went why the heck is she thinking about jk at a time like this and then she said it too it was epic oh oc you give me the giggles😂

AHA i LOVE this. I also love the fact their yours and her lines of thinking lined up. That's actually really nice feedback in a way because it means I was able to write OC in a way that actually mimics real life thought patterns when in certain situations and thats REALLY COOL to hear as the writer from the reader.

Also! Happy to make you giggle! Humor is another thing I struggle with writing wise, so I'm glad I can make you crack a smile now and then with mine.

wait what she didn't finish?!?!??!?!?! THIS IS MY ACTUAL REACTION IT'S LIKE OC IS IN MY HEAD ANSWERING ALL MY QUESTIONS OC BABYGIRL NO DIDN'T YOU LITERALLY GIVE YURI ADVICE ABOUT HER DATE AND NOW THIS 😩😩😩

The best advice often comes from those who have experience with things one way or another.

Ex: I never dated in highschool and yet I was the person ALLLLLLL of my friends came too for their relationship advice.

So, my darling OC was just looking out for her bestie in that regard imo, as someone who has trouble in that aspect of her life.

and we jump straight into jk's horror I can't help it this back to back is amazing, not me shouting no through out his entire scene why jk why, here's oc is having trouble and ady on her fourth whyyyyyyyy he better have oc on his mind

YOU DID SEE HOW THE BACK TO BACK WAS IMPORTANT!!!! YAYAYAYAYAY!!

oh I'm so happy, literally this was the "let me know if you wanna" from earlier. This is what I was hoping for!!

JK is allowed to make bad decisions every now and then unfortunately as no one is perfect and no one has perfect coping mechanisms the first time they encounter new problems. He's human, and therefore is prone to making poor human mistakes.

as for the orgasm ratio....noooo comment :)

i love how jungkook says nels name in full i can literally picture the disgust and the face he would pull (cue oc eye roll) italics and all..

AHA I love this. This is probably my fave part im sorry becaue I wrote this in intentionally as sort of a joke that turns into a habit and it's just.....so him. And i adore it because its SO. PETTY. and I live for it.

i am writing this as i read so everything scene/sentence i go to write something on my notepad so i hope it all makes sense

it does!!

and let's just say when he shut her up the scene was better to read

As the writer, I'm cackling. As a reader, FACTS.

ugh jungkook likes oc he likes her fuck can they get together already i am dying here this chapter was perfect (even if ady was in it) like the build up and their thoughts both being on each other oh that tension is building i love the progression between them and the next chapter is gone be golden ahhhhhh lemme run over

Literally the only response I can think to give is just a bunch of these guys: 😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈 and then a giant THANKYOU!

yoon you beautiful genius you have my heart this fic is everything and it's getting more and more captivating as it goes along i can't wait to see what more you do in this series seriously yoon with every update i go back and re-read everything again and I am in awe every single time and your talent, like this should be printed like i want a physical copy when it's done you are brilliant and such a star for coming up with this ily yoon i hope you know that 🥹🖤

SOBBING IN THE CLUB KIKI. THERES A SPOTLIGHT ON ME, IM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CROWD OF DANCING PEOPLE AND IM SOBBING.

And funfact! I can actually bind this when I'm done with it as I am slowly gathering all the materials I need in order to do so. So maybe one day it will have a physcial copy (or two)!

Once again I feel nothing but warmth and love and light and kindness from your beautiful words. As much as I enjoy writing, it's words like yours and lovely folks like you that make me want to keep writing.

Thankyou. Truly, truly.

Xo, Yoon.

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 6 | M

Title: Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel's here for the week and you couldn't be more excited!! Jungkook's another story though...

Warnings: M, fluff, smut, swearing, drinking, pining, angsstt, slight boundary pushing (not sexual), unwanted/ unneeded overprotectiveness, jealousy, lying, [reader eats bacon and eggs but it's not specified what kind or where it's from, just bacon and eggs, so whether that means veggie, vegan or normal is up to you], intentional pissing off of Nel, a little spat between major characters, sex as a plot device.

Mature warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 6,945

Release Date: April 20, 2:00PM

A/N 1: 6 months later and we have chapter 6! slow updates, but they will be written and they will be posted. I have no plans to abandon this, I just, very unfortunately, have a bit of an outernet life now. So not a lot of free time to be creative which I hate. But it's here!!

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five

Mature Warnings: Consensual sex x 2, both reader with Nel and JK with Ady -> sorry not sorry cuz it's plot sex. We got us some: kissing, protected sex (as we should), missionary, fingering, oral (f. rec), tiny bit of groping (consenual), multiple orgasms, loud sex, like annoyingly, sex as a terrible coping mechanism (imo), fantasizing.

Bouncing lightly from foot to foot, you’re buzzing after finally receiving the text you were waiting on a few minutes ago.

Nelly <3 [10:10pm]: Landed. See you soon 😘

He’s almost here. He’s almost here!

Just a few more seconds until—

The gates slide open. A flood of people in a mixture of sweats and business casual wear with luggage of all sizes and neck pillows walk through. You hold up the sign above your head with both hands, a smile that could outshine the sun plastered on your face, and search.

Where is he? Where is he, where is he, where is he, you think as you scour the bodies filing out of the automatic doors. You can’t see him. He’s none of the nameless faces that pass you by as they find their family, friends or rides.

Is this even the right group of people? What if his luggage got lost and he won’t be out with this group. What if he got taken aside for some reason, and now he’s being held in some dusty room being asked a bunch of stupid questions he doesn’t know how to answer? What if he’s fig—

But then there’s a gap in the crowd, and the boy you’ve spent the last half decade of your life with comes into perfect, crystalline view. His lips pulled taught, teeth beautifully bared as he sets his sights on your sign high in the air, then down to you.

And you're running.

You’re running and dodging and swerving until you’re jumping into Nels arms as he abandons his suitcase in favour of keeping you both up right. He buries his face into your neck, holding you so tightly you think he’ll never let go. And that’s just fine with you as you hold on just as tight, taking in a big breath of him too.

He smells like airplane and coastal breeze and most importantly, home.

Nel smells like home.

A muffled, “Ohhhhhhh, I missed you,” greets your ears, and you melt into him even more if that's even possible.

“I missed you too,” you say, pulling back and kissing him. You don’t really care if there’s an audience or not right now. Not when Nel’s here, and he’s in your arms, and he’s yours for a whole 9 days and life is as it should be once again.

He releases his hold slightly, but your arms don’t leave his shoulders. The sign still clutched, now crushed and crinkled, in one hand.

“Car?” he asks, a kiss to your nose.

“This way,” you lead, releasing your hold.

Luckily, his suitcase is small, so he forgoes rolling it, instead gripping the handle at the top and carrying it in one hand. Your own reaching for his other and not letting go. He’s going to have to peel you off him if he wants space right now.

Nel’s wearing his usual fall attire; a dark green school sweater that has ‘ECAD’ written over the chest in a large, academic looking mustard yellow font, regular old blue jeans, and dark brown lace up boots. His short, dirty blond hair's covered by a hat you’d gotten him as a highschool graduation present, and his ocean blue eyes remain as gorgeous as they were the day you met.

Passing through doors to the outside and back to lot J, you hop in the car as he puts his bag in the trunk.

“How have you been? What��s new? What’s not? Tell me everything,” he asks as he climbs in and sits beside you, hand finding yours again.

Never gone for too long. You relish in the comfort and happiness that alone brings you.

He’s finally here. You finally have him back.

“I’m great. Yuri’s still Yuri, classes are only a little more challenging this year, but I’m still at the top of them,” Nel slips in a ‘not surprised’ and you smile brighter as you continue. “They’re already telling us to start brainstorming ideas for our thesis show next year,” you have no idea what you’re going to do, but you’re working on it. “Campus is the same, dorms are the same, the cafe’s the same. Though, they have the egg tarts I like in more, which is awesome for my taste buds and terrible for my bank account.”

Vivian stayed true to her word, and now they had the tarts in every week.

“I can only imagine,” Nel jokes.

“Uhhmm, what else…” a thought pops up, and you guess you can tell him. It doesn’t reveal anything the whole world doesn’t already know. “The prince is dating Adaline Dupree.”

His eyebrows raise, remembering, “Oh yeah, that’s right, the prince goes to your school now.”

“Yep.”

“Have you met him?”

Is he seriously not completely shocked at the prince dating Adaline? You only bitched about her to him all the time.

“Uhhh… yep, once or twice, I guess.”

You hate it. You hate lying, especially to Nel. You hate it so much, but it’s for the greater good. It’s to keep the peace. But that doesn’t stop the burning feeling in your chest nor the roil in your belly.

“The day he arrived Yuri dragged me down to see him speak. She made us sit front row because Yuri,” Nel nods, knowing exactly what you mean. “He had everyone assemble to hear why he was at school and tell us not to treat him like a prince. He wants to be able to study without his title getting in the way.”

You hit your blinker, making a one handed left turn.

“Makes sense. Is he nice at least?” Nel doesn’t sound at all suspicious, and why should he? You’ve never given him reason to not believe you at your word before. Never lied to him before.

Fuck you hate this so much. It was so much easier when he was 5000 miles away. But now that he's right beside you? This week may end up being more difficult than you thought.

“He was very princely. Tried to kiss my hand like he did like every other girl there, but I made it a handshake instead. Figured if he wants to be treated like everyone else, I would liste—Oh!” you laugh before you can even get the words out.

“What?” he asks, intrigued but confused.

You can barely speak coherently. “You should have seen Yuri’s face when I called him Jungkook and not Prince or Your Highness...her eyes nearly fell out of her head,” tears are starting to form from laughing so hard. “It was great.”

“He didn’t mind?” Nel asks and you shake your head. Yuri’s face that day will forever be seared into your brain for whenever you need a pick-me-up.

“No, he was grateful actually. I was the first person that had addressed him like that, the way he’d asked to be.” Stopping at a red light, you're finally regaining yourself.

“Well,” he squeezes your hand, “you always were good at first impressions,” and looks at you so softly you can’t help but smile into the kiss you give him.

He remembers that school art fair just as fondly as you do.

Nel pulls away first with a thought. “Is Yuri with us this time?”

Yuri hadn’t been able to go home last year, her parents too busy on a work trip, so she stayed back and kicked it with you two, but also gave you your space when needed.

Lots and lots of space.

“Nope! Parents welcomed her with open arms this afternoon, I’m sure. They’re all on some tropical island down south. She’s bringing me an ocean bottle though, so I’m excited for that. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to add a new one.”

Everytime you travelled somewhere with a beach you got a glass bottle and filled it with half sand, half water, added in some shells or rocks and labelled it. Instead of towels, keychains, or magnets, you did ocean bottles. They lined a shelf in your room back home.

You probably have at least fifteen of them by now. Your mum likes to travel and make sure you experience the world around you, not just your little corner of it.

“Oh that’s great babe! I know how much you love those.”

“Yeah, it is.” You lean your head on his shoulder, basking in his presence for as long as the light remains red.

He’s here. He’s yours.

You only have to do this for a couple more years and then you’ll be together all the time. God you can’t wait. But you are nothing if not disciplined.

And it’s going to be so worth it in the end.

The rest of the ride to your dorm goes by quickly.

Some more red lights, some more kisses. You point out the same things you always do on the way back, and Nel acts like it’s the first time he’s seen them, just like he always does.

His hand never leaves yours over the center console.

Soon enough, you find yourselves flopping down on your bed. Bags, jackets and shoes, scattered. Nel pulls you into him, his head on your pillow, yours lying on his chest. True peace settling in for the first time in months.

“I can't wait until we’re done school and I have more than four and a half months with you a year,” he sighs. “It’s not enough. I want more. Need more.”

“Me too. But good things come to those who wait.”

“Yeah…I’m just really sick of waiting.”

“Me too,” you repeat in a yawn.

Nel’s breathing slowly evens out as you lie there, content to be in your arms again. And you look up to see his eyes closed, warm exhales brushing over your face from his nose.

You can’t blame him for being so tired. He’d had an early morning exam before flying out, even brought his suitcase to it so he could leave the second he was done. Then, the flight alone was ten hours, plus travel times to and from the airports was about an hour each way, and the wait time before boarding was another two.

Shit, he’s probably been awake for around eighteen hours straight at this point because he’s also the type that can’t sleep on planes no matter what he tries.

Oh, Nel...Of course he’s exhausted.

Giving him a squeeze before getting up, you take off his socks and jeans carefully, then tuck him into bed as much as you can. You’d try the sweater, but it involved too many working parts and you didn’t want to wake him, so you figure it’s best to have the window open tonight instead.

Grabbing your phone, you tiptoe to the bathroom and do your night time routine. It’s not an overly complicated one, just brushing your teeth, washing your face and a simple 3 step skincare routine of cleanser, toner and moisturizer. Short and sweet, but it does the job.

Halfway through brushing, you do your friend due diligence and send Yuri a ‘back safe’ text, just like she’d sent you her own ‘here safe’ when she’d landed.

You spit and rinse, moving onto washing your face and applying cleanser.

Teeth clean and face moisturized, you sneak into your room again. Nel's still out cold.

You sneak out of habit—your mom wakes at the sound of a pin dropping. But absolutely nothing could wake Nel now outside of his mother’s voice and his morning alarm. It’s a talent of his you’ve always been jealous of.

Removing today's clothes and tossing them in your overflowing hamper—reminder to self: do laundry—you slide on your pjs and climb into bed beside him, plugging in your phone and setting it down.

A thought pops into your head and you pick it back up, shooting a quick text before you can think twice.

You [11:26pm]: home safe

It pings not seconds later.

PJK [11:26pm]: Thanks Picasso PJK [11:27pm]: glad ur home safe

Your heart beats a little louder at the nickname, and you chalk it up to the excitement still in you at having Nel here and being tired.

But you sleep better that night than you have in a long time.

A short, repetitive, rhythmic vibration.

Picasso [11:26pm]: home safe

Jungkook is still standing in the same corner by the wall, Adaline somewhere in the crowd in front of him dancing with her friends. She asked him to join her, but he declined. He doesn’t need to see himself more than half drunk and dancing on the cover of tomorrow’s news cycles. Not to mention his security team would shut the party down the second a camera flashed.

His guards are carefully stationed throughout the house, all dressed down in casual wear, a few with empty cups in their hands. One is watching some sort of beer pong like game in the corner, another is mingling with some guys over in the kitchen. Three he can’t immediately see. And he knows his head guard is outside in a black car ready to get him out at a moment's notice.

Nobody can tell they aren’t here for the party, not unless they’re sober enough to notice watchful eyes continually making their way over the crowd as the night goes on.

Your text woke him from the stillness he’s adapted from standing so long, trying hard not to draw attention to himself.

You were home safe. Home safe from the airport. Home safe from picking up Cornelius.

Your boyfriend.

Cornelius, your boyfriend.

He doesn’t acknowledge his teeth grinding.

You were home from picking up your beau but even then, you’d texted him to let him know you were back on campus safely. To let him know you were okay.

It’s the first thing that makes him smile all night.

So he sends back, a bit to quickly:

Me [11:26pm]: Thanks Picasso Me [11:26pm]: glad ur home safe

Because it means something to him that you deem him close enough to send a ‘home safe’ text too.

That you want him to know you’re back.

Want him to know you’re safe.

Whether you know it or not, your safety means a lot to Jungkook, so that little two word text makes his heart lurch.

He needs to leave.

He needs to get out of this fucking house and back to his dorm. He came, he drank, he observed, he fulfilled his boyfriend duty.

That’s enough for him.

He shoots Adaline a text that says he isn’t feeling well and gets out as fast as he possibly can, dodging bodies left and right and doing his best to hide his face.

Once he’s out, security team in tow, the cooling midnight air does him some good.

“Someone make sure she gets back to her dorm safe,” he says in their general direction, brain too muddled to be polite in this exact moment, but it’s nothing they haven’t seen before.

This is going to be such a long week.

He can’t wait till it’s over. Till he doesn’t have to share anymore.

He was never very good at it anyway.

The smell of bacon wakes you.

And toast, and…

Eggs?

You think, at least. Since when do you have bacon? Or eggs? Toast is a given, it’s part of your life’s blood.

Opening your eyes, you blindly reach for your phone, successfully unplugging it and bringing it to your face.

The screen is too bright but you suffer through it, squinting.

9:27am.

9:27?

You slept for ten hours!?

You can’t remember the last time you slept more than 6 consecutively, aside from recovery nights, and even then it was fitful.

Nel comes in with two plates, his full with a very Eastern breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs and bacon. Yours with two pieces of toast, lots of bacon, a bit of eggs and some fruit. Where did he—?

He smiles at your confusion, “You have a cafeteria that sells breakfast food, you know.”

You know that.

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because the look on your face says otherwise.”

You flop back down and pull the pillow over your head, mumbling incoherent nonsense. You rarely used the dorm cafeteria for breakfast. Much preferring the greenhouse cafe or simple toast and juice that you can make in your dorm.

He chuckles. “Two breakfasts for me then, okay, if you insist,” Nel moves to leave but you screech, uncovering your face.

“Noo! I want it. Please, sweet nutrition,” he hands the plate over when you sit up, arms out stretched, and you dig in.

