#if warmth and comfort was a scene this is it

[livebeforeyoulearn]

Touch You Softly

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: A soft, fleeting encounter of stargazing with a stranger.

-

The night is cold, biting, with winter's chill clinging to the air, but somehow you’ve ended up on the beach, surrounded by the warmth of friends and the soft glow of a bonfire. The flames crackle and snap, sending sparks into the air, which disappear against the backdrop of a starless sky. You pull your jacket tighter around you, feeling the sand shift beneath you as you sit close to the fire. Your friend, ever considerate, sits beside you while the rest of the group is scattered around – dancing, laughing, and sharing drinks. Their joy is palpable, the kind that comes with alcohol and carefree moments. But you? You’ve never been the type to drink or throw yourself into the wild abandon of nights like these. You’re content to watch from the sidelines, the quiet observer in a scene of chaos.

Your friend, aware of your tendency to withdraw, has stayed with you, perhaps out of solidarity, perhaps because they know you’d prefer not to be left alone. You appreciate it, even though neither of you says much. The silence between you is companionable, the kind that doesn’t demand filling. From your vantage point, you can see everything, every detail of the evening. Your eyes, sharp and observant, catch sight of a group of women walking towards your friends. They’re laughing, their voices blending into the wind that blows in from the sea, and they’re dressed for the cold in thick jackets, scarves, and beanies. You can almost feel the contrast between the warmth of the fire and the bitter cold beyond its reach.

One of your more intoxicated friends notices them first, stumbling forward with an exaggerated wave, calling out an invitation to join. You cringe inwardly at the slurred enthusiasm but watch as the women react. Some of them hesitate, exchanging glances, but three of them move forward, accepting the offer with grateful smiles. They integrate themselves into the circle with ease, accepting drinks and joining in the chatter, their laughter soon mingling with the rest. They’re friendly, easygoing, the kind of people who blend in anywhere. The group around the fire swells with new energy, and soon the air is filled with louder conversations, the rhythmic beat of feet dancing in the sand, and the clinking of bottles. 

But not all of them have joined in. Across from you, a couple of women sit off to the side, much like you and your friend, preferring the quiet to the noise. They talk softly between themselves, their words indistinct over the crackling fire and the sea’s low roar. It’s then that you notice her. One of the women, sitting slightly apart, bundled in a puffer jacket with a beanie pulled low over her ears. She looks cold, hunched into herself, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, her knee bouncing as if trying to generate warmth. The firelight flickers across her face, and though the distance between you makes it hard to see her features clearly, there’s something about her that draws your gaze. Even from here, she looks stunning – otherworldly, almost. Her hair spills over her shoulder, caught in the occasional gust of wind, and she occasionally squints, her face contorting against the heat of the flames.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, the warmth of the fire reflected in the warmth you feel just watching her. She looks thoughtful, her attention shifting between the fire, the waves lapping at the shore, and her friends, but she doesn’t join in with the group. Much like you, she seems content to remain on the periphery, to observe rather than participate. It’s comforting, in a way, to know that you’re not the only one who prefers the quiet moments, the subtle joys of watching rather than doing.

Your breath catches in your throat when her eyes finally land on you. It’s a brief, fleeting glance, one that you’re sure she hadn’t intended to linger. But then, as if realising something, she looks back. This time, the moment stretches out, her gaze locking with yours across the fire. You feel rooted in place, your heart picking up a rhythm that surprises you. Her expression is unreadable, but there’s a softness in the way she looks at you, a curiosity maybe. Before you can process it, her eyes drop to the sand, her face turning thoughtful, as if she’s considering something. Still, you can’t look away. There’s something about her presence that captivates you, something unspoken hanging in the space between you.

When she looks up again, it’s with purpose. She tilts her head subtly, nodding toward a darker part of the beach, away from the fire and the crowd. You follow her gesture with your eyes, trying to figure out what she means, and then it hits you. She’s asking you to follow her. 

You glance back at her and nod, your own heart giving a nervous flutter. She rewards you with a soft, almost shy smile. You quickly turn to your friend, mumbling an excuse that barely registers, and when they don’t seem to notice or care, you stand, your movements almost mechanical, spurred on by an invisible force. 

As you start walking away from the fire, you sense her moving as well. Neither of you rushes, your paths gradually converging until you’re side by side, walking along the darkened shoreline. The soft crunch of sand beneath your shoes and the distant echo of the waves fill the silence between you. There’s no need for words right now, no pressure to break the stillness. You don’t know her, and she doesn’t know you, but that’s okay. 

You can feel the pull of something unspoken between you, a shared understanding that words might only complicate. You both seem to enjoy the quiet, the simple act of walking side by side as the noise of the bonfire and your friends fades into the background, leaving just the two of you, the sea, and the stars that have begun to peek through the clouds above.

The sand feels cold beneath you as you settle beside her, both of you sitting just close enough for the proximity to feel intimate, but not intrusive. You glance at her, feeling a strange, fluttering sensation in your stomach. She looks calm, her gaze fixed on the sea in front of her, and you feel a pull to say something, to break the silence that has settled so comfortably between you. 

“Why aren’t you enjoying yourself?” you ask, your voice soft, careful not to disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

She turns to you, a small, delicate smile spreading across her face, and it takes your breath away. It’s a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s warm enough to make your heart stutter. “What makes you think I’m not?” she asks, her tone light, almost teasing.

“You were sitting alone,” you reply, your words tentative, not wanting to overstep. There’s a vulnerability in saying it, in admitting that you noticed her, that you’d been watching.

She raises an eyebrow, the teasing glint in her eyes now unmistakable. “You were too,” she points out, her voice lilting, playful in a way that makes your lips twitch in response.

You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, the kind that isn’t from the fire. You hesitate for a moment, then admit, “I’m enjoying myself now.”

Her smile softens further, the teasing edge disappearing, replaced by something gentler. “So am I,” she whispers, her voice almost lost in the sound of the waves. The simplicity of the exchange leaves you both with a feeling that lingers, a shared warmth that seeps into the space between you. 

For a few moments, neither of you speak. She turns her gaze back towards the sea, her expression serene, as if the sea holds answers she’s not ready to share. She’s beautiful, more than you had noticed from afar. Up close, the softness of her features, the way her lips curve just slightly, the gentle rise and fall of her chest as she breathes – it all captivates you. 

But then, she lies back on the sand, her head tilting up to gaze at the stars. You realise, with a jolt of disappointment, that you can’t watch her without being obvious. So you follow her lead, lying back, the night sky stretching out above you, an endless canvas of stars. You can hear her breathing, soft and steady beside you, the rustle of her puffer jacket as she shifts. 

Your eyes dart toward her again, your head turning slightly to catch another glimpse. She’s focused on the sky, her eyebrows knit together just a little as if she’s studying the constellations. The moonlight casts a soft glow on her face, highlighting the delicate curve of her nose, the way her lips are still curved in that faint smile. Your gaze traces over every feature, as if trying to commit her to memory. There’s something peaceful about the way she looks up, absorbed in the beauty of the night. You can’t take your eyes off her.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, she glances towards you. She tries to be subtle, but you catch her. Her cheeks flush slightly, the blush barely visible in the dim light, and she offers you a bashful smile before turning her eyes back to the stars. 

The words tumble out of you before you can stop them, a whisper barely carried by the wind. “You’re very beautiful.”

Her head turns towards you again, this time more slowly, and you realise you’ve shifted closer to her without meaning to. Your shoulders are now touching, and the closeness feels intimate, like a secret shared between you. She seems surprised by your words, her eyes widening slightly as they search yours, but then her lips part in a soft, almost hesitant, “Gracias.”

Your hand moves on its own, a gentle, instinctual action. It rises to her face, your palm cupping her cheek with the lightest of touches. You search her expression for any sign of discomfort, any flicker of hesitation, but there’s none. She stays still, her eyes fluttering shut as your thumb brushes over her skin, tracing the gentle slope of her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose. Her breath hitches softly, the sensation clearly calming her, as though your touch is lulling her into a peaceful trance. 

You pull your hand back, afraid you might have crossed a line, but before you can fully retreat, she reaches up and gently catches your wrist, guiding your hand back to her cheek. “Don’t stop,” she whispers, her voice so soft it almost dissolves into the night air. “It’s nice.”

A smile tugs at your lips as you give in to her request. You roll onto your side, propping yourself up on one elbow to better face her, while she relaxes back into the sand, her eyes closing again. Your fingers trace her skin more confidently now, memorising every curve, every soft breath she takes. You run your thumb over her lips, a tender, barely-there caress, and her eyes flutter open, meeting yours. 

Your breath catches as you hover over her, your voice a mere whisper, “I could kiss you right now.”

She doesn’t answer immediately, taking a few shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling under your gaze. You wonder if you’ve pushed too far, but then she smiles – a bright, wide smile that makes your heart soar. “Please, kiss me,” she breathes.

You hesitate, giving her a moment to change her mind, but when she doesn’t, you lean down slowly, your lips finding hers in a soft, lingering kiss. She melts into it, her hand coming to rest on your hip, her thumb tracing gentle circles that send warmth coursing through you. It’s a delicate kiss, one that’s innocent.

When you pull away, your breath is heavier than before, and you look down at her. She’s still so close, her lips slightly parted, her eyes half-lidded. “Kiss me again,” she whispers, her voice so quiet, like it’s meant only for you.

This time, you don’t hesitate. You kiss her again, your lips pressing more firmly against hers, tilting your head to deepen it. There’s something meaningful in this kiss, though you can’t quite grasp what it is. It’s soft and sweet, but it feels like more than just a moment. It lingers, like something you know will stay with you long after it ends.

The kiss stretches on, and your breathing becomes more laboured, each breath shallow and quick. You lose yourself in the softness of her lips, the gentle way her hand moves on your hip, but eventually, you pull away, realising how long you’ve been lost in her.

Your eyes rake over her face, memorising every detail – the twinkle of her hazel eyes, the beauty spots dotting her skin, the way the moonlight makes her glow. She’s breathtaking.

“What’s your name?” she asks softly, breaking the quiet between you.

You shake your head, your voice low and hesitant. “No.”

A flicker of confusion crosses her face, but you lean down before she can ask why, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips, so soft it’s barely there. When you pull away, you stand, your heart heavy with the weight of what you’re about to do. Without another word, you turn and begin walking away, the sand shifting under your feet as you move in the opposite direction of the bonfire, of your friends.

She watches you go, sitting up slightly, but she doesn’t protest. She just watches, her heart heavy with a sadness she doesn’t fully understand. She doesn’t know your name, doesn’t know anything about you, but something in her feels like it’s walking away with you, leaving her behind. The kiss, the moment – it was perfect. She knows, somehow, that no kiss will ever feel the same again. Not with anyone else. Only you. 

And as you disappear into the night, without a glance back, she finally stands and returns to the group, a sense of quiet sadness settling over her as she looks out at the sea one last time.

[bratzkoo]

still the one | joshua hong

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: exes! joshua x reader Genre: fluff, semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 4.8k~ Warnings/note: i just want joshua to do something very loser of him just to get his ex back.

summary: 5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

You didn’t really see it coming.

The autumn breeze carried a hint of crisp possibility as you walked through the park, fallen leaves crunching satisfyingly beneath your feet. Life was good – you had a successful career that challenged and fulfilled you, a cozy apartment in the heart of the city, and a circle of friends who filled your days with laughter and your nights with adventure.

As you strolled along the winding path, you couldn't help but smile at the scenes around you. Couples walked hand in hand, their heads bent close in conversation. Families spread out on checkered blankets, enjoying impromptu picnics in the fading warmth of the season. A group of friends tossed a frisbee, their shouts and laughter carrying on the wind.

You paused for a moment, tilting your face up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Contentment washed over you, a feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely Ranee confirming plans for your weekly wine and movie night. Life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, one that you'd worked hard to create and maintain.

Little did you know that this carefully constructed peace was about to be shaken to its core. As you reached for your phone, you were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing, of the persistent force that was about to re-enter your life and turn everything upside down.

Somewhere across the city, Joshua Hong was steeling his nerves, his finger hovering over the 'Create Account' button on Instagram. He'd spent weeks crafting the perfect username, carefully selecting photos, and writing and rewriting his bio. Now, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he was about to take the first step in his plan to win you back.

But for now, in this moment, you were simply enjoying the park, the autumn day, and the life you'd built for yourself. The future, with all its unexpected twists and turns, could wait.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your reverie. A notification from Instagram – a new follow request. Your breath caught as you read the username: J_Hong_1996. It couldn't be... could it?

With trembling fingers, you tapped on the profile. The photos were sparse, but unmistakable. Joshua, looking older but still achingly familiar, in various locations around the city. Your city. He was back.

For a moment, you considered hitting the 'Decline' button, shutting this unexpected door before it could fully open. But curiosity – or perhaps something deeper – made you hesitate. Before you could overthink it, you hit 'Accept', telling yourself it was just to see what he was up to.

Within minutes, your phone buzzed again. A direct message.

"(Y/N), I know it's been a long time, but I'm back in town. Can we talk?"

You stared at the message, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Anger at his presumption, hurt that still lingered after all these years, and underneath it all, a traitorous flicker of... what? Hope? Longing? You shook your head, banishing the thought.

Days passed, and more messages followed, each one a little more desperate than the last.

"I understand if you're angry. I just want a chance to explain."

"I've missed you every day for the past five years. Please, just five minutes of your time."

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to earn it."

You continued to ignore them, hoping he'd take the hint. But Joshua, it seemed, was nothing if not persistent.

A week after the first Instagram request, your brother Seungkwan called. His voice was suspiciously casual as he said, "Hey, sis! Just finalizing plans for my birthday party next weekend. You're coming, right?"

"Of course," you replied, a smile in your voice despite your turbulent thoughts. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great!" Seungkwan said, a little too enthusiastically. There was a pause, and then, "Oh, and, uh, just so you know... Joshua might be there. He reached out, said he was back in town and wanted to reconnect with old friends. I hope that's okay?"

Your grip tightened on the phone, knuckles turning white. "Seungkwan," you said, your voice dangerously calm, "did he put you up to this?"

Your brother's guilty silence was all the answer you needed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It's fine. It's your party. Invite whoever you want."

As you ended the call, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being maneuvered into a confrontation you weren't sure you were ready for.

The night of Seungkwan's party arrived, crisp and clear. You'd spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing your outfit – a sleek black dress that hugged your curves, paired with your favorite heels. You told yourself it was for your own confidence, not for any other reason.

The moment you stepped into the crowded apartment, you felt his presence. It was like a sixth sense, your body attuned to his proximity even after all these years. You scanned the room, your heart racing, but there was no sign of him.

For the first hour, you managed to avoid him, sticking close to your friends and keeping your eyes averted from the door. But as you stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, you heard his voice behind you.

"(Y/N)."

You turned slowly, steeling yourself. And there he was. Joshua. Five years older, a touch of silver at his temples, but still devastatingly handsome. His eyes, those warm brown eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now held a mixture of hope and trepidation.

"Hello, Joshua," you said, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to back away. "Thank you for not running away," he said softly. "I wasn't sure you'd even talk to me."

"I'm here for Seungkwan," you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary. "This isn't about you."

Joshua nodded, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "I know. But I'm hoping... maybe we could talk? Just for a few minutes?"

You sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "What is there to talk about, Joshua? It's been five years. We've both moved on."

"Have we?" he asked, moving to stand beside you at the railing. "Because I haven't. Not really."

You turned to face him, anger bubbling up inside you. "And whose fault is that? You're the one who left, remember? You don't get to come back after five years and act like nothing's changed."

"I know," Joshua said, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I've regretted leaving every day for the past five years. You're all I think about, (Y/N). I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away from us, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make it right."

You shook your head, stepping away from him. "It's too late for that, Joshua. We can't go back."

As you walked away, leaving him alone on the balcony, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. You were right.

For weeks after the party, Joshua's attempts to reach you intensified. It started with flowers delivered to your office – a stunning bouquet of your favorite blooms. Your coworkers cooed and speculated, but you simply moved them to the break room, ignoring the card that bore his familiar handwriting.

Next came the letters. Handwritten pages that showed up in your mailbox, pouring out his heart, explaining his actions, and begging for another chance. You told yourself you were going to throw them away unread, but each night found you poring over his words, tears staining the pages.

Then there was the singing telegram – a mortifying experience that left your entire office buzzing with gossip. As the poor college student in a ridiculous costume belted out a heartfelt rendition of "your song," you wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Each gesture chipped away at your resolve, even as you tried to maintain your distance. You found yourself lying awake at night, memories of your time together playing on an endless loop. The good times – lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, surprise picnics in the park, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world. But also the bad – the fights that grew more frequent towards the end, the distance that had grown between you, the day he'd walked out with nothing but a suitcase and a broken promise.

Your friends were divided on the issue. Ranee, ever the romantic, thought you should hear him out. "People change, (Y/N)," she'd say over wine and takeout. "Maybe he really has grown up. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least listen?"

But Jihoon, who'd seen you through the worst of the breakup, was adamantly against it. "He had his chance," he'd argue, eyes flashing with protective anger. "He doesn't get to waltz back in and disrupt your life just because he's decided he made a mistake."

You appreciated their concern, but in the end, you knew the decision had to be yours. And despite your best efforts to stay strong, to remember the pain he'd caused, you could feel your resolve weakening.

Then came the night that changed everything.

You were settling in for a quiet evening at home, a glass of wine in hand and your favorite movie queued up, when a commotion outside your apartment door caught your attention. Frowning, you muted the TV and approached cautiously, peering through the peephole.

Your heart nearly stopped at what you saw.

Joshua was on his knees in the hallway, a bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at your door, unaware that you were watching. His voice, muffled but clear, carried through the wood.

"(Y/N), please. I know you're in there. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me a chance."

You pressed your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you.

"I was stupid for letting you go, and I've spent every day since then regretting it. You're still the one for me, (Y/N). You've always been the one. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please, just open the door."

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it. Five years of hurt, of carefully rebuilding your life, warred against the undeniable pull you still felt towards him.

"I'm not giving up," Joshua continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll come back every day until you're ready to talk to me. Because I know, deep down, that we're meant to be together. Please, (Y/N). Just give me one more chance."

You leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Memories flooded your mind – the day you met, your first kiss, the night he told you he loved you. But also the fights, the growing distance, the day he'd walked out. You'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life without him. Could you really risk opening that door again?

As if he could sense your indecision, Joshua's pleas grew more urgent. "I know I hurt you. I know I left you alone, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But being back here, being close to you again... it's made me realize that you're still the one for me. You always have been."

You found yourself standing, drawn to his voice like a magnet. Your hand reached for the doorknob of its own accord.

"I've tried to start again, to find somebody else," Joshua continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But I can't get you out of my head. The memories, the things we said to each other... they're always there. I can't move on, (Y/N). Not without knowing I did everything I could to make things right between us."

With a shaky breath, you turned the knob. As you slowly opened the door, Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He scrambled to his feet, the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.

"You have five minutes," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After that, if I tell you to leave, you go. And you don't come back. Understood?"

Joshua nodded eagerly, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, (Y/N). That's all I'm asking for. A chance to explain, to show you how much you mean to me."

You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. As he passed, his familiar scent – a mix of cologne and something uniquely him – enveloped you, bringing with it a rush of memories. You closed the door and turned to face him, arms crossed protectively over your chest.

"Talk," you said simply.

Joshua took a deep breath, setting the flowers on a nearby table. "First, I want to say how sorry I am. Not just for leaving, but for how I handled everything leading up to it. I was young and stupid and scared of the intensity of what I felt for you. Instead of talking to you about my fears, I pushed you away. I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do, that we'd both be better off. But I was wrong. So incredibly wrong."

You remained silent, watching him carefully. Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you remembered all too well.

"These past five years have been... empty," he continued. "I threw myself into my work, traveled, tried to convince myself I was living this great, exciting life. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home. Because home was always with you, (Y/N)."

"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "Because I finally realized what an idiot I'd been. Because the thought of going another day without you in my life was unbearable. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone a second chance. But I had to try. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you how I feel."

You turned away, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "And how do you feel, Joshua?"

You heard him step closer, though he didn't touch you. "I love you, (Y/N). I never stopped loving you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. Every good thing that happens, I want to share with you. Every bad day, I wish you were there to make it better. You're it for me. You're the one."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously. "Love isn't always enough, Joshua. You proved that when you walked out five years ago."

"I know," he said softly. "But I've changed. I've grown up. I know now that love isn't just a feeling – it's a choice. And I choose you, (Y/N). I'll choose you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me."

You turned to face him, taking in the earnest expression on his face, the love and hope shining in his eyes. "And what if I say no? What if I tell you to leave and never come back?"

Pain flashed across Joshua's features, but he stood his ground. "Then I'll respect your decision. It'll break my heart, but I'll go. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn't include me."

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility. You found yourself at a crossroads, the path forward unclear. On one side lay the safety of the life you'd built without him – predictable, stable, but tinged with a loneliness you'd never quite been able to shake. On the other, the unknown – the risk of heartbreak, but also the potential for a love deeper and stronger than before.

