#more special if that makes sense? i don’t know

[elikajinnie]

HI!!! can you do the enhypen prompt 16 and 17 with jay?? thank yoouu

P: Boyfriend!Jay X Fem Reader

Warnings: Suggestive Content, Whipped!Jay, we love a man who begs

note: i had time.. so yeah :) This for all my ladies who wear lacey underwear underneath the baggy clothes ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

16. "Do you want me to beg? Because I will." 17. "One more taste, and I swear I’ll lose control."

Jay absolutely loved seeing you, no matter the occasion or what you decided to wear. It didn’t matter if it was a casual hoodie and jeans, a simple summer dress, or the formal gown you once claimed didn’t suit you—it all reminded him of how breathtakingly beautiful you were. And to Jay, there was no arguing against that fact.

He could never understand why you sometimes doubted yourself, saying things like, “I don’t feel pretty today” or “This outfit doesn’t look good on me.” To him, those words simply didn’t make sense. He saw you through a lens tinted with love and admiration, one that made every aspect of you seem flawless. Your beauty wasn’t just about how you looked; it was in the way you carried yourself, the way you laughed, the way you treated others with kindness even when you didn’t have to.

In Jay’s mind, no other woman in the world could ever compare to you. Sure, there were plenty of beautiful women out there, but they weren’t you. You were the one who made him smile just by walking into a room. You were the one who knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, who made him feel safe, valued, and loved. You were the one he’d chosen, and to him, that made you irreplaceable.

There was also a quiet possessiveness about the way he adored you. Not in a controlling or overbearing way, but in the way he took pride in calling you his girlfriend. When he introduced you to his friends or casually mentioned you in conversation, there was always a flicker of pride in his voice. Jay loved showing you off, not because he wanted others to envy him (though, secretly, he didn’t mind if they did), but because he couldn’t help being proud of the fact that you were his.

And in his heart, Jay already knew he wanted you to be more than his girlfriend one day. He often imagined the moment he would ask you to marry him, rehearsing it in his mind and wondering how you might react. He didn’t want to rush you—he’d wait for as long as it took for you to be ready to take that step. But until then, he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. To him, the title meant everything because it meant you were his, and he was yours.

Every day spent with you was a reminder of how lucky he was, and Jay never wanted you to forget how much he cherished you. In his eyes, you weren’t just beautiful; you were the kind of special that made him believe in soulmates.

He wanted you to be his forever. The thought of waking up next to you every morning, seeing you smile at him as the sunlight filtered through the curtains, was a dream he was determined to make a reality. Jay had no secrets when it came to you. He was like an open book, willingly laying himself bare in front of you, no matter how vulnerable it made him feel.

He trusted you with every corner of his soul, even the parts of himself he once thought were too messy or complicated to share with anyone. With you, there was no hesitation. If something was weighing on his mind, he told you. If he had a silly thought or a random idea, you were the first to hear it. If he made a mistake, he admitted it without shame, knowing you would never judge him harshly.

This honesty, though, also meant that his feelings for you spilled out in the most unfiltered ways. He would often find himself confessing just how much he loved you, even in the smallest, most casual moments. You could be doing something as mundane as scrolling through your phone, and Jay would blurt out, “I love you.” He couldn’t help himself really. His emotions for you were always bubbling just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest excuse to overflow.

But there was more to his honesty than just his love—there was his desire, too. Jay wasn’t shy about how much he was drawn to you, how you had this effortless ability to captivate him in ways no one else ever could. It was in the way his eyes lingered on you a little too long when you weren’t looking, or the way he would lean in just a little closer than necessary when you spoke.

Sometimes, his words would betray just how deeply he craved you. It wasn’t always something he could control, especially when the thought of you consumed him in the best of ways. You could feel it in the way his hands would gently brush against yours, as if he was trying to be close to you without seeming too eager, but you both knew better.

“I can’t get you out of my head,” he’d admit sometimes. It wasn’t an exaggeration. He often found himself lost in thoughts of you, even when he should have been focused on other things. He would catch himself daydreaming, imagining the soft curve of your smile or the way you looked when you were nestled against him, your head resting on his chest.

Jay was always ready to voice what was on his mind, he wasn’t one to hide his thoughts, especially when it came to you. He didn’t even try to filter his reactions, which made everything he said feel honest.

You had just finished drying your hair after stepping out of the shower, the warmth of the dryer against your skin leaving a pleasant feeling while the bathroom smelled of the shampoo you liked. You stood in your simple, comfortable clothes, the fabric of your loose clothes falling over your skin, paired with a pair of lace underwear that you had bought on your birthday months ago.

It had been tucked away in the back of your closet, forgotten until now. You had never gotten the chance to wear it before, so when you found it still in its bag, the tag untouched, you decided today was the day. You had ripped the tag off without hesitation, and slipped it on, and now you found yourself rediscovering exactly why you had bought it. The way it felt against your skin, the way it hugged your curves, and the way it made you feel undeniably feminine—it was all so perfect.

You stood there for a moment, lost in your own thoughts, admiring the way it made you feel. But you were quickly pulled from your thoughts by the sudden knock on the bathroom door. “Are you finished in there?” Jay’s voice called out.

You quickly turned off the blow dryer and put it away, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face as you made your way to the door. You opened it to find Jay standing there with a laundry basket in his arms, his usual smile gracing his face. But when his eyes met yours, they flickered down for a brief second and up. Then, in a split second, they darted downwards again, clearly noticing the lace peeking out from under your clothes.

For a split second, he didn’t react—his eyes widened, and you could see him processing the sight in front of him, almost as if his brain couldn’t quite catch up with his eyes. His gaze lingered for a moment too long, and it was impossible not to notice the way his expression shifted slowly. His lips parted slightly, his breath catching as his eyes darted back up to yours, now a little more intense.

“Is that... lace?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper, like the question wasn’t one of curiosity, but more of surprise.

You could see his mind working, his thoughts clearly running wild as he took in the sight of you standing there. He swallowed hard, and for a moment, you both just stood there.

It wasn’t often that you saw Jay lose a bit of his usual composure, but now, his hands tightened around the laundry basket, his knuckles white as he tried to remain cool.

“You know,” he finally spoke again, his voice slightly more strained than before, “I was going to help with laundry, but I think I need a moment.” He was trying to regain some composure, but the way his eyes never left you made it clear that the sight of you had ignited something he couldn’t easily ignore.

Jay placed the laundry basket down slowly, the sound of it hitting the floor almost too loud in the silence that hung between you both. His eyes never left you, and his body seemed to move on its own, drawn to you like a magnet.

Without a word, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer until his body was pressed against yours. The sudden closeness made your breath hitch, as his hands trailed around your waist, fingers grazing the fabric of the lace, the sensation sending a wave of warmth across your skin.

“God…” Jay groaned, the sound low and strained as his fingers gently ran along the edge of the lace, tracing the delicate pattern against your skin. His touch was tender and slow, as if he wanted to savor every second of feeling the lace beneath his fingertips.

You could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he fought to hold back, but there was no mistaking the desire that pulsed in him. “You’re killing me right now,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. The words came out almost like a confession, so unfiltered, as if he couldn’t hide what he was feeling any longer. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the side of your neck, the feeling sending a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved down, caressing the lace at your hips before pulling you even closer. The way his body responded to the touch, the way his groan escaped him, it all showed just how much he wanted you. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Unable to resist, Jay leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was gentle at first, testing, exploring. But it didn’t stay gentle for long. The kiss deepened as he lost a bit of his composure, his hands gripping you more firmly, pulling you closer to him. The heat between you both surged, and you kissed him back just as eagerly, matching his intensity.

Jay guided you across the bedroom, your bodies moving together in sync. He broke the kiss for just a moment, his breath ragged as he led you toward the full-length mirror at the foot of the bed. As he spun you around, the sudden shift in perspective made your heart flutter. Now, you were facing the mirror, your reflection staring back at you, and Jay stood behind you, holding you close, his chest pressed against your back.

For a moment, you both just stood there, breathing in sync, before Jay’s lips found your shoulder, kissing it softly while his hands slid to your waist, holding you tight as he whispered sweet compliments in your ear. “You’re perfect,” he murmured, his lips brushing your skin as he continued to kiss along your neck. “So incredible... everything about you…”

You tried to glance away from the mirror, feeling suddenly self-conscious, but Jay wasn’t having it. His fingers gently but firmly grabbed your jaw, guiding your face back so that your eyes met your reflection once more. You could feel the intensity of his gaze as he held you there, making you face yourself again.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered, “don’t look away.” His words were like a command that made it impossible to do anything but meet your own gaze. His hand remained firm on your jaw, gently guiding you while his other arm stayed wrapped around your waist, holding you securely against him. “You see what I see?” he muttered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his breath warm. “Do you see how beautiful you are?”

Your reflection stared back at you, and though you felt shy under his attention, there was something about the way he held you that made you feel secure. The way his hands moved—one tracing lazy, gentle patterns at your waist while the other stayed steady at your jaw—was grounding.

He dipped his head again, pressing his lips to your neck, just below your ear, lingering there as though savoring the moment. The sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and his grip on you tightened slightly. “Every part of you,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection, “is perfect.”

You swallowed hard, your breath hitching as you tried to process his words, his touch, and the way his gaze flicked up to meet yours in the mirror.

Jay’s breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling against your back as his lips trailed along your neck. The delicate lace seemed to have an almost visceral effect on him, his hands roaming your waist and hips. His fingers brushed against the lace, as if he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it again, marveling at the way it clung to your skin.

“This…” he murmured, his voice rough, nearly a growl, as his hand traced the hemline of the fabric. “You have no idea what this is doing to me.” He paused to take a deep, shuddering breath, his lips brushing against your ear. “You look so—God, I can’t even think straight.”

You couldn’t help but let a soft laugh escape you, the sound teasing in its lightness. “You really like lace that much?” you asked playfully, though you knew full well by the way he was reacting.

Jay groaned, his hand tightening slightly at your waist as he pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder. “Like is an understatement,” he said, his tone low and almost desperate. His lips hovered near your ear again, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with so much intensity that it made your heart skip a beat. “You have to wear more of it. All the time. For me.”

His bluntness made you smile, and you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Oh? Are you saying I should go shopping for more lace?” you asked, turning your head slightly to glance at him, your tone light and filled with playful mischief.

Jay groaned again, his head dropping against your shoulder for a moment as if your teasing was physically affecting him. “Don’t play with me,” he muttered, his voice strained. “Do you want me to beg?” His voice was shaky now, his desperation seeping into every word. He pressed another kiss to your neck before continuing, his voice barely above a growl. “Because I will. I’ll beg if that’s what it takes. Just—please, wear more of this, want more of it.”

You couldn’t help the way your smile widened at his reaction, the teasing in your expression making his jaw tighten. “Jay,” you said, feigning an innocent tone, “you’re really going to beg for me to wear more lace?”

His breath hitched, and his hands moved to grip your hips more firmly. “Don’t tempt me,” he warned, though there was no real bite to his words. His forehead pressed against the back of your head for a moment before he groaned once more, almost as if he was fighting to keep control.

“I’ll do it,” he muttered, his voice low but filled with conviction. “If it means I get to see you like this every day, I’ll fill your closet with lace. Every color, every design—you’ll have so much, you’ll never wear anything else.”

You turned slightly, your smile softening as you reached up to touch his cheek, your fingers brushing against his skin. His eyes met yours in the mirror, filled with so much love that it almost overwhelmed you.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that much lace,” you said, but your tone was softer now, playful without being dismissive.

“Try me,” he challenged you, “I’ll prove it. I’ll make it happen. Just say the word.”

Jay would do anything to show you just how much he adored you, and if it meant filling your wardrobe with lace to see you smile—and to indulge his newfound obsession—he would gladly do it, no hesitation.

.....

And he did do it. After that day, it was as though a switch had flipped in Jay. He started bringing home lace in every imaginable color and design—soft pastels, bold blacks, rich jewel tones, delicate florals. Every type he could find was soon tucked away in your closet. It was thoughtful, sweet even, a little peek into how deeply he cared about you. But his reaction every time you wore it? That was something else entirely.

You weren’t used to seeing him like this, so utterly undone, so out of touch with his usual composed demeanor. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved it. You loved the way he folded for you, how a single glimpse of white lace beneath your clothes could derail him completely. Oh, you had him hooked. So much so that every time you wore it, his eyes would darken, his breaths would hitch, and whatever train of thought he had? Gone, like it had never existed.

Lace was his weakness, yes. But lace on you? He was gone—reduced to a pleading man, desperate for just one look, just one touch. And when you finally gave him permission, the transformation was instant. His hands would tremble slightly as they reached for you, his lips brushing reverently over the fabric like it was sacred.

“One more taste,” he’d whisper, his voice rough with need, “and I swear I’ll lose control.”

But the truth? He’d already lost control. The moment his fingers skimmed the lace against your skin, he was a goner. You saw it in the way he looked at you, like nothing else in the world mattered but you in that moment. His touches grew hungrier, his kisses turned sloppy and uncoordinated. And the marks? Oh, you had plenty. They were proof of just how completely he surrendered himself to you, his passion for you spilling over in ways he could hardly contain. Jay never held back when it came to you, and the lace only seemed to amplify that desire.

It wasn’t just about how beautiful you looked in it, though that played a part. No, it was the way you made it look—how effortlessly you wore it, how it became a part of your natural allure. He was mesmerized by you, completely at your mercy, and he didn’t care one bit.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he’d groan, his voice shaky as he traced the edges of the fabric with his fingertips. And maybe you didn’t. Maybe you didn’t realize just how thoroughly you owned him. But every time he dropped to his knees for you, every time he lost himself completely in the feel of you, the sight of you, the essence of you—you were reminded of just how deep his devotion ran.

Jay was yours in every way, and he wasn’t ashamed to show it. Especially when you wore lace.

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Perm taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny

@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos

@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash

@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111

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@jakeluvrrs @firstclassjaylee @xnatqq @arclviie @aussie-boys-wife

@vvenusoncasual @bamguetismee

[tragedy-machine]

“Edwin, do you ever think about… what it’d be like if we went to school together?”

“I cannot say that I do, Charles.”

“I do, sometimes. About how life would be like if we were both alive and attending St. Hilarion right now.”

“I assume your vision does not include any of our classmates being killers?”

“Nah, ‘course not. Times are different now, aren’t they? So… what do you think?”

“Well, you would be a star of the cricket team, no doubt. And you can certainly bounce a ball without letting it fall for a very long period of time, so maybe a football star, as well.”

“I don’t know about being a star, but– cheers.”

“Of course. Indeed, given your natural charisma, one might readily surmise that people would be most inclined to gather about you. If they possessed any sense whatsoever, your classmates should eagerly seek to make your acquaintance. You would graciously give everyone the time of day, much as you do with our clients, and they would be endlessly charmed by you. ”

“Now you’re really overdoing it, mate. What about you?”

“Me? Oh. I would… greatly delight in the study of languages. I have heard it said that schools nowadays offer a wider array of them within their curriculum. Literature, too, holds a special allure for me; indeed, I might even volunteer my services in the school library, simply for the opportunity to spend more time there or attend a study club. Science has also been a source of fascination for me—chemistry in particular, I could well imagine devoting a lot of time to it.”

“Mhmm, go on.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“What of your friends?”

“I have not considered– perhaps other members of the literature club? Our recent adventure in the States have shown me that although people are decidedly still not my forte, it is possible for me to make acquaintances with them if they share my interests. If they are not dreadfully insufferable, that is to say.”

“And…?”

“And?”

“C’mon, how do we meet?”

“Oh. Realistically, I do not think our paths would cross. You would have more than enough friends interested in sports and music and other activities you enjoy, and I would never set foot near a gymnasium or a music room. We are an unlikely pair, after all.”

“...what? You don’t think we’d be friends if we were at school together?”

“I merely mean to say— as I have mentioned— with a sufficient company of good and worthy friends around you, you would have little cause to seek me out at school, particularly as we would be spending our time entirely differently.”

“Edwin, that’s horrible. A load of tosh, if I’ve ever heard one. I refuse to believe that. We could meet in class, or– maybe I’d have trouble with English, it’s never been my favorite, could never get my letters correct, could I? And since you’re so good at it, you’d offer to tutor me.”

“You believe I would offer?”

“‘Course, you’re proper kind like that, aren’t you? Or I’d ask you and you wouldn’t be able to say no to me.”

“So certain I would not be, even right from the beginning?”

“Isn’t that how our first meeting went?”

“...touché. You can be quite persistent. However, that does not mean you would have to befriend the boy who tutors you.”

“I liked you right when I met you, didn’t I? It’d be the same.” 

“You are awfully confident regarding the matter.”

“Yeah, mate. Think about it, we may be an unlikely duo, but against all odds, we met. We stayed together. And will stay together. We’d find each other in every universe, just like we had in this one.”

“...who is the one ‘overdoing it’ now?”

“Come off it, mate! But just think about it, we’d go to uni together, you’d study– English or, or Law, you’d make a great lawyer, you know, and I– I don’t know, I’d study something too, and we’d live together.”

“Would we start a detective agency together as well?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Alive Boy Detectives does not have the same ring to it. Neither does Alive Men Detectives.”

“We’d figure something out.”

[dollediary]

webcam perv! pt. 1

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in. 

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell. 

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough. 

but to heeseung, it was everything.to him, everything about her was intoxicating to him, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more. 

