#my constant mood is...sleepy

[jojotier]

welcome to "am i actually out of control with zero safety net at the bottom of this cliff or did i just not sleep enough last night"

[ditzyrafe]

— wanting to procreate w. bf!rafe

warnings — breeding kink, needy!reader, lewd language

a/n — the request is here

the ache deep in your womb is a constant, throbbing companion, a primal urge that happens almost every other day. it's more than just desire for rafe. it's a deeper, more fundamental need: to be filled, to be seeded, to feel it deep inside of you.

you wake him up before dawn, crawling on top of him, your hips already grinding against his sleepy, semi-hard length. "rafe," you whisper, your voice husky with need. "i need you, rafey… please…"

he groans, blinking up at you through heavy lids, a confused frown etching his brow. "baby, it's still dark."

"don't care," you murmur, already guiding him inside you, the familiar stretch a satisfying feeling. "need to feel you. need you inside me, daddy." you start moving, noticing his confused reaction to the new nickname.

he catches on quickly, his initial drowsiness replaced by a familiar, dark fire in his eyes. he knows this mood, this particular intensity you get. his hands grip your hips, meeting your thrusts, his own desire igniting rapidly. "i get it, you wanna get filled deep. ain't that right?" he growls against your skin, the words a filthy promise.

"yes," you gasp, riding him harder. "fill me up, rafey. all day. don't stop."

and he doesn't. the day becomes a blur of tangled limbs and slick skin, punctuated by your increasingly desperate pleas for him to cum inside you, again and again. you move from the bed to the shower, his hands splayed on the wet tiles as he takes you from behind, the hot water sluicing over your bodies. you fuck on the kitchen counter while breakfast burns forgotten on the stove, his fingers tangled in your hair, your cries muffled against his shoulder. each orgasm is a stepping stone, each time he spills himself deep within you.

"is this enough?" he pants, hours later, sprawled on the living room rug, you straddling him agains, relentless in your pursuit. "fuck, baby. you're insatiable."

"not yet," you whisper, leaning down to kiss him deeply. "more. i need more of you inside me." you can feel the subtly twinges in your abdomen, the heightened sensitivity, your body primed, waiting. every cell seems to scream for his seed.

he groans, but his hips lift, meeting your renewed rhythm. he's tired, you can see it, feel it in the slight tremor in his muscles. but your relentless need, your explicit desire to carry his child, seems to fuel a different kind of energy in him, a possessive, primal drive to provide, to claim you in the most fundamental way possible. he watches your face, the desperation in your eyes, the way you bite your lip to stifle your moans, and a dark, satisfied smirk plays on his lips.

"my horny little baby."

taglist ; @mojitrvo @mayanqueenxx @kisses4rafey @zoenighshade555 @feverg1rl @onxlyemery @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @yncoded @millie--billie @laniirackssss @slut4you @g3t2kn0w @kravitzwhore @dollyfiles @kild4re @zzhenyac @sparklyananas @dsfault @rafesprttyprincess @lynst91 @nonbeliever1 @drewsephrry @k4yr14 @babydollll-bunny @leleasalwaysblog @cokewithcameron @mialuvsrafe @urcoolgf @love-ella333 @amelialovesrafe @kaisage45 @goodsoup19 (join here) | divider creds ; @/anitalenia @/fairytopea

© written by ditzyrafe — do not steal or claim as ur own, stealing will result in me blocking u, any resemblance to any other story is simply coincidental!

[irisintheafterglow]

uno wild card: stop writing for coparenting!megumi with satoru or draw 25

me, with 95 cards already in my hand:

also cw this is angst/comfort 'cause apparently i'm in the mood for pain

"shh, shh, baby. you're okay. i'm right here. you're okay." his breath is still rapidly uneven, chest heaving while you hold him in your lap on his mattress. "megs, you need to breathe. you're okay. i've got you." it wasn't often that megumi had nightmares; but, every few months, something triggered in his mind and had him seeing monsters that weren't real. as if by instinct, you felt that something was off tonight. there wasn't any time for explanation as you peeled satoru's arms from your torso, just a hyperfocus on the panicked child in the next room over.

"i don't-i don't-" his voice breaks into strangled cries and his little fingers grip tighter on your clothes, one of satoru's old pajama shirts. fat drops run down his cheeks, eyes irritated and red. you continue to hush the boy, gently running your fingers through his hair as his tears soak through the fabric of your top.

"they won't get you, megs. i promise," you whisper into his temple, pressing your lips tenderly to his forehead. "you're okay." his chokes for air have decreased slightly, but he's still trembling like you'd just pulled him from a frozen-over lake.

"where's satoru?" you sigh, chest aching at the implications of those two words. it wasn't that megumi didn't want you there. whatever woke him up must have distressed him so much that he was actually acknowledging your boyfriend. it broke your heart into a few more pieces.

"next door, fast asleep. do you want me to go get him?" he immediately tenses against you, wrapping his arms around your neck so you couldn't get up. "megs?"

"please don't leave me," he pleads. his voice is small and riddled with fear. you nod, slipping one arm under his tiny legs so that he's hanging on you like a monkey.