"I can't..." you started, your voice breaking. You took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't just forget everything that happened, Joshua. The pain, the years of trying to move on... it's not that simple."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking for a chance to make new memories, better ones. To show you every day how much you mean to me, how sorry I am for the pain I caused."

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. When you opened them again, Joshua was still there, waiting patiently, hope etched in every line of his face.

"I can't promise you anything," you said finally. "I don't know if I can trust you again, or if I even want to try. But..." you paused, hardly believing the words about to leave your mouth, "I'm willing to listen. To take things slowly and see where they lead."

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's more than I could have hoped for," he said softly. "Thank you, (Y/N). I promise you won't regret this."

As he turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at you with eyes full of renewed determination, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whether it was the beginning of a new chapter or the final closing of an old one remained to be seen. But one thing was certain – Joshua's persistence had finally broken through your defenses, and now, for better or worse, you were embarking on a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

The door closed behind him, and you sank onto your couch, emotions swirling within you. You picked up your phone, needing to talk to someone who could offer an outside perspective. Ranee answered on the second ring.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I think I'm in trouble," you said, your voice shaky. "Joshua... he was just here. On his knees in the in the hallway," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Begging me to give him another chance."

Ranee gasped. "Oh my god, (Y/N). What did you do?"

You closed your eyes, still hardly believing it yourself. "I... I let him in. We talked."

"And?" Ranee pressed, her voice a mixture of concern and excitement.

"And... I told him I'd be willing to listen. To take things slowly." You let out a shaky breath. "Ranee, what am I doing? Am I crazy for even considering this?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Ranee spoke again, her voice was gentle. "You're not crazy, (Y/N). You're human. And whether you want to admit it or not, Joshua was a huge part of your life. It's natural to have conflicting feelings."

"But what if I'm making a huge mistake?" you asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since Joshua left. "What if he hurts me again?"

"That's always a risk in any relationship," Ranee pointed out. "But let me ask you this – do you think you'd regret it more if you gave him a chance and it didn't work out, or if you turned him away without ever knowing what could have been?"

Her question gave you pause. You thought about the past five years, about the life you'd built for yourself. It was a good life, comfortable and safe. But there had always been something missing, a void you'd never quite been able to fill.

"I don't know," you admitted. "I just... I'm scared, Ranee. I worked so hard to move on, to be okay without him. What if letting him back in undoes all of that?"

"Then you'll pick yourself up and move on again," Ranee said firmly. "But this time, you'll do it knowing you gave it your all. No what-ifs, no regrets."

After hanging up with Ranee, you sat in the quiet of your apartment, mulling over her words. Your eyes fell on the bouquet Joshua had brought, still sitting on the table where he'd left it. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. He'd remembered your favorite flowers after all these years.

Your phone buzzed with a text:

From Joshua: "Thank you again for giving me a chance to explain. I meant every word I said tonight. I'll wait as long as it takes. You're still the one, (Y/N). Always."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Slowly, you typed out a reply:

To Joshua: "I meant what I said too. Slow. I need time to process all of this."

His response came almost immediately:

From Joshua: "Of course. We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm just grateful for the opportunity. Sleep well, (Y/N)."

As you got ready for bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Part of you was terrified of the vulnerability that came with opening your heart again. But another part, a part that had been dormant for far too long, felt a flicker of excitement at the possibility of reconnecting with Joshua.

The next few weeks were a delicate dance of tentative steps forward and cautious retreats. True to his word, Joshua respected your need for space, never pushing for more than you were ready to give. Your interactions started small – text messages exchanged throughout the day, brief phone calls that gradually grew longer.

Then came the coffee dates. The first one was awkward, both of you unsure of how to act around each other after so much time apart. But as the weeks went by, you found yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm. You talked about your lives over the past five years – your career advancements, his travels, the lessons you'd both learned.

One afternoon, as you sat across from Joshua in your favorite café, he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Nothing, I just... I can't believe I'm here with you. There were so many times over the past five years when I thought I'd lost this chance forever."

You felt a familiar pang in your chest – a mixture of old hurt and new hope. "Joshua..."

"I know," he said quickly. "I know we're taking things slow. And I respect that. I just want you to know how grateful I am for every moment I get to spend with you."

His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You found yourself reaching across the table, your hand covering his. It was the first time you'd initiated physical contact since he'd come back into your life, and you felt him tense in surprise before relaxing into your touch.

"I'm grateful too," you admitted softly. "I won't lie – there's still a part of me that's scared. That's waiting for the other shoe to drop. But... I'm glad we're doing this. Whatever 'this' is."

Joshua turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours. "It's whatever you want it to be, (Y/N). I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself slowly letting your guard down. The walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble, brick by brick. Joshua was patient, attentive, and consistently present in a way he hadn't been towards the end of your relationship five years ago.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of old hurts resurfacing. Arguments where past grievances bubbled up, threatening to derail the progress you'd made. But unlike before, you both made a conscious effort to communicate, to work through your issues rather than letting them fester.

It was during one of these conversations, late one night as you walked through the park where you'd first met, that Joshua stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice serious. "I need you to know something."

You felt your heart rate quicken, a mix of anticipation and anxiety coursing through you. "What is it?"

Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know we've been taking things slow, and I respect that. But I want to be clear about where I stand. I love you. I'm in love with you. And if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day."

You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the emotion behind them. For a moment, you were transported back in time – to the day he'd first told you he loved you, to all the dreams and plans you'd made together. But this time, instead of fear or doubt, you felt a sense of certainty wash over you.

"Joshua," you said softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you too. I think... I think I always have, even when I was trying so hard not to."

The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any you'd ever seen. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart full of hope and possibility. "Forward," you said simply. "Together."

As Joshua's lips met yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges ahead, old wounds to heal, and new obstacles to overcome. But for the first time in five years, you felt truly, completely whole.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through you – love, frustration, happiness, and a touch of amused exasperation. Joshua's persistence had not only won him a second chance but had also reignited a love that had never truly died. As you stood there, hand in hand in the park where your story began, the future stretching out before you, a realization hit you.

"DAMN YOU, JOSHUA HONG!" you exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise.

His eyes widened, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his face. "What? What's wrong?"

But before he could say anything else, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close again. "Damn you and your persistence," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips despite your words. "Making me fall in love with you all over again."

Relief and joy flooded Joshua's features as he understood. "I told you I wouldn't give up," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Well, congratulations," you replied, your tone a mixture of sarcasm and genuine affection. "You win. Are you happy now?"

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was answer enough, but he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Happier than I've ever been."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. As you lost yourself in the moment, you realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that withstand the test of time and separation, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before – even if they require a little (or a lot) of persistence along the way.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but laugh. "You know," you said, intertwining your fingers with his, "if you ever pull a disappearing act like that again, I'll hunt you down myself."

Joshua grinned, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Noted. Though I have to say, I kind of like this feisty side of you."

"Oh, you haven't seen feisty yet, Hong," you retorted, but your eyes were sparkling with happiness.

And if this man ever forget how lucky he is? Well, you'd be more than happy to remind him – right after you kissed him senseless, of course.

[atzaurora]

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] 𝒮𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑𝒚𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅.﹙엔하이픈﹚(0.7k)

𖥔 fem!reader x enhypen (hyung line) ; dating ⸼જ Their reaction to finding you asleep on the couch... ➤ reaction (fluff) .ᐟ.ᐟ >none< .ᐟ.ᐟ

꒰🖇꒱ only wrote for hyung line today, lmk if I should do the rest as well!! and I've been really into Enhypen lately so I'll try writing more for them as well (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]! ; [𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here! ; [about me] + [guidelines]!

[˗ˏˋ ✧ ´ˎ˗] lee heeseung

His heart melted at the peaceful expression on your face, the slight rise and fall of your chest as you breathed softly. He smiled to himself, moving quietly so as not to wake you. The sight of you so calm and content tugged at his heartstrings, and he knelt down beside you, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You must’ve been waiting for me, huh?" he whispered, his voice barely audible. Heeseung admired you for a few moments, his gaze soft and affectionate. Instead of waking you, he decided to join you. Slipping onto the couch beside you, he carefully pulled the blanket over both of you and wrapped an arm around your waist, settling in close. You instinctively snuggled into him, and Heeseung chuckled under his breath, his heart fluttering at how perfectly you fit together. “Good night, love,” he murmured before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, content to hold you close for the rest of the night. ── ࣪˖ OTHER MEMBERS BELOW

[˗ˏˋ ✧ ´ˎ˗] park jongseong

His expression softened immediately, taking in the way your face looked so peaceful, your lips slightly parted as you breathed evenly. Jay shook his head with a small smile, thinking about how you always tried to wait up for him. “You didn’t have to push yourself, silly,” he mumbled, his voice filled with affection. Without a second thought, he grabbed a nearby throw blanket, tucking it around you to make sure you were warm. Jay then sat down on the floor beside the couch, his back leaning against it, just so he could be close to you. He watched you for a moment, his heart swelling with warmth, before he reached up to lightly trace his fingers along your hand that was peeking out from under the blanket. “Sweet dreams, jagiya,” Jay whispered, leaning down to kiss your knuckles softly.

[˗ˏˋ ✧ ´ˎ˗] sim jaeyun

His heart fluttered at how peaceful you looked, the stress of the day clearly melting away from your features. Trying his best not to wake you, Jake moved closer, crouching down beside the couch to take in the adorable scene. He noticed how your hair had fallen into your face and, without thinking, gently brushed it aside, his fingers grazing your cheek softly. A small smile crept onto his lips as he watched your slow, steady breathing. “She’s so cute,” he whispered to himself, resisting the urge to laugh at how his heart raced just by watching you sleep. Jake carefully adjusted the blanket that had slipped off your shoulders, tucking it around you to make sure you stayed warm. Then, with one last glance at your peaceful form, he decided not to disturb you. Instead, he turned off the TV and quietly settled into the armchair nearby, content to watch over you for a little longer.

[˗ˏˋ ✧ ´ˎ˗] park sunghoon

He chuckled softly at the sight, amused by the way you had clearly tried to stay up waiting for him but lost the battle to sleep. Moving closer, he knelt down beside you, examining your peaceful expression. His sharp features softened as he gazed at you, the corners of his mouth lifting into a gentle smile. "You must've been tired," he whispered under his breath. Not wanting to disturb you, Sunghoon carefully lifted the book from your chest, marking the page you had been reading. As he stood up, he hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should wake you up or let you rest. Ultimately, the sight of you looking so comfortable won him over. Grabbing a spare blanket from the nearby chair, Sunghoon draped it over you. He paused for a moment, then, on an impulse, gently pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. His hands lingered for just a second longer before he pulled back, slightly embarrassed by his own action. With a small, satisfied sigh, he whispered, "Goodnight, angel," before turning off the lights and heading toward the bedroom.

[yuwuta]

PLSSSS MORE YUUTA DRABBLES 🙏🙏🙏 I SURVIVE ON UR YUUTA WRITING IT’S BEEN TOO LONG IM HUNGRY 🗣️ FEED ME PLSSS

I wish I had to ability to write words for Yuuta without it turning into a 5k+ project but I don’t 😔 so I don’t have anything short for him I can promise to work on concretely buuuuuuut please enjoy this completely out of context scene from a scrapped roommates au with him 🥰

cw mentions of murder 😭

“Do you want me to kill him?”

“You have to stop jumping to that conclusion every single time I ramble about a failed dating attempt,” you roll your eyes, but there’s a smile on your face as you lean against Yuuta’s shoulder, “They always say pretty boys don’t last in prison. Plus, I don’t have bail money.”

Yuuta hums. Normally, a warmth spreads through his chest whenever you touch him, whenever you lean into him for comfort, but this time he finds himself feeling small, cold. Usually, when he offers you laugh it off, telling him murder isn’t the solution, crack some joke about how your situationship is going to be miserable anyway and that’s his punishment. There’s something about this response that he doesn’t like; as if you’d entertained his offer for a brief moment and concluded it wasn’t feasible; as if you have doubt in him. You shouldn’t, he hasn’t given you a reason to.

You ask him for the remote and he reaches for it mindlessly, pouting when you wrap your arms about his and begin to flick through movie options. Yuuta brings his knees to his chest, careful not to disturb you leaning against his arm when he tilts his head to rest it on top of yours.

He stays like that while you watch the movie, burying yourself in an hour and half of romantic comedy to get over your bad date. But Yuuta has a different movie playing in his head: a murder without the mystery and a romance that’s probably not safe for work.

By the time the lead in your movie is kissing her love interest in the rain, Yuuta has finished his production, humming to himself and mumbling his muffled words against the crown of your head, “I wouldn’t get caught.”

[veronicaphoenix]

until the stars stop shining | noah sebastian

previous part to all that's left, but it can be read as a one shot.

summary: noah and his girl spend an evening by the lake | words: 1.2k | reading time: 5mins

tags & trigger warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff. noah is an illustrator, reader loves baking cookies, mentions of noah having been reader's first, and that's it—they love each other a ton.

This is for the anon that asked for something sweet and fluffy after i posted All That's Left. I hope this does it. It's not actually a standalone work, but a sort of flashback belonging to the same story where All That's Left happens. I have a full plot developed in my head, but I can't tell if I'll ever write it and post it, so here goes this little thing where you get to know a little bit more of those characters and the story.

Thank you for all your constant love and support <3

 ͢ until the stars stop shining

Noah leaned back in the Muskoka chair, one leg lazily stretched out, balancing his sketchbook on his lap. He was shirtless, only wearing his bathing suit. For over an hour, he had been sketching, savoring the tranquil solitude offered by the lake, the warm caress of the late afternoon sun, and the rustling of leaves. Early fall was the perfect time for moments like this, when nature felt intimate and unhurried. Most of the tourists had long gone, leaving behind only the soft chorus of birds and the quiet murmur of waves licking the shore.

The breeze teased the pages of his sketchbook, carrying with it the crisp scent of pine needles and the rhythmic whisper of water against the rocks. Noah’s pencil glided in slow, thoughtful strokes as he tried to capture the scene before him, but his thoughts drifted constantly to his girl.

The door to the cottage creaked open right then, and she stepped outside. She carried a wooden tray filled with oat cinnamon cookies, their powdered sugar dusting glinting in the soft afternoon light. The sweet, comforting aroma mingled with the crisp air, making Noah smile to himself even without glancing back. 

She padded softly down the dock, her bare feet almost silent against the worn wood, and placed the tray on the armrest of his chair, her fingers grazing his shoulder in a brief, affectionate touch.

“I baked something,” she said, her voice carrying that familiar warmth. Of course she had. Baking was her favorite thing to do.  “Something sweet for my favorite artist.”

Noah grinned as he finally looked at her, his eyes catching on the spot of flour smeared across her nose. She had no idea it was there, and he decided not to tell her—she looked adorable like that.

“You need to refill your energy after working so hard for hours on end,” she pointed out as she glanced at the open sketchbook on his lap. 

Instead of reaching for a cookie, Noah broke off a small piece and gently brought it to her lips. Her smile widened as she took a bite, the sweetness melting on her tongue. A moment later, he let out a soft chuckle, reaching to brush a crumb off her lip with the pad of his thumb. His eyes lingered on her for a beat longer before dropping back to his half-finished sketch.

“I’m not half as good at drawing as you are at baking,” he admitted.

She tilted her head, glancing at the sketch. “This one looks pretty good to me, Noah.”

He smirked, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Wait until you see the one I did last night, after you fell asleep on the couch.”

“Why do you find it so entertaining to draw me?”

His gaze softened as he looked back at her. “Because you’re my favorite subject.”

That’s when he bopped her nose, making the flour stain disappear.

Her grin was bright and effortless as she leaned over the back of his chair, wrapping her arms around his neck. She rested her chin on his shoulder, close enough to feel his warmth. “And you’re my favorite person to bake for,” she whispered.

Noah’s cheeks flushed slightly at her words, a rare blush coloring his usually composed expression. She kissed the warm skin of his left cheek, lingering for just a moment before pulling away with a satisfied smile. She wandered toward the edge of the dock, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden planks. She sat down, her legs hanging off the edge.

Noah watched her for a moment, admiring how the wind gently tousled her hair and the way the light danced off her skin. The contentment in her posture, the way her eyes reflected the colors of the setting sun—everything about this moment felt perfect.

“You ever gonna let me teach you how to swim?” Noah asked.

She hesitated for a moment, her gaze fixed on the water before she responded quietly, “I don’t know... I’m still a bit scared of it.” She dipped her feet a little deeper, letting the cool water lap around her ankles. “But... I love being here. With you.”

The memory of that first visit just the two of them was vivid in both their minds. This was Jolly’s cottage, the same place where Noah and her had meet back when she was still fourteen and he was eighteen. They had spent countless of weekends and birthdays and fourths of July in this very same place. But nothing had been as special as the weekend Noah convinced Jolly to let him stay with her, alone. It had been six years since then, and even now, the memory of taking her virginity—in Jolly’s bed—was still as clear as water.  

Noah watched as the wind played with her hair, blowing soft strands across her face. He picked up his sketchbook again, unable to resist capturing her in this moment—the peacefulness, the effortless beauty. His pencil moved in quick, steady strokes as he sketched her sitting at the edge of the dock, her feet in the water, the sun casting an orange glow over the horizon. He knew that one day, he would marry this girl. There was no question in his mind.

Once satisfied with the drawing, Noah quietly set his sketchbook aside and rose from the chair. He walked over to her with slow, deliberate steps, his heart swelling as he took in the sight of her in this perfect, secluded spot. Without warning, he bent down, pretending to lift her by the underarms as if he were about to toss her into the water.

She yelped in surprise, her heart leaping as she felt her feet lift off the dock. “Noah!” 

Before she could fully react, Noah pulled her back into his arms, turning her around to face him. She clung to him, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, her arms tightening around his neck, her pulse racing from the surprise.

“Don’t you dare!” she gasped, breathless from both fear and thrill, burying her face against his neck.

Noah laughed with her, holding her close, feeling her warm breath against his skin. “I wouldn’t let you go that easily,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

Still holding her, Noah carried her over to the blanket they had left spread out on the dock earlier. He gently laid her down, her body sinking into the soft fabric, and then settled beside her. 

“Don’t you ever,” she started to say, “ever, let me drown, Noah Sebastian.”

“Never ever,” he promised, showing her his pinky finger. 

She laced it with hers and finally, she let out a heavy sigh and cuddled closer to him, nuzzing her cheek against his bare shoulder. 

They lay close, facing each other, their fingers lazily tracing along each other’s arms and faces. Neither spoke for a long while. Her fingers trailed down his chest while his hand rested lightly on her hip. Above them, the stars began to appear, one by one, until the sky was a dark, glittering canvas. The moon’s reflection shimmered on the water.

“How long will you love me?” Noah asked, his voice barely louder than the breeze.

She gazed at him, eyes warm and steady. She placed the most tender of kisses on his lips.

“Until the stars stop shining.”

[foreverisntenough]

--------- My tiny one shot below for you 🤍

'Marshmallows*'

3.2k words | Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader | Warning: Smut! MDNI

↳ You're watching a film in the cinema with your kids when your baby Tate asks for hot chocolate. Whilst looking for marshmallows in your pantry Trent joins you to help but more things happen than just finding the sweet.

Other ForeverIsntEnough One Shots

---------

It was one of those perfect winter nights where everything felt wrapped in a blanket of warmth, despite the biting chill outside. The cinema was dimly lit, the only light coming from the glow of the television and the flickering flames from the fireplace. The cozy crackle of the fire added to the comfort of the room, while the soft murmur of the movie kept everyone’s attention, each child lost in their own little world of blankets and pillows.

Teddy, just had turned seven years old, had nestled herself beside Marcel, giggling at something he whispered to her. They both looked so content, her little legs curled under her, Marcel leaned in as if he was her age, completely involved in whatever silly joke they shared. On the floor, Theo and Tyde were sprawled out, blankets half on, half off, their eyes glued to the screen. Tyde was almost falling asleep, his eyelids growing heavier by the minute, while Theo, as always, had a little extra energy, kicking his legs absentmindedly as he watched the movie.  Tate, your baby boy, was tucked into your lap, wrapped in the softness of your embrace and the thick blanket you had pulled over both of you. His freshly braided hair smelled sweet as you kissed the top of his head. He wiggled a little, getting comfortable, and then looked up at you with those big, doe eyes—the same ones his daddy had. 

"Mama… I have hot chocklate, pleabs?" he asked in the softest voice, his words gentle and full of that innocence only he could have. Before you could answer, Theo piped up from the floor, raising his hand like he was in school.

"Can I have some too, Mummy?" He asked, his eyes mirroring Trent’s just like Tates.  You chuckled softly, realizing you were now on the hook for not one but multiple cups of hot chocolate. You glanced around the room, sure enough, Teddy was giving you a hopeful look, her eyes just the same. Even Marcel, with a mischievous grin, was watching you with raised eyebrows, acting as if he was one of them. You shook your head in amusement.

"With mellows mama, pleabs." Tyde yawned rolling dramtically onto his side.