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

[mylovesstuffs]

Entry #02

24.01.2025 - 02:52

The fact that so many people here feel self-conscious and insecure about their smiles breaks my heart. It’s disheartening, to say the least. I know I’m here trying to comfort you all, but reading your responses makes me feel a little lighter though I know it’s cruel of me to admit. I usually don’t like to be vulnerable, not online and definitely not in public, but for your sake, and because I understand how it feels, I’ll share why I feel that way.

It’s because I’m insecure too.

To the point where COVID was a relief for me because wearing masks in public became normalized. From 2020 to 2025, I’ve been wearing a mask every single day and I'm not exaggerating.

To the point where my friends unmask me once every two months (because I don't unmask every time they want) just so they don’t forget what I look like.

To the point where I only have 12 unmasked photos of myself as a teenager.

To the point where I’ve become known as “the mask girl.”

To the point where people shame me for wearing a mask indoors and outdoors.

To the point where I’m often targeted or pressured by others to unmask myself.

To the point where my juniors have never even seen my face.

But what really hit me is realizing so many of you feel insecure about your smiles. I thought I was alone in this. For me, it’s my smile too. It’s something I’ve struggled with for as long as I can remember. It surprises me because, to me, I’ve never seen a bad smile in my entire life. Not one. Truly. People even make fun of me for finding everyone attractive and beautiful, but I do! Everyone is unique in their own way. I genuinely think everyone is unique and beautiful. What you see in the mirror isn’t what others see. People see you differently than you see yourself, they see beauty where you might not. Yet here I am, telling you this, even though I can’t seem to believe it about myself or apply it in my life. I hate my smile. I hate it to the point that I avoid it entirely. And it hurts even more because my own father has been the one to point it out. My family knows how sensitive I am about it, and they go out of their way to avoid making me feel worse. But my father doesn’t realize this. He’s told me outright several times not to smile or laugh with my teeth showing (as if I could laugh any other way).

It broke me. To know that everyone around me understood that except him. To him, it’s not a big deal. To him, he's oblivious. Though I know he has a bit of a narcissistic personality but it's not that bad. Laughing and smiling are involuntary, natural expressions of joy or amusement—things that happen without much thought. So to tell me not to smile or laugh feels deeply unfair, even cruel, when you think about it. I’ve been made to feel self-conscious about even being happy. But at the same time, I know he isn’t intentionally trying to hurt me. He’s just oblivious to how deeply his words affect me. And that’s the tricky part, isn’t it? People often don’t realize how their comments especially about something as personal as physical appearance can linger. The logical side of me knows he doesn’t mean harm. But the emotional side of me can’t help but feel the weight of those words. It’s a reminder that even the people closest to us, the ones we expect to understand us best, can sometimes miss the mark entirely.

So yeah, I guess that’s why I felt a strange sense of comfort knowing that others feel this way too. It’s not something we can always control, but maybe it’s something we can learn to embrace. And from the bottom of my heart, I know that if SEVENTEEN ever knew about this, they’d be the first to hug us. As their fans, their friends, or someone even closer to them, they’d want us to know how special we are. How beautiful we are. They’d remind us that our smiles—the ones we hate—are the ones that light up their world. Insecurities often feel like a big deal to us, even if others might think they're trivial or wonder why we're bothered by them. But the truth is, insecurities are deeply personal and sensitive, and because of that, we should really be kind and understanding toward one another.

You’re not alone. And you are so, so much more beautiful than you think.

OT13 reacting to their s/o who loves smiles but feels insecure about showing their teeth

Request: Halooo I am the same anon that req wisdom tooth drabble!!! So can I req for svt ot13 s/o that love smile but never showed their teeth cause they're insecure with it?? I do have an open bite and I do be jealous w ppl that can smile with their normal teeth 🥲🥲 Also can I be ur ⭐️ anon??

A/N: This is dedicated to all kinds of smiles—big, small, toothy, closed, crooked, or perfectly aligned. It’s easy to compare ourselves to others, especially when society has such rigid standards for something as personal as a smile. But the truth is, the world isn’t looking for perfect smiles; it’s looking for your smile—the one that lights up the people around you, the one that reflects your joy, and the one that makes you you. Whether you’re someone who shows off their teeth confidently or someone who keeps their smiles shy, you are absolutely radiant just the way you are. I hope this reaction brings you warmth, and maybe even a little courage to embrace your smile, because SEVENTEEN and I think it’s the best one there is. Thank you for reading, and remember: your smile is a gift, not just to you but to everyone lucky enough to see it! 💛

I definitely encourage you to read everyone's part, especially Minghao's.

Seungcheol: Cheol would notice right away how you always smile with your lips closed. He’d encourage you without pushing too hard, so you’d catch him saying things like, “I love it when you smile—it’s my favorite thing about you.” And when you explain why you’re self-conscious, his protective mode kicks in. In his mind, you’re perfect exactly as you are. He’d make a habit of kissing your forehead after every smile, as if to say, Thank you for sharing this with me. Warm, comforting, and always your biggest cheerleader.

Jeonghan: Jeonghan is a tease—but in the sweetest way possible. He’d catch you hiding your teeth and tease you playfully about how even your shy smile could start a fan club. But deep down, he’d be the FIRST to remind you that nobody’s smile is ‘wrong’. He’d even come up with ridiculous scenarios like, “If anyone says anything about your teeth, I’ll report them to Smile Security.” Sure, it’s dramatic, but somehow it’s comforting. With him, you’d slowly start to see your smile through his eyes: bright, genuine, and absolutely worth showing off.

Joshua: Shua’s the ‘patient and reassuring’ type. He’d never rush you into anything but would always make it known how much he loves your smile—whether or not it shows your teeth. He’d probably sit with you one evening and casually mention how he used to be insecure about something too, just to remind you that everyone has their struggles. The way he’d look at you every time you smiled? Pure love and admiration. Slowly but surely, you’d start feeling like, Maybe my smile isn’t so bad after all.

Jun: Junhui wouldn’t even let you finish explaining your insecurity before he’d start showering you with compliments. He’d be so sweet and genuine about it too, like, “What? But your smile is so pretty! Have you seen yourself?” He’d probably find little ways to make you smile more, through goofy antics or heartfelt gestures. The best part? He’d never let you feel like you had to change—he loves your smile, whether it’s teeth-showing or not. And his genuine enthusiasm? It’s impossible not to feel a little brighter around him.

Hoshi: Hoshi would make it his personal mission to see your biggest, toothiest smile. He’s dramatic like that. He'd do the silliest things to make you laugh, like impersonating the other members or dancing in the weirdest ways (mind you he's performance team leader TT). When you finally let out a full smile, he’d stop mid-act and just stare. “Wow. That’s the one. That’s the smile that could light up a stadium.” And you’d know he’s not exaggerating (even though he’s Hoshi and exaggerates everything). It’s just how he loves—with his whole heart. I'm feeling soft :(

Wonwoo: He’d notice your insecurities but wouldn’t bring them up directly. Instead, would focus on making you comfortable and appreciated. He’d probably start complimenting you in subtle ways, like, “Your smile is really nice,” or “You look happiest when you smile.” Over time, his steady reassurance would make you feel less self-conscious. And when you finally smile without holding back, he’d just give you that soft, proud look, as if to say, See? I knew it was beautiful.

Woozi: Woozi would be a mix of logical and sweet about it. He’d listen to your reasons and then quietly debunk every single one of them, like, “Who said teeth have to be perfect to make a smile beautiful? That’s nonsense.” He’d focus more on how your smile makes him feel—happy, loved, and lucky to know you. And if you ever caught him sneaking a photo of you smiling? Just know it’s because he wants to remember how happy you looked in that moment.

Dokyeom: Oh boy, Seokmin would be all over this. He lives for smiles, especially yours. He’d probably start a whole campaign to make you feel better about it, complete with compliments, funny jokes, and random bursts of Look at that gorgeous smile! energy. You’d have no choice but to smile around him because he’s just that infectious. And when you finally let out a toothy grin, he’d gasp like, “I KNEW IT! YOU HAVE THE BEST SMILE IN THE WORLD!” Dramatic? Yes. Effective? Absolutely.

Mingyu: Kim Mingyu, the man he is, would be the type to go above and beyond to make you feel good about your smile. He’d start by complimenting you constantly and taking candid photos where you look natural and happy. Then, he’d show them to you like, “Look at this—your smile could cure my bad days.” He’d probably even bring it up to the members like, “Isn’t her smile the best thing ever?” And when you roll your eyes at him, he’d just grin and say, “See? Even your eyeroll smile is perfect.” AHHGHTCGTCGCFFCCT

Minghao: Hao would be supportive and no-nonsense. He’d listen to your insecurities, acknowledge your feelings, and then remind you that nobody’s perfect. “Imperfections make us human,” he’d say, and it would somehow hit deeper than you expected. He’d probably encourage you to focus on how your smile feels rather than how it looks, and over time, his grounded perspective would help you see your smile in a whole new light. With him (with others too), you’d start to appreciate the beauty in being uniquely you.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be the loudest advocate for your smile. “Are you kidding me!” He’d probably start hyping you up every time you smiled, to the point where it becomes impossible not to feel confident about it. And if anyone dared to say something negative about your teeth? Oh, he’d drag them to filth, no hesitation I'm telling you. With Seungkwan in your corner, you’d never have to doubt your smile again.

Vernon: He would be ridiculously sweet. He’d casually drop comments like, “Your smile’s cool,” and then act like it’s no big deal—when really, he’s melting inside every time he sees it. He’d never pressure you to show your teeth but would secretly be over the moon whenever you did. And the way he’d look at you in those moments? Pure adoration. Honestly, he’d make you feel like the coolest person in the world, open bite or not.

Dino: Chan would be all about boosting your confidence. He’d give you a pep talk about how unique smiles are the best smiles and how yours is his favorite thing about you. He’d hype you up so much that you’d almost feel like a celebrity. And when you finally smiled without holding back, he’d act like it’s the greatest thing he’s ever seen. “That’s it! That’s the smile that could rules my heart!” That’s just how much he cares.

[wonboni]

ོ˚•『 SEASONS ┆L.HS

『•˙synopsis: dating probably the most handsome man came with some obstacles here in there, insecurity being one of them.

『∙˙pairing: non idol! lee heeseung x insecure! fem reader

『•˙genre: fluff,a bit of angst,comfort,happy ending

『•˙warnings: mentions of a pet name’s, insecurities mentioned,

『•˙word count: 1.1k

『•˙note: y’all sum bout heeseung

You never thought you’d be here—sitting on the couch in your living room, feet tucked under a blanket, your head resting on his shoulder. The man beside you, Lee Heeseung, is, without a doubt, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. He’s not a celebrity, not an idol (thankfully, you think), but there’s something about him—his smile, his eyes, his laugh—that has you feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

But sometimes, the world around him makes you feel… small. Heeseung had always been naturally charismatic, with the kind of looks that could turn heads wherever he went. And you? Well, you were just you. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself it didn’t matter, there were days when the insecurity crept in, like a heavy cloud threatening to dampen everything.

"You're just so… perfect," you whispered one evening, your voice tinged with doubt. Heeseung was sitting next to you, scrolling through his phone, likely reading the thousands of messages and comments that fans left for him every day. They loved him—adored him. And sometimes, when you saw how easily they showered him with praise, you couldn’t help but wonder how he’d even look at you.

His fingers stopped scrolling, and his gaze immediately landed on you, sensing the tone in your voice. "What do you mean, baby?" He had that soft way of calling you "baby" that always made your heart flutter. But tonight, it didn’t feel as reassuring as it usually did. It felt heavy, the uncertainty gnawing at you.

You shrugged, trying to shake off the thoughts but failing miserably. "I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like I’m not enough. I mean… you’re so, well, perfect and I’m just… me."

Heeseung tilted his head, a little confused, but his expression quickly softened with understanding. He placed his phone down, focusing entirely on you. "Babe," he said, his voice steady, as though trying to anchor you in this moment, "you’re more than enough. You’re more than everything I could ever ask for."

But your insecurities were stubborn. "But Heeseung, look at you. You’re always getting attention. People love you, admire you, and I’m just…" You paused, unsure how to even finish the sentence.

Heeseung gently cupped your face, lifting your chin so that your eyes met his. His gaze was warm, sincere, and there was an undeniable tenderness in the way he looked at you, as though you were the most precious thing in his life. "And that’s why I love you. Because you don’t need to be anything other than you." His thumb brushed across your cheek. "I’m not perfect, and neither are you. But together, we make something pretty damn special."

"But… it’s hard," you admitted quietly, feeling the weight of the comparison you couldn’t shake. "Sometimes, I just feel like I’m not worthy of you."

Heeseung let out a soft sigh, pulling you closer so that you were nestled against his chest. "Listen to me, my little marshmallow," he said, and you couldn't help but smile at the ridiculous pet name, but it warmed your heart. "You are more than enough for me. You’re perfect the way you are, and that’s exactly why I’m here with you. Not because of some image the world has of me, but because I see you—and I love every little thing about you."

You shifted slightly, still feeling unsure, but the weight of his words was beginning to lift the burden you carried. Heeseung always had a way of making things feel lighter, even when they were heavy.

"You're the one who makes my world brighter," he continued, his voice softer now, but still full of conviction. "I’m with you because you make me happy. Not because of your looks, or your achievements, or anything like that. I’m with you because you are you—and that's everything to me."

You leaned into him, the warmth of his embrace feeling like a safe space from the whirlwind of insecurities in your mind. "But I’m not perfect," you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Heeseung chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Of course, you’re not perfect. But neither am I. And you know what? I’m perfectly fine with that. I love you for your quirks, for your flaws, for your silly little habits. I love the way you laugh, the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking. I love everything about you, even when you’re being your clumsy little self."

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling the warmth of his affection sink into your chest. Heeseung always knew how to make you feel like you were the most important person in the room. "Clumsy little self, huh?" you teased, nudging him playfully.

He grinned, his eyes lighting up with that familiar mischief. "Yep. And I love that about you. You’re my perfect mess."

You laughed, a genuine sound that felt so freeing. And for the first time in a while, you realized how true his words were. You didn’t need to be perfect to be loved. In Heeseung’s eyes, you were already everything he could ever want.

The next few weeks were a journey, but Heeseung remained by your side, constantly reassuring you of his love. He would send you sweet texts, always ending with little pet names like cutie-pie, sugarplum, and baby bear. The way he would call you those silly names, teasing you playfully but always with so much affection, made you feel cherished in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.

One evening, after a long day, you found yourself in his arms again, the warmth of his presence washing over you. "Heeseung," you whispered, "do you really think I’m perfect?"

He smiled down at you, his fingers gently combing through your hair. "I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. And that’s more than enough."

And in that moment, wrapped in his arms, you realized just how true those words were. In Heeseung’s eyes, you didn’t need to change anything. You were already perfect to him—imperfectly perfect, and that was all that mattered.

From that day forward, you still had moments of doubt, moments when insecurity tried to sneak in. But Heeseung was always there, reminding you with his soft words and affection that you were enough. And in his love, you found the confidence to believe it yourself.

In the end, it wasn’t about being perfect—it was about being loved just as you were. And that love, in all its imperfect, beautiful, and warm glory, was enough to fill your heart with happiness every single day.

©️ WONIBONI

[heaurtbeatings]

MAYBE WE’LL LOVE IT

Marriage is a difficult thing to decide on .. or, you finally say yes

600 WORDS - GN READER - FLUFF, NO CWS! ★ ׂ .

AUTHORS NOTE & MORE . .

sighs dreamily. oh how i love the idea getting married. might write the wedding.. be prepared who knows!

You had rejected the reality of marriage, at least for yourself. The idea of getting asked the big question, the venue and planning, walking down the aisle while staring into the eyes of the love of your life with a crowd of eyes watching. It was all so loving and peaceful, but you had settled on the fact that it was not your destiny. It was something that felt right to ignore until you had finally met someone who had you contemplating what your heart truly wanted.

“You know how I feel about this. I mean, like—“ you breathed out, running a hand through your hair as you stared up at Schlatt. It wasn’t uncommon that you spent late nights, or early mornings, in bed talking about your doubts with moving forward with him. Schlatt was an amazingly good listener, which surprised you at first with how gruff his persona was to outsiders, but it made you fall more in love with the sides of himself he chose to share with you. “Okay, but what if we do it and then I fall out of love.. Or you want to travel and work and do more, and I don’t want the same?”

“Then we figure it out.” He whispered as he placed a firm kiss to the top of your head. “You haven’t gotten that bored of me yet, right? So we figure it out.” He watched as you thought, smiling to himself as you shifted to hold his hand in yours. Imagining picking out wedding bands, carving out initials into the inside of them, exchanging rings at the altar. It all made your stomach burst into butterflies.

“But with me? Are you sure? There are so—“ you sighed softly as Schlatt silenced you with a shake of his head. He knew you as if he was connected to your heart, as if you two shared a brain. You knew he found it amusing when you kept going back and forth with yourself, trying to make sense of it all when you already knew what you wanted. It was his special skill: reading you like a book.

“This is big. I mean super duper big.” You spoke.

And I want big with you, toots.” He replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Whaddya’ say? Gonna be my missus or what?”

“Oh yeah?” You asked in a flirtatious tone, laughing as you leaned in to lay on top of his chest. You could feel his body jitter as he chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah.” He said with a smile as big as ever as he took in your flushed face. “You know I got more than enough money to get you a big ass diamond if that’s whatcha’ want.”

“You’ve got such a way with words, y’know that?” You choked out through your laughter. Schlatt was it; you knew he was, and you knew what it meant. No more rejection, no more doubt, and no more running from the reality of what your heart chose.

