#it's not overwhelming both for me and them

[mywritersmind]

MARKS ON YOUR BODY - LN4||OP81

summary : In which it starts with strip poker and ends with questions about a specific hidden tattoo and some secret piercings. Or, Lando and Oscar are both hot for you and let you know it.

listen up : zakbrowndaughter!reader 18+ not fully smut but pretty suggestive (at least for me who doesn’t write smut lol) i’m blushing. STRIP POKER PHOTO INSPIRED!! tramp stamp and tits pierced??🙂‍↕️

words : 1425

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“Alright Lan, You wanna stop?” Oscar eyes Lando who’s in pants only. The only way Lando would lose strip poker is if he distracted me too much with his body.

He laughs, “Fuck no!”

“Fuck yes.” I throw down my cards and yawn, “I’m bored of winning.” Oscar had so many pieces of outerwear that he’s lost multiple times but still is wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Strip poker is my game apparently, maybe the possibility of the guys being naked fueled my fire.

“I swear you’re cheating.” Lando shakes his head.

Oscar’s laughing as I scoff, “I do not cheat! Just accept defeat, Norris.”

He leans against the table, “I’m not losing to you, Brown.”

“I think it’s too late for that, Lando.” Oscar fiddles with a card in his hand as I lean my head back. Apparently, my hair moves with me and Oscar’s brow shoots up, “You have a tattoo?”

I blink, “Uh yeah.”

“What!?” Lando practically screams, “Let’s see.”

I move back my hair to reveal the tattoo that’s behind my ear, it’s a tiny 8 for the number I grew up racing with. “That’s hot.” Lando nods as Oscar hits his arm, “I want to get a tattoo.”

“No you do not!” Oscar argues as Lando sends him a dirty look.

He turns back to me, his arms crossed against the table so his biceps pull my attention, “Did it hurt?”

I shrug, “Yeah, but some of my others hurt more.”

Lando’s jaw drops, “You have more? How did we not know this?”

I laugh again, “I hide them from my dad.”

“Really?” Oscar asks, seemingly surprised at my sneaky nature.

The corner of my mouth pulls upwards, “You wanna see the rest?”

His eyes are deep as he nods and taps the card against the table. “I’m assuming they’re easy to hide.”

I sigh and hook my finger to the bottom of my shirt, pulling it upwards. He's right, of course. All of my tattoos aren’t easily seen by my father.

I pull my shirt until I reach my sternum. Lando’s smile dulls as his eyes zero in on my skin, clearly not wanting to miss anything. I have a star design that goes in a line with little details around it.

Oscar leans his head back against the headrest, biting his lip and checking me out. I don’t think he’s ever looked hotter.

Lando’s hair is a mess but in the sort of attractive way that makes you want to pull it. The two of them are my greatest desire with bright orange caution tape put up by my father.

Zak Brown hates when I'm with the two of them, no matter which, he doesn’t trust me. But coming back from the FIA awards, they offered me a ride since we were all going back to england, so it was only polite to accept.

I drop my shirt and I swear I see Lando’s mouth fall into a frown. “Damn… didn’t know you went against daddy’s orders.”

I smirk, “He hates tattoos…Thinks they’re trashy. Which is ironic because...” I stop myself before I can go on, trailing off and grabbing my water to play it off.

“Because what?” Oscar asks.

“Um…” I don’t really know what to say and I feel quite overwhelmed with these two men staring at me.

“You have one more. Don’t you?” Oscar’s trying to hide his smirk but is shit at it. Lando looks to his teammate, then me.

“Now we have to see.” The curly haired man stretches his arm on the table, his muscles rippling and making me bite my lip.

“Okay.” I situate myself so I'm sitting on my feet. I pause, looking at both of them for a second. The whole thing is so oddly erotic and ridiculously hot.

I turn around in my seat, pulling down the back of my sweats ever so slightly so my tramp stamp is in view. I look over my shoulder to see their reactions because neither of them say a thing.

Oscar is staring, face blank and directed at my lower back. Lando’s mouth is open just the slightest bit, his arm draped over the back of Oscar’s seat. It’s not huge, just thin lines that make up a butterfly and some swirls to compliment it.

“Fuck.” Lando whispers, Oscar looks at him but doesn’t tell him to stop, just mumbles along with his friend. “Yeah.”

“You like it?” I know they do. I’m not blind.

The two are staring at me like i’m fucking edible and the way they look right now, I might be. “I’d be an idiot not to.” Oscar says as I turn back around, my shirt still pulled up and my hair to one side.

“I think this is the first time Lando’s been speechless.” I joke as his eyes meet mine again and his cheeks go pink. “Am I making you nervous, Norris?”

I expect him to roll his eyes or scoff, but he just breathes out and says, “You’re really hot, Y/n.”

“Can’t argue with him there.” Oscar wipes a hand over his mouth before tapping the table, “I wanna see it closer.”

I realize that he means he wants me to sit on the table. “Not even a please?” I tease but I'm already turning and setting myself down on it.

I’m about to adjust my pants but Lando’s hand does it for me. His skin is cold and holds my hip as his fingers dip below my waistband.

“Why a butterfly?” Oscar asks, leaning against the table to get a better look. I lean back and rest against my arms as they look.

“Thought it was cute.”

Oscar laughs a bit, “How often do you mark your body because it’s cute?”

Lando slides out of his seat, moving into mine so I'm facing him. He doesn’t even ask, just slides a hand onto my hip and another on my shirt, pulling it up to see my sternum.

Oscar switches with Lando so he’s now holding the back of my sweats. I let my eyes train down Lando’s chest… his abs… his arms. He’s fit as fuck and the way he was acting during strip poker, he knows it.

I go back to Oscar's question, realizing I got distracted by Lando in front of me. “Very often actually, piercings too.”

This prompts Lando to push my hair behind my ear, admiring my jewelry, “How many do you have?” He sounds almost out of breath.

“Twelve.” His fingers drift over my earrings, counting.

“You only have five on each, though.” As soon as Lando says it, I hear Oscar shift in his seat.

I don’t even wait for Lando to catch on, I just grab his wrist and have my shirt go up with his hand. Lando lets out a noise, close to a whimper.

He stares at my bare chest, the only thing on me is my jewelry decorating each nipple.

I hear Oscar stand, his hand gripping my hip tighten as he gets closer. He’s looking over my shoulder, I lean back a bit so he has a better view of my tits.

Lando’s hand is resting on my neck, pushing my shirt against my skin, I can feel his pulse beat faster under my fingertips.

Lando’s gaze shifts to Oscar as the brown eyed man stares back at him. I feel like they’re having some telepathic conversation that I can’t understand, until Oscar looks back at me.

His eyes are darker, the air filled with tension. As my eyes flick to Lando, I see his chest rise and fall. I get it now.

My hand slips to Oscar’s face, his jaw and cheek warm against my touch. I hesitate purely to see how his breath hitches, then I kiss him.

Lando swears as Oscar’s tongue dips into my mouth, he freezes between my legs. I break the kiss with Lando, hooking my leg around his waist to pull him in closer.

“Are you still nervous?” I whisper as Oscar moves his lips to my neck. Lando looks like he’s dreaming, his head turning side to side slowly as I smirk.

He kisses me, softer than Oscar at first but he becomes sloppier when I start being affected by Oscar attached to my neck.

The aussie mumbles against my skin, “This your end goal all along? Strip poker… tattoo tour… fuck?”

I lean my head back and laugh, “No. I guess I'm just lucky.”

[hismercytomyjustice]

Ngl I really enjoyed Via’s arc in Sinsmas. She is just SO MUCH like her father that it both delights and hurts me lol.

Their relationship is an interesting take on struggling to try to break the cycle of abuse/neglect.

Stolas grew up with his father not even knowing his name or showing him a shred of affection. He was a means to an end, a tool. The only way he’s ever received any kind of acknowledgement from his father is by doing his duty. Mastering his powers, entering into an arranged marriage, and producing an heir.

You can just so clearly see how he is trying SO HARD to give Via a different life. He wants them to be a family. For her to never doubt her parents love her. To be the father he never had.

To the point he shoves his own wants and needs so far down that he is barely holding on.

Via going from accusing him of not loving her to realizing that he loves her so much that he forced himself to play the role of a good father and husband. To the point he destroyed himself for her…

And that realization just devastates her.

Stolas getting involved with Blitz was the culmination of decades of forcing himself to be the person everyone else expected him to be. He feels he can’t be loved, but he can be useful. And maybe if he’s useful enough, people will care about him.

The reason his connection with Blitz is so strong is because both of them feel that way. The difference is that Blitz was able to create his own found family (tho it took him ages to realize it lol) while Stolas has always been alone. They’re two sides of the same coin. And while Blitz has spent the past few years healing, Stolas has been descending further into darkness because he doesn’t have that same support.

Via has absorbed so many of his insecurities. Especially the fear of not being loved or wanted despite Stolas trying SO HARD to be the perfect father to her. But he’s not. He can never be because he forgot the old adage of “put your oxygen mask on first before helping anyone else.”

I think that definitely can come across as him being neglectful of her. But to me it speaks to his desperation to be such a good father to her that he tries to hold himself to IMPOSSIBLE standards.

He doesn’t fail Via because he doesn’t care. He fails her because he keeps setting up these unrealistic expectations for their relationship. He massively overextends himself and puts his own wants and desires on the back burner so often that his life is imploding around him out of his control.

He doesn’t miss the stars with her because he doesn’t care. He misses them because he’s struggling to put his life back together after finally taking some initiative for himself. He’s trying to deal with the fallout of wanting a divorce from Stella, but he’s waited so long and he’s so overwhelmed by it all that the date slips his mind. And the instant he realizes what’s happened, he drops everything and goes looking for her.

Via keeps watching him make these promises he struggles with or fails to keep and doesn’t realize until she finds all of the happy pills how much he’s overextended himself for her sake. And because she’s her father’s daughter, she immediately thinks she’s at fault. She thinks he would be happier if he hadn’t forced himself to play house all these years for her sake.

She’s not wrong. If he’d separated from Stella years before, they’d probably all be better off. But he didn’t because of his sense of duty. Stolas’s problem is that he never advocates for himself until he reaches his literal breaking point. By then, the damage is more of a tsunami than a ripple because now his meticulously crafted house of cards is falling down around him faster than he can pick up the pieces.

Via is right that he would have been happier, but not for the reasons she thinks. He did it because he loved her, not out of obligation for her. And also because he is deeply broken and flawed.

Via’s dealing with a lot of complicated emotions too. Her father was willing to sacrifice himself for his affair partner, which she initially believes means he’s picking Blitz over her. But really it’s just Stolas trying to save the only other person in his life who understands him and who maybe cares about him.

How could he live with himself if he let Blitz die?

And it’s not like Stolas has time to sit down and think of a rational plan. He rushes to the trial because Blitz is literally about to be decapitated. And then he saves him the only way he knows how. I think part of him was also convinced that, as much as he loves Via, she might actually be better off without him because he is a wreck. He’s convinced he’s ruined his life and the lives of everyone around him.

I think this is why he doesn’t fight Stella much for custody of Via. Not because he doesn’t care, but because he genuinely thinks Stella is a more stable parent than he is and that Via will be better off with her as a result. The man also lacks a backbone too tho because his self worth is -9000.

But then Stolas doesn’t get executed. And the consequences of his actions hit him like a ton of bricks once the adrenaline and panic wears off. He saved Blitz, but at what cost? And, based on his statement in Sinsmas, it sounds like he would’ve done it all over again if given the chance. Because he’s the one who let Blitz use his grimoire even though he knew it was wrong. Because Blitz was in danger of dying because of him. And because he has a very strong sense of morality and justice too.

Dying in Blitzo’s place was a spur of the moment decision and once the dust cleared, Stolas realized how everything he’s tried to do to keep his shit together has fallen apart at the seams and now everyone knows it.

All Via can see when she looks at him now is that he’s hit rock bottom because of her. Again, not true. But Stolas has tried so hard to give her this idyllic family life, thinking that was the best thing he could do for her. Not realizing that she could see the cracks forming. She just didn’t understand why there were cracks until now.

I don’t think Via actually hates him. I think she hates herself. Convinced she’s the reason he’s hit rock bottom. Why couldn’t she see how much he was suffering? Why would he suffer so much for her? So she’s taking herself out of the equation, just like he tried to with Blitz. If she’s not in his life anymore, maybe he’ll stop killing himself to try to make her happy. Maybe he’ll stop being so miserable.

I think a big part of their arc together has been her going from thinking of Stolas as this perfect and larger than life figure to seeing him start to crumble and now getting a peek behind the curtain and realizing how much of that wasn’t real. And it scares and upsets her that her dad isn’t the perfect person he’s tried to be for her. He’s broken and hurting and she doesn’t know what to do to help because he’s spent her whole life focusing on her.

Not to say that he’s done that well. He genuinely hasn’t. He’s overcorrected so hard that he’s fucked her up in a completely different way because he’s overextended himself. He pushed himself until the illusion of a perfect happy family cracked along with him. He’s also made it difficult for her to know how to help him because he’s sheltered her so much.

I think this sometimes makes Stolas come across as selfish. He seemingly “ruined” his marriage and his relationship with his daughter for Blitz. But really it was just the pendulum swinging wildly in the opposite direction. He was so starved for happiness and connection that now he’s trying to live two separate lives and it’s just not possible and he’s falling apart even faster.

Stolas was so desperate for affection and to be of use that he lets Blitz have his grimoire, under the impression Blitz is attracted to him because Blitz literally tried to seduce him to get it. He also does all of the dirty talk because he thinks Blitz likes it.

I think he initially sets the terms for the grimoire usage because he thinks it’s a price Blitz is more than willing to pay because he showed up trying to seduce him. I think he l also just really wants an excuse to see/spend time with Blitz too. It doesn’t even cross his mind that Blitz might want anything other than sex from him. He’s once again playing a role based on what he thinks is expected of him.

It’s not until Stolas discovers he’s starting to develop feelings for Blitz that he realizes their arrangement is wrong. And the moment he realizes it, he immediately tries to make amends. He hopes Blitz will admit he has feelings for him too, but is willing to step away if not. But he also cares about him so much, he makes sure to give him the Asmodean Crystal so he can freely make the choice.

Meanwhile he has no idea Blitz will just view this as another person trying to abandon him or look down on him. Because Blitz struggles with self worth too and believes the only way people will care about him is if he can be useful. Blitz has a deep seated fear of abandonment while Stolas fears no one could ever love him just for himself. He offers Blitz the crystal to let him know his feelings are genuine and to gauge Blitz’s too.

All of this is to say that I think Via and Stolas will reconcile, hopefully sooner rather than later. I think Via needs some time to process who her father actually is vs who she thought he was. And both of them need to be able to forgive themselves/grant themselves some grace so they can finally meet each other in the middle like Stolas has finally managed with Blitz. Stolas needs to accept Via is grown up now and he can’t shield her from the negatives of the world forever. Meanwhile Via needs to understand everything doesn’t have to be so black and white.

[marsmaximoff]

🏛️ emperor caracalla ; headcanons ⋆₊𐕣˚𖤐 ݁｡☽

content warning: fem!reader. mentions of blood, killing and sickness, cheating, possessiveness, toxicity. idk if there’s anything else.

word count: 0.7k

author’s note: first time writing headcanons, so constructive criticism is welcomed. and english is my third language so please bear with me. i apologize for any mistake 🙏🏻 also, i’m unlocking a new obsession, so i needed to write for caracalla asap. i’m gonna write for other fred characters too because that man has me down bad. that’s it! enjoyyy! <3

emperor caracalla is a menace with an insane duality and you know that better than anyone

we have 1) mad ruler with an insatiable thirst for blood

you ALWAYS go to the games

he demands wants you there with him

(not like you have much choice being married to him)

but still, he loves to know you’re there. mostly because he actually enjoys sharing his passion and spending time with you. buuut, also because he REALLY likes to show you off. (you love seeing him all giggly clapping and yelling tho)

and let me tell you, he takes every opportunity to do so. to remind everyone that you’re his. and to brag in front of his pretty much unmarried brother.

i’m talking hand rubbing your thigh when sitting by his side (he does it absentmindedly, it’s genuinely cute), arm around your waist during feasts, sitting on his lap when watching combats, theatre or any sort of entertainment and a ton of PDA.

both of them are possessive, but he is more subtle, not as straightforward

regarding Geta, you two have an… odd relationship. he’s thankful there’s someone else to deal with his brother’s madness. but he’s suspicious of your intentions. tho jealous.

some would even say not only of the marriage itself…

caracalla knows, and absolutely feeds on it. he finally has something that belongs to him and only him

god forbid someone doesn’t get it

Dondus has grown to adore you. you’re like his other parent -he’s adopted you as such.

squeaks at you and happily climbs your arm to rest on your shoulder

loves using your braids as little ladders

and snuggling against your neck too

he’s just so cute can u tell i love him :3

anyways

and 2) sappy child

he follows you around like a puppy

you hate it when he gets overwhelmed, he tends to hide and isolate himself

you end up acting like his mother

gets insecure of his real face and keeps it from you

needs a lot of reassurance

the guards always look for you when he has an outburst

your touch and presence are the only things that ground him

LOVES LOVES LOVES cuddling

clings to you like he needs you to breathe

good luck waking up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom 💀

play with his hair and he’s GONE

big on pet names

to you is always “my love” “my dear” “my darling” “my wife” “my empress”

emphasis on the “my”

everything’s fine with him but “sweet boy” makes him melt

and obviously “my emperor” cause it makes him feel powerful

and compliments too

spoils and pampers the shit out of you

jewels, clothes, animals, entertainers, you name it

absolutely whipped

loves kissing

now, it can’t all be a fairytale 😞

sometimes you feel like he loves Dondus more than you

and it seems that some men being forced to kill each other brings him more happiness than you ever could

he can switch from sad to angry in a matter of seconds and sometimes his sudden change of tone and expressions startles you

🚩 🚩🚩

being married to a sick man is hard

many palace servants and guards feel bad for you

paranoid

thinks you don’t love him anymore and are going to leave him quite often

obsessive

if you say something that feels ‘off’ to him get ready for an intense interrogation

possessive and extremely jealous

cause why the fuck where you laughing with some random man?

he’d threaten to kill him and would probably get rough with you

hates other people touching you

gets violent

has hurt you before during one of his fits

regrets it afterwards but has a hard time apologizing

would probably be unfaithful. i know, i hate it too 🥲

over all i think he wouldn’t be that bad of a husband, like it could be way worse

and i say he could genuinely love you, it just wouldn’t be the healthiest of loves

but you can try to fix him girl ✨✨

[hitomisuzuya]

Suzu suzu suzu suzuuuuuu imagine double penetration with kabuscara tho😳 Can you imagine kabu being a moaning mess while scara guide him how to properly do a double penetration while reader just obediently take them both? And scara is shockingly soft with reader and kabu!! OH MY GOD MY THOUGHTS WENT WILD😳 If you may, can you write it? Pretty please?

scaramouche x fem!reader. kunikuzushi (kabukimono) x fem!reader. smut. threesome. double vaginal penetration. double creampie. soft scara.

i hope this turned out okay😳 it's been awhile since i have written double penetration.

kunikuzushi is a moaning mess behind you, whimpering as the feeling of your pussy stretching to accommodate his cock next to scaramouche's. "she--she's so tight," he stumbled over his words, his hands scrambling to find purchase on your shoulders to anchor himself.

"take it easy, kuni," scaramouche glanced at his brother in encouragement, "look at how obedient she is being," his fingers danced over your throbbing clit, increasing the need to bounce on his cock. "taking us both so well."

both brothers had been preparing you for quite sometime to take both of their cocks inside of you. scaramouche sat you on his cock first, pinching and rubbing your clit while you rode him. he'd instructed kunikuzushi to suck on your nipples, telling him that the wetter and more aroused you are, the easier it would be.

scaramouche moaned as your pussy clenched around his cock, slowly thrusting up into you. "she's clenching just from hearing me mention having both our cocks stuffing her full," his fingers pinching your clit tore a cry of pleasure from your throat.

kunikuzushi's fingers dug possessively into your shoulders, his cock pulsing as he pushed deeper inside of you. "easy now," scaramouche said, increasing his rubs on your clit, "too fast at first and you'll hurt her," you saw stars feeling kunikuzushi bottom out next to scaramouche's cock.

"i..i'm fine," you reassured, "feels good," was about all you could manage. your pussy had never felt so full, both cocks snuggly rubbing against every sensitive inch of your walls.

"thrust after i do," scaramouche instructed, tending to your clit for a few moments more before taking your hand and putting it on your clit. he helped kunikuzushi set a good, steady rhythm. his soft temperament was utterly surprising to you. "that's a good girl, sucking us both in like this."

you moan louder hearing scaramouche's praise, both cocks squelching in and out of you, kissing into your sweet spot a few moments after the other. because of the position you are in, there was little room for you to do anything but take it while you shamelessly moaned. your fingers skated over your throbbing clit, pleasure burning through you as you submissively relaxed for them.

the pleasure was fast overwhelming you. your fingernails clawed at scaramouche's chest the tighter your orgasm built up. your whole body trembled in bliss, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth onto scaramouche's chest.

"fuck, i think she is going to cum," kunikuzushi could feel it, your pussy was so tight. he couldn't stop the whimpers spilling unbidden from his throat as he increased his pace.

scaramouche matched kunikuzushi's pace, his own cock throbbing almost uncontrollably against kunikuzushi's. he wasn't surprised you are already on the verge of cumming, thinking your poor little body would be overwhelmed before too long. "cum, pretty. cum on both our cocks," he hissed in momentary dominance, moving your hand away from your clit to help you along.

that was all it took to make you come undone, their cocks kissing into your sweet spot tore your orgasm out of you, squirting while you shook from the intensity of your orgasm. you are barely able to keep yourself from collapsing onto scaramouche's chest while their cock continued to fuck into you.

kunikuzushi's cock roped cum inside of you first, sloppily thrusting inside you as he rode out his high. you mewl in bliss, whimpering in slight overstimulation as his cum oozed out around his cock. scaramouche's cum soon followed, adding to the intense experience of taking them both at once.

[sturnsdoll]

NAUGHTY OR NICE ❄ -m.s, c.s (part 2)

part one here summary: your boyfriend matt deals with you after finding his brother fingering you in the restaurant bathroom.

warnings: unprotected sex, cheating, slight choking, shower sex, use of baby and sweetheart. "pink" + reader speaking, "blue" = matt speaking.

the car ride home was filled with you trying to explain to your boyfriend how you'd ended up with his brother fingering you in the bathroom. although matt had set it all up, he obviously still didn't enjoy the thought of it.

he'd said nothing really for most of the drive back to your house, just telling you he didn't really wanna hear it. it felt like hours but after what was probably the most confusing and frustrating drive of your life, the two of you were finally at your house.

still in the midst of his mix of emotions, matt opened the passenger side door for you to get out. you couldn't really gauge his emotions towards you at all right now, it had you fumbling your keys like an idiot when trying to unlock the front door.

with an irritated sigh, matt ended up taking them from you and doing it himself. instantly after his shoes were taken off and stomped of the snow on the bottoms of them, he headed up to your room without another word.

you hurried to get your outside attire off and get upstairs. he had to talk at some point right? did you ruin the relatiosnship? why'd he set you up like that?

the minute you entered your room you opened your mouth to apologize to matt but he instantly spoke over you "wanna take a shower with me sweetheart?" his voice was off puttingly soft, followed by a tilt of his head as he looked you over.

you felt incaptivated by the christmas lights in the corner of your room shining off his eyes as he gave you a sweet puppy-like look. you took longer than usual to respond, feeling dumbfounded. of course you were just happy he still wanted to do something so sweet and intimate with you, he must not be that mad right?

with a hesitant nod you headed off to the bathroom with your boyfriend. shutting the door, you both stripped yourselves of your clothes and matt began running the water. you were the first one to get inside the shower, the glass of the door already fogged up.

he slipped inside the shower now too, your body's lightly grazing at the closeness of the enclosed space. the water streaming down your hair and back was warm but nothing compared to the warmth you felt when matt's hand came to your side, gently guiding you to turn around, facing away from him.

matt's arms slip around your waist slowly from behind, his mouth finding your neck, softly kissing beneath your ear. instantly relaxation and content filled you, feeling relieved at the sweet gestures, again assuming this means he can't be too angry. however it was short lived as soon as he opened his mouth. "were his hands better than mine?" matt's voice is soft and low in your ear. one of his hands slide up over your stomach slowly as he speaks.

your stomach drops a little as you realize he clearly hadn't brought you in here to just wash off. the water, his touch and the reminder of chris being knuckles deep in you earlier were all overwhelming. you lick your lips, shaking your head no in response to his question.

"no? why then?" his question confuses you. your eyebrows knit together as you respond "why what?". one of his hands slip down towards your pussy, dancing just above it tauntingly. his other hand continues up your stomach, skipping over your chest. "why'd you let him touch you?" he specifies.

you let out a frustrated sigh. how can you possibly answer that in any other way then the fact that you were beyond sexually in need earlier, matt had been torturing you all night and his brother "just happened" to come in when she was needier than she's ever been.

at your moment of hesitation, matt's slender fingers wrap around your throat, giving a light squeeze to urge an answer. contrary to the rough action, his head dips down and his lips press light kisses to your shoulder. you're about to respond anxious and unsure before you remember, he's the one who set it up. he let chris come in and touch you, so is it really all your fault? "i dunno, why'd you let him touch me?" there's a bit of irratation in your tone.

despite his attempt to stay angry, matt knows your right. you feel his lips spread into a small smile against your shoulder right before his teeth capture the skin there, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. he hears you gasp, making him smirk a little as he takes his mouth off of you and brings it to your ear, placing another kiss beneath it before responding "santas not coming for a cheater" he teases playfully.

"no? well are you cumming for a cheater?..." following your snarky response, your hand slips behind you to find matt's already semi-hard dick. but you can barely graze it before his hand comes off your throat, grabbing your wrist and pinning it behind your back with a bit of force.

you wanna complain but before you can fully form what to say in your head, his middle finger slides through your folds, collecting wetness from both from the water streaming down your bodies and your own arousal. your hips are already squirming for more when his finger slides through your folds again, just barely grazing over your clit each time.

"matt.." your voice is pleading and matt adores it, but he gives no response beside beginning to suck on the skin beneath your ear. you gasp as the slight pain, his teeth sure to leave a mark behind. his finger is still just teasing along your folds, only giving enough pleasure to drive you insane.

with another annoyed sigh you try again "matt-" you're interupted by his hand releasing your wrist, only to slip around your waist again and tug you back against him. your back flush with his chest. "be nice and stop whining. i shouldn't even be touching you after you let my brother do it for me." he reminds you, but still your boyfriend wants to see you feel good. so before you can respond, his middle finger finds your clit, starting with slow and soft circles that make you bring your hand up to grab the arm that's around your waist, feeling like after the night you've had, you could probably crumble from just his voice alone, let alone his touch.

"gotta give y' somethin' he can't now" matt murmurs as he kisses at your cheek, dissapointingly sliding his hand down to your thigh, leaving your clit aching for more his attention back. you aren't dissapointed for long when matt urges your legs apart. luckily his other arm around your waist prevents you from slipping on the water beneath your feet.

you can feel his erection nudging at your thigh now. matt takes his hand off your thigh now and takes his length into his hands, his long fingers that you so desperately wish were in you begin to stroke himself gently. "y' gonna ask me nicely?" matt teases as he tauntingly slides his tip through your folds. just the slight nudge of him along your wet hole and clit have you letting out a shaky breath, trying to collect yourself, wishing you could. there isn't a second thought in your head as your hips gently push at the feeling, wishing you could just get him inside of you. though you'd be lying if you said his teasing wasn't frustratingly hot. finally speaking up "please?" your tone is ingenuine, like you just inpatiently want him to get it on with.

matt lets out an amused scoff at your half assed attempt to move things along. "chris make y' forget how to behave?" he asks as he shakes his head. his hand comes beneath your chin, using one finger to tilt your head back onto his shoulder so that you're looking up at him. just when you think he wants you to beg for him again, lips parting to speak, two of his fingers come to your lips, pressing at your mouth for entry "suck." he tells you firmly.

he has this look in his eyes as he looks down at you that can't be described in any other way than dissapointed. you instantly wanna change it, to please your boyfriend. obediently your lips wrap around his fingers. your head tilts further back onto his shoulder, your wet hair pressing against his skin as you eye him pleadingly.

as matt watches you he has to fight off a grin at how willing you seem to please him. he shoved his fingers further back on your tongue, your mouth filled with his two digits as he holds eye contact with you. too occupied by his intense gaze, you don't notice his hips moving until very abruptly his length is pushing inside of you, stretching you out. he slides himself slowly in all the way without stopping, but watching your features still as to make sure not to hurt you in any way.

your hand grips harder at the arm he has around your waist as you gasp around his fingers, eyes fluttering back a little at the sudden fullness. your usually sweet boyfriend taunts you "you know you don't deserve this right?" he says, shaking his head as he presses his fingers further back towards your throat.

your eyes brim with tears the closer his digits come to your throat, whining out a small "mhm" around them in response. matt gives you a very brief look of adoration, a small smile that lets you know his treatment is only because he knows both you and him much prefer this side of him. he needs you to be aware that despite his anger, he's mostly just playing with you.

his hips begin slowly rocking forwards, his tip fucking right up into every spot inside you it needs to. you can't believe how deep he reaches. matt's jaw falls open just a little, the softest whine leaving his lips.

both from the sound of his pretty noise as well as him being inches deep, you lowly whine around his fingers back at him, nails digging into his arm tighter now as your face scrunches up in pleasure. "that feel good?" matt asks with an amused smile as his fingers finally slip from your mouth. you're nearly drooling from having him repetitively and so slowly fill you up. "uh- huh.." you're voice is whinier than you'd like it to have been. matt clearly enjoys it, his eyes admirably flicking over your face.

matt gently interlocks his fingers with yours before your suddenly pushed forwards. both his hands slide to your wrists, pinning you to lean against the glass wall of the shower so your hips are pushed back a little better for him to fuck you.