"I suppose I’m making hot chocolate for everyone, huh?" you said, laughing as you ran your hand over Tate’s hair gently. Trent, who had been watching you with that same soft smile he always wore when he looked at his family, sat up a little and turned to the room. 

"Okay, okay, everybody, what do we say?" His voice was playful but firm, encouraging a chorus of manners. In unison, all of your babies chimed in—Teddy, Theo, and even little Tyde who was starting to doze off—"Thank you, Mummy!" You let your eyes flutter closed appreciating the fact that your babies were using their manners. Marcel echoed a ‘Thank you, Mummy’ of his own in an exaggerated tone, causing the kids to burst out in giggles.

"Alright, alright," you said with a grin, untangling yourself gently from Tate’s little body as you prepared to get up. "Seven cups of hot chocolate it is." You rolled your eyes affectionately, feeling the warmth of their gratitude and the lightheartedness filling the room. But before you could full get up, Trent slid over from his spot on the sofa, taking your hand and pulling you back down gently, his eyes twinkling with that familiar playfulness. 

 "Let me help, beautiful. You’re not doing this all by yourself." He planted a quick kiss on your cheek after speaking. You shook your head rejecting him cupping his face and kissing his forehead before kissing Tates. When you had made it to the kitchen, you found yourself feeling a bit stuck as you searched the pantry for the marshmallows that were requested. As you began feeling more and more flustered that you couldn't find them, Trent quietly slipped in behind you. His presence was comforting as always, and when you turned to tell him you had it covered, your pout gave away how frustrated you really were. Trent saw right through it, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"Can't find something, hmm?" he asked, his voice low, but there was a teasing glint in his eyes. As you rummaged through the pantry, searching for marshmallows that if you couldn’t find would without a doubt stir up questions from the four, no probably five kids back in the cinema. Trent’s voice sent a shiver down your spine as he leant casually against the pantry door, his frame filling the space with a seductive presence. His brown eyes sparkling with mischief, and a playful smile plays on his tanned, handsome face. You couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire as his intense gaze travels down your body, taking in your own figure.

"Just these pesky marshmallows," you replied with a sigh feigning a deeper frustration because at the moment you were mildly relishing the opportunity to spend some time alone with him. "Tyde asked and now they seem to have vanished into thin air. I swear, the marshmallows were here last week." You huffed playfully. He chuckled, stepping closer, and before you could protest, you heard the quiet click of the pantry door locking behind him. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you turned to face him fully. "T," you whispered, a laugh escaping your lips as you glanced at the door. "What are you doing?" You asked. It really was his plan to come and help but the way your body was stretched reaching up to shelves, the way your t shirt clung to your body, the whole thing was sexier than he anticipated. He didn't answer right away. Instead, he slid his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against him, his body warm, strong, and familiar. His eyes twinkled with that mischievous look that always made your heart race, even after all these years.

"You work too hard," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine. "Making hot chocolate for seven people... trying to keep everything perfect." His hands gently traced down to the small of your back, holding you close as his voice softened. "I just want to make sure you're okay, too." You smiled up at him, feeling the warmth of his embrace, but there was something more in his gaze tonight-something playful. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His voice was lower now, huskier. "Maybe I can help you find those marshmallows..."

"Oh, is that what this is about?" you teased, but your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, your fingers lightly tracing the lines of his muscles. You laughed softly, shaking your head.

"Maybe," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against yours. Trent grinned, one hand sliding up your back, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Or maybe it's about making sure you know how much I love you." The pantry felt like a world away from the cozy chaos of the cinema as the moment between you deepened. For a second, you forgot about the hot chocolate, the kids, and the fact that you were in a pantry. Trent had a way of making everything else fade away when he looked at you like that. Your breath caught as he leaned in, finally closing the small gap between you, his lips capturing yours in a slow, lingering kiss. His touch was gentle, but there was an undeniable intensity in the way he held you, like he couldn't get enough. When he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his forehead rested against yours. “You're so amazing, you know that?" He whispered. You smiled, feeling your heart swell with love for this man.

 "I'm just trying to keep up," you said softly. He kissed you again, this time a little longer, a little deeper, making your knees weak. When he finally let go, his lips curled into that signature playful grin. 

"Well, I think I just found what you were looking for," he said, glancing behind you. You turned, expecting to see the marshmallows, but instead, your eyes landed on nothing. You glanced back at him, confused, but Trent's grin only widened. "Not the marshmallows, beautiful.” He clarified, pulling you back into his arms. "You." You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. 

“I’ll feel so bad if I can’t find them.” You pouted feeling defeated.  

“I might have a solution to make you feel better," Trent said, his voice dropping an octave, sending a delicious thrill through your body. With a swift movement, he stepped into you further, closing the distance between your bodies that had opened up. His hands gently cupped your cheeks, and he leant in again, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Let me take care of you, right here, right now." Your heart pounded in anticipation as Trent’s words send a rush of heat between your thighs. You'd always been a sucker for his cheeky charm and his insatiable appetite for pleasure. The idea of being taken by him in this very moment, in this intimate space, ignited a fire within you. Suddenly you found yourself in a rare moment of alone time and you were more than happy to take advantage of.

"Oh, really?" you manage to whisper, your voice hoarse with desire. "And what did you have in mind, T, baby?” You smirked. Trent’s hands slide down your neck, tracing the sensitive skin, making you shiver. 

"Something hot, just for us," he murmured, his lips brushing against your earlobe, sending electric shocks through your body. "Something to make you forget all about those marshmallows." Without waiting for a response, he lifted your top, his warm hands gliding over your bare skin, cupping your heavy breasts, thumbs teasing your hardening nipples through the lace of your bra. "You feel so fucking good," he growls, his breath was hot on your neck as he kneaded and squeezed your sensitive flesh. "I love how responsive you still are to my touch, baby.” Trent cooed. 

"Please, T," you begged, your voice breathless. "I need more." You moaned softly, arching into his touch, your hands reaching back to grip his strong back, urging him closer. In response, he unhooked your bra with nimble fingers, freeing your tits. He bent down, taking a taut nipple into his warm mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hands continued to explore your body, stroking and caressing your sensitive skin. Trent turned you around, pressing your body against the pantry shelves, the various packages and boxes digging slightly into your front momentarily, adding a delicious pinch of pain to the growing pleasure.

"You're so wet f’me already," he whispered against your skin, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your joggers, stroking your moist folds through the thin fabric of your panties. "I can feel how much you want me. Have you been thinking about me, baby?” He mused.

"Yeah, baby, I need you. Miss you so much," you gasped, your head falling back against his shoulder as his skilled fingers found your aching clit, circling and rubbing it through the damp material. "I want you so bad. Please fuck me, right here, right now." He chuckled, the vibrations of his laughter against your skin sent shivers down your spine.

 "Whatever you want, whenever you want, I’m always yours.” He said, his voice thick with desire. With a swift motion, he pulled your joggers down your legs, along with your soaked panties, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. He stept back, taking in the sight of your naked body, his eyes dark with need. "God, my fucking wife is so fucking sexy," he rasped, his eyes roaming over your curves. "Absolutely fucking perfect." You felt a surge of confidence as his words fueled your desire. Reaching down, you grasped his hard length through his pants, stroking him through the fabric, making him hiss in pleasure.

"I want you inside me, T," you demanded, your voice confident and filled with lust. "Now, baby." You whined. Trent didn’t need to be told twice. He quickly shed his clothes, revealing his muscular body and straining erection. He positioned himself behind you, his hands gripping your hips, and in one smooth thrust, he filled you completely, his thick cock stretching you deliciously in the most pleasurable pain. You were dripping wet but you also had to make this marginally faster than you probably would’ve liked. You were meant to be making hot chocolate after all. Trent let out labored breaths and a chuckle placing his hand over your mouth as you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation of Trent beginning to fuck into you. 

"Oh, fuck…" you mumbled into his palm, pushing back against him, taking him even deeper. Trent set a relentless pace, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drove into you, his balls slapping against your sensitive flesh with each powerful stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the pantry, mingling with your muffled moans and cries of pleasure into his hand.

"You love this, don't you, baby?" he grunted, his breath hot on your neck as he pounded into you. "Always my dirty girl, taking my cock so well." He grunted, removing his hand from your lips sliding it to your front to tug on your nipple, making you shiver. 

"Yeah, Please, please, please.”  you chanted, your body on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure. "Harder, T, fuck me harder!" You begged him. You and Trent still got to have sex often but moments like this where you got to sneak around and feel like kids again were perfection and just flat out sexy. Trent oobliged, his hands tightening on your hips, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more primal. You could feel your orgasm building, a delicious pressure coiling low in your belly. "I'm gonna come, T!" you whined, your voice hoarse with need.

"Be a good girl f’me and cum on my cock baby."  Trent grunted letting his hand glide down your body, his fingers finding your swollen clit, rubbing it in perfect rhythm with his thrusts. The combination of his cock pounding into your pussy and his fingers working your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out, your body convulsing around his shaft as you climaxed, your juices flowing freely, coating his cock with your essence. Trent followed you into the abyss, his own release building rapidly.

"Fuck, baby… gonna make me cum squeezing me like that. Ah… fuck I’m cumming, baby.” He moaned, his hips snapping forward one last time as he emptied his load deep inside you, filling you with his hot cum. Breathless and spent, you both lean against each other, your hearts racing and your bodies glistening with a slight sheen of sweat. Trent planted a tender kiss on your shoulder, his breath still ragged. "I think we found something much better than marshmallows, yeah?" he said, his voice filled with satisfaction and a sweet laugh.

"Much… Much… better, my T," you cooed, turning in his arms to kiss him deeply. "I'd choose this any day." You giggled, a contented glow spreading through your body. He wrapped his arms tighter around you, swaying you back and forth as he glanced around, finally spotting the marshmallows on a high shelf, out of your reach. He let go of you with one of his arms, reaching up to them easily, holding them out to you with a grin. 

"Told you l'd find them. Orgasm and marshmallows lucky you." He winked with a laugh that sent an ache through your heart. He was always perfect for you whether it was finding marshmallows for your babies or if it was making you cum on his cock, he was ever perfect. You rolled your eyes affectionately, grabbing the marshmallows.

“Lucky me.” You giggled. “You always are right, huh?” You smiled leaving the pantry. Trent leaned against the kitchen counter as you gathered the cocoa mix, milk, and mugs. He watched you with that familiar look, his admiration for you evident in the way his eyes followed your every move.

"You know," he said softly, "you make this whole mum thing look so sexy and effortless." He cooed watching you.

"Not at all, but I appreciate you saying it." You warmly smiled at him, shaking your head. He stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pulling you close again.

"I mean it," he whispered into your ear. "I don’t know how you do it, but our kids adore you. I adore you." You leaned back into him, closing your eyes for a moment, feeling the strength of his embrace. 

"Well, I couldn’t do any of it without you." He kissed your temple softly before pulling away to help with the milk on the stove. The two of you worked in perfect rhythm, your years of partnership evident in how naturally you moved together. Soon, the rich scent of cocoa filled the kitchen, and you smiled, knowing how much your little ones would love it. As you both returned to the cinema your kids plus Marcel eagerly awaited their hot chocolates, unaware of the stolen moment you'd shared. 

“You took too long, Mummy,” Theo complained in a huff, making you laugh as you carefully handed out the mugs of hot chocolate, as he narrowed his eyes at you and grinned.  

“Sorry, Tio baby. I needed Daddy’s help.” You smiled apologetically, giving him a playful shrug. 

“Did you say thank you to Dada?” Teddy, never missing a beat, tilted her head thoughtfully and asked before flashing to Tate and Tyde. Her innocent eyes wide with curiosity but also a proud glint in them trying to make a point to her younger brothers.  Teddy really dove into her roll as the oldest and being a big sister. You bit your lip, holding back a smug grin. 

“I did,” you said, glancing at Trent with a knowing look. He smirked and, in that calm, easy way of his, picked Tate up from Teddy’s lap and settled him into his own arms.

“Mummy definitely did,” he added with a wink, causing you to stifle a giggle. Marcel, who had been observing the scene from the the side of the couch with Teddy, raised an eyebrow and made a dramatic face of mock disgust. 

“Who knew hot chocolate took half an hour,” he said, shaking his head, “I bet mummy and daddy can do a lot of things in half an hour.” He muttered out with a chuckle. Trent threw a pillow at him. You both laughed as you nestled back onto the couch next to Trent, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you leaned into him. Tate immediately crawled back into your lap, his little arms wrapped around you. You helped Tate with his hot cocoa, blowing gently on the top to make sure it wasn’t too hot for him. Tate looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, and you kissed the top of his head, the warmth of the moment wrapping around you like the thickest, softest blanket. As Trent leaned over to kiss your cheek, you took the opportunity to whisper into his ear.

“I’ll say thank you again tonight.”  You cooed, your voice teasing and soft. His eyes darkened for just a second, his lips twitching into a smile.

 “I’ll hold you to that.” He whispered. The kids were oblivious, focused on their hot chocolate and the film continuing to play in the background, but you and Trent shared that quiet, intimate moment—connected, even in the midst of the joyful chaos around you.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough here!

[demonsslayersstuff]

The Five Times You Sleep Together (Gojo x Reader)

A/N: Reposting

A/N: This is a Gojo x Reader drabble about the five times you sleep together. Not posted in chronological order. Mentions of sex and kissing but nothing too detailed. It is mostly about just sleeping lol. Enjoy!

Fourth Time:

Grief is what caused the two of you to sleep together, you both needed the comfort of the other, the feel of someone laying next to you, the knowledge that you weren't alone.

Gojo finds you standing in the courtyard, the rubble of destroyed buildings strewn about. You had gone there because you wanted to see the last thing your former friend saw before they had died. In away it was almost closure for yourself, seeing the damage and knowing he didn't survive. While you felt deep sadness, there was also a sense of relief with his passing.

Neither of you speak as the white-haired man comes to stand beside you, the two of you had been friends, truthfully a bit more for over a decade, so words did not need to be spoken. You look at him, noting the fatigue and hollowness in his eyes. While Geto had been your friend, he wasn’t as close to you as he had been to Gojo. He was Gojo’s best friend. You grab his hand and begin to walk away from the chaos of the day. The two of you walking the familiar path to the dormitories of the school.

Soon you enter your room, shoes toed off, heading for the bed. You reach for his jacket, unbuttoning it and slipping it off his shoulders without protest. He does the same for you, jacket removed and tossed into some random corner of the room. You shimmy out of your pants, him doing the same before the two you crawl into bed. You lay your head onto Gojo's chest as an arm wraps around your waist, his other hand threading through your hair.

"Sleep, I'll be here when you wake up, I promise", he whispers. You feel his lips brush against your forehead, your eyes dropping with the steady brush of his fingers in your hair. "Satoru...", you mumble. "I'm sorry, I'll always be here for you", you continue before drifting off to sleep. Gojo holds you a bit tighter that night.

First Time:

Nightmares is what sends you to your friends room at two in the morning. After you'd failed to save someone during you previous mission your nights were plagued with their screams replaying in your mind, you hadn't slept well in over two weeks.

The door opens, Gojo looking down at you with a surprised face after you'd knocked. "Can't sleep", you say walking into his room. Unsurprisingly you find candy wrappers, clothes, and books strewn all over the place. "You want to talk about it?", Gojo asks, motioning you to sit on on his bed. "I can't get her screams out of my head", you tell him after a moment of silence.

He hums for a few seconds before, “Here”, Gojo says moving the blankets to the side, indicating that he wanted you to lay down. “No, no, I can’t sleep here”, you tell him, cheeks flushing. “Why not? This not what you had in mind for our first time together?”, he quips with a cheeky grin that you would have smacked off his face if not for his infinity. “Ok, ok. I promise I’ll be a gentleman. I just think you might be able to sleep better with me here”, Gojo says. You ponder his words for a moment, “No funny business?”, you ask him pointedly. “I promise sweets”, he replies.

You sigh before slipping in the blankets, scooting towards the wall as Satoru follows careful to keep a bit of distance between the two of you. It’s not long before you feel the warmth emitting from his body, making you sleepy, eyes closing. But before you can, the scene that had been haunting you replays in your mind, your breathing quickens. Suddenly you feel Gojo’s body close to yours, his hand on your waist, lips near your ear. “It’s ok, I’m here”, he whispers. “Listen to my breathing, breathe with me”, he tells you. You follow his instructions silently and after a few minutes you find yourself drifting to sleep, breathing relaxed.

Hours later when the sun light peaks through the window, you awaken wrapped protectively in his arms and for the first time in weeks you felt safe and rested.

The Third Time:

You find him sitting in the dark classroom, glasses off, staring out the window. It had been mere hours since his best friend had defected and you were worried.

You approach him delicately, Gojo was not one to talk about his feelings, preferring to suffer alone in silence. “Sato”, you say quietly, entering the room. He doesn’t respond, continuing to look out the window. You slowly move to stand next him, glancing to get a good look at him. His usually sparkling blue eyes were now dull and devoid of his usual happiness. You could see the pain on his face, the fatigue in the way his shoulders slumped in an almost defeated way.

You reach out and grasp his hand in yours, surprised his infinity was off. “Come with me”, you tell him. “I don’t…”, he finally answers, though his words die as his voice cracks. “Don’t argue with me Satoru, I’m not leaving you alone tonight”, you say in the most authoritative voice you have. Gojo’s eyes go wide, but surprisingly he doesn’t argue, instead follows behind you, your hand still gripping his.

A few moments later your pushing him through your door and onto your bed. You watch as he curls up into a ball, dejectedly staring at your wall. You sigh before you crawl into bed. Though you are significantly smaller than him you wrap your body around his, your right arm crossing his chest, leg overlapping his.

You stay like that for a long time, in absolute silence. Your presence was enough to soothe him, to make it known he wasn’t alone in this. Eventually Gojo turns to face you. He just stares into your eyes and you swear you’ve never seen him so broken. You move your hand to softly cup his cheek, your thumb softly brushing it. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I am sorry”, you tell him quietly. You see a few tears slip from his eyes, which you quickly brush away. “I’m here when you’re ready to talk, I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, ok”, you continue.

Gojo continues to stare at you for a moment before he suddenly closes the distance between your faces, kissing you. Though you are surprised, you don’t shy away. This probably isn’t the healthiest way to handle this situation, but you let yourself be devoured in the kiss, let his hands grip your waist as you as he moves to hover on top of you, your arms wrapping around his neck, your silent permission to him that this was ok.

One day you’ll find the time to have a real conversation to sort out these feelings, but for now you let him remove your clothes, let him touch you in places you’ve only dreamed about. You let Satoru Gojo make your body his own and he lets you do the same. Hours later when the two you are nestled in each other’s arms, sleep ready to take over, do you hear, “Thank you”, whispered and you know that things will get better.

The Second Time:

“Well this is just peachy”, you say finally breaking the silence between the three of you. You, Gojo, and Nanami had been tasked on an overnight mission in Osaka. Though you’d been promised a triple room the three of you continue to stare at the one single bed and one queen sized bed in uncomfortable silence.

“I guess you and I are bunk mates”, Gojo says looking over at Nanami. You also look over at Nanami, though more so because of concern. While the two boys would work together without complaint during a mission, sleeping together was one thing you knew Nanami was not happy about.

You hear your junior curse under his breath, saw the unpleasant look on his face. You sigh, hoping you would not regret the words you were about to say. “Nanami you take the twin bed”, you say. Both boys whip around in surprise. “Senpai, no”, Nanami begins, but you wave him off. “Don’t worry it about, I’m trying to save your sanity from this psycho”, you tell him, thumbing point to Gojo.

“Hey!”, he responds with feigned hurt. “Still, it’s not fair for you to sleep with him-” Nanami argues, but you interject. “It’s ok, besides this wouldn’t be the first time”, you tell him. Your eyes go wide when you finish speaking, realizing the mistake you had just made. Gojo laughs as Nanami’s face turns the darkest shade of red you’d ever seen.

“I see so it’s like that. Very well. I’m gonna, uhh, I’ll just meet you by the 7/11 in five minutes”, Nanami tumbles over his words before darting out of the room. “No Nanami it’s not like that”, you shout after him, but the blond haired sorcerer is gone. “Nice going sweets”, Gojo says finally says after letting the scene play out. You give him a heated look before heading out to explain what you meant to Nanami.

Hours later, when your mission is completed you come to not regret your words. Not when Gojo is quick to cuddle with you, you’re too tired to complain, though secretly you relish in his touch. Sleep finds you quickly that night wrapped in the arms of the strongest sorcerer.

The Fifth Time:

It’s not long after Geto’s death that Satoru seeks the warmth of your bed again, just as he’d done the first night of his friend’s death. He doesn’t knock, he doesn’t need to, not anymore anyway.

The two of you had been playing a quiet little game of expressing your emotions physically, though neither of you made an effort to speak of them. For the past ten years it had been stolen touches and glances. The occasional “slip up” of kisses and heated moments being shared every now and then.

You didn’t bother trying to be with anyone else. You knew from the age of eighteen, when the two of you had shared that intimate night together, that Satoru Gojo was your soulmate. You were his, he made zero effort to push you away, to find anyone else. There was no point in his mind, you were his, had been for ten years. Though again neither of you had ever spoken about this.