“Okay..” you paused, settling in on the reality of what you were agreeing to. “Okay, yeah.” You watched as Schlatt eyed you in confusion.

He sat up on his elbows, nodding as he looked at you with surprise when he pieced together what you said. “Yeah?” He asked, mildly unsure if you were trying to trick him or if you had finally figured it out.

“How many times do I have to say it? Yes, I’ll do it with you.” You muttered, leaning in to kiss him. “I’ll marry you, dummy.”

[my-mind-mansion]

A slow, peaceful morning in bed with the Radio Demon

(Alastor x reader/cuddles/motivation/care)

{Since my bedtime fic got a few likes, I wanted to post it’s sister story. Hope you all enjoy my imagination!! Requests/story ideas??}

It was about an hour before you had to be up for the day and you were sound asleep in Alastor’s bed. He had let you sleep in his room last night. You were honored. You felt a hand in your hair, gently petting you. You could feel yourself waking up, leaving your dream realm to be met with Alastor’s kind smile. You gasped and nearly panicked. “Oh no!! Am I late?!“ you started to sit up.

Alastor gently pushed you back down on the pillow. “Shhh.. there’s no need to worry, my dear. I made sure you were awake in plenty of time. You can relax for a bit in my bed before you actually have to get up.” He said as you caught your breath from the adrenaline rush of thinking you were late.

He chuckled softly, inching closer to you and pulling you into his chest. He put a hand in your hair and his other hand on your back. “Give yourself a deep breath for me, dearest.” He said, his radio-filtered voice bringing you the warmest sense of comfort. You took a deep breath and then a peaceful exhale. That felt good. Your heart calmed as he rubbed your back.

You smiled up at him as your body was nearly limp in his arms already. He smiled down at you, speaking soft sentences to soothe your soul. “Good morning, sweetheart. I trust you slept well!” Your heavy eyelids, still fresh with sleep, were fighting to stay open. He chuckled under his breath as he played with your hair, encouraging you to take another deep breath.

You were so relaxed in his arms. You were basically drunk on him. The radio host had you under his spell as you clung onto every word he spoke. “I once read a story about a flower that blossomed and thrived, despite its poor environment. It rarely got watered and it’s pot was way too small. The poor bud was neglected and abused, but somehow the lovely bloom persisted on.” he rubbed your back.

You had been smiling up at him. He was so charming and knew how to evoke whatever reaction he was seeking. He continued on. “That flower is you, my dear. Despite all your troubles and heartache, you continue on. I’m so proud of you. You are so important to me. I wouldn’t let anyone else sleep in my bed, you know.” You blushed slightly as you nodded off, teetering between sleep and wake. Alastor chuckled as he noticed. “It’s alright, my delicate rose. Close your eyes. You have time.”

You had immediately fallen back asleep in his arms; all part of his plan. He had given you 30 minutes to go back to sleep after waking up. Those 30 minutes felt more like 4 more hours. When he roused you awake for the second time this morning, you smiled and sat up. You were feeling refreshed and relaxed.

You stretched and dangled your feet over the edge of the bed, smiling back at him. “Ready to finish that to-do list?” he asked rhetorically, cheering you on. How out of character for Alastor to actually be supportive and encouraging. He snapped his fingers and your favorite breakfast appeared on a tray next to you.

You weren’t sure if Alastor was giving you this special treatment in order to manipulate you, or if he had ulterior motives. All you knew was you were really enjoying the attention, and didn’t care if he didn’t actually mean it.

He set out your clothes and shoes for the day as you ate the personalized breakfast he had made according to your taste. “You.. really don’t have to do all of this for me.” You said, slightly flustered as he knew the exact outfit you wanted to wear today. “I know. I only aim to make your life easier, dear. It’s my own personal responsibility to care for you.” He said. Slightly concerning, but oddly sweet?

[sinstear]

first of all, the fact you wrote me a 14k fic for my birthday is insane?????? and this is genuinely the best gift ever, im being so serious. i can’t even pick parts because everything about this is so beautiful. so poetic, even with the heart shattering angst. im literally still at a loss for words because it’s so fucking beautiful that i can’t even comprehend you wrote this for me, my own little fic????

the angst and comfort that tie in together is so heavenly and deadass so special to me, then there’s the self doubt, the words of other people, trying to warp your mind and hoping it changes their opinion of the one they love, but beneath and in between is the comfort, ugh my heart right now. hope you don’t mind me just yapping about how perfect this is <3

hazel when i see you .... girl it will be over for you. stand down dog, get away from my girl excuse you???? how dare you speak to reader like that?? TO ME LIKE THAT??? GIRL DIE.

there’s something so comforting about the way you write angst, and i know angst is sad and heartbreaking, but you write it in a way that also comforts me? i hope that makes sense, because it makes sense to me <3 you’re literally my own shakespeare, my vifilmsspeare if you will :tehe: write me in my next life, deal?

as i said, i love everything about this fic, and i mean everything but the fact abby pushes herself closer to reader even though she knows reader has so much self doubt, especially with the way they left things, or how things ended between them, she still wants them, that she’s willing to push everything aside to save the person she loves, to save them from making the same decision that destroyed them both before, hurts yet fucking heals the shit outta me.

can we also talk about ellie and her supporting abby through anything, including her want and need to be with reader again? because as much as they hurt, they’ve hurt each other, they still need each other, like a life line and im just sobbing into my keyboard, chat. none of you understand, none of you understand just how much i adore rays work, her fics, her little worlds she creates for all of you and i genuinely could sit here for hours to tell you just how amazing and perfect this is, all her work is.

and i can’t even begin to express how much i love this. i don’t think there will ever be enough words in the english language to describe how much this fic means to me, it means more to me than i think i could ever express. i hope you know how much i love and treasure you. not just for your work but you as a person too. you’re amazing, and i truly wish you would see that. you are the best thing and i want you yo know how much i love you.

this fic is a beautiful and special gift, but having you in my life is an even greater gift, and i thank you. i thank you for a lot of things, and im sure you know most of them already without me having to explain them. thank you for this, thank you for writing an entire fic for me, with so much meaning and not even knowing how special it is to me. thank you for everything you’ve done to help me, thank you for being there for me, thank you for everything and i mean that. from the bottom of my heart, thank you and i love you so much. 🩷🤍

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY

feat. contractor!abby x exgf!reader

content warning. eighteen+, smut, angst, some fluff sprinkled in, devastating dykes, nickname for reader (cherry), jealousy, long lost love trope, hazel (spoiler alert, she’s a cunt), just an emotional ass fic.

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY, she was the healing in a world that struck so much pain, a life you would like to forget, but can you truly forget just how much you loved her?

rayray sesh. been working on this baby for over a month and i’m very happy to post it on time! happy birthday, pookie — @sinstear ♡ this is my special crafted gift i wrote just for you on a day to celebrate just how amazing you are. erenboo, you deserve all the love in the world. i hope you enjoy this as much as i took joy in writing it for you. my love, sweat, tears, and cum are laced in it. special delivery. i love you so much, bub. always and forever.

✶ special shoutout to @hypnagogics aka my co-yap captain. thank you for proofreading my bigger projects. you are a godsend. my nonsensical typos would surely make it if it wasn’t for you. mwahmwah! you’re the sweetest, ily ♡

✶ header heavily inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners

word count, 14k.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞

The more you try to hide from it, the harder it’ll be when you face it — at least those are the words Abby had heard from her old man for as long as she could remember. Suddenly, nearly thirty-years later, they reverberated in her mind like a ring of a bell. A vibrating reminder of how her life remained the same, your love having limitations, requirements she never could have been aware of at the ripe age of eighteen. 

All she needed was more time, more understanding, and a patient heart that was never reciprocated. On a day like today, she’s reminded of 

In Jacksonville, there wasn’t much going on, and talk travels faster than the speed of lightning. Murmurs of your return started the moment Dina found out, then it spread like wildfire. All of it feels just like yesterday but the spring of her youth is a far cry away, just dust and bones to be found on the ashes of adolescence.  

If the world was perfect, Abby could avoid all of this. 

Maybe if her life had turned out the way she envisioned. 

But it didn’t and neither did yours. Not as of late. Although Abby had to be tightlipped about it, business and pleasure entangled, all of that nonsense floating around her pretty head. A voice she once thought she had forgotten comes back with a violent need to be recognized, a calming notion before it punches her in the gut. 

Not to mention, she just had to be on your father’s payroll, had to face the person she was never good enough for. All of it feels nauseating. Excruciating. 

Reminder of a wound she’s never recovered from. Memories high and low come flooding, and with you in her line of vision, it only gets worse. 

Way fucking worse. 

“What is she doing back?” 

“As if anyone would want her here.” 

“Abby, was she even supposed to be here?” 

The questions pile along with the bile collecting in the back of Abby’s throat. The pit in her stomach manifests a black hole, feeling herself succumb to the spin of everyone’s empty threats spilling from her friends to you. Abby can tell just by the way you’re downing the glass of champagne and picking up the next, coming here wasn’t your choice.

If you could have helped it, you would have never come back in such a public setting.  

“Abby, are you listening?” She sighs, but still unable to take her eyes off you. 

“Do I need to rea—” 

“Yeah yeah, all of you hate them. I get it.” 

“It’s not that simple. They aren’t good for you.”

There’d been murmurs through the small town of your return. That’s what happens when your mom gets sick, you come home and that you did. The anniversary of your parents, forty years strong, is the first public appearance. The absence of your brother’s appearance isn’t talked about, it’s brushed over, just like everything else, just like you. 

“Yep, I got it.” 

“I’m just looking out for you. They don’t appreciate you and—” Abby shoots her a knowing glare, annoyed with the intrusion of everyone thinking they knew best instead of herself. 

“Yeah, like I said, I hear you, but you don’t fucking know her. Neither do I, certainly not anymore.” 

Running a hand through her blonde-glistening locks, the sunset saturates her golden as she ignores Hazel, taking a sip of her beer as she takes you in. Everyone always has shit to say about you. Your parents, her friends, Abby’s parents, but no one really knows you. 

It’s not easy for you to let people in, you seem as harsh as can be to others, but Abby knows you’re quite the opposite. 

Different from everyone in the room, a polished cream suit and open collared button up shirt with your delectable collarbones exposed, your rings twinkle as you pet the husky, one you don't know belongs to Abby. If you did, your hand might feel repelled. 

It’s what you always wanted. A life out of here, out of the small town where you’ve always felt judged, persecuted, even ostracized when you came out — and you succeeded — leaving Abby behind in the process. Even if you didn’t intend to, it sort of just…happens. We leave the ones we love behind, even if it’s our last possible intention. 

Goodbye notions simmer and we forget about the love we once had. 

“Hazel, Dina was asking for you, she mentioned needing some help finding JJ’s pacifier?” 

“On it!” Abby chuckles as the cherry-haired girl flees into the other direction as Ellie laughs harder when she’s gone. 

“You’re welcome. She's like a dog with a bone when it comes to your beautiful ex-girlfriend.” 

“Watch it. Calling another woman beautiful, Dina might just skin you alive.” 

“Nope. She loves me too much.” 

Ellie chuckles as they watch you down another glass of champagne. Freeing your hair from the tight bun, your hair springs to life as it falls around your shoulders, framing your jawline as piercing eyes find the weeds poking through the freshly cut grass. 

A few people had offered up a sloppy introduction, a grievance of pity, before returning to their groups. Anxiously, you tear at the loose thread on the cuff of your sleeve. It gets longer and longer, avoiding everyone watching you. 

Pretending you don’t exist. You never do. Not in this wretched town where all dreams get sucked into a bottomless pit, where believers go to die. 

Abby nods, the feeling builds in the pit of her stomach as she yearns to get closer to you. Even after all the hurtful insults thrown her way years back, she’s conflicted. A missile is thrown into her life with your arrival and all of her friends, besides Ellie, tell her not to fall back into old patterns. Not to fall for your charm, not to be a victim to reckless love. 

The kind that left her empty for years. Abby knew the moment she fell, from the very first time they met, if you ever left her she’d never be the same again. You don't forget a love like this. It tears a hole within you before you even get a chance to think about it, their presence consuming your entirety, an empty promise of endless salvation dies on the tip of your tongue. 

Impossible shoes to ever be filled. 

Truly, Abby thought she had been in love before you, but she wasn’t. The feeling she’s been chasing for the rest of her life returns when she looks at you. Those bright eyes when you play with the pup, the gentle hand as your scrap his chin with the crescent of your blunt nails. 

She feels more looking at you for one moment than anyone she’s dated after you. 

It’s sickening. 

Still, her friends ridicule her any chance they get. Telling her of what you’re like, how you hurt her, what you’ll do when your claws sink into Abby. It falls on a hyper fixated heart. She can’t think of anything when all the blood comes rushing to her head, how beautiful you look when she sees you anxiously biting your bottom lip, something you do when you’re attempting to stop the tears from spilling. 

None of them knew what it meant to look in your eyes and wonder how someone so good couldn’t recognize the purity in your eyes, the love you give out when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. They didn’t see the years of torture, the family that wasn’t so perfect, the anger you held wound so tight. You didn’t have anywhere to put it. Never could. Not when the image of the perfect daughter is meant to be upheld. 

Not a soul knows the information Abby does. There’s nothing more you love than to hide in the shadows, hoping to be forgotten, how you nearly crave to be eaten alive if it means an end to your misery. It isn’t lost on her how much she wants to shield you from it all. 

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” 

Ellie points the glass of wine she’s been nursing to you, watching as you excuse yourself into the empty guest house. Your body is still viewable through the tall glass windows, your body disappearing from the common area of the small home. The exact one she’s been renovating per your mother’s request. 

“She’ll just—” Absentmindedly, Abby kicks the dirt with the toe of her boot, rooting her heel in the ground as she bites the wall of her gums, trying to center herself. Attempting to not let her mind wander into what if’s, what could have been. 

“What? Figure out you’re scared?” 

“I’m not scared.” Sighing into the palm of her hands as she can’t help but bite into Ellie’s comment, “It’s been years. For all I know, Cherry hates my guts. Not that it fucking matters, but I’m the last person they want to talk to. Plus, when she’s upset the last thing they want is to talk.”  

“You’ll do just fine, can’t be too bad. They were always sweet on you.” 

“It’s been years, Hazel’s right, in some sense I—” 

“Please, even you know the only thing she wants is to get in your pants. That part is lost on me, you’re too beefy for my taste.”

“Some people like that, dick.” 

“Your girlfriend sure did.” 

“Ex-girlfriend.” 

The rest of the night Abby avoids all of her friends, especially the meddling junkie, Hazel; fucking hazel. She wouldn’t let her rest. They never had done more than share a friendly hug and for some reason she always looked at Abby like she hung all the stars spreading across the galaxy. 

“Are you going to let Hazel think she has a chance forever?” 

Abby just shakes her head in omission. 

“There’s no chance, I’m not—” 

“Abby! I got you a glass of lemonade. Sweet with just a few cubes of ice, just the way you like it!” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows at Abby as if she has proved her point. 

As soon as Hazel turns around, Ellie goes right back to the pitch of her ex-girlfriend, trying to sell Abby on the past. The only woman Dina and her had liked in her mess of a dating scene. A long line of hookups, one serious relationship that ended so horrifically the cops had to be called, and then there was Hazel. A naive girl who had been harboring a crush for nearly a year, the time Dina had adopted her into their little makeshift family. 

You walk out of the guest house more comfortably. A pair of dark denim and a black graphic tee with the sleeves cut off. Abby smiles at how much you look like the woman she fell in love with, the youthful ache she still feels with every beat of her heart. The one you crushed in the palm of her hands without thinking twice. 

Abby’s throat constricts when you catch her staring, quickly looking away, biting at your fingernails before your father introduces you to the new neighbors. 

“What’s so important, Hazel?” Ellie bites. 

Hazel ignores her. All she can see is Abby looking right at you. 

Abby had realized she completely zoned out, her energy and focus harbored on you. Five minutes within your arrival and her head was already feeling the rapid hum of her heartbeat caught in the bottom of her throat as you looked at her again, just for a second longer before you turned the other direction, away from her gaze. 

“Abby—” 

Abby hums absentmindedly with you on her mind, infecting her thoughts like a former addict getting their first fix for years. The high. It feels even better than her mind could remember. The curious gaze in bright eyes feels intoxicating, too good to be true, and the fall feels higher than it ever was to begin with. 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s coming over here.” 

It only takes a few minutes before Abby takes a swig at her beer, wipes the sweat collecting on the palm of her hands. When you get closer, she notices the engraving of A.A. engraved on a glimmering silver ring. 

Did you keep it after all this time? 

“Tell her to leave—” 

“Hazel, for the love of god, would you shut your mouth?” Ellie barks as you make your way over to Abby. 

Abby tries to make her resolve hard, icy even, but it’s not. Her electrified blue eyes are warm, full of curiosity and wonder, her freckled cheeks are flushed from the heat of the sun and her barely there grin has you offering one of your own. 

“Abigail, hey.” 

Abby is surprised you hug her and she doesn't want to accept but it feels too rude not to. But the second her arms envelop around your body you fit perfectly into her. Just like all those years ago, you’re everything she loves. Like no time has passed, as if you didn’t rip her heart and stump out the love it once held. 

“It’s just Abby now.” Hazel interjects. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know, Abby, right.” 

“How could you? You’d have to be around—” 

Ellie gently elbows Hazel in the stomach, trying to silence her best efforts to scare you away from the treasury stock of a blonde she believes to be hers. 