"maybe that's why you let him touch you." matt mumbles, half talking to himself as he starts fucking into you harder now, picking up just a little speed to his pace. "cause you're so desperate? take whatever y' can get huh sweetheart?" matt's voice is painfully sweet compared to his mean words.

you whine and moan, wrists flexing in slight discomfort under his grip as you let out a breathy "no..". although he can't see your expression to gauge your pleasure, he most definetly feels it in how you're squeezing him so fucking tight.

a soft noise slips his throat again, his hips picking up the pace even more. making sure you're still comfortable, matt's thumbs slowly stroke over your wrists whilst continuing to pin them to the glass of the shower. "no? i'm sure that's not the story chris would tell me." matt sounds a little out of breath as he's also pretty lost in his own pleasure now. the way your voice gets all pitchy as you squeeze around him only feeds his need to make you both cum.

"gonna apologize t' me?" his voice barely registers in your head as his tip repeatedly abuses your cervix. "or are you fucked too dumb to respond?" his hands squeeze your wrists warningly, a bite to his tone. you finally realize he's asked you something but have no clue what. your eyes shut as you try to focus on anything besides how deep he's fucking into you "huh?" the shake to your voice makes him grin a little. "i want an apology for letting my- mmph" his voice is strained, the sound of his hips snapping against your ass is filling the room, along with water streaming "-for letting chris put his fucking hands on you" matt clarifies demandingly, not really asking.

"'m sorry.." it's all you can really think to say. his dick has your mind a haze. unsurprisingly, it isn't good enough. matt switches how he holds you, he grabs your wrists and pulls them behind your back in one hand as he tugs you up so your back is flush with his chest again, his mouth at your ear. "are you?" he questions as he lifts one of your legs up a little by your thigh so that he can get a better angle inside of your leaking pussy.

your face tilts to the side so you meet his face, your lips are brushing against one anothers "i- uh god- i am baby" your voice is shaky, interupted with small cries of pleasure. matt watches your gaze as you can barely keep it on him, completly in a daze.

"you can do better c'mon." as he urges you on, his breathing becomes more strained. he begins fucking into you slower but harder again. it's a little uneven in pace, he's close. you find it a struggle to compile words into a coherent sentance for him right now "i'm.. i'm sorry for letting chris touch me. i'm really.. fuck.." as you speak, matt can't help but be in awe of how much your struggling with talking to him. he always feels so proud when he can get you to this point, dumb off of him. "i know pretty girl, i know" his grip on you is tightened as his fore head rests down onto your shoulder.

his hips still for a second as you hear matt curse out your name. his warm liquid is being fucked into you before you even know what's happened. the feeling of him cumming inside you is enough to have your thighs begin to tremble, back arching into him in need to finish as well.

matt opts to let go of your leg and bring his hand around to the front of you to toy with your clit instead. "did chris let you cum earlier sweetheart?" matt questions as his thumb rubs over your bundle of nerves again and again and again. your hips squirm at the sensitivity, unable to respond as you shake your head no in response. "aw my poor girl." he teases you, his words and touch making a strangled moan come from your lips. he's satisfied with your reaction, his hips still gently fucking into you, very slowly softening as he rides his high out.

his lips land on your ear, voice soft, "y' wanna cum?". you instantly whine out an approving whine at the idea. matt pulls you back by your wrists roughly "i need an answer" matt demands harshly and you desperately nod "yes. yes please matt"

"then go ahead" his thumb instantly speeds up and it's all you need for your body to be pushed over the edge, almost..

really, it was your mind suddenly filling with images you knew shouldn't be there. that's what really sent you over the edge.

memories of earlier, chris's pretty fingers touching you how matt is, and fucking into you as he cradled your head against his chest in such a sweet way. the way he'd left you so needy. the stress of matt's anger towards you had blocked him out of your mind until right now, you almost wish that you could've known what it was like to have chris hold you how he wants you as he uses you, touches you.. uses you how matt does.

shit, right. your boyfriend matt.

you swear you see white as something else white begins dripping down your thighs, you barely process your body shaking, thighs clenching, breathing shaky and uneven as you come down from one of the best orgasms you've had in a long time.

you quickly push away your thoughts, you tell yourself that it's your boyfriend's touch that had made you cum so hard.

matt pulls everything completely off of you before turning you around to face him and placing a long kiss to your lips. "i love you" matt says sweetly as he reaches over to grab the soap, ready for the two of you to actually shower now.

"i love you too." and you mean it you do.. but guilt fills you as somehow find yourself feeling unsatisfied. not because matt didn't do incredible. he always does. but instead, you're unsatisfied because you have this itch now, an itch to know what chris is like beyond just quickly having tried to get you off in the bathroom. you wanna know how he'd treat you in comparison to matt, if he's soft or rough, maybe a little of both. he'd already been so good with his words earlier, fuck. the things he'd probably say to her as he fucked his brothers girlfriend..

it's an itch you'd never scratch of course.

...

or at least you'd like to think you wouldn't.

merry christmas eve/happy holidays !

tagsᥫ᭡: @ikyoudreamofme @riasturns @ifIIwtmfc @iloveragdollcats @sturnzsblog @crocsarethebest @billieslimbo @mattscoatedcock @mattssslutbby @sturnioloslutttt4 @certified-sturniolo @chrisisbadaf @heartsforsturniolo567 @mattsrod @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @pettydollie @sturniol0s @6ix9inewiturmom @sonicsmacks @fratbrochrisgf @eyelovedher89 @bernardsbendystraws @riversandwinds @ilovemenwithlonghairr @chrissweatytoes @courta13 @2muchofaslvt @emely9274 @billieslimbo @sturnzsblog @iloveragdollcats

[onlyhereforthestories]

Turkey Farm Traditions (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Day 23! This is a tradition of mine and my dads. I have never not gone to get the turkey with him on Christmas eve, and yes I'm going tomorrow! Anyone got any traditions they love?

The festive season was well underway, and with it came the cold weather. Normally, you thrived in the chill, finding comfort in the crisp air and cozy nights. But this year, the winter cold only made everything seem a little sadder because of the situation you were in.

You had always gone home for Christmas. No matter what was happening in your life, you always made the trip back to England for the holidays, at the very least. But not this year. This year, you would be spending Christmas in Spain with your girlfriend of five years, Alexia.

It was the first year Alexia had expressed her dislike of spending the season apart, and she asked if you would be okay with having Christmas Day at your shared home in Spain. She had even offered to fly your parents and sister, along with her family, out to celebrate together. But you knew that wouldn't be practical.

You didn't want to spend Christmas apart from Alexia either, so you agreed. You also spoke with your mum about visiting them for the New Year instead, since there was a long gap in fixtures for your club team. They were understanding and happy to have you visit then, even suggesting that you could do a little "mini Christmas" together. That idea was more than comforting—it was a lifeline.

With Alexia's help, you managed to get all the gifts for your family sent off in time, so you knew they'd be arriving for the big day. Your joint gifts were all double wrapped for safety by Alexia, as she was always the more organized one when it came to packaging. Once that was done, you felt a little better about not being with them for the holiday.

What also helped ease the feeling was the fact that you would be hosting Alexia's mother and sister for the day. Something that terrified you, to be honest.

Both women adored you, as you did them, but there was something about Christmas that made you want everything to be perfect. The holiday had always been very special to you, and you wanted to honour that, especially in your own home.

The month of December passed in a blur. Before you knew it, you were waking up in the arms of your lover on Christmas Eve morning. The winter sun crept through a crack in the curtains, gently warming your face as you dozed peacefully, your head resting on Alexia’s neck.

“Buenos días, mi amor. We have to get moving if you want food and coffee before we need to leave,” Alexia murmured, her fingers running through your hair, her voice a soft, sleepy hum.

You almost didn’t hear her, still lost in the comfort of her touch. “Good morning, love,” you said, blinking sleepily. “What do you mean leave? Where are we going? I thought I had food to prep for tomorrow.”

You pulled yourself out of the comfortable cocoon of her neck and raised an eyebrow at the teasing smirk on her face.

“I was tasked with the turkey, sí?” she said, her smile widening as you nodded. You'd been so absorbed in your thoughts that you didn’t catch the next part.

“Well, I spoke to your dad because I know you told me you normally drive to the farm to collect the turkey with him on Christmas Eve,” Alexia continued, her voice soft but steady. “He told me he’s done it with you since you were a baby. So, I found a farm about 45 minutes away here that does turkeys. We need to go collect it before noon.”

You didn’t know what to say. A wave of emotion swept over you, and your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to blink them back, not wanting to ruin the moment. You buried your head in her neck again, overwhelmed by her thoughtfulness.

“Thank you… thank you so much,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Alexia simply held you closer, her hands soothing as you fought to regain control of your emotions. This was a Christmas tradition you had always shared with your dad, and the fact that Alexia remembered and made it happen for you here, in Spain, meant more than you could put into words.

When you finally pulled yourself together, you kissed her deeply, pouring all your gratitude into the kiss. You knew if you tried to speak, you would only choke up.

Alexia, smiling softly, kissed you back with equal tenderness, pulling you closer when she wasn’t quite ready to let go. You spent a few more precious moments tangled up in each other, sharing lazy kisses and soft touches, until Alexia playfully pulled you out of bed and towards the kitchen.

The trip to the farm was a joy. You sang Christmas carols along with the radio, the warmth of the car and the company of Alexia making the ride feel almost magical. The festive farm was everything you hoped it would be, warm and cozy, with the scent of hay and pine in the air. Alexia’s face lit up as she saw the decorations, and you couldn’t help but smile at how happy she seemed. She even hummed along to a few of the carols as you drove there.

On the way back, Alexia managed to distract you while she dialled your dad's number. It wasn't until you heard his comforting voice, coming through the car’s speaker system, that you noticed the music had stopped.

“Merry Christmas, kiddo,” your dad’s deep voice boomed through the speakers. “I’m guessing you’ve got the turkey by now. Alexia said she’d call when you were heading back. It’s my turn to drive this year, but I’m glad you have someone to share the tradition with. Love you.”

The words made your heart swell, and you spoke with him for a few minutes before promising to call again on Christmas Day. You spoke to both your dad and Alexia until you reached home, where you could hear the turkey cooking already.

When you arrived home, all you could do was launch yourself at Alexia. She had taken a tradition so deeply rooted in your childhood and made it her own, blending your past and present together in a way you hadn't imagined possible. You felt incredibly blessed.

You knew that the present you had for her was the perfect gift, one that you had spent a long time working out. Because she had given you the best present of all: a Christmas that would forever be remembered, not just for the old traditions you’d kept, but for the new ones she had helped you create.

[sarah-ankh]

I have only two genuine, deep-seated psychological fears. And this probably gonna be very revealing, so I apologise in advance:

1) my father had a chronic terminal condition called sarcoidosis. It's a degenerative auto-immune disorder, and my family are apparently predisposed to them. He was diagnosed with it at 34, literally 2 months before I was born. At the time it was pretty new and poorly understood, and he was given 2 years to live.

Thanks to ongoing medical advancements his life was prolonged, stretched out for 20 years, and I'm grateful for this because it gave me the chance to know and love him. But it also meant I spend the first 2 decades of my life watching him slowly decline as the disease spread from his lungs, to his nervous system, to his other organs, even to his skin as his own body began consuming itself in an endless blood-war. He couldn't walk, or breathe, lesions and gaping, open woulds blossomed across his arms and legs, his flesh turned necrotic and sloughed away. And this brilliant, kind, creative man that I loved, was slowly transformed into a rotting, living corpse.

When I was 18 the disease got into his brain. The symptoms were similar to Alzheimer's or dementia. As his mind began to unravel he became forgetful, displaced in time, he grew paranoid and fearful, and the depression that must have grounded him for years finally started to overwhelm him, and I was the only person he had to confide in.

Finally his heart gave out, unable to bear the strain from the sea of opioids and steroids that were keeping him alive. And I know that he welcomed death as that final release from a living hell.

His mother died the same way. Though without medical intervention she died far quicker, as her body shut down from lack of oxygen.

His younger brother has the same condition though it was caught early, and he has the benefit of 2 decades of experimental treatments my father pioneered.

My aunt escaped that fate, but a flare up in her 20s before the disease went dormant afain has left her with life-long arthritis and breathing difficulties.

This is my fear.

This is the dread that plagues my nightmares.

It's why I refuse to watch gorey horror films.

I dont fear death, because death means freedom. The final utter escape. I fear the living hell that may yet prove to be my inheritance.

2) my other great fear is to be institutionalised. I don't trust my body, I can't. All I have is my mind; My memories, my personality, my intelect as meager as it may be. These things are all I am, all I have. And there's one way they can be taken from me.

The idea of being locked up somewhere, being pumped full of antidepressants and sedatives, and other mind-altering concoctions. Of being stripped of my autonomy, unable to refuse the needle, or the pills. To be forcibly divorced from my own sense of self and cast out to sea with no anchor to ground myself.

Lost to myself and to the world both. And be told "it's for your own good".

These are the only things that truly terrify me.

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[yassbishimvintage]

Hold Me Close

Warnings: Smut, Fluffy fluff, Mentions of Loss.

Word Count: 9.6k

MDNI! Read at your own risk. Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.

A/N: I got a little carried away with this but I hope y'all like it. And thank y'all for the love and support.

Today was the day he was coming back from Shelby Springs. He told her bits and pieces of the story, but the one that she knew hurt the most was that he lost Mike. His cousin that he loved like a brother. 

When he gets home Imani sees the truck he was supposed to buy with his cousin. She rushes outside. “Babe! Babe!” She says to him as he pulls in the driveway. 

He looked broken. When he steps out the truck she notices his arms has bruises and he has a hospital band on his arm. “T? What happened?” She asks. “Too much to talk about, I just want you.” He says wrapping her in a hug.

He’s clearly overwhelmed by everything, and in this moment, he’s seeking solace and comfort from Imani rather than diving into the details. His hug is a way of finding temporary escape from the chaos, a need for closeness and reassurance in the face of everything that’s happened.

Imani felt the weight of his pain in that moment, understanding that he’s not ready to share everything yet, but also feeling the need to be there for him—whether that means offering support or giving him space to heal.

She nods and leads him into their house. He looks around their kitchen. Thanks to the Vet loan that helped them build their house. This was something he gifted her after he got out the Marines. She sits him down in the kitchen to tend to his wounds. 

As Terry looks around, the weight of the moment might hit him. This house is a reflection of the life they both wanted, and now, with everything that has happened, it might feel like a bittersweet reminder of what was supposed to be. Imani leading him to the kitchen shows her nurturing side—she’s not just comforting him emotionally but making sure he’s physically okay as well.

Once seated, there’s a quiet intimacy to this moment. Imani is probably waiting for him to open up at his own pace, giving him the space to breathe and gather himself. She might be worried but is likely holding off on asking too many questions, understanding that Terry needs time to process.

Imani’s soft, reassuring words—“You know you can talk when you’re ready, baby”—are exactly the kind of support Terry needs in this moment. She’s offering him a safe space to open up without pressure, letting him know that she’s there for him whenever he’s ready to share. Her tone is lsoothing, a reminder that she’s not going anywhere, and that he doesn’t have to face this burden alone.

Terry’s response, “I know,” in a voice barely above a whisper, shows just how much he’s holding inside. There’s an acknowledgment that he’s aware of Imani’s support, but he’s not ready to fully open up just yet. His whisper suggests the emotional weight is still too heavy for him to voice out loud. It’s clear that Terry feels the depth of the situation, and even though he appreciates Imani’s presence, he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

In this quiet exchange, there’s an understanding between them: Terry needs time, but he also knows that when he’s ready, Imani will be there to listen. The moment feels fragile but intimate, as if both are waiting for the right time for Terry to truly open up.

After patching him up, Imani sitting with Terry in silence speaks volumes about her understanding of what he needs in that moment. She doesn't try to force conversation; instead, she lets the silence settle between them, providing the space he needs to process everything. Her quiet presence speaks to her deep respect for his emotional state—she knows that sometimes, words aren't necessary. Just being there is enough.

For Terry, the silence may feel heavy at first, but it could also provide a comforting sense of relief. Being with Imani, without pressure, allows him to start grappling with his emotions in a way that feels safe. It’s as though she’s telling him that he doesn’t have to have it all figured out right now.

Terry’s quiet request, “Baby. Can you just come to bed with me?” feels like a longing for comfort and closeness rather than anything more. It’s a subtle but powerful way for him to ask for her support—he doesn’t need to talk, he just needs to be near her, to find some sense of peace in her presence after everything that’s happened.

Imani nodding without hesitation is a silent affirmation that she’s there for him, ready to be the steady presence he needs. It shows her understanding that sometimes the best way to heal is to simply be with someone, no words necessary.

As they head to bed together, the atmosphere could shift into something more tender. There’s no pressure for conversation or for Terry to reveal everything. The act of simply being together in bed could be a safe haven for both of them, a shared space to heal, even in silence.

Whenever something heavy was on his mind he would be the little spoon to her. Him being 6’3 and her being 5’2 was a stark contrast. When they got in bed he rested his head on her chest while he wrapped his arms around her. 

Imani’s gentle touch, tracing circles on Terry’s bare back, is a soothing and intimate gesture. It’s her way of grounding him without the need for words—showing her support through the simple act of physical comfort. Feeling his breathing, steady and deep, might allow her to sense that, while he’s still carrying a lot, he’s finding some peace in her presence. The touch on his back can be both a source of reassurance for Terry and a way for Imani to stay connected to him emotionally without pressuring him to speak.

Her decision not to pry shows her deep respect for Terry’s need for space. She understands that, when he's ready, he’ll talk, but right now, she’s content just being there with him. There’s something incredibly tender about this moment, where the silence and physical closeness speak louder than words ever could.

Imani’s kiss on Terry’s head is a quiet, tender expression of love and reassurance, a gentle way to seal the moment of peace between them. Her whispered words, “You don’t know how much I love you,” are filled with deep affection and the weight of everything they’ve been through together. In that quiet moment, she’s offering him a reminder of her unwavering support, even if he’s still processing everything on his own terms.

As she kisses him and speaks those words, Imani is likely feeling a mix of emotions—concern for what Terry’s carrying, gratitude for their connection, and maybe a touch of sadness that he’s still holding so much inside. But in the stillness of the night, her love for him is the one thing that remains constant and unspoken, offering him the strength to face whatever comes next.

Terry, with his breathing steady and slow, has found some respite in her arms. Her presence is the kind of peace he needs in that moment. It’s as if her love is a quiet anchor in the storm of everything he’s been through.

Soon she falls asleep herself. She somehow some way fell asleep on his chest. His arms made it's way to her waist. 

The soft rays of sunlight gently filtered through the window, slowly pulling Imani from her sleep. She blinked a few times, still feeling the warmth of Terry's body pressed against hers, but as she stretched out her arms, she felt the absence of her favorite pillow—him. The space beside her was empty, and for a moment, a small pang of longing settled in her chest.

Imani’s eyes drifted around their bedroom, still a little groggy from sleep. She smiled softly as her gaze landed on an old Marine Corps t-shirt of Terry’s, draped across the back of a chair. The familiar dark green fabric, faded from years of wear, had the bold letters "MCMAP" printed on it, a reminder of Terry’s time as a Martial Arts Instructor in the Marines. It was one of her favorite shirts to wear when he wasn’t around—it smelled like him, like home, like the comfort of his steady presence.

She pushed herself up from the bed, stretching once more, her muscles still a little stiff, but grateful for the rest. The house was quiet—too quiet without Terry in it. The sound of the coffee maker percolating in the kitchen was the only noise filling the space. She slipped on his shirt, feeling its softness against her skin, and it instantly put her at ease.

Imani loved how it fit her—oversized, comfortable, and a constant reminder of the man she adored. The shirt was a piece of his past, a link to the man he had been before they met, but it had also become part of her daily routine, something she’d wear in the mornings when he wasn’t there, a little piece of him that kept her close to him even when they were apart.

As she walked to the kitchen, the smell of coffee filled the air, and she couldn’t help but smile. She knew Terry was probably already awake, taking care of something or working on his thoughts. Despite his silence about the past few days, Imani knew he was fighting his own battles. She could see it in the way he moved—slow, deliberate—and the way his eyes would sometimes darken with things he couldn’t yet talk about.

She set the coffee pot to brew a fresh pot and leaned against the counter, her fingers gently tracing the edge of the countertop. The sunlight coming through the window illuminated the room in a warm, golden hue, and she let the peace of the moment sink in.

As she waited, she glanced down at the shirt she wore again, her thoughts turning inward. It wasn’t just a shirt. It was a piece of Terry she held close when she missed him, a way to connect with the man who had made her heart feel whole.

A soft rustling noise interrupted her reverie, and she turned just in time to see Terry entering the kitchen. His eyes softened when he saw her wearing the shirt. “You always steal my best clothes,” he teased with a smirk.

Imani smiled warmly, her heart fluttering at the sight of him standing there. “I can’t help it. I love how it feels... like having you here even when you’re not.”

Terry walked toward her, his movements slow but steady. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering as they always did when he was close. “You know,” he said softly, “I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t want to be here with you.”

Imani’s heart skipped a beat. She had heard him say things like this before, but hearing it now, after everything they’d been through, still had the same effect. Her hand reached up to touch his chest, resting there as she met his eyes. “I know, baby. I just need you to talk to me when you're ready, okay?”

Terry nodded, his lips pressing into a firm line as he gazed down at her. “I will,” he promised, his voice quiet but sincere.

The air between them was thick with unspoken words, but for the first time in days, Imani felt the shift. She knew they were moving toward healing, toward understanding. And though they still had a long way to go, she felt a sense of peace in that moment, in the familiarity of the shirt, the warmth of their home, and the love they shared.

“Thank you for last night Imani.” He says softly.

Imani looked up at him, her heart swelling with tenderness at the sincerity in his voice. She had always known how deeply Terry cared for her, but hearing him express it so openly, especially after everything he'd been through, felt like a balm to her soul. She smiled, reaching up to cup his face gently in her hands.

“No need to thank me, babe,” she whispered, her thumb brushing over the stubble on his jaw. “You don’t have to thank me for loving you.”

Terry leaned into her touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. “It’s not just about love,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s about you being there when I didn’t know how to be there for myself. Last night... it meant everything.”

Imani’s heart ached with the weight of his words. She had always seen him as strong—unshakable even—but in this moment, she understood the depth of his vulnerability. They had both been through a lot, but their bond was something that couldn’t be broken by the hardships they faced. She pulled him in for a soft kiss on the lips, a silent reassurance that she was there for him, always.

“I’ll always be here, Terry,” she whispered against his lips, her voice filled with conviction. “No matter what.”

He exhaled a shaky breath, his hands coming to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m not taking this for granted, Imani. I swear I’ll do better... I’ll be the man you deserve.”

Imani’s eyes softened as she looked up at him, her hands gently caressing the back of his neck. “You already are, Terry. You always have been.”

Terry’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. There was no need for grand gestures or more words—just the simple comfort of knowing that they had each other, no matter what the future held.

Imani smiled up at him, the sun shining through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow on their quiet, intimate moment. “Let’s just take things one step at a time,” she said. “We don’t need to have it all figured out right now.”

Terry nodded, his lips curling into a small smile. “One step at a time,” he echoed, pulling her into a hug.

They stood there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, letting the world outside fade away. With every beat of his heart against hers, Imani knew that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them together, just as they always had.

“Tell me what you want to do today.” He says. 

Imani looked up at Terry, her smile playful as she tilted her head slightly, considering his question. She loved that he was trying to take her mind off things, especially after the weight of everything they’d both been through.

“Well,” she started, letting the words hang in the air for a moment as she moved closer to him, “I think I’m in the mood for something... low-key today. Maybe we could start by grabbing some coffee, take a walk, just... get out of the house for a bit.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Sounds like a good plan. Coffee first, though?”

“Definitely coffee,” Imani agreed with a laugh. “And I think we could use a little break from everything. Maybe some time away from the house would do us good.”

Terry’s expression softened, a quiet understanding in his eyes. He knew that sometimes the best thing for both of them was to step away from their daily routine and just enjoy each other’s company, free from the weight of their responsibilities or past struggles.

“Alright,” he said with a nod, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her closer for a brief kiss. “Let’s do it. Coffee, a walk... and maybe some quiet time afterward. Just us.”

Imani grinned, her heart lightening at the thought of a peaceful day spent with him. “Exactly what I need. We’ll leave everything behind for a few hours.”

As they finished getting ready, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief—today wasn’t about tackling the weight of the world. Today was about them, about reconnecting in simple ways. A warm coffee in their hands, the cool air of the day around them, and the comfort of each other’s presence.

“Let’s go,” Imani said, taking his hand and leading him toward the door. “I think today is going to be a good one.”

As Terry and Imani stepped out of their home, the fresh air of the morning seemed to wash over them, offering a moment of peace that both of them needed. The streets were quiet, with only the soft rustling of the trees in the breeze and the distant hum of the city waking up. It was a perfect contrast to the chaos they had both been dealing with recently.

Imani, sensing that Terry was taking it all in, walked beside him in comfortable silence. She loved these moments with him—the ones where words weren’t necessary, where just being together was enough to feel grounded.

Terry took a deep breath, his broad shoulders relaxing as the tension from the past few days seemed to slowly melt away. The simple act of walking alongside Imani, the rhythmic motion of their steps in sync, gave him a sense of calm he hadn’t realized he was missing.

“So,” Imani finally broke the silence, her voice soft but teasing, “anything on your mind? Or are you just enjoying the peace and quiet?”

Terry glanced at her, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. “Just... taking it all in. I needed this. You’re right. Sometimes, just walking with you and being outside helps me clear my head.”

Imani nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. “I get that. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that help, you know? It doesn’t have to be anything big.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a few more moments, the sound of their footsteps accompanying the natural beauty around them. Terry felt the weight in his chest start to lift with each step. With every passing block, the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of them in this peaceful moment.

Imani glanced up at him, noticing the calmness that had returned to his face. “You look more relaxed,” she observed. “This was a good idea.”

Terry looked down at her, his expression sincere. “Yeah. It really was. I’m glad you suggested it.”

They continued walking, their connection deepening with each step. For the first time in a while, Terry felt like he was truly present, like everything he’d been through, everything he was still carrying, could take a backseat for a while.

It was moments like this—when the world felt still, when they didn’t have to talk about the past or the future—that made him realize just how much Imani meant to him. She was his anchor, the one person who could always pull him back from the edge, reminding him of the simple joys of life.

After a while, they came to a small park, where they found a bench to sit and continue their quiet day. Terry leaned back, his arm resting around Imani’s shoulders as she nestled into his side.

“I needed this more than I realized,” he said softly, his voice full of gratitude. “Thank you for bringing me out here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Imani looked up at him, her eyes full of warmth. “You’ll never have to find out,” she said simply, her hand gently resting on his chest. “I’m always here.”

They sat together, watching the world pass by, knowing that no matter what came next, they would face it hand in hand. The peace of the moment wrapped around them, offering both of them a rare kind of clarity and quiet—a reminder that, sometimes, taking it slow and being together was exactly what they needed.

He glanced over at her. “Someone looks like they went up a bra size.” He smirks. He always joked about her gaining happy weight with him.

Imani laughed softly at Terry’s teasing comment, her eyes narrowing playfully as she bumped her shoulder against his. “Oh, really?” she replied, her tone light but with a hint of sass. “Well, maybe I’m just finally learning to enjoy all those home-cooked meals you keep feeding me.”

Terry chuckled, his hand gently squeezing hers. He loved how she didn’t take his teasing too seriously. It was one of the many things he adored about her—her ability to laugh at herself, and the way she always made him feel like everything he said, even in jest, was just part of their dynamic.

“I can’t help it,” he continued, his smirk widening. “You make it too easy to spoil you. And hey, a little extra weight never hurt anyone, especially when it comes to you.” He gave her a wink, clearly enjoying the playful back-and-forth between them.

Imani rolled her eyes, though there was a softness to her smile as she leaned into him more. “I swear, you always know how to make me laugh,” she said, shaking her head but not without affection. “But for the record, I think you’re the one who’s gaining a little ‘happy weight,’ too.”

Terry raised an eyebrow, his grin turning mischievous. “Oh, you think so? You really wanna go there?”

Imani’s lips curled into a smirk. “Hey, someone’s been living pretty well lately. I’m not saying it’s all the late-night snacks, but... maybe it’s time to hit the gym together?”

Terry laughed again, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, now you want to get all healthy on me?” He teased, nudging her playfully with his elbow. “I thought we were enjoying all that food together. What happened to that?”

“I’m all for enjoying things, Terry, but I’m just saying...” She shrugged, a sly smile on her lips. “Maybe a little balance wouldn’t hurt.”

He sighed dramatically, but there was warmth in his eyes as he looked at her. “Alright, alright. Maybe we can start tomorrow. But for now, let’s just enjoy this, yeah? No need to worry about the gym today.”

Imani agreed with a soft chuckle, her hand resting on his chest. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The two of them continued their walk, their light-hearted teasing a comfortable rhythm that kept the mood easy and carefree. It was these moments, where they could laugh together and share little jokes, that made their relationship feel like home—perfectly imperfect, but always real.

“But seriously. What size cup is my beautiful girlfriend?” He asks.

Imani raised an eyebrow at Terry's bold question, her lips curling into a playful smile. She’d heard him tease her about her appearance countless times before, but this felt like one of his more direct comments. She couldn’t help but laugh, her voice light and teasing.