"can i bring you to our bed? is that okay?"

"mhmm," he hums exhaustedly into your shoulder. his breaths have evened out to a relatively calm rhythm, but he still holds on to you like you'd launch into the stratosphere if he let go. pulling back the covers with one hand, you gently set the boy down next to satoru, who sleepily blinks open a curious blue eye.

"and where might you be going?" he quietly asks in the darkness of the room, propped on an elbow as you make to go back to megumi's bed. megumi was already fast asleep, curled into himself with satoru's hand protectively on his head.

"i'll be right back; i'm gonna go grab his wolf."

"come back quickly. i miss you," he yawns and you can tell it's taking a lot out of him to not fall back asleep. still, his constant need for your presence has you chuckling under your breath.

"i've been awake for five minutes, love."

"five minutes too long, so hurry up." it's barely twenty seconds that you're gone, picking up megumi's favorite stuffie and crawling back under the blankets with your boys. his arms unconsciously wrap around the wolf and he sighs deeply in contentment. despite the calm, your chest still felt like it was aching for the boy and it was almost too much. it almost is, until satoru's hand reaches out to brush your cheek with his knuckles. "hey, beautiful."

"hi, handsome. you okay?"

"i'm great, albeit a little sleepy," he drawls, glancing down at the snoring kid between your bodies. "nightmare?" you hum in assent, pulling megumi closer when he flips over to hug you. satoru takes his chance and tugs both of you into him until his arms stretched over both you and megumi. "he say what it was about?"

"he didn't, though it must have been pretty bad since he was asking for you," you reply. you expect a lightheartedly indignant protest, but all you're met with is a deep, deep frown. "why the face?"

"poor kid shouldn't be having nightmares so bad that he forgets he hates me." you scoff, careful not to wake the kid. your kid.

"he doesn't hate you, satoru."

"okay," he concedes, "'mildly dislikes' for the sake of comedy."

"there you go," you smile at him and he gazes lovingly back at you.

"you know, i really didn't plan for you to be part of this mentorship equation," he confesses and your eyebrow raises in question of his point. "but," he continues, pressing a kiss to your nose. "i'm so glad you're in it."

"i love you, satoru."

"you promise?"

"on the moon and the stars."

[prythiansprincess]

if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️

here (in your arms).

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.

author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.

The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.

You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.

Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.

"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"

"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"

"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."

The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.

"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"

"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.

"There's a door there, amorina."

"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"

Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."

"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."

"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"

"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."

Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"

"You tricked me!"

"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"

"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."

"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."

"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."

"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."

A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."

"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."

Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.

"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."

"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.

"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."

"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."

"That's what I thought."

You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."

"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.

"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"

You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."

Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.

You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."

He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"

"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.

"Oh? Care to share?"

"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."

"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.

"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."

The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."

"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."

"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.

You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"

Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."

With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."

Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.

"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."

Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar

[thirteenheavens]

Congratulations on 700!! 🌟🌟

Can u write a fluffy story ab how reader and dk have a toddler girl and their daughter is competing with reader for dk’s attention I feel like that’s so him coded😭

Notes: see guys this is what I mean when I say I’ll get request eventually hehe hope you enjoy some pure flufff

You and Dokyeom were sitting on the couch, your daughter sitting on your lap. She was playing with your hair, tugging on it every so often to get your attention. Dokyeom was cuddled up next to you, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. He pouted as he noticed your daughter's constant attention-seeking.

"Babe," he whined, nuzzling his face into your neck. "I want cuddles too." Your daughter giggled at his pouty expression, finding his jealousy amusing. She pulled on your hair again, harder this time, as if trying to prove a point. You laughed at the two of them, trying to balance the attention between your husband and your daughter. "I have two clingy babies," you teased, ruffling your daughter's hair affectionately.

Dokyeom grumbled in protest, his grip on you tightening. "I'm not a baby," he protested, his pout growing more pronounced. "I'm your husband." Your daughter giggled again, finding Dokyeom's sulking even funnier. She reached up and patted his cheek, as if trying to comfort him.

Dokyeom looked surprised as your daughter patted his cheek, his pout slowly fading into a smile. "Hey, she's comforting me," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. You laughed at the sight, loving how your daughter was able to lighten the mood so easily. "Looks like she's on my side," you teased, tickling her tummy.

Dokyeom pretended to be offended, but he couldn't help but smile as he watched you play with your daughter. "Traitor," he muttered jokingly, ruffling her hair again. Your daughter giggled and squirmed in your lap, enjoying the attention from both you and Dokyeom. She leaned back against your chest, yawning widely.

"I think someone's getting sleepy," you said, stroking her hair gently. "Time for a nap, sweetheart." Dokyeom pouted again, clearly not wanting to share you with anyone. "But I want more cuddles," he whined, burying his face in your shoulder. You chuckled and patted Dokyeom's head affectionately. "You'll get your cuddles later, I promise," you said, trying to soothe him. "For now, let's get our little princess settled down for a nap."