That night you hear your door creak open and close, you feel the familiar weight on the mattress as it dips down. Strong arms wrap your waist, pulling you flush again him. “You awake sweets?”, Gojo asks. You hum in a sleepy response, which quietly changes to a squeal as he flips you over to face him. “Sato-”, you begin but the words die in your throat when you look up into his face. He was looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature on the entire planet.

It’s not long before the two of you find yourself in the familiar frenziness of clothes being ripped off, hands exploring each other’s bodies, lips locking together. The difference is that as the two of you reach your highs an “I love you”, spills from his lips, rocking your heart to its core. “Be mine”, Gojo says later after removing his face from your neck, the weight of what he’d previously said still hanging in the air. You cup his face with your hands. “I was already yours Satoru”, you tell him softly. Your admission brings your favorite crooked smile to his face.

Later after the two of you clean up and sink back into the comfort of each other’s arms you say, “Move the rest of your stuff here”, quietly, testing new waters. “Tomorrow morning”, he replies, sleep heavy in his voice. You nestle deeply into his chest whispering, “I love you too”, before sleep finally overtakes you. After that night, the two of you rarely slept apart, finally embracing your true feelings that started ten years ago.

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Doctor's Wife 💘 | Carlisle Cullen Imagine

Set during the events of Twilight (2008)

Twilight Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x female!vampire!reader (romantic), Bella Swan x Edward Cullen, Edward Cullen x reader (platonic)

Content warnings: fluff, light angst, suggestive themes right at the end | female reader (she/her) | wc: 3.5k

requested 📥 yes/no

Premise: When Edward introduces Bella to his family after weeks of avoiding the inevitable, there was no telling how it was going to go down. Of course, what does one expect when they bring their girlfriend over for the first time…. except it's to a family of animal blood-sucking vampires who's lives each deserve a biography of their own. Bella felt the pressure of making a great impression, but the nerves seemed to heighten in regard to meeting the woman responsible for raising Edward throughout his undead life. The woman whose soul was bonded to none other than the Cullen patriarch.

--------------------------

Over a hundred years walking the Earth and Edward still experienced the universal feeling of cringe and embarrassment. This time, at the hands of none other than his family as he introduced him to the girl who’d captured his undead heart and made it hard for Edward to stay away. 

“Alright, um,” he swallowed, placing a gentle hand on Bella’s back to nudge her in the direction of the staircase. Away from the prying eyes of his siblings and Carlisle after Alice had to say, ‘Oh, you do smell good,’ and Jesper was literally fighting for his life to keep it together. “Where’s Y/n?”

“In her studio,” Carlisle replied with a smile, the mention of his wife bringing a warmth to his chest. “She’s working on a project and can definitely use a break. She’s been excited to meet Bella since you mentioned bringing her over.” 

Bella blushed, the nerves resurfacing at meeting another member of the Cullen family. The matriarch at that. Edward’s adoptive mother and Carlisle’s wife. 

“Thanks,” Edward turned on his heel, leading Bella in the opposite direction. Mumbling a short goodbye, she followed the vampire down the corridor, past the staircase and a living space before stopping in front of a wooden door. 

Before he knocked, Edward put a comforting hand on Bella’s shoulder, “Calm down,” his teeth sparkled against the light, eyes teasing. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“Sorry,” she flushed again, cursing at herself. She didn’t understand why she was so nervous to meet Y/n. More so than the rest of his family. Maybe it was because Edward spoke so highly of her. Maybe it was because she saw the way Carlisle lit up at the mere mention of her name. Or how the townspeople praised Y/n, even if they only had one interaction. 

Edward went to knock, but this time was interrupted by a voice calling out from the other side, “Come in!” Smiling, he pushed open the door, revealing a large room in what only could be described as an organized disarray. 

Bella’s jaw slightly dropped, taking in the scene before her. Eyes first darting to the high ceilings with a drop-down chandelier. Though it wasn’t on, thanks to the natural light provided by the left side of the room with floor to ceiling windows where a wall should’ve been. A beautiful, perfect view of the forest surrounding the home. 

The walls were painted a rusted burnt red, the kind you see in art museums. Floors made of the finest dark wood, with one area covered by plastic reserved for protecting it by the paint cans laying on top, beside an easel holding a large canvas. A very large, vintage clock took the center of the wall connected to the window, surrounded by pieces ranging from old signs to shelves holding books and plants. 

On the main wall parallel to the windows, a map of the world hung, flanked by art pieces. Portraits, landscape. Various mediums of pencil, oils, and acrylic. A phone straight from the 1930s mounted above a small table covered by messy stacks of paper. Bella’s eyes drew to a woven basket that came probably to her waist, filled with pieces of rolled parchment. A few laid on the ground. A foot away from it was a cart holding art supplies. 

Finally, Bella’s gaze landed on the figure in the center of the room. Y/n sat on a wooden stool, her posture perfect, hand scribbling across a large piece of parchment placed on the wooden desk facing the windows. The desk was the type that propped up, a lamp attached to the corner, and side table. Something an artist or engineer invested in. 

“I thought I heard the raging pump of a heartbeat approaching.” Bella squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment, letting out a small groan. Opening them when she heard the skid of the stool against the floor. 

“Y/n,” Edward scolded, tone playful. 

“Apologies, I couldn’t help myself,” Y/n chuckled, approaching the two with a wide smile. Bella held her breath, admiring the woman before her. Alice may have been the fashion girlie of the family, but there was no denying who she must’ve gotten it from. 

Y/n made even the simplest of clothing look ethereal. White blouse tucked into beige trousers, brown belt with hints of gold, paired with stunning white heeled boots. The necklaces she wore were layered, the longest of which had several charms making them clink together, bracelets covering her wrists, three rings on each hand, and gold hoops. A multicolor scarf consisting of warm tones like red, orange, and yellow tied around her hair. Then of course, her eyes were melting gold. 

She was the picture of an artist. 

Upon closer inspection, Bella had to hold back a whistle at the ring reserved for her left ring finger. Carlisle sure had taste and made sure his lady got what she deserved. That was no ring. That was a rock.

“You must be the famous Bella,” Y/n’s hand shot out, Bella hesitating a moment before taking it. Y/n’s handshake was soft yet firm at the same time. Bringing a chill to Bella as their skin met. “It is truly a pleasure to meet you,” letting go of her hand, Y/n brought both of hers up to make a gesture. “I have been begging Edward to bring you around for weeks. I don’t know why it’s taken him so long,” a playful glare was directed at him. 

Edward rolled his eyes, then put an arm around Bella. “Bella, this is Y/n. My mother for all intents and purposes. Artist, architect, and occasional therapist to all of us emotionally stunted immortal teenagers.”

“You said it, not me,” Y/n smirked, hands raised again. 

Bella laughed, comforted by Edwards touch as she regarded Y/n. “It’s really nice to meet you, Y/n. Edward talks about you all the time.”

“Good things, correct?”

“Of course,” Bella assured, nudging Edward who had scoffed. “He mentioned you designed this house--it’s absolutely beautiful. And this--,” motioning to the space, Bella was again in awe of Y/n’s studio. It’s like she was walking through an exhibit in the Louvre. “Wow.”

“When I made the blueprints for this house, I wanted everyone to have a place--plus everyone was vocal about what they wanted,” she teases with a grin. “Carlisle has his study, Alice her closets, Rosalie wished for a garage, Jesper desired a library, Emmett a game room, Edward got his music room. And me,” a hand waves to the room with pride. “My studio.”

Bella raised an intrigued brow, aimed at Edward, “you have a music room?” 

Had he been human, Edward would have blushed. He brushed it off with a shrug, “Yeah, it’s just where I keep a few instruments. I’ll show you as we go through the house.”

“A few,” Y/n lightly scoffed, earning a small glare from the boy. 

“Carlisle said you’re working on a project,” he changed the subject, nudging his head toward the desk. Catching sight of the blueprints that were in the early draft stages. 

“The high school plans to renovate the library, so they’ve asked me to go over some plans and designs. They were pleased with my work for the gym last year.” 

Edward turns to Bella, “Y/n has the magic touch for designing and constructing. And because we’ve had the time to redo college over and over again….” They share a laugh, “she’s got degrees in art, engineering, design, and business on top of her architecture education.”

The woman simply shrugs, “I like to keep busy. Who wouldn't want to take advantage of obtaining all the world’s knowledge when you have eternity.” If she saw the pointed look Edward was giving her, Y/n ignored it. 

“Anyway,” He sighed, returning his attention to Bella, “The town comes to her for consultations. And, in most cases than often, she designs and oversees the build.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Bella awed, past Edward’s shoulder she spotted the white construction worker's hat. Propped beside a coat hanger possessing a pair of overalls, scarves, and painters' boots. “Did you-,” her finger pointed to the display of artwork, “paint all those?”

“Several, yes,” Y/n motioned them to follow her, moving closer to the wall. “This one you might have guessed is the view of the forest from this room. The first one I did when we moved here. But not all are recent, some I did in the 90s--,” she pointed to a canvas framed with gold trimming near the top. Depicting an image of inside a medical tent, “That one is from when I volunteered for the Army Nurses Corps.”

Bella’s eyes bulged, glancing between Y/n and Edward. “You--you served during the War?” 

Y/n nodded, expression now solemn, “First World War. We were living in Virginia at the time and therefore injured soldiers coming back from Europe docked at the bases there first. Carlisle was the trauma surgeon, and I was a nurse.” Her boots echoed against the wood as they strolled down. “We stayed there the duration of the war before settling in Chicago….”

“How long before he wakes up?”

“Not long,” Carlisle kept his eyes on the unconscious boy while his wife paced behind him. Had they been able to sweat they would’ve been drenched. “The venom transferred from his neck. The closest I could get to his heart--it should take less than a day.”

Y/n ran a hand through her neatly styled hair in distress. They’d only been in Chicago a few months. Arriving when the War ended and immediately joining the effort to combat the Spanish Influenza spreading through the population. With their current predicament, there was no way they could stay.  

Ripping the nurses cap off, she asked, “What’s our next move then? We can’t stay here. This city is an endless potluck of people, and we don’t know how strong his urges will be,” she stopped pacing, coming beside her husband with a pleading gaze. “I know you said his parents are dead, but that doesn't mean he may not have family who’ll come looking for him. What kind of people are we to rip him from the ones who love him?” Upon the look she received, Y/n dropped her head, “Unless you mean to fake his death.” 

Carlisle placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “The boy had the influenza. They saw his condition--it was deteriorating. They’ll believe it took him in the night and his body was sent to the incinerators. Just like the others.”

Y/n sniffed, eyes welling with unshed tears. “I know, but…” she trailed off, “He’s a kid, Carlisle. We agreed that when it came time for us to save someone from death, it would not mean robbing them of their life--.”

“He was dying, Y/n,” his tone was firm, yet gentle. “I promised his mother we’d look after him.” Eyes flicker to Edward, then back to Y/n. While Carlisle hated himself for what he’d done, there was no going back now. “He’s our responsibility now. We’ve to teach him the ways of this life and make sure he copes with it. Not succumb to the darkness like we did.” 

Another sound left her, Y/n taking a moment to process before nodding. “Okay,” she whispered, keeping her voice steady. “We take this day-by-day.”

“Day-by-day.” 

“That’s when Edward….” Bella trailed, biting her lip when she realized it wasn’t the best idea to bring it up. Yet, she was surprised both the vampires nodded, understanding her implication. Instead, she said, “He mentioned you’ve been with Carlisle the longest….”

Like earlier with the doctor, Y/n visibly brightened at each time his name was said. “Will be two hundred years this fall.”

“Two--two hundred??” The human spluttered. Edward had failed to tell her that information. Only saying the two had been together long before Carlisle saved him. 

Chuckling at Bella’s reaction, Y/n tucked a piece of stray hair back in its place. “The vampire who bit me didn’t stick around. Abandoning me. A few days later of endless wonder and unable to control my newfound appetite, Carlisle found me.” Her smile was so wide, bright white teeth bouncing off light. “It’s been quite a life ever since.” 

They spent the next few minutes learning about the history of each painting. From the oil masterpiece of the New York Skyline to the charcoal portrait of Joan of Arc. Bella took time to admire the watercolor image of Carlisle. Donned in his white coat, hair and posture perfect. 

“Ah yes,” Y/n hummed, beaming up at the canvas. “My personal favorite. Though I’m a little biased given the muse of this piece happens to be the muse of my soul.” 

“Stay still.”

“I am.” 

“No, you’re not,” Y/n berated, dipping the brush back into the golden color before continuing to paint Carlisle’s hair. “I know this is time consuming, darling, but it’s not like you haven’t done it before.” 

“In my defense,” his hand raised, quickly putting it back in his lap when she groaned, “I’ve never technically sat for a portrait. The ones from Volterra were done while I wasn’t aware they were being painted.” A grimace took his features, remembering his time with the Volturi. “Aro preferred moments to be captured as they were happening in real time.”

Y/n threw him a look, shaking her head in the process. “Yeah, he seems like the type.” 

“First and last time he got to play model,” she laughed at the memory. “Thanks to the creation of the camera I could develop a photograph and wallah!” her hands made a gesture, “A still image to use as reference. And now with cell phones….I don’t even have to put in the work to develop the photo. It’s right there!”

Initially Bella found her reaction to a camera phone a little odd. But then remembered Y/n was a 200+ year old vampire and literally witnessed the development and advancement of technology. 

“But I don’t always create,” Y/n winked, stopping in front of a stunning work of a lily pond. “Sometimes I collect.”

Stepping closer, Bella inspected the art, finger on her lip as her brows furrowed in concentration. She’d seen it before. The familiarity of it was driving her brain into overdrive. Then it hit her, breath hitching, “Is that…A Monet?” Her confirmation nod made Bella nearly choke on her saliva. “How--?”

“Being alive 226 years and getting the privilege of traveling anywhere means I’ve had the pleasure of meeting interesting people,” her smirk was the type a movie villain showed that made the audience fall in love with them and brush away the fact they were a villain. A captivating sight. “One of those people happened to be Claude Monet during our time in France. Our shared love for art and nature brought a great friendship. I was actually with him when he painted this,” she casually said, aware of Bella’s astonished reaction despite her eyes trained on the canvas. “Unfortunately, Carlisle and I left before I got to see him finish. After he died several of his paintings went to museums or auctioned off. I made sure to acquire this one--took me about three years to find.”

After a moment of gawking, Bella gathered herself and moved onto the next piece. It really felt like they were in an art museum. Soon they came to the end of the gallery. 

“You’re incredibly talented,” Bella praised, unable to take her attention off the marble sculpture enclosed in a glass case by the small bookshelf. 

“Thank you. It’s nice to finally have someone to show this all too. Instead of just me admiring it daily.” Y/n put her hands in pockets, “Now I hate to kick you out, but if you’ll excuse me, I have a deadline to beat,” Y/n led them to the door, “and I’ll let you get back to your tour of the house. It was lovely to meet you, Bella, and please don’t be a stranger. Our door is always open for you.” 

“I really appreciate it,” Bella smiled, standing beside Edward in the doorway, “It was great meeting you too.” A wave of a goodbye and promise to visit again, Y/n watched Edward escort his girlfriend up the staircase to the second floor. Leaning against the side, Y/n touched a finger to her lips, not bothering to hide the giant grin surfacing. 

“I know that look.”

Despite speaking after Bella and Edward disappeared, Y/n felt Carlisle’s presence the second he breached the corridor. Not to mention the tingling sensation at the base of her spine. 

Slowly turning to face him, her smile widened, and Carlisle saw the way her golden hues sparkled when he approached. “And what exactly is that look?”

“The one where you’re overcome with happiness unable to be measured with how much it consumes you.” 

Hands took hold of her shoulders, gently brushing down until they reached her own, Y/n leaning into his touch, voice teasing, “What mother would I be to not be overjoyed for her son and the wonderful girlfriend he’s brought home?” 

Carlisle chuckled, tilting his head down to place a kiss on her forehead. The floral aroma of her Marc Jacobs perfume amplified her already sweet scent. Oh, how addicted he was to her scent. It was like walking through a garden of the most beautiful flowers on Earth. 

“You didn’t embarrass him, did you?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, tapping his chest to scold him, “Not much more than you lot. He was practically dragging Bella out of the kitchen.” Carlisle raised his hands in defense, making her raise a brow.

“That was all the kids. I’m innocent, my dear, you must believe me.” 

She tsked, “Well, at least you didn’t scare the poor girl like Rosalie and Jasper. And as much as I love Alice’s excitement, you might want to tell her to take it down a notch,” Y/n made a face, “I thought we all agreed last night not to bring up Bella’s scent.”

She was met with a sigh, her sculptured-God of a husband dropping his head onto her shoulder in defeat. “What was I supposed to do? You left me to fend for myself.” 

Laughing, Y/n reached her arms around his shoulders, encasing him in an embrace to which he greatly accepted. “I’m sorry, my love. Will you forgive me? I promise to find you the finest stag in all of Washington for you to feast upon.” Instantly his head shot up, moving it so their noses brushed against each other. 

“That’ll do.” Their lips met, igniting fireworks throughout their bodies as it always had for 200 years. Never once losing the feeling. 

They’d seen everything in the course of their century's long life. Several wars. Epidemics. The fall of countries and rise of new ones. Medicine advancing, technology overtaking man. The race to space and the rebirth of the Olympic Games. 

Met people who’d changed the world. Witnessed humanity evolve--and sometimes wondered how the hell it could be so stupid. But overall, they were the stagnant figures in their plane of existence. Time moving, they remained still.

And yet, somehow, they were able to find a family after all. 

When they pulled apart, their expressions of love remained. “God,” she hummed, “That never gets old.”

“Just like the first time?” He chafed, gold eyes glimmering.

Y/n pretending to think, lips pouting, “Less nervous,” a squeal escaped her at the feeling of his fingers tickling her ribcage. Shoving him away, the woman chided, “Get back to the hospital old man. There are patients to be seen, and I have a deadline to finish.” The gasp that left him made her grin.

“Old?! I’ll have you know that if I’m old then that means you are---.”

“Don’t you finish that sentence,” her finger pointed at his chest, “otherwise you’re sleeping on the couch.” Carlisle smirked, entering her personal space once again. 

“I can’t sleep. Neither can you.”

“Damn,” she exhaled, feigning defeat when really, she was becoming more invested with their little game. “You’re right.” Then her eyes turned dark, sinister. Face consorting to a look that made Carlisle shudder. 

A look he’d seen hundreds of times, and not once did not bring a chill to his already cold body. Enough to bring his heart back to life. Enough to send the frozen blood down to his spine. 

“Guess we’ll have to find another way to pass the time.” 

[mae-lou-ron]

Back to Sleep

Summary: After some bad dreams interrupt your sleep, you find some unexpected comfort in your beloved partner, Tech.

Pairing: Tech x gn!reader

Word Count: ~800

TWs/Tags: pretty G rated, hurt/comfort, waking from bad dreams (no details), fluffy practical Tech in a newish relationship

A/N: AHHHHHH okay okay okay so the plot bunnies absolutely infested my brain after I saw THIS ✨incredible✨ artwork of our darling Tech by @ghostymarni 🫶🏻

This is completely self indulgent because, well, I love him, your honor. I was also inspired by the scene in the episode of Schitt’s Creek where Alexis tells David about her breakup with Mutt and realizes she needs a hug 😂

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Tech?" you murmured into the room he was occupying.

Tech hummed softly in acknowledgment. "It is late and I am in the middle of repairs—what do you need?" he asked quietly, not looking up from his project.

You didn't take offense to his demeanor when interrupted; it was just how his brain worked. He did that sometimes. His mind never ceasing its search for information and solutions. Sometimes that meant extracting himself from your sleepy cocoon to pursue whatever pathway his incredible mind had opened up to him in the middle of the night. But when you didn't respond for a moment, it shifted his unwavering attention to you, immediately noticing your slightly disheveled state.

"I just…" You paused again. "Maker, this is so stupid," you muttered under your breath, unsure if Tech heard you or not.

There was no room for anxiety in your gut now that the mortified butterflies had taken over. Things were still fairly new with you and Tech. You appreciated that he wasn't one who typically relied on physical affection to convey his feelings—and neither were you, really, but right now you were still a human with a rattled nervous system.

You heard the sound of tools being set down gently and the quiet thump of his approaching footsteps.

Your face was burning with embarrassment. You weren't a child, clearly, you should be able to console yourself and go back to sleep, but you were here now and had his undivided attention. Something that made your chest flutter wildly whenever you had it.

The toes of his boots came into your view as he stopped in front of you. "Sarad?" Tech inquired, his voice softening. "Is something the matter? You seem… unsettled." He offered. The warmth he always radiated displaced some of the chill that had set into your bones, and you instinctively leaned forward into him a little more. "Did I wak—"

"I had a nightmare—" you blurted out, inwardly groaning. Your eyes flicked up to his briefly before focusing on the middle of his chest. “I woke up and you…”

"I see," he said softly after a moment, adjusting his goggles as he regarded you. "You were seeking comfort after your bad dreams had woken you?"