After a piece of bacon, you ask, “How long have you been up?”

Nel’s sitting with his legs crossed at the end of your bed, munching away, “Long enough to get changed, grab my wallet, get food and come back.”

The bacon is really good. You’ve never been so glad he knew you so well as you grab another piece from the dwindling pile.

“You slept well then, too? That’s good, I’m glad. You needed the rest.”

“Having you around always makes it easier to fall asleep,” he nudges your knee with his elbow.

Even after five years he can still make you blush.

“I know the feeling.”

You two fall into step, starting your weeks in advance prepared plans, the rest of your day passing quickly.

Too quickly.

And so does the next day, and the next, and the next.

All of your activities are going great. The zoo, picnics, study dates, restaurant dates, historical, artistic and architectural museum tours. Even a swim at the school’s indoor pool, and there’s plenty more to come.

Things slip back into being easy, just as they always have been with Nel, ever since that first day back in tenth grade.

He knows you like the back of his hand and predicts your moves before you make them, just like you do for him.

You know his favourite foods, and where he prefers to park when driving—always avoiding open curbs—you know his dream travel destinations, and who his favourite musicians are. You know his favourite pencils to design with and his favourite pencils to shade with, that he always put on his right sock first, then right shoe, then left sock and left shoe. You know that his drink order is an iced coffee with two cream and two sugar, that he prefers loose shirts over fitted ones, and that his favourite colour is orange.

It’s a pretty orange too, not just any orange. You wonder if it’s anything like Jungkook's–

Wait.

You search your memory for the information, going through favourite foods, drinks, music—all discussed previously, because you know their answers. But colour?

Nothing.

How have you never asked what Jungkook’s favourite colour is?

Isn’t that usually one of the first things people ask when they’re trying to get to know one another? Funny. Guess you’ll have to inquire the next time you see him.

Anyways, just like you know everything there is to know about Nel, he knows everything about you too, including your routines.

Which is why at twelve noon every day, he starts getting ready to go to the greenhouse for your afternoon study session.

Including today.

Your week’s already half over and you hate it. Time always moves far to fast when all you want it to do is slow the fuck down.

You only have five days left. Five days.

You’re lucky the greenhouse cafe is open during break, some places on campus are required to stay open for the students who can’t make it home, but greenhouse chooses to.

As you and Nel turn the corner you see a familiar figure sitting in his old spot at the back of the patio. The same hat, mask and hoodie, now paired with a leather jacket on top due to the weather starting to cool down.

You can tell Jungkook wasn’t expecting to see you by the way he stiffens before those all too familiar brown eyes of his meet your own. Which is fair, your schedule shifts a bit when you’re on break, he isn’t used to you being here at twelve on Wednesdays.

But as quickly as he sees you, his gaze is back on his laptop, like he never saw you in the first place.

Like you asked him to do.

And a sharp pain stings inside your chest.

When you and Nel get to your table, he sits in the seat opposite to where you always do, leaving where Jungkook usually sits beside you, empty.

A part of you is grateful for that, though you can’t figure out why and table that self discussion for a later date.

Setting down your things, you ask Nel if he wants coffee. He answers yes, like always, and after a quick visit with Viv, you're pulling out your chair and setting down your cups. Your back faces Jungkook. It’s a small mercy you can’t see him. Maybe you can forget he’s here and actually focus on your work.

But it’s also exactly because of your position, that you can’t see as Jungkook subtly watches you over the rim of his laptop while you and Nel talk quietly and study.

Nel can though.

It feels weird to ignore him. To pretend you don’t know one another when for the better part of the last seven weeks all you’ve done is talk, hang out, study or a mixture of the three, every day.

When having him sit behind you and not beside you feels so wrong and so foreign.

But this is your own doing, you caused this. So you need to suck it up and get used to it.

This is exactly what you asked for all those weeks ago. The perfect solution to your problem.

No one can know.

Not Nel.

Not anyone.

But fuck, if it didn’t absolutely suck in practice.

Setting some of your books out around you and on the table Jungkook usually uses, you dig into your business homework. Having a major and a minor are great for job prospects, on paper, and in practice after you’ve completed them.

But getting them? It takes years of hard work and dedication with no distractions.

None.

You spend almost every free moment you have doing homework or practicing, trying to get ahead, trying to stay on top.

…Trying to beat Adaline.

But you just use that as fuel for your drive to be better. To be the best.

Competition is healthy. Especially when you’re winning against the rich brat who’s used to getting what she wants.

Not that you're petty.

Ehh…You are. But only a little bit. At least you can admit it.

Nel gets to work as well, the sunlight from his spot is great for drawing. He’s working on a rough version of his thesis project that’s due at the end of the year. He has to have multiple completed renderings as well as a scale model, and he’s been brainstorming since last year about what he wants to do.

Currently, he’s drawing up an airport, trying to design so that it’s not confusing and complicated for first time users.

However, his occasional swearing and muttering to himself makes you think he’s having a tough time with it.

You try not to laugh, but a small giggle slips out.

“What,” Nel asks, a little distracted.

“Nothing.”

“No really, what’s up? I could use a laugh right now,” he insists, eyes on you at first. But then something behind you steals their attention every few seconds.

Someone.

“You just…you still make funny sounds when you're frustrated with a drawing. It’s endearing.” You reach to place your hand on his knee, trying to gain back his full attention.

Ignore him, Nel. Please ignore him.

“Yeah...” he exhales. “I guess airports are out,” his hand covers yours quickly and you hear a faint chair screech from behind you. Nel doesn’t miss it as he says. “But I do have a much bigger appreciation and understanding for all those who came before me,” pupils now unmoving from their target behind you.

Fine.

You’ll acknowledge it.

“Is everything okay? You keep looking at something? Is there an animal or…” You know what he’s looking at, but go so far as to turn anyway, playing up the ‘confused girlfriend’ role. But Nel squeezes your hand, stopping you.

He leans in, placing a fake mask of serene on and lowers his voice. “That guy keeps looking at us, moreso you. And he looks pissed off.”

Fuck, think of something.

Anything. Anythi—Oh!

You lean in too, so close your noses almost touch. “He’s probably just upset we’re talking. The greenhouse cafe is usually a quiet place to work,” good enough, you think. That’s believable, right?. “It’ll be fine. Let’s just ignore him and get back to work.”

You place a quick kiss on his lips but Nel isn’t letting up on his unnecessary vigilance. But then again, he doesn’t know that Jungkook is the opposite of a threat to you. So you reassure him, in your own way.

“Babe, seriously. If you’re going to be all protective or whatever, don’t. I come here everyday when you're not here and I’m still alive and unharmed. Go get a sandwich or a refill to get your head off of it and say hi to Viv. She’s still here, and I’m betting she remembers you. You’re kinda hard to forget.”

You can tell Nel’s about to reject the idea when you insist. “I’ll be fine, Nel. Promise. Three years and not a scratch on me.”

He sighs through his nose, but relents.

Placing his drawing pad on the table, he gets up, but not before placing another kiss to your forehead and mumbling, “Scream ‘cumquat’ if you’re in danger and I’ll come running, okay?”

You laugh outright at that. “Will do.”

You watch him as he goes, and the second he’s inside, you’re racing for your phone, typing at an astounding speed.

You [1:45pm]: Didn’t your royal upbringing teach you not to stare so blatantly!??? Nel caught you

You hear a quiet ping from behind you followed by a small exhale that sounds more like a disguised chuckle.

PJK [1:45pm]: Yes.

You [1:45pm]: So you intentionally got caught?

PJK [1:45pm]: Maybe

You [1:45pm]: Shithead

PJK [1:46pm]: Rude

You [1:46pm]: You deserve it

PJK [1:46pm]: I know. I’m just making sure he’s treating you right. PJK [1:47pm]: and trying to see if he acts differently when he knows he’s being watched. He’s very protective you know

Jungkook saw the second Nel noticed he was watching you.

His posture changed from easy going to on alert. His hand went so quickly to yours on his knee and his public displays of affection increased significantly.

It was pathetic, really. It went above a normal amount of protection. Nel was claiming his ‘property’, making sure Jungkook knew not to touch.

And the nasty look Nel gave him as he entered the cafe—gratefully still unrecognizable in his disguise—was another silent way to say back off, stay away, and don’t try anything or you’ll regret it.

It was a red flag in Jungkook's mind. A small one, but it’s still there because his efforts are completely unneeded. After five years together, Nel should know that you can handle yourself.

Hell, Jungkook knows that and it’s only been two months.

You [1:47pm]: yes I know he is, and I already told you he treats me well because he always. Does. Not just in public or under watchful eyes You [1:48pm]: and since when does my boyfriend of half a decade need your ~princely~ seal approval?

He ignores the small jab. You only ever brought up his title when you were mocking or upset with him. And he knows that in this case it's the latter.

PJK [1:48pm]: Since now PJK [1:49pm]: And it’s not that I don’t trust you at your word, but I usually like to decide for myself

That has you reeling.

Where does he get the audacity to think he has any say in or about your relationship? Your very solidly built, five years strong, healthy, happy relationship?

Because he’s the Prince? You’re pretty sure you established on day one that you didn’t and still don’t give a fuck about his birthright.

If he thinks he gets an opinion on any of this he’s got another thing coming the second he asks you anything about Adaline again.

You’re in the middle of typing out a paragraph explaining all of this when another text comes in.

PJK [1:49pm]: Because I’ve seen far too many women in love who are blind to certain things PJK [1:50pm]: And far too many hurt in the end because of it.

You pause. Fingers frozen mid swipe.

Blind to what?

How many women did he know that were in love but missing something about their partner? Surely there couldn't be that many. Right?

But this was Jungkook you were talking to, he’s lived numerous lifetimes already. That fancy birthright of his you don’t care about having given him far too many life experiences to have at his age. And they’re only going to increase from here.

So instead of hitting send and cursing him out quite spectacularly, you stop and think for a moment.

What did he see that they didn’t?

That you might… not?

You’re a decent judge of character if your record tracks. And it does.

So your curiosity gets the better of you as you delete your rage paragraph and settle for a simple two word question instead.

You [1:50pm]: Like what?

You can see that he’s typing out a response but the bell on the cafe door rings and you put your phone down. It buzzes with his response a few seconds after.

You’ll check it later.

Nel takes his seat again, and you notice he has his sandwich, but also that he’s moved his chair and starts sketching from the new position giving him a direct eye line with Jungkook.

You internally scoff at that.

Nel has always been protective. But he was raised that way and you don’t mind too much. You don’t expect him to change his core values for you, just like he never expects you to change yours for him, even when a couple of his are just the slightest bit overbearing.

But that’s part of a relationship. Give and take and compromise. No one person is going to be perfect for another. It’s healthy to have differences.

That being said, Nel doesn’t change positions for the rest of the hour. Even as Jungkook packs up and leaves, Nel eyeballs him until he’s out of sight.

That night while Nel is brushing his teeth and you're lying in bed, you check the text from Jungkook.

PJK [1:51pm]: Like if they’re getting treated the way they should be or if they’re settling for the best they think they can get or for the first guy that showed interest. The one who hasn’t grown up even though time has passed. The one who’s holding her back by not setting her free

You stare at your phone. At the text. At his words.

And dismiss it.

You aren’t one of those women.

You know yourself.

You know what you deserve and how you should be treated. You didn’t settle, you just happened to find your love at a young age. That’s something special and rare and should be protected. And Nel has most certainly grown up as time passed.

Jungkook is being ridiculous for absolutely no reason. Surely he’ll have seen that today. Seen how Nel loves you, treats you how you deserve to be treated, holds you up. Supports you.

You’re confident he’ll be eating his words soon enough.

Finished brushing, Nel comes back to the bedroom and snuggles up behind you and you put down your phone.

He cuddles you for a minute before placing a kiss at your neck. Then another. And another before he’s mouthing up your neck, and sliding a hand up your thigh and to your waist. It pauses on your stomach with teasing caresses, before dipping lower and lower, beneath the fabric of your sleep shorts, and under the elastic of your underwear.

A small moan sounds in your throat at the touch. His fingers meeting your folds and the sensitive bundle of nerves at their apex.

You wanted this.

Need it.

He’s grown, you think; as a finger slips in you and you gasp at the stretch, legs opening wider for him. A second finger plunges in and you can feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with every thrust. Just like you can feel a bulge forming behind you.

You know what you deserve; as he uses them to scissor you open, making sure you’re ready. You roll over, now on your back with Nel over you as he pulls your shorts and underwear down to get better access, your own hands removing your shirt.

You’re not settling; as Nel moves down, tongue making a couple swipes at your entrance and you hiss in pleasure before he’s reaching over, grabbing a condom from the nightstand drawer and sliding it on, length hard and dripping at the sight of you bared before him.

Nel wasn’t the first guy who’d shown interest, just the first you’d said yes to; and he slides in. Both of you moaning at the snug fit.

“Fuck...” he says and you nod, agreeing, before pulling him down into a deep kiss.

He eases into a slow, steady rhythm that has you breathy and his abs tensing.

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need to erase these past two months without him, and take enough to last for the next two. It’s never enough, but you try.

“Faster baby,” you beg, “Please…faster.”

Nel isn’t holding you back. Jungkook doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.

Nel picks up the pace and you start moaning, louder like you know he likes. Likes to hear he’s doing a good job. He’s grabbing your breast and sucking in a nipple, tongue swirling and you're bringing your hips to meet his with every thrust.

It feels good. It always feels good with Nel.

He was your first everything. First kiss, first intimate touch, first love.

Only love.

And he makes you feel good with that love. That touch. His kiss.

He makes you feel safe, inside and out.

Jungkook can go eat grass. He doesn’t know your relationship. Doesn’t know the first thing about it.

“There, right there!” you whine as Nel hits your sweet spot once and you arch. He tries again but misses, continuing faster, his peak coming quickly.

Jungkook can never understand what you two have. What you two have built in these five years. The understanding and security that comes with it.

He’s being an unrightfully opinionated ass on something he knows nothing about and—

Fuck! Why are you thinking about Jungkook? You’re having sex with Nel. You shouldn’t be thinking about anything or anyone other than that.

Than him.

So why can’t you get what Jungkook said out of your fucking head?

“Ahhh… oh fuck. I’m cumming.” Nel’s hips stutter, his face contorting in pleasure as he releases, filling the condom.

You kiss him passionately to rid yourself of your princely plagued thoughts, the ones filling you with unwanted and unnecessary doubt. You want them gone, gone, gone. Nothing but Nel in their place.

And you slip an, “I love you,” in between kisses for good measure.

Jungkook could never understand.

Nel kisses you back just as hard, dramatically slowing his thrusts, drawing out his high for as long as possible.

“I love you too.”

Jungkook doesn’t know anything.

Nel groans into your lips when it becomes too much and pulls out.

Removing and tying off the condom, Nel goes to the washroom to throw it out and starts the shower he knows you’ll be joining him for when you're done.

A routine you’re all too familiar with.

One you created.

He knows you need a few minutes to get yourself off.

You’ve never been able to cum from sex with a partner. No matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did.

Most would think Nel wasn’t a good lover or wasn’t trying enough, but it was through years of constantly trying anything and everything that you learned you just…couldn’t.

No amount of fingering or oral or penetration from your partner could make you orgasm.

So Nel knows to wait for you in the shower as you finish yourself off, your own fingers making quick work of it, because you always could for some reason.

It isn’t your ideal situation, and it isn’t anyone’s fault. But it works. You both get the intimacy you crave and you accepted a long time ago that you were just one of the unlucky few.

Screams fill Jungkook’s ears as a hand finds his hair and nails rake against his scalp.

Adaline isn’t a quiet receiver.

“Ohmygod!” She shouts for the twentieth time. “Yes! There…so goo-oohhhh,” the last syllable turning into a loud moan.

He’s holding her downwith a forearm by her pelvis, mouth full as he brings out her third orgasm of the night, juices flooding his tongue.

He’s working out earlier frustrations and proving a point to himself in this fucked up version of self therapy.

He shouldn’t be.

But he does.

Has to.

Seeing you today with Cornelius spurred feelings within him that he didn’t know he had. Sure, there were bits and pieces of something stirring he refused to name, but today?

They were in a whole different ballpark. Different than anything else he’s ever felt before, brewing inside him, bubbling up to the surface even though he’s been trying his best to pop them and shove them down.

Anger?

Feelings he doesn’t want to have.

Jealousy?

Does have.

Wanting you to look at him the way you look at Nel?

Can’t have.

Not for…

He admits he provoked Nel because he could. Dick move, but it was because Jungkook knew just by looking at him that giving you any form of attention would piss him off. He seemed the type.

Overly possessive, overprotective.

Overbearingly so.

Suffocatingly so.

Because Nel knows how lucky he is. That you chose him. That you still choose him.

He knows he has to keep others away.

Knows he isn’t good enough for you, holds you back. But keeps you anyway.

The selfish prick.

So Jungkook eyed you up and down, leisurely, and for as long as he wanted. Purely out of the need to prove to himself he was right about his little assessment of your boyfriend. At least that’s what he told himself.

Was it childish and unnecessary?

Yes.

But he was right. And that felt good.