Your daughter yawned again, her eyes drooping as she snuggled into your chest. Dokyeom reluctantly released his grip on you, allowing you to lift your daughter into your arms and carry her to her room. Once she was tucked into bed, you returned to the living room to find Dokyeom sprawled out on the couch, looking grumpy.

You rolled your eyes at his grumpy expression and sat down next to him, poking his side. "Stop pouting," you said, a smile on your face. "You're not fooling anyone." Dokyeom huffed and crossed his arms, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'm not pouting," he insisted, trying to maintain his grumpy facade. "I just don't like sharing you with anyone."

You laughed and shook your head, amused by his stubbornness. "You're such a child sometimes," you teased, ruffling his hair. "But I love you anyway." Dokyeom's pout softened into a smile as he leaned into your touch. "I know," he said, his voice softer now. "And I love you too. Even if you do love our daughter more than me."

You grinned as you saw him trying to hide his smile, knowing that he was just being playful and wanted something. "You want kisses, huh?" you teased, leaning closer to him. Dokyeom tried to act nonchalant, but his cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Maybe," he mumbled, looking away from you.

You chuckled and cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. "Say please," you said, your voice firm but playful. Dokyeom's blush deepened as he realized he was caught. He huffed again, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. "Please," he said, finally giving in. "I want kisses."

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his, savoring the feeling of his soft lips against yours. Dokyeom melted into the kiss, all traces of his grumpiness gone as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer. As you pulled away from the kiss, Dokyeom was smiling widely, his eyes sparkling with happiness. "Now I'm happy," he said, his arms still wrapped tightly around you.

"You were just sulking because you wanted attention, weren't you?" you teased, running your fingers through his hair. Dokyeom nodded sheepishly, not even bothering to deny it. "Maybe," he admitted, a hint of mischief in his voice. "But I think I'm going to be getting a lot more attention now."

[pynkgothicka]

Hey!

I love ur blog and ur writing they

Soo good can I request a yandere husband taehyung x reader where it's the typical wife worship husband kind lf thing also can u pls make him really dark too with a non-con

Sorry if it's too much

Love ya

Ｍｉｌｌｉｏｎ Ｄｏｌｌａｒ Ｍａｎ ＫＴＨ

Pairing - Dark! Husband! Kim Taehyung x AFAB! Reader

Featuring - None!

Word Count - Around 1.8k

Tags and Warnings - Domestic Violence, Non-Con, Breeding Kink, Mentions of blood, forest sex scene, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Allusions to kidnapping

Authors Note - Late Valetines Day story! This is my last req!! Sooo some more personal inspiered stuff coming soon! Also please let me know if you guys like the longer more descriptive fics.

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! These depictions don't pertain to reality. This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

He was your world, your everything.

Or at least that’s what he told you.

Soon, you found yourself having to repeat these thoughts, constantly reminding yourself of them, almost blinding yourself to the harsh reality of just how miserable you had become.

You cut potatoes, sprinkling herbal seasoning on top. You put them in a pan and cover them with virgin olive oil. Placing the pan in the oven, you set a timer.

The beep reminded you of the constant threats and warnings he provided. He required dinner to be prepared by the time he returned home from work every day. Especially today, Valentine's Day. The day you are supposed to be the most appreciative of what Kim Taehyung has given you.

During your cleanup, you suddenly felt a pair of hands encircle your waist, and a broad nose press against your neck. You instinctively leaned into the touch, fully aware of who it was. "Hello, my love," he murmured, his warm breath gently caressing your neck.

"Hello, how was your day at work?" You inquire, speaking softly with a touch of sweetness. He grunted, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter. "Did you have a tough day?”

Taehyung uttered dismissively, "They were just bothering me, honestly. All I wanted was to be back home with you." He says, planting a kiss on your neck once more. You could feel his cock harden against the curve of your back. You shivered noticeably. His black hair brushed against your neck. "Are you cold baby?”

You glance downwards and shake your head. "No... Your hair just tickled me a little bit.”

Taehyung nodded to himself as he responded, "I brought you some beautiful roses and your favorite chocolates." He lamented slightly, his hips pressing against your back. You stayed quiet. "What do you say?”

“Thank you… I-I’m making dinner… I’m sorry I couldn't get you anything more.” You apologized. But you both knew the reason why.

You had no access to your funds.

No access to a vehicle to leave.

No knowledge of where you lived.

Not even the luxury of owning a phone or the login to any of the house's computers.

Yet Taehyung cooed. “It's okay, I know you love me. I don't need all that stuff.”

Shit. Not even light gaslighting could make him feel sorry and give you more privileges. You nod in agreement as he speaks. “I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner. Don’t wait on cleaning, you know I hate having a dirty kitchen.” Taehyung walks away, gesturing towards the mess on the kitchen counter.

“It’ll get cleaned. I promise.”

💲

After dinner, you prepared to go to bed. You'd expected Taehyung to be asleep by now, but he was up. Book in hand he lay in bed, his nightwear glasses making him look as sophisticated as ever. You gulped, walking towards the bed and crawling in. Crawling into bed next to him, you asked, “Aren't you sleepy yet?”

“No, I can't calm my mind," he stated abruptly. You could tell he was upset at something. It was something you had to pick up on, being with him. He was too emotional, his mood swings frightening you at times. “Where is my laptop?”