“Oh, so now we’re talking cup sizes, huh?” she replied, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “You’re really asking that now, huh, after everything we’ve been through?”

Terry gave her a cocky grin, his eyes glinting with amusement. “I mean, I’m just curious. You look even more gorgeous than usual, so I thought I’d ask.”

Imani rolled her eyes but her smile widened as she nudged him with her elbow. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, still grinning. “But if you must know, I’m not telling you. You’re the one who’s always staring anyway.”

Terry laughed, shrugging his broad shoulders. “Hey, I can’t help it. I admire the whole package.” He winked at her, giving her a playful kiss on the cheek. “Just curious if it’s my cooking or your natural beauty that’s making you even more irresistible.”

Imani shook her head, the warmth in her chest growing. “You’re something else, Terry. But don’t think you’re getting away with that one. I’m keeping that secret.”

Terry grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Fair enough, babe. But I’ll just keep appreciating the view in my own way, then.”

She laughed again, shaking her head in amusement. “You’re impossible, but that’s why I love you.”

With that, the playful teasing between them continued as they walked, a shared sense of humor making everything feel light and easy. It was these moments that strengthened their bond, where jokes and laughter kept them connected, no matter what else was going on in their lives.

“The first thing I noticed was damn my girl thick in the ass and thighs. I’m lucky.” He smirks

Imani’s eyes widened at Terry’s blunt compliment, but she couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from her chest. It was the kind of honesty he always carried with him, the kind that made her love him even more. She shot him a side-eye, trying to mask her smile as she shook her head.

“Damn, you really just gonna say that out loud?” she teased, poking him in the ribs. “You trying to get me all embarrassed in the middle of the street?”

Terry only smirked wider, his arm casually draped over her shoulder as they continued walking. “I’m just saying, I’m lucky as hell,” he replied with that easy confidence of his. “You know it, I know it. That’s just the truth.”

Imani rolled her eyes but the blush creeping onto her cheeks gave her away. She couldn’t deny that she loved how openly he appreciated her. It was something she hadn’t experienced much in the past—being loved without hesitation, without games.

“Well, I’m not complaining either,” she shot back, her voice turning playful as she leaned closer into him. “You’re lucky I even put up with you, Mr. ‘Thick in the Ass and Thighs.’”

Terry laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “Oh, I know. But trust me, I’d be a fool not to appreciate it,” he said, pulling her closer by the waist. “I’m not just talking about your curves, either. You’re beautiful all the way around, inside and out.”

Imani’s heart softened, the teasing moment turning into something tender. She met his gaze and smiled warmly, her voice quieter now. “I know, baby. I love you too.”

Terry kissed the top of her head, his hand gently resting on her back. “Good, ‘cause I’m lucky to have you.”

They continued walking, the easy banter and genuine affection between them making the moment feel perfect. Every exchange, whether playful or serious, was a reminder of how deep their bond ran, and it was clear that no matter what happened, they’d always have each other.

When they arrived home, the quiet of their house enveloped them, a welcome contrast to the noise and rush of the outside world. Terry slipped off his shoes at the door, letting out a long breath as he stretched his shoulders, the weight of the day lifting with each movement. He made his way to the couch, sinking into the soft cushions, finally feeling like he could truly relax.

As Imani disappeared into their shared bedroom to change, Terry took a moment to himself, the events of the past day running through his mind. He felt the lingering ache in his muscles, a reminder of his injuries, but it was nothing compared to the weight that had been on his heart. The conversation with Imani, the comfort of their time together—it was the balm he needed to heal.

He reached for the remote and flicked on the TV, though he wasn’t really paying attention to it. His thoughts kept drifting back to Imani. He loved her with everything he had, and in moments like this, when it was just the two of them, everything felt right.

Imani reappeared from the bedroom a few minutes later, now in a simple pair of sweatpants and one of Terry’s old t-shirts. The sight of her in his shirt always brought a soft smile to his face, as if she belonged to him in the most intimate way possible. Her hair was a little messy from taking it out of the bun, and her eyes were warm, soft, the way they always were when she was with him.

She walked over to him, her movements graceful, and gently sat down beside him on the couch. "Feeling better?" she asked, her voice quiet, a mix of care and curiosity.

Terry smiled, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "Yeah. A lot better. I just needed some time with you," he admitted, his voice low, almost reverent.

Imani leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder as she wrapped an arm around his waist. "I’m glad. I hate seeing you like that," she murmured, her fingers tracing light patterns on his chest. "You know I’m always here, right? For whatever you need."

He nodded, holding her close, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. "I know. And I love you for it. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more."

There was a comfortable silence between them for a moment, just the soft sounds of the TV in the background and their steady breathing. Terry let his head fall back against the couch, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over him. His arm wrapped around Imani, pulling her even closer, as if he could hold onto this feeling forever.

"Thank you," he whispered after a while. "For being here with me. For making everything better."

Imani smiled, lifting her head to meet his gaze. "You’re welcome, baby. You don’t ever have to thank me for that."

Terry kissed her forehead, his heart full. They didn’t need words for this; just being together was enough.

Imani settled more comfortably on the couch, stretching her legs out and resting her feet in Terry’s lap. She was still scrolling through her phone, occasionally pausing to read something or reply to a text, her fingers moving fluidly over the screen. The soft glow of the phone illuminated her face, and Terry couldn’t help but watch her, the familiarity of her presence bringing a calm over him.

He absently stroked the top of her feet with his fingers, a small gesture that brought him peace. It was a quiet, intimate moment—just the two of them, unwinding together after the chaos of the day.

Terry flipped through the TV channels without much interest. The images on the screen didn’t really grab his attention, but it felt comforting to just have the noise in the background. His mind kept wandering back to the past few days, to the weight he’d carried, but now, with Imani here beside him, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

Imani glanced up at him, catching his gaze for a moment before returning her attention to her phone. She could tell he was lost in thought, and she wasn’t sure if it was something she should press him about or just let him work through it in his own time.

"You’re awfully quiet," she remarked softly, her voice teasing but gentle. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Terry let out a small sigh, his fingers pausing as he traced circles on the soles of her feet. "Just thinking. About everything and nothing, I guess," he admitted, his voice low.

Imani smiled softly and shifted, resting her phone down on the coffee table and giving him her full attention. "Want to talk about it?"

He shook his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not really. Just… glad to be here with you."

Her eyes softened, and she sat up slightly, resting a hand on his chest. "I’m glad to be here with you too, Terry. We don’t always have to talk about everything. Sometimes just being here is enough."

Terry’s hand slid up to cup her face gently, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. "Yeah, it is."

The moment stretched on, comfortable and peaceful, as they settled into each other's company. The world outside faded away, and for this moment, it was just the two of them, together, in their little bubble of quiet.

Imani stretched as she stood up from the couch, her body feeling the weight of the day. She gave Terry a playful smile as she walked toward their shared bedroom, her steps light as she headed toward the bed. The soft glow from the bedside lamp cast a warm, inviting light over the room.

As she pulled back the covers, she let out a long yawn, her arms reaching above her head as she stretched. The yawn seemed to echo the exhaustion she hadn’t even realized was creeping in. The past few days had been heavy, and now, in the quiet comfort of their room, it felt like the tension was finally starting to leave her body.

Imani slipped off her sweatpants, deciding to change into something more comfortable for the night, knowing it would be the last thing they’d do before resting. She ran her fingers through her hair, gathering it into a loose ponytail, and then pulled on one of Terry’s old t-shirts—one that had become her favorite to sleep in. The soft fabric, the familiar scent of him, it always made her feel close to him, even when they were drifting off to sleep.

She turned back toward the bed, her body a little sore from the long day, but also feeling a sense of calm that she couldn’t shake. Terry had come back to her, and for now, everything felt right.

When she crawled into bed, she snuggled into the covers, turning onto her side to face him. Her eyes studied him as he sat on the edge of the bed, probably lost in his thoughts again.

“Hey,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Come here.”

Terry glanced over at her, the exhaustion of the day evident on his face. He stood slowly, stretching his back before walking over to the bed. He slipped in beside her, his arm naturally finding its way around her waist as he pulled her close. They settled into the familiar rhythm of their shared space, their bodies fitting together as if they had been made for this moment.

Imani let out another contented sigh, her eyes closing as she rested her head against his chest. It had been a long day, but this felt like home—the two of them together, safe and at peace.

"Love you," Terry mumbled into her hair, his voice drowsy.

"I love you too," Imani murmured back, her fingers lightly tracing over his arm.

And with that, they drifted off into the quiet of the night, the weight of the world outside their door feeling just a little lighter with each breath they took together.

Imani's eyes fluttered open in the morning to the sound of her phone ringing. She groaned softly, burrowing further into Terry’s embrace, savoring the warmth of his strong, muscular arms around her. His embrace always made her feel safe, as if nothing in the world could touch her when he was close.

But the ringing phone persisted, and she finally pulled herself away from his chest with a reluctant sigh. She reached over and grabbed the phone from the nightstand, her eyes squinting as she checked the caller ID. It was work—of course. She could never seem to get a break, especially when she wanted nothing more than to stay wrapped in Terry’s arms and forget about everything else.

Imani silently cursed under her breath, but she answered the call anyway, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. “Hello?”

Terry, still half-asleep, pulled himself up on his elbows, watching her from the bed as she took the call. He could see the way she shifted, the slight tension in her posture when it was work calling. He knew how much she hated it, especially when it interrupted their mornings together.

“Imani, I’m sorry to bother you so early,” the voice on the other end said. “But we’ve got a situation here. Can you come in? We need your input.”

Imani rubbed her forehead, already feeling the weight of the conversation. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in about an hour,” she replied, trying to sound more professional than she felt. She ended the call, her fingers lingering on the screen for a moment before she tossed the phone back onto the nightstand with a frustrated sigh.

Terry sat up fully now, his brow furrowed. He knew how hard it was for Imani to balance everything—her work, their relationship, and everything else. He could see it in the way her shoulders tensed when something like this happened. He didn’t want her to have to deal with it, especially not on a morning like this when everything had felt so peaceful.

“Babe, you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” he said softly, his voice hoarse from sleep. He reached over and gently stroked her arm, his touch meant to reassure her.

Imani smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I have to. You know how it is.” She didn’t want to burden him with her work troubles, but it was part of her life. She’d never be able to turn it off completely. Not while she was still in the thick of it.

Terry sighed, not liking it one bit, but understanding her sense of responsibility. “If you need anything, you know I’ve got your back, right?” he said, his eyes meeting hers with unspoken support. “You don’t have to do it all on your own.”

Imani nodded, her heart swelling with affection for him. He was always her rock, the one she could count on no matter what. But sometimes, it still felt like she had to carry the weight of everything herself.

“I know,” she said, her voice soft but grateful. “Thanks, Terry.”

With a final kiss on his lips, she stood up from the bed and moved toward the closet. She knew she had to get ready, but she could already feel the heaviness of the day settling in. Terry’s gaze followed her as she began to change into something more presentable, his thoughts drifting back to what had happened the day before—the weight of everything that had been on his mind. But he pushed it aside for now. Right now, his focus was on Imani.

At her desk, Imani sat back in her chair with a long, deep sigh. The weight of the morning hung on her shoulders as she tried to focus on the work in front of her, but her mind kept drifting back to Terry. She glanced around her office, taking in the familiar surroundings, but there was only one thing that really caught her eye: a picture on the corner of her desk.

It was her favorite photo of the two of them—a moment from their trip to Disney. In it, Terry stood with his lips gently pressed against her forehead, his strong bicep practically taking up the entire side of the picture. She smiled at the memory. He had always been protective of her in such a comforting, effortless way, and that moment, captured in time, had reminded her of everything she loved about him.

Imani picked up the photo frame, her fingers tracing the edge of the glass. She could almost feel the warmth of Terry’s embrace again, the way his arms had felt around her as they wandered through the park, laughing at the silliest things. It was one of those rare, perfect days when everything seemed to fall into place.

As she stared at the picture, the weight of the phone call from earlier began to resurface. There was a sense of duty that she couldn’t ignore, no matter how much she wanted to. But at the same time, the photo reminded her of the life she was building with Terry, of the support he always offered, even when she felt like she was carrying the world on her shoulders.

“Why can’t every day be like that?” she muttered to herself, setting the frame back down on the desk.

But the reality of her responsibilities wasn’t going to wait. She could feel the pull of work demanding her attention, and she couldn’t ignore the fact that there were lives depending on her input. She let out another sigh, this time with more resolve, and shifted her focus to the task at hand.

Just before she dove back into her work, Imani took a moment to close her eyes and think of Terry. She didn’t need to see him right now to feel his presence. It was there, in everything she did. She knew, without a doubt, that he was her rock—the one person who would never let her fall, no matter how heavy the world felt.

With a deep breath, she turned her attention to her computer screen, putting the personal distractions aside for a moment. But in the back of her mind, she knew she would be counting down the hours until she could see Terry again, find solace in his arms, and steal back some of those small moments of peace.

As the day dragged on, Imani found herself losing track of time. The calls, emails, and never-ending meetings seemed to blur together. Her thoughts kept drifting back to Terry, to the peacefulness of the morning before everything had to be put on hold. But now, sitting at her desk, she couldn’t shake the exhaustion that had begun to settle in her bones.

Her phone buzzed, cutting through the monotony of the office. She glanced down and saw Terry’s name lighting up the screen. A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she unlocked her phone.

“What’s for dinner tonight? I’m thinking something simple, but I’ll make it good. How’s your day going?”

Imani chuckled softly, his familiar voice even in text making her feel a little lighter. It was exactly what she needed—a reminder of her life outside of the office. She quickly typed back, trying to keep the conversation casual despite the stress of her day.

“It’s dragging on. I swear, time moves slower when I’m stuck in here. But I’m looking forward to dinner. You’re the best at making the simple things feel special.”

She hit send, feeling the weight of the workday slowly lifting off her shoulders, replaced by the warmth of anticipation. She didn't know what Terry had planned for dinner, but just the thought of him taking care of her, of them sitting down together at the end of the day, made her feel grounded.

A few moments later, his reply came through:

“I’ve got us covered. Just relax when you get home, babe. You’ve earned it.”

Imani smiled, feeling a flutter of affection for him. He always knew how to make her feel seen, even when she was buried under piles of work. She glanced at the clock, realizing the day was almost over. Her energy had been drained, but knowing Terry would be there when she got home filled her with a sense of calm she hadn’t realized she was missing.

“I’ll be home soon. Can't wait to see you.”

She placed her phone down, taking a moment to breathe. The stress of the day hadn’t fully disappeared, but now, with the thought of Terry waiting for her, it didn’t seem quite as heavy.

-

As Imani stepped through the front door, the familiar scent of garlic, herbs, and rich tomato sauce filled the air. Her senses immediately relaxed, and her stomach growled in response. She closed her eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply—lasagna. Terry knew exactly how to comfort her after a long day.

She slipped off her shoes and made her way to the kitchen, where she found him standing by the stove, the oven door open and the lasagna just about ready. Terry, wearing a faded T-shirt and his usual relaxed jeans, was humming softly to himself as he prepared the final touches.

Imani leaned against the doorframe, watching him for a moment. The sight of him always grounded her. The way he moved, calm and steady, even in the kitchen, was just one of the many things she adored about him. And tonight, he was making her favorite dish—he always pulled out all the stops when he knew she'd had a hard day.

Terry looked up, a soft smile forming on his face when he saw her. "Welcome home, baby," he said, his voice warm and full of affection. "Lasagna’s almost ready."

Imani couldn’t help but smile back as she walked toward him, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "You’re the best," she murmured, her hands finding his waist as she settled against him. "This smells incredible."

He chuckled softly, pulling her in for a brief hug before letting her go. "Figured you’d need some comfort food," he said, his eyes softening as they met hers. "I know how much you love it."

She leaned back slightly, looking up at him, her gaze softening with a mix of appreciation and love. "You always know just what I need," she said quietly, her fingers tracing the lines of his shirt.

Terry smiled, brushing a lock of hair from her face. "I just want you to feel good. You deserve it after the kind of day you’ve had."

Imani felt a warmth spread through her chest. She was lucky—lucky to have him by her side, always ready to care for her in ways big and small. "I feel good now," she said softly, her lips curving into a smile.

He stepped back toward the oven, pulling the lasagna out and setting it on the counter to cool. "Dinner’s served. I’ll get us some wine."

Imani pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, settling into it as she watched Terry move about. The simple, comforting normalcy of the moment was exactly what she needed. After everything that had been on her mind today, this felt like home—Terry, the food, the quiet after a busy day.

When he returned with two glasses of wine, he set one in front of her before taking a seat across from her. They exchanged a quiet, knowing look, the kind of look that passed between them after years of being together. She lifted her glass in a small toast. "To us," she said softly.

Terry clinked his glass against hers. "To us," he agreed, his voice low and full of meaning.

The rest of the evening passed by peacefully as they enjoyed their meal, the quiet hum of conversation and laughter filling the room. Imani let herself unwind, the weight of the day slowly lifting as she soaked in the comfort of Terry’s presence.

After finishing their meal, the warmth of the evening lingered in the air as Imani moved toward the living room. Terry was already on the couch, casually reclined and looking more relaxed than he had in days. The easygoing comfort of their home was just what he needed, and she couldn’t help but smile as she walked over to him.

Imani moved in closer, feeling the subtle pull between them. Without saying a word, she straddled his lap, settling herself comfortably against him. The contact was familiar and reassuring. Terry’s eyes softened as he met her gaze, a small, amused smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Well, hello there,” he said, his voice low and warm, clearly enjoying the closeness between them.

Imani smirked and leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered, “I thought I’d come keep you company.” Her hands gently rested on his shoulders, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath her touch. She could tell he was enjoying the way they fit together—his big, solid frame supporting her as she straddled him.

Terry’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her in just a little closer. His smile deepened as he looked at her, his fingers tracing gentle circles on her back. “You always know how to make me feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he said softly, his voice thick with affection.

Imani grinned, feeling a flutter of warmth in her chest. “You’re pretty lucky,” she teased, before capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It was soft at first, their lips barely grazing, savoring the comfort of being so close.

Terry’s hands tightened around her waist, deepening the kiss, his lips moving against hers with a mix of passion and tenderness. As they kissed, Imani felt all the stress of the day melt away. There was something so grounding about being with him, about the way he always seemed to know exactly what she needed—whether it was a comforting dinner or the quiet intimacy they shared now.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, she rested her forehead against his. “I missed you today,” she whispered, her voice quiet, filled with the weight of her emotions.

“I missed you too,” he murmured back, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “You know I can’t stand being apart from you.”

Imani smiled softly, leaning in to kiss him again. This was their moment, a space where everything else in the world faded away, leaving just the two of them—together, as they always were.

Imani deepened the kiss, her lips moving with a sense of urgency, feeling the tension that had been building between them all day. She pulled back for a moment, her eyes searching his before she slowly began to tug at the hem of his shirt. There was a familiar pull between them, a silent understanding of how they both needed this closeness, this connection.

Terry’s hands moved to help her, lifting his arms so she could pull the shirt off with ease. As she slid it over his head, she couldn’t help but admire the sight of his strong, sculpted chest. The muscles that had always impressed her now seemed even more alluring, and she couldn’t resist running her fingers lightly across his skin, feeling the heat of his body.

Terry’s breath hitched slightly at her touch, his hands sliding down her back as she moved closer to him. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice a mix of admiration and desire.

Imani smiled, her lips brushing against his as she leaned in again. “I know,” she whispered, her hands sliding to the waistband of his sweatpants. She paused for just a moment, savoring the intensity of the moment, before she slowly began to remove them, leaving him in just his boxers.

Terry’s hands moved to her shirt, the desire in his eyes clear. He helped her take it off, his lips brushing along her jawline, savoring the warmth of her skin. “You’re perfect,” he murmured as his lips found her neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along the sensitive skin there.

Imani let out a soft sigh, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him back up to kiss him again. This kiss was different—deeper, more intense—as if the both of them had been holding back for too long and now the floodgates had opened. She pressed her body closer to his, feeling the heat of his skin against hers, the intensity of their connection growing with each passing second.

Terry’s hands were steady, guiding hers to the waistband of his sweats as his voice dropped to a low, heated whisper. The intensity in his eyes made it clear how much he wanted her, how he craved this moment with her. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, urging her forward, while his lips hovered just above her ear, his breath warm against her skin.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Imani’s heart raced at the sound of his voice. She could feel the same anticipation swirling between them, the way their bodies responded to each other’s touch. Her fingers moved to the waistband of his sweats, hesitating for just a moment, before she met his gaze.

Her eyes locked onto his, filled with desire and an unspoken understanding. “I want you,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. She let her hands slide into the waistband of his sweats, her fingertips grazing his skin as she slowly pulled them down, taking her time, savoring the tension that built between them with every small movement.

As she worked, Terry’s hands slid to her waist, guiding her back down to his lap. His lips found hers once more, gentle but urgent, as if time had slowed and they had all the space in the world to explore one another. His touch was tender yet firm, his hands tracing the curve of her back before moving to her thighs, pulling her closer, if that was even possible.

“I’m yours,” he said softly between kisses, the words a promise and a plea, all wrapped into one.

Imani leaned into him, her fingers still teasing the waistband of his sweats, before finally pushing them down and off. She couldn’t resist trailing her fingers over his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under her touch. She felt safe, secure, and loved in his arms, and as their connection deepened, the world outside of them faded away.

Terry’s breath hitched as Imani lowered his sweats, his body reacting to the closeness of hers, to the intimate moment they were sharing. He looked at her, his expression soft but full of longing.

"Babe..." she said softly, her voice laced with affection and something deeper, a hunger that matched his own.

He reached for her, his hands brushing against her sides as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing over her forehead before trailing down to her lips. "You don’t know how badly I want you," he murmured, his voice rough but filled with love and passion.

Imani felt the weight of his words, her own desire for him reflecting in her gaze. She let her hands roam over his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath beneath her touch. She knew exactly what he needed, what they both needed, and without hesitation, she let her lips meet his again, this time with more urgency, as if they both had been waiting for this moment far too long.

Terry responded instantly, his hands finding her hips and pulling her closer to him, pressing her body against his. The contact was electric, and for a moment, all they could feel was the heat between them, the way their bodies fit together so perfectly.

He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, breathing heavily. "I love you so much, Imani. You’re everything to me," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Imani smiled softly, tracing the outline of his jaw with her fingers. "I love you too, Terry. More than you know," she whispered back, before leaning in to kiss him once more, letting their connection deepen further.

Terry’s hands settled at the waistband of Imani’s pajama pants, his fingers brushing the soft fabric as he looked up at her, his gaze filled with a mixture of love and desire. The room seemed to quiet around them, leaving only the sound of their breathing as they shared this intimate space.

Imani met his gaze, her own eyes dark with longing. She could feel the heat between them, an unspoken understanding passing between them as he slowly began to slip the pants off her hips. His touch was gentle, yet there was an undeniable urgency in the way he moved, a sense that they had both been waiting for this moment for too long.

She helped him, lifting her hips slightly to allow him to pull them down, and as the fabric slid off her body, her bare skin brushed against his, sending a shiver through her.

Terry paused for a moment, his hands resting on her bare thighs as he looked at her, his breath shaky. "You’re beautiful, Imani. Absolutely perfect," he whispered, his voice low and filled with awe.

Imani smiled softly, her hands reaching up to run through his hair, her fingers gently tugging him closer. "I’m yours, Terry. Always have been, always will be," she whispered back, her voice full of love and trust.

With that, Terry leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was as tender as it was passionate. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her close as their bodies pressed together. In that moment, there was no past, no future—just the here and now, the two of them wrapped up in each other.

He gently leaned her back into the pillows, leaving a trail of wet kisses down her body. She inhaled at the sensation. “Tonight, I’m going to make you scream my name.” he says as he makes his way down.

True to word he kept his promise. 

The next morning, Imani woke up with a contented sigh, the warmth of Terry's body still radiating against hers. She could feel the tenderness in her muscles, a reminder of the passion they had shared the night before. Her body was sore, but in the best possible way, a familiar feeling she had come to associate with their most intimate moments together.

Terry was still asleep, his arm wrapped around her waist, holding her close. His steady breathing and the comforting weight of his arm made her feel safe, loved, and cherished. She couldn't help but smile as she traced a finger along his arm, her thoughts drifting back to the night they had just shared.

She felt a wave of affection for him, a deep love that ran so much deeper than the physical. Terry was her rock, the person who had stood by her side through thick and thin, and even on mornings like this, when she was sore and exhausted, she felt nothing but gratitude for the man in her life.

Imani shifted slightly, careful not to disturb him, and snuggled deeper into his chest, letting the sound of his heartbeat lull her back into a peaceful moment of quiet intimacy.

Tags 🏷️ :

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @kimuzostar @notpradagurl7

[scribblesofagoonerr]

first christmas | buddy & monkey: double the trouble

summary: the second part of the flash back to buddy & monkey's first christmas.

double the trouble masterlist

Christmas morning had arrived, and the faint golden light filtered through the curtains. You tiptoed down the stairs, the cosy warmth of the house contrasting with the crisp winter chill outside.

As you reached the bottom of the stairs, your eyes widened at the sight before you. Beneath the Christmas tree, a mountain of presents was neatly stacked up, each of them wrapped in colourful paper.

The room seemed to sparkle with magic, it was the kind you had only seen in movies or dreamed about as a child.

"Woah," You whispered, your voice filled with disbelief.

Leah appeared from the kitchen, holding a steaming drink in her hands that definitely wasn't for her considering she despised coffee, "Merry Christmas, my girl." She said warmly, stepping closer to you.

You blinked, still trying to process what you were seeing, "Are... Are all of these for me?" You asked hesitantly, as if afraid the answer might be no.

Leah chuckled and nodded, "For you, and for Buddy," She said, gesturing toward your favourite little buddy, who was babbling happily on the floor, sitting between Jordan's legs, attempting to chew on wrapping paper.

Jordan grinned at you, "Go ahead and open them, little one." She encouraged you.

You were hesitant, glancing at the sheer number of presents under the tree, "But... But I didn't ask for any of this," You said quietly, your fingers brushing against the wrapping paper of one of the small gifts.

"Well that's okay," Leah said, placing the steaming mug on the coffee table before moving to crouch down beside you, "You've been on Santa's nice list, and luckily, he knew exactly what you would like."

You brow furrowed as you tilted your head, "There's so many of them-- Wait, he knew?" Your eyes felt like they bulged out of it's sockets at those words.

"Yeah, he's been watching you all year round to see whether you've been bad or good," Leah stated, her expression turning playful, "Clearly Santa thinks you've been good this year." She added.

You scrunched up your nose, "He still sounds like a creep," You muttered, making Jordan burst into laughter from across the room, "I don't know what to open first." You added, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

"It's okay to take your time with them," Leah reassured you, "How about you over this side first?"

"Okay," You said, picking up a box about twice the size of your hand as you carefully tore into the wrapping paper, revealing a LEGO set. Your eyes lit up in excitement as you held it up, "Whoa, cool! LEGO! Thanks! I wanted this!" You exclaimed, turning to Leah and Jordan with a wide grin.

"There's plenty more to open," Jordan said, nodding toward the pile.

You dove back in, picking up another package, this one wrapped in a different kind of wrapping paper, "Cool! I love it, thank you!" You exclaimed, holding up the hoodie in your hands.

"That one is of my parents," Leah explained, smiling softly.

"Really?" Your eyes widened in shock, "I... I never expected it. Can I open the rest?" You asked eagerly.

"Of course you can," Leah said, ruffling your hair affectionately.

Meanwhile, Buddy had found her own source of entertainment: the discarded wrapping paper. She giggled and crinkled it in her tiny fists, clearly more interested in the noise it made than the actual gifts.

"She's more entertained by that than her presents," Jordan laughed, shaking her head in amusement.

"We could have saved so much money," Leah joked, amused with Buddy's antics, "You're not supposed to eat it, bubba."

But you were too engrossed in your presents to notice, "Woah! No way-- I have wanted one of these for ages! Thank you!" You grinned, holding the box of a fresh Nintendo Switch, one that you'd been looking at for ages.

"Don't thank us, thank Santa Clause," Leah teased.

"No way. That dudes' a creep!" You shot back, making Leah and Jordan both laugh, "Can I set it up, now?"

"You still have other presents to open, but in a bit you can," Leah said, shaking her head fondly.

"Can I take it out with us? Please?" You asked, already planning how you'd show off your new toy.

"That's fine, just be careful, okay?" Leah agreed.

"Deal! Thank you-- Whoa, this is totally awesome. Cool, Mario Kart!" You exclaimed, holding up the game in your hand.

"Open the present on your right, little one," Jordan prompted, clearly knowing what it was.

You tore into it eagerly and gasped, "A steering wheel? Awesome!"

"Apparently this is the one that's top of the range at the moment," Jordan explained with a proud smile, "We asked the man himself, who was certain about it."

"So cool!" You said, your excitement growing with each gift.

By the time you had opened all of your gifts, you were overwhelmed with the stacks of presents that you had from Leah, Jordan and both of their families, "I... I don't even know what to say," You admitted, looking at Leah and Jordan with wide eyes, "Thank... Thank you."

Leah smiled, leaning down to hug you tightly, "You're worth it, my girl."

Jordan joined the hug, Buddy nestled in her arms, "Merry Christmas, little one. Welcome to the family."

"Are we there yet?" You groaned, slumping dramatically in your seat as the car pulled out of the driveway.

Jordan glanced at you through the rearview mirror, one eyebrow arched in bemusement, "We've only just left our house, little one. At least wait until we're on the motorway before you start complaining, eh?"