He could see in your posture and your hushed words you didn’t want Nel’s protection, didn’t need it, and that Nel ignored that wish of yours. Did what he wanted to instead of respecting your ability to make decisions for yourself. Bulldozed your opinions.

It pissed Jungkook off.

He’d left a little while after sending you that text to read, but you never did. At least not since the last time he checked. And so he’d made plans with Adaline the second he was out of your earshot. Calling her up and setting a time for what’s currently taking up his primary focus.

Because even though it was Adaline underneath him, for the very first time, that’s not who he imagined it was.

Not who he just dragged a fourth orgasm out of with his fingers because he could.

Because he would. He would be so much better. Give so much more. If only…

Fuck.

Jungkook stands and drags his cock over Adaline’s entrance, whacking it against her clit a couple times before running the tip through her folds and pushing in. He hisses at the feeling. At who he was sinking into in his head, splayed out in front of him. Skin glistening with sweat mixed with arousal. Mouth open, slack jawed in pleasure.

Adaline moans loudly and it dissolves his visual.

His tattooed hand moves to hold her hands above her head, the other silences her mouth.

“Quiet now,” he whispers, low and deep. A bead of sweat dripping off his brow, hair sticking to his neck and temple.

He intends it to be sexy for her, but in reality, he’s just sick of hearing her. It’s ruining his mental image. Not that she’ll ever know that though.

To Adaline, this session is all about her and making her feel good.

But constant screams and loud, pornographic moans aren’t appealing to him in the slightest. They're taking him out of the mood. Making him soft.

Once or twice when it’s genuine? Sure. But the constant assault she loves to give his eardrums? Not even a little bit.

He sets a fast, rough pace, and Adaline’s eyes roll back in pleasure, screams finally subsiding in white hot bliss, replaced by bitten lips and smothered whimpers.

He is going to prove this point to himself over and over again. All night if he has to.

And he has to.

To get whatever it is he’s feeling for you out of his system.

To keep his sanity.

To forget.

And while it’s Adaline’s name is on his lips when he cums.

It’s not the name he repeats in his head like a prayer.

Chapter Seven: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

A/N 2: Thanks for waiting for this chapter. I'll try my best to have 7 out as soon as I can get it. I promise.

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

#NUMBER TWO DONE!#even though i just responded with a bunch of them #i have no words #people like you keep the fic community alive i hope you know thta #there would be no community without you #i adore you #reviews #TWWWBAATTA reviews #Eastern Arrivals and Unwanted Doubt #moonchild1 #KIKI<3 #as always if there are typos no there isnt

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bookworrm1999 · 1 day ago

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How Far Away? Part 6

Caleb x Mc

Tags: unplanned pregnancy, presumed death, depression, miscommunication, miscarriage scare

Summary: Mc and Caleb fight right before he goes on a long mission into space. Caleb ends up MIA while Mc finds out she's pregnant. She struggles to deal with the grief while Caleb is fighting for his life to make it back home to her.

AO3

Your anatomy scan was in two weeks and the little baby bean was doing well at 18 weeks.

This sugar drink from Hell was just nasty though, oh the things you do for love. You laid a hand over your bump, now a sizable little thing.

It was so cute, even though the bean inside it had caused you so much sickness.

You sipped more of the nasty glucose drink, grimacing the whole time. Finishing this horrible thing in 15 minutes seemed like such a chore.

Screw it, you threw it back like a shot and chugged it.

Ugh, you nearly puked from the taste and the texture but managed to hold it down as you wiped your mouth.

Tossing that bottle into the trash felt like victory.

You couldn’t even drink some water after all that.

What were you going to do for 30 minutes?

Well, you had lots of practice in just staring into space these days.

A memory swallowed you, bringing you back to happier days.

“Caleb?”

“Yes sweet girl?”

“Do you think we could play a game?”

“Sure what do you want to play?”

You scrunch your nose before clapping with glee.

“Oh! Can we play truth or dare?”

Caleb laughs before settling down on the couch next to you, pulling on the end of your nose.

“What, you didn’t play that enough in high school pipsqueak?”

“No! I mean I did but you never let us play it together when we were young. You always found some way to deflect.” You pouted a bit but fascination overcame you as you watched the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Well,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I couldn’t exactly play it and risk my feelings for you coming out. My friends weren’t exactly kind enough to not dare me to kiss you or some shit like that.”

“Ha! So the truth comes to light!”

He digs his fingers into your waist, making you squeak because it was ticklish.

“And what about it?”

“Can we play now though?”

“Sure squeaks.”

You tap your chin before holding your finger up as if an important thought came to mind.

“I dare you to kiss me!”

“Really? That’s what you use your dare on? I would’ve done that without a dare.” He scoffs and kisses you, holding your chin as he bites your bottom lip a bit before pulling away.

“I’m going to ease you into it!”

“Well I’m not! I dare you to go to the other room and take a naughty photo then send it to my phone, I need a new wallpaper.”

“What?!” You squeak.

He uses his evol to push you up off the couch

“Hop to it squeaks!”

“You’re going to regret that!” You say this as you stomp to the bedroom, you’re going to make his dick so hard that he’ll beg you for release.

30 minutes passed as you escaped to your memories. Tears leaking out a bit as the image of Caleb was seared into your mind.

“Hey.”

This jolts you out of your daydream, you sit up jerkily as your legs had fallen asleep. Rubbing your eyes and face to get rid of the evidence, you look towards the speaker.

It’s Zayne, he looks at you with concern.

“Is something wrong? Why are you waiting here?”

“Oh,” you laugh a bit, “I’m fine, just waiting on my glucose test.”

“Oh, have you gotten your blood drawn yet?”

“No, I need to go do that now. Thank you for checking on me.”

Getting up to leave, he stops you before glancing away, not wanting to meet your eyes as he asks

“Can I take you to dinner?”

This instantly brings back the memory of him asking you to marry him almost two weeks ago. You didn’t think it was a good idea, way too soon to think about marriage and not fair to Zayne at all.

“Zayne, maybe that’s not a-“

“I just want to take you to dinner. If it happens to show you that I could be a good choice, that’s great. But I really just want to make sure you’re okay. You’re my friend after all.”

Oh, well that deflates your argument. He’s right, he’s your friend first and you had shut everyone else out.

Maybe going out for once could be good. Get some actual food for the baby instead of a protein bar and a banana.

“Ok, I’ll go to dinner with you. I just have to go get my blood drawn and we can go.” You glance down at your outfit, right. “I’m not really dressed for anything fancy.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He waves his hand “Go finish the test.”

Right, you walk to the lab and finish the test without issue.

Walking back, he’s already clocked out and waiting for you.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere we can get you a nutritious meal, I have my doubts on how well you are eating at home.”

“Hey! I have a basket right by my bed full of things that I made sure are acceptable foods for the baby.”

“By the bed…”

Oh, you had just given away a small piece of what life had been like for you lately. Too late to take it back now.

Getting into his car and sitting in silence was so awkward. But finding something to talk about to fill the silence was like trying to scale a mountain in the snow.

You didn’t have the energy to waste on small talk these days.

He pulled up in front of a small restaurant surrounded by ivy, kept warm by glass barriers from the winter weather.

He held your door open for you and offered a hand.

You took it, thankful, getting out by yourself even at this early stage of pregnancy was awkward. Getting out of your deep and comfy chair at home was like competing in a triathlon. Zayne didn’t need to know that though.

You and he were seated relatively quickly with menus at a small table in the corner. Which gave you an immediate distraction from his intense gaze.

“Have you seen a therapist?”

“Why are you asking me that all of a sudden?” You glance at his serious face over the menu.

“I should think that the reason would be obvious.” Now holding his hands out with all his fingertips spread out and touching, he leans against them, only his eyes visible.

“No I haven’t.”

“I think you should, it would be beneficial for you and for your baby.”

“I know, my OB gave me some information on therapists and social workers that I could reach out to if I choose to.”

“But you haven’t.” He states this as if it affects him and not you.

“No, now stopping bugging me about it.”

He sighs before laying a hand on yours, the warmth of another’s touch leaving you a bit breathless after not touching anyone in almost a month.

“I’m worried for you, I care about you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Zayne, I… I really can’t think about you in that way right now.”

“That’s not my intention right now. My objective is purely to make sure you are alright, as a friend. If I could help you by marrying you, if that’s what you needed, I would. But it’s not my focus.”

Now you felt really bad, you kept boiling him down to thinking he only wants you as his wife.

He was your friend first and foremost.

“I’m sorry Zayne. I-I will try to reach out to somebody soon ok?”

“Thank you.” He releases your hand and looks at his own menu.

You order a light meal, just some protein and a side. But it was your first real meal in weeks.

Having it next to such a good friend who cared made your heart feel a little warm.

Your baby now able to kick you a bit, leaves you feeling not quite so alone.

You end your dinner with Zayne on a higher note than you would’ve expected it to be. Holding a small box of what you couldn’t finish, you smile at him. It was small but a real genuine smile was on your face.

It lightening your countenance and a bit of that pregnancy glow finally came through.

Snowflakes started falling lightly from the sky.

Landing in your hair and eyelashes, making you look like you truly belonged in the snow.

Zayne looked at you eyes a bit wide before he raised your hand, held it to his lips, brushing against your skin as he whispered

“Goodnight.”

You pulled your hand away, it wasn’t time for that.

“Goodnight Zayne.” You drew your line in the sand.

Turning around, you headed towards that transit center, hoping you could get home before the snow got bad.

Coming home to Caleb’s empty house made you feel guilty. You hadn’t even done anything, you’d set the boundary but you still felt a bit dirty.

Zayne was wonderful but he wasn’t for you. He deserved a girl who loved him with all her heart. Who wouldn’t forever look to the stars for a love that wasn’t ever coming home.

Whose belly wasn’t swollen with the evidence of another man’s love.

But the guilt rose in your throat, choking you. You felt gasping for breath, you sat heavily on the floor next to the bed. You gulped your water bottle but the room still spun.

Caleb, Caleb grounded you.

You fumbled as you pulled your phone out, turning on the camera. Talking to him like this, it made you feel like he was still listening and here with you somehow.

So you gasped and sobbed into the camera.

“Caleb! I can’t breathe! You aren’t here with me and I feel like I’m drowning!”

Getting this out, you managed to suck a few Dee breaths in. Calming down as you imagined him on the other side.

“I went to dinner with Zayne tonight. You know he asked me to marry him? He said he wanted to help somehow….”

You laugh as the absurdity of it hits you.

“Who’d want to marry me? You didn’t, I wasn’t even your girlfriend.”

You glare at your clenched hand.

“Why do I feel so guilty? I love you so much but you’re gone so why is it eating me up?”

You look at your lap but something strange captures your eye. Your dress had ridden up and you thought you saw a flash of red.

“What in the world?”

You set the phone down, forgetting to stop recording.

“Is that blood?”

Lifting your dress, you found your suspicions to be correct, blood in between your thighs. Panic sets in as the world collapses around you.

Tags:@gojosballsack69 @apple-lov3r @dinochocochip @moonberry69 @supermyeon22 @tinnyrabbit @gavin3469 @marina27826 @crowleysthings @tabi-callico @midiplier

@his-ocean-emissary @rosalyne08 @xaviers-pookie-bear @tsunamethyst @thejujvtsupost @cherrybeomgyu

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace caleb #lads caleb #caleb x mc #caleb x reader

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tkwrites · 22 hours ago

Note

regarding your reblog about quinn sitting out for four nations….. i’m sure sarah would also be very relieved that he’s prioritizing his health, but i’m now also so curious how you think sarah would have dealt with the whole situation leading up to now….. i.e., quinn playing with his injured hand for weeks, the fact that they kept sending him back out in that one game when he was clearly in so much pain and couldn’t even make it through a shift (the game was basically over anyway!), and even just the process of him making the decision to skip four nations. how do you imagine sarah was feeling about all of it and how outspoken do you think she would have been about her concerns? do you think quinn was asking for her opinion? do you think the topic caused any sorta tension at all? (rambly as hell as per usual mb)

Well, this took on a life of its own (rambly as hell in my own way).

We're going from injuries and Sarah's worry that Quinn is putting himself at risk for the team, all the way to her keeping to her Valentines Day plans despite the fact that they're spending the lead up to the day together.

I had this idea for Sarah gifting Quinn lingerie to get him hyped for her arrival in Montreal on Valentines Day, and I just couldn't let it go, so you get everything together.

Warnings for lots of angst, and then lots of teasing and longing at the end. Also, some praise kink stroking.

Hope you enjoy even though it's a little chaotic!

Though they live together, and they’re fully committed, she’s still not quite sure what her place is in this situation and how much she should say. All Sarah wants is for Quinn to not push himself too hard. To not injure himself any further.

They first talked about it when he decided to join the team mid-way through the road trip after his hand injury. This caused a minor argument. She thought he shouldn’t go. He felt like the team needed him, and, as the trainers told him, he couldn’t injure his hand any more than it already was if he took the proper precautions. To him, it was a no-brainer.

“You’re not the only person on that team, Quinn,” she said as he was packing.

“Yep, that’s the definition of a team.”

“I just…” She bit her lip, trying to figure out how to make herself heard. “I know you’re the best player on the team, but —”

He stiffened, “no, I’m not.”

“Statistics don’t lie, Quinn.”

He turned from his suitcase then, “but what?”

The way he was looking at her, all hard edges and determination made her pause.

“But what?” he demanded again.

There was no good way to say this. “But, if they can’t figure out how to play without you, I’m worried you’re going to run yourself into the ground trying to keep them afloat.”

Anger flashed in his face before he turned back to his packing, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe not,” she acquiesced, “but I’m worried you’re going to hurt yourself even more. Isn’t it worth taking time off to heal?”

“I have to help them,” he said, voice sounding like it was cut from glass.

“Quinn, I know you want to win, but…” she trailed off, leaving out the at what cost?

“We need to win these games, or we miss the playoffs.”

“I know, but —”

He slammed his suitcase closed. “I’m going, okay. I can’t hurt my hand any more.”

She winced, mind racing with images of someone targeting his injury, slashing him, or slamming him into the boards to guarantee it would get worse — keeping him out of the game even longer.

The way she was looking at him, resigned and… almost frightened, made Quinn pause for half a second. His shoulders dropped, “I have to go, Sarah.”

“Have to?”

“Yes. I have to help however I can.”

Even though she’d thought this would be the outcome of this argument, she had to fight for him, even if he wasn’t going to fight for himself.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her soft voice was like a punch to the gut.

“I’ll be careful,” he promised, pulling a half smile onto his mouth.

Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, but she still drove him to the airport and kissed him goodbye, hating the scratchy feel of the brace straps when his hands cupped her face.

“I’ll call you when I get there,” he promised.

She nodded, “Please be careful.”

“I will,” he promised. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, giving him a sad smile goodbye.

He finally understood the guilt Mysey talked about when he came back from injury as soon as possible last season.

The night he injured his oblique, she was watching from home (of course), wincing through the whole game. Everything felt off with JT suddenly gone. Then, near the end, when they announced Quinn was off the bench, her heart started to race, and she grabbed her phone, hoping he’s sent her some kind of update. He didn’t until after the game, and after she’d watched him try, and fail to skate the way he usually did more than once, knowing it wasn’t Tocc throwing him out there, but Quinn throwing himself out on the ice.

When he came home, wincing at every movement, she watched him with big, worried eyes.

She didn’t talk to him when he went to the rink for the following game, angry that he was so blatantly ignoring his own welfare. She even thought about not going to the game at all but ultimately decided that would cause more damage than she wanted to repair. It was a nice surprise when he appeared next to her to watch the game. Relief flooded through her, knowing that the trainers and coaches wouldn’t let him play, despite his insistence he could push through.

As the tournament loomed closer and closer, and his injury was getting better, but not healed, she felt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Quinn is competitive and intense, and hockey is something that brings him an enormous amount of joy. She didn’t want him to miss this opportunity to play for his country and with his brother and best friend, but she knew he just couldn’t. Hearing his grunt of pain when he sat up in bed each morning was enough to tell her he couldn’t feasibly play. His hand injury, though persistent, didn’t affect much of their everyday life, other than she’d been on top most of the time, which neither of them minded all that much. But this was different. And both of them knew it.

When he finally announced he wasn’t playing, relief swept through her life like a wave. She’d even contemplated calling Jack to beg him to make Quinn see sense. The fact she didn’t have to made her feel almost giddy. If he hadn’t been so sad, she would have danced around the house in celebration.

The only thing she was a little sad about was the change to their Valentines Day plans. With school, she’d been planning to fly out to him on Friday night, and had care packages packed to sneak into his suit case, something to open on the 12th, 13th and 14th to get him excited for her arrival.

She stuck to the plan, even though they were home, leaving a gift out for him to find each morning.

When Quinn got up to go to PT on Wednesday, he had a text from Sarah. Don’t forget to open your gift!

He had no idea what she was talking about.

The gift she was referencing turned out to be a black silk drawstring bag, no bigger than a sheet of notebook paper, left on the dining room table. The tag tied to it read, This time, you get to choose. Package 1 of 3, which will it be?