Of course that's what it was.

Desperation drove you to try and access Taehyung's laptop. He had left it unattended and you saw it as a chance to try and discover your location. The day you married Taehyung, he had swept you off your feet and whisked you away to an unknown place, leaving you with no knowledge of where you were or how to escape.

The house was nestled in a dense forest, surrounded by trees as far as the eye could see. Sometimes, you would gaze out the window, searching for signs of life in the distance. But all you ever saw was the endless expanse of darkness, an eerie stillness that only made you fear Taehyung more.

The computer taunts you with every failed login attempt, each one feeling like a slap in the face. Frustration and desperation build as you frantically try every password you can think of until finally, with a loud beep, the screen displays "Access Denied." Fury bubbles up inside of you as you realize you've been locked out. Trembling with anger, you snatch the computer and hide it away, unable to face another rejection from this merciless machine.

The silence between you two is deafening.

He flips a page in the book he was reading, seemingly calm but you know better. You can feel his eyes boring into you

"Why are you so quiet?" he questioned, flipping a page in his book. "I know you did something - you turned off the cameras. I received a notification on my phone.”

Quietly, you mustered up the courage to reply. “I-I wanted to…”

"What did you want? To abandon me? On Valentine's Day? After everything I've done for you? After everything I've sacrificed for you?" Taehyung bombarded you with questions, and you couldn't make sense of them. He slammed his book shut and got right in your face. His hands aggressively pulled at the bottom of your nightgown, as if trying to search you for something. You let out a gasp and fought back by kicking at him.

Then you got him. Your foot connecting with his face.

Taehyung jerked back, sitting up abruptly. A metallic taste floods his mouth as he runs his tongue over his now split and bleeding upper lip. “Won't you look at that…”

“T-Tae… I-I’m sorry. Please, I didn't mean it. I-I can pa-” But before you could finish, his hand wrapped around your throat, cutting off your words and squeezing tightly. The impact of your head hitting the wooden headboard sends a jolt of pain through your skull, but it's nothing compared to the fear that grips you as one of his hands grips your throat, his face twisted in a violent rage. Taehyung's grip tightened as he knelt over you, both hands now grasping at your neck.

“What was that for huh? I thought I broke you in… but obviously I didn't do a good enough job huh?” With each point he wanted to get across, he lifted your head and slammed it into the bed. You tried to fight him off, desperately scratching at his arm with your anxiously bitten nails. With each brutal blow, your vision became spotty and distorted until you spotted the vase of roses nearby. The ones he had just brought for you. Without hesitation, you grabbed it and brought it down upon his skull, shattering the delicate glass and sending shards and water flying.

You had only a few seconds to get away.

Your feet thudded against the soft carpet as you sprinted out of the bedroom. Gasping for air, you knew there was no time to stop and catch your breath. Every second counted as you tried to make up for what had been lost.

Racing to the living room, you shoved your feet into house slippers and tore out of the door, darting into the dense woods that surrounded the home. Branches whipped and sliced at you, as you climbed over fallen debris. The idea of stopping flashed through your mind, but you knew you had to follow through.

Trying to see through the minimal amount of light was nearly impossible. The darkness consumed the woods, with only the moon's glow and the trees creating harsh shapes on the forest floor. "Baby! Where did you go? I'm sorry!”

His voice. It was too close, sending a chill down your spine. You quickly ducked behind a towering tree, heart pounding in your chest as you tried to steady your ragged breaths. One hand clamped over your mouth to stifle any noise, the other clenched into a tight fist. "Fuck," Taehyung's voice taunts, followed by the sound of his footsteps approaching. "You got me good, but don't worry. But I can be better okay? We can drop this entire thing and go back to bed…” Taehyung's voice was next to you.

But you aren't falling for that. He wanted you to feel bad. Taehyung's predatory steps echo behind you, coming closer and closer until a vice-like grip seizes your hair, yanking you down to the ground. “I thought we talked about this? This running away shit,” he spat.

"Tae, please, let's just go home... I'm sorry! I promise I won't run again, just please-" Your pleas fall on deaf ears as Taehyung circles around you, his imposing figure casting a looming shadow, pinning you to the dirt and making you feel utterly helpless, the dirt making you feel grimy. You could hear him pull down his pajama pants and you began to cry out. As you struggle to break free, Taehyung's grip tightens and he slams your shoulder back into the ground with a sickening thud. Tears stream down your face as you realize there is no escape from this nightmare.

His hand went to his mouth as he sucked on his middle and index finger. With his other hand, he roughly yanked up your gown until it tore at the seams. You screamed and cried, squeezing your eyes shut in desperate prayer, hoping against hope that this was all just a twisted nightmare inflicted by cruel and malevolent gods.

A shrill cry escapes your lips as your husband rips off your panties and plunges his fingers inside you. They skillfully find your sweet spot, causing you to moan in pleasure. “Already creaming around my fingers, fuck, that's so sexy,” he growls, a mix of desire and dominance in his voice. His head lowers to kiss you messily, leaving a trail of spit on your frightened face. His tongue invades your mouth, despite your attempts to protest.