"But I'm bored, and the car is cramped!" You whined, squirming in the backseat for emphasis, you were sat beside Buddy in her carseat, making the space feel even tighter, "How much longer until we're there?"

"About forty minutes," Leah replied from the passenger seat, scrolling idly through her phone.

"Forty minutes? That's, like, forever!" You protested, dragging out the word with as much melodrama as possible.

"Time will pass before you know it," Leah said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at your dramatics.

"I don't think it will. I'm so bored," You complained, letting out an exaggerated huff and then leaned forward slightly, "I'm hungry. Can I have some chocolate?"

"No," Leah replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for debate, "You'll spoil your dinner."

"But I'm really hungry," You pressed, sticking out your lower lip in an attempt to look pitiful.

Jordan chuckled in amusement, her eyes focused on the road up ahead, "I'm sure you'll survive until we get there, little one."

"I don't think so," You countered with mock seriousness, "I'll starve before we get to Milton Keynes!"

Leah snorted, shaking her head, "You're being ridiculous. You literally had breakfast this morning. You'll survive."

"I'm not convinced," You grumbled under your breath, slumping further in your seat. Turning your attention to Buddy, you wiggled your fingers toward her sock-clad-feet, earning a squeal of delight from the 8 month old, "What do you think, Buddy? Aren't they being unfair?"

"Oh I'm sure she's definitely going to agree with you," Jordan teased, glancing at you in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at her lips.

You continued entertaining Buddy, making silly faces and tickling her feet, "Mummy and Mama are trying to starve me," You declared dramatically, "It's an outrage, right?"

Buddy responded with a happy babble and flailed her little arms, which you immediately interpreted as agreement, "See? Even Buddy agrees with me!" You said triumphantly, "So, can I have chocolate now?"

"My answer is still no, Menace," Leah said without missing a beat, her tone firm but playful.

"Ugh, so not fair," You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and slouching back into your seat.

You absolutely despised long car rides, and you definitely made sure that both Leah and Jordan were painfully aware of your feelings.

"Are we there yet?"  You questioned no less than 10 minutes later.

Leah let out an exaggerated sigh, "Not since the last time you asked, no."

"I'm bored!" You exclaimed dramatically.

"Hi, bored," Jordan quipped without missing a beat.

"Ha ha ha, you're hilarious..." You muttered sarcastically.

"I know," Jordan replied smugly, "I get that a lot."

You scrunched your face up, "Urgh, you're so annoying, and I'm still bored."

"Hi, still bored," Jordan teased, flashing you a cheeky grin in the mirror as she strummed her hands on the car steering wheel to the music that was playing, and ironically enough it was driving home for christmas.

"Babe," Leah chuckled, shaking her head, "Maybe I should've gotten you a Dad Jokes book for Christmas instead."

"No need, love. I'm naturally gifted," Jordan replied with a wink.

"More like you’re naturally annoying," You muttered, earning a laugh from Leah.

"Alright, Monkey," Leah said, turning slightly in her seat to face you, "If you're going to keep whining, how about we play a game to pass the time?"

"A game? Like what?" You asked cautiously.

"How about the quiet game?" Leah suggested, her lips twitching with amusement.

You scoffed, shaking your head in protest, "That's lame! Can't we play something better instead?"

"Like what?" Jordan questioned.

"Um... I don't know, like 'I spy'!" You declared, your eyes lighting up.

"Alright," Leah said with a sigh, "You start then."

You grinned mischievously, "I spy with my little eye... something red!"

"The air freshener?" Jordan guessed.

"Nope!" You exclaimed.

"The presents in the gift bag," Leah tried her luck.

"Wrong again!" You smirked in amusement.

Jordan arched her eyebrow, "Buddy's coat?" She asked.

"Nope, not even close," You said smugly.

"Something red? There's not much else in here," Leah mused.

"Give up?" You asked, bouncing slightly in your seat with excitement.

"I do," Jordan admitted, using her free hand to scratch the back of her neck.

"Not yet," Leah said, narrowing her eyes as she scanned the road, "Is it that road sign we just passed?"

"Nope! You know, you're both terrible at this!" You teased, leaning back with a triumphant grin.

"Alright, what is it?" Leah finally asked.

You grinned mischievously, glancing between the two of them, "It's Leah's face when she's mad!" You exclaimed, dissolving into giggles.

Jordan burst into laughter, clapping her hands on the steering wheel while Leah groaned, shaking her head, though a small smile tugged at her lips despite her mock glare.

"You are such a little Menace sometimes, you know that?" Leah said, her tone affectionate even as she rolled her eyes.

“We’re here! Finally!” You exclaimed, eager to escape the confines of the car.

“Finally! I don’t think I could handle anymore of your complaining,” Jordan quipped, turning off the ignition.

“Cheer up, grumpy. It’s Christmas!” Leah chuckled, undoing her seatbelt with practiced ease.

“Yeah, Jord, cheer up. It’s Christmas!” You echoed Leah’s words, grinning mischievously.

“Ha ha, very funny. I’ll give you ‘cheer up’” Jordan retorted with mock indignation as she climbed out of the car, “Looks like your mum’s already waiting at the door. How about you get Buddy out, and Monkey and I will grab the presents?”

“Sure,” Leah replied easily, moving to unbuckle Buddy.

You, however, scrunched up your nose, “Do I have to?” You groaned.

“Come on, there’s not a lot,” Jordan nudged you lightly with her elbow as she walked around to the boot, “I promise I won’t make you carry the heavy ones.”

“Fine,” You muttered, taking the smaller gift bag Jordan handed you.

“Merry Christmas!” Amanda’s cheerful voice greeted from where she stood on the doorstep, waiting to welcome you all inside.

“Hi, Mum!” Leah waved as she lifted Buddy out of her car seat, expertly balancing her on hip while shutting the door, “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” Jordan shouted back in response.

“Oh, there’s Nana’s little princess!” Amanda cooed, her attention immediately on Buddy, “Merry Christmas, sweet girl.”

Leah faintly smiled, “She’s been a bit fussy this morning, and she hasn’t napped at all.”

“Oh, is that so?” Amanda frowned, her arms outstretched, “Are we being fussy for your Mummies, hm?” She scooped Buddy into her embrace, cradling with her with practiced ease.

“Just a little bit,” Jordan chuckled, catching up to her with the presents in hand.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Amanda greeted you, readjusting Buddy her arms so she could envelope you in a warm hug.

You smiled slightly in response, “Hi. Merry Christmas.” You greeted, though, you were still feeling a bit reserved and shy despite the festivities.

“Are they here yet? Are they here yet?” A voice boomed from inside the house as Jacob bolted down the stairs. His excitement was palpable as he skidded to a stop, “You’re here!” He exclaimed.

“Hi, J. Merry Christmas!” Leah greeted her younger brother, but his attention was entirely on you.

“Monkey!” Jacob yelled.

“Jacob!” You parroted with equal enthusiasm, your shyness now completely revoked.

Leah gave her brother an exaggerated look of mock hurt, “Wow. Just forget I exist, huh?”

“Best friend already,” Jordan chimed in, amusedly.

“Come check out the new Xbox game I got for Christmas! You have to see it” Jacob tugged at your arm, his excitement infectious.

You hesitated, the sudden attention making you flinch slightly, “Uh… Can I?” You turned to ask Leah and Jordan.

Leah nodded warmly, “Go ahead, Jacob seems itching to show you it.”

“Dinner’s not for a while yet,” Amanda piped in.

“Come on!” Jacob insisted as he practically dragged you toward the stairs, “Wait until you see it!” He called over his shoulder, practically vibrating with excitement..

Amanda chuckled as she watched you disappear upstairs, “They seem to be getting along already.”

“Like two peas in a pod,” Jordan agreed, settling down the presents in the hallway.

David appeared in a festive jumper, his face lighting up when he saw Leah, Jordan and Buddy, “I thought I heard familiar voices,” He teased, pulling Leah into a hug first, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Dad,” Leah smiled, returning the hug with the older man, “I love your jumper. Is that a Christmas gift from Mum?” She teased.

“Oh yes, your Mum brought it for me,” David chuckled, moving to exchange a hug with Jordan, “Hi, Jord. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, David,” Jordan replied, grinning.

David’s attention shifted to Buddy, “And here’s our little angel!” He cooed, tickling her sock-clad feet, “What’s with that frown?” He wondered, noticing the grumpy expression the 8 month old currently had on her face.

“She’s grumpy, I think she’s had too much excitement already,” Leah explained, amusedly.

“Oh I see,” David chuckled, reaching out to take Buddy from Amanda, “You want to come to Grandad for a cuddle? Oh, come here–  Are you having a good Christmas?” He cooed to the little girl in his arms.

“Yeah, we’ve tried to eat all of the wrapping paper of the presents this morning, haven’t we?” Leah cooed, gently stroking Buddy’s cheek, “I honestly think we’d have saved money just by giving her that.” She joked.

Amanda chuckled, shaking her head as they all headed further inside the house, “So, how’s it been so far?”

“Yeah, it’s been okay. We opened presents this morning, I think Monkey was a bit overwhelmed with the amount there was,” Leah began to explain in a gentle tone of voice, “But I think she’s liking it so far.”

“That’s good then,” Amanda smiled brightly, “Did she like the hoodie that we brought her, and everything else?” She asked.

“Oh, yeah. She loved it!”Leah replied, nodding in agreement, “She’s obsessed with Shrek so it was perfect!” She added.

Jordan chuckled, “You should have seen her face, it was a picture.”

“And how’s little miss been?” Amanda wondered, gesturing to Buddy, who was wriggling in David’s arms and eager to be close to the tree, “Did she enjoy opening her presents?”

“Oh, I think she was more interested in the wrapping paper than her actual presents,” Leah joked.

David laughed in amusement, “Well that’s to be expected of course at her age.”

"Yeah, she's obsessed with anything that she can grab and put in her mouth at this point,” Jordan retorted as she began to take her coat off, “The baubles and the lights on the tree haven't stood a chance.”

"Still trying to eat everything, huh? She's just like Leah when she was that age. Couldn't leave anything alone," David quipped, shooting a playful grin at Leah.

Jordan smirked, "That explains a lot."

Leah shot Jordan a look of outrage as she took her coat off and hung it up on the coat rack just as Amanda chimed in, "Your Grandma will be arriving shortly. I think she's looking forward to seeing both of the girls again."

Just then, Jacob's voice echoed from up the stairs, "Monkey has just beaten my high score!"

You couldn’t resist a cheeky reply, “Can’t help it if you’re a sore loser!” Your playful tone earned a round of laughter from the adults in the room.

“Well it sounds like those two are having fun at least,” Amanda remarked with a smile.

Leah turned her attention to Buddy, who was starting to squirm and whine in David’s arms, “Oh what’s the matter, bubba?” She cooed, gently taking the 8 month old back from the man.

“I think somebody’s a bit fussy and wants their mummy,” David cooed.

Leah kissed the top of Buddy’s head, bouncing her lightly, “Come here, bubba. You’re tired, aren’t you? There’s just so much excitement going on today, isn’t there? Everyone’s coming round to see you!”

Just then, the doorbell rang.

“Oh, that’ll be your Grandma arriving I think– Or maybe someone else,” Amanda said, heading toward the hall.

“I’ll go and answer it,” Leah shifted Buddy slightly in her arms, “Shall we go see who’s at the door, bubba? I wonder who it could be,” She murmured softly as she approached the door.

Opening it, Leah smiled warmly, “Oh look, it’s Grandma Berny!” She exclaimed, her voice tinged with excitement. Adjusting Buddy to free one arm, she leaned in to hug Berny, “Hi Grandma, Merry Christmas!”

“Hello, love,” Berny greeted, wrapping Leah in a warm hug before turning her attention to Buddy, “And if it isn’t Grandma’s little Christmas pudding! Oh, don’t you look absolutely adorable?” She cooed, gesturing to the outfit Buddy currently had on.

Leah smiled and offered Buddy to Berny, “You want to go to Grandma for a cuddle?”

“Oh, come here, darling,” Berny cooed, taking Buddy into her arms.

Leah glanced at the bags Berny carried, “Do you want me to take anything for you?” She wondered.

“Oh, if you could, thanks love,” Berny replied warmly, shifting Buddy slightly to give her a better grip. She turned her attention to the baby in her arms and smiled, “Are you having a good Christmas, darling? I bet your Mummies have spoiled you absolutely rotten, haven’t they?”

Leah chucked, her eyes full of affection as she watched the two, “She has been spoiled. They both have,” She admitted with a proud smile.

“I don’t doubt that for a second. Where is Monkey?” Berny asked curiously.

“She’s upstairs with Jacob playing on the Xbox,” Leah replied with a small smile.

“Oh I see,” Berny chuckled, knowingly, “Did she like her presents I bought her? Your mum mentioned you’d be opening them at home before you came over.”

"Yeah we figured it would be easier to do it all in one place to save Monkey feeling too overwhelmed, because this is all just so new to her. But she really did love all of her presents," Leah said warmly.

"I'm sure she did,” Berny said reassuringly, “She'll get used to it in no time, love. It'll just take a bit of time, won't it?"

Leah’s smile faltered, “Yeah, I hope so. It just makes me so sad that she's never gotten to experience this all before, you know?"

Berny nodded, her expression softening, “I know, love. But there are still so many years to make up for it.”

"Few years to make up for what?" Jordan’s voice chimed in as she entered the room/

"Hiya, Jord. Merry Christmas!" Berny greeted her warmly.

"Merry Christmas, Berny!" Jordan replied with a smile.

"I was just filling Grandma in on how this morning went with the girls opening their presents," Leah explained.

Jordan sighed lightly, “Oh yeah, I think it was a bit much for her.”

Leah’s jaw tightened, her frustration bubbling to the surface, “It just makes me sad that Monkey never properly experienced this all before, all because of that waste of space.” She said bitterly.

Jordan placed a gentle hand on Leah’s arm, “Careful, Le, she might hear you.”

“I just don’t get it,” Leah continued, her voice low but firm, “That man, honestly! He’s… He’s treated her horribly in the past. You can tell by the way she reacts sometimes.”

“I know, love,” Berny interjected softly, “But she’s a part of this family now, and we’re going to make it the best for her. I know you’re angry, but holding onto that won’t help anything now, will it?”

Leah exhaled deeply, nodding, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right there,”

“Exactly,” Berny said firmly, “Now, I need to go and say hello to your mum and dad. Has anyone else arrived yet?”

“No, you’re the first. But I don’t think they’ll be long,” Leah replied.

From upstairs, you couldn’t help but call out, “Jacob’s crying because he’s a sore loser!”

“I am not!” Jacob’s voice protested indignantly and loud enough to carry through the house.

“Oh, that sounds like trouble,” Leah muttered, wincing at the sheer volume of your teasing, “That’s my cue to go sort it out.”

“I think I’ll join you in the living room,” Jordan chuckled as she followed Berny back into the other room, “Good luck with that one, Le.”

You smirked as Leah’s footsteps approached, “What’s going on up here then?” She asked, stepping into the room.

“Jacob’s crying about the fact he’s losing his game,” You replied with a mischievous snicker, thoroughly amused by his sulking.

“I am not!” Jacob fired back, his cheeks flushing, “All I’m saying is–”

“All he’s saying is that he’s a complete sore loser who can’t handle it,” You interrupted with a cheeky grin.

“No, I’m not!” Jacob protested.

“Yeah, right,” You quipped, smirking at the lad.

Leah rolled her eyes playfully, “Alright, alright. It sounds like this arguing isn’t getting either of you anywhere. Grandma’s arrived if you want to come and say hello.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, glancing at Jacob with a smirk, “To be continued…”

“To be continued,” Jacob grumbled in response, clearly not over the teasing.

As you followed Leah out of the room, she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze softening, “What’s he like, eh? Honestly, such a big kid sometimes. You wouldn’t believe he’s 19,” She joked, noting your distant change of behaviour, “Hey, you alright? You’re very quiet all of the sudden.”

“I’m okay,” You murmured, keeping your voice steady.

“Are you sure?” Leah pressed gently, stopping to look at you properly, “Listen, I know today might feel like a lot for you, and it’s okay if it is.”

“I’m alright, I promise,” You assured her, even though your chest felt a little tight.

Leah nodded, but didn’t move just yet, “Alright, well, if it gets too much then you’ll let either me and Jord know, yeah?”

“I will,” You said, your voice soft.

“Good,” Leah said, a small smile tugging at her lips, “Okay good. We just want you to have the best Christmas this year, Monkey.”

“I’m okay,” You hesitated for a moment before speaking, “I’m enjoying the day… It’s just… Well, it’s a lot. I’ve never gotten anything like this before, and now with all of your family… I’ve just never gotten to experience anything like it.”

Leah crouched slightly to meet your gaze, “I can understand it’s a bit overwhelming for you, my girl.” She said softly.

“A little,” You admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up, “But I’m grateful! It’s just… I didn’t expect to get so many presents. I’m just still trying to wrap my head around it.”

Leah’s expression softened even more as she gave your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, “You’re a part of this family now, Monkey, and you are so loved, my girl,” Her voice remained soft but steady, “You don’t have to try and wrap your head around it all at once. This is new, I know, but you deserve all of it, okay? Every single present, every cuddle and every once of love.”

You blinked, your throat tightening as her words sank in, “Thanks Le.” You managed to give her a small smile.

“That’s my girl,” Leah said, grinning as she pulled you into a warm hug, “Now, come on, let’s head down and see Grandma before she starts wondering where we’ve disappeared to.”

You followed Leah down the stairs, her hand still lightly on your back, grounding you. The warmth of the living room enveloped you as you entered, the hum of chatter, laughter, and the gentle crack of the fireplace filling the space.

“There she is,” Berny exclaimed, spotting you standing beside Leah, “Hello dear! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Berny,” You murmured shyly, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

Amanda approached with a cup of tea for Berny, grinning as she glanced at you, “See, Mum? She’s fitting right in, isn’t she?”

“Of course she is!” Berny declared, beaming at you, “This family wouldn’t be the same without her now, would it?”

Leah flopped onto the sofa beside Jordan, while Buddy was nestled against her chest peacefully asleep, “I told you, Monkey. You’re stuck with us forever.”

“Forever,” Jordan echoed with a wink.

“I’m glad to be here,” You couldn’t help but smile a little wider, the overwhelming sensation from earlier ebbing away as you settled amongst the warmth of Leah’s family.

"Oh, I'm so full from Turkey. I don't think I could eat anymore," Jacob complained, slumping down in his seat.

"I'll second you on that one," Ben replied in agreement.

"Oh right, well in that case then, I guess it's more pudding for the rest of us!" Amanda joked, knowing it would spark a reaction.

"Pudding? I always have room for that!" Jacob exclaimed, sitting upright in his chair again.

The conversation continued as you glanced around the room. Here you were, sitting at the large table with Leah's family -- her mum's side at least. You donned an emerald paper hat on the top of your head, the result of winning a Christmas cracker earlier. The joke you pulled out with it had been painfully cringeworthy, yet it still made you giggle. In your hands was a small whistle you'd been blowing occasionally, much to Leah's annoyance. She had already shot you several pointed looks, though the little smirk on her lips betrayed her amusement.

"What's so special  about this pudding anyway?" You asked, leaning closer to Jacob and Ben.

"It's not about the pudding, Monks'," Jacob replied, declaring his own nickname he’d given you for himself, "It's about the tradition. And the custard. Lot's of custard."

"Don't forget the brandy sauce," Ben added with a grin.

"You lot had better save some for the rest of us!" Holly called from the other end of the table.

"What time is the Queen's speech on? We can't miss that!" One of Leah's Aunts questioned, you were a bit unclear on their name though since there was so many of them.

"Oh, it's about to start-- quick, somebody find the remote!" Amanda exclaimed, her sudden urgency making you jump slightly.

"Has anyone seen it?" Leah asked, standing up to help look.

"Found it!" David called, holding the remote up triumphantly.

If there's one thing you had learnt about today, it was that Leah's family was very patriotich when it came to anything to do with the royal family, as they all clustered around the TV.

Buddy, who had just woken up from her nap, was wide awake and wiggling around on her playmat that had been set down on the floor.

At least yourself, Jacob and Ben didn't seem too bothered about the speech though.

"What was so special about a speech from the Queen?" You whispered to Jacob, curious to know what had everyone so hooked.

"It's another tradition," Jacob replied, "Though it's a bit boring, really, if you ask me."

"It definitely is," Ben agreed, clearly unimpressed.

"Shush! It's starting!" Holly hissed, glaring at the three of you.

"Geesh, so serious," Jacob joked, winding his cousin up.

Ben snorted, leaning over to you, "She's always like this when the Queen's speech comes on. One year, she even shushed the dog."

"I heard that!" Holly said sharply, throwing a napkin in Ben's direction.

"Shush, you three," Leah chimed in, sending you a pointed look, but you couldn't help but giggle even more.

The speech began, and the room fell into a respectful silence-- well mostly. Buddy didn't want to be quiet, with her tiny fits and infectious giggles, and seemed completely uninterested in the royal tradition. She was quite happy to babble, grabbing her toys that you and Jacob waved in front of her.

"She's got the right idea," Ben joked, laughing softly as Buddy squealed in delight, "It's boring ain't it, little miss?"

Amanda shushed everyone, but you couldn't help but smile as Buddy wiggled happily, oblivious to the importance of the moment.

"Is it over yet?" You whispered to Jordan, who chuckled in amusement and wrapped her free arm around your shoulder, "How long does this thing go on for?"

"It's almost over, little one," Jordan replied in a hushed tone of voice.

You were most relieved when the speech ended, as Berny turned to the group and sighed contently, "That was lovely, as always. A nice way to reflect on the year."

"Reflect on how I've still never made it through the whole thing awake," Jacob muttered in response.

"Alright, who's ready for dessert, then?" Amanda asked, standing up, "We've got Christmas pudding, mince pies, yule log, and Ben's favourite-- trifle."

"Trifle? I've got room for trifle!" Jacob declared, already heading toward the kitchen.

"Of course, you do," Leah muttered, rolling her eyes.

Amanda caught your eye and smiled warmly, "Do you want to help me serve, sweetheart?"

"Uhm, sure," You replied with a slight bit of hesitance, standing to follow her.

As you helped bring out the desserts, Amanda leaned in closer, "How are you enjoying the day? It's so lovely to have you here with us, you know."

"Thank you," You said, a bit shyly, "It's been nice. It's different from what I'm used to, but still good."

"I'm glad," Amanda said gently, "I know change can be difficult sometimes, but Leah and Jordan, I know they think the world of you. They're so proud of how far you've come."

You felt a lump in your throat at her kind words, "I'm really grateful for them, and for being here with you all, too... And, thank you for my presents. I didn't expect anything, I love my Shrek hoodie."

"You're welcome, sweetheart. We're the lucky ones to have you as part of this family now," Amanda moved her free arm around to give you a side hug, "Now, let's get this dessert out before Jacob starts to raid the fridge now, eh?"

The evening continued with more laughter and chatter as the pudding was served. Buddy sat in her high chair, clapping her hands excitedly as Leah fed her small spoonfuls of custard.

"You're going to spoil her," Jordan teased, watching Leah's doting behaviour.

"She's just enjoying Christmas, aren't you, bubba?" Leah cooed, pressing a kiss to Buddy's cheek.

As the evening began to wound down, you found yourself nestled on the sofa in between Leah and Jordan as the family gathered for a raucous game of charades.

"No, that's cheating-- You can't do that!" Leah shot out in protest.

Ben chuckled, "Why not? It's not in the rules!"

"Yes it is," Leah fired back, her competitive streak showing.

"No it's not," Ben scoffed, "Someone? Help us out here..." He looked to the rest of the family for their help.

Holly glanced over the rules briefly on her phone after a quick Google search, "He's right, Le. It's not in the rules that he can't." She added, sticking up for her younger brother.

"Since when?" Leah muttered in disbelief, arching an eyebrow.

"Since always if you read the rules," Ben quipped, smirking.

"Outrageous that is!" Leah scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, before it was time to take her turn.

"You call that a gorilla? It looks more like a constipated penguin," Jacob teased as Leah flailed her arms around.

Leah took the chance to throw a cushion at him, "You couldn't even guess 'Kangaroo' so you can't talk!"

You were starting to feel yourself growing tired, opting to rest your head on Jordan's shoulder, "You doing alright, little one? I know it's been a big day."

"M' okay,"  You replied quietly in agreement, not wanting to stir too much attention to yourself, "It's been the best Christmas I've ever had." You added, wrapping your free arm around her.

Jordan smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, "Good, you deserve it, Monkey."

You couldn't help but faintly smile, watching in amusement at the bickering between Leah and Jacob still about the game as your eyelids started to become heavier.

"I think it's time to call it a night," David retorted, motioning to the way you were practically almost falling asleep, "Monkey's falling asleep."

"M' not tired," You protested against the idea, but the way you couldn't keep your eyes open spoke for a lot of things.

Leah turned her attention away from the competitive game, her lips quirking into a knowing smile, "I think you might be right there, Dad," She agreed, taking a glance at the clock, "Alright, time for bed."

You would be spending the night in Leah's childhood home, so at least you didn't have to travel back to London tonight, considering Leah and Jordan had both had a bit to drink and neither of them could drive under the circumstances.

You groaned softly at the suggestion, not thrilled with the idea of leaving the comforting warmth of Jordan's shoulder, "M' not tired." You mumbled again,  though the sleepy slur in your voice gave you away completely.

Jordan chuckled, gently nudging you upright, "You can keep saying that, but your heavy eyes are telling us a different story, little one."

Buddy, meanwhile, was still awake, babbling happily on Amanda's lap, her tiny hands reaching for Amanda's face as she giggled, "I think this one's trying to pull an all-nighter," She joked, bouncing Buddy lightly.

Leah smiled as she approached, effortlessly scooping Buddy into her arms, "Oh, no, missy," She cooed, "It's bedtime, isn't it, bubba?" However, Buddy responded with delighted squeals, clearly not in agreement.

"Come on, little one," Jordan said, standing up from the sofa as she reached out to help you up, her strong arms steadying you as you wobbled slightly.

You sighed, reluctantly letting her guide you towards the stairs, "But it's still Christmas," You murmured, glancing back at the warm inviting living room and the game still going on.

"And Christmas will still be here tomorrow morning," Leah reminded you with a gentle smile as she followed, Buddy snuggled in her arms, "You're exhausted, you need to sleep, my girl, so you can wake up tomorrow and enjoy Boxing Day fun."

Jordan led you up the stairs, her hand warm and reassuring on your back, "Besides," She said with a smile, "We can't have our Monkey turning into a zombie tomorrow, now, can we?"

You mumbled a small protest, but it was half-hearted at best. The truth was, you were far too tired to argue properly. Each step you took up the stairs felt heavier, and the idea of the comfy bed was becoming more and more appealing.

Leah trailed behind with Buddy, who was still wide-eyed and squirming with excitement, "This one's determined to stay awake," She said with a small laugh, pressing a kiss to Buddy's cheek, "It's time to sleep now, bubba. Something tells me we're in for a bit of a challenge with the baby."

Once upstairs, you managed to change into your pyjamas with some help from Jordan, the soft fabric instantly adding to your comfort. You climbed under the warm duvet, letting out a small sigh as you nestled into the cozy bed.

"Are you comfy?" Jordan asked, leaning down to flick on the bedside lamp.

"Mhm," You murmured sleepily, clutching your stuffed animal close.

"Good," Jordan replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, "Good, I'm glad. Get some rest, little one."

Leah peeked into the room a moment later, Buddy now resting her hand on Leah's shoulder in a cozy onesie, her eyes beginning to flutter closed, "All sorted in here?" She asked softly, her gaze warm as she took in the sight of you snuggled up.

"Le... Are all these football shirts yours?" You asked, your curiosity slipping through your sleepiness as your gaze wandered around Leah's childhood bedroom. The walls were adorned with Arsenal and England shirts, each marking a moment in her career.

Leah chuckled, stepping further into her old bedroom, "They are," She said proudly, "Hopefully more to come." She passed Buddy to Jordan for a moment, leaning down to tuck you in properly under the duvet, "Sweet dreams, my girl. We'll see you in the morning."

"Night, Le. Night, Jord," You mumbled, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

"Goodnight, Monkey," Jordan whispered as she turned off the bedside lamp, her voice soothing in the quiet.

Leah lingered for a moment longer, gently adjusting the covers before adding, "We love you."

Just as they turned to leave, you spoke up, your voice small and soft, "Le? Jord?"

They both paused in the doorway, "Yeah?"

"Thank you... For the best Christmas," Your mumbled, half asleep as you could barely keep your eyes open any longer.

Leah's smile widened, her heart swelling at your words, "You're welcome, my girl." She said warmly.

With Buddy now dozing in her arms, Leah glanced at Jordan as they left her childhood bedroom, "Boxing Day's going to be chaos, isn't it?"

Jordan chuckled quietly, nodding, "Absolute chaos, but that's what will make it fun."

jordannobbs posted

liked by bethmead_ and 1,106 others

jordannobbs nothing better than the magic of christmas time and spending it with the ones' closest to you🎅🏼🎄✨

a day full of excitement for both the girls who have been absolutely spoilt rotten. now all tucked up in bed and ready to do it all again tomorrow! 🤭

merry christmas to you all, from the williamson-nobbs family x

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leahwilliamsonn our two girls 🥹 they really have had the best first christmas 💗

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katie_mccabe11 merry christmas!! hope the girls have a had a great day x

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bethmead_ oh buddy's little face with her santa hat on! 🎅🏼❤️

view 10 replies liked by 22 others

jenbeattie merry christmas girls! is monkey still terrified of the man in red and white? 🤣

view 3 replies liked by 19 others

stephcatley spoilt girlies. we love you so much 🥹💗

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© scribblesofagoonerr

[rhiannonsknife]

perhaps a scenario where jackie is so overwhelmed by her loneliness on a particularly bad night that she seeks us out for once.

maybe it’s the first time she’s came to us for more than just sex. she just needs a break from the world and the only one she feels that understands is us, no matter how much she wants to pretend we don’t.

she doesn’t go too deep into her feelings because jackie taylor would rather die than be honest about herself, but we at least get to see a more vulnerable side of her for more than a split second.