When he opened it, he pulled out a swath of meshy lace. Blue, to match his jersey. It took him a while to figure out which way was up, but once he did, he couldn’t help the noise that crawled up his throat. It was a lace body suit. Sheer and stretchy. Just imagining Sarah in it gave him an instant boner.

He brought it up after she got home that evening, but she just patted his knee with a coy smile, “you have to wait to see all three options before you can make a choice.”

“There was only one thing in that bag!”

“I know,” she said, pressing a teasing kiss to his mouth, “they were supposed to go in your suitcase, so you’d be excited to see me on Valentine’s Day.”

“They?” he demanded.

“There are more,” she said simply, sauntering out of the room and leaving him feeling breathless.

“You’ll get the second tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder.

He groaned despite the excitement that reared in his stomach.

The next morning, after a restless night of wanting, another black bag appeared. This one on the bar counter. Two is the middle, but will it win of the three?

His fingers brushed something soft when he reached inside, and for a moment, he thought it might be empty before he realized the thing he was touching was made of the same material as the bag. He pulled out a pair of little silk shorts, trimmed in lace, then a matching black camisole. Compared to her gift from the day before, this seemed incredibly tame. All the same, he had to admit, he wanted to see it on her. He knew it would be her perfect brand of comfortably sexy.

The thought of her in the little silk set popped into his mind even more than the blue number had. The blue lace was a fantasy — one he definitely wanted to see come to life — but the silk was real, something he could see her wearing often. He could imagine sliding it off her when they settled into bed on a normal Tuesday night.

The image of her curvy thighs swathed in the slippery material assaulted his thoughts so often, he practically jumped on her when she got home from work, cornering her against that same bar counter where she’d left the gift that morning.

“Hi,” she said, giggling against his mouth.

“You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

“Am I?” she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes.

“Why don’t you put this on?” he asked, fingering the lace where it lay on the counter behind her.

“You have to see all three,” she said, easing away from him. “Pick which one’s your favorite.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to wait. And the whole point of this was to get you so excited to see me, you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me once I was there.”

“But you’re here now.”

“Patience is a virtue, Quinn.”

“This isn't patience. This is torture.”

“Torture?” she repeated, arching a brow.

“You don't get it! I've had a hard on for two days now, and I’m going crazy. It’d be different if I was gone, but you’re right here.”

She smiled a satisfied smile and walked to the kitchen.

He was so desperate for her the next morning, he followed her to the bathroom, crowding her against the sink, hips pressed to her ass as she brushed her teeth.

“Please?” he groaned in her ear.

She shook her head before leaning over the sink to spit out the toothpaste. The move caused her to press back against him, and he grunted.

“Just because you’re home doesn’t mean we should skip out on the amazing Valentines Day sex I had planned.”

“It is Valentines Day,” he reminded. “We can have amazing sex right now.”

Shooting him a look in the mirror as she swished mouthwash, Sarah shook her head.

Letting out a groan of frustration, Quinn let his head fall on her shoulder.

“You just have to make it until I’m done with class,” she said, turning in his arms. “I was planning on making you wait until I would have arrived in Boston, but then I decided that was too mean.”

“Why don’t you skip class,” he asked, nosing her jaw as his mouth dipped to her neck.

She let out a pleasured hum.

“Come on,” he whispered into her skin, “I’ll get you off as much as you want.”

Swallowing her desire and clinging to the knowledge that the anticipation would make everything better, she broke away from him, “I have to go to class. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

He was gripping the sink, breathing deeply when she left the final present on the bed, and slipped out the door.

Barely glancing at the tag, Package 3 of 3. Are you getting excited to see me?, he tore into the silk bag, nearly ripping it in the process. Too impatient to wait, he turned it over. Several pieces of red fabric spilled onto the duvet.

He swore as he pulled the pieces apart. The largest was a robe, satin and short. There was a bra with a bunch of straps he couldn’t figure out, but he knew would look dead sexy once Sarah had it on. Then, a pair of panties made from the same lace as the bra. Only, it seemed as though the whole back of them was missing. Like a thong in reverse.

How was he supposed to decide which of these to pick? He wondered if he could convince her to try them all on for him so he could make an informed decision.

In the end, after laying each piece of lingerie side by side on the bed, he decided it had to be the blue. He’d never seen her in anything like it before, and at this point, he wasn’t sure if he could wait for her to change.

He left it out on the bed and left the apartment. He needed to clear his head and had to pick up her gifts.

When he got back home, he called for her, hoping he hadn’t beat her home.

“I’m up here.”

He raced up the stairs, nearly dropping the roses and chocolates in his haste.

“Holy fucking shit,” he said once his eyes landed on her where she was leaning against the lucky couch, wrapped in tight blue lace.

“You like?” she asked, skimming a hand down her side.

He made a nonsensical noise that nevertheless served as an affirmative answer. She looked incredible, all lace and curves, and yet, still his loving Sarah. She was a fantasy come to life.

“You’ve been so patient for me,” she said, padding toward him and taking the gifts from him.

She made a show of leaning over to set them on the coffee table.

His tongue felt too big for his mouth, and he made a sort of guttural sound of longing.

Her hand trailed up his arm when she came back to him, “you’ve been such a good boy for me, Quinn.”

“Fuck.”

“You know what good boys get?”

“Rewarded?” he ventured, his voice cracking over the word.

“That’s right. Are you ready for your reward?”

Knees wobbling, he nodded frantically.

Giving him a sexy smile, she led him to the bedroom.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

#quinn & sarah snapshots #tkanswers 📮#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction #nhl fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes oneshot #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x ofc #quinn hughes au #quinn hughes x oc #hockey fanfiction #hockey romance #this is chaotic as hell

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sscieloz · 2 days ago

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Cherry Sky

mean girl!Minnie Yontararak x university student!reader

Synopsis: Minnie needs something to play with after having a shitty day, shitty month, shitty year. Yuqi, as the great friend she is, gifts her something to take off her frustration on: you.

Warnings: nsfw. +18. smut. bites, scratches, bruises, mentions of blood. pain/pleasure mix. mommy!minnie

Word count: 6.1k

Notes: happy valentinesss ˆˆ, this is my morally questionable gift to you, my babiess. I wanted for it to be freakier but I’m also lazy so I’ll stay lacking.

“There you go. Who would’ve thought you could look this pretty, mhm?” Yuqi told herself, even though your eyes interlocked through her closet’s full-length mirror. “You look like a doll, y/n. I knew you weren’t a lost cause!”

Your classmate’s round, almond eyes might seem innocent to some, but her dirty smirk was a clear statement of all the harsh, subtle comments she chose not to say. You were familiar with her passive-aggressiveness— in fact, you’ve grown somewhat used to it, from observing those same expressions during the many classes the two of you shared for nearly an entire semester.

Out of her evil little friend group, Yuqi was the last one you would’ve guessed to be a STEM major. You still remembered the surprised huff that left your lips when you first met. The blonde girl had thrown her stuff in the seat next to yours, chewing on her gum while ignoring your existence for weeks before even greeting you hello.

There had to be more to her than snappy remarks and a head full of blonde hair. Something intriguing, unsettling enough to keep you up at night, thinking about what else she kept hidden until she was bored enough to stir up some trouble.

It didn’t take long for her to prove she was more than the dumb, fake bitch you imagined. Contrary to popular belief, Yuqi was insanely smart.

It was easy to notice, even with her small, direct answers to your professors during classes. She’d make it clear that this class— and perhaps the major you shared, was something too easy for her. Which, looking at her endless As, indeed it was.

“Are you sure about this, Yuqi?” Your tone was as uncertain as your whole body language, frowning as you hugged yourself to cover up a bit more.

She dismissed you, kneeling to grab one of her pink Adidas samba shoes. To your surprise, she helped you put them on, unexpectedly sweet as she tied your shoelaces without rush.

“I’m serious, Y/n. Relax! God, you’re so tense all the time.” It was her turn to frown at the way you shivered. “You’ll get horrible wrinkles if you act like a granny.”

Your nervousness wasn't from the cold, and even though Yuqi knew so, she didn't comment on it. A small peace offering; one you gladly accepted.

“Relax, of course.” You murmured to yourself, sneaking one last look at the mirror before your classmate dragged you out of her mansion, dodging hallways until you reached her massive garage. Yuqi took her time choosing her car for the night, smiling as if she was having the time of her life. “I’m relaxed.”

“Great! Composure is the key to luck.” Yuqi nodded in approval, starting the car as you shrank under your seat. Her smirk grew dangerous, then, as the vehicle made a curve. “And you’re going to need it tonight, doll.”

For the sake of your mind, you hoped she was wrong.

—

“Damn, a 47%?” Yuqi’s whistle hurt your pride, as she lurked over your shoulder to get a glance at the paper handed to you by the teacher. “For someone who studies so damn much, Y/n, you’re pretty fucking dumb.”

“Do you ever mind your business?” You shot back, shoving the paper in your backpack in hopes your grade would disappear too. Besides sitting next to each other for months now— since none of your friends attended this class and the seats were paired, Yuqi had never talked to you in a tone that wasn’t drenched in poison or mockery.

You hated her guts.

Although you had to accept your defeat, this time. As much as her words were harsh, they weren’t untrue. The majority of your free time was spent hidden in the darkest spots of your university’s library, rereading textbooks and preparing flashcards in hopes you’d understand what the fuck was going on in your classes.

Such impressive, useless dedication. You would’ve probably scored higher without studying a thing.

Yuqi knew that and was eager to rub your failure over your face. There wasn’t a single thing happening at university that she wasn’t aware of, although being a topic of her attention was rather amusing to you.

After all, you were just a stupid, struggling student— much different than Yuqi, who came from the elite and was one of the most popular girls around.

The girl and her friends were the closest thing to royalty in campus. Nothing happened on university grounds without Soyeon, Miyeon, Minnie, Suhuha, and Yuqi’s endorsement. More than idolized, , they were icons: adored, feared, and respected. People clung to them as if they weren’t simply snobbish, greedy, judgmental women with a keen eye for fashion and a weird obsession with humiliating random people for the sake of boredom.

That was, of course, just your humble opinion. Other than that, you kept to yourself, living a quiet life without being involved in any dramas or gossip scandals.

Still, Yuqi’s scrutinizing stare didn’t waver. If only, she was sizing you up, deciding whether or not to make use of her evil mind.

“I can help you if you want.” She commented, adjusting her stuff in her backpack as the entire class prepared to leave. Even though she was pretty good at keeping up with her careless, relaxed reputation, it was obvious she was hiding something.

Her movements were too precise, fingers twitching and twisting like she was desperate for something you couldn’t quite grasp.

You raised a brow, unimpressed. Curiosity got the best of you. “Help me with what, exactly?”

“With your grades, obviously,” Yuqi stated, as if you were stupid. She snapped her fingers in front of your face, “I can round them to like, a 90 or a 95% real quick.”

“My oh my.” You whistled, smirking at her. Truthfully, you found her hilarious. “Am I getting private lessons from the Song Yuqi? I feel honored.”

The blonde scowled as if the thought of spending time with you was out of the question. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n. I have way better methods. Besides, with that miserable grade, I doubt you’d learn anything anyway.” Yuqi got up with grace, paying no mind to your incoherent curses as she winked at you. “Think about it, ok? You can message me later.”

As if you had any intentions of doing so. People like Yuqi never truly let go of a deal. Accepting such an offer would tie you to her for a long time— she would be able to manipulate and blackmail you as she pleased. To hell with that; your grades could suck, but you were smarter than this.

Although you screamed back, just to tease. “You didn’t even give me your number!”

Yuqi laughed, not turning around as she disappeared down the crowded hallway. You both knew why: there was no need to. She was already all over the place, anyway.

And she was pretty positive you’d find her soon.

—

“How much did you say you needed for this class again?” Yunjin asked, unpacking her bento box as you sulk beside her. It was too cold to eat outside, but the cafeteria’s seats were already all occupied by the popular crew and their eager minions.

All of those who dared to find a seat at one of the tables were immediately met with straight-up threats; the last thing you wanted for the day was to undergo any further stress.

Sometimes you had to pick which battles to lose.

“An 82%.” You whined, hiding your face in between your hands as you tried not to panic. “I need to score a freaking 82% to pass, Jen. In this hellhole of a class! Sooyoung scored 86% on our last test, and she’s the smartest student at this uni.” With a deep sigh, you shook your head. “I’m so fucked. ‘Gonna fail this for sure, oh my God. My parents are going to kill me. They’re going to cancel my scholarship and I’m literally—“

“You’ll pass, Y/n.” Chaewon chimed in, with her calm, reassuring voice after kissing Yunjin’s cheek. “We’ll study with you. I remember going through hell in this class when I took it, too.” She squeezed your arm, in hopes of bringing you comfort. “It all works out in the end. Try to not freak out too much, please. You can do it, seriously.”

But you were already lost to anxiety, replaying future scenarios in your head. Failing this class would be the end of you. There was no way you could afford it.

“You don’t get it, Chaewonie.” You muttered. She truly didn’t. Your parents would most certainly not accept it, nor would your brain ever allow you to rest if you didn’t make it. “I’m fucked.”

Yunjin patted your back, encouraging and supporting you as she’s always done. Both girls let you sulk this time, offering solutions and options of what you could do to get yourself out of this problem.

The topic changed quickly, soon replaced by an avid discussion about one of your classmates and the other classes you shared with Chaewon and Yunjin. Not that you were listening. If anything, your fingers scrolled down on your phone.

With a distracted mind, you pressed on Instagram. Yuqi’s profile wasn’t hard to find, and you were quick to send her a message. Truthfully, there wasn’t not much to dwell over— you’d back down from her deal if you thought about it too deeply. Submitting to her offer was a terrible idea, after all.

I’m in.

To your surprise, her answer came immediately. She texted an address and a time, nothing more. Although that part was expected. Yuqi wasn’t one to justify herself.

Everything so you won’t fail, you tell yourself.

This is just so I won’t fail.

—

Yuqi’s final destination was a mansion just as lavish as the one you were previously at. You had never seen such thing before: the front garden was neatly trimmed, with a fountain adorning the pavement and tall wooden doors. The lights were arranged so the white construction was glittering in pink and red. Just above the door, a big sign made no mistake of the party’s theme.

Minnie’s Valentine Wonderland.

Embroiled in neat, cursive handwriting, the words made you understand Yuqi’s fuss over the crimson dress she had insisted on you wearing.

Minnie loved being a host. Her parties were always the best; people looked forward to them all season, always eager for an invitation or a hint of the themes she so vehemently insisted on having. It was a fun way of making people put at least half an effort into looking a bit different than their shitty university-sleep-deprived selves, as she frequently mentioned. With Valentine’s Day being so close, it made sense that would be the chosen theme of her first event of the year.

Even though the place was crowded, there was still plenty of space for all the people who gathered on the main floor. You’ve been to one of her parties, once— as a freshman, you had been invited to one of the welcome-to-university parties she organized, as the head of the reception committee, and it was surely one of the best ones you’ve attended in your entire life. Everything had been impeccable, then: the food, the music, the drinks… you excepted no less than that, this time.

After all, Minne has always been one of flattery.

The music inside was loud enough to hurt your ears, but you didn’t mind. If anything, the nerves were taking too much of a toll on you; your sweaty hands refused to go away, no matter how many times you brushed them on the hem of your dress.

During the entire day, all Yuqi had done did was give you orders: sit here. Stay still. Put this on. Ugh, I didn’t like it. Here, try this other one.

You stood true to the older girl’s wishes. With a dress so red you were sure you looked like a car sign, you clung to Yuqi, flustered and exposed at her friend’s party, as she confidently parted her way through the crowd and dragged you around like a doll.

After what felt like an eternity of being under so many pairs of attentive, judgmental eyes, the blonde stopped by the darkened cushions.

Located in the middle of the dance floor— or rather, the living room, given the size of the room and the paintings that weren’t hung to prevent being stolen, you recognized the three intimidating girls that stare down at you. Miyeon, Shuhuha, and Soyeon seemed as disgusted by your approach as you thought they would be.

As if you ever wanted to take part in whatever it was that Yuqi’s evil mind had planned.

“Look who we have here.” Soyeon tossed her drink towards you and Yuqi. “Who’s the lady you’ve got for the night, Yuqi?”

Instead of answering her friend, as a normal person would, Yuqi turned her head around, “Where’s Minnie?” She asked, grumpy to not have met her friend immediately.

Suhuha snorted, falling into laughter while Soyeon rolled her eyes and shrugged, not at all bothered by Yuqi’s petty attitude. “Not here, thank God. She’s even more insufferable with Valentine’s Day being tomorrow, and all. You know how insufferable she’s been ever since Lisa dumped her, that fucking b—”

“Don’t worry, girls.” Your classmate smirked, holding you by the shoulders as she showed you off. “This won’t be an issue even longer. I’ve got one of her favorite presents! Now, just gotta find her. If you’ll excuse me.”

The girls all mumbled together in confusion, screaming for Yuqi to get back and explain her words to them any further. They all sighed, except for Soyeon, whose eyes you still felt burning on your back, as the engines of her brain worked perhaps too fast.

She knew what Yuqi was capable of, and, as of late, that wasn’t an argument she was willing to get on about. So she finished her drink in one go, dancing with her friends in hopes her curiosity would be washed away, too.