“Abby, sorry. I’m just—” 

“You’ve always called me, Abigail. It’s alright. Promise.”

There she is. 

The charm that makes you fall when you don’t need to. It’s laughable that Abigail can make years of therapy, years of dating other people to get over her seem like a dream, as if it’d only just been the two of you all of this time. Like nothing had changed. 

But everything has. 

“Um, do you mind if we talk in private?” 

Abigail follows your lead into the empty house, the party rages outside as the two of you sit in the living room, neither of you knowing what way to take your best foot forward. 

“Sorry if I made things awkward with you and your girlfriend—” 

“Oh, uh, she’s not….we’re not dating or anything.” 

Shit. 

You wish she was. 

Abby doesn’t know what to think when the expression on your face wasn’t instant relief but instead turmoil within yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed as if you expected her to be in a relationship. It would leave you to escape from the overflow of feelings you had rushing through your core. 

“You look shocked.” 

“I just—” You bite your lip, looking anywhere but her, trying to put your best foot forward, like your father says, he’s the whole reason this conversation is even happening. “I can’t lie, it would have made this…easier? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” 

“What are you trying to do?” Abby has a bubbly laugh threatening to burst but she swallows it for the sake of your dignity. 

“Okay, well that’s not nice.” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Well, my dad he just thought that—” 

“Wait, you’re talking to me because of your dad?” Abby stands up from the couch, rubbing her hands over her flushed face. “Not even because it’s been years, but because — well, why?” 

“He was just encouraging me. I’m nervous, isn’t that fucking obvious? I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m eighteen again.” 

She’s standing at her tall height, looking down at you as you begin to cry. 

Well shit. 

“Hey, hey—” Abby sinks to the floor on her knees, her body between your legs. “C’mon, there’s no need for all of that.” 

“I hate that you haven’t changed.” 

“Did you want me to?” 

No, you say just to yourself. Not trusting the waver of your voice to give her the truth. There’s always so much on the line with her. Everything feels heavy, final, an anchor to hold you down but also drag everything you are, tangled with her sweet, honey-filled baby blues. 

“Can’t you be mean to me or something? Even the playing field a little bit.” 

“Not even a little, sweetheart. We both know I never could.” Her fingertips trace your forearm, a shiver courses throughout your body, “I will admit, everyone says I should.” 

“They’re right. I deserve it.” 

“If we all got what we deserved, well, that would be such an ugly world, wouldn’t it? Just because you did something hurtful doesn’t make you cruel. It makes you human.” 

“But I do deserve the cruelty.” 

“Fine, I hate you.” Abby says with a smirk on her face, wiping away a stray tear, looking too fondly on the woman who broke her heart. She’s too kind for her own good. 

The giggle Abby omits rivals sunshine. 

“I just didn’t want it to affect the work on the house, everything between us, it’s complicated and I’ll be in the guest house while my mom’s—” 

“I know, you don’t have to say it. Your dad may have mentioned it to me. I’m sorry, I truly am.” 

“I am too. For everything. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I was so young, scared, and I wanted you to hate me. It just seemed easier than having you actually miss me.” 

“I did miss you.” Abby's warm palm might as well be burning your denim jeans through as she touches your thigh. “You could have done the worst thing imaginable and I still would have. I’ve never had, uh, reason with you I guess. Love doesn’t know scorn, like a child with a knife, even if you can get hurt — sometimes it’s worth it.” 

The stars in her blue eyes hold the same light in them, too full of love, her older and refined spirit lays beneath them and she has become someone you have even more love for. It’s too damning. Abigail Anderson has always been more than you can handle, always outshining everyone in this small town even if she couldn’t see it for herself. 

“I’m surprised you came back for them, you know, after everything.” 

It’s not just them. 

“They say she doesn’t have a lot of time, so—” You sigh heavily into your palms, “And that’s not your problem, but thank you for being so cool about everything. Maybe we can be friends?” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Abby knows neither of you can’t. It’s never worked out that way. It’s all or nothing and she’s always been the all-in type of girl. She loves big, not caring if her own heart gets trampled in the process. 

Her love blinds like the sun, but it settles over your heart like the moonlight kissing the waves — you just hope the tide is strong enough to bring you home.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ❞

The first few weeks back at home felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as you disdained being home, the cracks of your family nearly breaking you in the process, you had her. 

Even if you didn’t really have her. 

The definite silence was not so, Abby still soaked in her warm heart, the one you hoped she kept. The best part of her. She’s too kind, even when you don’t deserve it, she still freely gives it. 

It bleeds into her work. 

Clearly, your father was more than fond of her. Several occasions they would be chumming it up, your father even grilling a few patty hamburgers up for them both when the clock struck noon. They always did love her, possibly even more than you, but to say they were devastated about the break would be a tragic understatement. 

Get her back. 

She’s a prize in this town. 

Abigail Anderson is the best you can do, you’re not doing better than Dr. Anderson’s daughter. 

But you never did try. You trusted the universe as a sign given. The people driving you out of this town sided with the woman you had broken up with, so you left and didn’t look back twice. 

Yet, she did, in more ways than you were even aware of. 

Because of her stupidly built physique, you couldn’t stop looking. 

Anchored into the heat, her muscles constrict as she helps the crew demo the tile of the master suite, the last touch of the renovation needs. Besides the final paint job in the guest house, Abby had finished it all. In all honesty, Abby was hoping all of it would be complete by the time you arrived back in town. Being around you on a daily basis, her friends telling her it’s only a matter of time before she’s back in your arms, it feels like a slap in the face. 

As if she has no self restraint. 

To be fair, she doesn’t. 

Abby’s gone to lunch with you three times, had coffee with you once, and she exhibits her obsessive memory — still having your order memorized — even if it's the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard of. She still finds herself stuck between your teeth like cotton candy. 

It’s all friendly, supposedly, but it’s the easiest thing to slip back. 

Old habits do die hard. 

Right now, you’re just watching her work. 

You’ve been doing it a lot lately. 

Out of habit, nervousness, maybe it’s the anxiety flooding through your bloodstream. All of this feels erasable. Too much thrown at you, with her, it always happens to be too irreplaceable. 

The ghost you’ve been running from, the one that hides in the shadow, even if you’ve tried to stay on the path you’ve created. Dug from the ashes of all your failures, she’s the one thing you haven’t made right. The nights where you got too drunk, nearly texting her or calling her, the picture you still curated in a specific folder, the one you would look for when you’re the weakest. 

Being back in your hometown, the first person who ever truly loved you, it feels suffocating. 

It doesn’t help that she looks so good. Or that she’s even kinder. The love in her eyes is even more whole-hearted than they were ten years ago. Part of you tells yourself you couldn’t even help yourself if you tried. This is just how it’s supposed to be. The heartbreaker pining for the woman’s heart you shattered into pieces. 

All it took, a few cups of coffee and Abby taking you to lunch and paying — it feels awfully like a date but you keep your mouth shut. Her being present in your life is already confusing enough; the added weight would just be unbearable. 

But after today, you won’t see her again. Painting the final room in the guest house is the last duty she has to fulfill and the renovation is done on your parent’s property. The ache in the pit of your stomach is unsettling as you attempt to simmer through and wonder why the pain becomes so deep. As if the woman in front of you was scorning you alive. 

“You need something or are you gonna stare at me all day?” 

You watch Abby throw the paint roller back in the tray, running the brush in the sage green, before turning the attention back to the wall, waiting for you to respond. 

“No, I wasn’t staring.” Abby chuckles at that. 

Chuckles. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

If you could see her pouty lips, you’re sure that they’d be pulled into a smirk. Lately, she’s been enjoying this too much. Catching you staring at her for too long, biting the precious bottom lip of yours as she’s putting her muscles to work or when you caught her peeling the sweaty tank of her body for a new one, every inch of her skin glowing in the wake of the blistering sun. 

Her abdomen, toned with a not so subtle four pack, her v-line defined as it disappears into her jeans. It’s sickening. Really. It is. She catches your self control slipping through the cracks, dignity along with it as you give in to her adonis-like physique. 

The shock going through your body, going completely still as Abby just chuckles, winking at you before she goes about her day. Like it was nothing, like this is a normal occurrence for her. You’re not sure what thought made you feel even more sick. 

Women fawning over her or what happened after. 

But you didn’t have a right, you know you didn’t. 

You swallowed the unflattering buzz of sweeping jealousy until you couldn’t feel in anymore. It’s not an emotion you even deserve to feel. While the two of you had been getting closer the longer you spent with each other, you knew your boundaries well enough to know you still weren’t there, you never would be. 

The ghosts from your past made damn sure of it. 

“I can pose for you if you’re going to keep looking.” 

“I wasn’t—” 

Abby wipes the mixture of sweat, oils, and paint on the pair of old blue-denim. She lets her blonde hair out of the bun she wore, despite the icy temperature, her body runs warm. 

“It’s okay to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” Suddenly you become defensive, arms crossing over your chest. 

“That you’re still attracted to me.” Abby takes your curves in and nearly blows a low whistle, “You’re awful at hiding it.” 

“I-I’m not, this isn’t….you’re not, like, easy to look at, you know? Uh, ummm….” 

Standing there like an idiot as you struggle to get the words out, nearly impossible to get them released, your mouth staggering, unable to even keep them shut as Abby stalks you, your body pressed against the kitchen counter, the new one she installed days ago. 

Nothing comes out on the way you intend it to. Fuck. Did you offend her? 

“I’m not?” 

She whispers into your ear, her lips ghosting your skin. A free hand plays with the buckle of your belt before she pulls you closer by the fastened leather. It’s soft to the touch, making her want to sink her teeth into you, until her canines break the surface of your skin, claiming you as hers once again. 

Abby thinks about removing it off you, bending you over the counter and punishing you for it or even fastening the belt around your neck, pulling you along until you’re right where she pleases. The craving in the pit of her belly only stirs into an unmanageable peace the longer you stand there — squirming with satisfaction — waiting to be put out of your misery. 

Golden locks tickle your jaw, the static energy radiating off of her shocks your skin, goosebumps come alive on every inch of you as she makes her presence known. One fact you haven’t been able to shake, Abby Anderson is a force to be reckoned with. Ten years, ten full years, and your life means nothing now that she’s right in front of you. 

“Abigail, I don’t really think this is a good idea.” Abby waits for you to push her away, but instead you place your hands around her forearms but she’s so big, and it’s intoxicating that she stands taller than you. Her biceps the size of your head, veins protruding as she flexes, as if it didn’t make matters worse. 

“Then why don’t you just admit it?” Abby presses her pelvis even closer to yours and you wonder if you’re hallucinating the barely-there kiss to below your ear. “You want me just as much as you did back then. Ten years apart won’t change that. You still care about me, even though you wish you didn’t, you do.” 

“Abigail, we can’t go there, we both are—” 

“What? I’ve always been a patient girl. I can wait.” Loudly, you groan as she peppers kisses down your neck, before scratching at her skin, when she kisses the one spot behind your ear she certainly didn’t forget about. 

Abby digs her teeth in as you hiss, she enjoys the thrill of your soft whimpers, she’s barely started and you’re giving her just what she needs. The two of you know it, there isn’t a fix for this, the thread of a craving pulls until it’s fed. 

“Oh–” 

Rough hands hoist you on the counter top as she slots herself between your thighs, her frame protecting you as if you were a wild animal trying to be saved from extinction. The greed in Abby’s palm finds salvation when she touches exposed skin, silk to the touch — it doesn’t feel quite as sinful as she’s been told. 

She should hate you, right? 

You hurt her, didn’t look back twice, and you’ve never been the same. 

All of this is just a facade. The life you have, the future you always dreamed of building is thousands of miles from here and she just doesn’t fit within it anymore, everyone tells her she never did. A missing puzzle piece with a jagged edge, the more Abby tries to fit with your world, the further she pushes away. 

But she held onto the hope that your world no longer fit you and maybe — like a fool who believes in their first dream — she could be your world again. 

Sparkling, honey-blues dazzle their way into your heart once again, reminding you of everything you love, striking a reminder through your soul of just what you had hurt. The life you stole, the one you wanted to so desperately have but fear still swarms you. The memory doesn’t feel so distant, the past isn’t the past but lies as a reminder of the blood still staining your hands. 

With hesitance, you hold her full-freckled cheeks in your palms with a delicate hand, fearful any touch from you would burn her in the process. 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” You bite into the isolating air, threatening to swarm your soul but she finds you first. Abby’s warm breath feeds into the need blossoming like a seed rooted in soil, solidifying the growth of budding salvation. 

“I don’t know. Do you?” 

She’s so sweet on you, even as the trickle of poison burns her, Abby would gladly let it absorb every inch of her skin if it meant this. The wondrous arrival of a love once lost, her heart torn right down the middle. Unsure if giving into reason or a festered dream. 

It all grabs a hold of her the same, unwillingly to release her from the pure agony she feels when you’re not around. More dramatic than she intended it to be, the dagger once pushed through her heart, exerting every drop of blood until she felt unsatisfied iron saturating her tongue. 

She would even show gratitude if you let her. 

“Everything I think I know changes when you’re involved, so no, I don’t.” 

Leaning into your touch, Abby swears into the palm of your hand, her hands smooth over the fabric of your pants and your entire skin leaves a trail of fire anywhere her large, calloused hand scorns you. The weight of her love feels heavy, as it always has, but the temptation to carry every ounce of it is heavier than it’s been in years. 

With a terror in your chest, you blurt out the first thought entering you mind.  “You’ve aged really well, can barely tell you’re hitting thirty.” 

“Oh yeah? I can think of a few ways to show you.” 

Shit. 

A rapid heartbeat ready to burst, you’re not sure if it’s you or her. She’s inching closer, lips ghosting yours, her minty-ice breath makes home over yours. With a slight graze, you inhale a sharp breath, read for her to lean into you. 

Slam! 

“Am I interrupting something?” Immediately, you push Abby off of you, a judging pair of eyes scanning the two of you. 

The woman from the party looked like she could actually kill you with her bare hands. Then there’s Ellie sitting there grinning like the joker, one giggle away from sounding like the maniac himself. As if she was fully aware this would happen. The two of you are running off of pure animal instinct, unable to keep your hands off one another. 

“Abby? What’s going on?” The snip in the woman’s voice is evident, so is the possession she so clearly feels over your ex-girlfriend. The jealousy you feel over the thought sends an unwanted shiver up your spine. 

Then she’s looking at you, expecting you to disintegrate into nothing right in front of her. Like you had done something terribly wrong. 

Didn’t Abby say she’s single? 

“Chill out, Hazel.” Ellie rolls her eyes, smirking at the steam practically boiling out of Hazel’s ears. “Ready for that drink? Dina and Jesse are already waiting.” 

“Uh—” She looks back at you, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “Yeah, can you just give me a sec?” 

“But I really think we should—” 

“Down Hazel, god, you’re worse than a dog. They clearly were about to suck each other’s faces off. Move it.” 

Hazel clearly looks offended as she desperately looks at Abby, hoping for her to save a little bit of dignity but Abby just punches the bridge of her nose as Ellie escorts out an extremely frigid Hazel. 

Abby doesn’t miss the way the woman who has far too big of a crush on her tries to shoot daggers into you but you’re too busy focused on plucking your overgrown cuticles. 

As soon as the door shuts you bend over the counter, forehead pressed into the white marble of the island, settling for a frustrated groan even when you want to scream. 

“That bad, huh?” Abby stands behind you, watching as you lose it in front of her. 

“Your friends already hate me, was that really fucking needed?” 

There’s an itching, envious need to ask why Hazel seems to be protective over Abby, borderlining on obsession, but you keep your mouth tight lipped. Even if it’s the first thing ready to roll off your tongue. 

“They’re fine, Hazel is just—” 

“Protective.” You avoid her as she smirks, clearly enjoying the clear look of jealousy in your beautifully bright eyes. 

“Oh?” Abby is grinning, pearly whites shining as majestic as the moon. “I didn’t think you’d even feel like that about me.” 

As if it's instinct, she can’t stop how much she’s loving this. One moment of her lips on your skin and suddenly you want her all to yourself. Your head is spinning and her stupid, blue eyes won’t stop looking at you like a divine treasure. 

“I-I don’t know what to say.” 

You never did well with things out of your control, never really could. It’s why all of it ended the way it did. If you couldn’t somehow manipulate into what you wanted, it faded until you couldn’t hear it any longer. Abby faded into the noise, into your past, but maybe she is the noise and for the first time in ten years you can finally hear. 

“You don’t have to say anything but you can come with me.” 

“With your friends?” Abby nods. 

“All of your friends hate me and one looks like she might actually kill me. Why on earth would you think that’s a good idea?” 

“All of them are adults. They’ll handle just fine besides,  I want you there.” As soon as Abby says those words, your harsh seamer softens, rejection melts and dissipates from your vocabulary. She’s always been a difficult person to say no to. “You could use some social interaction, you don’t even leave this guest house.” 

“How did you know that?” 

“I have eyes?” Abby states it as more of a question, a giggle threatening to bubble out. 

“Oh god.” Abby laughs as she takes off her tool belt before finding her jacket and slipping it on her body. Grabbing her keys on the counter, looping the carabiner on the loop of her weathered denim. 

“Ready?”  

There’s a look of uncertainty in your eyes, nearly bleeding into an unwillingness to bend, but her words reassure you before you even get a chance to explain. As if she settled in your heart ten years ago and never left. 

“Don’t worry, okay? If anyone’s mean to you, I’ll set them straight, Cherry.” 