(also jackie taylor who yearns to be touched in a way that’s out of love rather than lust. jeff touches her all the time but never in the way she wants! he’s always sexual, always defensive over her, always pushing for more. his touch feels more violating and constricting than loving.)

- 🦔

hurt/comfort in the secretly hooking up with jackie taylor universe?? can you believe it??

jackie taylor showing up at your door in the middle of the night is not something you’re used to. not like this, anyway. normally, it’s you sneaking into her bedroom after a party, or sneaking out of it again when she has decided that she’s had enough. it’s her waiting in her car at the end of your driveway, the both of you chasing something thrilling, that neither of you should be doing at all.

tonight is different.

tonight, when jackie knocks, it is soft, hesitant. when you open the door, she stands before you in an oversized sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to her, with her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

her makeup is smeared, and her usual perfectly curated image is cracked.

“jackie?” you say, your voice still groggy from the sleep she’s interrupted. “what are you doing here?”

she doesn’t answer immediately, her eyes darting past you like she’s scanning the hall for someone watching. when she finally meets your gaze again, she asks: “can i come in?”

you step aside without hesitation, closing the door behind jackie as she moves past you. she doesn’t take a seat, doesn’t remove her shoes. instead, she lingers awkwardly in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

“i just-“ jackie stops herself, biting her lip like she’s regretting coming here out of all places. “i needed to get out of there”

“out of where?”

“the house. away from jeff. from everyone. it’s just…too much”

you take a careful step closer. “jackie, what’s going on?”

her jaw tightens, and she looks away, her chin trembling slightly. “it’s nothing, okay?” she says quickly. “i don’t know why i came here!”

you do know why. even if she won’t say it, even if she’ll fight it with all that she’s got. jackie has always been good at wearing masks, at pretending she’s got it all figured out. tonight, she’s raw, exposed in a way she probably hates. and instead of running to jeff or shauna, she came to you.

“jackie,” you say again, taking another step closer. “you don’t have to explain. just…sit down, okay? you don’t have to be anywhere else right now”

she hesitates, still not looking at you, but eventually she sits on the edge of your couch, her posture stiff, like she doesn’t know how to let herself relax. you sit beside her, careful to give her space but close enough that she can feel you there.

for a while, neither of you speaks.

then, slowly, as you give jackie the time she needed, her shoulders slump, the tension seeping out of her frame. she leans back against the couch, her head falling to rest on your shoulder. when you move your hand to hers, gently lacing your fingers together, she doesn’t pull away. jackie exhales a shaky breath, her thumb brushing against yours in slow circles.

“you’re different,” she murmurs after a while. “you don’t…want anything from me”

“what do you mean?”

jackie closes her eyes, her face pinched like she’s warring with herself. “with jeff, with…everyone, it’s always about them. what i can give them. what they need me to be…” her voice cracks, and she pulls her hand away, gripping her knees instead. “with you…it’s different. you don’t push. you just-“ she stops, shaking her head as if saying any more might break her.

you reach out again, resting a hand gently on her knee. “jackie,” you say softly. “you don’t have to be anything for me. i just…i want you to feel okay. that’s all.”

“do you mean that?” she asks quietly.

“of course i do,” you tell her, your voice steady. ypu won’t let this chance to prove yourself to her slide. “you don’t have to pretend with me, jackie. not tonight”

or ever, you want to say, but you don’t want to scare jackie off.

her breathing hitches anyway. she doesn’t cry, not yet, but you can tell she’s close to the edge of a breakdown she’s too proud to let you see.

she avoids your gaze as she tries to keep it together. “this is so stupid,” she mutters, her voice barely above a whisper. “i’m fine, okay? just- just forget it”

you couldn’t ‘forget it’ if you tried.

“come here,” you say gently, brushing your thumb over her knuckles.

jackie hesitates, her brows knitting together. “what?”

“come here,” you repeat, softer this time, tugging her hand lightly. “let’s just…lay down for a bit. you don’t have to talk. just let me hold you, okay?”

her face twists, expression caught somewhere between defiance and embarrassment. “i don’t need-“ jackie stops, swallowing hard.

“you don’t have to need it,” you tell her, your voice steady but warm. “just let me do it anyway”

there’s a long pause where jackie seems to weigh her options. then, finally, she exhales, a shaky, broken sound that makes your chest ache. she doesn’t say anything as she nods, just barely, but it’s enough for you to guide her gently to the couch, lying down first and opening your arms for her.

for a second, she lays unmoving before she curls into your side, her head resting against your chest. as you run a soothing hand down her back, the tension slowly begins to ebb away.

“this is…” jackie starts, her voice muffled against your shirt. she trails off, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. “i don’t know how to do this,” she admits after a moment, so quietly you almost don’t hear her.

“do what?” you ask softly, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on her shoulder blade.

“this,” she repeats, gesturing vaguely. “just…being close to someone like this. without it meaning something else”

it’s not hard to imagine what she means; jeff, with his hands always possessive, always wanting more. people who only ever see her as a trophy, as something to take rather than someone to cherish. time and time again, the fact that you could be somebody to do better for her has broken you. now, for the first time, a part of her had known that. the part that made her show up to your doorstep in the middle of the night.

“you’re doing fine,” you tell her, pressing a light kiss to the crown of her head.

as the minutes pass, jackie’s breathing evens out, the rise and fall of her chest syncing with your own. you keep your arms around her, your hand stroking her back in a steady rhythm until your hand grows too heavy to move it, until your lashes flutter shut. the quiet comfort of her warmth against you lulls you into a sleep you didn’t even realize you needed. the first sleep with jackie to your chest.

when you wake up, the sunlight is streaming softly through the curtains. you blink groggily, your fingers searching for the warmth of jackie’s body on the couch cushion by your side. that’s when you realize she’s gone.

the space beside you on the couch is empty, but the blanket draped over your shoulders wasn’t there before. you sit up slowly, the ache of disappointment impossible to ignore, but then your eyes catch something on the coffee table.

a note.

it’s written on the back of an old receipt, the ink smudged slightly at the edges, but the handwriting unmistakably jackie’s.

i’m sorry i left early. i didn’t want to wake you. thanks for last night. for everything. - j

at the bottom, there’s a tiny heart drawn hastily next to her initials. it’s small, almost insignificant, but it makes your chest ache in the way only jackie taylor ever could.

it’s not a grand gesture or a declaration of love. it’s subtle, restrained. so jackie. still, it’s enough. it’s a reminder that even if she keeps running, even if she never fully lets you in, she sees you. jackie needs you, in her own way, even if she’s too scared to say it outright.

you set the note down gently, brushing your fingers over the paper. for one fleeting night, she let herself be real with you. for one night, she couldn’t hide how much she wants to be loved.

the hope that maybe, one of these nights, she’ll stop running altogether, is exactly why you stay.

[xotyla]

pairing: lee heeseung x fem!reader word count: 15k genre: no smut, heavy angst, fluff towards the end warnings: it’s dark, abuse, stalking, toxic relationship, manipulation, the reader is mentally unstable, plot twists, heeseung has a weak spot for the reader, the reader's name is iseul, violence, and overall it’s just dark, so read at your own discretion. synopsis: a girl who's out of her mind and heeseung, who's in love and down bad for her but needs help. tyla's notes: in the beginning, i was going to add smut but decided not to because i wanted this to have HEAVY angst. if you guys want a part two because heeseung does do something unexpected, i can make one; just let me know, but enjoy and soon I'll be doing a permanent tag list!

Lee Heeseung and Iseul met through their mutual close friend, Jungwon, during a small gathering at Jungwon’s apartment. Iseul, who had just moved to the city, caught Heeseung’s attention immediately with her striking confidence and wit. 

Iseul was not the type to blend into the background; her fiery personality demanded attention, and she seemed to have some sort of mysterious allure that left people curious yet cautious to approach. Though she often kept people at arm’s length, Heeseung’s kind and genuine nature intrigued her.

The connection between them sparked instantly, and Jungwon couldn’t help but play matchmaker, knowing that Heeseung’s gentleness just might be what Iseul needed to soften her edges.

Heeseung was the kind of man women often gravitated toward. His soft-spoken charm and genuine warmth made him irresistible, but they also made him a great target for manipulation. Heeseung had a history of giving too much and asking too little in return, often leaving him burned by those who saw his kindness as weakness.

Despite his past experiences, Heeseung maintained his faith in people. When he met Iseul, her possessiveness initially felt comforting—a stark contrast to the way others had treated him. But as their relationship deepened into something more than just friends and into something real, Heeseung realized that her intensity could be overwhelming, especially when she felt threatened.

Iseul’s possessiveness stemmed from a deep-seated fear of losing the people she cared about. She’d had her own share of heartbreaks, and when she found someone as pure-hearted as Heeseung, she clung tightly. Her jealousy often caused scenes, especially when other women approached him. 

At a party one evening, Iseul spotted a woman laughing a little too closely with Heeseung. Without hesitation, she stormed across the room, her voice sharp as she confronted the woman. 

The room fell silent as Iseul’s words sliced through the air, and though Heeseung tried to diffuse the situation, the tension lingered. “I’m not going to let anyone take you from me,” Iseul whispered to him afterward, her eyes filled with both fear and assurance in an odd way. 

Heeseung, though visibly uncomfortable with Iseul’s outbursts, couldn’t bring himself to push her away. He saw the vulnerability beneath her sharp exterior and felt a sense of responsibility to protect her, even from herself. 

One night, as they sat on a rooftop overlooking the city, Heeseung gently confronted Iseul about her behavior. “You don’t have to fight for me like that,” he said softly, taking her hand in his. “I’m already yours.” For a moment, Iseul’s defenses crumbled, and she admitted her insecurities. “I just... I can’t love you, Heeseung,” she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. Heeseung’s heart ached as he pulled her into a comforting embrace, promising her he wasn’t going anywhere. 

Despite their passionate connection, their relationship often felt like a tug-of-war. Iseul’s fiery love burned brightly but could instantly spiral into destructive jealousy. Heeseung was struggling to balance his desire to be with her and his own personal need for stability. Their interactions were often intense and filled with tender moments and heated arguments. 

Iseul was in love with Heeseung even if they hadn’t been together for long. She quickly got attached to him and she couldn’t let him go so easily either. She saw him as a person but also as someone who was her property and she couldn’t let anyone take what she owned away from her. 

Heeseung worked as an office worker and his company was having a gathering where the workers could come together and bring along their partners but Heeseung’s biggest mistake was letting Iseul come with.

A female coworker, unaware of Iseul’s reputation as the jealous girlfriend, playfully touched Heeseung’s arm as she laughed at one of his jokes. Iseul’s blood boiled instantly. She could feel herself itching to hurt the woman, wanting to claw her black nails into the female’s skin deep enough to make her bleed and leave marks in her flawless skin forever.

Iseul had thoughts like this a lot. Heeseung made her want to hurt people and she knew it wasn’t healthy but she didn’t care. She had to protect him from women who wanted to take advantage of him and use him for their own personal gain.

Iseul, who was standing a few feet away from them, let her feet make their way over to the pair. Her jaw tightened as she got closer, her eyes darkening, looking cold and distant. “You think it’s funny, don’t you?” she spat at the women, her voice dripping with venom. The coworker stammered, confused, but Iseul could care less.

“Get your filthy hands off what’s mine.” She grabbed Heeseung’s wrist and yanked him outside before he could protest. 

Heeseung was embarrassed. He knew bringing Iseul was a bad idea from the start but he knew she’d have something to say if he didn’t bring her. He also knew that his coworkers would be talking about this until God knows when. Talking about how he lets his girlfriend boss him around like he’s the woman in the relationship or how she’s jealous, probably due to insecurity.

Heeseung didn’t have anything to say to Iseul. He honestly didn’t have any words, just letting her call a cab for them and drive them to the apartment they shared together, staying quiet the entire ride home. 

As they entered inside the apartment, the second the door closed, Iseul pinned him against it, her voice low and menacing. “You’re mine, Heeseung. I hate having to remind you.” She pulled him into a bruising kiss. Heeseung didn’t fight back whatsoever. He kissed her back because even though he was embarrassed and terrified, he was also thrilled in a sick way.  

Oh, and it didn’t stop there. 

Iseul’s jealousy reached a fever pitch at a nightclub. Heeseung, as usual, had attracted attention just by being his kind and approachable self but also by being a good-looking guy. A woman at the bar kept making excuses to talk to him, even brushing her hand against his. Iseul, watching from a distance, snapped. She stormed over, grabbing the woman’s drink from her hand and throwing it in her face. “He’s not available.” Security had to intervene but Iseul didn’t care even as she and Heeseung were practically thrown out of the club.

And as usual, they went home, the car ride silent and when they’d get inside of their apartment, the tension between them erupted into a fiery encounter. Her dominance in the bedroom mirrored her control over their relationship. She demanded everything from Heeseung—his love, loyalty, and complete surrender. And Heeseung, despite knowing how destructive she was, gave in willingly every time. 

Weeks later, after the nightclub situation, Heeseung was invited to a friend’s wedding and of course, he brought Iseul along. Heeseung had already talked with her prior to this event about controlling herself even if it was hard but no, the opposite of controlling herself happened. 

A bridesmaid had been openly flirting with Heeseung throughout the night, and Iseul was visibly seething. When the woman leaned in too close during a group photo, Iseul snapped. She yanked Heeseung away, her voice icy as she addressed the bridesmaid. “I don’t care if this is your best friend’s wedding. Touch him again, and you’ll regret it.” The situation quickly escalated when Iseul, the woman in front of everyone, left the entire wedding party stunned. 

Heeseung tried to calm her down, but Iseul’s rage was unstoppable. “Do you enjoy this? Watching them throw themselves at you? Do you like hurting me?” she screamed at him later that night, tears streaming down her face. This was their daily cycle. 

She would get mad, cause a scene, get kicked out or leave, get a cab, and have a silent car ride, arrive home, and have sex, or Heeseung would try to explain how he felt about the situation even though Iseul would sometimes get pissed and turn his words against him. This was their cycle, a never-ending one.

Despite her unhinged behavior, Heeseung loved her, and he didn’t know how many times he had to say it. He loved Iseul and he knew she did everything out of care for him. He was infatuated, addicted to the intensity of her love. Iseul had a way of making him feel wanted like no one else ever had, even if it came at a cost. 

After each explosive fight, she would pull him close, her touch both possessive and tender. “You belong to me,” she’d whisper, her lips brushing against his neck. And in those moments, Heeseung couldn’t imagine being anywhere else but with her.

But as time went on, Iseul’s control over their relationship became suffocating. She monitored his phone, questioned his every move, and isolated him from his friends. Jungwon even tried to intervene once Heeseung started telling him these things, even having to witness it for himself along with his other friends. 

Let’s take it back three weeks ago.

The air was light and jovial as Heeseung sat around the table with closest friends—Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, Jay, Sunoo, and Niki–reminiscing about old memories. 

The group had gathered at a cozy cafe for a rare chance to catch up, and everyone was high in spirits. Joining them was Minji, Heeseung’s childhood friend, whose bubbly personality and playful demeanor had everyone smiling (except Iseul). She had been reminiscing about their younger days, leaning close to Heeseung as she laughed about their old antics. 

“You remember how I used to always beat you at soccer, Heeseung?” Minji teased, nudging his arm playfully. Her eyes sparkled with nostalgia. “And how you used to blush whenever I called you cute? I swear, you had the biggest crush on me back then!” she added, giggling.

Iseul, seated beside Heeseung, had been unusually quiet during the exchange, her sharp dark brown eyes narrowing as she watched Minji’s hand linger a little too long on his arm. The tension in her posture was palpable, but no one addressed it—until she finally broke her silence. 

“Wow, Minji,” Iseul said, her tone sarcastic. “It’s so cute how you’re stuck in the past. But unfortunately. Heeseung’s moved on. You should too.” The table fell silent as all eyes turned to her. Heeseung’s face turned pale, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Minji blinked, startled. “I–I didn’t mean anything by it,” she stammered, glancing at Heeseung for reassurance, help even. 

“Oh, I’m sure you didn’t.” Iseul replied, her smile as sharp as a knife. “But just so we’re clear, Heeseung doesn’t need to be reminded of some childish crush. He has me now. And trust me, I give him everything he needs.” Her hand moved to Heeseung’s thigh under the table, gripping it possessively.

Jungwon, sensing the growing tension, stepped in. “Iseul, come on, she’s just joking around. Minji and Heeseung are old friends–there’s no harm in reminiscing.” 

Iseul’s gaze snapped at Jungwon, her expression darkening. “Old friends? Is that what you call flirting these days?” she shot back. “If you’re so concerned about my boyfriend, maybe you should focus on being better friends instead of letting random women paw at him.”

Jake leaned forward trying to defuse the situation. “Iseul, that’s not fair. Minji didn’t mean anything by it. She’s always been like this with Heeseung–it’s harmless.”

“Harmless?” Iseul’s laugh was bitter. “You don’t think I see the way she looks at him? The way she touches him? If you all think this okay, then maybe you’re the problem.”

As her voice grew sharper, Heeseung finally spoke, his voice weak. “Iseul, please, it’s not–”

“Shut up, Heeseung,” Iseul interrupted, her words silencing him instantly. She turned her piercing gaze back to Minji. “And you,” she started, “If you ever touch him again, I promise next time it won’t be pretty.”

The table was frozen in awkward silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. Sunghoon opened his mouth to speak, but Jay nudged him, shaking his head. It was clear no one knew how to handle Iseul’s outburst. 

After a moment, Iseul stood, yanking Heeseung’s arm and yanking him up from his seat. “We’re leaving,” she announced coldly, not even sparing the other a glance as she dragged Heeseung out of the cafe.

Once they were gone, the remaining friends exchanged worried looks. “This isn’t normal,” Niki said quietly, his voice filled with concern. “She’s… controlling him.:

Jungwon sighed, rubbing his temples. “I know. But what can we do? Heeseung won’t listen. He’s completely under her thumb.”

“She’s dangerous,” Sunoo murmured, his voice trembling slightly, shaken up from the situation. “We need to find a way to help him before it’s too late.”

Back in Iseul and Heeseung’s car, she gripped onto the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white, as she drove in tense silence. Heeseung sat in the passenger seat, his head bowed in defeat. “Why do you let them disrespect me like that?” she finally asked, her voice cold.

“They’re my friends, Iseul,” he said softly. 

“No,” she snapped, her eyes flashing as she glanced at him. “They’re just people trying to take you away from me. You belong to me, Heeseung. Not them, me.”

And Heeseung, despite everything, could only nod, too tangled in her web of possessive love to fight back.

The rest of the drive back to their apartment was suffocatingly silent. Heeseung sat motionless in the passenger seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred into streaks. Iseul’s jaw was clenched, her hands still gripping the steering wheel tightly as though she were fighting to keep control—not just of the car, but of the entire situation. 

When they finally arrived home, Iseul slammed the door shut behind them and threw her keys onto the counter, spinning around to face Heeseung. Her expression was unreadable, a dangerous mix of fury and desperation. “Do you even understand what you put me through back there?” 

Heeseung, already exhausted from the evening, ran a hand through his black hair and sighed. “I didn’t do anything, Iseul. Minji is just a friend. You overreacted, and now everyone thinks–”

“Thinks what?” Iseul interrupted, her voice rising. She stepped closer to him, her eyes wild. “That I’m the crazy girlfriend? That I’m unreasonable for protecting what’s mine? Don’t you dare try to make me feel like I’m the villain here, Heeseung.”

“You are being unreasonable!” Heeseung snapped back, surprisingly even himself.  “Minji wasn’t doing anything wrong. She’s been my friend for years, and you humiliated her—and me—in front of everyone!”

For a moment, the room was silent. Iseul’s lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at him, her chest rising and falling with each sharp breath. Then she laughed—a low, bitter sound that sent a shiver down Heeseung’s spine. 

“You think this is about her?” she said, her voice trembling. “This is about you. You let her touch you. You let her remind you of some stupid crush, like I don’t even exist. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

“Iseul…” Heeseung started, his voice softening, but she cut him off again. 

“No,” she said, stepping closer until there was barely any space between them. Her hands gripped his shirt, pulling him down to her level. “You don’t get to make any excuses. You’re mine, Heeseung. Mine. And if I have to keep reminding you of that, then I will.”

Her lips crashed against his in a fierce, possessive kiss, leaving no room for hesitation. Heeseung froze, torn between resisting and giving in. His body betrayed him, responding to her intensity even as his mind screamed at him to pull away.

The kiss deepened, and Iseul’s grip on him tightened, her dominance overwhelming. She pushed him against the wall, her nails digging into his arms. “Say it,” she whispered, her breath hot against his ear. “Say you’re mine.” 

Heeseung’s heart pounded in his chest. “I’m yours,” he murmured, the words escaping before he could stop them.

The tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “Good,” she said, her voice softer but not less commanding. When they finally pulled apart, Heeseung slumped against the wall, his head spinning. Iseul stepped back, her expression calm now, almost tender. “I only do this because I love you,” she said quietly, brushing a hand through his hair. “You know that, right?”

Heeseung nodded weakly, unable to meet her gaze. “Yeah. I know.”

But as she walked away, leaving him alone in the dimly lit room, a deep pit of unease settled in his chest. His friends worried faces flashed in his mind, and for the first time, he wondered if they were right.

He was losing himself to her. And the worst part was, he didn’t know if he could ever walk away.

He moved over to the couch, throwing himself on it with his head in his hands, constantly replaying the scene at the cafe and the confrontation in his mind. His friends’ concerned expressions lingered in his thoughts, their unspoken pleas for him to see the truth. But every time he tried to imagine leaving Iseul, his heart twisted painfully. 

In the other room, Iseul sat on the edge of their bed, staring blankly at the floor. Her anger had dissipated, replaced by a gnawing sense of emptiness. She told herself she had done what was necessary to protect their relationship. Yet a small, nagging voice whispered that she was pushing too hard, that she was losing Heeseung even as she clung to him tighter. But instead of addressing her insecurities deeply and openly, she steeled herself, convincing herself that her actions were justified. 

Heeseung’s phone buzzed on the table, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen; it was a message from Jungwon.

Jungwon: Heeseung, are you okay? We’re really worried about you. You don’t have to deal with this alone. Please talk to us.

His chest tightened as he read the message. He wanted to respond, to reach out for help, but fear and guilt paralyzed him. He knew Jungwon and the other only wanted the best for him, but he also knew how furious Iseul would be if she found out he had confided in them. The memory of her sharp words and the fire in her eyes made his fingers hover uncertainly over the keyboard. 

“I see you’re texting someone.”

Iseul’s voice, which sounded so beautiful when she was calm, cut through the quiet like a knife, making Heeseung jump. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked to his phone, and he quickly loved the screen, shoving it into his pocket.

“It’s just Jungwon,” he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. 

Her lips curved up into a small smile, but there was no warmth in it. “Jungwon, huh? Let me guess—he’s telling you I’m a problem, that you need to leave me, right?”

Jungwon and Iseul had been friends for about a year now and he knew all about her relationship but he never knew why they ended or failed but now he could understand why. Iseul always painted others to be the problem while convincing everyone around her that she was a victim. She’s a master manipulator, if you will, and now that Jungwon is seeing what his best friend is going through, he’s definitely regretting trying to play matchmaker. 

“Iseul, no one said that,” Heeseung replied, his voice shaky.

“They don’t have to say it,” she said, still calm, stepping closer to him. “I can see it in their eyes. They think I’m crazy. They think I’m the problem. But you know better, don’t you, Heeseung? You know how much I care about you and want to protect you. You know how much I love you.”

Heeseung looked up at her, his throat tightening. “I know Iseul. I know you love me.”

“Then why do you let them poison your mind against me?” She asked, her voice shaky like his was moments ago. “Do you want to leave me? Is that it? I mean—after everything we’ve been through?”

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. “No, Iseul. I don’t want to leave you.”

She cupped his face in her hands. “I couldn’t handle losing you, Heeseung. I need you.”

Heeseung’s heart ached as he looked into her eyes. He knew she was scared to lose him; he could feel it. He wanted to help her, fix whatever was broken inside her. But deep down, he knew he was breaking down with her.

Later that night, Iseul had finally fallen asleep. The two heading to their bedroom after the conversation she had instantly went to bed once her head rested on his chest. Heeseung lay awake staring at the ceiling. His phone vibrated against the nightstand. Another message from Jungwon. 

Jungwon: You don’t have to reply. Just know we’re here for you whenever you’re ready.

Tears pricked at Heeseung’s eyes as he read the message. He felt trapped between two worlds—the toxic intensity of his relationship with Iseul and the lifeline his friends were trying to offer. 

Now, fast forward three weeks later. 

Heeseung and Iseul were the same as usual but it got worse. She started getting physical with him. She’d throw things at him, like glass objects, even hitting him and he was scared. He hadn’t contacted anyone for those three weeks because she was watching over him like a hawk and for once in his life, he was genuinely scared. 

The once vibrant Heeseung had become a shadow of himself, his days consumed by fear and the suffocating grip of Iseul’s control growing tighter. 

One evening, after another grueling day of being scrutinized, Heeseung sat quietly at the kitchen table, stirring a cup of tea he didn’t even want. Iseul was pacing back and forth, her voice sharp and accusatory as she berated him over something trivial—a stray sock he’d left on the floor.

This was beyond jealousy now; it was over the smallest things. 

“You don’t care about me, do you?” She slammed her against the kitchen table. The loud noises causing him to flinch. “I give you everything, Heeseung, and this is how you repay me? With disrespect?”

“Iseul, it’s just a sock,” he said weakly

Her eyes darkened, and in an instant, she grabbed the mug of tea and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall, tea splattering like a storm of rage. “It’s not about a fucking sock–it’s about you not appreciating me!”

Heeseung’s heart raced as he stood up, his hands shakingly raised defensively. “Iseul, please, calm down. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

But she wasn’t listening. In her fury, she picked up a book from the table and threw it at him. He ducked, the book narrowly missing his head and hitting the floor with a dull thud. She advanced on him, her hand striking his arm hard enough to leave a stinging sensation. 

“You’re pathetic,” her voice filled with anger. “Always trying to make me feel like I’m the problem. Maybe if you weren’t so weak, I wouldn’t have to do this!”

Heeseung didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His mind was screaming at him to leave, to run, but his body wouldn’t move. He was praying that someone would help him. Anyone.

Meanwhile, Jungwon, Jake, and Sunghoon had been growing increasingly worried. They hadn’t heard from Heeseung in weeks, and every attempt to contact him had gone unanswered. Even his social media had gone dark, a glaring red flag that something was wrong.”

“Heeseung's not okay,” Jungwon said firmly during a group meeting at Jake’s apartment. The six of them sat in a tense circle, their faces grim. 

“No shit.” Jay muttered. “The last time we saw him, she dragged him out like a prisoner. He hasn’t even read any of my messages.”

“I say we go to his place and check on him,” Sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “Heeseung might hate us for it, but I don’t care. That girl’s fucking deranged.” 

Niki nodded. “We have to do something. Heeseung’s never been gone for this long without talking to us. What if she’s hurt him?

After a brief discussion, they agreed to visit Heeseung unannounced the following evening. They needed to know if he was okay, even if it meant confronting his crazy girlfriend.

The next night, Heeseung sat in the living room, staring blankly at the TV. Iseul sat beside him. Her arm draped possessively over his shoulders. Every time he shifted, her grip tightened, a silent reminder of her control.

A sudden knock at the door shattered the oppressive quiet. Heeseung stiffened, his eyes darting to Iseul, who immediately rose, her expression hardening. “Stay here,” she commanded, walking toward the door. 

When she opened it, she was met with the sight of Jungwon, Jake, and Sunghoon standing on the threshold. Their faces were a mixture of worry and determination. 

“What are you doing here?” Iseul demanded, blocking the doorway so they couldn’t even get a glimpse of Heeseung.

“We’re here to see Heeseung,” Jungwon said firmly. “Is he home?”

“He’s fine,” she snapped. “You don’t need to see him.”

Jake stepped forward, his tone sharp. “We’re not leaving until we talk to him. Move.”

Iseul’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I said he’s fine. He doesn’t need you interfering in his life.”

At that moment, Heeseung appeared in the hallway, his pale face and hollow eyes shocking his friends. “Guys…” he started, his voice barely audible. 

“Holy shit, Heeseung, you look terrible,” Sunghoon said, pushing past Iseul before she could stop him. Jake and Jungwon followed, forcing their way inside. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Iseul shouted.

“We’re taking him with us,” Jungwon said coldly, his gaze fixed on Heeseung. “He doesn’t deserve this.”

Heeseung looked between his friends and Iseul, his heart pounding. He wanted to leave to escape the nightmare he’d been living, but the fear of what Iseul might do held him back. 

“You’re not going anywhere, Heeseung,” Iseul said, stepping in front of him and gripping his arm tightly. “You’re staying here. With me.”

“You don’t get to decide that,”Jake said, his voice firm. “Heeseung, if you want to leave, we’re here to help you. Just say the word.”

Tears welled in Heeseung’s eyes as he looked at his friends. For the first time in weeks, a glimmer of hope stirred in chest. But when Iseul’s nails dug into his arm, the hope flickered and nearly died. 

“I…” he hesitated, his voice trembling. 

“You can’t take him,” Iseul said. “He’s mine.”

But as Heeseung reached out, his steady presence grounding Heeseung, the words he had been too afraid to say finally escaped his lips.