—

The grand staircase to the second floor was completely blocked by two fridge-sized men. All it took was a subtle nod from Yuqi and they opened some space for you to ascend the way. Like every other bit of the white-marbled mansion, the place was neat, polished, and strangely empty. Besides the few sculptures in between the hallways, the place lacked warmth.

You’d be at university 24/7 too, if you lived in such a strange place. Although you guessed it suited Minnie. An icy, impersonal place for an equally cold woman.

“Quite a place, don’t you think, Yuqi?” You scoffed, trailing your fingers over the cold walls as you rushed to keep up with her pace. "Very cozy. Gives off some haunted vib—”

Yuqi was done with you. In a swift move, she pulled you to the wall, placing one of her arms over your shoulders so you’d be partially unable to move.

“Listen, smartass.” She spilled, poking the center of your chest with her bony fingers. "Do you know something Minnie specifically hates?”

“Controlling friends that go manipulative behind her back when in reality, they can’t stand her?”

You’ve always failed to understand why Yuqi’s friend group was so feared by others. They were so pretty, so small and contained… you knew of the terrible things they’ve done to others simply out of boredom, but still couldn’t feel intimidated by them at all.

Although, staring at Yuqi’s darkened eyes in an empty corridor made you understand those people a bit. You gulped, suddenly hyperventilating.

The blonde girl followed your chest’s movements, lost in thoughts for a moment. Seconds linger for perhaps too long, and you were about to question what was so interesting when your classmate straightened her posture as if nothing had happened.

“Defiant fuckers.” She muttered between closed teeth, so close you could smell her minty breath, “So how about you close your damn mouth and act like a good, obedient little doll, huh?” You were released from her grip after one final, harsh pull, just as Yuqi added, with a low tone that managed to be even more intimidating than her usual lousiness. "Remember your part of the deal princess, and I’ll remember mine.”

The way Yuqi pronounced any of the pet names she so frequently liked to address people made you sick to your stomach. Still, you couldn’t help but murmur, as the blonde gestured for you to enter a big, spacious room.

“So polite, you are.”

Yuqi closed the double doors with careless strength, her tone strained. “Y/n.”

“Okay, okay!” You raised your arms in defeat. “I’ll be good, promise. Your friend’s good little doll, or whatever her sickening fantasy desires. Now where is she?”

“Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question.” The blonde murmured. Pointed to the middle of the bed, then, instead of answering you directly. “You can sit over there while we wait. Do you remember the rules?”

The room, like all the others, was pretty big, but too light. The wallpaper, the wooden furniture, the canopy bed… all white and impersonal. You felt the need to punch this house’s designer in the guts.

You rolled your eyes, reciting Yuqi’s words in a poor imitation of the older girl. “Just say red if I want out. It’s that simple. Now, where is your damn friend? I’m starting to think you’ve made her up, Yuqi. She’s never around when I bump into you, at campus, and now she’s nowhere to be seen…”

Your provocations irritated her. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Yuqi turned towards the door in expectation. “You’re unbearable, Y/n. Just shut the fuck up, for lord’s sake.”

The door opened before you cursed at Yuqi. Instead, you both fell silent as Minnie walked in.

You’ve seen her before, obviously, but no everyday look would ever do justice to her party outfits. She looked pristine, impeccable in her pink dress, and long, pitch-black hair cascading down her back.

“What is it, Yuqi?” Minnie’s hard, demanding voice had both you and Yuqi straightening your posture. Her eyes met both of you with annoyance, something somewhat comforting.

Yuqi stood quickly, caressing her friend’s arm as she placed herself beside her. “Well, you’ve been bitching so much about being so stressed and pent up…” The blonde made a brief pause, stretching her arm out in your direction. “So as the perfect friend I am, I decided to get you something for you to play with and cool off a bit, for the night.”

For the first time, Minnie seemed to take you in. How your dress was so short half your thighs were exposed, your white, pearled stockings, the big bow carefully arranged behind your back. Yuqi had indeed wrapped you like a present, all for her precious friend.

Only because the blonde was staring at you like her eyes were going to fall off her orbs, you added to her phrase, with a low, sultry tone. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Minnie.”

Minnie’s provocative smirk vanished immediately. She walked to you, deadly serious.

“And what a pretty little doll you got me, Yuqi.” She stopped when you were close enough you could reach out to her without even stretching your arms. “You do know me well. Is she all mine to play with?”

You hadn’t excepted for her to be so… powerful, in every sense of the word. Minnie’s presence was suffocating, and she hadn’t even talked to you yet. How would you not be intimidated? Rumors regarding Minnie’s… skills and preferences traveled freely on campus, so it was only natural that you were both thrilled and curious to see if she’d live up to them.

This time, your trembling fingers and rapid breathing were not from something bad. Rather than that, you were still wary, of course. But also thrilled— and aroused. You could feel your insides starting to get sticky with the anticipation.

Yuqi might have provided the bigger picture, back in her house while dressing you up, but the result of your imagination went far beyond her simple phrases and grunts.

“Remember,” Yuqi told you, diverging your attention from Minnie for the last time. “If you happen to want out anytime, just say red, and she’ll stop. Deal’s still up, even then.” She meant to speak some more, but Minnie’s impatient grunt had her sighing and walking away. “Bye, Y/n. Have fun.” The last part was meant for Minnie, yet you couldn’t help but be curious by the way she kept looking back at you so much.

If you hadn’t known your classmate to be the insensitive, mocking bitch she was, you’d say her tone was a bit pitiful. Surely, you were imagining things by now.

Yuqi was not one to pity anyone, much less you, whom she made sure to mock and laugh over for nearly an entire semester.

Luckily, there was no reason for the two of you to ever meet again after that night. One night, and you’d have all of your issues solved.

You’d just have to survive the charming, devilish girl who stared at you like you were a piece of flesh for a woman starved.

—

Minnie’s had a terrible month. Everyone seemed to have chosen all of their actions strictly to piss her off. The most simple things were enough to throw her off, let it be someone accidentally bumping into her in between the hallways or her professor giving her a 98% instead of 100%. Either way, she has been acting even more insufferable than her normal self for weeks, now.

Naturally, everyone around her had to suffer as well. If she was irritated, they’d have to pay. It was simply how things worked. Her annoyance would only fade if she let it cool off; physically, preferably.

Usually, Minnie would just scream at whoever was nearby, and throw some stuff around until she was tired enough to recompose herself into her well-known steel princess title.

Now, her best friend had provided something even better. A gift, all for her to ruin as she pleased. To take off her frustration until she was satisfied. A girl so angelical, sitting eagerly on the edge of the bed with big, careful eyes that stared at Minnie, waiting.

Minnie would sure make good use of Yuqi’s little doll.

“You really are a beauty.” Minnie licked her lips, tapping your thighs so she was able to position herself between you. Her hands traveled to your chin, inspecting your face with her big, judgmental eyes who seemed to like what they saw. With a caress, she added, “Yuqi chose wisely. You’re just my type. So, tell me, my dear: what can I do to you? How much will my doll take?”

There was no need for Yuqi to tell you to speak nicely. Now, with Minnie hovering over you with her big hands, you realized there was no way you could ever misbehave. In fact, you were glad to be sitting over on the bed, or else you’d fall right away. Each word that came out of her mouth made you shift uncomfortably, unable to close your legs or hide the way she turned you on by being so… powerful. Her assertive, disregarding tone was so hot, and sultry in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Even if you were cheating your way from a class, you felt the need to earn that through the conditions Yuqi had placed under you. Despite her giving you an outing, you’d do no such thing. You’d be Minnie’s perfect doll, and take whatever she gave you.

For your class, naturally. This was all so you’d pass the class you and Yuqi shared.

Purely because of your goals, you looked at Minnie behind your lashes. Your answer came in a tone as low as hers, barely a murmur. “Whatever you think is fit for me to take.”

Minnie’s eyes grew dark with your response. She hummed, clearly pleased, smiling so brightly her pointy canines showed in both corners of her mouth. You were eager to have their marks on your skin. “Oh, she speaks.” Her hands are placed to your legs once again, as she adjusted your thighs so they’re impeccably in place. Always taking her time; going slowly, running her fingers down your skin as she got familiar with your body’s reactions.

“I have a name, you know.” Her thumb parted your mouth, and she watched you suck on eagerly. “Would you use it for me mhm? It’s simple: just call me Mommy.”

She didn't wait for you to gather yourself as she moved her hands all over your body. Squeezing your things, sizing you up. You were eager too, “Yes, Mommy. I can do that.”

“Wonderful.” Minnie’s hand stopped in your clavicle, tapping your wishbone before bending over to whisper in your ear, “Now say it again, baby.”

You gulped, wishing for her to not notice how fast your heart was beating. Still, you did as told. “I’ll take whatever Mommy thinks it’s fit for me to take.”

“Very well, then.”

That did it. Minnie sealed your lips with her own in a possessive, restless kiss. Her tongue invaded your mouth, dominating, dictating the pace as you tried to keep up with her wishes. Surprisingly enough, she tasted sweet, like strawberries from the peak of the season. She took her time, pressing wet kisses on your skin until she pressed her face against your shoulders and bit, harshly. Minnie laughed when you screamed, out of breath from the sudden pain. She dragged your arms to her own shoulders, delighting herself as she traced her nails over your marked skin. More come afterward, as she kissed and bit your arms, neck, and breasts… owning you all over.

You didn’t expect to like the pain. Certainly did not anticipate how much you’d crave the sinking of her teeth, along with the endorphin that came with her kisses soon after.

“My pretty little doll.” Minnie sang as she took a step back to appreciate her work. She frowned upon your disheveled state, clocking her head sideways. Before you even blinked, she was all over you again, pinning your arms up as she tied them against the bed frame with a rope. “Does it hurt?” She asked, running her long nails down your arms with a sickening tone.

Your breath hitched. It burned a bit, and was surely uncomfortable, acting like a constant reminder of your vulnerability. Somehow, you didn’t mind. You’d do anything to have Minnie look at you with such delight in her eyes, anyway. “It’s fine.”

Minnie’s stare was cold enough to cut ice through it. Shivers ran down your body as you remembered your deal, correcting yourself. “No, Mommy.”

“There you go.” She praised, massaging your thighs once again as she adjusted her hair so it stayed out of the way. “Just such a smart, pretty girl you are.”

Yuqi had spent an excruciating amount of time playing dress-up with you, earlier on. She’d dressed you in white stockings and ridiculously small, red panties that had your face burning when she handed it to you.

All the preparation had been worth it. Minnie licked her lips, certainly imagining all the ways she’d ruin you, make you beg, and cry her name out loud. The wet patch in your panties was even a bit embarrassing. But how could you not be desperately wet, from the way she could barely contain her excitement to touch you? You’ve never felt so desired before. So empowered, even if you were currently restrained and wearing clothes that left little to the imagination.

A warm tongue on your clit brought your focus focus on Minnie. She was quick to ruin your pantie's thin fabric, leaving your pussy bare for her delight. Your wetness was obvious, you were sure of it as she hummed and licked until you were a breathless mess under the woman.

It was agonizing, not being able to tangle your fingers on her scalp and push her deeper into your cunt so she’d stop with this slow, taunting pace of hers. Grunting, you pouted, moving your hands in hopes the knot hadn’t been properly sealed.

“Be patient, doll.” Minnie laughed, looking down on you. Smacked her lips, then, satisfied. “I was just getting a taste of what’s mine for the night.”

Instead of her fingers, you were met with a vibrator humming directly into your clit. You roll your eyes in pleasure, moving your hips aching for more. Minnie gritted her teeth, slapping your thighs repeatedly to get you to stop moving.

“You’re moving too much.” She complained, scratching your thighs with her long, carefully styled acrylic nails. They were painted red, too, with tiny sparkles that have her fingers shining even in the dark. “Do I have to tie your legs, too?”

You shook your head, trying to argue against it. There wasn’t a single, coherent thought going through your mind— all you could think about was Minnie’s touch, so harsh against your skin, not satisfied until every inch of your body was left raw, red, and sensitive, and the vibrator sending continuous waves of pleasure to all of your body.

Minnie’s fingers hovered over your abdomen repeatedly, and it took a while for you to realize she was writing small words against your skin. Doll, pretty, hole…

You moaned louder at the realization. Truth be told, you’d do anything to have more of the tingling sensation that was building up in your stomach. You needed more, or else you’d explode.

“More, please.” You asked, taking a deep breath to keep the tears from rolling down your watery eyes. Patience was something you lacked, especially when it came to getting yourself off. “Mommy. I n-need more. More i—inside.”

It was so easy for her to ignore you. Minnie paid you no mind, biting your waist as she reached up to one of your nipples and tugged harshly. Your small breasts allowed her to cup them entirely, as she did. Minnie gripped, smacked, and turned both your tits into stress balls as she made her way to suck on them. It was certain that they’d be sore and bruised in the morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing you could do was moan like a slut, desperate to get more of the pleasure Minnie was so good at offering. She laughed again, so mean and full of herself as she looked down on you. If you still had the smallest bit of pride, you’d be offended by the filthy names she whispered in your ear.

Instead, your moans were lustful and high-pitched.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie shoved her long, thin fingers inside your mouth, careless as you gagged and tried not to throw up as she pushed them deep. They were gone as soon as they appeared, and you couldn’t help but whine at the lack of contact. “You want my fingers, doll? I did my nails today. It’s definitely going to hurt.”

Minnie’s canine teeth always appeared when her smile turned wicked. She showed you her fingers, making scissoring motions like you’d beg for her to do on your pussy. At your desperate nods, she brushed them past your slit as the vibrator’s level increased. “But you like that, don’t you? You like the pain.” There was nothing you could do but agree with her. You needed it, needed the pain mixed with pleasure to add to such a delicious feeling you were experiencing. “Like the slut you are. Don’t worry, love. I’m going to give you just what you need.”

Two of her fingers made their way inside your cunt, moving at a quick pace to match the vibrations. It was, too much, and it burned.

Such an amazing feeling, to have every inch of your body filled by Minnie, the sensation of an orgasm approaching; you can feel it everywhere.

You knew it was how Minnie liked it: messy, hard, and with a bit of pain in the mix. Yuqi had mentioned it as if daring you to back away and call off your deal, but you couldn’t help but think you deserved it.

For not doing well in your exam, you’d feel better with a bit of pain. And it was such a good mix, with the pleasure it came with. Minnie’s lovebites drew blood from your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

All you wanted was more: more of her, more of the fingers that filled you up, more of the hand that tapped your neck, silently grabbing you with possessiveness.

“D-don’t stop, oh fuck. Please never stop please I need this need this so bad I’ll” You were too drunk in pleasure to warn her you were about to cum.

With a high cry, you squirted, arching your back as you gushed all over Minnie’s fingers.

Instead of being grossed out, or even mad you hadn’t warned her like you’d expected, Minnie kissed your neck, pulling you in for a reassuring kiss.

“You look even more beautiful when you cum.” Her praise sent another wave of pleasure into your sensitive body.

You were shaking, thighs moving uncontrollably in hopes of escaping the vibrator that is still pressed to your pulsating clit.

Instead of removing the stimulation entirely, Minnie turned her toy into a quiet hum. You clenched, closing your legs as you arched your hips.

“Take it off.” You cried, breathing heavily. It was too much, your body felt on fire and you were still shaking and breathing heavily.

Surprisingly, Minnie listened to your plead. She pulled it away, forcing your legs open as she resumed her fingers’ movements into a gentle caress on your inner thighs.

“Can’t my doll give me one more?” She asked, kissing and running her teeth through your jawline. Your mind was still fuzzy, hazy from the strong orgasm she’d just given you, and tone was the same one she used to get everything she wanted. Sweet, gentle, and patient. “I’d give everything to see you do that one more time. Fuck, I’m so wet. You were so good for me…”

There was no way out of her trap.

All it took was a nod from you and Minnie was all over your body again. The dress you were in was made for ruining— or perhaps it was Minnie who was too aggressive, too fond of ripping stuff. She quickly got rid of the rest of your clothes, gripping your naked body with a content smile on her face.

“My perfect doll.” She murmured. “Our night is just starting.”

Somehow, you couldn’t wait for her to ruin you even more. You were her doll, after all.

—

“I told you! We always knew you’d nail it!” Chaewon bumped into you, laughing playfully as you stared at your final exam sheet. It had a 100% marked in red, along with a Congratulations :) Good Job you were almost certain that wasn’t written by your professor. “Now, summer break!”

As always, Yunjin's support came in a calmer, soothing way. She smiled just as brightly, moving your shoulders excitingly. “You did, Y/n! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, girls.” You told them smiling shyly as you supressed a shiver. There was an uncomfortable feeling crippling your skin, and you couldn't help but feel like you were being watched. After making sure no one was paying you or your friends any attention, you sighed. “I worked really hard for it.”

The three of you prepared to leave, trying to make your way among the hectic, noisy crowd of students eager to leave university after a full day of classes. You were so engulfed in your friend’s frenzy celebrations you failed to notice an attentive pair of eyes, following your every move through the open area.

Minnie stood idly against the glass floors a few floors above, waiting for you to get past the entryway before returning to her friends, at the cafeteria.