The nickname falls off her tongue, the sentiment hits you like a tsunami of emotion, bringing you back to every loving emotion she exposed to you for the first time. 

It shouldn’t cut you this deep but it will — she always will. 

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 ❞

March 26th, 2013 

“C’mon dance with me!” Abby screams over the loud music of the party. Fluorescent lights, a disco ball and tequila raged through her body, the alcohol pumping through her veins as she finally mustered the liquid courage to talk with the girl she’s been crushing on all sophomore year. 

Her friends had been teasing her all night about it, but when the girl looked at her in disgust, shoulder checking her into oblivion, she couldn't help but take it to heart. Her blue eyes swell with tears, a waterfall raging within her as she makes her way to the bathroom, puking out her dinner at her father’s house. 

So much for prom night, right? 

Making a beeline for the bathroom, with yet another rejection to check off the list, stupid fucking after party she lied to her dad about going to. It’s all so stupid, of course Lacey wouldn’t be into someone like her. No one likes her, no one ever will, she’s just the lame screw up in this town who can’t like boys, not when the rest of the girls in the wretched town do. 

Even if her dad tells her, it’s what makes her special — it’s a bunch of horse shit. 

So, in the home of the girl she confessed her undying love for, she pukes her guts out in the bathroom until there’s a knock at the door and a soft yet concerned shout that follows. “Hey, are you okay? Sounds a little rough in there!” 

“Shit,  yeah, just one second…” Abby collects herself taking off her jacket as she rolls up the sleeves, residue of what she chucked up on the cuff of her shirt. Quickly, she rinses off and roles the sleeves up. 

Well, it didn’t get any more embarrassing than this. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can get someone it’s really not a pro—” 

Without a further beat, the door is swung open. Abby suspects to see someone she knows, but she doesn’t. It’s a fresh face and she’s never been more grateful. The eyeliner she thought Lacey would like was probably smudged all over her face, Abby had no doubt she probably resembled someone operating an oil rig of some kind. 

Just as Abby tries to talk, she feels another round come up and she runs to the toilet, sinking to her knees as more bile comes out. Way to go Anderson, you’ve managed to utterly humiliate yourself in front of two beautiful women tonight. Truly, there should be some type of an award for being the dumbest idiot on the planet. 

Somehow, she knows all of this will come back to bite her in the ass. There’s no way that she isn't the complete laughing stock of the high school until she walks across the stage in two years with a diploma on hand. Whoever you are, you’re sure you’ll tell the entire town. 

A stupid pathetic lesbian who can’t have one good night to save her life. 

One of the most important nights of her life. 

But she doesn’t hear a mockery laugh, a snide comment…she isn't even met with pure disgust. The third and fatal option. There’s a comforting hand on her back, reassuring her everything will be just fine, the other holding her hair into  a makeshift ponytail, ensuring there isn't a single strand getting tied into the mess of her sickness. 

By the time Abby’s done, she feels even more humiliated, her body running hot, cheeks aflame but you’re already running warm water underneath the towel folded on the shelf above the toilet. Kneeling down again, you angle her by the jaw, wiping the residue off her lips and you carefully wash away the black eyeliner smeared all over her freckled-cheeks. 

For a second, Abby notices you staring at her pouty lips but she doesn’t say a word about it. 

Turned out so wonderful the first time…

“Here!” You pull from your pocket, a pack of red labeled gun, cherry flavored, and pull out one piece wrapped in paper-tin foil. “For your, you know, breath.” 

“Is this your nice way of telling me I have bad breath?” Abby teases, one moment with a pretty stranger, and she already felt more like herself. Abby takes a piece of gum, unraveling the piece before shoving the strip into her mouth. 

“Well, you did puke.” 

Regretfully she chews as the taste turns sweet instead of mint, her face contorts in rejection but still she chews. It’s not exactly what she had in mind. 

“You don’t like Cherry flavored? That’s just bad taste!” You grab a piece of gum for yourself, throwing the piece of paper in the trash, consuming it wholeheartedly, almost moaning as you put on a show. 

“Whatever you say, Cherry.” The sun might as well be shining on you from just how warm you feel. Heat rising in your heart, blossoming through your chest, thriving from the attention of the sun, 

“Hey! That’s not fair. I don’t know your name.” 

“Well, I don’t know yours either…” Abby hints, tilting her head to the side with a smirk the size of Texas. For once, she finds this easy, talking to a pretty girl, flirting with a pretty girl — proving it didn’t always have to be so hard to have something this good. 

“Call me Cherry, it’s better than my real one, trust me.” You smile sweetly, fully willing to rot each tooth if it means you could feel like this. “What’s yours?” 

“Abigail.” 

The two of you just stare at each other like idiots, two losers, two outcasts and all of it started to make sense. Every heartache dealt out by careless handlers of the heart, each person who made you feel small, unworthy, who knew all of it could be healed by looking into the brightest pair of blue eyes, the warmest, full of honey and marvelous wonder. 

It feels wonderful, being this close to a feeling, a lover's dream in the sunshine of spring, kissing shoulders never exposed to the brightful joy, freckles sprouting like bees flees to honey. One more kiss of sunshine until the sweetness falls on your tongue, guiding you to the spirit of love and everything you ever lost. 

One person, one perfect person who makes your youth scream of joy again. Jumping off a cliff, plummeting into the cool ocean without second thought, hoping they’ll be there to jump off it with you. Even if it takes a lifetime of waiting — you’d wait your entire life for her. 

As long as she’s in the sun, freckles being painted by pure light, you’d soak in the sun right along with her. 

“Thank you.” She squeaks out the words so small, you nearly miss it. 

“There’s no need for thanking. Just doing the right thing s’all.” Your smile is so sweet, Abby nearly feels every part of her body rotting with sugar. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“There was just this girl and I really thought she liked me but she really didn’t and I have this thing where I get a lot of anxiety or nervous I kind of just puke. It’s totally lame, god, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” 

“Me too. High school sucks.” You agree with her, offering a small smile as you finish cleaning her up. “But she’s totally lame for not seeing how great you are.” 

Abby tries not to blush, but she can’t hit the crimson swell painting the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “Did you try to kiss her or something?” 

“I didn’t really get that far, she wouldn’t even dance with me. Not here, not prom, guess I’m not cool enough for her.” Pushing the metal frame of her glasses up her nose, trying to stop herself from biting into her blunt nails, nearly drawing blood. Now that she’s come down from her puking fest, she sees how beautiful you are. The kind of beauty that would bring her to her knees if Abby wasn’t already there. 

“Cool is overrated. Who cares about being cool? We’re all losers trying to figure it out.” You say it as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, as if you’re confident in exactly who you want to be. Abby is envious of it. She wonders what it’s like to be so free — to not wonder what everyone is constantly thinking about you — if you’re good enough. 

You don’t seem to care. 

“If you still wanna dance, I’d dance with you. We can be losers together.” You offer up to her as you stand to your feet, offering a hand up to her and she takes it willingly. You grab the jacket to her suit, helping her slip into it and she smoothes the jacket over her frame. 

“You really don’t have to—” But you look at her with the most absurd gaze of refusal, eyebrows furrowed as it makes this cute little line between them.  Abby can’t help but admire it. 

“Oh, we’re going to fucking dance and show whoever this bitch is just what she’s missing.” 

You didn’t even know her name, she didn’t know yours, but you’d shown more kindness to her than she ever thought she deserved. 

Present day. 

There’s a lot to be said for how you let yourself succumb to her again, it didn’t take much, just a batting of blonde eyelashes and irresistible pouty lips and you’d fallen victim to Abigail Anderson. The hardest thing you’ve ever done was leave her. All these years later, you’re right back to where you were before all of this had started. 

It seems to shock all of her friends when the two of you walk on together and even more shocking when Abby throws her arm behind you, engaging in conversation here and there. Mostly, you tune out the conversation and mindlessly sip on the beer in front of you. 

Hazel isn’t happy about the predicament, cold brown eyes sport a simmering guidance of rage as she watches Abby’s fingers on your shoulder tracing random patterns into your skin. The arrival of your presence in turn makes her take jabs at you all night. Even with your silence, it doesn’t stop her, and when you have no visceral reaction she finally goes for something that brings silence around the entire table. 

“Why are you even here? Breaking Abby’s heart wasn’t enough the first time? Why don’t you run back to your sick mother and stop playing with people just because it’s fun for you.” Hazel bites and you feel the swarm of your tears begin to build and she keeps going, “Isn’t that why you came back? Not because you actually care but because your mom is going to die.” 

“Sorry, excuse me—” Hazel scoffs as you slither away and head towards the bathroom. As if she’s accomplished, she sips on her margarita, like what she just did was a service to everyone here. 

Ellie and Dina sit there in shock, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Jesse sits there silently, discomfort written all over his face. But Abby? She’s filled with a soaring hot rage, face flushed violet as her knuckles turn white. Hazel immediately shrinks into the booth, unprepared for what’s about to happen. 

She thought Abby would be happy, kicking someone who so wrongly hurt her to the curb. You didn’t deserve her. You never would. Hazel deserves you. She’s been here, waiting for Abby to see her and love her, not you. 

“What the fuck is your problem? Cherry wasn’t even doing a goddamn thing and you’ve been attacking them all damn night.” Abby’s rage is palpable, steaming to the touch, and nothing like any of them have ever seen. 

“I did this for you! She treated you horribly! She broke your heart! She deserves it.” 

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, tossing her head against the wall, “This has got to fucking stop. Cherry broke up with me goddamn ten years ago and it’s none of your business.” Hazel could practically see the steam rolling off her before Abby raised her voice even more, “You didn’t have a right to bring up her mom regardless of whatever happened. Jesus, if I want to be around her or want Cherry around, everyone here is just going to have to fucking deal.” 

“Abby, we’re just trying to look out for you. Cherry only ever thinks about herself.” 

“Well fucking don’t. I can handle myself despite whatever you think I can deal with. Stay the fuck away from her or you’ll live to regret it.” 

Throwing a twenty on the table to cover her tab, she finds you washing your face, trying to get rid of the puffiness in your eyes. When you see her, you turn her away, a lame attempt to stop her from seeing you like this. 

Weak. Overbearing. A winded rush pressing on your lungs, struggling to breathe — you didn’t need any of this. Not to be back right where it all destroyed you. Then here she is, the living reminder of your transgressions, your failure, the one thing you couldn’t fix. 

All roads lead to her. All of it is sick and twisted. The look of love pierces through your soul, scouring through the place you keep hidden under lock and key; the part that still loves her. 

It demands attention. To be heard. To be seen. To violate you and your dreams, to place her before everything else. A violent reminder of how all of this started. Before you could catch up with the tide, everything flips, your entire life becomes a reflection of what you feared. 

Abby has her life together and yours is coming apart. 

Everyone hates you for what you become. For how little you cared about leaving the first twenty years of your life behind, a chapter closed and discarded as if it never existed to you in the first place. 

“Let me take you home, alright? I’m sorry for Hazel she’s—” 

“It’s fine.” You cut her off, drying your eyes, or trying to but you can’t stop crying in the first place. “It was stupid of me to agree to this.” 

“You aren’t stupid, sorry, she was being a cunt. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen.” 

Abby carefully wipes your tears away, “Hey, let’s get out of here. Yeah? My place is just up the street. Just the two of us.” 

You nod as Abby leads you out, her palm feels welcoming in your grip, a homecoming you have been dying to feel. Her touch feels warm, perfect as her fingers interlock with your own. Like no time has passed, it’s easy for you to slip back into her grasp. 

Everything about her feels right. When she helps you get in her truck, the old one her father always wanted to renovate and it seems she did just that. The ride is only a couple minutes before she’s parking in the garage of her home. She opens the door for you, a hand on your back as she leads you towards the door leading into her house. 

What you expect to be a farmhouse, a hint of southern barn meets boho chic, but you’re met with something else entirely. 

It’s exactly what she talked about building growing up. Everything else feels modern except the cherry red kitchen with white accents and marble countertops. There’s cherries everywhere, but it’s subtle enough to the naked eye, you wouldn’t blink twice.

The memory comes back to you in a hot flash, one you weren’t fond of. 

“We can have it all. I’ll buy you a damn house, I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need, I want this, Cherry. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I love you, please, can’t you see a future with both of us?” 

“But I don’t want to be here. You know that! My dad can hardly look at me because I’m with a woman, my mom tries but she doesn’t understand. Is this the kind of life you want? They remind me that I’m not good enough. Who I love isn’t good enough, not if I’m not with a man. Can you understand I’m dying to get out of this nothin’ town?” 

Abby gnaws at her bottom lip, teeth drawing blood as she sees you drawing within yourself. Pulling back at the first sign of hardship. Even Abby wonders if she’s worth fighting for. 

“You mean dying to get away from me? I’m in this nothin’ town you despise so much.” 

“Abigail, you’re taking words out of my mouth, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

“You just want to leave and I don’t.” You look at her, her adorable pout in a frown, arms she’s been bulking for the past couple years begin to show definition. The freckles she hates grew more prominent on her skin as she spent the summer working for father’s construction company. 

Her life is here, her future is here, but for once since the two of you met, your own two different paths and no matter how much you love her — it just won’t work. 

“We’re eighteen! Our entire lives are in front of us. I can’t stay here, Abigail. I just can’t. I dream of a big city, somewhere my stories will take me places, a life that I can’t find here.” 

“You got the scholarship, didn’t you?��� Abby barks, her chest puffing out, jaw clenching as she pleads for you to tell her the truth. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been lying to me, hoping I’d change my mind?” 

“I wasn’t lying. I just—” 

“What? You were just going to leave one morning and never come back? Like I mean nothing to you?” Abby removes her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Like the past two years have just been what? A way for you to pass time until your real life comes along. Fucking great.” 

“I told you from the start, I want more. I need to do more! No one gets into NYU around here and certainly not on a scholarship. I have a chance for a real future, a way out from my parents, a new life, I’ve always wanted this. You know I have.” 

“And I’ve always wanted you.” 

Silence engulfs the room, a pindrop could be heard, the tension could be cut with a knife but Abby sees the wall closing around you. Covering her from the heart you slowly opened up to her, what she fought tooth and nail for. She always fought for you but it’s hard to do anything when you don’t believe this is worth saving. 

“You don’t even have the decency to ask me.” 

“What?” 

“You just want to write me off. You lump me with everyone else because you don’t even give me the chance.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Abby’s blue eyes turn into ice, all the warmth void as the chill sends a shiver down your spine. Her throat feels tight, like even if she swallows her own spit she’ll choke. 

“Do you love me enough to make this work?” Abby flinches when you don’t immediately answer, because she knows where she stands, she would follow you across the world if it meant that’s what you wanted. To make you happy. But she can’t help but feel like she’s splitting herself apart for someone who doesn’t care in the way she does. 

With tears in your eyes, they cascade down your cheek before whispering to her, “I don’t.” 

“Get. Out.” She murmurs through clenched teeth, using the sleeve of her t-shirt, one you gifted her, to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. The overflow of the heartache racked through her body like she’s never felt before. 

You don’t love her. You don’t love her. You never loved her. 

“Abs, please, don’t make me leave like this. Can we talk about this?” 

“What’s there to fucking talk about? We don’t love me, Cherry. What else is there to fucking say?” 

You nearly scream, not sure why anything you’re saying isn’t coming out the way you intended it to. “You’re not listening to me I—” 

“Right. You just need to find a man, right? God, you’re just like Lacey.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You bite, and if looks could kill, Abby would be dead right now. She’s struck a nerve, the memory of sophomore year comes flooding back to her, back when all of this started. “God, fuck you. How could you possible compare me to the straight girl that pulled you along because what she really wanted was Daniel Collins to fuck her so stupid she ended up pregnant junior year.” 

“You’re leaving, when your back is pressed up against a wall, you’ll always leave, Cherry.” 

“But I—” You stop yourself before you could speak the forbidden words, the ones you’ve said to her a million times, the one you just refuted that you did even if she can usually call you right on your bullshit. But you’ve diluted her sense of reasoning and all she hears is her girlfriend of two years just told her she doesn't love her. 

“You what? What other lies are you going to tell me?” 

“Fine.” Your expression turns stone cold, “Let’s both be done with it then. There’s nothing left to fight for.”  

Prideful ego gets in the way of what Abby wants and she finally lets her head speak for her, “Sounds good to me.” 

“Are you alright?” Abby asks but then she notices you’re just staring at her kitchen and she’s never been so self-conscious in her life. She didn’t even think about it, she’s so used to others seeing it but it’s different when your muse is taking in the craft you created with them in mind. 

“Oh, right, the cherries.” She stutters out, scratching the back of her neck as she turns the lights on. It smells of vanilla and something oak, just like she smelled in high school. To others it may seem boring but it’s refreshing to know she’s still the same as she was. 

“You still did it?” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda lame honestly, maybe I should have done something else but nothing ever fit right with the rest of the house so.” Abby pops open a beer, somehow needing to have some type of liquor while you gawk at the work she created with you in mind. “If I’m being honest, I think it was just a way for me to hold onto you. I sure didn’t think I would ever see you again.” 

“Me neither.” You answered truthfully, the loss of Abby rattled you, even though you were better at hiding it. Losing her is still the most painful loss you had to endure, which she considers fortunate, but not fortunate enough. “I always thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t been so headstrong. I think I had to convince myself in order to leave, I would have stayed here for you if not.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Even if she pretends not to be, Abby’s still bitter. 

“Why?” 

“You always knew what you wanted out of life and that wasn’t me.” Abby chews on her bottom lip again, picking the label of the beer before taking another swig. “Hell, you left before I even got a chance to say goodbye.” 