“I want to leave,” Heeseung whispered, his voice breaking.”

Iseul’s grip faltered for the briefest moment and in that instant, Jungwon and Jake pulled Heeseung away from her. Iseul screamed, her voice a mix of rage and heartbreak, but Sunghoon stood between her and Heeseung, blocking her path. 

She tried everything to get to him but Sunghoon wouldn’t budge. 

It was finally happening. He was leaving her breaking all of his promises and throwing all of his words out of the window. She watched as they took him, breaking down at the sight. Tears ran down her pale cheeks and she fell to her knees instantly crying her eyes out. He was really gone. He really chose them over her. 

The ride back to Jungwon’s apartment was silent save for the faint hum of the car engine. Heeseung sat in the backseat, staring blankly out the window, his body trembling from exhaustion and the adrenaline that still coursed through him. Jake drove with clenched hands on the wheel, his jaw tight, while Jungwon sat beside him, constantly glancing back at Heeseung with concern.

When they arrived, the group ushered Heeseung inside. Sunghoon locked the door behind them, as if afraid Iseul might appear at any moment. Heeseung sank onto the couch, his shoulders slumped. His friends exchanged worried glances before Jungwon spoke.

“Heeseung, you need to tell us what’s been going on,” he said gently, sitting across from him. “We’ve been worried sick about you.”

Heeseung hesitated, his throat tightening as he tried to find the words. His hands trembled as he ran them through his hair. “I… I don’t even know where to start,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Start anywhere,” Jake said firmly, sitting beside him. “We’re here now. You don’t have to deal with this alone anymore.”

Heeseung let out a shaky breath, the dam of emotions he’d been holding back for weeks finally breaking. “She… she wouldn’t let me leave,” he began, his voice trembling. “She took my phone, monitored everything I did. If I even looked like I was thinking about leaving, she’d lose it. She started throwing things, hitting me…”

Sunoo’s hand flew to his mouth in shock. “She hit you?”

Heeseung nodded, his eyes welling with tears. “It got worse after that night at the café. She blamed me for everything—said I made her act like that, that it was my fault for not loving her enough.”

“That’s not love, Heeseung,” Sunghoon said, his voice low but firm. “That’s manipulation. Abuse.”

“I know,” Heeseung admitted, his voice breaking. “But I couldn’t leave. I was scared of what she might do—to me, to herself. She always made me feel like I owed her something, like I was nothing without her.”

Jay, who had been leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, finally spoke. “You don’t owe her anything, Heeseung. What she did to you wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

Heeseung buried his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as the weight of his ordeal finally came crashing down. Jungwon moved to sit beside him, placing a comforting hand on his back. “We’re going to help you through this,” he said softly. “But you need to promise us that you won’t go back to her.”

“I… I don’t know if I can,” Heeseung admitted, his voice muffled. “She’ll come after me. She always does. And part of me still—” He stopped, his voice catching as he realized what he was about to say.

“You still care about her,” Jake finished for him, his tone understanding but firm. “I get it, Heeseung. But caring about her doesn’t mean you should let her hurt you. You have to put yourself first now.”

Heeseung nodded hesitantly, though the fear in his eyes remained.

The group spent the night keeping Heeseung company, taking turns staying up to ensure he felt safe. They checked in on him constantly, offering him food, water, and comfort. Despite their efforts, Heeseung barely spoke, the trauma of the past weeks weighing heavily on him.

The next morning, Jungwon sat down with Heeseung at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of coffee in front of each of them. “We need to talk about next steps,” Jungwon said carefully. “You can’t just hide here forever. Iseul’s not going to stop looking for you.”

Heeseung’s grip on his mug tightened. “What can I even do? She knows everything about me—where I work, where my family lives…”

“Then we get the authorities involved,” Jungwon said firmly. “We can help you file a restraining order, and if she tries to contact you, she’ll face consequences.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened. “A restraining order? I don’t know, Jungwon. What if that makes her angrier?”

“It’s not about her feelings anymore,” Sunghoon interjected, leaning against the counter. “It’s about keeping you safe. She’s already hurt you, Heeseung. Don’t give her another chance to do it again.”

The words struck a chord in Heeseung, and after a long moment of silence, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

The group spent the next few days helping Heeseung gather the necessary evidence to file a restraining order. He finally opened up about the extent of Iseul’s behavior—her constant monitoring, the physical abuse, the threats. Each detail made his friends’ anger grow, but they channeled it into supporting him.

Meanwhile, Iseul’s attempts to contact Heeseung escalated. She sent dozens of messages and left voicemails filled with alternating pleas and threats. Jungwon took Heeseung’s phone to document everything, ensuring there was a clear record of her harassment.

By the time they filed the restraining order, Heeseung felt a small, cautious sense of relief. It wasn’t over—he knew that—but it was a step toward reclaiming his life.

For the first time in weeks, he felt like he could breathe. And with his friends by his side, he dared to believe that he might one day be free of Iseul’s shadow entirely.

The days following the filing of the restraining order were a whirlwind of emotions for Heeseung. Relief, fear, guilt, and a gnawing uncertainty all competed for space in his mind. His friends took turns staying with him at Jungwon’s apartment, ensuring he was never alone, but even their presence couldn’t fully ease the tension in his chest.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Heeseung sat on the couch, staring blankly at the TV while Sunoo rummaged through the kitchen. Sunoo had insisted on making dinner that night, hoping the distraction would help Heeseung relax.

“You’ve barely eaten today,” Sunoo said, breaking the silence as he set a plate of food in front of Heeseung. “You need to take care of yourself, Heeseung. You’ve been through enough.”

Heeseung glanced at the plate, his stomach churning. “I’m not really hungry,” he muttered.

Sunoo frowned but didn’t push. Instead, he sat down beside him, his voice soft. “I know it’s hard right now, but you’re doing the right thing. Getting out of that situation—it’s the bravest thing you’ve ever done.”

Heeseung’s eyes flickered with doubt. “It doesn’t feel brave. It feels… wrong. Like I abandoned her.”

“You didn’t abandon her,” Sunoo said firmly. “She was hurting you, Heeseung. You had to put yourself first, and that’s not wrong.”

A few hours later, Jake and Sunghoon arrived, their presence bringing a slightly lighter atmosphere to the apartment. Jake immediately flopped onto the couch beside Heeseung, slinging an arm around his shoulders.

“You look like you’ve been through a war,” Jake said, half-joking.

Heeseung managed a weak smile. “Feels like it, too.”

“Well, you’re not alone,” Sunghoon said, sitting across from them. “We’re all here for you, no matter what. You don’t have to fight this battle by yourself.”

Their words comforted Heeseung, but a nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t let him fully relax. He knew Iseul too well. She wasn’t the type to give up easily, and her silence since the restraining order had been filed only made him more uneasy.

That unease turned out to be justified.

Late that night, as the group was winding down, Heeseung’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. He froze, his heart pounding as everyone else in the room turned to look at it.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jungwon asked, his voice laced with concern.

Heeseung nodded silently, his hands shaking as he picked up the phone. The screen displayed a series of missed calls and texts, all from an unknown number he recognized immediately as Iseul’s.

Iseul: I know where you are.Iseul: You can’t hide from me forever, Heeseung.Iseul: I’ll forgive you if you just come back. Don’t make me do something drastic.

Heeseung’s stomach dropped. He handed the phone to Jungwon, unable to read any more. Jungwon’s jaw clenched as he scrolled through the messages, his anger evident.

“She’s escalating,” Jungwon said grimly. “We need to let the authorities know.”

“Now?” Heeseung asked, his voice trembling.

“Yes, now,” Jay interjected. “This isn’t just harassment anymore. She’s threatening you.”

The group quickly sprang into action, calling the police and providing them with the messages as evidence. The officers assured Heeseung that they would follow up on the case, but their words did little to ease his anxiety.

After the officers left, the group sat in a tense silence. Heeseung felt like a burden, dragging his friends into a situation that seemed to have no end.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“Stop apologizing,” Sunghoon said sharply. “This isn’t your fault, Heeseung. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Jungwon added, his voice softer but no less firm. “She can try to scare you all she wants, but she won’t get to you as long as we’re here.”

That night, Heeseung finally allowed himself to cry. For weeks, he had bottled up his fear, his pain, and his guilt, but in the safety of his friends’ presence, the dam finally broke. Jungwon and Jake stayed by his side, offering quiet reassurances as he let it all out.

By morning, Heeseung felt lighter, though the shadow of Iseul’s presence still loomed. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but for the first time in a long time, he believed he might survive this. And with his friends by his side, he was determined to reclaim his life, piece by piece.

In the days following Iseul's threatening messages, Heeseung's friends became increasingly concerned about how far she might go. The restraining order hadn’t deterred her, and her escalating behavior made it clear she wouldn’t stop until she had Heeseung back under her control. Jake, always the practical one, suggested that they start looking into her past to understand more about her motives—and potentially find a way to protect Heeseung further.

“She’s unhinged,” Jake said, scrolling through his laptop as the group gathered at Jungwon’s apartment. “Nobody acts like that out of nowhere. There has to be something in her history—something we can use to get ahead of her.”

“I don’t know if we should dig into her personal life,” Jungwon hesitated, glancing at Heeseung, who was sitting quietly on the couch. “What if it makes things worse?”

Heeseung, who had been largely silent since the ordeal began, finally spoke up. “No. Do it. I need to know what I’m dealing with. I can’t live like this anymore.”

It didn’t take long for the digging to yield results. Jake found a series of social media accounts that seemed abandoned, with cryptic posts hinting at tumultuous past relationships. But it was Sunghoon, searching through local forums, who uncovered something truly unsettling: a police report from two years ago.

“She was in another relationship before you, Heeseung,” Sunghoon said, his face pale as he read the report aloud. “Her ex filed a restraining order against her. He claimed she stalked him, broke into his apartment, and even tried to sabotage his new relationship.”

The room went silent. Heeseung’s face turned pale as the weight of the discovery settled on him. “She’s done this before,” he whispered.

“And it gets worse,” Sunghoon continued, his voice shaking. “Her ex disappeared six months after the restraining order was issued. The case went cold. No evidence, no leads—just gone.”

“Are you saying…?” Sunoo trailed off, his eyes wide with fear.

“I’m saying we might be dealing with someone a lot more dangerous than we thought,” Sunghoon finished grimly.

As they delved deeper, more disturbing details emerged. Iseul’s high school records revealed incidents of violent outbursts and manipulative behavior. She’d been expelled from one school for attacking another student over a supposed slight, and another for threatening a teacher. There were whispers on old forums about her obsessing over a boy who had rejected her, though nothing concrete ever came of it.

“She’s been like this for years,” Jay said, shaking his head in disbelief. “How did we not see this coming?”

“She’s good at hiding it,” Jungwon said quietly. “She came across as so sweet and harmless at first. None of us thought she was capable of…” He hesitated, glancing at Heeseung, “...this.”

Heeseung sat in silence, his hands clenched into fists. He felt sick. The woman he thought he loved, the woman he had trusted, was a stranger to him—a stranger capable of things he could barely comprehend.

That night, the group debated their next steps. Sunghoon wanted to take the information straight to the police, but Jake argued that they needed more evidence to tie Iseul to her ex’s disappearance. Meanwhile, Jungwon suggested confronting Iseul’s parents or old acquaintances to learn more about her behavior.

“Someone has to know what happened with her ex,” Jungwon said. “If we can figure out what pushed her over the edge, maybe we can stop her before she does something worse.”

Heeseung shook his head. “I don’t want to talk to her family. They’ll just defend her. She’s probably been manipulating them, too.”

“We have to try,” Sunoo said gently. “Heeseung, we’re running out of time. She knows where you are, and she’s not going to stop until she gets to you.”

Reluctantly, Heeseung agreed.

The following day, Jake and Sunghoon visited Iseul’s childhood home, posing as concerned friends to her parents. Her mother, a soft-spoken woman with tired eyes, welcomed them in, but her father was immediately defensive.

“What’s this about?” her father demanded, crossing his arms. “If you’re here to talk about Heeseung, we don’t want to hear it.”

“We’re here because we’re worried about her,” Jake lied smoothly. “She’s been struggling, and we’re trying to understand how to help her.”

Her mother sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Iseul has always been… sensitive,” she admitted. “She cares too deeply. Sometimes it gets the better of her.”

“Cares too deeply?” Sunghoon repeated, his tone sharp. “She’s been stalking Heeseung, threatening him. This isn’t just ‘caring.’”

Her father glared at them. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Iseul’s had a hard life. People misunderstand her.”

Her mother hesitated, then whispered, “There was someone before Heeseung. A boy she loved. When he left her, she was never the same. She became obsessed.”

“What happened to him?” Jake asked, his heart pounding.

Her mother didn’t answer, but the haunted look in her eyes spoke volumes.

When Jake and Sunghoon returned to Jungwon’s apartment and relayed what they’d learned, the room fell into a heavy silence. The pieces were starting to come together, and the picture they painted was terrifying.

“She’s done this before,” Jungwon said grimly. “And if we don’t stop her, she’ll do it again.”

“What if she already has something planned?” Sunoo asked, his voice trembling.

Heeseung’s stomach churned as he looked at his friends. “Then we don’t wait for her to act,” he said, his voice steady despite the fear in his eyes. “We go to the police, and we stop her before it’s too late.”

Unbeknownst to them, Iseul was already watching. From a parked car down the street, she observed the comings and goings at Jungwon’s apartment, her fingers drumming against the steering wheel. She knew they were digging into her past, and she wasn’t about to let them ruin everything.

“Heeseung,” she murmured to herself, her eyes narrowing. “You belong to me. And no one is going to take you away.”

The game was far from over.

The next few days were filled with a quiet but intense determination. Heeseung’s friends, now more committed than ever to uncovering the truth about Iseul, dove headfirst into researching her past. Heeseung, though exhausted and still haunted by the relentless fear she instilled in him, reluctantly shared everything he knew. Every detail about her childhood, her trauma, and her obsession with control became key pieces to understanding the woman who was slowly dismantling his life.

“Iseul told me a lot over the years,” Heeseung said one night, as they sat around the living room. The tension was palpable, but his voice was steady as he continued. “She said her parents were emotionally abusive. She told me they would always put pressure on her to be perfect, to get everything right. She said they used to hit her when she failed to meet their expectations... and that they always told her she was worthless. That’s why she always has to be in control of everything around her. If she lets go, she feels like she’s going to break.”

Jungwon frowned, his fingers gripping the edge of the coffee table. “That explains a lot. It’s not just about you, Heeseung. She’s trying to control everything because she’s never had control in her own life.”

Sunghoon, who had been quietly listening, added, “It’s like a need for power. She’s so obsessed with keeping hold of you because it’s the one thing that makes her feel like she’s not completely helpless. Like she’s in charge.”

“That’s why she’s so possessive,” Jake murmured, his mind racing as he processed the new information. “But it’s more than just wanting you, Heeseung. It’s about her needing you to need her. She has to be the one pulling the strings, or everything falls apart.”

“I think we’ve been looking at it all wrong,” Jay said, his voice tinged with realization. “We’ve been thinking of her as some crazy ex or jealous girlfriend. But she’s not just obsessed with Heeseung—she’s obsessed with control. And if she doesn’t have control, she completely unravels.”

Heeseung swallowed, his eyes clouded with guilt and fear. “I just wanted to help her. I didn’t know how deep it went. I didn’t know how far she’d go to keep me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Sunoo said, giving him a reassuring look. “You didn’t make her this way. And we’re going to fix this. We just need to understand her more.”

The team spent the next several days digging deeper. They scoured every piece of information they could find about Iseul—old school records, past social media accounts, even public records of her family history. What they uncovered was chilling.

Iseul’s parents had never been arrested for abuse, but there were whispers about their reputation within the small community they lived in. The more they dug, the clearer it became that her family had a history of mistreating her, both emotionally and physically. Her father had been a domineering figure, frequently found yelling at her in public, and her mother, though seemingly soft-spoken, had a cold, calculating air about her. Heeseung remembered the way Iseul had spoken about them, and he realized how much her mother’s behavior mirrored Iseul’s own—controlling, suffocating, and manipulative.

“I found something,” Jake said, breaking the silence one evening as he sat at his laptop. The group gathered around him, their collective eyes wide with anticipation.

“It’s an article from years ago,” Jake explained, his finger pointing at the screen. “It’s about Iseul’s mom, Mi-Young. Apparently, there was a case where Mi-Young was involved in a major fraud scheme, scamming people out of their savings. She was caught, but the case was dropped. They say it was because of her connections in the community. But what’s important is that, during the investigation, several witnesses came forward, talking about how Mi-Young had a terrifying grip on her daughter. They say she’d make Iseul do things to ‘earn her love.’ It’s all tied to that same need for control.”

“Is it possible Iseul learned that behavior from her mother?” Jungwon asked quietly, his voice filled with disbelief. “That she was taught to manipulate and control from a young age?”

Jake nodded grimly. “It seems like it. She’s repeating the cycle. And now, Heeseung, you’re the target.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, his expression dark. “This is bad. We thought we could reason with her, but it’s clear that we’re dealing with someone who has no idea what healthy love looks like. Someone who’s been conditioned to believe that control is the only form of affection.”

Heeseung felt his stomach churn. He had always known Iseul’s love was intense, but he hadn’t realized it was toxic—born out of years of manipulation and abuse. She wasn’t just someone with a simple jealousy problem; she had been shaped by abuse into a person who thought control and obsession were signs of love.

“I don’t know how to stop this,” Heeseung admitted, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. “I just wanted to be there for her. But now... I don’t know who she really is anymore.”

“You’re not the one who’s changed,” Jake said gently. “She’s the one who’s twisted everything. We just need to focus on getting you out of her grip. And for that, we need to keep looking at her past. There’s got to be something we can use to make her see that this isn’t love. It’s control, and it’s destroying both of you.”

Over the next week, the group continued to dig deeper, slowly peeling back layers of Iseul’s past. They discovered more disturbing details about her relationships, including an ex-boyfriend who had filed a restraining order against her for stalking and harassment. The police report detailed how she had bombarded him with dozens of texts and calls after their breakup, showing the same obsessive tendencies she had shown with Heeseung. The pattern was undeniable.

“She’s not capable of seeing how destructive this is,” Sunghoon said, shaking his head. “She’s been taught that this kind of obsession is normal. It’s how she learned to love.”

“And she’s using the same tactics with you, Heeseung,” Jungwon added. “This is a cycle of abuse that goes back generations. And until she gets help, it’s not going to stop.”

“Maybe it’s time to try and confront her about it,” Sunoo suggested. “If we confront her with the truth, maybe she’ll see the damage she’s doing.”

But Heeseung couldn’t shake the fear in his chest. “What if it just makes things worse?”

“She’s already made things worse,” Jake said. “We can’t let her keep hurting you like this. We need to make her see that she’s destroying everything—everyone—around her.”

But as they gathered the final pieces of the puzzle, it became clear that confronting Iseul wouldn’t be as simple as revealing her past. The deeper they went into her history, the more they realized how deeply embedded her need for control was—and how far she was willing to go to keep it.

After weeks of research and discussions, the group finally reached a decision. They couldn’t keep running, and they couldn’t keep living in fear. They needed to confront Iseul, to make her face the truth about her past, her actions, and what she had been doing to Heeseung. Despite knowing how dangerous and volatile she could be, they decided they had no other choice. If they didn’t stop her now, things would only escalate further.

The plan was simple: they would draw Iseul in with Heeseung. She would be lured into thinking this was just another moment where she could reclaim him, control him. But once she was there, they would make sure the truth came crashing down on her. It was risky—too risky—but it was the only way to break the cycle.

The night before the confrontation, Heeseung was a mess. His hands shook as he stared at the group in the dimly lit living room. His friends tried to reassure him, but the fear in his eyes was undeniable.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” Heeseung said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared... of what she’ll do. I don’t want her to hurt anyone, but I don’t know how to stop her.”

Jungwon placed a firm hand on his shoulder, trying to offer a sense of calm. “You’re not alone, Heeseung. We’re doing this together. You’re stronger than you think, and we’re not going to let her hurt you anymore.”

“She’s not just hurting him,” Jake added, his voice low but full of conviction. “She’s been hurting all of us, and we can’t let her keep doing this.”

Heeseung nodded weakly but still looked unconvinced. The knot in his stomach tightened as he thought of Iseul—her eyes, filled with obsession and possessiveness, the way she could easily switch from sweet to violent in the blink of an eye. He didn’t know if he could handle facing that again.

The plan was set into motion the next evening. The group had managed to find a time when Iseul had been unusually quiet, as though she were planning something. They figured it was her moment of vulnerability. She had always been unpredictable, but she had never been one to resist Heeseung for long.

Heeseung called her from his phone, his voice shaking as he told her he needed to see her. She didn’t hesitate, immediately agreeing to come over. The tension in the apartment was thick with anxiety as the group made their final preparations. Heeseung sat on the couch, staring down at his phone, silently pleading for strength.

“I’m going to try to keep her calm,” Heeseung said to the group, looking at each of them in turn. “Please... don’t do anything unless she goes too far. I don’t want this to turn into a mess.”

Jungwon nodded. “You have to trust us, Heeseung. We won’t let her hurt you.”

The doorbell rang. The moment had come.

Iseul stood at the door, her presence immediately overwhelming the room. Her eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the group, her lips curling into a smile when they landed on Heeseung. Her beauty, though undeniably striking, only heightened the sense of danger that surrounded her.

“Heeseung,” she cooed, her voice sweet yet laced with something darker. “I knew you couldn’t stay away. I’m always here for you.”

Heeseung stood from the couch, his legs unsteady as he moved toward her. “Iseul... we need to talk. It’s time.”

Her eyes narrowed, her smile faltering for just a split second. “Talk?” she repeated, her tone suddenly hard. “What do we need to talk about?”

The group stood silently behind Heeseung, the tension palpable. Jungwon was the first to speak, his voice calm but firm.

“We need to talk about everything, Iseul,” he said. “About what you’ve been doing to Heeseung. About the way you’ve been controlling him, manipulating him... and about your past.”

Her eyes flicked from Jungwon to the others, her expression darkening. “What are you talking about?” she snapped, her hand twitching slightly toward the pocket of her jacket where a knife was hidden. The group noticed it immediately but stayed calm.

“We know about your parents,” Sunghoon continued, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. “We know about how you were abused. We know you’ve been using Heeseung to fill that void in your life, to make up for the control you never had as a child.”

Iseul’s expression shifted to one of disbelief, her eyes widening for a moment as she took a step back. “You... you don’t know anything about me!” she hissed. “You think you can just dig into my life and expose me like this? You think you can tell me what to do?”

“We’re not telling you what to do, Iseul,” Sunghoon said softly, his voice unwavering. “We’re telling you that what you’re doing is wrong. You’re hurting him, and you’re hurting yourself in the process. You need help.”

“Stop,” Heeseung pleaded, stepping forward, his voice shaking. “Iseul, please... this isn’t love. This is control. You’ve been controlling me, manipulating me, and I can’t keep living like this. You’re breaking me.”

The words seemed to hit her like a slap. For a moment, she looked genuinely stunned, her face contorting with anger and confusion. “I’m not controlling you!” she screamed, her voice rising. “I love you, Heeseung. I love you more than anyone ever could! You can’t leave me. You can’t!”

“I’m not leaving you,” Heeseung said, his voice breaking. “I’m asking you to leave me. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep living in fear.”

Iseul’s eyes hardened, her lips curling into a snarl. “You think you can leave me? You think you can just walk away?” Her hand shot out, grabbing a vase off the table and throwing it at the wall, the sharp crash filling the room. She moved toward Heeseung in a blur, her hand grabbing his wrist with terrifying force, her nails digging into his skin.

“You’re mine,” she hissed, her voice low and venomous. “You’ll always be mine. And no one will ever take you from me.”

Before anyone could move, Jungwon stepped forward, placing himself between Iseul and Heeseung, trying to de-escalate the situation. “Iseul, this isn’t the way. This needs to stop. You can’t keep doing this.”

But she only pushed him aside, her face twisted with rage. “You think you can take him from me?” she spat. “Heeseung is mine! You’ll never understand! You’ll never feel what I feel for him!”

The group tried to step in, but the chaos was overwhelming. Iseul was breaking down in front of them, and it was clear—she wasn’t ready to face the truth.

In that moment, Heeseung realized how deep the damage ran. Iseul wasn’t just a woman in love. She was a person broken by years of abuse, unable to comprehend anything beyond control and possession. And no matter how much he wanted to help her, he understood now that he couldn’t fix this alone.

She was too far gone. The confrontation had only pushed her deeper into her spiral, and Heeseung was once again caught in the storm of her fury.

As the confrontation escalated, Iseul’s once-contained demeanor began to unravel before everyone’s eyes. Her face twisted in a way that was almost unrecognizable, the mask of control she had so carefully built over the years cracking under the pressure. She stood there, her chest heaving, the words from Heeseung and his friends hanging in the air like a heavy weight she couldn’t shake off.

Her eyes darted around the room, from one person to the next, as if searching for someone who could make it all stop, someone who could tell her that this wasn’t real—that she wasn’t being exposed, that she wasn’t losing control. But no one came to her rescue. The silence between them grew unbearable. Iseul could feel it—the suffocating reality that she was alone, that the walls she had so carefully built around herself were falling down. Her lips trembled as her hands began to shake.

“You’re all lying,” Iseul whispered, her voice barely audible, yet still sharp with disbelief. Her eyes locked onto Heeseung’s, pleading, desperate. “This isn’t what you think. I love you, Heeseung. I love you more than anyone ever could. You’re mine… I need you.”

Heeseung stood there, heart pounding in his chest. He saw the brokenness in her eyes, the desperation, and the chaos that was beginning to spill out. He hated seeing her like this, but he knew, deep down, it had gone too far. “Iseul, this isn’t love,” he said softly, his voice quivering with both fear and sorrow. “This is control. You’ve been controlling me, manipulating me. I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep being the person you need me to be.”

She took a step back as if struck by the words, her body swaying slightly. “No, no,” she muttered, her voice shaky but louder now. “You can’t leave me, Heeseung. You can’t. I gave you everything. I did everything for you, and you’re going to throw it all away? You—” Her words caught in her throat, her breathing growing shallow and erratic.

Before anyone could react, she stumbled, her legs giving way beneath her as her hands gripped her hair, pulling at it as if she were trying to hold herself together. She collapsed to her knees on the floor, her body shaking violently. The sound that came from her wasn’t human—it was a gut-wrenching, primal sob that seemed to come from deep within her. It was the sound of someone whose mind had finally fractured, someone who had pushed themselves too far for too long.

“I’ve never been good enough for anyone!” she cried out, her voice cracking. “Not for my parents, not for you, Heeseung. I’ve always had to be perfect, always had to be everything everyone wanted me to be. And now you’re all telling me that I’m nothing, that I’m broken. But I am, aren’t I? I’m nothing but a monster.”

Jungwon stepped forward cautiously, his heart aching at the sight of her—this was no longer just a woman possessed by obsession; this was someone who had been destroyed by the years of abuse, who had been crushed by the weight of her own need for control. He knelt beside her, trying to offer some sense of comfort, but he was careful, knowing how volatile she could be.

“Iseul, no one is calling you a monster,” Jungwon said softly, his tone as gentle as he could muster. “You’ve been through a lot. We know that. But what you’re doing to Heeseung isn’t healthy. You’re hurting him—and yourself.”

She looked up at him, her tear-streaked face filled with raw emotion. “You don’t get it,” she spat bitterly, pushing him away as if he were the cause of her pain. “None of you get it. You think you can fix me. You think you can just make me better, make everything okay. But I’m beyond that, okay? I’m not fixable. I was never fixable.”

The group was taken aback by the venom in her voice, but they pressed on. They couldn’t let her spin this any longer, couldn’t let her use her pain as a weapon to hurt others. Heeseung, though his heart was breaking at the sight of her, knew this was the moment when everything would change—when she either broke free of her control or became completely consumed by it.

“Iseul,” Heeseung said softly, stepping closer to her despite his fear. “You are fixable, but you can’t do it alone. You need help, and I can’t be the one to help you anymore. I’ve been trying to be there for you, but it’s hurting both of us. This isn’t love. This isn’t how love is supposed to feel.”

She gasped, her eyes wild with panic. “No! Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” She grabbed his arm, her fingers digging into his skin with painful intensity. “You can’t leave me, Heeseung. I need you. I can’t breathe without you. Don’t leave me like this. I’ll die without you. I swear I will!”

Heeseung recoiled, his chest tightening as she clung to him, her grip almost suffocating. The desperation in her eyes was chilling, and he could see the spiraling collapse that was unfolding before him. This wasn’t the woman he had once loved. This was someone who had been broken so many times by life and her past that there was nothing left but the need to consume, to possess, to destroy.

“I’m not leaving you, Iseul,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I can’t stay in this toxic cycle anymore. I need to be free. We need to break free from this.”

Her eyes widened, her chest rising and falling erratically as her breath became shallow. “No... no, no, no!” she screamed, her voice rising in pitch until it was a raw, guttural scream that echoed throughout the room. Her face twisted in agony as she sank back to the floor, her hands reaching for anything, for something to hold on to.

“I can’t lose you, Heeseung,” she cried out, her body wracked with sobs. “I can’t lose you... I can’t be alone again.” She curled into herself, her sobs growing louder and more desperate as the weight of her own fractured mind began to collapse in on her.

The group stood frozen, not knowing how to react to this meltdown. They knew that they couldn’t let this continue. They couldn’t let Iseul drag Heeseung down into the abyss with her. But the tragedy was clear—she was so deep in her own torment, so lost in her need for control, that she didn’t see the damage she had caused.