With the sudden absence of his fingers came the sudden intrusion of his length.

The force of Taehyung's thrusts feels like a battering ram, relentlessly pummeling into you until your body is split in two. Your gasps turn into desperate cries of shock and agony as he continues to ravage you, his lips locked onto yours in a twisted display of affection.

It all left you gasping for air.

Your screams of agony were muffled by Taehyung's unrelenting kisses as he pounded into you mercilessly. You claw and beg for him to stop, tears mingling with the dirt beneath you as he continues to take what he wants from your menatlly broken body.

He persisted, driven by his ultimate goal to finish inside you. His desire was to take control of you, impregnate you with his child.

As you rolled your eyes back in pure ecstasy, Taehyung's cock became coated in slick, sticky cum. The sight only heightened his own arousal and soon he was filling you to the brim with his hot release. Taehyung had a dazed yet blissful look on his face as he gazed at you.

“Don’t turn off those cameras again.”

Let me know through a dm or ask to be included in my official Taglist- @darkuni63 @captainengineer-trixie @chimmisbae @iloverubberduckiez-blog @mageprincess7 @looneybleus @whipwhoops @mayvalentine33

[youlightmeupriorson]

Cuddling | Bat Boys

The biggest question on everyone's mind is how do the crime-stopping vigilantes of Gotham City like to cuddle?

↪ My Masterlist

BRUCE WAYNE 🖤

"Brucie," you smile up at him from your spot in the middle of the king-sized bed, the television playing some show you found on a streaming service. Your eyes skated across your fiancé's large back, the muscles rippling before your eyes.

"Yeah?" He called out to him, running a hand through his black hair. His entire body ached from tonight's mishap and he didn't have to tell you about it. The look was written all over his face.

"C'mere," you extend your hands. "Come cuddle with me."

Bruce chuckled quietly. He wasn't a man who would use the term cuddle but even he wasn't going to deny that being in your arms sounded nice, especially after the night he had. "You should be asleep." He scolds you gently, making his way over after stripping to his boxers.

You smirk and open your arms, feeling as the massive weight of Bruce's body crushes you. A tiny squeak leaves your mouth at the pressure and Bruce quickly accommodates. Sometimes it was scary just how defined Bruce's body was. He had lines of muscle and curves in places you could only pin to imagination. Staring at him unclothed and in his true nature– never failed to steal your breath away.

"Don't start with me... You look like hell." You smirk, your fingertips curling around the strands of hair. You opened your legs a little more to give him some room and slowly, Bruce resumed his position with his scarred-up cheek laying directly against your stomach. He curled his arms around your frame and actually nuzzled into you.

"See? Even the Batman needs to be cuddled..." You whisper, kissing the crown of his head as your fingertips begin their descent along his spine.

"Don't you... Tell the boys about this." Bruce says, a wave of sleepiness overcoming him, much quicker than it had these last few nights.

And he knew exactly why it was easier tonight.

DICK GRAYSON 💙

"BABE!" Dick screamed from upstairs. You nearly dropped your phone at the frantic tone in his voice. You took the stairs two at a time until you reached the top and swerved to find the bedroom door sprung open.

"What?! What's wrong?!" You erupt, gripping the doorknob. But when you were met with the sight of a perfectly fine Dick Grayson, you grumbled a curse word. Your boyfriend walks over to you, his smile widening.

"You came pretty fast. Worried about me?" he smirks, deliciously skimming his fingertips over your bare shoulders before hoisting you to him with his hand on the small of your back. You try to push him off of you but it's no use.

"I should worry about my constant belief that every time you scream, something is wrong." You grimace, giving up on trying to escape his hold. "What do you want?"

Dick grins mercilessly and wraps his arms around you. In one swift motion, he has you in the air, the next your back is hitting the soft mattress. He never takes his arms from around you. Before you have time to question his motives, Dick's hard chest is pressing firmly against your back, and his warm lips are decorating the back of your neck with sweet kisses, meanwhile his arms remain locked around your midsection.

"You screamed... For a cuddle?" You giggle.

"I could go for screaming about something else if you're in the mood... But yes. I just wanted to hold you. That so bad, sweet girl?" Dick purrs against your ear, nipping your earlobe which sends a shock of electricity down your spine.

"No funny business, Dick." You smirk, laying your hands over his.

JASON TODD ❤️

He came inside wordlessly. With his helmet tucked under his arm and his leather jacket hitting the floor with a thud, you lift your eyes from your book to see a bruised and battered Jason Todd. His eyes scan the room and relief washes over him when he sees you cuddled in the sheets.

"Jaybird?" You close your book. He takes his boots off and walks over. Without a word, Jason crawls up the length of the bed until he's beside you. He wraps a strong arm around you and turns your chest to face his. "Hey, what is it?"

Jason shakes his head. "It was a rather... Complicated night. Everything's fine. Everyone's okay. But can I just hold you?" He asks, stroking his thumb over your cheek, his gaze deep with yours.

You won't ever deny him that. You know on harder nights, Jason uses cuddling as a means to exude his emotions that he'd rather not talk about.