“What?” Eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you take a step forward, “Did you come to the house?” 

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave things like that. Did you not—” 

“No, I didn’t know, I thought that was it. I didn’t expect there to be more for my sake.” 

The way she looks at you feels like she’s peering into her soul, the way she sees you so clearly, better than anyone ever has, chilling you to your core. Bits and pieces of your love located in eyes that glimmer only for her, light electrified the moment your sights are set on her. 

It feels like falling in love with a broken melody. 

You admire the imperfections instead of leaving at the bridge. 

“I waited on your porch for hours but then your parents came home, saying they just had gotten back from dropping you off.” 

In a matter of moments, your entire world feels flipped, like everything you had known for the last ten years, a terrible lie you wished to never know. A nightmare you would hope to wake up from. That’s all this was, you would wake up in her father’s home as you fought in the kitchen, you convince yourself not to let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

“You came back for me?” 

Closing the space between the two of you, grabbing her beer and placing it on the countertop. Abby takes an intake of breath as you invade every part of her personal space. As corny as it sounds, you do smell of cherries. So sweet, her bones feel weak with need, as if she doesn’t inhale the sugar she’ll just crumble at your feet, begging for just one drop. 

“Yeah, I cried in front of your dad who hated me at the time, might I add. After that, he was kind, I think because he saw how much I…you know…” 

You remember how much he changed when you came home for the holidays three years later. Naturally, you always accepted he had just come around over time, but it wasn’t that at all — the weeps of your high school girlfriend convinced him. 

“Guess he saw how much I loved you or something…I don’t know…” She shrugs like it’s nothing. 

Like she's nothing; the careless lie you let her believe. 

Even with her dominating physical presence, she’s always been shy about this sort of thing. Expressing her feelings never really came easy, even if she wore them with her heart on her sleeve, admitting them was different than feeling them. 

“You changed his mind.” 

“He would have gotten there eventually. I’m sure he liked whoever you dated after me.” 

“Hm.” You grimly laugh, “He didn’t. Not the two I brought home but he always spoke fondly of you, he definitely likes you better then he enjoys his own kid.” 

Patient she is watching you process the information, it’s almost too much for her to swallow. What if you had been home when she was going to say goodbye? Would this be your home with her? The dreams of kissing her in the kitchen, cherry inspired, the family home she always wanted to build for the two of you. Now she’s here with no one but herself. Withering away the soul of a woman who only wanted love. 

“He loves you and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss. Trust me, I know it too well.” 

The confession hangs on the walls like a memorial, taking a trip down memory lane, or more like the hell of your own making. Demons you conjured cast over your past as if they only exist in hollow halls. The deeper you go, the more your heart slivers in the cracks of her delicate grip. For the first time, you don’t mind when she presses on your heartbeat — demanding more with just looking at you the way she does. 

The way she always has. 

“Do you still love me?” 

“Are you going to run away if I tell you?” 

Lips ghost over you, her breath hits your face, making it flush with heat. She leans against the counter, wrapping your back with one of her arms, tugging you close to her. 

“Abby, I’m a mess.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t know what my family is going to look like or my future.” 

“I know.” 

“Abigail, would you stop saying that?” 

“I’ve only ever cared about you, I don’t care if your life is together. I’m here and I—” She dips her head to kiss down your neck, decorating your collarbones with her lips as she creates a map back to where she wants to the most, “will take care of you.” 

Abby kisses you like the air in her lungs is expendable, as she has endless amounts to give. That’s all she is love, pouring into every ounce of you that she can find. With desperate abandon, she wants to wipe your memory of every wrong she ever did you — she only wants to remind you of the reason why she loves you. Maybe it’ll be enough for you to wake up in her arms again. 

For once, she might be enough. 

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t know what it all means and—” 

“Right now? I don’t fucking care.” Abby leeches off your neck, kissing and delicately sucking, grazing her sharp teeth against sensitive skin. “I just want you.” 

Thoughtless abandon goes out the window as she guides you back into her apartment, off the spacious balcony and corners you into her room. Letting you fall on her bed as she stands above you, as she strips in front of you. Making a show of it, torturing you for sport, before she goes in for the kill. 

The alcohol still alive in your mind as she pulls off, a freckled maze maps its way all over her body. The subtle blonde happy trails travels underneath her navel and disappears beneath the fabric of her denim jeans. Your own self-control begins to slip, but Abby is too concerned with evening out the playing field. Even if this is a long-lasting goodbye, she’s going to make it last. 

Slipping your trousers down your legs, she’s met with cotton boxers — soaked all the way through. 

“Is that all for me?” Abby snaps the waistband against your skin as you squirm underneath your touch, bucking your hips into the air. Impossibly desperate for her touch. 

“Y-Yes, It’s for—” Irrevocably your eyes roll back into your skull, “Abigail, oh shit, shit, shitttt.”  

Sneaking a hand in your boxers, she opens up your inviting folds, slippery and as Abby glides along, collecting your slick with the calloused fingers. You squirm and shift, bucking into her hand, waiting for more to be given to you. 

“Just say my name like that pretty girl, so good for me, aren’t you?” Abby removes her hand as she pulls your boxers off your legs and without being asked she slides them down your legs as she pushes your shirt up to your tits, exposing the swell of your breasts to her possessive eyes, waiting to lay claim onto what she’s missed for the past ten years. 

“I wonder if you’re just as…” Abby takes a beat before rubbing over your hard nipple along her tongue, her denim-glad thigh grinding against your thigh as she suckles at your breasts. “Sensitive.” 

She moans into your skin, using her free hand to play with your pussy, soft strokes to your clit as she elicits more moans from you. The force of her strength and weight keeps you down, the stutter of your hips chasing her fingers. 

“My pretty baby, not so mean and bossy anymore, huh?” She bites your nipple gently before whispering in your ear, “Did you miss me that much?” 

“I just want more, please.” 

In any other circumstance, she happily would make you pay for it. Wait even, but if she doesn’t have you in her mouth for another second, she won’t survive. You’re so beautiful, you’re perfect in every conceivable way. The years had in fact been kind to you, different from what she knew when the two of you had sex but god, she thinks you’re even more exquisite now. 

“More?” Abby removes what remains of her clothing, leaving you to gawk at her muscled frame, small tits frame her chest perfectly. “How about you sit on my face, angel? How does that sound?” 

She’s already made you come twice, just on her tongue alone, pushing for a third as she holds you by the waist, waiting for your overstimulated body to give into her once more. 

Abby makes everyone look inadequate when it comes to her, no one could touch you like this, fuck you like this, slither their talent tongue inside your waiting hold as you take her out for a ride. Muffled moans against your dripping cunt sends shivers throughout your spine, body twitching as you feel yourself hurling closer to the edge. 

You can’t help but ride her face as your head lies on the bundle of curves covering her mound and you’ve been too fucked out the entire time to do anything but you can’t help but notice the way her patient cunt is shining with her slick. Curiosity blooms within you as you notice the slight thrust of her hips, chasing a part of you that isn’t there. 

With no sudden warning, you vigorously rub on her wet folds, applying pressure on her bundle of nerves as you spread her sweet juices along her puffed lips. 

“Baby, nghhh, oh my god.” Abby slurps as she sucks your clit into her mouth before you fall right over the edge again. Her eager tongue fucks your through it with her tongue, letting your ride the high as your nails scratch her stomach, marking her as yours once again. 

Abby helps your weak body slide down her legs, flipping you over as your pussy falls against her, her legs spread open as your head rests against her sternum, feeling the increased rate of her heart beat thump against her chest. 

She smooths her hand over your hair, gorgeous hypnotic eyes pull at Abby’s heart. “We should get some sleep.” 

“We can…unless you want to entertain a thought I’m having.” Abby raises her eyebrow as rotate your hips, clit bumping against hers as she throws her head back, a string of curses fall from her lips as she grips onto your hips. Happily, she lets you take control, pushing her strong leg over your shoulder as you glide against her soaked pussy. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, holy fucking shit—” 

Perfect tits bouncing as you rock your hips against her movement, the more you look in her eyes, you feel yourself yearning for another release. It’s never been this good, never with anyone. The moans she whispers, kept in the secret coven of your love, the spells she casts to keep you near — it trumps anything you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep looking at me, Abigail.” The whine of her full name, only ever falling from your lips, the most wonderful symphony. It’s intoxicating how much she loves it. How much she loves you. Deep in her bones, even if she tries her best to pull away, she knows not a damn thing will ever compare to this. For this life and the next, she’ll be searching for you in everyone she meets. 

She can’t live another moment with you. Not after ten years of agony, fuck no, she needs you like she needs oxygen to breathe. You’re not sure how long it takes, but you don’t forget how Abby looks at you with a tender heart that basically pours out of her. 

“Baby, please. N-N-gh, I need you.” You push her forward, hitting a deeper angle than you were before until you hear just how wet she is with your forehead pressed against hers, “Show me how my pretty girl comes, yeah? Need a reminder, princess.” 

Abby moans out your name, her body fucking up into you, slithering her convulsing cunt against your clit as her defined abdomen twitches and only relaxes when you follow her lead, you body collapsing on her. Two hearts beats become one as the two of you fall asleep, a quiet whisper of I love you, but you’re not sure if it falls from your lips or hers. 

The morning air breathes lilies and fresh espresso, her sweet cinnamon cologne lingers in her sheets, where she held you all night with her heavenly embrace. Reality sinks in and then you’re afraid once again. You slip one of her button up shirts on, pulling on a pair of her sweats before your feet are met with the cool wooden floors. 

She’s sitting there, those stupid glasses she apparently didn’t get rid of. Making her look stupid cute as she read the velvet-green covered book in her large palms. 

It’s easy for her to tell how you feel, Abby knows you too well as she watches you with cautious eyes. You’re so afraid of it all. Always, you’ve been afraid of what she makes you feel, how close she pushes you to the edge of no return. A love you feel helpless to, especially when it eats you from the inside out. 

“Do you wanna leave? I can take you home.” Abby doesn’t even look up from her book, she sounds annoyed, completely different than her vulnerable demeanor last night. It puzzles you when she closes herself off. 

“Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?” 

Abby folds her book, marking the page on the sharp corner before she takes off her glasses. “You don’t owe me anything if that’s what you’re worried about. You felt like you didn’t before. You in all your city glory.” 

Something happened. 

“Abby, what’s going on?” 

“You tell me.” She places your phone on the table and it’s the email detailing of your new book tour in Europe. One that lasts the better part of the year. 

“You snooped through my phone?” 

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it was mine, okay? I would never do that.” Abby sighs, “I really didn’t mean to fucking look. I just, it’s happening all over again, I’m losing you over something. I’m never what you pick and I can’t ever be enough for you. Even Hazel was right! All you do is hurt me and it’s my fault because I let you. I can’t keep chasing you. It’s a stupid dream I’m too dumb enough to let go of.” 

“So, that’s it? Last night was just what? A mistake?” 

“I didn’t say that—” 

“But you did! Fuck, I should have known things wouldn’t change.” 

“You should have known? This is the same reason why you left me. I’ll lose you, again, to something I can’t compete with. The both of us know it to be true. At least have the decency to admit it.” 

“Do you want me to apologize? I did what I wanted! I have everything I wanted. This is everything I’ve worked towards for the best ten years—” 

“But you don’t—” Abby puffs out her chest, standing taller than she has since you’ve been back. The words spill just like you did the night before, “You didn’t get everything, you made sure of it the moment you left me behind.” 

Abby has backed you into a corner, stalking you like you’re her prey but this isn’t how she wants everything to be. Looking into your dreary eyes, she’s transported back to when you shattered her heart, splitting into pieces that no longer fit. The harder she tries to piece them back, the more jagged she becomes. 

“I don’t want this. I’ve let go of it.” 

I let go of you, sounds entirely too painful to say. 

“That’s your plan? To pretend none of this has happened?” Abby’s tongue prods the inside of her cheek, a cocky smirk flashes your way. “Look at how well it turned out the first time.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your arms cross over your chest, attempting to create some distance between the two of you, but Abby only closes you in. 

“Why do you still wear it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Abby reaches for your hand, you untangle your limbs, the pad of her thumb loving running over the silky skin. Her calloused hand feels rough, just as it always has, but it also feels right. 

The silver ring on your pinky, the one you lost and the one your father had conveniently found. But it was never him who located your perfect gem, nope. Not at all. Just Abby’s biggest fan, besides Hazel. 

The reminder of her leaves a sour taste saturating your tongue, but you have no right. It's her friend, and just because you’re not fond of her, doesn’t mean a thing. You’re just a ghost still lingering in her life. Even if she answers there’s nothing, Hazel looks at her like you used to. When the same protectiveness switched into high gear last night, she only thought of how much you would do the exact same thing Hazel did if the roles were reversed. 

Just maybe, not as cruel. 

Abby takes the ring off your thumb, it shines in the dim lighting in the room.

“The day I fell in love with you, three months into our relationship, I gave it to you. Do you remember what I said?” 

Simply, you nod. 

“Wear this for as long as you love me and when you’ve taken it off, I’ll know we’re truly done.” Abby hums, your eyes shut as her thigh wedges between your legs but it only rests there. “But I hope you wear it forever.” 

“Then let go of me, give it back, throw it away, but stop acting like you might still feel the same. I’m tired of being played. You know how much this ring means to me. Don’t leave me, again.” 

It’s a cop out for what she really wants to say, the both of you know it is, but you have the decency to let it swarm past without making a single comment. 

She’s begging for mercy. She’s tired. The lines on her skin are an indication of the hours she spends in the sun and the time passing by, engaging you in a never-ending tsunami of Abigail Anderson’s love. 

“Abigail—” You say her name like it’s a curse, a spell you keep casting to make her fall deeper in your endless abyss. “Just because it seems like a good idea doesn’t mean it’ll work out. What makes this time any different?” 

You slid away from her, needing to breathe, you can’t think when she’s too close. Serendipity finds home into honey blues, working its magic until she finds purchase in your heart once again. You’d let her get too close, more than you should let her allow. 

Abby, the heart. 

You, the head. 

The dreamer. The thinker. Forever intertwined by the deadly kiss of fate. 

“But if it did? What if we did?” 

Abby doesn’t want to beg, but she is. She learned her lesson the first time. She said nothing all those years ago, letting you take the relationship the two of you had by the reigns, your cruelty being the fatal blow to what the two of you had worked so hard to build. Naivety crushed the future right in front of her — the one she regularly dreams of. 

Each what if connected like constellations in the sky, each one just as bright as the next, Abby can’t make of which she wants. But Abby has always known it to be true, this has always been it for her but you’re so afraid. 

Still petrified to be loved. 

“I can’t let myself go through it again, if we didn’t? I can’t just—” You begin pacing, trying to get yourself into a position to clear your mind. The hope she has, it could kill you in your sleep. “I fucked up, okay? Last night shouldn’t have happened. I needed something and I used you. Is that what you want to hear? Will that satisfy you enough?” 

“I want the goddamn fucking truth, Cherry. Stop with the lies. Tell me you want this to end because you don’t love me anymore, or that you want to go on this book tour, not because you fucked up. I don’t care if you fucked me because you needed your clit sucked for the night. Tell me the truth, Cherry, please.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

Abby chuckles maliciously, “Why? You don’t like to remember when you were in love, the only time you ever were happy, the only time you ever let anyone get close to you?” 

She attempts to get closer to you but you dodge her and walk to the other side of the room. 

“You’re quite literally running away from me. Anything but facing the truth, right?” Abby sighs into her hands. The muscles in her body are exhausted, her heart is over spent, and her mind is filled with you. Even if she doesn’t want it to be. “Do you think I want this? To feel like this? To put my heart on the line when you clearly show that you’ll discard it every damn time? Do you think this is enjoyable for me?” 

“Then stop! I’m not asking you to, just let me leave, let me go.” 

“Let the ring go.” Somehow, in your heat of emotion, you grabbed it back from her and didn't realize it had been placed back on your thumb. “You know it was my mom’s, how could you so selfishly keep this?” 

“What?” 

Fuck. Abby runs her hands through her hair,  gripping so tightly her sunkissed knuckles turn white from nearly being pulled from the root. 

“But you said this was—” 

“I lied! I was eighteen and scared shitless, okay? I didn’t want you to—” 

“You didn't want me to….?” 

Abby sighs rubbing her hand over her face, a habit she seemed to pick up in your presence. “If I tell you, you’re just going to run.” 

You grimace, tearing up as you look at the ring, it means so much to her and all this time she was perfectly fine with thinking you got rid of it. Abby never so much as asked for it back. But everything feels more final with the ring in hand, the shining promise of something more. But the naivety of youth chilled her bones, made her believe that love like this comes and goes. It goes. And goes. And goes. 

It never comes. 

“Do you want it back?” You dodge whatever omission she was about to let fall. It’s what you do best. Avoiding the future — she’s always been ominous, constantly you’re scared to believe in the faith of her undying love. The forgiveness of her heart pours like an overflowing well. Abby teeters you along the line of grace you don’t quite deserve.   

“No.”  Abby sighs before she brings herself close to you. “I want you back, Cherry. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted as much as you. When you left, everyone told me it’s just because you're my first love. Time heals all, right? But it doesn’t. Despite your best efforts, I’ll always love you. You’re—” 

You take a step closer to her, “I’m what?”

“You’re the love of my life. If you walk at that door, it’ll take the rest of my life to fill the gap you leave. But if you don’t love me, then please, put me out of my misery and just leave.” 