“We’ll help you, Iseul,” Sunghoon said, his voice firm, but sympathetic. “But only if you let us. You need to get help. This can’t keep going on.”

She didn’t respond. Her sobs were the only answer, a sound that tore through the room, raw and vulnerable. Heeseung watched her, torn between the woman he had once known and the monster she had become. He didn’t know if there was a way back for her, but he knew one thing for certain—he couldn’t save her anymore. Not like this.

Iseul’s sobs slowly began to quiet, her body trembling as the weight of her emotional breakdown still clung to her like a heavy blanket. The silence that followed was thick, and the room seemed to close in around her, as though the very air itself was holding its breath. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, but her frantic energy seemed to be ebbing, leaving her more vulnerable and exposed than ever before.

Heeseung stood a few feet away, his hands trembling as he watched her—watching the woman who had once been so full of life, now reduced to a fragile, broken version of herself. His heart ached for her, but he knew that nothing would ever change unless she truly faced the reality of what was happening between them.

"I-I can't lose you," Iseul whispered hoarsely, her eyes now softer, almost pleading. Her voice was no longer the wild scream it had been moments before, but instead, there was a subtle fragility in her words. "Please, Heeseung... please don't leave me. I can't handle being alone. I can't."

Heeseung’s heart twisted in his chest at the sight of her vulnerability. He could see it now—the rawness, the brokenness that had been hidden behind her need for control. She wasn’t just a woman obsessed with him; she was someone who had suffered deeply, someone who had never been able to find solace or peace. He knew he couldn’t save her on his own, but he also knew that he couldn’t leave her in this state.

“Iseul…” Heeseung started softly, his voice filled with a quiet ache. “I’m not leaving you because I don’t care. I’m not leaving you because I hate you. I’m leaving because I want you to get better. I want you to heal. But you can’t heal when you’re holding on to me like this. You need help, and I can’t be the one to fix you. I’m not strong enough for that, and neither are you.”

Iseul's head hung low as she listened, her fingers curling tightly into her palms as she fought to keep herself composed. She nodded slowly, her breathing still shallow but more controlled now. “I understand,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’ve been so lost, so selfish... I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I never wanted to hurt you. I just... I don’t know how to exist without you.”

“Iseul…” Heeseung took a tentative step forward, his eyes softening as he reached out, placing a hand gently on her arm. “You don’t have to exist for me. You need to exist for yourself. You need to find yourself again. You can’t keep defining your worth by what I can give you.”

Her eyes flickered up to his, the familiar spark of something once tender shining through the haze of her madness. For a brief moment, it seemed like the woman he had fallen in love with might still be there, buried beneath the layers of fear and possessiveness.

“I’ll go,” she said quietly, her voice quieter than it had been all night. “I’ll get help. I’ll go to therapy… I’ll work on myself. But, Heeseung…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide and vulnerable, her voice soft but insistent. “I can’t let you go completely. I can’t. I need you. I love you. Can’t we... can’t we still be together? Even just a little? I’ll try. I’ll try to change, I swear.”

The plea in her voice stung, a mixture of desperation and the remnants of the love she still felt for him. Heeseung’s heart clenched again as he processed her words, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He had never wanted to hurt her, never wanted to see her like this, but he knew that as much as he cared for her, being with her in this toxic, suffocating state wasn’t fair to either of them.

“I don’t know, Iseul,” Heeseung said quietly, his voice tight with conflict. “I really don’t know. I want to believe you, I do. But it’s going to take time. You can’t just fix everything overnight. I can’t be the one who keeps holding you up while you’re falling apart.”

She nodded, her expression softened, almost resigned, though the longing in her eyes remained. “I’ll try, Heeseung. I promise I will try. Just... please don’t leave me. Please don’t completely shut me out.”

For a moment, Heeseung just stood there, watching her. The room had quieted down, the tension still hanging in the air like a thick fog. Heeseung closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a slow breath. He wanted to help her, he really did, but he knew he couldn’t continue like this—not while she was still so unstable.

“I’ll be here for you, Iseul,” Heeseung said softly, his tone gentle but firm. “I’m not abandoning you. But I can’t be everything for you anymore. You need to take responsibility for your own healing. I can’t keep trying to fix you.”

Iseul took a deep breath, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked up at him. Her voice was barely a whisper, a plea that hung in the air. “You don’t have to fix me, Heeseung. Just don’t leave me completely. Please. I need you to be here... with me.”

Heeseung’s heart twisted again as he looked at her, seeing the quiet desperation in her gaze. For a moment, he almost gave in. But then he remembered everything that had happened, everything that had brought them to this point. He knew the road ahead was going to be long, and he couldn’t keep enabling her behavior. He couldn’t let his own feelings cloud the truth.

“I’ll be here,” Heeseung finally said, his voice steady but full of sadness. “But I need you to promise me something, Iseul. I need you to promise me that you’ll get the help you need. That you’ll take this seriously. And that you’ll give yourself the time to heal, even if it means we can’t be together for a while.”

Iseul’s eyes softened as she nodded slowly. “I promise,” she whispered, her voice fragile but sincere. “I’ll do anything, Heeseung. I just... I just need you to give me a chance. Just a little one.”

Heeseung hesitated, but then gave a small, pained smile. “We’ll see. But right now, you need to focus on yourself. That’s the most important thing. If we’re going to have a future, it’s going to start with you, Iseul. You.”

She nodded, looking down at her hands for a moment as if processing his words. Then, slowly, she looked up at him with a more composed expression, a quiet determination in her eyes. “I will. I promise.”

As Iseul slowly stood up, her body still trembling slightly from the emotional collapse earlier, Heeseung couldn’t help but feel a mixture of hope and dread. She had agreed to get help, but the road ahead would be difficult. The damage had been done, and he wasn’t sure if they would ever truly be able to go back to the way things were. But for now, all he could do was watch her take the first step toward healing—and hope that, one day, they both might find a way to move forward.

It had been a few months since the chaotic events that had nearly torn Heeseung and Iseul apart. During that time, Iseul had taken the necessary steps to heal, as painful as it had been. She went through therapy, committed herself to understanding her past, confronting the trauma that had shaped her, and taking time to reflect on her own behaviors. Slowly, the sharp edges of her personality that had once been suffocating, even dangerous, began to soften. Therapy had become her sanctuary, a space where she could express her fears, regrets, and emotions, all while learning how to process them in healthy ways.

The change wasn’t immediate, but it was profound. Iseul grew stronger, calmer, and more aware of her own feelings. She started to rebuild herself from the inside out, and the most noticeable change was her appearance. Her once-tired eyes, often filled with anxiety and fear, now sparkled with clarity and confidence. The lines of stress around her face softened, and her smile—once guarded—was now open and genuine. She looked healthier, more vibrant, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The vulnerability that had defined her before was still there, but now it was balanced with strength, a strength born from acceptance and self-growth.

One afternoon, after a long day of therapy and self-care, Iseul decided to visit Heeseung. She hadn’t seen him in a while, and while she was still unsure of their future together, she felt ready to face him—not as the broken person she once was, but as someone who had learned to stand on her own.

It was a Saturday, and Heeseung was with his friends—Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Niki, and Jay—at a café they frequented. They had been talking about everything from their recent plans to life in general when Iseul walked through the door. The bell above the café door chimed softly, but it was the way she walked in that caught everyone’s attention. It was calm and composed, her posture confident, as if she had shed the skin of her former self and emerged into something entirely new.

Heeseung’s eyes locked on her the moment she entered. The shift was subtle at first, but as his gaze lingered on her, the change became undeniable. Iseul had always been beautiful, but now, there was something different about her—something deeper. Her eyes, once filled with tension, now glistened with a calm radiance that made her even more striking. Her long hair fell around her shoulders in soft waves, the strands catching the light in a way that made her look almost ethereal. The clothes she wore were simple, but there was an understated elegance about them. Everything about her screamed maturity, and it was hard for Heeseung to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when he saw her.

The rest of the group noticed it too. They exchanged glances, each of them surprised by the transformation. Sunghoon was the first to speak.

“She looks… different,” he said softly, leaning over to Jake. “Like, in a good way. You can tell she’s been working on herself.”

“I was just about to say the same thing,” Jake replied, his eyes following Iseul’s every movement. “She seems so... peaceful now.”

Iseul walked up to the table, her steps graceful, her eyes meeting Heeseung’s with a quiet confidence. She smiled at him, a genuine, unguarded smile that made his heart swell. The tension between them was still there, but it was softer now—more like the remnants of something that had once been intense but was now being gently set aside.

“Heeseung,” she said, her voice steady and calm, with a warmth he hadn’t heard in months.

“Heeseung, we need to talk,” she added, her eyes soft but earnest.

Heeseung swallowed, unsure of how to react, but the old protective instinct kicked in, and he stood up to greet her. There was a small lump in his throat, but he managed a smile, though it was more hesitant than before.

“Iseul,” he said, the word coming out like a breath of relief, as if he hadn’t realized how much he missed her until this very moment. “You look… different. Good different. How have you been?”

“I’ve been doing a lot better,” Iseul said with a small laugh, though it was laced with a trace of sadness. “It hasn’t been easy, but I’m working on it. I’ve been going to therapy. I’ve been focusing on myself—getting healthier.”

“I can see that,” Heeseung replied, his gaze lingering on her face. “You’ve changed, Iseul. You look… happier. More like yourself. The way you carry yourself, it’s like you’ve found peace.”

Iseul smiled softly, nodding. “I’m getting there. It’s a work in progress, but I’m finally at a place where I can breathe again.”

The group of friends, watching from the side, exchanged looks of approval. They had all been worried about Iseul’s mental state during the worst of it, but now, seeing her this way, they could tell that she had truly made strides.

Just then, Minji walked into the café, and her eyes immediately found Heeseung and Iseul. There was a moment of hesitation, but then Minji smiled warmly and walked over to the group, greeting everyone before her eyes settled on Iseul.

“Hey, Iseul,” Minji said, her tone friendly but curious. “You look... amazing. What’s been going on with you?”

Iseul turned to Minji, offering a soft smile. “I’ve been working on myself. Taking time to get better, to heal. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to be around, but I’m trying to make things right.”

Minji raised an eyebrow but smiled back. “I’m glad to hear that. I know it wasn’t easy for you. But you’re doing great, I can tell.”

Iseul’s smile widened slightly as she nodded, appreciative of the kind words. Then she turned to Heeseung again, her gaze softening. “I’ve missed you, you know. I’ve missed us. I know things can’t go back to the way they were, but I want us to find a way to move forward, even if it means starting slow.”

Heeseung felt a pang in his chest as he looked at her, seeing the vulnerability in her eyes that still remained despite her progress. “I’ve missed you too, Iseul,” he admitted, his voice quiet but sincere. “It’s been hard, but I’m glad to see you’re doing better. I just want you to be happy—whether that means with me or not. You deserve to find peace, Iseul.”

The group watched in silence, a sense of relief washing over them. There was no more tension in the air, no more feeling of uncertainty. For the first time in a long while, everything felt *normal*—like there was hope for the future. The heavy weight that had once consumed Iseul seemed to have lifted, and though there were still some unanswered questions between her and Heeseung, it was clear that they were both on a journey of healing.

As the group continued to chat, with Minji teasing Iseul about her newfound serenity and the others sharing small jokes, Heeseung and Iseul found themselves falling into an easy conversation. There was no longer any strain in the way they spoke, no sense of urgency. The quiet bond they once had was slowly beginning to stitch itself back together, thread by thread.

For the first time in a long while, Heeseung felt like there might be hope—for both of them.

As the weeks passed, Heeseung’s interactions with Iseul became more frequent. She had kept her promise to continue with her therapy and was genuinely making progress, slowly but surely. Each time they met, Heeseung saw a new side of her—one that was more open, more willing to accept her flaws, and more determined to heal. Iseul’s growth was visible not just in her emotional stability but in the way she handled situations that would have once triggered a meltdown. She was learning how to manage her insecurities, how to communicate more effectively, and most importantly, how to give space to Heeseung instead of suffocating him with her needs. 

For Heeseung, seeing Iseul like this was both comforting and confusing. There was a part of him that wanted to trust that she had truly changed, but the memory of everything they had gone through still lingered, like a shadow he couldn’t shake. Yet, as he spent more time with her, he began to realize that she wasn’t the same person who had spiraled out of control months ago. There was a maturity in her actions now, a sense of self-awareness that hadn’t been there before. She wasn’t perfect, but she was trying—and for the first time in a long while, Heeseung allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, they could try again.

One evening, Heeseung sat down with his friends, Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Niki, and Minji, at their usual hangout spot. The conversation had steered toward relationships, and naturally, the topic of Iseul came up. Heeseung had been hesitant to bring her up, unsure of how to approach the subject without reigniting the tension that had existed between him and his friends. But tonight, something felt different. He had been spending more time with Iseul, and he needed to talk about it—needed to process what he was feeling.

“I’ve been thinking,” Heeseung began, his voice cautious, yet determined. “About Iseul… about us.”

The table fell silent, and every eye turned to him, some expressions curious, others wary. Minji, who had been sitting next to Heeseung, raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile.

“You’re really going there, huh?” Minji said, her tone teasing but laced with concern. “Are you sure about this, Heeseung?”

Heeseung hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he looked around at his friends. “I mean… I think she’s different now. I really do. She’s been working on herself—going to therapy, really taking responsibility for everything that happened.”

Jungwon leaned forward, his tone skeptical but still supportive. “We’ve seen the change in her. Iseul is calmer, more stable. But I’m gonna be real with you, man,” he added, his gaze serious, “You’ve gotta be careful. We’ve all seen how she can flip. No one’s forgotten how things went down.”

The others nodded in agreement, the weight of the memories still hanging over them like a dark cloud. Jake crossed his arms, his face tense.

“I don’t know, Heeseung,” he said, his voice low. “I get that you’re trying to give her a second chance, but after everything that went down, I’m not sure it’s worth the risk. What if she falls apart again? What if you get dragged back into that mess?”

“I get it,” Heeseung said, his voice quieter now, a trace of uncertainty creeping in. “But I see something in her now that I didn’t see before. She’s really trying to change. I want to be there for her.”

Minji watched Heeseung closely, sensing the conflict in his words. She shifted slightly in her seat, her voice gentle but firm. “I’m not saying she hasn’t changed, Heeseung. I’ve seen it too. But… you have to be careful. We all know how intense things got with her. If she snaps again—if things go back to how they were—are you ready to handle that? And are you sure you want to? Because this isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about everyone around you, too.”

Heeseung’s gaze flickered down to the table, his mind racing as he processed their words. He understood their concerns, but a part of him couldn’t let go of the hope that Iseul was different now. That the person she had become wasn’t the same one who had suffocated him with her possessiveness. But Minji’s words stung, because they were true. He wasn’t just diving back into this relationship alone; he had his friends to consider, too. They had all witnessed how volatile Iseul had been, how dangerous it had been for Heeseung to be involved with her when she was at her worst.

Sunghoon spoke up next, his voice calm but steady. “I agree with Minji. You’ve gotta be cautious, Heeseung. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And none of us want to go through that again. But if you really believe she’s changed, and you want to take that risk, then you should. Just don’t be naive about it. Set boundaries. Keep your guard up. Don’t let her back in just because you’re hoping she’s different.”

Heeseung nodded, the weight of his friends' words settling heavily in his chest. He appreciated their concern, but he also knew they weren’t going to understand his feelings completely. Only he knew the subtle shifts he had seen in Iseul—the small, telling moments where she had chosen to communicate instead of lash out, where she had shown patience instead of control.

“I hear you,” Heeseung said softly, his voice filled with resolve. “I know what I’m getting into, but I think I owe it to both of us to at least try. I want to believe in her. I want to believe she’s different.”

Minji leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she studied him. “Just promise me one thing,” she said seriously. “If things start to go south again—if you start feeling like you’re losing yourself, or if she gets possessive again—you’ll step back. You won’t let yourself get lost in it. Okay?”

Heeseung met her gaze, her words striking a chord deep inside him. “I promise,” he said with a quiet nod. “If things go sideways, I’ll walk away.”

The group was silent for a moment, each of them processing Heeseung’s decision. They didn’t agree with it, but they understood it. They had been his friends through everything, and they wanted what was best for him. All they could do now was stand by his side, no matter what happened next.

Later that evening, after the conversation had died down, Heeseung texted Iseul. He was about to meet her at a quiet park, where they had agreed to talk. As he waited for her to arrive, his mind raced. He had just shared his thoughts with his friends, who were concerned about him, and part of him wondered if they were right. But there was another part of him—one that couldn’t deny how much he still cared for Iseul, how much he wanted her to succeed. He knew this wouldn’t be easy. But maybe, just maybe, it was worth trying.

When Iseul finally arrived, her face lit up when she saw him, and Heeseung felt his heart give a small, hopeful flutter. She had come so far, and while there was still a long road ahead of them, Heeseung couldn’t help but feel like they were taking the first steps toward something better.

“I’ve missed you,” Iseul said quietly, her voice soft but full of sincerity.

“I’ve missed you too,” Heeseung replied, his tone more certain now than it had been before.

They stood there, just the two of them, in the quiet park, and for the first time in a long while, everything felt possible.

As weeks turned into months, Heeseung and Iseul continued their tentative steps toward rebuilding what had once been a complicated and volatile relationship. Both were aware of the gravity of the situation—Heeseung because he had witnessed firsthand how easily things could spiral out of control, and Iseul because she knew the emotional and psychological toll her actions had once taken on him. But they were determined to take things slow, to honor the progress they had both made, and to rebuild their trust from the ground up.

The next step in their journey was one that neither of them had anticipated: learning to navigate life as individuals first, and as a couple second. For Iseul, this meant continuing her therapy, staying committed to the healing process, and allowing herself to lean on Heeseung in a way that wasn’t suffocating. For Heeseung, it meant learning how to be supportive without feeling like he was walking on eggshells, and not allowing himself to get lost in the dynamics of their past relationship.

One evening, Heeseung invited Iseul to join him and his friends for a casual dinner at a local restaurant, something they hadn’t done in months. This was a small but significant step forward for both of them, as it marked the first time that Heeseung had openly included Iseul in his social circle again. It wasn’t lost on either of them how much this moment meant—it was a sign of the trust they had been rebuilding, even if it was still fragile.

As they walked into the restaurant, Iseul’s heart raced. She had been working hard on her social anxiety, on her tendency to shut herself off from the world, but being in a public space with Heeseung’s friends still made her feel exposed. Yet, she reminded herself that she had made progress. She had earned this moment. She had worked so hard to get here, and she wasn’t going to let fear take it away.

“Are you nervous?” Heeseung asked quietly as they were seated at a large table, the others chatting animatedly around them.

“A little,” Iseul admitted, her voice soft but honest. “I just… I don’t want to mess things up. I know I’ve done a lot of damage in the past.”

Heeseung reached across the table, his fingers brushing gently over hers, grounding her. “I know, but I’m here with you. You’re not alone in this.”

Iseul smiled at him, grateful for his words, but still unsure of herself. The reality was that she knew this was just another step, another test. She had to prove to herself, to Heeseung, and to his friends that she was truly ready for a fresh start. There were still moments when she felt like the old version of herself, the one consumed by jealousy and fear, but she also knew that she had changed, and that she was capable of something better.

As the night went on, Iseul gradually started to relax. The conversations flowed, the laughter was genuine, and the atmosphere was warm. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was truly part of the group, not as an outsider or someone to be pitied, but as someone who was allowed to be herself. 

Minji, who had been quietly observing Iseul throughout the evening, leaned over and whispered to Heeseung, “She’s different, you know? I can see it. She’s more confident now. More at ease with herself.”

Heeseung nodded, his gaze softening as he watched Iseul interact with the others. “She really is. I’m proud of her.”

The night ended on a high note, with everyone joking and laughing as they said their goodbyes. Heeseung walked Iseul to her car, his hand casually resting on her lower back as they walked through the parking lot.

“I’m really proud of you tonight,” Heeseung said, his voice sincere. “You were amazing.”

Iseul stopped walking for a moment, turning to face him. “You’re proud of me?” Her eyes were wide, as if she still couldn’t fully believe that Heeseung was seeing her progress.

“Of course I am,” Heeseung replied, his gaze steady. “You’ve come so far. It’s not easy, but I can see how much you’ve worked to be better. You’ve earned this moment.”

Tears welled up in Iseul’s eyes, though they were different from the tears she used to shed. These were tears of gratitude, of relief, because for the first time in a long while, she felt like she was truly on the right path. 

“I don’t think I could’ve done it without you,” Iseul whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Heeseung gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing away the lone tear that had escaped. “You could’ve,” he said softly. “But I’m glad you didn’t have to. I’m glad I was here.”

Their gazes locked, and for a moment, everything else faded away. They were two people who had come a long way—individually and together—and there was no rush, no pressure. Whatever the future held, they were both learning how to navigate it, one step at a time.

In the weeks that followed, Heeseung and Iseul found themselves continuing to build on this newfound sense of balance. They were learning how to give each other space, to communicate more openly, and to respect the boundaries that had once been a point of contention. Heeseung was still wary of the past, of what Iseul had been capable of when she was at her lowest, but he also couldn’t deny the feelings he still had for her. Those feelings had never truly gone away, even when things were at their darkest. And now, with every passing day, he saw more and more of the woman he had once fallen for—a woman who was growing, evolving, and becoming someone worthy of his trust again.

Iseul, on the other hand, knew that her journey was far from over. She had come to understand that her past actions were not an excuse for her mistakes, and that healing was an ongoing process. But every step forward, every small victory, was a testament to the strength she had inside her. And as much as she wanted to be with Heeseung, she knew she had to focus on herself first. She was learning to love herself, to find peace without relying on someone else to fix her, and that was the most important step she could take.

The road ahead was still uncertain, and there would be moments of doubt and fear, but both Heeseung and Iseul had come to understand that they didn’t have to face it alone. Together, they had the strength to move forward, no matter how slow or difficult the journey might be. They were learning to build a foundation of trust, respect, and mutual growth—and that was the first step in creating something that could withstand the challenges of the past.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was real. And that, to them, was enough.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Frosty the Snowman

A gift for @blanceverlast

You stole my ult bias from me and I’ve never recovered, but you’ve been an excellent friend and supporter so I’ll take that over any of my delusions I hope I did her justice.

Haseul's wet pussy dripped as she wrapped her thighs around your shaft you moan slightly too loud and Haseul politely reminds you, "We can't afford to attract unwanted attention dear," as she continues to pleasure you with her delectable thighs, you groan as her slick covers your shaft. she moans melodic as she also loses herself to the throes of pleasure. You grab her pantied ass as you thrust saying, "fuck you have the nicest ass," Haseul coos in your arms as you thrust before bringing her in for a kiss her pale white skin begins to heat up as she melts in your touch before she cums all over your cock. You groan as your balls tighten and you paint her thighs and ass with your cum. Haseul whimpers blissed out, but seeing her there so soft and undone you plunge your cock into her pussy while sliding her panties to the side. The inside of her can be best described as wet almost puddle-like. everythrust inside of her causing a splash of her slick to splatter.

"fuck fuck don't stop" she moans. You smile watching her melt even further, "I am going to ruin you," you say with a flirty hint Haseul groans as your cock ravages her insides. she can't take much more as you both plunge into another orgasm that leaves the two of you winded yet still horny, but before the two of you can there's a knock on the bathroom door.

“Um, sorry to bother you two,” a light, airy voice calls out, just loud enough to be heard over the hum of conversation and clinking glasses. The two of you get cleaned up before exiting the restroom. You see a raven-haired girl standing at the edge of the doorway, her posture demure but her presence graceful. Her eyes dart between you and Haseul as she adds, “Donny spilled wine on my dress. Could I come in to clean it?” Her tone is polite, almost apologetic, but there’s a quiet confidence in the way she holds herself.

Haseul glances at you, and you exchange a quick confirming nod. “Of course,” she says warmly. The two of you step aside to let her in. She smiles, a small, polite curve of her lips, and murmurs a soft “thank you” before brushing past and disappearing into the room.

With the matter handled, you and Haseul head downstairs, weaving through the clusters of guests as the party unfolds in full swing. Music thumps lightly in the background, and the air is filled with laughter and the occasional clatter of glasses. It’s the kind of atmosphere that feels both lively and slightly overwhelming, depending on your mood.

You and Haseul find a spot near the edge of the room, close enough to observe without being in the thick of things. From your vantage point, you catch sight of me across the room, standing by Chaehyun and Mikey. The two seem locked in a hesitant, almost shy exchange, their body language betraying an unspoken mutual interest. You watch as I step in with a calm demeanor, guiding the conversation just enough to nudge them toward each other. There’s a subtle moment where everything clicks—the way Mikey’s face lights up when Chaehyun laughs, the way she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear as she looks at him.

“Smooth,” Haseul murmurs, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

A little while later, as the scene settles and Chaehyun and Mikey wander off together, you and Haseul make your way over to me.

“That was very noble,” Haseul says, her tone warm and teasing as she offers a playful nudge.

I glance at the two of you and shrug, a small, knowing smile on my face. “They were totally into each other,” I say lightly. “The least I could do was help them realize it.”

Haseul grins, clearly enjoying the moment. “What about you, Mr. Dino?” she asks, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Why are you still going stag despite being quite the catch?”

I chuckle softly, running a hand through my hair. “Oh, um,” I start, hesitating for just a moment. “I’m just a bit too intense, I guess.”

You laugh, clapping me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, man. I get it. In times like this, you kind of have to be intense.”

I offer a grateful smile. “Thanks, Raph,” I reply, a touch of sincerity in my voice. For a brief moment, the lively party around us fades into the background, replaced by a small, grounding sense of camaraderie.

Even as I smile, though, my eyes drift toward the hallway, where the idea of a quiet guesthouse feels like a much-needed escape.

[btsgotjams27]

late nights | knj

summary: late nights with namjoon turn into a heated session when you’re in need of a stress-reliever.

✨ title: late nights (don't push your luck couple) ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ genre/au: pwp, smut, co-workers, enemies to (maybe) lovers ✨ rating: R (MDNI!!) | ✨ word count: 2.9k ✨ warnings: cursing, fingering, oral (m. & f. receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected penetrative sex, (some) begging, use of pet names (baby, darling), both are playful in their words but ofc there are feelings ✨ author's note: after watching the rpwp docu, i haven't been able to stop thinking about this man 🫦 so here's a horny word vomit. excuse my writing because it's been a minute, so i apologize in advance if it's no good 🙃 i'm also tagging @kingofbodyrolls bc i promised i would when this came out <3 <3

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | previous ~ pitch fest

Late nights with Namjoon were becoming a regular affair—for work, not for play, at least for tonight.

The pair of you crunching numbers and proposing an improved business plan for next week’s investors meeting had your panties in a twist. The past year in publishing proved to be a lot harder than expected—you didn’t realize how tough this industry was without a big name behind you.

Your nose is scrunched and your eyes are focused as you’re furiously scanning the presentation for errors. Namjoon stares you down then covers your hands with his. “Your eyes are going to pop out of your head if you don’t slow down.”

“We have too much to lose. This presentation has to be perfect or else we’ll lose the company.” As you continue on, ensuring the slides are flawless, you can only feel Namjoon’s dragon eyes burning through you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re gonna eat me.”

Namjoon chuckles and leans forward. “Because I do—want to eat you.”

You’re not gonna lie—your panties are twisted because of this presentation, but now they’re soaked too. You hate how easily you crumble under his words, but you won’t let him see just how easily you can come undone.

“I’m gonna kick you out of my place if you don’t stop,” you threaten, continuing to type away.

The wooden chair legs scraped against the hardwood floor as Namjoon stood up, his footsteps echoing behind you as he walked closer. “What exactly are you working on anyway?” he asks, leaning down so close you can smell the cologne that you love on him.

Clearing your throat, you reply with a gulp, “Just…the presentation.”

Honestly, you’ve spent too much time finding the perfect font, but does it really matter at this point? Investors won’t give you money because they liked your presentation looks, it’s about how much they’ll have in their pockets.

His presence overwhelms every hair on your body, and when his hands begin to massage your shoulders, you’re practically melting into a puddle. “You’re so tense.”

One hand continues to rub circles on your nape, causing you to groan. “Fuck…” you hiss when he reaches a knot. “Joon…” you whine.

He hums, then proceeds down your spine. The pads of his fingers wrap around your torso, dangerously close to the underside of your breasts. You’re already imagining him taking a handful and giving them a good squeeze.

Your eyes flutter shut as he continues. His thumbs pressing deeply into your back—you’re convinced he’ll leave marks just like how you do to him. It’s embarrassing when you see the red scratch marks peeking from under his dress shirt at work, however it does give you the satisfaction when he meets with an attractive author or investor and they just happen to see it as well. You’re petty and you know it.

The soft groans escaping your lips are undignified. But it goes to show just how much stress you’ve been under—you’re like a volcano bubbling, getting ready to burst and overflow, overtaking everything surrounding you, and Namjoon is the not-so-innocent bystander.

His lips barely touch the shell of your ear and he asks in a low whisper, “You okay?”

You’re not okay. You need more.

More of him. Touching you everywhere. Having you in any way that he wants. You’ll do anything no questions asked.

Your dignity—nonexistent.

Your morals, values—what the hell is that?

You need Kim Namjoon to fulfill every single fantasy you’ve had and it’s more than you like to admit.

And before you know it, your hands cover his, tugging them forward, encouraging him to do as he pleases, and he does so willingly. With ragged breaths, you relish in his touch, softly uttering his name under your breath.

Namjoon leans down from behind, kissing your shoulders and squeezing your breasts. A small whimper leaves your lips as his big, warm hand reaches down your top to the pert, pebbled nipple just aching for more of him.