"It's nothing—I was just a bit anxious when I woke up, but it's… it's nothing," you said again, standing on your tiptoes and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm fine, I really should go back to sleep…and don’t to stay up too la—" you rambled, still talking yourself out of your needs and taking a step or two back the way you came, but Tech’s hands on your shoulders stopped you.

"Your heart rate is elevated," he said plainly, peering at you. "You are flushed and speaking more quickly than usual." Tech lifted the back of his hand to gently run along your heated cheekbone. "…and you are avoiding eye contact with me, so I can deduce that you are, in fact, not 'fine’, my dear," he said softly, his fingers trailing down your chin before he pulled them away.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked genuinely. “I know that helps you sometimes,”

You shook your head, furrowing your brow. "It's just the same one I told you about," you confessed, biting the inside of your cheek, trying to determine yourself what it is you were seeking. His hand was back at his side, but you wished it was still caressing your face.

"I think I might need a hug…" you said warily, as if you were unsure of the words that came out of your own mouth. "…or something?" You added, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ah," he said, his eyes darting back and forth processing this information. You couldn't help but smile at seeing the brain you adored at work for you. "I understand," he added before walking back to his workbench—making it seem as though he didn't actually understand at all. You took a few steps in his direction as he pulled over a nearby chair and sat down.

Confusion was visible on your face. You told him you needed a hug, or something, and he immediately went and sat down? Possibly to continue the task you had just interrupted? But he didn't start working; he just looked at you expectantly.

"Come here, sarad," he said gently, shifting in the seat and patting his legs.

You smiled slowly, now understanding, and tiptoed over to him, gingerly taking a seat in his lap. He pulled you to him tightly, encouraging you to relax and lounge fully on him. He kissed the top of your head and ran his hand up and down your spine as you curled into the crook of his neck, inhaling his familiar scent of clean soap and mechanical ozone.

"This is nice," you sighed contentedly, feeling the tension in your chest releasing.

"Good," he quipped, brushing your face with his fingers again. "Rest. Fall asleep if you wish… I shall be here."

"Thank you," you murmured, curling your arm around his waist and closing your eyes. Tech's hands eventually left you to resume his task, but he pressed his lips into the top of your head every so often, reminding you he was still right there with you. His warmth and the steady thrum of his heart soothed you, while the sounds of his gentle tinkering and even breathing lulled you back into a peaceful sleep.

When you awoke, you found yourself back in Tech's bunk, but this time he was wrapped around you, snoring softly into your shoulder.

[tsukimefuku]

kintsugi :: higuruma hiromi

Higuruma, former lawyer, curse user, and reformed jujutsu sorcerer tries to make sense of what his life has become after the war is finally over.

content warning: spoilers for jjk 269. hinted kusahigu. mostly fluff and introspection, some hurt and comfort if you squint.

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: written to the sound of “here I dreamt I was an architect” by the decemberists. Inspired by this stunning higuruma fanart by @valleyofwater.

The sun hung high, and fully illuminated the classroom with the golden spring warmth. The blue sky surrounding it would be pristine, if not for a few stray clouds that on occasion cast its shadows over Jujutsu High, only adding to the idyllic, leisurely ambiance. 

“I didn’t understand that very well,” Yuji admitted as he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, earning him the indignant grunts from Megumi and Nobara.

“What do you mean? Higuruma-san explains things much better than Gojo sensei ever did and you learned from him, of all people!” Nobara complained, leaning over her classmate’s chair and smacking the back of Yuji’s head with her fist. She then proceeded to adjust her eye patch and sink into her chair with her arms crossed over her chest.

“His explanation was, indeed, very clear,” Megumi chimed in as Yuji attempted to soothe his pain by brushing his fingers over a growing bulge on his scalp. 

Higuruma, unaccustomed to juggling three teenagers, solely watched the unfolding scene in utter helplessness. With a sigh, he reclined back against the black board while looking at Itadori.

“What exactly did you fail to understand?” 

Yuji cleared his throat for a second, knowing full well his answer would earn him another round of getting kicked around like a poor puppy.

“Everything,” he whispered, lowering his gaze towards the floor before Nobara’s protests in disbelief reverberated like a roar throughout the vicinity.

With a sigh of resignation, Higuruma relaxed his shoulders while checking his wrist watch.

“You do better with practical lessons, Itadori,” the reformed jujutsu sorcerer remarked.

“I do!” Yuji confirmed, starting to pull a contented smile on his face.

“That wasn’t a question.” 

“Oh.”

That smile left as quick as it came.

Megumi covered his face with his palm, and wondered for a second when the elation for being back to normal life gave place to the mundane, every-day annoyance of dealing with Itadori and Kugisaki’s shenanigans.

“Let’s wrap this up for the day, and tomorrow we can have a practical lesson at the Dojo,” Higuruma concluded, crossing his arms.

After some fumbling around, the three students finished packing their things. Nobara and Megumi stepped outside, as she tried to place a bet on who would get to the vending machines first. Megumi’s grumpy demeanor did little to hide the fact that he had, even if begrudgingly, taken her up on her challenge.

Yuji remained on his chair, though, still ruminating on his hardship to learn about the inner workings of the cursed energy world as quickly as his classmates.

Higuruma looked at the boy, and remained silent for a short while before asking him what was the matter.

“It’s just… I don’t know, after everything that happened, I thought I could learn these things faster now, you know?”

Softly brushing his hand around his jaw, Higuruma pondered for a moment.

“Each person has a different learning process. I learned jujutsu by reverse engineering my own cursed technique and figuring out how it worked. Most learn about cursed energy and then go onto training their own CTs all the way up to domain expansion. It’s fine. With only three students, we can tailor classes for each and every one of you.”

His words seemed to soothe Yuji, who looked at Higuruma and spared him a relieved smile.

“I guess you’re right,” Yuji conceded, pondering for a few moments before proceeding, “you remind me of someone.”

“I do?”

“Yes,” Yuji replied, getting up and walking towards the door. For a second, Higuruma’s suited up, responsible demeanor brought him flashbacks of a much lighter colored suit, a blonde, side parted hair and a pair of green shades. “He was a very serious person, and kind, just like yourself.”

Higuruma’s mouth fell slightly open, but no words came out before Yuji waved at him, bidding his teacher goodbye before sprinting towards Nobara and Megumi.

I am so out of my element. Why did I agree to come here, of all places? Higuruma asked himself while sinking down on his desk’s chair. 

“Rough class?” 

The familiar, low baritone voice came accompanied by a few footsteps inside the classroom. Hiromi lifted his gaze to see the signature brownish-beige trench coat, along with the man who wore it.

“Good afternoon, Kusakabe,” Hiromi offered, nudging himself over his seat while motioning to get up. Kusakabe signaled for him to keep seated with one of his hands, before leaning himself on the desk’s side with his hands in his pockets and a lollipop shoved into his mouth.

“Rough life,” Higuruma replied, half in jest. Truth was, those past few months — nearly half a year after the fight at Shinjuku against Sukuna — felt like some sort of uncomfortable fever dream to Higuruma.

He was offered the opportunity to atone for his crimes as a teacher at Jujutsu High, and he seized said opportunity. However, the former lawyer caught himself struggling to fall asleep most nights while pondering. He didn’t know, unfortunately, what had made his soul so uneasy.

“At least we are not shacked up like sardines inside a makeshift bunker while fighting for our lives against a genocidal maniac,” Kusakabe promptly replied, earning him a nod from Higuruma.

”I guess you’re right. How has life as the new NSS headmaster been?”

“Almost pushing me back into smoking. Sometimes, I wish these lollipops were made out of pure nicotine.”

At that, Higuruma spared a quick, discreet smile.

“That bad?”

“Don’t even get me started on it,” Kusakabe grunted, glancing over towards the windows. “It’s a beautiful day, huh?”

Higuruma looked down at his hands, which sat together over the desk. After Kusakabe was done admiring the view, he turned his eyes to Higuruma, noticing the man sinking further into himself.

”Higuruma, how have you been? Is everything alright?” 

“I…” Higuruma let his voice drag, uncertain just as his feelings had been about everything that had happened ever since that fateful day in Keita’s trial, “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Kusakabe inquired, confused.

“I thought I was supposed to die back at Shinjuku. I believed that I would fulfill my duty, and… I don’t know, achieve some sort of spiritual absolution if I died while playing my role in the battle against Sukuna. But I just lived. It doesn’t make sense, it’s not adding up to me.” 

Kusakabe quickly realized this was the first time Higuruma was effectively putting these feelings into words, and conceded him the moments’ reprieve necessary for the man to collect his thoughts.

“Everything I’ve learned since gaining my CT was how to fight a war.” 

Higuruma sighed, and upon further contemplation, realized that what he said wasn’t the entire truth.  

“Actually, ever since I was a lawyer, all I ever did was fight a war, be it symbolically or literally. No one told me how to live my life after it was over, in peaceful times. I don’t think I quite know how to do that.”

“No one does,” Kusakabe quickly interjected.

“What?” Higuruma asked, his voice slightly surprised.

“No one knows how to live life. We’re just… living it, and doing what’s needed to get by. Clinging to what might give it some meaning from time to time.” 

Higuruma looked down, and let his colleague’s words sink in slowly. For all this time, he’d felt like a movie that overstayed its welcome, dragging along its plot for much longer that it should have. Upon experiencing the warmth of the sun coming through the wide set windows caressing his skin, however, Higuruma thought it didn’t seem so bad, after all.

“Everything I had ever believed in was broken, and I guess I was, too. My life,” Higuruma remarked, “and I’m finding it hard to piece things back together. I don’t know if that’s possible.” 

“I suppose you’ve heard of kintsugi,” Kusakabe said while pulling another lollipop from his pocket and replacing the already finished candy with a new one.

Higuruma was taken aback by the sudden shift in the conversation.

“The practice of fixing broken ceramic pieces with gold? Yes, I’m familiar.”

“Your life is the broken ceramic.”

… What?

Kusakabe had no ease for metaphors, and it showed in Higuruma's completely puzzled expression.

With a grunt, the seasoned sorcerer pulled the lollipop from his mouth and began gesturing around, as if trying to pull the words to have himself make sense out of thin air.

“What I mean to say is… broken things can be fixed, and sometimes the way they’re fixed can make them more valuable than they were before. Or something like that.”

Higuruma’s confusion subsided for the most part, but he remained silent to see if Kusakabe would offer some final commentary.

He did. 

“There is value in the healed cracks. That’s all. Perhaps this second chance you’ve been given is an opportunity to do just that. Heal those cracks with something valuable, I mean.”

Higuruma’s eyes traveled gently over the classroom in front of him, and he finally gazed out the window while actually paying attention to it for the first time in a long while. He saw the golden rays of sunshine projecting a soft, welcoming light over the students’ desks, noticed how clear the sky truly was, and the cloud-scattered blue that encompassed it all together as a visual symphony.

“It really is a beautiful day, after all,” Higuruma remarked, looking back at Kusakabe with a smile.

Kusakabe’s eyes met Hiromi’s, and this was probably the first time he had actually seen the man smiling with actual joy.

In a second, Kusakabe coughed, feeling his face warming up, and averted his gaze while covering his mouth with his fist.

“Is everything alright?” Higuruma asked, gently tilting his head to the side. “Did you choke on your lollipop?”

“No. It’s okay, I’m fine,” the other man answered, mentally pulling himself back to normal. “I just really have to go back to work.”

“Oh. Okay. I should probably leave this classroom too and get something to eat.” 

Kusakabe nodded and propped himself up, walking towards the door. However, he stopped as he was nearly past it, and turned around.

“Higuruma.”

The former lawyer had just gotten up himself, and turned to face his colleague.

“What?”

“Me and some other people from jujutsu high — assistants, mostly — will have a happy hour this Friday. Would you like to join us?”

The question caught Hiromi completely off guard, and he faltered for a few seconds before clearing his throat and answering, “yes. I appreciate the invite.”

Kusakabe nodded once more. “Okay. See you this Friday, then.”

As he watched Kusakabe leaving, Higuruma could feel the liquid gold slowly seeping into the cracks of his broken life, gluing things back in place.

written by tsukimefuku ㋡ comments and reblogs are appreciated. do not copy, translate or repost. copycatting is for losers.

[jacarandaaaas]

What you hate about each Encanto character and what you love about each Encanto character?

oh this is such a fun ask! a hard question as I love all the madrigals and the fact they’re so flawed makes them more fun to follow!

alma: i love her commitment, how she vowed to protect all these people even sacrificing her own needs to provide for others, how she promised these people a place of refudge and was always there to provide.

dislike: An obvious one here but I dislike how controlling alma can be, how her need for perfection can blind her and lead her to disregarding her own families feelings as well as her own! Her generally dismissing a lot of the problems of her family like telling pepa to control her emotions or not realizing how hurtful her comments are to mirabel.

pepa: i love how emotional she is! when pepa loves she loves with her entire heart she pours her all into every interaction and she wears her heart on her sleeve! she’s so compassionate! pepa truly is an open book and I love her for it!

dislike: i would probably say how she can get irrational very quickly and cause situations to elevate fast! Although I really can’t blame her for this based on the circumstances!

julieta: i always describe julieta as warm and i feel like no other word can capture her comforting nature and gentleness. I just love her warmth and her soothing energy!

dislike: I would say how she tends to coddle mirabel a lot. I know it comes from a place of love but you can see it doesn’t help mirabel and only makes her feel more insecure because julieta doesn’t understand her.

bruno: for bruno I would say I love how selfless he is. It’s a big thing to sacrifice your own sanity like that for someone else and it’s touching how much he truly cares about mirabel to want to protect her like that.

dislike: i would have to say how he’s timid a lot of the time. It’s sad to see him become so resigned and almost accept his fate and stay in the walls possibly forever. He had no fight left in him.

felix: I adore how felix is just the epitome of life of the party! he’s so uplifting and I love how he never gives out to pepa for her emotions. He’s the best at cheering people up and a sunshine in everyone’s lives!

dislike: about felix? that’s hard to say I feel like we don’t see enough of him for me to really base my answer on anything so I’m just gonna say how he told pepa about the vision at dinner😭 dude that was the worst idea!!

agustín: i love how supportive he is! He continuously supports julieta he runs after luisa when she’s upset and he promises mirabel he would hide the vision to protect her! the fact both he and julieta tried to go after her when she ran for the candle too! He also fiercely stands up for mirabel in such an iconic way and he doesn’t back down!

dislike: I would have to say how he can often hammer in the fact he is also unexceptional to try relate to mirabel but it makes the situation worse.

isabela: I love how loyal isa is. She was doing everything for the sake of the family and was willing to sign her entire life away just to keep them happy. Her loyalty knows no limits and I just feel it’s such a defining trait for her.

dislike: probably how smug she can be at times a key example being the apologize scene! it is funny but it’s also infuriating how smug she was making mirabel apologize for something she didn’t even do. Also how she tells mirabel to shut up and her general rude remarks to her!

dolores: for dolores I would say I love how attentive she is! small scene but how she immediately notices alma needs help and goes to offer her support! She notices the small details even without her super hearing! Like how she points out how mariano talks loud even though she hears everyone’s voice his always stuck out to her <3

dislike: probably how she blurts stuff out without thinking it through! like we know she was trying to be helpful when she told the kids mirabel doesn’t have a gift but she didn’t consider how mirabel would feel about that.

luisa: I love how kind luisa is! she was always willing to lend a hand to the people who need her even when they absolutely could deal with a lot of issues themselves! She’s also very sensitive and soft and I love when she allows herself to be vulnerable!

dislike: this might be unexpected but for dislike i would have to say how she kept ignoring mirabel when she wanted to talk. I understand she was stressed and mirabels being irritating but she could atleast look at her, mirabels already ignored a lot already and all she wanted was to talk to her sister about an issue.

camilo: like how mirabel says in the opening song I love how camilo won’t stop until he makes people smile! whether it be through his humor or his compassion I get the impression he would always be there for people. the scene where he comforts pepa is such a key example of this!

dislike: he can be a bit too blunt at times where it’s definitely not called for! he also has a tendency to exaggerate the truth for dramatic effect!

mirabel: have always said this and always will mirabels core trait is her empathy! Her ability to see others perspectives and empathize with them is so important! I always think of the “I need you” scene as a key example of this. She put aside her own feelings and focused on supporting antonio making sure he’s ok! how when she learns of the other madrigals struggles she tries her best to help them or comfort them! empathy is such a strong defining trait for her!

dislike: when it comes to mirabels negative traits I would have to say her stubbornness is the most prominent. the entire scene in isabelas room is proof of this she would have rathered let that house collapse than apologize or even listen to isabelas struggles the fact she was supportive and empathic to everyone’s issues but isas (at first) she was too stubborn to put aside her issues with isa! but also her recklessness and impulsiveness tie into this as well.

antonio: I love everything about him he’s so sweet and caring and I love how he returns the support mirabel gave to him! he always believed in her and was her biggest supporter and best friend! also how offered his plushie to comfort bruno when he was nervous! antonio is just such a caring kid!

dislike: nothing literally nothing how can u dislike this baby?

[prapaiwife]

"Thank you for waking me up from my nightmare"

"It's my duty as your lover"

After reading @secriden post here about how prapai takes "it's okay" and doesn't say it to say it! but as he says he shows sky with his actions. It reminds me of every time i watch episode 13 and I get to the ending scene here when sky tells prapai thank you for waking me up from my nightmare listen that THAT is so emotional, it leaves you honestly so misty-eyed cause sky is truly saying he is able to finally begin to rest. Something he hasn't been able to for a very long time. This has been a reoccurring nightmare for him and early on in the story you can see sky accept it for what it was.That this was his life now that he's going to have to just have these sleepless nights he's never going to rest. He's gonna comfort himself and tell himself it's okay though he doesn't believe it for a second.

Sky doesn't rest and so as a domino effect when u don't rest u don't stay healthy. We see sky neglecting himself he doesn't eat or often forgets to. It's so bad that he drives himself to be sick. And He's forced to actually not work and rest or atleast attempt to. Cause when he's sick the nightmares dont go away till pai stays with him that night and day. Holding his hand not leaving his side.

Sky has accepted that love is not for him as I said before it's a trigger for him just a clear threat in plain sight. And so he's accepted that he's not going to think for a second waste any thought or time that he's even actually worth of thinking that someone will actually be serious about him. Let alone believing that someone will find him endearing and cute and just wants to dote on him constantly. Not when sky doesn't believe it himself he doesn't think he's anything special handsome beautiful.

But meeting Pai and sky truly seeing what he deserves!! Seeing love truly in its most selfless and most beautiful ways while also being reciprocated! Pai didn't fix him as people like to say but he gave sky that second chance of hope just a simple try. Try to open your heart to me, try to see me as not someone who's going to hurt you, try to allow yourself to trust yourself and your feelings. And sky felt feelings as we saw that he tried to deny and play it off and tell himself constantly it's nothing it won't be anything prapai is the last person on earth to be ever serious about anyone. With all the while we saw how he likes how pai has been cheesy with him very consistent with how he's been showing up. He shows up even on the days when sky doesn't think he will hence when he's sick at the freshman orientation project. But he does even when prapai physically isn't there just with the simple lunch, dinners on his doorknob as a reminder for him to eat. I think it's so beautiful that sky is able to finally say that he can rest and allow himself to begin the healing process.

With a partner who has the utmost respect for him. Whoever loves him more than anything in the world and would do anything for him. Prapai is constantly overwhelmed with his love for sky it's so endearing. He tells him how his smile and hugs makes his day. Sky could now go to sleep with the man he loves and wake up with the man he loves in his arms. Even simply just laying in bed with him and his heart will immediately just felt like ease in this safeness. He doesn't have to second guess it cuz he's confident in his relationship and the love they have for each other. The nightmares have taken so much of his life. It's time for him to fully rest and embrace this calmness and warmth that he thought he would never feel from anyone is so touching you really think about when he says that to him.

Prapai saying it's his duty! As in it's his absolute honor to take care of him he doesn't see this as a burden or an inconvenience or hindrance. What sky went through won't just go away and they know that. But prapai has put in the work and will continue to make that commitment to them. They will continue together to grow together while building their relationship.🥺

[catsukiiee]

# DOVES. | CHAPTER ONE.

౨ৎ tenya iida x fem!reader fic.

season one of doves.

arranged marriage trope.

wordcount ; 1,565

paragraphs ; 35

sentences ; 92

reading time ; 6:15

songs used

— wedding opening song / walking down the aisle.

— the kiss + following scenes.

tropes ; arranged marriage, slowburn.

tenya iida is twenty eight instead of his canon age of twenty four.

readers age has been set to early or mid twenties for this fic (ofc you can make it any age you want, as long as it's not illegal.)

due to both of iida's parents being unnamed, i will figure out names for them in later chapters.

author's note: because i love my poc girlies, i will be writing reader to have brown skin. all brown girls can have any texture of hair, including straight/slightly straight. i never see character x reader being described as poc in this fandom so here we go!.

The weather today was soothing. The sun shone brighter than usual, with not a single cloud in the sky. It was an ideal day to be outdoors. You couldn't help but wish your life mirrored the warmth of the sun. Unfortunately, your existence was far from serene, born to a mother who would go to any lengths to satisfy her husband and daughter to a man who was consumed by his thirst for power.