Abby looks down at the wood floors, tears collecting in her eyes as she expects you to walk out the front door, leaving her in the dust. But the slam of her front door never comes, instead you sink down on your knees resting your head on her knee, waiting for her to look down at you. 

“What?” Abby grunts. 

“There was this cute, really nerdy blonde girl, she puked on prom night, crying over some straight girl and somehow I managed to fall in love with her despite all odds but you know what the real kicker is?” You intertwined her hands with her, your head tilting to the side as your dreamily looked into sunny-blues, sticking to you like honey,

“I never, ever stopped.”

[mixelation]

a bit of the blood covenant (the minato/oc fic). working title is "renka is a liar"

what could she be lying about.....?

I’m going to fuck up that guy’s whole life, was the only thought in my mind as I lept through the trees. 

Every time I came down on a new branch, my right thigh screamed in protest. It would scream again as I came back up, hurling myself as ungracefully as a new genin to my next landing. 

But, dear reader, I have advice for you: if you want to kill a medic, make sure you make a killing blow. Don’t just leave her for dead and assume she’ll crawl off and die like a good girl.

I’m not Shisui, I thought furiously, pausing in my sloppy run as the temple I was aiming for came into sight. Fuck off, Danzo. 

I leaned against the trunk of the tree, panting heavily. Through the branches, I could see the curving roof of the temple. There were a lot of old abandoned buildings out here, dotting the forests of Fire Country, and this one didn’t stand out as special. I only knew where it was because I’d previously found it by happenstance, and I only recognized it as important by chance knowledge. I had never been inside before. 

Pausing my run had been a mistake. The loss of momentum meant that I was aware of how shaky and weak my legs felt. I made a clumsy jump for the forest floor and had to turn my landing into an embarrassing roll. 

If anyone was following me, they were far enough behind that I couldn’t sense them. I could see the spiral emblem on the door of the temple. I limped forward confidently, using my left hand to push more healing chakra into the hole in my leg, which I would generously describe as “gaping” but was definitely less gaping than when Danzo had stabbed it into me. 

I’ll get both his legs, I thought as I pushed open the temple door. Ugh, it’s going to scar!

The movement of the door tossed an enormous amount of dust into the air, making my eyes water. The air smelled stale and musty. The windows were boarded up, and only a few sickly strands of moonlight illuminated the innards of the Uzumaki temple. 

I had to stop my healing to activate my sharingan. I could usually do both at once, obviously, but I’d been running on nothing but adrenaline and spite for too long, and my body currently did not contain nearly enough blood as it should, and I was starting to get dizzy. 

The sharingan did nothing to enhance color vision, but with it I only needed the smallest source of light to make out the contents of the temple clearly. There were some hanging scrolls and abandoned, rotting furniture, which I ignored. My eyes went straight for a wall of masks along the back wall. 

I limped into the temple. I had some trepidation about which mask was the one I wanted, but looking at them, I knew instantly. 

It wasn’t that the mask looked unordinary or that my sharingan could pick up something special. The mask was painted wood, a grinning demon’s face with curling horns. Nothing was special about its craftsmanship, and my sharingan could detect no jutsu on it. 

And yet, to look into its eyes, was to see the inevitability of your own death. 

A hint of fear tingled in my spine. A bad omen, my superstitious mother would have said. 

That was fine, though. I’d been staring down the inevitability of my own death for over two decades. I no longer gave a shit, except that if I had to die, I was doing it as explosively as possible. It was this or nothing. 

I pulled the mask for the wall and lifted it to my face. 

If you kill me, I thought at the mask, make sure you bring that asshole down with me, will you?

xXx

Dear reader, here is what you need to know about me.

My name is Uchiha Renka. I was raised by a great aunt after both my parents died in the Second Shinobi War. My hobbies include reading, baking, and dabbling in make-up and fashion. After a lot of study and hard work, I have passed most medic-nin competencies and work mainly in the hospital. 

I am a painfully normal sort of young woman, as you can see. At least for a ninja. I work my shifts, and I treat myself to a new book once a week. The most scandalous thing I do, aside from occasionally going out on state-mandated missions that sometimes include various types of murder, is sometimes try weird shades of lipstick when I go out drinking with the girls. We even have a three drink maximum. I did not do anything to merit the fucking headhunt after me except exist as an Uchiha. 

And… well, okay, I’ll admit something, just between us. Another thing you should know about me is that, even if my main goals in life are to help people at the hospital and then go home and read a good book over some hot tea on my balcony, I do have a bit of a fatal flaw. It’s nothing more than a basic Uchiha family trait, really:

I am just a teensy-weensy bit vindictive. 

It got me into trouble a few times growing up, but it’s really nothing too bad. It definitely wasn’t enough to make me deserve the absolute clusterfuck you just read about. You make one mistake, and next thing you know, your boss is calling you a vile woman and a disgusting, cowardly failure and trying to kill you. 

Well, fuck him, honestly. I’d survived everything up until him, and I wasn’t going down without a fight. 

I wasn’t one hundred percent sure how the shinigami mask worked when I put it on. I thought I could maybe use the shinigami to chuck Danzo and-slash-or “Madara” into the afterlife for good. My second choice was to bring back Tobirama and have him tell off my enemies and maybe my clan for… whatever the hell they were doing. 

Honestly. All I wanted was to sit in my patio chair with a blanket and read…

I ended up vomiting up the Fourth Hokage instead. 

I know. It sounds gross. I know. But I’m not making any of this up. I put on the mask, and it was like the shinigami was inside me, and then inside of the shinigami was this horrible squirming feeling. I wanted it out. I needed it out. 

I threw up. It felt awful, worse than any vomiting session I’d had before, my whole body retching. The mask fell off my face. 

Then the Fourth Hokage was standing in front of me.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Trine [13]

Anselm Vogelweide x Blue Jones x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Trine Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: Blue doesn't approve of Anselm's choice of pet names.

A/N: Special shout out to the lovely @midgardian-witch 💚🫂 who encouraged me to post this (it has taken 100 years).

Warnings: sexy times mentions, Blue being a brat, german (Blue doesn't speak it), typos, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 914

“Well, I hate it.” Blue says, a little too dramatically as he puts the chocolate covered pistachio in his mouth and chews. “It’s awful.” 

Anselm can’t help but smile, however he does manage to suppress his chuckle. “And why is that, mein lieber?” He squeezes Blue’s thigh a little as he talks, making him squirm. 

Blue is sat on Anselm’s lap, in Anselm’s private office. 

He had forgone getting fully dressed today, swanning around in his baby pink silk, short, dressing gown and slippers. Grumpy and inconsolable. 

You were busy today, an important meeting followed by seeing some old friends. (The phrase 'old friends’ had been enough to get Blue scowling.) And you wouldn’t be back until late. 

Even Anselm’s best tricks weren’t breaking his foul mood, and even though he did love Blue’s petulant little pout, he was very aware that he had not smiled once since you’d kissed them just before you left this morning. 

“It just is.” Blue huffs, leaning back a little against Anselm’s chest and staring daggers at the laptop screen.

Anselm presses a light kiss to Blue’s shoulder blade, “What about the cut of this one?” He moves the mouse and clicks on a different suit. Usually shopping cheered Blue up no end, whether it was in person or online. (Anselm had opted for the latter today, as Blue did not want to leave the house.)

“Ugly.” 

Anselm laughs this time and he can feel Blue preen a little, pleased that he has amused him. 

“The colour is disgusting as well.” 

“I like it, mein lieber.” 

“Well, you have no taste.” Blue folds his arms. 

“Is that true?” Anselm lightly kisses his neck and Blue nods.

“Absolutely.” He juts his chin towards the screen, “And neither does this designer. I know you’d get it handmade but this prototype is just ghastly.” 

“Just ghastly?” He repeats with glee, thoroughly enjoying how worked up Blue was becoming. Anselm takes a pistachio from the bowl on his desk and presses it lightly to Blue’s lips. 

“There’s no sense of style.” He huffs before he opens his mouth and licks the minuscule amount of melted chocolate from Anselm’s fingers liberally. “I would dress you better than this hack, or yourself.” 

Anselm can see the little frown deepening on Blue’s face, “I thought you liked them, mein lieber? You have three suits from them, and two-”

“Why are you calling me that?” Blue snaps. Despite the bluntness of his words his tone, surprisingly, doesn’t come across as rude. More… distressed and trying to cover it. 

“Mein lieber?” 

“Hmm.” Blue purposely stares at the computer.

Anselm slowly drags his left hand up to Blue’s face, lightly stroking his jaw and gently coaxing him to turn. Blue huffs again, rolling his eyes, but turns his head. 

“Are you not my dear? My love? My spoilt little brat?” Anselm squeezes Blue’s waist a little, making him yelp and Blue scowls harder. 

“Meine liebe,” Blue says disgruntledly. “You’re saying mein lieber.” 

Anselm chuckles again, understanding. He called you ‘meine liebe’. “My sweet, you will have to forgive german and its old fashioned formalities. Meine liebe is the feminine, mein lieber is masculine.” 

“Oh,” Blue paused, the thoughts turning in his mind for a moment. “Well, I don’t like that either.” 

“Do you not, my love?” 

“No, I don’t want ‘mein’ that just sounds… wrong, horrible. Meine is sweet and nice and,” reminded him of you. He wanted to be called the same sweet words, held in the same regard. 

Anselm smiles, nuzzling his beard into Blue’s cheek for a second. “Meine liebe it is.” He mutters in Blue’s ear, making him shudder and press closer. 

Blue swallows, wrapping his arms around Anselm’s neck. “I like that.” He whispers. 

“Well, thank the old gods, because at last, it seems like my beloved is satisfied with something.” Anselm pinches Blue’s thigh lightly, making him yelp and squirm, Anselm’s tight grip on his waist stopping him from completely escaping. 

“I was satisfied with the chocolates.” Blue mutters but Anselm ignores him.

“All day I’ve been more than accommodating with your bratty behaviour, and after I promised our wife I would cut you some slack and not be too harsh on you.” 

Blue leans back, pouting a little but it’s not enough to cover his smile. “She asked you to be kind to me?” He teases lightly, obviously thrilled that you and Anselm had had a conversation about him. 

“She demanded it.” Anselm strokes Blue’s cheek softly, before sliding his fingers around to the back of his neck and squeezing firmly. “And, I will be. For the whole of today.”

Blue grins wickedly.

“But don’t think you’re going to get away with this behaviour, oh no.” He tuts.

“Oh no? Are you going to wait until later to punish me? I better make the most of it then.” He grins, showing off his canines. Thoroughly looking forward to the idea of riling up Anselm even more and facing his delicious wrath later on. 

But instead of a stern word, Anselm gives him an equally dangerous smile. “Quite the contrary. Our liebe told me before she left, that she will be punishing you for any and all your transgressions today.” 

Blue pauses for a moment, his eyes wide and then swallows audibly, a shiver of delight running through him. 

“Ah, much better,” Anselm kisses his cheek and rubs his nose against his. “I much prefer seeing joy in your eyes over sorrow.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[duhshereadz]

Vi gives Ekko dating advice:

The sun was setting over Zaun, the sky streaked with muted oranges and deep purples that glowed faintly through the city’s haze. Ekko leaned against the railing of the Last Drop’s rooftop, fiddling with a small gear in his hands, his thoughts racing a mile a minute. He wasn’t nervous—okay, maybe he was, but not about what Vi might think. It was more about how to word his questions without, you know, giving too much away. He wasn’t exactly subtle at the best of times.

Vi sauntered up behind him, boots crunching against the loose gravel of the rooftop. “You’ve been up here for twenty minutes. If you’re planning to jump, at least wait until I grab my camera. I need a new blackmail photo.”

Ekko turned and gave her a smirk, pocketing the gear. “Ha ha, real funny, Vi.”

“What’s up, Little Man?” Vi asked, plopping down next to him on the railing and nudging his shoulder. “You’ve got that look. Like you’re about to say something that’s gonna make me regret coming up here.”

Ekko sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing serious. Just… you know. Hypothetically.”

Vi snorted. “Hypothetically? Okay, shoot. I’ll play along.”

He shifted his weight, suddenly feeling every ounce of awkwardness press down on him. “So… say I had this friend.”

“A friend, huh?” Vi grinned, already sensing where this was going. “What kind of trouble is this ‘friend’ of yours getting into?”

“Not trouble,” Ekko clarified quickly. “He’s… going on a trip. To visit, uh… someone.”

“Ohhhh.” Vi leaned back with a knowing smirk. “Someone special, I take it?”

Ekko hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, yeah, she’s special.”

Vi raised an eyebrow. “So what’s the problem? He—your friend—wants to impress her or something?”

“Sort of,” Ekko admitted, staring out at the city below. “He just… wants to make sure she’s, you know… happy.”

Vi let out a loud laugh, throwing her head back. “Oh, I got you, Little Man. You’re asking for relationship advice, aren’t you?”

Ekko groaned. “It’s not like that—”

“Oh, no, it totally is,” Vi interrupted, elbowing him playfully. “And let me tell you, you came to the right person. I am basically an expert on making people happy.”

“Uh-huh.” Ekko gave her a skeptical look. “Pretty sure you’ve scared away more people than you’ve impressed.”

“Details,” Vi said, waving him off. “Now, listen up. First of all, you gotta be confident. Girls love confidence. Walk in like you own the place—”

“I’m not trying to intimidate her,” Ekko cut in, rolling his eyes. “She’s not like that.”

Vi paused, studying him for a moment. Her smirk softened into something more genuine. “Okay, so she’s not the ‘big gestures’ type. What is she like, then? Hypothetically.”

Ekko hesitated, the words caught in his throat. How could he explain Jinx without actually saying it was her? How could he describe someone so chaotic and unpredictable, someone who could switch between grinning like a kid at a candy store and blowing something up in the blink of an eye? Someone who made his chest ache in ways he didn’t quite understand?

“She’s… complicated,” he said finally. “But in a good way. Like, she’s always full of energy, but sometimes I feel like… like she’s carrying the whole world on her shoulders, you know? And she’s got this laugh—it’s loud and kinda wild, but it’s… perfect.”

Vi raised an eyebrow, her grin returning. “Wow, you’ve got it bad, huh?”

“Shut up,” Ekko muttered, his face heating up.

Vi laughed, leaning back on her hands. “Alright, alright. I’ll be serious. If you want to make her happy, just… be there for her. Listen to her. Let her know she’s not alone, even when things get rough. And don’t be afraid to tell her how you feel. Girls like hearing that stuff.”

Ekko frowned. “What if I screw it up?”

“You won’t,” Vi said firmly. “You’re a good guy, Ekko. Whoever this girl is, she’s lucky to have you. And if she doesn’t see that, then she’s the one screwing up.”

For a moment, Ekko didn’t say anything, the weight of Vi’s words sinking in. He thought about Jinx—her bright blue eyes, the way she laughed at her own jokes, the way she kept pushing him away even when it was obvious she didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t know if he’d ever have the right words to say to her, but maybe… maybe Vi was right. Maybe just being there was enough.

“Thanks, Vi,” he said quietly.

“Anytime, Little Man,” she replied, ruffling his hair and hopping off the railing. “Now, go make your friend proud, okay?”

Ekko smiled, watching her walk away. “Yeah… I will.”

And for the first time in a while, he actually believed it.

[xoxorealitygalore]

Grown Woman

Tama Tonga x Black OC

Summary: 30-year-old Tahiry has always been seen as a baby and underestimated by those around her. When tragedy strikes and her best friend passes away, Tahiry is suddenly thrust into the role of legal guardian for her young goddaughter, Harmony. As she navigates the challenges of motherhood and responsibility, Tahiry begins to transform into a woman of depth and resilience. Yet, it’s only Tama, who truly notices the changes in her.

I'm a grown woman (Yeah, I'm a grown woman)

I can do whatever I want (I can do whatever I want, hey)

I can be bad if I want (Mhm)

I can do wrong if I want (Mhm)

I can live fast if I want (Mhm)

I can go slow all night long (Mhm)

I'm a grown woman

tahirytravis ✓

1,325 Posts 6.6M Followers 110 Following

Tahiry Travis

Just being me 💓

Liked by trinity_fatu, uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, and 477,246 others

tahirytravis Dear Masika, it’s been two months since you left this earth, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. The world feels so different without your laughter, your light, your love. But in the midst of the grief, I find comfort knowing I get to help raise the beautiful little girl you brought into this world. She carries so much of you in her—your smile, your strength, your heart. I promise you, I’ll love her like my own, and I’ll make sure she grows up knowing just how special her mama was. I miss you more than words can say, but I’m here, Masika. I’ll keep going, for you, for her, and for all the memories we shared. Love you forever. ❤️

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Two months had passed since the heart-wrenching day Tahiry buried her best friend, Masika. The funeral was a blur—raw emotion, the sharp sting of loss, and the overwhelming sense that nothing would ever be the same. Masika had been her closest confidante, her partner in crime, the person who understood Tahiry like no one else.

The suddenness of her passing left a void that nothing seemed capable of filling. It wasn’t just the absence of a friend; it was the absence of a promise that had always been there—shared dreams, mutual support, the plans they had made for the future.

And now, in a cruel twist of fate, that future was no longer possible. But amidst the sorrow, another responsibility had fallen squarely on Tahiry’s shoulders—one she hadn’t been prepared for: she was now the legal guardian of Masika’s daughter, her Goddaughter, Harmony.