"Of course, baby." You smile. Jason smiles in return and leans down to peck your lips.

"Thanks, baby girl." He cradles the back of your head to his neck and you smother yourself in smoke, leather, and cologne. Jason smelled wonderful. You wrap your arms and tangle your legs through his, feeling as Jason squeezes you tightly in his arms, his lips skimming your skin every so often.

He dances his fingers up and down your back and before the night grows older, Jason's softly snoring, and you're trying to wake him back up to properly get ready for bed.

TIM DRAKE ☕️

You walked downstairs to see Tim stretched out on the couch, some report in his hands. Your eyes widen at the sight. You peel your gaze off your boyfriend and to the kitchen table where... Yup. His empty coffee cups and paperwork sit.

"Are you feverish? Since when do you lay down and look over paperwork on a case?" You giggle quietly, causing Tim's eyes to drift from the papers. He smiles lazily and sighs.

"Wanted a change of scenery?" He lies with a laugh.

"Super important?" You nod toward the paper in his hand.

Tim's eyebrows lift. He liked where this was going. "Not... Really. What'd you have in mind, sweetheart?"

Nothing could have prepared him for your running start, followed by your swift launching with arms spread wide. He manuvered by throwing the folder down on the ground and caught you in his arms, where you landed with an audible thud against his chest.

"What was that?!" Tim erupts, both of you coughing and breaking into hysterics. You kiss up his neck and wrap your arms around him.

"Cuddle me?" You muffle into his throat. Tim laughs even louder and wraps both his legs and arms around you, practically bear-hugging you to his chest. Both of your bodies rattle from the laughter filling your living room.

As it slowly subsides and you two can focus on each other's breathing, Tim looks down at you and kisses your cheek softly. He moves a little so you can lay beside him comfortably on the couch where he throws his leg over yours and pins you to his chest with a strong arm and flat hand on your belly. He skims under the fabric of your t-shirt and strokes your skin with light strokes.

He knew he wouldn't get anything else done today. All of his attention now belonged to you.

[lila-lou]

✨His true fate - Part 20/?✨

Summary: Jensen hasn't been happy for years. But it seems almost impossible for him to escape. After another nasty argument between him and his wife, he decides to visit his ´former´ best friend for his birthday. Back in Austin, an encounter awaits him that will turn his life completely upside down.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, age gap, violence, angst

Word Count: 6261

A/N: English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The next morning arrived all too soon. The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred first, your eyes fluttering open to find yourself still wrapped in Jensen’s protective embrace. His warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the soft brush of his breath against your hair provided a comforting start to the day.

Reluctantly, you shifted slightly, trying not to wake him. But Jensen was a light sleeper, especially when he had early flights to catch. His eyes opened slowly, revealing a sleepy but affectionate smile as he looked down at you.

“Morning”, he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

“Good morning”, you replied softly, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw. The reality of the day’s departure hung between you, but you pushed it aside for just a moment longer, savoring the warmth and closeness.

Jensen stretched slightly, his muscles rippling under your touch. “I wish we could stay like this”, he admitted, a hint of sadness in his voice.

“I know”, you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his chest. “But we’ll have more time soon, remember?”.

He nodded, his fingers brushing through your hair. “Yeah, I just hate leaving you”.

You stayed there for a few more precious minutes, holding each other close, memorizing the feeling of being together. But eventually, the clock’s relentless march forward demanded attention. Jensen sighed and gently disentangled himself from you, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“I need to get ready”, he said, glancing back at you with a look that conveyed all the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.

You nodded, watching as he moved to the bathroom. The sound of the shower starting up was a stark reminder that the moment of separation was approaching. You got up slowly, pulling on a robe and heading to the kitchen to make some coffee.

When Jensen emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, you handed him a steaming cup of coffee. “Here you go”, you said with a small smile.

“Thanks”, he replied, taking a sip and savoring the warmth. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close for a moment. “I’m going to miss you”, he said softly.

“I’ll miss you too”, you replied, your voice equally soft.

You both finished your coffee in relative silence, the weight of the farewell hanging over you. When it was time to leave, Jensen picked up his bag and turned to you, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination.

“I’ll call you as soon as I land”, he promised, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your lips. “And every chance I get”.

You nodded, your own eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’ll be waiting”.

With one last lingering kiss, Jensen reluctantly pulled away and headed for the door. You watched him go, your heart aching but filled with hope for the future. The door closed behind him, and you stood there for a moment, letting the silence settle around you.

The next two weeks went by relatively smoothly, even with Jensen being away on set. You managed to stay in touch through frequent calls and texts, the distance made bearable by the constant communication. Today, however, was a pivotal day—Jensen’s flight to Seattle was scheduled, and after just arriving home last night, he was preparing to leave again.

As he packed his stuff early in the morning, the house was quiet except for the occasional rustle of clothes and the soft footsteps on the floor. Despite the early hour, Danneel was already awake, her mood unmistakably sour. Jensen had texted her last night, before they even had a chance to see each other, that he wouldn’t be home until Christmas after today. The news had not been well-received.