You’re well aware of your actions when you chose to wear your dusty blue pajamas that match perfectly. The bow tie top is overly available for Namjoon to access. You noticed his eyes wandering throughout the night, and now you’re ready for him to strip you bare.

His plush lips leave trails of kisses down your neck, making you lean back into him. 

“Joon…” You’re embarrassed at how easily his name rolls off your tongue—maybe you’ve been practicing too much at night by yourself.

He hums before kissing your shoulders and pulling your top to feel the warmth of your skin beneath his mouth. When you turn around to look for his lips, they are drawn to each other like magnets and refuse to part. You stand, snaking your arms around his frame.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, causing you to groan. “I like you like this.”

“Like what?” you ask with an exasperated sigh.

“Whiny. Needy.” He smirks, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger, though you’d rather have something else wrapped around his finger at the moment.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

He leans in, his lips ghost over yours, barely touching. He’s teasing, wanting you to beg for it, but you don’t give in. You swipe your tongue against his bottom lip, hoping he caves and gives you what you want. He smiles against your lips, his warm breath fanning you.

“Impatient, are we?” he murmurs, his voice low and husky. You can feel the rumble of his words against your chest, sending a shiver down your spine. Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging gently, urging him closer. He resists, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His eyes are dark with desire, a challenge he wants to win.

“Maybe,” you breathe, refusing to give him the satisfaction of admitting how much you want this—him.

Namjoon chuckles. His hand slides up underneath your top, fingertips tracing your spine. “Tell me what you want,” he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.

Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers dance along your skin. The heat of his body, the teasing touches, it’s all too much, making it hard to string along coherent words.

“You,” you finally admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want you, Joon.”

His smile widens, triumphant yet tender. “Was that so hard?” he teases, but there’s a gentleness to his tone that makes your heart flutter.

Before you can respond, his lips crash against yours, passionate and demanding. The kiss is everything you’ve been craving—hot, deep, and overwhelming. Your fingers tighten in his hair as you pull him closer, eliminating any remaining space between your bodies.

His hand at your back presses you firmly into him, and you’re savoring the fact that his erection is throbbing against you. He wants you just as much as you want him.

When you finally break apart, both gasping for air, his forehead rests against yours.

“Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to fuck you tonight?,” he utters, his voice rough with lust. His hands roam your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake. You arch into his touch, craving more.

“Cocky, are we?” you challenge, your hands sliding down to his throbbing cock, giving it a good squeeze. “Just because I want you doesn't mean I wanna fuck you. What if I just wanna cuddle?” you utter the worst lie known to man. Joon knows all your bullshit.

He growls low in his throat, the sound sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Yeah? Don't want me to fuck you, hm?”

In one fluid motion, he lifts you, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. He carries you toward the bedroom, his strong arms supporting you effortlessly. As he lowers you onto the soft sheets, his dragon eyes never leave yours, burning into you with an intensity.

Your hand toys with the end of the tie on your top, slowly undoing them, slipping the top off your shoulders, revealing your breasts. This isn’t your first time sleeping with Namjoon, but somehow you feel even more exposed. You’ve denied your feelings for so long, and you think you’re ready to bear it all. Maybe even give him a piece of your heart.

“Thought you didn’t want me to fuck you?” He asks, voice proud as he cocks his head.

His eyes don’t wander down to your chest—not yet, they’re still fixated on you. He removes his sweatshirt, exposing his taut and toned body, and the black Calvin Klein briefs shouldn’t be affecting you, but they are. His gray sweats sit low on his waist, and you want nothing but to tear it off of him.

The outline of his erection is demanding attention from you—eyes, mouth, and hands ready to feast upon the dessert you skipped tonight. You’re greedy. You don’t want to share with anyone, but you won’t let him know just how urgently your mouth wants to be wrapped around his cock.

You reach out, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweats. His breath hitches as you slowly pull them down, revealing more of those tempting briefs. Your mouth waters at the sight of his impressive bulge straining against the fabric. “Joon, fuck me or leave,” you demand, voice thick with need.

He steps out of the sweats, kicking them aside before joining you on the bed. His weight dips the mattress as he hovers over you. He leans down, tugging your pajama pants off. His hand traces the curve of your waist, and his finger is hooked underneath your lace undies.

His fingers tease along the edge of your lace underwear, sending sparks of electricity through your body. You arch into his touch, silently begging for more. Namjoon’s eyes darken as he watches your reaction, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

“So responsive,” he murmurs, voice husky with desire. “I love how your body reacts to me.”

Slowly, torturously, he peels the lace down your legs, his fingers igniting glowing particles along your soft skin. You lift your hips to help him, desperate to feel his skin against yours. As he tosses the underwear aside, his gaze roams over your now fully naked body, appreciation and hunger evident in his eyes.

“Fuck—you’re so beautiful,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your collarbone. His lips trail lower down your chest. When he reaches your breast, he takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You gasp, arching into him as pleasure courses through you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, holding him close as he lavishes attention on your breasts. His hand slides down the expanse of your stomach, teasing along your inner thigh before finally touching where you need him most.

A moan escapes your lips as his fingers explore your wet folds. He groans against your skin, clearly pleased by how aroused you are for him.

“So wet for me already?” His thumb finds your clit, circling it slowly as he slides a finger inside you.

“Ah!” you gasp, hips bucking against his hand. The dual sensation of his fingers working you and his mouth on your breast is overwhelming.

Namjoon lifts his head, eyes dark with lust as he watches you writhe underneath his touch. He adds a second finger, curling them inside you as his thumb continues its maddening circles.

“That’s it, baby.”

Your body arches off the bed as pleasure builds within you. Namjoon’s skilled fingers work you closer and closer to the edge, but it’s not enough. You need more. You need him. Inside you.

“Joon,” you pant, tugging at his hair to get his attention. You no longer care about your pride. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He looks up, shaking his head. “Not yet, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “I want to taste you first.”

Before you can say anything, his mouth is on you, tongue laving through your folds. You cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he devours you. You moan louder, uninhibited, as he brings you closer to the edge. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re begging for.

He seems to understand, and with a final, deep thrust of his fingers, he withdraws them, leaving you aching and empty.

Fucking Namjoon. Of course, he doesn’t finish the job.

There’s a devious smirk on his face. He knows what he’s doing.

He removes his briefs, his impressive length springing free. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his length and giving him a few slow strokes.

Namjoon groans at your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. You flick your tongue before kissing the tip of his cock. Your lips wrap around him, taking him deeper, savoring the weight of him on your tongue. His hands tangle in your hair as you bob your head, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick, teasing licks.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hips jerking slightly. “Your mouth feels so good, baby.”

You hum around him, the vibrations making him shudder. His grip on your hair tightens, guiding your movements as you continue to pleasure him. You can feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more ragged.

Just as you think he might finish, your pace fastens.

“Baby, baby, baby…” Namjoon stutters.

You continue to bring him to the brink before he has to pull away, making you pop off.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he rasps, leaning down to kiss you.

You can still taste yourself on his tongue, and it only heightens your arousal. Your hands roam his broad back, feeling the muscles beneath your fingertips.

“Condom?” he asks against your lips.

“I’m on the pill,” you breathe. “I want to feel all of you.”

It’s risky, you know that, but Namjoon is a risk you’re willing to take.

He groans, his forehead resting against yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod, pulling him closer. “I trust you.”

His eyes soften at your words because he knows you don’t give away your trust so easily.

He leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every ounce of his emotion into it. You feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, and you arch your hips, begging him to hurry.

You both moan into the kiss, overwhelmed by the sensation when he finally pushes into you.

“Fuck—” he mutters. He pauses for a moment, his breaths slowing down. He knows he needs to pace himself or he won’t last long.

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper. Namjoon groans, burying his face in your neck as he begins to move. His thrusts are slow at first letting you adjust to his size, but soon pick up pace as your bodies find their rhythm.

“Could do this forever if you let me” he pants against your skin, nipping at your pulse point.

“Shut up.”

“Don't deny it, darling,” he persists with his teasing.

“Joon—shush!” You pull him down, crashing your lips against his, then you throw your head back, lost in the pleasure of having him inside you. Your nails rake down his back as he hits a particularly sensitive spot, causing him to hiss and thrust harder.

“Right there—” you gasp, holding in the moan you want to let out.

“Let me hear you,” he rasps.

Namjoon lifts his head, his dark eyes locking with yours as he continues to buck into you. The room fills with the sound of your moans, and the slap of skin on skin as he picks up the pace.

“Faster,” you plead, digging your heels into his lower back.

He obliges, his hips snapping against yours with increased fervor. The change in angle causes him to hit that spot deep inside you, making you roll your eyes back. It’s as if you’re flying through space, seeing stars go by as he pounds into you.

You feel the familiar tension building in your core, your body tightening around him. Namjoon seems to sense your approaching climax, his movements becoming more focused and deliberate.

“That’s it, baby,” he encourages, his voice strained with his own impending release. “Come for me.”

The pleasure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust. Namjoon’s movements become more erratic, his breathing ragged against your neck.

“Joon,” you moan. “I’m so close…”

His hand snakes between your bodies, finding your sensitive bud and rubbing tight circles. The added stimulation pushes you over the edge, and you cry out his name as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Your walls clench around him, and Namjoon groans deeply, his rhythm faltering. With a few more thrusts, he buries himself deep inside you, his body shuddering as he finds his own release.

For a moment, you lie there, panting and intertwined. Namjoon’s weight on top of you is comforting, grounding.

But the moment doesn’t last long.

There’s a loud smack.

“Ow!” Namjoon exclaims, rubbing his shoulder as he rolls on the bed, laying next to you. “What was that for?”

“As if you don’t know!” You roll over, facing away from him.

He cuddles you from behind. “Is it because I didn’t let you finish?”

Your non-answer speaks volumes.

Namjoon chuckles, throwing himself back on the bed. “You said you wanted me inside you. I was only doing what you asked. Am I wrong?”

You turn to him. “I hate you…” you say, in a sing-song voice.

He pulls you on top of him. “Oh, it didn’t sound like you hated me earlier.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” he threatens, propping himself up on his elbows.

“Gladly,” you quip before kissing him.

You’re beginning to wonder if these late nights should move back to the office, so you don’t always end up sleeping with him. Regardless, you’re sure Namjoon will push his luck.

[thesassypadawan]

Toyland (Stephen x FemReader) *Blurb*

Summary:  You’ve been good all December long, hoping that your daddy would shower you with all the toys on your wish list.  Make it a truly magical and memorable Christmas Eve for you.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut.  Bit of a dom nerd, fun toys, special ‘playtime’, and… Stephen’s cute, big dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track four of my special holiday mix, Toyland! ❤️💚

- All too familiar feeling tug, pull at the pit of your stomach.  Growing stronger and more feverish as you slip that naughty, buzzing device between your soaked folds.  Further still until it plunges into, stretches your velvety walls.  Excited, elated giggles bubbling and spilling out from around your bright red ball…gag.

- “Like your new toys, angel?”  Perched, lounging on the plush couch.  Stephen smiles smugly, knowingly over the rim of his coffee mug.  “Of course you do.”  Watching with keen interest while you wriggle and writhe on the rug, in front of the tree.  “My little slut loves it when both her stockings get stuffed extra full.”  How you squirm and kick your legs happily when…

- Clicking the tiny remote twice…high-pitched, muffled squeals echo off the living room walls in response.  The vibrations in both your greedy holes becoming greater, so powerful that the humming practically rings in your ears.  Makes your teeth chatter, brain go a tiny bit dumb.  Toes curl ever so slightly.

- “That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckles, hint of condescension in his tone.  Taking one last long sip, he sets aside his drink.  Leaning forward, looming above you.  Free hand winding and encircling his big cock.  “Now why don’t you be a good girl.”  Pumping it slowly…fat tip an angry red, glistening with snowy beads of pre oozing from the slit.  “Show daddy how much you enjoy them.”

- Eagerly you obey, fingers fumbling.  Clumsily sinking your plaything in and out of your cunny.  Thumb sloppily circling and teasing your throbbing nub.  “Go on…”  Hips twitching and rocking in time with his steady strokes; your choppy, uneven thrusts.  Desperately trying to get it to drive deeper, to kiss and bruise your aching cervix.  “Let me see…”

- Another two clicks and your eyes start to roll, vison filling with blinding stars and fading to white.  Back arching slightly off the floor, thick thighs trembling.  “Come, sweetheart…”  From the overwhelming pleasure that shoots up your spine.  The effort and strain of your bouncing body, supporting your burdening weight.  The intensity of Stephen’s hungry gaze.  “Make a nice, big mess…”

- Chest rises and falls frantically.  Shallow, deep breaths and pants escape through your nose.  Teeth biting into, leaving faint impressions in the ball gag; taste of rubber, along with all those sweets you gobbled up earlier, flooding your mouth.  “Maybe then I’ll let you open, use another present…” 

- The coil inside you is so tight, the heat stifling.  Holes flutter and clench like crazy at the sound of rapid, wet slaps.  The symphony of gruff moans, low snarls.  “One that I’m sure…”     Slick trickles down your plump bottom, dripping onto the pile of strewn pieces of festive wrapping and bows beneath.  Mixing and mingling with his juices, to create a jolly cocktail.  “My babe will love even better…”

- Yet again he clicks twice.  Causing you to scream and cry quietly in joy all because…  You're spending a truly magical and memorable Christmas Eve.  Exactly how you wanted…  Spoiled rotten by your dotting daddy…  Surrounded, dwelling in your own personal Toyland…

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @adorbzliz, @sythethecarrot, @divineani, @fuckmyskywalker, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @anakinstwinklebunny, @xhunnybeeex

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou

[cyberhughes]

— 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ jack hughes

chapter 6: jealousy, jealousy.

last chapter | next chapter

*:･✧* 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jack hughes x fem!oc

*:･✧* 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: ANGST, swearing, jealousy jack raising his voice at naomi (FUCK YOU JACK!!), drinking to number the pain, jack just being the worlds biggest asshole tbh

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: i’m so sorry for whats about to happen in this chapter lmfao😞 but thank you all sm for the likes and reblogs and overall support!! i love you all sm and it makes me happy to see that you guys are enjoying the series so far🫶🫶

series masterlist + character intros

anxiety bubbled up in naomi’s chest as she stared at herself in the mirror, applying her blush as she got ready for trevor’s party. thoughts of the other night with jack overwhelmed her mind, and while yasmin had told her it seemed fine, that she didn’t wreck anything, naomi had a strong feeling that she had affected hers and jack’s friendship.

she replayed his laughter and shock as she asked him if they could truly be a couple. hell, it wasn’t like the constant flirting was one sided, so why did he react as if it was completely out of the question?

after that night she immediately started to overthink everything, thinking that maybe her and jack’s friendship was too much, and that she was preventing him from finding someone he could really love, without feeling ashamed.

“babe, you okay?” yasmin had already finished getting ready and was sitting on naomi’s bed scrolling through tiktok when she noticed the girl being more silent than usual. naomi looked up at yasmin through her mirror, nodding and immediately smiling, not wanting her friend to be concerned. “yeah, i’m just locking in, my makeup needs to look really good.” yasmin knew better than that though.

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“WHATS UP FUCKERS!” naomi and yasmin and barely stepped through the door before being greeted by an already drunk trevor. “dude, what the fuck are you wearing?” naomi snickered as she eyes trevors choice of clothing, or lack thereof. he was sporting a pair of blue shorts with a rubber duck pattern all over, a cowboy hat, and an upside down pair of sunglasses, no shirt of course.

“my party fit, duh.” he ruffled both of the girls hair and they swatted him away. before they could continue a conversation, he was being called by a group of guys further into the house. “duty calls, drinks are in the kitchen i’ll see you hoes later!” and without any further delay he ran off hollering. “my god he is so cooked.” the two girls giggled before making their way to the kitchen to get a drink.

“hey so did you end up inviting james?” yasmin cocked a brow as she poured a mystery drink from the punch bowl into red solo cups for the two of them. “uh yeah, i told him and he said he might swing by for a bit.” yasmin nodded at naomi’s words before finishing off the drinks and handing one to her. taking a sip, naomi scanned the house, looking for one person in particular. before she could finish looking around her phone dinged from inside her pocket. yasmin peered over her shoulder, letting out a small chuckle as she read the name on naomi’s screen. “speak of the devil.” james had arrived to the house and was waiting outside, nervous about going in by himself. “you go get him, i’ll go find luke or something.” naomi nodded as they split up.

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“looking good james.” naomi approached him on the front yard and he smiled. “hey, sorry i was nervous about going in, i don’t really know anyone.” he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. “you’re good. cole is actually really excited to see you again.” she laughed and led him inside the house.

“oh wow, it’s packed in here.” he stood in shock as he observed the amount of people that filled the house, similar to those parties that would only happen in movies. they weaved their way through the groups of people, trying to find the rest of naomi’s friends. “oh i see them, come on let me reintroduce you to them.” she grabbed his hand and walked towards them.

“JAMES MY GUY!” cole had the widest smile as he stepped towards the boy, going to dap him him. “what’s up cole?” he laughed. “guys this is james, he was at my birthday.” she gestured towards the boy as they all gave their greetings. “this is yasmin, quinn, luke, i think trevor is playing beerpong, and uh…” she trailed off when she noticed that jack wasn’t there. “oh. where’s jack?” she looked towards his brothers. “i think bathroom.” quinn shrugged and luke nodded in agreement. yasmin looked over at the unease on her best friends face and opted to switch the topic. “so! who wants to go watch trevor lose at beer pong?”

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jack was making his way to the backyard after going to the bathroom, some random blonde following right beside him and yapping his ear off. he originally had left to clear his head because his brother’s and trevor had been bugging him about naomi. the conversation mostly consisting of the other guys calling him an idiot while he sulked in embarrassment. he felt really bad about the other night, he hadn’t even reached out to naomi because he was scared he could make things weird.

he had bumped into this girl on the way out of the washroom, muttering a quick apology but she stopped him from walking away, “hey, you’re jack right? I’ve seen you around.” and she’s been following him around since.

he thought his head might explode if he listened to her talk about how she was super into guys that played hockey. he felt relief as he spotted trevor and cole playing beer pong, aching to get away from this girl. “hey listen uh…” he racked his brain trying to remember her name. madison? malorie? fuck if he knew, he just wanted to make an excuse and get out of there.

as he stalled trying to remember her name, his gaze shifted onto naomi who stood beside quinn and…james? she actually invited him? he felt a slight twinge of jealousy as she watched naomi hold onto his bicep to stable herself as she laughed at the game that was going on in front of them.

“uhm, jack what were you saying?” his attention turned back to the blonde beside him. he looked back at naomi and saw that she seemed to be having so much fun with james and so he sighed, facing the blonde again. “do you want to get a drink?” he offered, not sounding very enthusiastic but the blonde ignored his tone, nodding her head. clearly she only wanted one thing from him.

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an hour or two had passed by, and naomi had yet to see jack. she was currently standing in the backyard with james, catching up on a few things and talking about their interests. naomi had learned that her and james actually had quite a lot in common, from the foods they enjoyed to their favourite movies. the conversation had taken a comfortable pause, the two simply just people watching, a habit they also shared. as she analyzed the different groups of people, imagining what their conversations could be about, her eyes fell through the kitchen window and spotted jack…talking to some girl she had never seen before.

her stomach churned, the girl was beautiful. she had her platinum blonde hair curled—not too perfectly, just messy enough. she had the perfect tanned skin and cutest outfit and naomi could feel herself frowning. she watched as jack let the girl caress his arm and whisper something in his ear. a small smirk on his face as he sipped his drink.

she turned her attention back to james, and he was already staring at her. “sorry,” he grinned at being caught admiring her. “you’re just pretty.” she smiled at his compliment, saying a small thank you. “you know, as much as my aunt is a pain, i’m glad she introduced us.” he admitted and naomi nodded in agreement. “yeah, i’m glad too.” was all she said as she noticed how his eye’s flickered to her lips. maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that jack was currently in the kitchen being felt up by a random girl, but she found herself leaning in, mirroring james. her eyes fluttered closed as they made contact, his hand reaching up to hold her face. her heart banged in her chest, but it wasn’t beating with any passion. the only thing that crossed her mind as she kissed james was, jack.

she didn’t know when she had fully come to the realization that her feelings for jack had extended deeper than a friendship. sure she’s said some suggestive things but he reciprocated them, always in a joking manner. she didn’t want it to be a joke anymore, she wanted him.

“i’m sorry…” she pulled away and tears welled in her eyes. james eyes widened as he watched her expression turn into one of sadness. “i can’t, i’m sorry.” she took a breath, trying to figure out what to say next, not wanting to hurt james. “jack.” he spoke for her and she bit her lip, nodding. “that’s okay, i kinda had a feeling there was something deeper there.” he watched the tears reach the surface and fall onto her cheeks. “hey, you’re okay come here.” he pulled her in for a hug, smoothing her hair with his hands. her breathing was jagged as she spoke, “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m crying. i think i’m just scared.” scared of what exactly? that her feelings were real, meaning she could get her heartbroken? james hushed her, telling her she didn’t need to explain. “it’s okay, don’t cry. you just gotta tell him, i don’t know how he could ever turn you down.” he pulled away, hands on her shoulders as she nodded, gaining her composure. she’d go and tell him, for real this time.

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jack had been entertaining this blonde for the past thirty minutes, surprisingly finding a few of her jokes to be a little funny, but was now starting to get fed up when she got too touchy. he didn’t want her hands on him, he wanted naomi’s.

“okay, fuck sorry but i gotta go.” he didn’t wait for a response before ditching her to go find naomi. he weaved through the groups of people, asking if any of them had seen her. after getting very useless responses, he found cole and trevor and they had told him they saw her in the backyard with james. his stomach churned at the thought of her being with james, and he pushed his way to the backyard.

he scanned the yard, seeing yasmin and his brothers chatting with some people. the backyard was a mess. red solo cups everywhere, chips scattered and people running around like headless chickens laughing at god knows what. his gaze finally fell onto naomi and he felt his breathing stop.

was that really her? he took a small step closer, feeling his heart shatter as her features became clearer. there she was, being kissed by someone that wasn’t him. his friends had been wrong, she really was joking this whole time. she didn’t want him, if she did she wouldn’t have her lips locked on someone else. as his mind raced with thoughts, his sadness turned into anger. he ran his hands through his hair before walking back into the house, shaking his head. how could he be so fucking stupid?

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after her conversation with james, naomi had ran into the house looking for jack. she was going to tell him she was tired of pretending, tired of the jokes, and that she wanted to be with him. she spotted him in the kitchen pouring himself a drink and she sighed with relief, approaching him.

“hey jack!” she jogged up to him and he looked up at her. she flinched when he locked eyes with her, a look in his eyes she had never seen before. cheeks flushed from the alcohol with a look in his eyes that could have been mistaken for hatred. “are you okay?” she paused her initial thought to confess, to question why he had looked like that. “just peachy.” he gave a fake smile and her stomach dropped. “what’s wrong with you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper. “whats wrong with me? what’s wrong with you?” he let out a dry chuckle and her eyes widened with shock.

quinn, luke and the rest of their friends had been standing not too far away, their attention turning to the kitchen as they heard jack’s question laced with venom.

“don’t look confused naomi. i saw you.” he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his drink. she furrowed her brows, racking her brain for what he could have seen her do. then it clicked. he had saw the kiss. panick set in as she stammered trying to explain the situation. “no, it wasn’t-“ before she could even start explaining her cut her off. “wasn’t what? tell me. did you kiss him and then tell him you were joking? did you lie to him? cause you’re pretty fucking good at that, naomi.” tears fell from her eyes, she felt sick. why wouldn’t he let her explain? “why are you being mean?” her lips quivered and he ran a hand through his hair, letting out a laugh. “and i thought you wanted me. that whole thing in the car? i thought you were hinting at something. i guess one guy isn’t enough for you huh?”

“hey what the fuck is your problem?” quinn didn’t let him continue, marching towards his younger brother. luke, trevor, cole and yasmin following right behind

jack didn’t pay any mind, and continued spewing venomous words out of his mouth. “i thought you wanted me but i was wrong, because now that he’s here, you didn’t waste a second before you tried to fuck him—“ he was stopped by quinn grabbing him by the collar of shirt and pushing him against the wall. “don’t.” was all quinn said, the glare in his eyes saying far more than words ever could. jack’s eyes fell back onto naomi. eyes red and a river of tears flowing down her cheeks. then it sank in, what the fuck was he even saying? it felt as if all the poison that made him act the way he did had been drained away from his body after seeing the pain in her eyes. “fuck you, jack.” she spat before running out of the house. oh god, what did he just do?

do you guys hate me or what LMFAOOO

[winterstelltales]

Coffee and Vanilla

word count: 1k

pairing: zayne x reader

summary: you just can't get enough of zayne's scent

content tags: winter setting, cuddling, loads of kisses

warning: slightly suggestive at the end

a/n: fic was inspired by post by @wolfofcelestia

The air inside the cabin was surprisingly warm. Despite the heavy snow storm raging outside, inside was filled with a cozy silence, only interrupted by the crisp sounds of the wood crackling by the fireplace every now and then. 

 The room was bathed in a pleasant glow, and the scent of fresh snow seemed to linger around, but it wasn’t enough to conceal the sweet smell of hot chocolate and the plate of cookies placed in front of you. 

 You didn’t know what it was, maybe it was your sense of awareness as a hunter that made you pick up all these at once, and you were suddenly filled with an overwhelming feeling that you couldn’t explain. It wasn’t bad, you were partly sure it was because you were overjoyed, but it still left a heavy something inside you.. With nothing to do about it, you tightened your arms around the person you were cuddling with, burying your face further into his neck and took a deep breath. 

 His scent easily conquered everything. With Zayne taking a break from the hospital for a long time in a while, he didn’t smell much like disinfectant and hospital anymore. Sure, it was still there, a faint scent that you hoped would never leave him because you had gotten so used to it and you knew you were going to miss it if it ever disappeared. 

But with his usual scent gone, only the warm sandalwood and touch of sugary scent of pastries remained, though you were certain the latter was because he had stuffed himself up with some unhealthy amount of desserts, justifying it with the excuse that it was the holiday season.

 You indulged him of course, just as he has done countless times in the past when you particularly felt like you didn’t want to follow his doctor’s orders. 

 Zayne didn’t react immediately as always, his brows furrowed a bit, one hand coming up to pat the top of your head as he observed your sudden burst of affection. 

 You both were already cuddling in front of the fireplace, unable to go out because of the sudden snow storm that had occurred. You sat sideways on Zayne's lap, head supported on his broad shoulder while his right hand played with your hands lying on your lap. 

 “What is it?” His gentle voice knocked on the door of your thoughts, his hand coming back up to wrap around your waist.

 But you weren’t capable of giving him an answer, so you took another deep breath and tightened your arms around him more. 

 You weren’t sure if you could consume someone’s scent, but you were desperate for Zayne’s. 

 “It’s not that I don’t love you hugging me, my love, but I’m having trouble breathing,” his voice sounded strained in your ear. This time, you immediately loosened your arms around him, looking up at him with apologetic eyes.

 “Sorry,” you said softly.

 The corners of his mouth turned up, “don't apologize,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a stray hair on your face.

 “Is something bothering you?”

 You stayed silent for a second, then rested your cheek on his chest, feeling the beating of his heart. 

 “No,” you said and lifted your chin, smiling, “You just smell really good.”

 Zayne pursed his lips, the tips of his ears turning red almost immediately. He was never good at receiving compliments, but that didn’t mean you were ever going to stop giving them. 

 He coughed slightly, turning his head away for a bit. 

 You traced his sweater covered chest with your fingers, drawing simple patterns, “Like a little bit of coffee and a little bit of vanilla,” you continued, nosing his slightly red cheek, inhaling his scent deep to your core. His newly shaved face was soft to the touch, and it was getting warm more and more as words left your mouth. 

A smile grazed your lips as you kissed him softly on his ear, making his breath hitched.

Zayne’s hand on your waist tightened, squeezing you in warning. The blanket covering both of you had slided off by now, exposing you to the cabin air. 

“Did you use that sandalwood soap I bought you?” you asked, adjusting yourself somewhat to straddle him. 

Now with your whole body facing him, Zayne had no choice but to look at your face with his arms resting at your sides. Adam's apple bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the gentle movement drawing your attention to his neck.

 “You’re so beautiful,” You said softly, palming his neck with your hand.

You leaned in and pecked his lips, pressing your face against his forehead.

You were certain that even if you lived a thousand lifetimes, you could never fully grasp the depth of Zayne's beauty. It was a wonder that defied time, something you could admire endlessly, yet never quite get enough of.

His hand caught yours in a gentle grip, his flustered state disappearing in a blink of an eye as he stared at you with intense eyes, gaze falling on to your lips, “Not nearly as beautiful as you.”

And suddenly you were aware of everything again, but nothing was quite as alarming as the hard thing resting underneath you. Blinking, you returned your gaze back to Zayne, eyes twinkling with excitement.

 “Oh”

“Oh?” Zayne lifted an eyebrow and before you knew it he was grabbing you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him until everything you could feel was the warmth radiating off him and his hard length resting under you. 

You support yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, mouth slightly agape as you try to calm yourself down.

Seeing you like that was enough for Zayne, his lips found your neck instantly, peppering your skin with kisses that turn into little bites and sucks. You gasp softly, letting the weight of your body fall onto him. 

One of his hands finds themself under your sweater, calloused fingers trails up your spine, rousing a path of goosebumps as you lean more into his embrace.

“It looks like I've been far too lenient with you,” Zayne’s voice low and resonant, sending soft vibrations against your neck as he spoke. 

His nose presses against your skin, inhaling and tracing a path on your neck with his teeth before whispering, “Since you seem to enjoy teasing me so much, maybe it’s time I return the favor.”

dividers by @rookthornesartistry