In your father's eyes, you were less than human, a truth you eventually came to accept. However, the realization that your mother viewed you similarly was a painful blow.

As you sat in front of the mirror, your throat tight from suppressing tears, you caught your reflection. Your mother stood behind you, delicately placing a stunning wedding accessory in your hair.

Wedding.

A word that typically evokes joy for those who dream of uniting with their true love. Wedding days are meant to be filled with happiness, laughter, and tears of joy.

Yet all you felt was a sense of impending doom.

f l a s h b a c k..

“You are to marry the second son of the Iida family! I will not tolerate any more of your tears!” Your father's voice echoed through his cramped office, his weathered face contorted in rage, turning a deep shade of red.

“I don’t want to marry! Not him! Not anyone!” Despite your desperate protests and screams, your father's resolve remained unshaken. The sharp sting on your cheek from his slap left your ears ringing and your face burning, but you stood your ground, facing the man who had turned your life into a nightmare.

Your mother stood at the doorway, doing nothing to help as you struggled for control over your own life. When you turned to her, desperation in your eyes, her expression was icy, barely meeting your gaze. Your hands clutched hers, but she didn’t return the grip. Instead, she directed her attention to her husband. “The Iida family will cover the entire cost of the wedding.” Then she finally turned back to you, squeezing your hands, but the gesture felt anything but reassuring. “Stop acting like a child. It’s time for you to get married and contribute to this family.”

End of flashback.

“You make such an amazing bride.” She whispered, her eyes brimming with tears as she smiled, smoothing her hands down your arm before moving them up to give your shoulders a light squeeze. When you were a child your mother’s touch and gentle smiles used to bring you nothing but peace and comfort, but now her touches and gentle smiles left you disgusted, filled with anger.

Your hair was thoroughly brushed then pinned up into an elegant bun by a hairpiece that resembled doves. Your dress was a striking white, your shoulders and back was exposed, the silky lace gently tickled your shoulders and legs, your veil laid against a chair beside you, matching the same striking white lace of your wedding gown, little white doves decorated it.

You should’ve felt beautiful, the dress and your makeup was truly beautiful but all you felt was the tears threatening to spill and ruin your makeup. The gentle smile your mother offered you slightly wavered at your expression, her hands that were once gently squeezing your shoulders grew hard, her nails slightly digging into you. “Remember, you’re a grown woman, there’s no need to cry like a child.”

Her words pricked something deep inside you, your legs pushed you up before your brain could catch up to your movements. For a moment, a flicker of fear flashed in your mothers eyes as you stared at her down. “Get out.”

She was out the room within seconds, not sparing you a glance as she closed the door. For the next few minutes, your thoughts consumed every inch of your brain till they were shattered by the door opening. “I said I wanted to be alone! Why can’t you-” You paused in an instant, your yell silencing in your throat.

There stood Mrs, Iida with a wary look, her hands clutching a small white box. “Hello dear.” The corner of her eyes wrinkled when she smiled, softly closing the door as she walked further into the room. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to..” Her fingers circled around your wrist, silencing you once more. “There’s no need to apologize, I understand this whole…thing can be frightening. I just wish I could’ve changed the outcome.”

You both fell silent, the only sound being the soft rustle of the box being unwrapped by Mrs. Iida. “This was a gift to me on my wedding day, I want you to have it now.” It was a pretty pearl bracelet with a dove charm attached to it. “I added the dove, very fitting for your wedding theme.” She chuckled lightly, sliding your wedding dress right sleeve up to put the bracelet on before giving your wrist a comforting squeeze. “You look stunning, dear. I’m truly sorry that neither of us were given a choice in love.”

For the first time in months, you felt comforted by a mother’s touch, nuzzling your face into her shoulder as you pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

“Calm.” Mrs. Iida’s voice was gentle as she held your arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze while you both stood behind a large white door. The soft murmur of conversation filtered through, barely audible. You took a deep breath, but it did little to calm your nerves. Instead, you placed your hand over hers and closed your eyes, waiting for the soft notes of a song to begin. As the doors slowly opened, the chatter faded into silence.

There stood your husband, dressed in a crisp white tuxedo, save for the red tie that matched his eyes, his hands neatly clasped behind him. Since the announcement of your engagement, you had barely spoken to him.

Turbo Hero: Ingenium was finally getting married after years of insisting he wouldn’t settle down while there were still villains to defeat. The media was eager to uncover the identity of his bride, shattering the quiet you once cherished with their flashing cameras and intrusive questions.

Even at your wedding, their cameras flashed as you walked down the aisle strewn with white rose petals. Your gaze remained locked on his, your hand resting on his mother’s trembling slightly, your breath unsteady.

And for some odd reason, when he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back.

A warm tingle spread from your fingers to your hands and up your arm as Mrs. Iida placed your hand in Tenya’s. His smile remained steady, though yours faltered for just a moment.

“Hello,” he whispered, tilting his head slightly, causing a few strands of dark hair to fall over his eyes. You bowed your head slightly before meeting his gaze again. “Hi.”

The priest cleared his throat and began the ceremony. You found it hard to focus on his words, instead getting lost in the depths of Tenya’s eyes. It wasn’t that you admired his gaze; it was just the only thing that kept you grounded amidst the sea of eyes and flashing cameras.

“Now, Tenya Iida,” the priest began, a jolt of anxiety coursing through you. You had been so absorbed in his eyes that you hadn’t realized the priest was nearing the end of vows. “Do you take this lovely woman to be your bride?”

For a moment, your breath caught in your throat as Tenya’s gaze shifted from yours to the priest and back again. A part of you feared he might say no, and you almost wished he would. “I do,” he finally said, and a wave of emotion washed over you. If it weren’t for his hands holding yours, you might have collapsed.

Now it was your turn to face the priest as he asked you the same question, pausing to await your response. Your heart raced, feeling as if it might burst from your chest. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you opened your mouth, your voice trembling. “...I...I do.”

The priest smiled at you both before continuing. “Then may the Lord’s kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously fulfill His blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder.” He paused, placing a white cloth over your joined hands. “In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss!”

In that moment, you completely forgot about the kiss. So when Tenya lifted your veil and cupped your face, your body froze. The guests erupted in applause and the cameras flashed, capturing the brief, sweet kiss that sealed your vows.

Tenya held your face for a moment longer before releasing you, taking your hands in his as he turned to face the audience, pulling you closer until your back pressed against his chest. The bright lights of the cameras momentarily blinded you, making you blink rapidly as tears spilled down your cheeks. You lowered your head slightly, dabbing at your tears.

Tenya’s hands moved to your waist, leaning down so his lips brushed against your ear. White petals drifting down around you both, and the applause of your guests faded into a distant hum. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Iida.”

it's finally here! i rewrote this chapter so many times y'all.

enjoy this short-ish first chapter!

[acute-scary]

Between the Ropes.. a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley Fanfic.

Chapter 15: Now Wait A Damn Hour..

Rhea sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by the warmth of furry bodies—her pets snuggled close, and Jon and Trinity’s dogs sprawled out on the floor around her. The comforting sound of Snapped droned in the background, but Rhea was more invested in the chips she was munching on, crinkling the bag as she reached for another handful.

Her eyes were fixed on the screen when a scene unfolded. "That's where he fucked up!" she exclaimed, pointing at the TV. "Do you see that shit, guys? Left the damn murder weapon!" The dogs’ ears perked up at her voice, some looking her way as if they understood her frustration. “Amateurs," she muttered, shaking her head as she tossed a chip toward one of the dogs, who happily caught it.

Jey had been gone for what felt like hours, and her stomach growled, reminding her that she was waiting on only two things: Hawaiian pizza and brownies. How hard could it be to find that in Florida? she thought to herself, glancing at the time on her phone. She was just about ready to order DoorDash if he didn’t show up soon. Her hunger was gnawing at her now, and the thought of warm pizza was starting to make her impatient.

Suddenly, her phone rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. She jumped, her heart skipping a beat as she fumbled for it on the couch. Rhea had forgotten she’d changed her ringtone and the unfamiliar sound made her chest tighten with unease. She grabbed the phone and answered without checking the number, a knot forming in her stomach.

“Hello. You have a collect call from the Orange County Jail from Inmate Number 2498148 … 'Matthew Adams,' do you wish to accept the charges?”

Her breath caught in her throat. The sound of Matt’s name made her blood run cold. She stared at the phone for a split second, heart pounding, before she abruptly hung up. A shiver ran down her spine, and her hands shook as she blocked the number.

She quickly called Jey, her fingers trembling as she dialed. The phone rang, and Rhea anxiously waited for him to pick up, her thoughts spiraling.

The phone rang once, twice, and by the third ring, Rhea was tapping her foot anxiously against the floor, biting her lip. Finally, Jey’s voice came through, a bit muffled but familiar.

“Yo, what’s up?”

“Where are you?” Rhea blurted out, her voice sharp with a mix of fear and frustration.

There was a pause on the other end. “I’m about ten minutes out, got caught in traffic. I’ve got the pizza and brownies. What’s wrong? You sound off babe.”

Rhea swallowed hard, trying to calm herself, but the chill from Matt’s call still clung to her. “Matt,” she whispered, barely able to say his name aloud. “He just called. From jail.”

The line went silent for a moment before Jey spoke again, his voice low and serious. “Did you answer it?”

“I—I didn’t mean to. I didn’t recognize the number, and then I heard his name, and I just hung up. I blocked it, but—God, Jey, I didn’t think I’d ever hear from him again.”

Jey cursed under his breath. “That bastard. I swear, if I ever—” He cut himself off, trying to rein in his anger. “He’s just trying to mess with you, babe. He knows he’s lost. Don’t let him get in your head.”

Rhea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m trying, but after everything… the baby, the hospital, the detectives—" She paused, her voice trembling. "I thought it was over. Why is he still doing this? Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

Jey’s voice softened, filled with concern. “I’m almost there, okay? Just hang tight. We’ll figure this out together, like we always do.”

Rhea nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. She needed him here, more than ever. “Okay. Just… hurry.”

They ended the call, and Rhea sat there for a moment, staring at her phone, her heart still racing. She glanced down at the dogs, who had sensed her distress and were now crowding closer, their eyes filled with concern. She reached out to pet them, her fingers sinking into their soft fur as a way to ground herself. The warmth from them was comforting, but it didn’t chase away the chill that Matt’s call had left behind.

Jey had always been her anchor in the chaos, and she needed that now more than ever. The weight of everything — the affair, the pregnancy, the loss — was becoming heavier each day, and now, with Matt trying to claw his way back into her life, it felt like she was being suffocated all over again.

Rhea took a deep breath, pushing the fear aside. She had faced worse. She was strong. But deep down, she couldn’t deny the fact that Matt’s shadow still lingered over her life, and now, he had made his presence known once again. She clenched her fists. Not again. Not this time.

Minutes felt like hours as she waited for Jey. When the door finally swung open, the smell of pizza hit her before Jey even said a word. He stepped into the room with Jon trailing behind, carrying the pizza and brownies, but the look on his face showed he was more concerned about her than anything else.

“I’m here,” he said softly, setting the food down on the coffee table before walking over to her. Without hesitation, he pulled her into his arms, and she melted into him, feeling the weight of her fear and anxiety momentarily lift as his warmth enveloped her.

“He’s not gonna touch you, ever again,” Jey whispered against her hair. “Not while I’m here.”

Rhea clung to him, her eyes shut tight as she let his words sink in. For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to feel safe. But in the back of her mind, she knew this wasn’t the end. Not yet.

As Rhea pulled away from Jey’s arms, Jon stood nearby, watching them with concern. After a moment, he broke the silence.

“Rhea, you need to change your number,” Jon said, his voice gentle but firm. “Blocking him won’t stop him forever. This is the only way to make sure he can’t reach you again.”

Jey nodded, stepping in to back him up. “Yeah, I’ll add you to my plan, make it easy. We can do it today. No more of this Matt crap getting in your head.”

Rhea broke free from the hug and shook her head. “I don’t want to run. I’m not hiding from him,” she said, frustration creeping into her voice. “I’m not going to let him make me live in fear.”

Jon stepped closer, his face soft with understanding but still firm. “This isn’t running, Rhea. It’s protecting yourself. You’re not giving him power—you’re just putting up walls so he can’t reach you. That’s not weakness. It’s strength.”

Rhea looked away for a moment, chewing on her lip as she thought about it. Jon had a point, but it still felt like she was giving in, in some small way. After a beat, she sighed, nodding. “Okay… you’re right. I’ll do it.”

Jon gave a slight smile of approval, and Jey’s serious expression lightened. “Good. Now let’s focus on something better, like food.” He moved to the coffee table, flipping open the pizza box.

Rhea’s eyes narrowed as she glanced at the box. “Hold on… is that Pizza Hut?” she asked, raising a brow.

Jey grinned, pulling out a slice of the Hawaiian pizza she’d requested. “Yeah, it was the fastest option. What, not fancy enough for you?”

Rhea took the slice, biting into it with a smirk. “No, no, it’s perfect. I just thought it’d be my last meal before I end up on Snapped. You know, murder charges and all that.” Her tone was dark, but the joke was clear.

Jey burst out laughing, while Jon chuckled and shook his head. “You’ve got a twisted sense of humor, you know that?” Jey said, still laughing.

“Hey,” Rhea said, waving the pizza slice. “If I ever get caught, it won’t be because I left the damn murder weapon out like those idiots.” She shot a look at the TV, where Snapped was still playing in the background.

Jey grinned, sitting down beside her with his own slice. “Nah, you’re way too smart for that. If anyone’s surviving this mess, it’s you.”

Rhea smiled, feeling a little more grounded. It wasn’t over, but for the first time in days, she gained control.

--

Jey lay on the king-sized bed, his phone pressed to his ear as he spoke to the customer service representative. Meanwhile, Rhea sat cross-legged beside him, carefully painting her nails a sleek black. Jon, stretched out on the floor with his dogs lounging around him, was taking in the scene with quiet amusement.

"$1,600 for a phone?" Jey exclaimed, clearly in disbelief. Rhea flashed him a mischievous smile but kept her focus on her nails.

"Yeah, yeah, I still want to get it. It’s the only one she wants…" Jey added reluctantly, glancing at her as if he had no choice in the matter. Rhea just shrugged with a smirk, clearly enjoying how easily she could sway him.

"Desert Titanium, 1TB. No, I don’t need the AppleCare," Jey said, and before he could react, Rhea punched him lightly on the shoulder using her dried hand.

“Ow—nevermind! I’ll take the AppleCare,” Jey quickly corrected himself, giving her a side-eye as he rubbed his arm. “No, I don’t need a case…” Before he could finish, Rhea punched him again, this time a little harder.

“Oww! Okay, okay, a case! A pink one.” Jey grinned, trying to get a rise out of her.

Rhea wasn’t having it and immediately threw another punch.

“Ow! Fine, fine, a black one! I’m sorry,” Jey groaned, defeated, as Jon watched the entire exchange from the floor, barely containing his laughter.

"$49 for a car charger?" Jey blurted out, the incredulity back in his voice. This time, before Rhea could punch him, he held up his hand in defense. But Rhea was quicker. With a grin, she used her foot instead, lightly kicking him in the side.

“Owww… okay, yes, please! Throw in whatever other accessories you’ve got; I’m begging you,” Jey pleaded, his voice a mix of pain and surrender. Jon burst out laughing, thoroughly entertained by the whole ordeal.

When Jey finally got off the phone, he turned to Rhea, a playful smirk on his face. “Your Highness, your $1,800 phone order will be ready for pickup tomorrow, Saturday, at 3:30 PM,” he said with exaggerated amusement, bowing his head slightly in mock servitude.

Rhea smiled, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Good boy,” she teased, and they both laughed, feeling at ease in the comfort of each other’s company.

Jon, still lying on the floor, wiped a tear from his eye, unable to stop laughing at Jey’s ordeal. "You two are something else," he muttered, shaking his head as his dogs nuzzled him.

“Bestieeeee!” Rhea exclaimed, practically glowing as she wiggled her freshly painted black nails in front of Jey. Her excitement was infectious.

“Oooh, girrrrl!” Jey responded in a playful tone, admiring her nails. “Looking fierce!”

Jon, lounging on the floor with the dogs, glanced up with a bored expression. “What are we going to do? I’m getting kind of restless here.”

Jey chuckled, shaking his head. “Uce’, you can’t just enjoy a comfortable situation for once? Always gotta be on the go, huh?”

Before Jon could respond, there was a knock on the door. The sudden sound made all three of them freeze, curiosity piqued.

“I’ll get it you scaredy cats.” Jon said, pushing himself off the floor and heading towards the stairs.

As he made his way down, he called out, “Awh hell, bisexual Undertaker is in Uso territory!” His laugh echoed up the stairs, mingling with the sound of his footsteps.

Rhea’s eyes widened in excitement, and despite the pain in her abdomen, she sprang up from the bed, moving with surprising speed. She darted towards the stairs, nearly tripping in her haste but managing to catch herself just in time. Her smile was so wide it seemed to light up the entire hallway.

When Rhea reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw Damian standing at the door, his presence commanding and warm.

“Damian!” she shouted, her voice filled with joy.

Damian grinned, taking in the sight of Rhea’s enthusiasm. “Hey there, my Tormenta.” He said even with a bigger smile.

Rhea ran to him, almost tackling him with a hug. “I can’t believe you’re here! This is the best surprise ever!”

Jey appeared at the top of the stairs, looking down with a pleased expression. “Guess I should’ve known you’d show up when we least expected it.”

Damian laughed, ruffling Rhea’s hair. “I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d drop by. Hope I’m not interrupting anything too serious.”

Rhea shook her head, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “No way, this is exactly what we needed. Come on in, let’s hang out!”

Damian stepped inside, and the group began to settle back into the living room. The atmosphere lightened as they prepared to enjoy the unexpected visit. For the first time in a while, Rhea felt a genuine sense of joy, surrounded by her best friend.

—

As the music from the speakers filled the patio once more, creating a lively and upbeat atmosphere, Jon busied himself with his phone, ordering some more food and drinks. He turned to Damian with a grin, asking, “What kind of beer do you want?”

Damian shrugged casually, “Whatever you’re drinking is fine by me.”

“Got it,” Jon replied, tapping away on his phone as he added a few more items to the order.

Soon enough, all four of them—Rhea, Jey, Jon, and Damian—settled comfortably on the back patio. The pets were a whirlwind of activity, running around the backyard and adding to the joyful chaos. The warm evening air and the sounds of their laughter made the setting feel almost like a scene from a perfect day.

Rhea, still bubbling with excitement from Damian’s unexpected arrival, turned to him with curiosity. “So, Damian, how did you end up here? And why’d you leave Kayden at the Airbnb?”

Damian chuckled, leaning back in his chair with a relaxed demeanor. “Well, Mr. Hothead over here,” he said, gesturing to Jon with a playful smirk, “called me up yesterday and asked if I could be a… como… a Happy Dark Presence in his home for his fellow Samoan. Couldn’t say no to that. I also didn’t leave Kayden at the AirBnb. She had Tiffany come and stay with her, I told her you needed cheering up and she understood.”

Rhea’s face lit up with pure joy. “That’s amazing! I’m so glad you’re here. You really made my day.”

Jey, sitting beside Rhea, chuckled at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, I guess I did keep you locked up this morning, didn’t I?”

Damian grinned, winking at Jey. “You know, it’s like I’m Shrek and Rhea’s Fiona and you are Fiona’s dad. Just needed a little help to get out of that tower.”

Rhea burst into laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh my God, that’s perfect! Damian, you’re definitely our Shrek.”

Jey laughed along with the others, shaking his head. “As long as I’m not Lord Farquad, then I guess I can live with it.”

As the conversation flowed seamlessly, Rhea’s curiosity about Jon and Jey’s tattoos grew. “I’d love to hear more about your tattoos,” she said, leaning in. “I’ve seen bits of them, but I want to know the stories behind them.”

Jon and Jey exchanged an amused glance. Jon began to explain with enthusiasm, “Our tattoos are deeply significant. They reflect our Samoan heritage, each design representing aspects of family, strength, and personal journey. They’re not just tattoos; they’re a narrative of who we are.”

Rhea’s eyes sparkled with interest. “That’s incredible. I’ve been thinking about getting a new tattoo. Something with real meaning.”

Jon’s eyes lit up with a mix of excitement and mischief. “Would you consider a traditional Samoan tattoo, Rhea?”

Damian nodded encouragingly. “It would be a great way for you to mark this new chapter in your life. It’s a powerful form of self-expression.”

Jon added, “Our tattoo artist is at our dad’s house right now. With one call, he could be here in an hour.”

Rhea’s face brightened at the thought. “That sounds fantastic! I’d really love that.”

Jey, who had been quietly observing, suddenly interrupted with a firm, “No, no, no…”

Rhea looked at him, confused. “What do you mean, no?”