Jensen walked down to the kitchen, his bag slung over his shoulder. Danneel stood by the counter, a cup of coffee in her hand, her expression a mix of frustration and disappointment.

“Morning”, he greeted cautiously, setting his bag down and moving to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Danneel looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly. “So, you’re leaving?”.

Jensen replied courteously, “Yeah”.

Danneel’s eyes narrowed further, a hint of suspicion creeping into her voice. “Usually, you come home between conventions, even if it’s just for a few days. But now you’re telling me you’ll be gone for nearly three months straight? What’s really going on?”.

Jensen sighed. “It’s just the way the schedule worked out this time”.

Danneel rolled her eyes, the frustration evident in her voice as she snapped at Jensen. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid, Jensen? I know all too well that the conventions are just on the weekends. What are you doing all the weeks in between?”.

Jensen took a deep breath, trying to remain calm in the face of her anger. “There’s a lot of promotional work, meetings, and other commitments that I have to attend to. It’s not just about the conventions”.

Danneel’s eyes flashed with anger. “And does this have anything to do with your new bitch?”, she asked, her voice laced with venom.

Jensen’s jaw tightened, feeling a mix of guilt and frustration. He hadn’t kept his new relationship a secret from Danneel, but he hadn’t revealed just how serious he was about you either.

Jensen rolled his eyes, the frustration evident in his posture. He took a deep breath, trying to keep his composure, but Danneel wasn’t about to back down. She stepped closer, her eyes blazing with anger.

“I fucking swear to you, Jensen, if anything about this reaches the media”, she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.

Jensen cut her off sharply. “Then what? Then fucking what, Danneel?”. His voice rose, the strain of the situation finally breaking through his calm facade. “Do you really think threatening me is going to help? I’m trying to be honest with you here, but you’re making it impossible”.

Danneel’s eyes widened in shock, then narrowed again in anger. “Impossible? You’re the one who’s been running off to who knows where with this new girl. How do you expect me to react?”.

Jensen sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t intend for things to get this complicated. I’m doing my best to manage everything, but I can’t keep being the villain in this situation”.

Danneel’s rage boiled over, her voice rising to a scream. “You can’t just do whatever the fuck you want, Jensen! I won’t fucking tolerate you running off for three months just for some little cheap bitch!”.

Jensen’s frustration reached its breaking point. He grabbed her coffee mug from the counter and threw it into the sink with all his strength, making it shatter into pieces. The sound echoed through the kitchen, silencing Danneel for a moment. He stepped towards her, his eyes blazing with anger.

“You know what the fuck I can do? File for fucking divorce! I’m done with you!”, Jensen’s voice was like a roar, filled with a mix of pain, anger, and finality.

Danneel’s eyes filled with rage. She lunged at him, her fists flying as she started to punch and scratch his face. Jensen tried to back away, but her fury was relentless. He raised his arms to protect himself, feeling her nails rake across his skin.

“Get off me!”, he shouted, trying to push her away without hurting her. But Danneel’s anger made her strong, and she kept coming at him, her blows landing with a desperate fury.

Jensen finally managed to grab her wrists, holding them tightly to stop the assault. “Stop it, Danneel! Just stop!”, he yelled.

He pushed her away , shaking his head in disbelief as he wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand. “You’re insane”, he hissed, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and pain. “Fucking crazy”.

He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his and turned towards the door, determined to leave the toxic atmosphere behind him.

As he walked away, Danneel’s voice rose again, filled with venom. “You think you can just walk out on me? I’m going to ruin you, Jensen! I’ll take everything away from you! You’ll never see the kids again, I swear!”.

Jensen paused for a moment at the door, his hand on the knob. He turned back to look at Danneel. “You’re not taking the kids from me”, he said quietly but firmly. “I won’t let you. This isn’t just about us anymore”.

Danneel’s face contorted with rage, but Jensen didn’t wait for her response. He opened the door and stepped out, closing it behind him with a sense of finality. The morning air hit him like a cold splash of water, waking him up to the reality of what had just happened.

Taking a deep breath, Jensen headed towards the taxi that was already waiting for him. The driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror, noticing the tension in his face and the fresh scratches. Jensen climbed into the back seat, setting his bag beside him, and closed the door with a sense of finality.

“Where to?”, the driver asked, starting the engine.

“JFK, please”, Jensen replied, his voice steady but weary. He leaned back in the seat, staring out the window as the taxi pulled away from the house.

The ride to the airport was mostly silent, the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of traffic the only noise. Jensen’s mind raced with thoughts of the confrontation with Danneel and the uncertain future that lay ahead. But amidst the turmoil, the thought of seeing you soon brought him a sense of calm and hope.

As the taxi approached the airport, Jensen’s phone buzzed with a message. He pulled it out, seeing your name on the screen. A small smile tugged at his lips despite everything.

You: Hey, I know you have a lot going on, but I just wanted to say I can’t wait to see you. Safe travels.

He quickly typed a response.

Jensen: Thanks, I needed that. Can’t wait to see you too.

The taxi pulled up to the curb, and Jensen handed the driver some cash. “Thanks”, he said, grabbing his bag and stepping out.