#s.writes #sol.writes #sol’s works #gidle smut #minnie smut #gidle minnie smut #minnie x reader #gidle x reader #gidle x y/n #gidle imagines

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ltwilliammowett · 11 hours ago

Note

What have they done? They're abolishing women's sex-based rights like the right to fair play in sports, single-sex rape crisis centres, single-sex medical care and the right to request a female for intimate services, single-sex bathrooms.... These have real impacts on women and girls health and wellbeing in real life, from girls stopping using the bathroom at school and getting UTIs, incarcerated women being raped and impregnated in prison by their cellmates, to women and girls losing thousands of dollars in scholarships and sporting awards.... This is because instead of adding trans-specific resources, like an additional universal bathroom for example, they are taking away the women's bathroom instead. These events are well documented in the news and women's rights organizations have been raising the alarm for years as trans identity gained traction with big pharma and opportunistic grifters alike. Please look into this honestly if you think any of this is far fetched. Women and girls deserve better. We need our sex-based rights, dignity and safety protected because misogyny has not yet been solved and eradicated from our societies. Of course trans people of both sexes also deserve humanity, safety, and to be treated like normal people. But not at the expense of the rights and protections that women and girls still need.

I was struggling whether to publish this here or not. And I decided to do it. Even if it will cause me even more problems and hate messages than it already did yesterday. No kidding my inbox has changed to the seventh circle of hell and this is not really how I envisioned my return. And as you know, I'm not political on my blog and don't want to be, so this will be my last public comment on the subject, especially as I find it hard to find the right words in english anyway, you know my problems with that. But into the thing:

What your statement begins and first and foremost implies is that you make all trans people out to be perverted monsters. That everyone, especially trans women, want nothing more than to discriminate against and harm women. And the way you write it says that everyone is like that and creates a fear that leads to mistrust and hatred. Yes, there are cases where it has led to harm, but you can't apply it to everyone. If a person/group/company wants to harm someone they will do it regardless of gender, colour, religion or other identity, society etc. A criminal should be punished, but by the courts and not by society.

As for the sport, you are talking about a few cases here and even then there are already approaches to a points system like the one in para sports. As for separate washrooms, gym, honestly, why? Do you also separate at home? Should there be a gender test before entering? And as for prisons, there is also a lot of violence and abuse among women themselves. So be careful with things like that.

It is incredibly difficult to find solutions, especially when it comes to special shelters like women's refuges. I see that too and I am also a woman who has experienced situations with men who have behaved in am agressiv, insulting manner. But we can not start to tar everyone with the same brush, that leads to fear and that in turn to irrational behaviour, statements and hatred. Individual cases are exaggerated and generalised and instrumentalised. And that leads to enormous problems and to activities that harm people and not just one group but ultimately everyone.

It just increases the division and divides people even more, regardless of gender, origin, etc. Talk to everyone and try to find a common denominator. Together we can find a solution, not against each other and not over others.

Women worldwide have much bigger problems and many have to deal with religious or government policies, but not because a trans person is in their area. These are such rare cases and can be dealt with. As I said above, talk together and find solutions together and fight against the rules that a religion or a government wants to impose on us.

#i am sure it will kill my blog

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queen-of-deans-booty · 2 days ago

Text

Misjudged

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: angst, car accident, getting hurt by car accident, almost dying, minor fluff at the end

Summary: A confrontation at a party sends you racing back home in anger. Dean follows behind you and watches the unthinkable happen. Now it’s up to him to save you.

Square Filled: enemies to lovers (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

Normally, you love a good party. You love getting loose and forgetting what a shitty week you’ve had, but tonight is different. You’re on a mission and you’re not going to stop until you get what you want. Luna called you twenty minutes ago crying because she wanted to get picked up, and you immediately rushed over at the thought that someone hurt your little sister. She’s newly eighteen but she shouldn’t have been at this party in the first place. She’s too nice and naive for her own good, so you do your best to look out for her.

Too many bodies litter the living room holding homemade drinks and joints, causing the room to stink of stale marijuana.

“Luna!!”

There's no point in yelling when the music is enough to deafen a person, but you still try in hopes she’s close enough to hear you. Once you get past the mosh pit, the room becomes more open with fewer people. On the other side of the room is one person who makes your blood boil in rage.

Dean Winchester.

Of course, he’d be here. Suddenly, the thought of Dean making your sister cry is the only thing you can think about so you stalk over to him. He’s playing pool against his friends and winning, but not for long. You swipe your hand over the pool table, messing up the balls and Dean’s shot.

“Hey!” Dean whips his head to face the culprit and smirks when he realizes it’s you. “Oh, hey, sweetheart. Come to play?”

You bring your open palm back and slap Dean across the face. His friends go still with shock, and Dean moves his jaw back and forth as he processes what just happened.

“How dare you bring Luna here after I told you not to!”

Dean sets his pool cue on the table but otherwise doesn’t react to you slapping him.

“How do you know it was me who brought her here?”

“You’re our neighbor, Dean. She heard you talking about the party and you offered to bring her here.”

“She wanted to come here, Y/N. I was already on my way when she asked me to drive her. I didn’t see the big deal.”

“The big deal is that this party is full of drugs and alcohol and men with granny hands.”

“Last I checked, she’s eighteen. She can think for herself.”

“Last I checked, she’s my family, not yours. Stay out of my goddamn life and out of my business. You don’t see me going to your house and bringing Sam here.”

Dean tips his head back and laughs. “Good luck trying to get Sam over here. This isn’t really his scene.”

“I don’t care. Don’t ever go near Luna again.”

“Damn, man, you need to have a drink. Unwind,” one of Dean’s friends comments.

You lunge toward his friend but Dean wraps his arms around your waist to prevent you from attacking. For a split second, you like having his arms around you. They feel strong and safe but then reality sets in and you push Dean off you.

“Let go of me. Where is Luna?”

“I don’t know. It's a big party.” Dean sees the glare on your face and fights back a smirk. “Relax. I saw her on the phone with you so I told Cas to give her a ride home.”

“Oh. Good.”

Castiel is a good guy so you’re relaxed at the thought of Luna being in his care. It’s the only part of Dean you tolerate. Castiel keeps him in check. With that, you turn on your heels and start to head toward the front door. Dean abandons his pool game to chase after you.

“Why don’t you stay?”

“Over my dead fucking body.”

You push through the crowd and leave out the front door. The ground crunches underneath your feet from how crispy the ice makes the grass. You press the button on your car which makes it unlock, and you sigh when you hear Dean still chasing after you.

“Wait, Y/N!”

“Leave me alone, Dean. Go away.”

“I don’t get why you hate me so much. What did I ever do to you?”

You spin on your heels to face him and he stops right before he collides with you.

“Hate you? No, I don’t hate you. You piss me the fuck off. Do you really think you can flash that smile of yours and call me sweetheart, and I’ll forget what an arrogant bastard you are? Not going to happen.” You open your car door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.”

“Wait. Let me drive you. It’s icy out there.”

“That’s nice of you to care, but I don’t need you, Dean.”

You get into your car and turn it on. Dean curses when you back out of the crowded driveway and start to drive away. What kind of friend man would he be if he let you drive off into the icy night?

Dean curses when he sees your tail lights disappearing around the corner, and he runs over to his shiny black Impala that he often catches you checking out. Wherever he goes, it’s a chick magnet but he only wants one chick in there.

You.

He leaves the party and follows you down the road, stepping on the pedal to keep up with you. He wouldn’t forgive himself if something happened while driving home, and he didn’t know about it.

Yes, the roads are icy and it’s dark in these mountains and your headlights don’t really work well, but you’re doing fine. There isn’t any ice that you can see so as long as you continue at the speed you’re at, you should get home safely.

Key word: should.

Your phone rings but instead of taking your eyes off the road to answer it, you blindly swipe the screen until the call connects. Before you can say anything, Dean’s deep voice comes through the phone.

“Slow the fuck down, Y/N.”

You look in the rearview mirror and see the sleek headlights belonging to the Impala right behind you. For some reason, you’re in a mischievous mood that wants to piss him off.

“You want me to slow down?”

Instead of doing what he wants, you press down the gas pedal.

“Y/N—”

“I know how to drive, Dean. I’ve been doing it since I was sixteen.”

“You’re going to fucking crash. Slow down.”

“Bite me,” you growl and hang up on him.

Just to piss him off, you go faster on the slippery mountain roads. You’re not going to admit this to Dean, but you’re kind of scared. With going downhill, you’re finding it harder to slow down. Your brakes work but the ice on the roads makes it hard for your tires to grip anything. Dean would only rub it in your face that he was right and you don’t want to hear it.

You’ve driven these roads all your life in worse conditions, but there’s something about this night that makes it more dangerous. The news has been warning residents of black ice on the roads, more so in the mountains than anywhere else.

Dean keeps a steady distance behind you which is a comfort because if something happens to you, at least you’ll be found. You press on the brakes only slightly but that causes your tires to swerve, and you grip the steering wheel with a deathly grip.

The deadliest part of black ice is that you don’t know you’ve hit it until it’s too late, and it’s too late for you. Your car starts skidding on the icy roads, and you try your best to get out of it by turning your wheel toward the direction the car is going in. That doesn’t seem to help, and your eyes widen when your headlights catch something.

A tree. You’re not wearing your seatbelt.

In the blink of a second, the front of your car smashes into the thick tree trunk, causing it to spin out of control. The side of your head smacks against the hard ridge of the window, and you lose your grip on the steering wheel as the car skids closer and closer to the cliff’s edge. You press down on the brake as hard as you can but that doesn’t seem to help.

Either you’re going to die by falling off the cliff or by plunging into the icy waters below. Your car comes to a stop right before you fall off the cliff’s edge, but the front half of the car is teetering over the edge. One false move and you're going to go over. You’re still-shocked and gripping the steering wheel with a deathly grip, afraid to let go. Tears roll down your cheek that mix with the blood coming from your forehead. Silence and then you hear his voice.

“Y/N?”

“Dean?” you cry.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.”

“I’m so scared,” you whimper.

“I’m right here. I’m not going to let you fall.” The back window was shattered when it hit the tree, so he is able to climb inside if he wanted to. “Can you get your seatbelt off?”

“I’m not wearing one.”

“Fuck. Okay, when I get you out, we’re going to have a serious conversation about proper car etiquette.”

The car starts to spin but Dean doesn’t say anything about it which makes you realize it’s your vision that’s spinning. Your head throbs in pain and black spots enter your vision.

“Dean, I hit my head. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetheart. I need you to stay awake for me, okay? Can you turn around?” With slow movements, you look back at Dean. He doesn’t shine the flashlight directly on your face but he can see the river of blood on your face. He’s fucking scared but if he starts to show it, you’ll start to panic. “I’m right here.”

Dean removes his jacket and lays it over the edge of the window where it broke to prevent glass from sticking to his skin. He keeps one leg on the ground and puts his other leg inside the car to get closer to you. He leans in as far as he can and stretches his hand out to you.

“Grab my hand and I’ll pull you out.”

“What if I fall over?”

“I won’t let that happen.”

Tears spring to your eyes at the thought of never seeing your family again. “Please tell my mom I love her. Tell Luna that too. Tell her I’m sorry.”

“Y/N, you’re going to be fine. Just grab my hand.”

“I’m scared,” you cry.

“I know you are but I need you to be brave right now, okay?” You nod shakily. “I can’t go any further so you’re going to have to climb over the seat. No sudden movements.”

You slowly rise and put both feet on the clothed seat. You grab the back of the seat and turn to Dean who is patient and calm. You know he’s freaking out so you appreciate him keeping a calm head. You sling your leg through the small gap over the center console and the car starts to sway lightly. You halt your movements and calm down when the car doesn’t fall over the edge.

You slowly lift your other leg over the center console but you step on one of your dogs’ toys that squeaks. Your foot slips and you slam into the back of the driver’s seat. The car immediately tips over and you jump to grab Dean’s hand. He pulls you out of the car just as it falls over the edge. You gasp and clutch onto his hand with a death grip because not only did the car go over the edge, but you did as well.

Dean is the only thing keeping you from certain death.

Dean uses his God-given strength and pulls you up from the edge and onto the safety of solid ground. You fall into his arms and cry, the adrenaline already starting to wear off.

“You’re okay,” Dean mutters. He strokes your hair to not only calm you but to calm himself. “You’re okay.” You pull away from him and he finally can see the damage done to your head. “You’re bleeding.”

“You saved me.”

He tucks a strand of bloody hair behind your ear. “I’ll always save you.”

You look down at his lips. Maybe it’s because of what just happened or maybe it’s because your emotions are all out of wack but you’re seeing Dean in a new light. As much as he wants to kiss you, you have more pressing matters.

“I’m not a doctor and you need to get that checked out. Come on.” He helps you to your feet and wraps a strong arm around you. “I’ll call your parents from the car.”

What would you have done if Dean didn’t follow you? How long would you have been out here for? Would you have died? He could have let you go off that cliff but he didn’t. Maybe you’ve misjudged him. Maybe, just maybe, he’s not as bad as you make him out to be.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fluff #supernatural angst

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linoxpudding · 3 days ago

Text

Kitchen Chaos - Seo Changbin

*gif credit goes to owner*

summary: cooking date doesn't go as planned, moral of the story? your boyfriend can't multitask, but he can definitely love you right

pairing: seo changbin x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 741 words

a/n: incorporated this request and this request for this fic, enjoy ♡

Masterlist

~°~

Cooking dinner with Changbin sounded like a dream. You had imagined soft background music, playful banter, and maybe even a little flour fight like in movies.

What you hadn't considered was that Changbin had the multitasking ability of a potato.

"Are you sure you can handle chopping the onions and stirring the sauce at the same time?" you ask, watching Changbin grip the knife like he's about to fight for his life.

He scoffs, rolling up the sleeves of his hoodie. "Babe, please. I can lift weights twice your size, rap at lightning speed, and make fire beats. I think I can handle—AHHH MY EYES."

You stifle a laugh as Changbin dramatically throws the knife down and rubs his eyes with his sauce-covered fingers.

"BINNIE, NO!!" you exclaim, grabbing his hands before he rubs spicy tomato sauce all over his face.

"I’M BLIND. THIS IS THE END."

"It's literally just onion," you giggle, guiding him toward the sink. "Here, rinse your hands first, pabo."

Changbin lets you take care of him, pouting as you dab his face with a towel. "This is why I lift, not cook."

You roll your eyes affectionately. "Cooking requires multitasking, which you suck at."

"I do NOT suck at multitasking," he grumbles.

"Really?" You smirk. "Then why is the sauce burning?"

"WHAT?!" Changbin yelps, spinning around so fast he nearly knocks over the cutting board. He rushes to the stove, frantically stirring the bubbling sauce. "No, no, no—babe, why didn’t you say anything sooner??"

"I was literally about to," you laugh, leaning against the counter. "I love how you act like it’s my fault."

He sighs, defeated. "Okay, maybe I can’t multitask. But!! I make up for it in other ways."

You tilt your head. "Like?"

Without a word, Changbin steps closer and pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping tightly around you. "Like giving the best cuddles," he murmurs against your hair.

You hum contentedly, letting yourself sink into his warmth. "That’s true," you admit. "Cuddling is your one true talent."

"Hey!" he protests, but you feel his chest vibrate with laughter. His hand starts rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Cooking is overrated anyway. Let's just order takeout and cuddle instead."

You laugh. "So you're giving up?"

"Not giving up—strategically retreating."

You roll your eyes, but the way he tightens his arms around you makes your heart melt. "Okay, okay, you don’t have to cook," you said between giggles. "Just be my taste tester."

His eyes lit up immediately. "Wait, so I get to eat without doing any of the work?"

"Yep."

He grabbed a chair and sat down so fast you swore you heard a whoosh of air. "Best. Plan. Ever."

"And you have to feed me."

"Obviously."

"And you have to cuddle me all night."

Changbin smirks, squeezing you tighter. "Babe, I was already planning on it."

---

By some miracle, dinner turned out fine, despite Changbin’s… contributions.

After eating, you both collapsed onto the couch, stomachs full and laughter lingering in the air. Changbin stretched his arms with a content sigh before opening them wide. "C’mere."

You didn’t need to be told twice. Crawling into his embrace, you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. His arms wrapped around you snugly, like a protective cocoon, and he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You know," you mumbled sleepily, "for someone who’s bad at multitasking, you’re really good at cuddling."

His chest rumbled with laughter. "That’s ‘cause cuddling only requires one skill—holding you close and never letting go."

Your heart melted. "Smooth, Seo Changbin. Very smooth."

Changbin grinned, his arms tightening around you as he tucked you even closer, his body heat instantly wrapping around you like a thick, cozy blanket.

For a few moments, the world outside faded. The only thing that mattered was the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest against yours, the soft hum he let out as he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

You turned your head slightly, just enough for his lips to meet yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It wasn’t rushed or demanding—just warm, like morning sunlight streaming through the window.

He pulled back barely an inch, his lips still ghosting over yours. "Mmm," he hummed, his voice all soft and lazy. "This is definitely my best skill."

You let out a breathy laugh, nudging your nose against his. "I can’t argue with that."