As she looked at the young girl—only three years old—Tahiry saw not just the innocence of a child, but the weight of the promise she had made to Masika. She had promised her best friend she would take care of Harmony, and now, more than ever, that promise felt like an anchor around her neck. It was a responsibility Tahiry never imagined she would bear alone.

The transition had been difficult. Raising a child was a monumental task, especially when the child was grieving the loss of her mother. Tahiry wasn’t prepared for the sleepless nights, the tantrums, or the endless questioning from Harmony about why her mommy wasn’t coming back. She wasn’t prepared for the emotional rollercoaster that being a mother brought.

But she was standing strong.

Her mind was full of the “what-ifs,” of course. What if she wasn’t doing this right? What if she failed Masika, failed Harmony? What if she wasn’t enough for the child who depended on her now? But every time doubt crept in, she reminded herself of Masika’s wish—that Harmony be surrounded by people who loved her, people who would step in and give her the stability she needed. Tahiry had to be strong for Harmony, not just for her friend, but for herself too. The stakes were too high to fail.

But there was one thing that grated on her nerves—her family’s constant concern. Particularly her older sister, Takecia. Takecia had always been the protective one, the one who saw Tahiry as the baby of the family, no matter how old she was. Nine years older, Takecia had grown up watching over her younger sister, and despite Tahiry being a grown woman now, a successful professional in her own right, Takecia still saw her as the child she once was. Tahiry was tired of being treated like a child. She had responsibilities now. She had a life to manage, a job to do, and a child to care for. Why couldn’t her family see that?

This resentment bubbled under the surface, but Tahiry did her best to keep her frustration hidden. There were days when she just wanted to scream, to tell her family to stop treating her like a kid, to let her make her own decisions. But it wasn’t just Takecia. Everyone in her family seemed to want to "look out" for her, questioning her every move, making her feel like she was too young, too inexperienced, and too incapable of handling the heavy weight she had suddenly been given. Even her brother-in-law’s brothers felt the need to step in. She was the baby of the family, and to them, that meant she was still the child who needed protection.

Tahiry walked into the arena with Harmony, trying to focus on the task at hand. Today, she wasn’t just Tahiry—the grieving Godmother. She was Tahiry, Director of Sports and Entertainment Relations for WWE. A powerful position that required focus, strength, and a sense of professionalism that sometimes felt impossible to maintain when the emotional weight of life at home followed her every step. But today, she had to push everything aside, at least for a little while, and focus on her job.

"Come on, Harmony," she said as they made their way into the bustling arena, the sound of staff talking and the excitement of the SmackDown Live show vibrating through the air. Harmony waved excitedly at the crew as they passed by, her little face lighting up with joy. Tahiry smiled at the sight. It was moments like these—moments when she saw Harmony so carefree—that made all the pain, all the struggles, feel a little lighter. She couldn’t let her down.

Tahiry worked for WWE, and her role as Director of Sports and Entertainment Relations was demanding, to say the least. She was tasked with a wide range of responsibilities, from supporting talent to managing relationships with sports publicists, talent agents, and professional athletes. Her job often had her on the road, coordinating events, scouting new talent, and overseeing logistics for various activations and campaigns. It was a high-energy, high-profile job that demanded her full attention, but it also allowed her to be surrounded by some of the most influential people in sports and entertainment.

Today, however, was about booking talent for upcoming football games—an appearance that would keep her busy for the next few hours.

As they walked through the arena, Tahiry’s phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at it quickly—just another reminder of how quickly things moved in her world. But then she noticed someone familiar walking towards them: Jonathan, her brother-in-law’s brother. Tahiry couldn’t help but mentally roll her eyes. She knew what was coming. Jonathan was always hovering, always making sure she was "taken care of." He had a tendency to treat her like a little sister in need of constant supervision, and tonight was no exception.

“Hey, Tahiry,” Jonathan said, his easy smile stretching across his face. “Hey, Harmony,” he said, bending down to scoop the young girl into his arms.

Tahiry knew what was coming next before he even said it. "Come on, the fam has a private locker room tonight."

“We’re fine sitting in catering, Jon,” she replied, trying to assert her independence.

Jonathan, as usual, ignored her wishes. He started walking away with Harmony in his arms, fully expecting Tahiry to follow.

And she did.

It wasn’t a matter of needing him to babysit; it was just easier to go along with it than argue. The locker room was set up for a few of the WWE superstars and their families, a space where they could relax before the show. When they arrived, Trinity, Sefa, and Jacob were already there, chatting casually as they prepared for the evening. Trinity was the first to spot Harmony.

"Harmony!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she stood to take the young girl from Jonathan’s arms. Harmony smiled brightly and hugged Trinity, clearly happy to be around the people who had become like family to her since her mother’s passing.

Tahiry walked into the room, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the encounter with Jonathan. “Hey,” she greeted everyone, placing her bags down. "I’m going to leave my stuff here for now. Got a lot of work to do tonight.”

Before she could even get settled, Jacob called out to her. "Hold on now, you gotta let us know where you're going."

"Seriously?" Tahiry sighed, rolling her eyes. "I’ll be in the gorilla or catering, working."

"We’re just looking out for you," Sefa said, the protective tone in his voice making her grit her teeth.

Tahiry bit her tongue. She was so tired of hearing that. "I know, I know," she muttered, kissing Harmony’s cheek before walking out of the locker room, her laptop and phone in hand.

Outside, she bumped into Tama—her biggest distraction. Tama, or Alipate as he was known outside of WWE, was a professional wrestler with a presence that made heads turn. Tall, imposing, and impossibly handsome, he was also someone who had captured Tahiry’s heart from the moment she met him. Despite their undeniable chemistry, Tahiry never acted on her feelings. Her family was too protective, too quick to judge anyone who got close to her. And Tama—despite his obvious interest in her—respected that boundary, even if it meant burying his feelings.

"Hey, Tahiry," he said, a smile spreading across his face when he saw her. “You look so pretty, I like your hair like this.”

Tahiry smiled, her heart doing a little flip. He always knew how to make her feel special, even with just a simple compliment. She had the biggest crush on him—one that she knew was pointless, given their circumstances. But that didn’t make it any easier to ignore.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice softening. “I actually need to talk to you about going to an appearance.”

Tama groaned but smiled. “Let me guess, a football game?”

“Exactly,” Tahiry said with a laugh. “I know you don’t like public appearances, but it’s part of your job.”

Tama sighed. "I’ll only do it if you come with me."

Tahiry laughed, surprised at his sudden proposal. “If that’s the only way to get you to do it, then I’ll go with you.”

"You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said, although there was a warmth in his voice that made her believe he was genuinely grateful for her accepting his offer.

“No, I want to go,” Tahiry said. “Let’s do it.”

Before she could turn to go, Tama asked, his voice quieter now, “How are you doing?”

Tahiry’s face tightened. Two months had passed, but the grief was still raw. Her best friend—her sister in everything but blood—was gone. How was she supposed to answer that question? How could she explain the constant ache, the feeling of being pulled in a thousand different directions?

Tama must have sensed her distress. He pulled her into a gentle hug, his strong arms offering comfort she hadn’t realized she needed. She buried her face in his chest, letting herself be vulnerable for a moment. “I just miss her so much,” she whispered, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Tama didn’t say anything at first. He just rubbed the back of her head, offering the kind of tenderness that Tahiry hadn’t allowed herself to feel in weeks. "Some days I’m great, and others just hit me like a ton of bricks," she confessed.

“I know it’s hard,” Tama murmured softly.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, the noise of the arena fading into the background. For once, Tahiry allowed herself to be cared for, to be held.

Eventually, she pulled away, embarrassed by her emotional outburst. “Sorry for crying all over you,” she said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Tama gave her a gentle smile. "You don’t have to apologize for crying. You can cry all over me anytime," he said, the sincerity in his voice comforting her in a way she hadn’t expected.

Tahiry smiled through her tears and nodded. They parted ways, and Tahiry returned to the locker room. Harmony was sitting on the floor, brushing Trinity’s hair while they waited for the show to begin.

“Oh, you’re finally back,” Trinity said with a grin. “I need you to do my makeup.”

Tahiry sighed, dropping her things on the table before going to Trinity’s side. As she worked, Sefa and Jacob’s voices echoed in the background.

"Why were you hugging Tama?" Sefa asked, clearly too curious for his own good.

Tahiry ignored him at first, focusing on the delicate art of makeup. But Sefa didn’t let it go.

“You heard me,” he pressed.

She finally answered, her voice tired but firm. “He asked me how I was doing, and I broke down. That’s why we were hugging.”

“Are you okay?” Trinity asked, her voice soft with concern.

Tahiry paused, looking at Harmony, who had fallen quiet, staring at an old video of her and Masika dancing in the living room. Harmony whispered, “I miss mommy.”

Tahiry quickly wrapped her arms around the little girl. “I miss her too,” she whispered back, holding Harmony close as the weight of her grief settled back onto her shoulders.

The world moved on, but Tahiry felt suspended in time, torn between the life she was building for herself and the memories of the life that had been taken too soon.

Tahiry’s house was a place that once felt like her sanctuary, a private space where she could unwind after a long day, away from the noise and chaos of the world. But today, the quiet had been replaced by a steady hum of voices, laughter, and the clatter of pots and pans.

She stepped into the kitchen, a little annoyed, to find it already overtaken. Her sister, Takecia, was talking animatedly to her husband, Joshua, who was rummaging through the fridge as if it were his own. Her nephew, Jeyce, was lounging on the couch in the living room, engrossed in his game console, and her goddaughter, Harmony, just three years old, was playing in the corner of the room with her toys.

The house had become an extension of Takecia’s family, and at this moment, Tahiry wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“You need to go grocery shopping,” Joshua said, his voice light but filled with the hint of authority as he reached for a jar of peanut butter. His tone suggested that this had become a routine request, one that Tahiry had come to dread.

Tahiry folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes, glancing at the half-empty shelves of her fridge. “I wouldn’t have to if you and everyone else didn’t come here damn near every day eating my shit up,” she retorted, her voice tinged with frustration.

Joshua just giggled at her, clearly amused by her irritation. He was used to it. “Instacart some groceries and I’ll pay for it,” he offered, flashing a grin over his shoulder.

Tahiry gave him a side-eye, not entirely trusting his offer. “Remember you said that,” she warned, her fingers already tapping on her phone as she pulled up the Instacart app. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the available options.

The tension was brief, but Takecia, always quick to stir the pot, couldn’t resist joining in. “So... what’s this I hear about Tama being a little extra friendly with you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter. “You know he’s twelve years older than you.”

Tahiry’s immediate response was a simple roll of the eyes, her body stiffening in a defensive posture. “And?” she asked, a challenging edge to her voice.

Takecia pursed her lips and shook her head. “You don’t need to be getting involved with someone that old,” she said, her voice laced with concern, though it was clear she didn’t fully understand the dynamic.

Tahiry didn’t hesitate. “I can do whatever I want,” she shot back, clearly irritated by her sister’s unsolicited opinion.

Before Takecia could respond, Joshua piped in, trying to ease the tension, but also to reinforce Takecia’s concerns. “Nah, you can’t. I don’t want him trying to take advantage of you, Tahiry,” he said gently. “You’ve already got enough on your plate.”

Takecia nodded in agreement. “Exactly,” she added, her gaze softening. “You’re too young for him anyway.”

Tahiry’s expression hardened. “I’m thirty years old,” she said firmly, her voice steady. “I’m old enough to make my own choices, and if I want to deal with a man twelve years older than me, then I’ll do just that.”

“Yeah, but we’re just worried about you,” Joshua said, his tone still gentle but filled with concern. “You don’t need anyone adding more stress to your life.”

Tahiry shook her head, feeling the familiar weight of their protective instincts pressing down on her. She opened the Instacart app once more, but before she could ask Joshua for his credit card to pay for the groceries, she turned back to face them. “You guys are so hard-headed,” she muttered, trying to let the irritation roll off her shoulders.

Takecia let out an exasperated sigh, clearly fed up with the constant back-and-forth. “You never want to listen to me,” she said, her voice soft but full of frustration.

Tahiry’s laugh was bitter. “Because you think I’m still five years old and not a grown woman,” she snapped. “Why would I listen to you when you don’t listen to me?”

The conversation paused in the heavy silence that followed, and it was in that moment, just as Tahiry was about to relent and give Joshua the credit card details, that Harmony’s small, trembling voice broke through.

“I want mommy,” Harmony cried, her face scrunched up in distress, and her little body quivering as she ran toward Tahiry, her arms reaching out for comfort.

Tahiry instinctively crouched down, opening her arms to scoop the little girl into her embrace. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” she asked softly, brushing a tear from the child’s cheek.

“Mommy,” Harmony whimpered, her tiny voice breaking as the pain of her mother’s loss resurfaced. Tahiry’s heart twisted painfully as she held the child, knowing full well the profound grief that still gripped Harmony’s young heart.

Masika’s death had shattered the little girl’s world. Two months had passed, and still, Harmony couldn’t fully understand why her mother wasn’t there to tuck her into bed at night, or why she couldn’t feel her warm embrace. Tahiry had always been the one to step in, trying her best to offer the love and stability that Harmony desperately needed. But it wasn’t the same, not even close.

Tahiry kissed Harmony’s temple, trying to soothe the little girl’s aching soul, though her own heart ached just as much. She, too, was still in denial, clinging to the hope that Masika would walk through the door one day, telling them it was all some sort of cruel test. But Masika wouldn’t be walking through that door. The reality was a hard pill to swallow, and each day felt like an insurmountable challenge for everyone in the house, especially for Harmony.

Takecia watched the scene unfold with a deep, quiet sympathy. She understood the pain her younger sister was carrying, even if she didn’t fully know how to help her heal. Losing Masika had been a blow to them all, but for Harmony, it was like losing a piece of herself. Takecia’s gaze softened as she looked at the two women—her sister and her niece—clinging to each other in a bond that felt fragile, like a single thread holding them together.

Tahiry murmured to Harmony, trying to find some comfort in the words she had said to the child before, something that had helped her through difficult moments. “Remember what I said about missing mommy?” she asked gently.

Harmony nodded, wiping her tears. “She’s in my heart,” she whispered, her voice soft as if testing the words, still unsure of their meaning.

“That’s right,” Tahiry confirmed, nodding as she held Harmony even tighter. “She’s in your heart. Every time your heart beats, that’s a little part of her reminding you that she’s with you.”

Takecia couldn’t help it. The tears that had been welling up for weeks now finally broke free, spilling down her face as she witnessed the raw grief of her little sister. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Joshua, who had been standing silently by, moved to take his wife into his arms. He knew that, despite her tough exterior, Takecia’s heart was breaking for her sister, just as his was.

Jeyce wandered into the room, his face lit up with the energy of a typical 12-year-old boy. He noticed Harmony’s tear-streaked face immediately, and without hesitation, he reached for her, taking her gently into his arms. “Come on, Harmony,” he said softly. “I’ll let you play the game with me.”

Harmony sniffled, but the prospect of playing a video game with her older cousin was enough to pull her from her sorrow, at least temporarily. She nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around Jeyce’s neck as he carefully carried her to the living room.

Tahiry watched them go, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “He would make a great big brother,” she murmured, her tone light but filled with warmth. “Y’all should give him a little sibling.”

Joshua and Takecia both groaned in unison. “This factory is closed and out of business,” Takecia quipped, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Tahiry chuckled softly, her own grief momentarily pushed aside by the banter. She wiped the stray tears from her eyes, the warmth of the moment a brief respite from the emotional storm that raged within her.

Just as she thought the moment of calm would last, her phone lit up with a new message notification. She glanced down at the screen and saw a text from Tama. ‘Hey, how are you? I was wondering if I could pick you up for the game tomorrow.’ Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of his words.

Joshua noticed the smile creeping onto her face, and his brows furrowed in suspicion. “Who’s texting you?” he asked, his voice laced with an edge of protectiveness.

“Your daddy,” Tahiry answered quickly, not bothering to hide her amusement.

Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “That better not be who I think it is,” he warned, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Tahiry’s smile only grew wider. “And if it is?” she asked, not bothering to back down.

Joshua leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll call Joe and them so quick to jump his ass,” he muttered under his breath, his protective instincts kicking in as usual.

Tahiry laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh my gosh,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re such a drama king.”

But even as the playful exchange continued, something lingered in the back of her mind. Tama’s message had stirred something within her, something she hadn’t fully allowed herself to acknowledge until now. There was a part of her that was ready to open her heart to Tama, even if the path forward was complicated, and she wasn’t sure where it would lead.

But for now, she allowed herself a moment of peace, wrapped in the comfort of her family, as chaotic and imperfect as it was.

[birthofvcnus]

okay so this happened last week and today the lady came back and i’m so happy about it because i got to check on her (she’s doing better! she had issues moving around for a couple of days because her body was stiff and it ached but she’s okay now) and we hugged and it makes me warm inside to know what despite us being complete strangers this lady and i love each other deeply and i’ll always carry a little part of her with me in my heart

[puppppppppy]

personal character design headcanons + brainrot

Note: the re-bound!au does NOT belong to me, it belongs to @chipper-smol I’m just not normal about it lol

[edwinisms]

see I can’t accept charles’ comic background and socioeconomic status as canon for the show because if I did that would mean the whole group would be a bunch of rich kids and that’s a horrifying concept

[daylighteclipsed]

TTS Cass being insanely jealous of Gothel abandoning her for Rapunzel when Cass knows Gothel sucked (literally stole Rapunzel and kept her prisoner for almost 2 decades) and when Cass has a loving stepfather is still so fucking stupid. And it doesn’t even make sense in the context of Crossing the Line.