Jey’s gaze faltered, struggling to find the right words. His mind was racing with emotions he hadn’t fully expressed. The reason for his hesitation was more profound than he had initially let on. He wanted to get matching traditional Samoan wedding tattoos with Rhea. It wasn’t just about getting inked; it was about symbolizing their commitment to each other in a way that was deeply meaningful.

Jey’s voice softened, laden with emotion. “It’s not the right time for that. I don’t want you to rush into something like this.”

Rhea, sensing there was more to Jey’s reluctance, nodded and excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Jey, Jon, and Damian alone in the patio.

As soon as Rhea was out of sight, Jey turned to Jon with a troubled expression. “Don’t tempt her like that,” he said quietly but firmly.

Damian, picking up on Jey’s distress, asked, “What’s going on?”

Jey took a deep breath, his face reflecting a mix of vulnerability and determination. “I want to marry Rhea,” he confessed, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve been thinking about it for a long time. I finally talked to the attorney today and he started on my divorce. I was hoping to get matching traditional Samoan wedding tattoos with her. It’s something that’s deeply meaningful to me. It’s not just about a tattoo; it’s about marking our commitment, our future together in a way that honors our heritage.”

Jon’s expression shifted to one of understanding. “So, it’s not just about the tattoo. You want it to be a part of a bigger commitment.”

Jey nodded, his eyes earnest. “Exactly. I want it to be special, something that signifies our journey together and our promise to each other. I didn’t want her to rush into a tattoo without understanding how important this is to me. I want it to be something we do together, when we’re both ready for it.”

Damian’s eyes softened, touched by Jey’s heartfelt confession. “Jey, that’s incredibly meaningful. It’s clear you’re thinking about this with a lot of love and respect.”

Jon clapped Jey on the shoulder. “You’re right. It should be something truly special. You should talk to her when you’re ready. She’ll understand.”

The moment she excused herself from the patio, Rhea’s excitement about Damian’s surprise was tinged with an underlying tension. As she walked towards the bathroom, she felt a familiar pull toward the bedroom. The pain in her abdomen had been nagging at her, and the stress of everything lately was becoming overwhelming.

Once inside the bedroom, she made her way to the dresser where she kept her pain pills. She had been taking them more frequently lately, savoring the temporary relief they brought. The escape they provided was becoming a comfort, and she was starting to crave that sensation more and more.

Rhea grabbed the small bottle of pills as she thought of a very awful idea. As she shook out a few tablets, she felt a pang of guilt for needing them so badly, but the allure of the numbness was too strong to resist. She looked around the room, searching for something to help her crush the pills into a fine powder. Her eyes landed on a small glass vase with fake flowers, which added a touch of charm to the room.

The vase seemed perfect for the task. She picked it up, feeling its cool, smooth surface in her hand. With a determined expression, she used the vase to crush the pills into powder. Each motion of the vase against the pills made her heart race with anticipation. The process was oddly satisfying, almost ritualistic. Once the pills were reduced to a fine powder, she wiped the bottom with her hand and she placed the vase back on the shelf, trying to fix it to it's right place.

Her hands trembled slightly as she prepared to snort the powdered pills. She knew it wasn’t the safest method, but the instant relief was too tempting. She pulled out her wallet from dresser drawer and pulled a debit card out. She used it fix it into three perfect lines, she then wiped off the debit card and grabbed a crisp dollar from her wallet, she rolled it into a makeshift straw and with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, she did the unthinkable...

The act of snorting the powder was a jarring experience, but as the effects began to kick in, she felt a rush of relief that made the discomfort and anxiety melt away. The numbing sensation started to spread through her, dulling the sharp edges of her reality. She leaned against the wall, her mind drifting in a haze of euphoria.

For a brief moment, everything felt lighter. The weight of her worries and the strain of the day seemed to dissolve into nothingness. She allowed herself to sink into the comforting embrace of the high, feeling both liberated and trapped in the same breath. She knew she was slipping further into a dangerous habit, but for now, she couldn’t bring herself to care. She quickly wiped her nose off and checked herself in the mirror, she wiped off the remaining residue and quickly washed her hands.

As she slowly made her way back to the patio, the world around her felt distant, almost dreamlike. She plastered a smile on her face, hoping to hide the fact that she was high and not fully present. Despite the warmth of her friends and the joy of Damian’s surprise, Rhea couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that she was losing control, even as the pills provided her a fleeting sense of euphoria.

--

A few hours earlier, Jon sat quietly in the lobby area of Brentley and Barnum Law Firm, tapping his foot nervously against the polished floor. He glanced around at the modern decor—tasteful, minimalist, designed to put clients at ease. But Jon wasn’t at ease. He hated this waiting game simply because he could only look at tiktok for so long.

Inside the sleek office, Jey sat across from Julian, the lawyer WWE had hired for him. Julian was calm, professional, and had an air of confidence that came with years of navigating high-stakes legal battles. After discussing Matt’s arrest and the legal implications for Rhea and Jey, Julian finally leaned back in his chair and gave the update Jey had been waiting for.

“You and Rhea can leave Orlando on Sunday,” Julian said. “Given the charges against Matt and his current incarceration, there’s no legal reason for you to stay here any longer.”

Jey exhaled, feeling a small weight lift from his chest. "Good," he muttered, though the thought of Matt still being out there, even behind bars, gnawed at him. He shifted in his seat, his mind racing toward a different issue—his marriage to Takecia.

“I wanted to ask you something else,” Jey said, his voice quieter now. He met Julian’s eyes, hesitant for a moment before continuing, “Can you represent me in my divorce?”

Julian raised an eyebrow, intrigued but not surprised. “Your divorce in California?”

Jey nodded. “Yeah, San Francisco. Takecia’s already got herself a lawyer. It’s… it’s happening.”

Julian thought for a moment before responding. “I still have my license in California. That’s where I started my practice. I can absolutely represent you, Jey, but we’ll need to go over the details.”

Jey nodded again, appreciating the professionalism. He wanted this done quickly, cleanly. He didn’t want any more mess than there already was in his life. “I’m going for an uncontested divorce. We’ve already talked about it, and she’s laid out her demands.”

Julian sat up straighter, the gears in his mind turning as he considered the process. “An uncontested divorce means you both agree on all terms—no arguments, no drawn-out court battles. It’s usually the smoother option. However, you’ll still have to deal with California’s six-month waiting period before the divorce is finalized.”

“I understand,” Jey said. “I just want to be fair. For the petition, I’m agreeing to pay for our kids’ college education, we’re going to do shared custody, and Takecia keeps the house. That’s what she wants.”

Julian leaned forward, tapping his pen thoughtfully against his legal pad. “That’s a reasonable arrangement, especially if you’re both on the same page. But are you sure about giving her the house? It’s a significant asset.”

Jey nodded firmly. “Yeah. The house is where she’s raising our kids. I don’t need it.”

Julian took notes, satisfied with Jey’s clarity on the situation. “Okay. We’ll file the petition with those terms. I’ll need you to sign some documents to get things moving, and after that, we’ll let the legal process take its course. You’re looking at about six months before it’s finalized, as I mentioned.”

Jey rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a strange mixture of relief and sadness. Six months. Six months of waiting, of knowing his marriage was ending, of officially closing that chapter of his life. A part of him felt guilt for how it had all unraveled, but another part of him felt an overwhelming sense of inevitability. His heart hadn’t been with Takecia for a long time, not since he met Rhea. This was just the final step in a process that had begun months ago.

Julian glanced over the papers, then looked back at Jey. “If you’re sure this is what you want, I’ll handle it. You’ll be free to move on with your life once everything’s finalized.”

Jey swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. I’m sure. Just… let’s get it done.”

The lawyer nodded, wrapping up the conversation as they stood to shake hands. Jey left Julian’s office feeling like he was walking toward a new beginning but also carrying the weight of his past. As he walked back into the lobby, Jon looked up from his seat, his expression a blend of curiosity and concern.

“How’d it go?” Jon asked, standing up to meet him.

Jey sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s happening. The divorce is going through. Six months, and it’s over.”

Jon clapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. “It’s for the best, Uce. You deserve to be happy.”

Jey didn’t respond right away, but he nodded, the weight of the decision settling into his chest. There was no turning back now. The path forward was clearer than ever, but that didn’t make it any easier to walk.

--

As the evening wore on, Rhea, Damian, Jey, and Jon were all in high spirits, enjoying each other's company and the warmth of Damian’s surprise visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly as each of them each hard a topic to talk about. Suddenly, Damian’s phone rang, breaking into their lively discussion.

“Excuse me for a moment,” Damian said, standing up and stepping away from the group to take the call.

Rhea watched him with a curious glance, but the conversation was muffled as Damian moved a few paces away. After a few moments, Damian’s face tightened with concern, and he responded more seriously.

“Hey, Dominik. What’s up?” Damian asked.

There was a pause as Dominik Mysterio’s voice came through the line. “Hey, Damian. I just got a call from Matt. He’s in jail and apparently looking for Rhea. Do you know anything about this?”

Damian’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Matt. He had been hoping the situation would remain under control, but it seemed Matt’s attempts to reach out were escalating. Damian’s mind raced with the implications.

“Yeah, I know,” Damian replied, his tone heavy with apprehension. “Matt has been trying to contact Rhea. But please, don’t say anything about this to anyone else. It’s important.”

Dominik didn’t ask for further details, simply acknowledging Damian’s request. “Got it. I won’t say a word.”

Damian sighed with relief as the call ended. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself before heading back to the group. With a determined look, he pulled out his phone and quickly sent a message to Paul Levesque, their boss.

Damian: Matt is going around calling other wrestlers, trying to reach Rhea. We need to handle this immediately.

Paul’s response came almost instantly.

Paul: I’ll take care of it. Thanks for the heads-up.

Damian put his phone away, a grim expression on his face as he rejoined the group. He forced a smile, trying to mask his concern, but the weight of Matt’s actions was clearly on his mind.

Jey noticed the shift in Damian’s demeanor and leaned in, concern evident. “Everything okay, Damian?”

Damian nodded, though his eyes betrayed his worry. “Yeah, just… had to deal with something. But we’re good for now. Let’s focus on enjoying the evening.”

The group resumed their conversation, but the shadow of Matt’s threat loomed over them, a reminder that not everything was as carefree as it seemed. Rhea, still feeling the effects of her earlier actions, was more focused on the present moment, trying to savor the time with her friends and momentarily push aside her anxieties.

As the night wore on, the clock struck 1 a.m., and Jon, heavily buzzed from the evening's festivities, excused himself, stumbling slightly as he made his way toward the guest room. He was ready for bed and couldn’t help but chuckle at Jey’s parting joke about needing lotion since Trinity was out of town.

“Shut up, Uce,” Jon said with a grin, flipping Jey off.

Damian, who had been enjoying the playful banter, chimed in with a smirk. “I guess I’m stuck with the couple tonight then.”

Jey grinned. “Uce, I love you, but Damian, you going on my nephew’s bed. Sorry, man.”

Rhea, still buzzing from the earlier excitement but feeling the weight of her own issues, laughed at the banter. As they all moved back inside, they gathered the pets, ushering them into the house with them. The house was now a cozy chaos of people and animals, but there was an underlying sense of warmth and camaraderie.

Jey showed Damian to the kid’s bedroom, a cheerful room full of toys and colorful decor. “Goodnight, Damian. If you need the bathroom, it’s just down the hall.”

Damian thanked him and bid goodnight to Rhea, who gave him a heartfelt hug. “Goodnight, Rhea. Sleep well.”

As Rhea and Jey headed to their own room, Jey couldn’t help but notice Rhea’s sluggish, almost detached manner. It was concerning, especially since she hadn’t had much to drink that evening. He tried to catch her eye, but she was already pulling her shirt over her body, revealing just her bra. For the first time, Jey’s attention was drawn to the bandage covering her abdomen, a reminder of the recent trauma she had endured.

Rhea noticed Jey’s gaze lingering on her bandage and, with a hint of defensiveness, asked, “What, don’t you want to fuck me anymore?”

Jey’s face fell, taken aback by the bluntness of her comment. It was completely out of character for her, and he could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes. He struggled to find the right words, feeling the weight of everything that had happened recently.

“It’s not that,” Jey said softly. “It’s just… with everything that’s been going on, I’m worried about you. I didn’t mean to make you feel… less.”

Rhea rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated. “I’m not a damn glass doll, Jey. I’m fine.”

Jey’s confusion deepened. They had just enjoyed a great night with friends, and now she was acting as if everything was falling apart. He could see the hurt in her eyes, the pain masked by her attempts to appear strong.

Rhea, with a sigh, put her shirt back on and climbed into bed, her back turned to Jey. The room fell into a heavy silence, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Jey lay beside her, his mind racing as he tried to understand the sudden shift in her mood. The night had started with laughter and companionship, but now it was tinged with a sense of melancholy and confusion.

As Rhea lay still, facing away from him, Jey reached out, hesitating for a moment before placing a hand gently on her shoulder. “Rhea,” he said softly, “talk to me. What’s going on?”

But Rhea remained silent, the only response the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed. The weight of the night’s events pressed down on both of them, leaving them in a tangled web of emotions that neither knew how to unravel.

Jey’s frustration grew as he faced Rhea’s silence. Despite his repeated pleas to talk, she remained resolutely turned away. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside him. It wasn’t right, he knew that. He felt a pang of guilt, but his concern for her overshadowed his reservations.

He gently pulled her back toward him, his touch tender. For a moment, Rhea’s face lit up with the familiar, radiant smile that he loved so much. It was a small, fleeting comfort in the midst of their turmoil.

“What do you want daddy to do to you?” he asked softly, trying to keep his tone light despite the heaviness in his heart.

Rhea’s eyes, clouded and distant, barely focused on him. Her voice was a sluggish, almost inaudible slur. “Everything…”

The word hung in the air, and Jey felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The haze in her eyes and the way she spoke made him uneasy. This wasn’t the Rhea he knew. She was slipping into a state he didn’t fully understand, and it troubled him deeply.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, his voice barely a whisper. “Soon,” he said, hoping to provide some comfort despite his own confusion and worry.

Rhea’s smile faded, and she rolled back onto her side, clearly irritated by his response. The warmth between them evaporated, leaving only a cold silence in its wake. Jey watched her, feeling a pang of helplessness. He had wanted to reach out to her, to fix what was wrong, but instead, it seemed he only managed to deepen the rift.

As Rhea settled back into bed, facing away from him, the room grew heavy with unspoken emotions. Jey lay there, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the night pressing down on him. He knew that Rhea was struggling, but he felt powerless to help her in the way she needed. His heart ached as he grappled with the complexity of her pain and his own sense of inadequacy.

The silence stretched on, filled with the quiet hum of the house and the distant sound of the pets moving about. Jey remained awake, his mind racing with worries and regrets, while Rhea’s shallow, uneven breaths filled the quiet room. The distance between them seemed insurmountable, and he wondered how they could bridge the gap that had grown so suddenly between them.

As the night wore on, the darkness outside mirrored the uncertainty within, and Jey was left alone with his thoughts, yearning for a solution he couldn’t yet grasp.

--

Rhea woke up with a pounding headache, her mind foggy from the previous night’s haze. The dim light filtering through the curtains only added to her discomfort. As she groaned and tried to sit up, the realization of not having showered before going to bed hit her. She glanced at Jey, who was still sleeping soundly beside her, his soft snoring a faint reminder of the comfort she had once felt.

She slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. With a groggy sense of urgency, she undressed and headed towards the bathroom, not fully processing her surroundings. Her foggy state of mind led her to forget that this was not their home and that Jon, Damian, and Jey were all in the house.

Turning on the shower, Rhea stepped under the hot water, letting it cascade over her and ease the tension in her muscles. The steam enveloped her, and she let out a sigh of relief as the heat worked its magic on her aching head. The shower was a sanctuary, a brief escape from the confusion and discomfort of the previous night.

After a few minutes, Rhea turned off the water, wrapped a towel around her body, and walked back towards the bedroom. The house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle of the pets in the other rooms. As she reentered the room, she saw that Jey had woken up.

He looked at her with a mixture of confusion and concern. The sight of her in a towel, freshly showered and smiling, seemed out of place considering the mood from the night before. She approached him with a warm, somewhat uncertain smile and leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Jey’s confusion deepened. “Morning, Rhea,” he said, his voice groggy. “You feeling okay?”

Rhea nodded, though she couldn’t fully remember the details of last night. “Yeah, I’m just… trying to shake off this headache. I forgot to shower and just needed to freshen up.”

Jey sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to piece together the previous night. He was still processing the sudden shift in her mood and the oddity of her early morning actions. “You’re not making much sense, Rhea. Last night—”

“I know,” she interrupted, her voice soft but determined. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember much, but I’m trying to make things right. I just wanted to start the day fresh.”

Jey took a deep breath, sensing that there was more beneath the surface of her cheerful facade. He reached out and took her hand gently. “Rhea, if something’s wrong, we need to talk about it. You can’t keep pushing it away.”

Rhea smiled weakly and squeezed his hand. “Let’s enjoy the morning and figure things out as we go.”

Jey hesitated but nodded, sensing that pushing further might only cause more strain. He watched as Rhea got dressed and moved around the room, a sense of unease still lingering between them. He wanted to understand what was going on, but for now, he decided to give her the space she seemed to need.

As Rhea prepared for the day, Jey remained thoughtful, the unease in his heart growing. He knew they needed to address the issues between them, but for now, he could only hope that the day would bring clarity and healing for both of them.

Rhea sat at the vanity, her movements deliberate as she applied her makeup. Her excitement about picking up her new iPhone was like it of a kid in a candy store, a small but significant joy in the midst of everything she had been dealing with. Jey, meanwhile, was styling his hair, focused on making sure he looked presentable for their outing.

“We’re finally getting out of the house,” Rhea said with a smile, her eyes brightening at the thought of the simple trip to the Verizon store.

Jey looked at her through the mirror, a hint of a smile on his lips. “Yeah, it’s about time. I know it’s not much, but it’s a step in the right direction.” Given last night’s tension, he figured he would give in to Rhea and finally take her out.

Damian and Jon had left earlier to explore the city. Damian, eager to see more of Florida, was taking full advantage of the opportunity to explore, as he had only been to the state a few times before. Rhea and Jey were left to themselves, and Jey decided to seize the moment for a quick errand.

Both of them were dressed in all black, a conscious decision by Rhea to cover up and maintain some semblance of privacy. It was a change compared to the usual vibrant colors Jey might wear, but it provided a sense of security and anonymity they craved.

As they left the house and made their way to the Verizon store, Rhea couldn’t help but feel a sense of liberation. The prospect of a new phone and a brief change of scenery was exhilarating, and she welcomed the distraction from the recent turmoil in her life.

When they arrived at the Verizon store, they checked in with the manager to ensure their privacy. To their relief, the store was quiet, with only two elderly women browsing through accessories. The tranquility of the store provided a welcoming to the chaos that had marked their recent days.

The manager greeted them with a friendly smile and guided them to the counter where Rhea’s iPhone was waiting. As Jey and Rhea approached, the manager quickly retrieved the phone from the back and handed it to Rhea with a flourish.

“There you go,” the manager said. “Your iPhone 16 Pro Max in Desert Titanium. I hope you enjoy it! The accessories and case are all here as well.”

Rhea’s eyes lit up as she took the phone, her excitement evident. “Thank you so much! I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Jey watched her with a smile, pleased to see her happiness. “Glad we could get this sorted. Now we just need to get everything set up and you’ll be all set.”

Rhea nodded, her smile unwavering as she admired her new phone. The brief outing had already started to lift her spirits, and she was eager to go somewhere else and Jey knew just the right spot.

As Jey and Rhea left the Verizon store and got into Jon's car, Jey turned to Rhea with a warm smile. “How about we go watch the ocean?” he suggested.

Rhea’s face lit up instantly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Without hesitation, she leaned in and kissed him gently. “I am so in love with you,” she whispered, her eyes brimming with affection.

Jey’s heart swelled at her words. He started the car and began driving towards Titusville, FL, a serene spot just 46 minutes away. As they drove, Rhea reached out and placed her hand on his. Understanding the gesture, Jey gently took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers. The simple touch brought a deep sense of comfort to both of them.

The drive was soothing, with Rhea feeling an unprecedented sense of calm and peace. The rhythmic hum of the car, coupled with the soft music playing through the speakers, added to her tranquility.

Jey's music filled the car, and Rhea found herself smiling as the melodies wrapped around them. “Oh, this is it right here, babe, just for you,” Jey said, his voice carrying a hint of playfulness as he turned up the volume. The familiar beat of "Let Me Hold You" by Bow Wow and Omarion began to play, setting a romantic mood.

As the chorus approached, Jey started singing along..

In my arms in my mind all the time I wanna Keep you right by my side 'til I die I'm gonna Hold you down and make sure everything is right with you You can never go wrong if you let me hold you

His voice steady and full of love as he kept his eyes focused on the road. His singing was a perfect mix of heartfelt and playful, creating a warm atmosphere inside the car.

Rhea couldn’t help but join in, her voice blending with his. Together, they sang along to the song, their voices harmonizing effortlessly. The moment was pure and joyful, a relief to the complications of their recent days.