#skz x reader #stray kids texts #skz au #stray kids #stray kids au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #seo changbin x reader #seo changbin #seo changbin scenarios #changbin x reader #changbin imagines #changbin fluff #stray kids x reader #seo changbin fake texts

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sxprot · 2 days ago

Note

Can you please make Dandy x reader (romantic) headcanons? :0

I'm gonna embrace you again and again. Let your tears run free, let out your heart.

-----------------•☆

Author's Note: Sure...But I honestly don't know if it satisfies you. Is that what you wanted to ask...? Dear me, I get confused easily. You could request another if it isn't what you wanted, I will do it as compensation for my mistake.

Tw: bad grammar, ooc ig, ass writing

I hope u like it!! Have a great day too!

Dandy x Toon!reader (gn)

-----------

DANDY

It's no secret that he considers you as his favorite. Nearly everyone could see that from the way he treats you, from the time he gives you medkits, discounts,... You were aware of that, of course. But you never once comment on his behavior toward you, thinking of it as just a normal gesture between friends.

"Oh hello there, friends!" He perked up from the mere sight of you and your friends, returning to his shop.

He grew fond of you when you accepted to be his friend. When he's lonely, it's you who brightens his days up like a miracle. It's you that brings joy into his life.

You two would spend your days playing games, hopping around and being silly. Of course, you two are always close to each other, sticking with each other through thick and thin. It's always you that he would smile at, the charming smile that he would wear when you come in the elevator with your slightly beaten-up form

Despite the others asking why he would treat you differently, he would just smile, blithely saying that they're simply mistaken. Why would he do that? He sees everyone as friends, there are no silly things called favoritism, just them getting the wrong things inside their heads. Such blatant excuses that dare to slip out of his mouth...But actions always speak louder than words.

Although-! Dandy is a bit irritated when he gets ignored. He wants to be patient with you, for you to see that he does want the best for you during the ichor infection. He wants you to be safe, he sees you as a fragile and dainty little thing.

The way his face would twist when he saw you interacting with others, the close distance and the way you seemed so happy...Was he not enough? Supporting and helping you wasn't enough for little you?

And ah-! The flower would flinch when you asked him if he was alright, he simply just grinned and returned to his cheerful personality.

"Yes, I'm fine! How about you?"

But he wishes he could stop you from going. It pains him when he sees the one that he cherishes so much—getting hurt by Twisteds.

At last, Dandy is there in his shop, assisting everyone with items for their chance of survival. He has a glimpse of hope that someday this could end, despite how selfish he deems himself to be, he does want you to be happy along with the others.

Still, he watches everyone go, fending their own lives from the Twisted. He ponders about himself, the one that caused this mess.

Was he the true monster? And should he stay away from you? For the star of the show, he starts to question his choice, doubting if he really wants the best for you besides just putting everyone at risk, on the brim of death every day.

If sacrifice others are for his own happiness, does he really deserve your love? You certainly wouldn't like it when you're all alone with a monster.

(Alright, goodnight. I need rest before starting another request , i dont wanna bat my eyes on this anymore 😭😭💔)

#dandys world #dandy's world x reader #dandy x reader #dandy dandys world #dandys world x reader #headcanon #THIS IS SO FUCKING ASS.#Hey so I need sleep but I want to work too

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ineedmorevat7kinmylife · 3 days ago

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Little rant about Mabel Pines.

I know people have talked about how unfairly lots of GF fans treat Mabel, and how she's just 12 and Dipper's so mature we forget and you need to cut her some slack, but I want to talk about how both of them have the same maturity level, they just show it differently. Selfishness. This is one of the main reasons people get mad at Mable, because she acts selfish, and makes Dipper sacrifice things for her. There are four episodes where this is most prominent. The Time Traveler's Pig, The Deep End, Sock Opera, and Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future. The Time Traveler's Pig In this episode, Dipper time travels to ask Wendy out before Robbie can, and only finds one universe where it happens. Only problem: in that universe Mabel doesn't get the pig she won in the original timeline. Dipper lets Mabel keep the pig, sacrificing his "date" with Wendy. My problem with people calling Mabel selfish in this episode is that Dipper is the one being selfish. He's trying to change the timeline so he can ask out a girl he's not going to have a realistic shot at at this point in time. Mabel wants to keep the pig she rightfully won in the original timeline, and keep it out of Pacifica's hands, where it clearly doesn't want to be. (Also I doubt her parents would let her keep it)

The Deep End Mabel's new pool crush is really a merman who needs help getting back to his family. Mabel agrees, but her helping his jeopardizes Dipper's lifeguard job, which he wants to keep because he can hang out with Wendy. Dipper ends up giving up his job at the pool to help Mabel save the merman. Once again, Dipper acting selfish while Mabel gets blamed. Dipper isn't even actually doing his job as a lifeguard, he doesn't care about the potential money, or responsibility. He's actually really bad at the job. He and Wendy who are lifeguards, keep sneaking off to pull pranks and steal snacks. While Mabel is trying to save someone's life.

Sock Opera Now in this one, Mabel is genuinely being selfish. She prioritizes her sock opera over the thing she promised Dipper she would help him with. I'm including this here because I think this episode is where people really got the wrong impression of Mabel. And it's because Bill tells Dipper that she's been selfish and Dipper's had to sacrifice things for her. BILL IS MANIPULATING DIPPER!!!! Making him believe things that he wouldn't have thought otherwise to get him to do what he wants!!! He's appealing to Dipper's ego, trying to drive a wedge between the twins, because they're stronger together. It's the same thing he did to Ford. Stop trusting anything Bill says, take it all with a grain of salt.

Dipper and Mabel vs. the Future Ahh, the classic, Mabel-caused-the-apocalypse debate. Again, Bill = manipulator. He knows how to get you to do what he wants. Mabel didn't cause Weirdmaggedon. Bill did. If he had seen an opportunity, he would have done the same to Dipper. Now I'm not saying Mabel isn't selfish. She is sometimes. Like in Boyz Crazy. But I'm saying that it's not just Mabel. They're both selfish because they're 12. Also, Dipper: Your crush works at your house. You already spend a ton of time together. It could be way worse.

Mabel's role in the story Mabel has a major role in Dipper's life, and it isn't just because she's his twin. She is one of the few people that can get him to calm down and act like the kid he is. Dipper tries to be too mature. He's trying to grow up too fast. Mabel calms him down and gets him acting like a normal kid for once.

Dipper vs. Mabel smartness People have already mentioned that when Ford praises Dipper for his additions to the journal, he opens to the page with the gnomes, which is something Mabel figured out, and how that shows Ford underestimates her.

But I think Mabel is way smarter than we give her credit for. She figures things out that Dipper doesn't all the time!

"Dipper, it's the vending machine!"

Anyway: my point is that Dipper and Mabel are both 12, and are immature and mature at different times depending on the situation. They just go about it differently. Also: the story is more from Dipper's POV so it might be a little biased.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #character analysis #I'm sick of mabel slandar

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msklassickilla · 2 days ago

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Delirious | J. Uso|R. Reigns Ten

Summary: When Titania buys an old typewriter from a closing thrift store, she thinks it’s just a vintage gem—until the words she types start coming true. However, the typewriter doesn’t just bring fantasies to life—it twists them. Giving Titania way more than she bargained for.

Pairing: Titania Marshall (Black OC) x Jey Uso x Roman Reigns

Author’s Note: This story is another AU thing. So, it might align, or it might not. I will try my best to keep it current enough. Nonetheless, it’s mash up of a few things: That one episode of Goosebumps. That one episode of the Twilight Zone. And that movie by the same title, Delirious featuring John Candy. I’ma make it work. Plus, I like mystical spooky shit with a bit of Jerry Springer type mess.

Warning(s): SMUT incoming. Some minor harsh language. A smidge of toxic behavior.

Disclaimer: This work of art is fictional in nature including the original characters created by me. I do not own any of the existing characters or lyrics from songs referenced in this story (if any). All rights belong to their respective owners with the exception of my original characters. This work is purely for entertainment purposes and is not intended to cause harm.

Ten

Titania sat on the couch, staring at the muted television, barely registering the flickering images on the screen. The house was quiet now. Jey had left for the airport that morning, kissing her goodbye with his usual warmth, promising to call her later. It was supposed to be comforting, knowing she had a few days to herself, a chance to clear her mind. Instead, she felt untethered.

There were only two weeks left until the move. Two weeks until she packed up everything and left behind the life she had built before all of this. Before Jey. Before the typewriter. Before everything shifted. She should be excited. She had written this future. She had wanted it.

Then why did she feel like she was walking into something she couldn’t escape?

Titania leaned forward, rubbing her temples. She just needed to shake it off. Find a routine. Get back to the version of herself that existed before she started rewriting everything. Maybe she’d go out today. Get some fresh air. Do something normal.

Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She glanced down, expecting Jey or Naomi, but the name on the screen made her stomach clench.

Tamya (FaceTime Call)

Titania exhaled sharply, guilt curling tight in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to her sister in weeks. The last time they talked was before she bought the typewriter, before her entire world rearranged itself into something unrecognizable. She had been avoiding her, just like she had been avoiding her parents.

But Tamya wasn’t like their mother and father. Their parents would be disappointed, but Tamya would be mad as this wasn’t like her at all. Titania forced herself to answer. The moment her sister’s face filled the screen, she knew she had been right.

"Girl," Tamya’s voice was sharp, her expression pinched with irritation. "Why am I hearing from Mia that you’re moving to Florida? Is this what we doing now? Keeping secrets?"

Titania’s stomach dropped.

She should have known Mia would say something. Her best friend had always been loose-lipped, but Titania had rewrote things, made her someone who believed in their relationship. It hadn’t occurred to her that Mia hadn’t been rewritten enough to keep secrets.

Titania scrambled for an excuse. "I—I wanted to tell you myself."

Tamya’s eyes narrowed. "And when exactly were you gonna do that? After you moved? What the hell is going on with you? This ain’t like you."

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Titania lied, though she could hear how weak it sounded.

"A surprise?" Tamya’s brows shot up. "Titania, this is your whole damn life! You don’t make decisions like this without telling your family especially me.”

Titania swallowed, feeling the heat of shame spread up her neck.

"You never kept secrets from me, T," Tamya continued, her voice softer now, but no less firm. "Not even from Mom and Dad, but especially not from me. You always told me everything."

Titania’s throat tightened. She knew Tamya was right. Before Jey, before the typewriter, before all of this, she had always confided in her big sister. Tamya was the person she trusted the most, the one who knew her better than anyone.

But what could she even say?

That she had written herself into a different life? That she was losing track of what was real and what wasn’t? That she was terrified of what was to come because things hadn’t really been working out in the way she wanted but she didn’t know how to fix it.

She couldn’t say any of that.

"I just didn’t want to deal with everyone freaking out," Titania said, grasping for anything that might calm her sister down.

Tamya’s expression remained unreadable for a moment before she sighed, shaking her head. "Mama and Daddy are gonna lose it when they find out. And I swear, T, if you think you’re gonna blindside them with this, you got another thing coming."

Titania’s pulse spiked. "You’re not gonna tell them, are you?"

Tamya folded her arms, studying her carefully. "With the way you been moving? I should."

"Tamya, please," Titania whispered. "I’ll tell them soon. Just… not yet. I still got things to get in order."

Her sister exhaled, tapping her nails against her arm before nodding. "Fine. For now. But you need to get your shit together." Her voice softened again, worry replacing the irritation. "This isn’t like you. Not calling, keeping secrets, making huge life changes out of nowhere. Something’s not right with you, T."

Titania’s chest tightened.

Tamya didn’t know how true that was.

"I’m fine," she lied.

Tamya didn’t believe her, but she didn’t press. She just sighed again. "Just… don’t forget who you are, okay?"

Titania forced a small smile. "I won’t."

Tamya gave her one last long look before hanging up. The screen went dark, leaving Titania staring at her own dim reflection. She set the phone down slowly, pressing her fingers against her temples.

Her sister was right.

She wasn’t herself anymore.

Before Jey, before the typewriter, she had been Titania Marshall. Daughter of Teedria and Gary Marshall. Little sister to Tamya and Kenneth Marshall.

So why did she feel like that person was slipping away?

Her gaze flickered toward the spare room, where the typewriter sat packed away in its box. The thought creeped in before she could stop it. Maybe she didn’t have to lose herself. Maybe she could just… adjust a few things.

Titania shoved the thought away, shaking her head. No. She wasn’t doing that again.

She just needed to figure out how to get back to being who she was without losing Jey in the process. Without letting Roman pull her into something she didn’t understand. Without making things worse.

----

Titania tried to fall back into her normal routine, but normal didn’t exist anymore. She went through the motions—waking up, making coffee, checking emails, answering a few messages—but nothing felt the same. Nothing felt like hers.

Her phone was constantly lighting up. Jey sending her videos from the gym, sweaty and grinning like he wasn’t thousands of miles away. Naomi checking in, reminding her how excited she was for Titania to move down. It was all sweet, thoughtful—everything she could’ve wanted.

But the more she saw those messages, the more she realized her old life was slipping away.

She wanted both.

Her old life. Her new life. The independence she had before. The love she had now. But could she even have both?

The thought made her chest feel tight, her stomach twisting with something restless. She needed to get out of her own head. Needed to do something.

Her phone buzzed beside her. A FaceTime call.

Jey.

Titania exhaled, grabbing her phone. She forced a smile as she answered, pushing everything else to the back of her mind.

Jey grinned at her, his background showing a hotel room. He looked relaxed, fresh from a shower, a towel draped around his shoulders. “Damn, you look good. You miss me yet?”

Titania let out a soft laugh, despite the knot in her stomach. “I don’t know. It’s been kinda nice having the house to myself.”

Jey scoffed, shaking his head. “Lies. You probably been walking around in my T-shirts all day, wishing I was there.”

Titania rolled her eyes, warmth blooming in her chest despite everything. This was her normal. Jey. The conversation drifted to his match, his workout, what he had for dinner. He always liked keeping her updated, knowing she was invested in the details of his life.

“How’s everything over there?” he asked, leaning back against the pillows.

Titania hesitated, fingers gripping the phone a little tighter. “Good. Just getting things together for the move. Nothing crazy.”

Jey’s expression softened. “Yeah? You excited?”

Titania nodded. “Yeah. I am.”

And she meant it. She just didn’t know which part of her was excited anymore.

They talked for another fifteen minutes before Jey started dozing off mid-conversation, his exhaustion catching up to him. Titania smiled as he mumbled a soft "Love you," before hanging up.

She set the phone down, staring at the dark screen. Jey was her future. She had written this life, created it. She wasn’t going to let it slip away. But as the quiet settled in around her, the unease crept back in.

She found herself grabbing her laptop, her fingers moving before she could talk herself out of it. Titania started searching for the old thrift store. The place where she had bought the typewriter. The place that no longer existed.

She scoured the internet, looking up the store’s name, the address—anything that might lead her to information about the old man who sold it to her. But there was nothing.

No business listings. No past reviews. No evidence that it had ever been there.

Titania’s fingers stilled over the keyboard, unease settling deep in her stomach. She leaned back against the couch, staring at the screen. Her heart pounded in her ears. This didn’t make sense. There was no way a store could just vanish without a trace.

She was about to close the tab when a search result caught her eye. It wasn’t about the thrift store. But the title made something in her chest tighten.

"Reality Shifting: The Science of Unseen Worlds."

She clicked without thinking.

The page loaded, revealing an old blog. The background was dark, tiny constellations scattered across the top like a map of forgotten stars. The entries spanned years, some dated as far back as a decade ago, the author only posting sporadically, as if they wrote only when they had something urgent to say.

Titania’s pulse quickened as she skimmed through the opening paragraphs. The blog wasn’t just about shifting realities. It was about rewriting them.

Her breath caught in her throat as she read further.

The author spoke of dimensions layered on top of each other, stacked like pages in a book. Most people only ever existed in one version of their story. But sometimes—rarely, dangerously—those pages could be rewritten.

The symptoms of a "rewritten reality" were listed out carefully, methodically, like someone had studied them for years.

Sudden changes in relationships, even with people you’ve known for years.

Objects appearing in your home that you don’t remember buying.

People knowing things about you that never actually happened.

A growing sense of unease, like you’re losing control of your own story.

Titania felt the blood drain from her face. This wasn’t paranoia. This wasn’t stress. This was real.

Her chest rose and fell in slow, measured breaths, her mind racing. She scrolled further, searching for anything that might help. A passage buried deep within an old post caught her attention.

"A rewritten reality cannot be erased. It can only be reshaped. One cannot go back—only forward. But to move forward, one must first decide: What is the true story?"

Titania’s breath shuddered. The true story. She stared at the words, rereading them over and over. If she couldn’t erase what had happened, maybe she could… blend it.

Maybe she could make both lives—the one she had and the one she had written—exist together.

Maybe she could have everything.

Titania snapped her laptop shut, a decision settling heavy in her chest. She stood, moving toward the spare room, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The typewriter sat on the desk, waiting. Her fingers trembled as she reached for it, hovering over the keys.

This time, she didn’t hesitate.

She started to type.

"Can you blend both of my realities?"

The moment she pressed the last key, the typewriter responded. Words appearing right after hers.

"Is that what you desire?"

Titania swallowed, her throat dry. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself before she typed again.

"Yes. I desire to blend both realities into one."

The machine was silent. Then words appeared in response.

"Good."

She let out a shaky breath, relief flooding her chest. But just as she was about to pull away, another message appeared.

"The past and future have been blended. Her story has changed."

Titania read the words carefully, slowly, letting them settle. The answer wasn’t ominous. It was good news. She had done the right thing.

She could have it all now. Then why did she still feel like something was still amiss?

----

For the first time in weeks, Titania felt normal. She wasn’t questioning what was real. She wasn’t obsessing over the typewriter. She wasn’t being consumed by thoughts she couldn’t control.

Everything felt… balanced. Jey was texting and calling as usual. Naomi was checking in, excited about them growing closer. She had managed to called her parents, her brother, even Mia. Everyone knew now. The haze she had been trapped in for weeks had lifted. She had both worlds now. And it was good.

Titania stood in the spare room, staring at the packed-up typewriter. She had done it. Her old life, her new life—merged. No more rewriting. No more questioning. She had gotten what she wanted. She was happy. Wasn’t she?

She inhaled deeply, pushing the thought away. She had a work meeting soon, and she wasn’t about to let her mind spiral when things were finally going right. This was what she had been fighting for. A life with Jey, a love she had dreamed of, without losing everything she had before.

Her laptop was already open on the desk when she sat down, logging into the virtual meeting. The familiar faces of her colleagues appeared one by one, grounding her in something solid. Despite everything that had changed, she still had this—her job, her career, her independence. She listened, took notes, nodded at the right moments, forcing herself to focus.

Then her phone vibrated.

She glanced at it quickly, expecting Jey or Naomi, but the name on the screen made her stomach clench. Roman.

Titania froze. She hadn’t given him her number. Had she? And she wasn’t supposed to have his. Her throat felt dry as she stared at the screen. The meeting continued, voices droning in the background, but she no longer heard them. The phone vibrated again. Another message. She forced herself to ignore it, her fingers curling into fists. It didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to entertain this. She had fixed things.

But as soon as the meeting ended, her resolve cracked.

Her hands moved before she could stop them, grabbing the phone, unlocking it. The first message was simple.

"Jey gave me your new number. Why did you change it? Anyway, did you get the bracelet? I thought you would at least tell me you got it."

A slow, creeping unease spread through her.

Jey gave him her number? That wasn’t right. Why would he? And the bracelet—Titania hadn’t even touched it since the day it arrived. It sat in its box, tucked away in her jewelry drawer. But Roman remembered sending it and was expecting confirmation.

Her fingers tightened around the phone. If she ignored this, it wouldn’t continue. If she ignored it, maybe whatever past Roman thought they had would be forgotten.

Another vibration. Incoming call—Roman.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Panic surged through her, and without thinking, she threw the phone across the room. It landed on the carpet with a soft thud, the ringing silenced. She pressed a hand to her chest, her heartbeat erratic. She shouldn’t have reacted like that. But why did it feel like she had been caught? Why did he feel like something she couldn’t outrun?

Minutes passed before she worked up the nerve to retrieve the phone. A voicemail icon waited for her. She should delete it. Pretend it never happened. Her thumb hovered over the screen, hesitating—then she tapped play.

Roman’s voice came through the speaker, deep and smooth, too familiar.

"We need to talk, sweetheart. Call me back."

Titania’s stomach tensed.

Not Titania. Not Tee. Sweetheart.

She swallowed, but it didn’t ease the tightness in her throat. He had said it like they had always been like this. Like this wasn’t new. Like she already agreed to whatever this was to him. A shiver crawled up her spine, but something else tangled with it, something she refused to name.

----

“Baby, what are you doing down there?”

She turned toward the doorway, still gripping her phone like a lifeline, as Jey dropped his bags and gave her an easy smile.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out.

She could still hear Roman’s voice in her head, smooth and steady through the voicemail. We need to talk, sweetheart. The heat of it was still clinging to her skin, the weight of something she didn’t want to acknowledge pressing down on her.

She fumbled for an excuse. “I—uh, I was just looking for something.”

Jey cocked his head slightly, his brows drawing together. “Everything okay?”

Titania forced herself to move, to push off the floor and cross the room toward him. She tucked her phone behind her back as she reached him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his chest.

Jey hesitated for a second before his arms circled her, his body warm and solid against hers. “Damn,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly. “Missed me that much?”

Titania shut her eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of his cologne, grounding herself. This is what’s real. Not the message. Not the lingering temptation curling around her thoughts like an unwanted guest. Jey was here. Jey was hers.

“I just wasn’t expecting you this early,” she whispered, tightening her hold on him.

Jey smiled against her hair. “Caught an early flight.” His hands slid up and down her back, soothing, possessive. “Told you I’d be home before you knew it.”

Titania swallowed, nodding against his chest. She wouldn’t think about the message. She wouldn’t ask him about giving Roman her number. Not now.

Jey pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up. “Come on, let’s go out.”

Titania blinked. “Go out?”

“Yeah.” His lips quirked. “Movie night. You and me. Remember?”

Titania felt something loosen in her chest. A date night. A normal night. Exactly what she needed.

She nodded, managing a small smile. “Okay. Let me get ready. I had forgot all about our date.”

Jey kissed her forehead before stepping back, grabbing his bags. “I mean I can go to the movies by myself, girl,” he joked, heading toward the bedroom. “I’ll date me if you won’t.”

Titania let out a small laugh, shaking her head as she followed after him. She had to hold onto this.

----

The movie theater was perfect. Dim lighting, plush seats, a full menu that made it feel more like a private dining experience than a typical night at the movies. This was exactly what Titania had always wanted—date nights with Jey, little pockets of time where the outside world didn’t exist. And for the most part, it worked.

Jey was completely relaxed, stretched out beside her with one arm draped over the back of her seat, the other reaching for his food. He made her laugh between bites, whispering jokes and little comments about the film, his fingers tracing absentminded circles against her shoulder.

Titania wanted to get lost in it. She wanted to forget about everything else. But the peace shattered the moment she stepped into the bathroom.

She had only been in there for a minute, washing her hands, when her phone vibrated inside her purse. The sound barely registered at first—until she glanced down at the screen.

Roman.

A chill curled down her spine. Her first instinct was to ignore it. She had done it before. She could do it again. But the buzzing stopped. A message appeared.

Her stomach clenched. Slowly, Titania reached for her phone, swiping to open the text.

“You looked beautiful tonight. Shame you’re wasting it.”

The breath left her lungs. Her head snapped up, eyes darting around the bathroom as if he could be standing right there. But she was alone. He wasn’t here. He couldn’t be. Then she remembered. The Instagram story. It had been so small, so insignificant. Just a simple mirror selfie of her outfit before they left, posted without thinking. And then later, a quick boomerang of the drinks at the theater, Jey’s arm barely in frame. That was it. That was all.

She gripped the edge of the sink, her pulse hammering.

This was too much. He knew too much. How did he know her Instagram handle? She hadn’t even thought that was possible. But somehow, he had been watching.

Titania inhaled sharply, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t let this get to her. She had made her choice. She was with Jey.

She needed to prove it.

Steadying herself, she turned off the faucet, squared her shoulders, and stepped out of the bathroom. Jey was waiting for her in the lobby, his back to her as he scrolled through his phone.

Titania forced a smile as she reached him, slipping her arms around his waist. Jey grinned, tucking his phone away and kissing the side of her head. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice even.

She wouldn’t think about the message. She wouldn’t think about Roman. The drive home was quiet at first, Jey humming along to the music while Titania stared out the halfway down window, trying to sort through the storm in her head. But the more she tried to push the thoughts away, the more restless she became.

She needed to replace them.

She needed to fill the space with Jey.

Titania shifted in her seat, rubbing her palms against her thighs, her heart pounding for an entirely different reason now. She turned toward Jey, her gaze flickering over him. He was focused on the road, his jaw sharp in the dim glow of the dashboard, his hands loose on the wheel.

She reached over, sliding a hand over his thigh.

Jey’s brows lifted slightly. “What you doin’ over there?”

Titania bit her lip. “Pull over.”

Jey glanced at her, amused. “What?”

“Just… pull over,” she repeated, nodding toward a small, wooded area off the side of the road.

Jey hesitated but eventually obliged, steering the car onto the dirt path and parking under the cover of the trees. The engine cut, leaving them in silence.

“Tee, what’s—”

Before he could finish, Titania was climbing over the console, her dress riding up as she settled herself in his lap. Jey’s eyes widened, his hands instinctively gripping her hips.

“Tee—”

She silenced him with a kiss, fierce and desperate. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. She needed this. Needed him.

Jey groaned into her mouth, his hands sliding up her thighs, and she could feel the moment he stopped questioning her. He kissed her back with equal intensity, his grip tightening as she ground against him.

“Jey,” she whispered against his lips, her voice breathless. “I need you. I need it.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands found the hem of her dress, pulling it up and over her head. She was left in nothing but her bra and panties, the cool night air brushing against her skin. Jey’s eyes darkened as he took her in, his hands roaming over her curves.

“Damn, Tee,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “What’s got into you?”

The words sent a wave of heat through her, and she reached for his belt, fumbling slightly in her haste. Jey chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made her ache.

“Easy,” he said, but his own hands weren’t exactly steady as he helped her free him from his jeans.

When they were finally skin to skin, Titania let out a shaky breath. She could feel the hardness of him pressing against her, and it only fueled her desperation.

“Tell me what you want,” Jey murmured, his lips trailing down her neck.

“You,” she gasped, her hips rocking against him. “I just want you.”

Jey’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her as she sank down onto him. The stretch was exquisite, and she threw her head back with a moan. Jey’s groan matched hers, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as he adjusted to the feel of her.

They moved together; the rhythm slow at first but quickly building. Titania’s hands braced against his chest, her nails digging into his skin as she rode him. Jey’s hands were everywhere—on her hips, her ass, her waist—pulling her closer, deeper.

“Jey,” she whimpered, her voice breaking. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he growled, his grip tightening as he thrust up into her.

The sensation was overwhelming, and Titania felt herself spiraling closer to the edge. Her breath came in short, jagged gasps, her body trembling with the force of her pleasure.

“Fuck, Tee,” Jey groaned, his hands gripping her ass as he spanked her, the sharp sound echoing in the small space of the car.

The sting only heightened her arousal, and she cried out, her body clenching around him. Jey cursed, his hips stuttering as he followed her over the edge. They stayed like that for a moment, both of them breathless and shaking. Titania’s forehead rested against Jey’s, her heart still racing.

She should have felt satisfied. She should have felt grounded. But she didn’t. Jey’s arms tightened around her, his lips pressing against her forehead, completely lost in her.

“Tee,” he murmured, voice still wrecked, still clinging to the moment. “You ain’t never been like that before. I like that shit.”

Titania swallowed, pressing closer, burying her face in his neck.

Maybe I needed it.

Jey’s fingers skimmed her back, slow, lazy. “What’s mine is mine, right?”

Titania exhaled shakily, nodding. “Right.”

Jey hummed in satisfaction, his grip on her just a little tighter. She closed her eyes. She needed to hold onto this. She needed to believe it.

----

Titania was exhausted, but Jey wasn’t done with her yet.

They barely made it inside before he was pulling her back into his arms, his lips trailing over her skin, his hands gripping her like he was trying to burn himself into her. His passion had always been fierce, but tonight? Tonight, it was insatiable.

Titania let him take what he wanted, let herself give in, let him remind her that she belonged to him. Only him.

She needed this.

Needed to drown out the whisper of Roman’s voice. Needed to erase the way her body had tensed at his text, at the message she never sent.

Jey tangled his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back, murmuring against her lips. “Say it.”

Titania shivered, her breath hitching. “I’m yours.”

Jey groaned, satisfied. “Damn right you are.”

And he made sure she knew it.

----

The house was quiet.

Titania lay in Jey’s arms, his warmth pressed against her, his breathing deep and even. She should have been asleep. She should have felt safe, at peace.

But something wasn’t right.

She swore she had heard it—faint, just on the edge of her consciousness. A sound that didn’t belong.

Click. Click. Click.

Her body tensed. She held her breath, listening. The room was still, the faint hum of the AC the only thing breaking the silence. Jey didn’t stir. He was deep in sleep, completely unaware. But then she heard it again.

Click. Click. Click.

Titania’s stomach twisted. That wasn’t possible. She packed the typewriter away. Didn’t she?

Carefully, she slid out of Jey’s embrace, barely breathing as she pulled herself from the bed. The hardwood was cool against her bare feet as she crept toward the door, her pulse a steady, suffocating drum in her ears.

The hallway stretched before her, dark and unmoving. But the sound was coming from the spare room.

Titania hesitated.

She should turn around. Climb back into bed. Pretend she heard nothing. But her feet carried her forward anyway. The door to the spare room was cracked open. A sliver of light stretched across the floor. Titania pressed a shaking hand against the wood, pushing it open further, her breath lodged in her throat.

Her knees nearly gave out.

The typewriter sat on the desk. It wasn’t in the box. It was back in its place. Waiting.

And a new message had been typed. Titania’s chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths as she stepped forward, her legs barely supporting her weight.

The words on the page made her skin crawl.

"Blending your worlds did not change the fate that awaits you."

Titania covered her mouth, a strangled sound escaping her throat.

No. This couldn’t be. She had fixed things. She had said what she wanted and didn’t want.

But the typewriter— the typewriter was always one step ahead.

----

The next morning, Jey kissed her lazily before heading to the gym, leaving Titania in bed with a lingering ache in her body and a storm in her mind.

She needed air.

She needed clarity.

But what she got instead was Roman.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. FaceTime. Titania’s heart stopped. She knew who it was before she even looked.

Roman.

She shouldn’t answer. She should ignore him. But she didn’t. With trembling fingers, she slid her thumb over the screen.

Roman’s face filled the display, his expression easy, familiar, like nothing about this was strange.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

Titania swallowed. “Roman…”

His eyes flickered over her face, reading her like an open book. “Been ignoring me.”

Titania forced a breath. “I’ve been busy.”

He hummed, unconvinced. “That right?”

Titania didn’t know how to respond. There was something too steady, too knowing in his expression, like he was waiting for her to slip.

She straightened. “Why did you send me that bracelet?”

Roman’s brows lifted slightly. “You don’t remember?”

Titania stiffened. He wasn’t playing with her. He wasn’t teasing. He was genuinely confused why she didn’t remember why.

Titania’s breath grew unsteady. “Roman… I don’t know what you think we had, but—”

Something shifted in his expression.

For the first time, he looked hurt.

“How could you forget?” His voice was quiet, edged with something Titania couldn’t name. “I don’t—I don’t understand. We were—” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply, shaking his head like he was trying to steady something inside himself.

Titania opened her mouth, ready to demand answers, ready to piece together what reality he thought they had.

But before she could speak, the front door opened.

Jey.

Titania’s body snapped to attention. Panic surged through her, her heart hammering as she quickly hung up.

The room felt too small, too charged.

Jey’s voice carried through the house. “Tee?”

Titania fumbled to put the phone down, trying to shake the weight of the conversation. “Yeah, I’m in here!”

Jey appeared in the doorway, his gym bag slung over his shoulder, his expression easy—until he really looked at her.

Something shifted.

His eyes flickered over her, reading the tension in her shoulders, the way she was holding herself too still.

His jaw tensed. “Who was that?”

Titania’s breath hitched.

Jey’s gaze dropped to the phone on the bed. He exhaled, running a hand down his face. “It was Hakeem, wasn’t it?”

Titania’s stomach dropped. She blinked. “What?”

Jey scoffed, shaking his head. “I fucking knew it. Knew I ain’t like that dude. And now you sneakin’ around—”

“Jey—”

“Don’t,” he snapped. His face darkened, something raw flashing behind his eyes. Something possessive. “Just tell me the truth. You fucking him, Titania?”

Titania stared at him, her pulse erratic. He didn’t suspect Roman. He had no idea. And somehow, that made this worse.

Before she could speak, her phone vibrated again. Jey glanced at it, his anger already simmering. Titania barely had time to react before he grabbed it off the bed and hurled it across the room. The sharp crack of it shattering against the wall made Titania flinch.

Her heart was pounding, her entire body locked in place. “Jey—”

“I’m out,” Jey muttered, shaking his head, his breathing ragged. “I’m done with this shit.”

Titania’s throat was dry. “It’s not what you think—”

Jey’s jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

He turned, storming out.

Titania barely registered the sound of the front door slamming shut.

Then—

The typewriter.

Titania heard it before she saw it. That familiar clacking of keys. Her stomach twisted violently.

She turned, her feet moving on their own, her breath shallow as she stepped into the spare room. The typewriter sat on the desk, waiting.

The paper was fresh.

A new message.

"He's always been this way. But for her, he'll only get worse."

Titania’s knees buckled and she crashed to the floor.

No.

No, this wasn’t what she asked for.

This wasn’t what she meant. But it was too late. The story was shaping into something she didn’t like. And she knew deep down she couldn’t stop it.

----

Read Chapter 11... (coming soon)

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