Down like a real friend's supposed to I'm trying to show you The life of somebody like you should be living Ohhhhh, baby baby You could never go wrong if you let me hold you

The shared experience of singing along to their song, coupled with the comforting rhythm of the drive, made Rhea feel deeply connected to Jey. As the song played on, their hands remained clasped, and their smiles grew wider, their love for each other shining brightly in the soft light of the car.

The ocean was still some miles away, but in that moment, the journey felt like a celebration of their love and a brief escape from the troubles they had faced.

Jey and Rhea finally arrived in Titusville, FL, and Jey headed straight to his favorite spot, the Moonlight Drive Inn. The familiar neon sign and the comforting scent of burgers and fries greeted them.

“Do you want to come inside and check out the menu?” Jey asked, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

Rhea shook her head with a smile. “Just get what you usually get. And add a lemonade for me, please.”

Jey nodded and went inside to place their order. He knew exactly what to get: the mouth-watering bacon double cheeseburger and sweet potato waffle fries. After a brief wait, the cashier called out his number, and Jey collected their food and drinks.

Returning to the car, Jey carefully placed the bags on the floor and made a quick 3-minute drive to the beach. They reached a secluded spot that Jey knew well, perfect for a quiet, intimate meal.

He parked the car and pulled out the two trays from underneath Jon’s car seat. After giving them a quick wipe to ensure they were clean, he retrieved the bags of food. With a gentle smile, he handed one of the bags to Rhea.

“What did you get me?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Jey opened the bag and revealed its contents. “A bacon double cheeseburger and sweet potato waffle fries. And I also grabbed some fried pickles and fried mushrooms for us to share.”

Rhea’s eyes lit up with delight. “You’re the best,” she said, taking the bag from him.

They settled into their seats, the car providing a cozy refuge from the gentle breeze outside. Rhea eagerly unwrapped her burger and took a big bite. Her eyes closed in pleasure as she savored the taste.

“Oh my god,” she moaned, her voice full of satisfaction. “That’s a good fucking burger.”

Jey chuckled, watching her enjoy the food. He took a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. “Told you it was worth it.”

As they ate, the car was filled with the soft sounds of their enjoyment and the rhythmic crashing of the waves in the distance. The simplicity of the meal and the serene setting made the moment feel special, a perfect break from the recent chaos in their lives.

After finishing their meal and taking in the serene view of the ocean, Jey and Rhea found themselves enveloped in a cocoon of intimacy within the car. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore provided a soothing soundtrack as they inched closer, their eyes reflecting the soft glow of the fading sun.

Their kisses started gently, a tender exploration of each other's lips. Each touch was careful and deliberate, as if they were savoring the newfound closeness. Jey’s hands slid to Rhea’s face, his fingers tracing delicate lines along her jaw, his thumb brushing softly against her cheek. Rhea responded with equal devotion, her hands weaving through his hair, pulling him closer, their breaths mingling in the small space of the car.

The passion between them deepened with every kiss, growing more fervent and urgent. Their bodies pressed together, creating a tangible warmth that seemed to ignite the air around them. Jey’s lips moved over Rhea’s with a mix of tenderness and intensity, each kiss conveying a thousand unspoken words of love and desire.

Rhea’s response was just as fervent; she clung to him, her fingers roaming over his back and shoulders, her lips dancing against his with an eagerness that mirrored his own. The world outside their car became a distant blur, leaving them in a cocoon of shared passion and connection. Their kisses were an eloquent expression of the deep bond they felt, each touch and caress a testament to their profound intimacy.

Just as the moment reached its peak, the car’s voice interrupted, announcing a call from Jon.

The car's voice came through, “You've got a call from Twin. Do you want to answer or reject?"

Jey sighed, a bit annoyed at the interruption. “Yes, Jonathan, what do you want?” he answered, trying to mask his frustration.

Jon’s voice crackled through the speaker, carrying a hint of impatience. “Any chance Bonnie and Clyde are joining us for dinner? Me and my lovely wife, who just got in and is a bit cranky, and the bisexual undertaker have booked a reservation for a private dinner.”

Jey couldn’t help but chuckle at Jon’s description. “You’re really laying it on thick, huh? I guess we’ll join you.”

Rhea, overhearing the conversation, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s go. I’m up for it.”

Jey relayed the message to Jon, who confirmed that the reservation was for 9 PM. He then hung up, leaving Jey and Rhea to realize that it was already 6 PM.

After ending the call, Jey looked at Rhea, who was still catching her breath, her cheeks flushed from their passionate encounter. “We’ve got a bit of time before dinner,” Jey said with a playful grin.

Rhea, her smile still lingering from their intimate exchange, shook her head with a soft laugh. “I can’t believe we’ve been lost in each other for almost an hour.”

Jey’s eyes sparkled with affection as he teased her. “You’ve got lungs of steel, you know that?”

Rhea rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. “You’re impossible,” she said, nudging him playfully. The warmth between them was caring, their earlier connection translating into a shared laughter that only deepened their bond.

As they drove back, their hands intertwined, they were both content and at peace. The romance of their moments together had created a beautiful memory, and the anticipation of spending time with Jon, Trinity, and Damian only added to the joy of their evening. They knew that the night ahead would be a cherished continuation of their special connection, filled with moments of warmth, laughter, and love.

—

Rhea stood in front of the open closet, arms crossed, biting her lip as she scanned through Trinity's collection of dresses. The closet was bursting with color — vibrant yellows, deep reds, pastel blues — a more girly change to her own darker wardrobe back home. She tugged at one dress, a flowy floral number, and held it up with a look of mild frustration.

"Why does Trinity have nothing but color?" she muttered, shaking her head as she looked through another handful of dresses.

Jey, stretched out on the bed with his phone in hand, glanced over at her, amused. "Not everyone is as dark as you," he teased, the corners of his lips lifting into a smirk. "But come here for a sec."

Rhea sighed, setting the dress back on its hanger and making her way over to Jey's side, her brows furrowing as she noticed the Zillow app open on his screen. "What is it? Pensacola?" she asked, eyeing the house listing he was showing her.

Jey nodded, sliding the phone into her hand. "Yeah. Trinity and Jon are gonna sell this house. They wanna’ move back to Pensacola."

Rhea blinked, surprised. "Seriously? I thought they loved it here."

"They do," Jey said, sitting up and leaning closer to her. "But Jon’s missing home, and you know how it is with the family. Trinity’s down for it, too. Says she wants to be closer to everyone." He paused for a moment, reading the skepticism on her face. "It's just a rental for now, though. Nothing permanent."

Rhea glanced back at the listing as Jey swiped down showing her the photos of the property, still unsure. She liked the idea of being closer to the family, but a sudden move like this felt...unsettling. Especially after everything that had happened recently. "I don’t know, Jey... I mean, it's been crazy lately. Now moving?"

He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer, kissing her temple. "Babe, it's gonna be alright. Plus, my dad's putting the house in Titusville on Airbnb. He’s moving back to Pensacola, too. Everyone's gonna be around. It’ll be good, trust me."

She looked down at the phone in her hand, then back at Jey, the warmth of his arm around her easing her nerves just a bit. "Yeah, I guess... it could be good. I just don’t want any more surprises, you know?"

Jey smiled, brushing a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. "No more surprises. Just family, okay? We'll figure everything out."

Rhea leaned into him, feeling a small sense of calm as she rested her head on his shoulder. "Alright... I'll trust you. But I still gotta figure out what to wear for this dinner," she added, her voice lightening as she gestured to the colorful closet with a faint chuckle.

Jey grinned, tapping the screen of his phone again. "Well, at least I don’t have to worry about that. I already know what I’m wearing."

Rhea rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him. "Of course you do. Lucky you."

After what felt like an eternity of sifting through endless colorful options, Rhea finally settled on something that felt more like her. She tugged a little black lace dress from the back of the closet — sleek, fitted, and unapologetically bold. As soon as she slid it on, she knew it was the one. The way it hugged her curves made her feel confident, even if it was a bit tighter than she wanted. She twisted around in front of the mirror, admiring the way the lace glistened under the light, but there was one problem — the back was too tight.

Rhea huffed in frustration, tugging at the zipper, but it wouldn’t budge. Defeated, she slipped out of the room and into the bedroom where Jey was still lounging, focused on his phone.

"Jey, can you help me?" she asked, trying to sound casual, but there was a hint of irritation in her voice.

Jey didn’t look up at first, too absorbed in scrolling through his Zillow listings, but the moment he glanced over at her, his jaw nearly dropped. He blinked, slowly lowering the phone as he took in the sight of her in that dress. The tight black lace clung to her in all the right places, and the subtle sheen gave her an almost dangerous allure. He’d seen Rhea look amazing before, but this? This was next level.

“Damn, babe,” Jey muttered, his voice low, clearly blown away. “You look… insane.”

Rhea gave him a smirk, feeling her confidence swell even more at his reaction. "Yeah? Well, you can admire me after you fix this." She turned her back to him, pulling her hair to the side to reveal the too-tight zipper.

Jey got up quickly, still a bit speechless as he moved behind her. His fingers brushed her skin as he carefully loosened the zipper, his eyes never leaving her reflection in the mirror. "You seriously look amazing," he said quietly, his hands lingering for a moment longer than needed as he adjusted the back of the dress.

Rhea caught his gaze in the mirror and smiled, biting her lip. "Glad you like it," she teased. "Now focus, I need to be able to breathe at dinner."

Jey chuckled, finally loosening the zipper just enough to give her some room, he used the buttons inside the dress to fill the gap from the zipper and he couldn’t help himself from letting his hands rest on her waist for a moment longer. "If we weren’t going to dinner with Jon and Trinity, I’d suggest we stay in," he murmured, half-joking, half-serious.

Rhea turned around, playfully swatting his chest. "Nice try. We’re going, and you’re gonna sit across from me and pretend like you’re not thinking about this dress all night."

Jey grinned, pulling her closer for a quick kiss. "Deal. But just know, I’ll be thinking about it."

Jey finally slipped into his outfit, looking sharp and relaxed in his black button-up shirt and fitted jeans. He adjusted his collar in the mirror while Rhea fussed with her makeup, adding the final touches to her look. Once satisfied, he stepped back, nodding to himself. "Alright, I'm heading downstairs," he said, giving Rhea a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving the room.

As he made his way downstairs, he found Damian, Jon, and Trinity standing around in the living room, chatting and laughing. Trinity noticed him first, checking her phone. “It’s almost 8:30… we gotta gooooooo,” she teased, dragging out the words with a playful smirk.

Jey rolled his eyes, pulling his phone out. "Alright, alright. Let me call Rhea before y’all lose it." He reached over the stairs and called up the stairs, "Babe, we gotta roll!"

From upstairs, Rhea’s voice echoed back, "Coming!" She grabbed her new iPhone and wallet from the dresser, giving herself one last glance in the mirror. Satisfied, she took a deep breath and strutted down the stairs.

As she stepped into the living room, all conversation halted. Damian, Jon, and Trinity stared at her, their jaws slightly dropping as she descended the stairs in that little black lace dress. Jey stood there, grinning like a fool, unable to hide his pride.

Damian broke the silence with a laugh, shaking his head. “Where’s the stereo so I can play Kiss Me by Sixpence None the Richer? It’s giving She’s All That.”

Rhea stopped at the bottom of the stairs, glancing down at her outfit, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious under all the attention. "Too much?" she asked, her brows furrowed as she tugged slightly at the hem of the dress.

Immediately, they all shook their heads, a chorus of "No!" erupting from the group.

"Rhea," Trinity said, stepping forward with a smile, "you can personally have that dress because no one else could pull it off like you. Trust me, it’s perfect."

Rhea’s tense expression melted into a smile. "Thanks, Trin," she said, feeling more confident again.

Jey extended his arm out toward her, a charming grin still plastered on his face. “My beautiful girlfriend…” he said, emphasizing the words as if he wanted the whole world to know.

Rhea smiled, taking his arm and glancing at him with affection. "You're too sweet," she murmured, giving his arm a playful squeeze. They looked every bit the perfect couple, ready for a night out, and as they headed toward the door, the excitement in the air grew.

"Alright, let's get going before Trinity freaks out," Damian joked, ushering everyone out.

—

As the white Escalade eased to a stop in front of Fogo De Chão, the staccato burst of camera flashes greeted them before they could even open the doors. Jey's sharp eyes caught the swarm of media waiting just beyond the valet stand, their cameras poised like vultures. He sighed, glancing over at Damian, who was seated next to Rhea.

“Damian, take Rhea and go in first,” Jey instructed quietly, his voice low and calm despite the brewing storm of reporters. “Stay behind Jon and Trinity. We’ll keep the focus on them.”

Damian nodded without hesitation. He stepped out of the car, opening the door for Rhea, who quickly slid on her sunglasses, her face partially hidden beneath the brim of her cap. She gave Jey a brief, grateful look before stepping onto the pavement, her arm lightly brushing against Damian’s as they made their way toward the restaurant entrance. Behind them, Jon and Trinity exited the car, their frustration evident in their body language.

Trinity shot a glare toward the photographers, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I swear, they can’t leave us alone for one night,” she muttered under her breath as she adjusted her sunglasses and smoothed her jacket.

“Don’t let it get to you,” Jon said, his hand brushing hers as they walked. “Let’s just get inside.”

“The reservation’s for Fatu,” Trinity snapped, turning to the valet as she handed him the keys. Her tone was short, and her patience was clearly wearing thin.

The valet smiled politely, quickly scanning his list before offering instructions on how to retrieve the car. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll have the car ready for you when you’re done.”

Trinity barely acknowledged him as she ushered the group toward the entrance, eager to escape the blinding flashes of light and murmured questions from the reporters. As they passed through the glass doors, the cool, quiet interior of Fogo De Chão was a walk in the park compared to the chaos outside. The familiar scent of roasting meats greeted them, the atmosphere inside serene and calm compared to the frenzy they had just left behind.

The restaurant’s manager, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and a kind smile, immediately approached them, his eyes filled with concern. “Mr. and Mrs. Fatu I’m so sorry about the media. We didn’t expect this tonight.”

“It’s fine,” Jon said, though his tone suggested it wasn’t fine at all. “Just make sure we don’t have to deal with them while we’re in here.”

“Of course,” the manager assured him, nodding quickly. “I’ve already arranged for a private room in the back. I’ll have the waitress take you there right away.”

A server appeared, her smile welcoming as she gestured for them to follow her. The group made their way through the main dining area, the lively chatter of diners and the sound of clinking glasses surrounding them, though it all felt distant, like a world apart. Rhea kept her head low as they walked, her body language still tense from the encounter with the press. Damian, always protective, remained close to her side, his presence offering silent support.

They were led into a dimly lit private room at the back of the restaurant, a secluded space with large windows that overlooked a quiet garden, the soft glow of candlelight giving the room an intimate feel. It was exactly what they needed—privacy, away from prying eyes.

As everyone took their seats around the large, round table, a heavy silence settled over them. Rhea removed her sunglasses, placing them down on the table beside her phone. She glanced at Jey, who sat across from her, their eyes meeting briefly. The last few months had been an emotional rollercoaster, and though the noise outside had momentarily quieted, the weight of everything they’d been through was still there, lingering between them like unspoken words.

Trinity sighed as she settled into her chair, her fingers tapping restlessly against the edge of the table. “Can’t even go out for dinner without them showing up,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “I’m so tired of it.”

Jon placed a comforting hand on her arm, leaning in slightly. “Let’s just focus on tonight. We’re here, we’re safe, and we’ve got the best food in town coming our way.”

“Yeah,” Damian chimed in, flashing a small smile at Rhea, who sat next to him. “Let’s make the most of it. We’ve earned a little peace after everything.”

Rhea nodded slowly, but her mind was still far away, her thoughts drifting back to the whirlwind of events—Jey, the affair, the pregnancy, and the heartbreaking loss that still ached deep in her chest. She glanced down at her hands, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the edge of the napkin in front of her. Damian, ever the observant friend, reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. His silent reassurance grounded her, pulling her back into the present.

The server returned with menus, placing them down on the table as she took their drink orders. As the room began to settle, the tension slowly ebbed away, the dim lighting and quiet atmosphere offering them a momentary reprieve from the chaos outside.

“Let’s make a toast,” Jon said suddenly, lifting his glass of water as he waited for the others to join him. “To getting through this mess. To family, to friends… and to better days ahead.”

Everyone raised their glasses in silent agreement. Rhea managed a small smile, glancing around the table at the people who had become her anchor in the storm. For now, in this quiet room with the people who mattered most, she could try to let go of the weight pressing down on her, if only for a little while.

Rhea excused herself from the table, her stomach churning for more reasons than just the food. She could feel the weight of the pill bottle in her purse, calling to her. As everyone was almost done eating, she seized the moment, muttering something about needing to freshen up. Slipping away from the table, she glanced back to see if anyone noticed, but they were still engaged in conversation.

Jey, on the other hand, had been watching her more closely than she realized. He quickly finished his lamb chops, excusing himself in a hurry. As he stood up, Jon couldn’t resist the opportunity.

“You need a condom, Uce?” Jon teased, a smirk spreading across his face. The comment hit like a thunderclap.

Damian and Trinity erupted into laughter, their voices cutting through the low hum of the restaurant. Jey didn’t even bother to respond verbally, flipping them off instead as he made his way toward the bathroom. His heart raced, not entirely sure why, but something felt off with Rhea tonight.

He saw her slip into the family bathroom, the door barely shutting behind her. He hesitated only for a moment before following her. Quietly, he turned the handle and stepped inside, careful not to startle her. But she already seemed on edge, her hand darting out of her purse the second he entered.

Rhea froze, her breath catching in her throat, her eyes wide as she looked at him. She stood by the sink, inches away from pulling out the pill bottle she thought she so desperately needed.

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, her voice shaky, the question more of a defense mechanism than anything else. Fear flickered in her eyes—she wasn't ready for this conversation.

Jey stepped closer, his eyes locking with hers. He could tell something was wrong. Something deeper than just sneaking away for a break. Jey leaned against the sink, his eyes soft but full of concern. He broke the silence gently. “Babe… I hear them.”

Rhea froze, her breath catching in her throat. She didn’t dare look up as she felt the weight of his words settle between them. “What do you mean?” she asked, feigning innocence, her fingers brushing against the edge of her purse again.

Jey’s expression didn’t change as he referenced the pills. “The bottle. I hear it every time you move.” His voice was calm, but there was a sharp edge of worry underneath. “Are you in that much pain?”

Rhea forced herself to meet his gaze, and without thinking, she lied. “It’s… It’s just the pain, Jey. The cramps. They’ve been killing me. I needed something.”

Jey’s face hardened just a little, and his tone dropped. “Nah, Demi… I saw the bottle. The ‘as needed’ pills? They’re gone.” He shook his head slightly, disappointment creeping in. “You haven’t even touched the antibiotics for the infection. The Oxycodone… that’s the only thing you’ve been taking.”

Rhea winced. He never called her by her real name unless things were serious—really serious. The guilt began to gnaw at her, but she forced herself to hold his gaze.

“Joshua, it’s the cramps… they hurt me…” She lied again, the words bitter as they left her lips. She could feel the gap between them widening with each untruth.

Jey didn’t push further, but the weight of his disappointment was clear. He sighed, stepping closer to her, his fingers tracing her cheek before he leaned in and kissed her softly. It wasn’t like his usual kisses—this one was filled with a deep sadness and vulnerability. When he pulled back, he looked into her eyes, and for the first time, his walls came down.

“Demi, I love you,” he began, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you more than anything. I’d do anything for you, you know that. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you from Matt, but moving forward, I want us to start fresh.” His hand found hers, squeezing it gently. “I already started the process to divorce Takecia.”

Rhea blinked, shocked by the admission. She hadn’t expected him to take that step so soon, and hearing him say it made her heart race.

“I’ll help you divorce Matt too,” Jey continued. “We can be free of all this. I wouldn’t be here, buying you a new phone or planning a life together, if I didn’t mean it. Fuck… Dem I wouldn’t be here if I thought you was a ho’. I’m all in, Demi. I love you. I want a future with you.”

Rhea’s eyes filled with tears, the sincerity in his voice cutting through every defense she had built up. He was right—he wouldn’t be doing any of this if he wasn’t serious. He was all in.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Rhea made a strong choice. She reached into her purse, pulled out the pill bottle, and handed it to Jey without saying a word. Her hand trembled as she let go, but the moment felt powerful—like reclaiming a piece of herself she was about lose.

Jey looked at the bottle, his expression softening. Without hesitation, he walked over to the trash can and dumped the pills, letting them fall away with a quiet clatter. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.

When he turned back to her, his eyes were filled with a mix of love and relief. He walked back over, cupping her face in his hands. “I’m all in if you are, Demi.”

Rhea nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks as she whispered, “I’m in, Joshua. I’m all in.”

They stood there in the quiet of the bathroom, wrapped in each other’s arms, as the weight of their situation slowly lifted. For the first time, love wasn’t just something they said to each other—it was the choice they made. Together.

—

[ohmnnnezz]

warmth and comfort

[aprilblossomgirl]

Q said there is a sad puppy here, so that’s why we came.

We Are (2024) | Ep.13