The anticipation had been building for days. You had packed your bags the night before, barely able to contain your excitement at the thought of finally spending more than just a couple of days with Jensen. You checked your reflection in the mirror one last time, making sure everything was in place before heading out to catch your flight.

Jensen had bought you a ticket from Austin to Seattle. The plan was simple: you’d arrive at the hotel separately to avoid raising any suspicions, and then you’d finally have some quality time together without the constraints of work and distance.

As you arrived at the airport, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The thought of being careful to avoid any unwanted attention added a layer of tension, but the prospect of seeing Jensen again made it all worthwhile.

You checked in and went through security smoothly, finding a quiet spot near your gate to wait for boarding. Your phone buzzed with a message from Jensen, a simple “See you soon” that made your heart race with anticipation.

The flight was uneventful, giving you time to relax and mentally prepare for the days ahead. As the plane began its descent into Seattle, you felt a flutter of excitement in your stomach.

After landing and collecting your luggage, you made your way to the exit where a car was waiting to take you to the hotel. The drive felt longer than it actually was, the anticipation growing with each passing mile.

When you arrived at the hotel, you checked in under the name Jensen had told you. The receptionist handed you the key card with a polite smile, unaware of the significance of this moment for you.

You made your way to the elevator, your heart pounding with excitement. As the doors opened to your floor, you walked down the hallway to your room, your steps quickening as you got closer. You slid the key card into the door, pushing it open to reveal the cozy, elegantly furnished room that would be your sanctuary for the next few days.

Not wanting to waste any time, you quickly freshened up and checked your appearance one last time before sending a message to Jensen, letting him know you’d arrived.

You: I’m here. Can’t wait to see you.

It didn’t take long for Jensen to respond.

Jensen: On my way. Be there in a few minutes.

You paced the room, trying to contain your excitement. Every passing minute felt like an eternity, your anticipation growing with each second. The faint sound of footsteps in the hallway made your heart skip a beat. You moved towards the door, your breath catching in your throat as you waited.

When the knock finally came, you didn’t hesitate. You opened the door, and there he was—Jensen, looking tired yet determined, his eyes lighting up the moment they met yours. But before you could even utter a greeting, Jensen pushed the door closed with his foot, letting his bag drop to the floor. His movements were swift and urgent as he cupped your face, pulling you close.

“Hey”, you managed to whisper, but Jensen didn’t waste any time. His lips crashed into yours with a fervor that took your breath away. The kiss was intense, a mix of passion and desperation, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were really there. The fight with Danneel had only heightened his need to be close to you, to feel your warmth and comfort.

You responded eagerly, your hands moving to his shoulders, gripping tightly as if afraid he might disappear. Jensen’s hands slid from your face to your waist, pulling you even closer, his fingers digging into your skin as if he couldn’t get enough. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours, exploring with a hunger that left you dizzy.

Jensen broke the kiss just long enough to rest his forehead against yours, both of you breathing heavily. “Fuck, I missed you”, he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

But again, before you could answer, he pressed his lips back on yours with an urgency that made your heart race. His hands moved with practiced ease, quickly finding the button of your jeans and the zipper, undoing them with a determined precision. His intentions were clear, the need to feel you, to be close to you, overwhelming him.

Your breath hitched, a mixture of anticipation and excitement flooding through you. You didn’t hesitate, your hands moving to push his jacket from his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. It was clear he didn’t want to talk.

Jensen’s hands slid your jeans down your hips, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You kicked them off, your hands returning to him, pulling his shirt over his head with a sense of urgency that matched his own. His skin was warm under your fingers, his muscles tensing as you explored the familiar contours of his body.

He guided you backward toward the bed, his lips never leaving yours. The kiss deepened, filled with a hunger that spoke of all the time spent apart, the longing and the need that had built up over the weeks.

Jensen quickly pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Not wearing a bra made him growl deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. Your fingers fumbled on his belt, eager to free him from the constraints of his clothing, but Jensen had other ideas. He pushed you back onto the bed, his movements rough but filled with a desperate need.

He undid his belt, the metal buckle clinking loudly in the quiet room, and quickly opened his jeans, pulling down the zipper with a swift motion. In one fluid movement, he stepped out of his jeans and boxers.

Jensen clambered above you, his weight pressing you flat against the soft, bouncy mattress. The intensity in his eyes spoke volumes, his need for you palpable in the air between you. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency.

His hand moved down, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down your legs in one swift motion. The cool air hit your skin, contrasting with the heat of his touch as he pressed himself against you, his hard length brushing against your thigh.

“Fuck, I missed this”, he murmured against your lips and positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locking onto yours with a fierce, almost desperate intensity. “I need you”.

Before you could respond, he pushed forward, entering you with a deep, powerful thrust. The suddenness of it, without any foreplay to prepare you, sent a jolt of slight pain through your body. You cried out, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to the intense sensation.

But Jensen was too lost in the moment to notice. The moment he bottomed out in your tightness, a deep groan escaped his lips, his head falling against your shoulder. His body shook slightly as he took in the overwhelming feeling of being inside you again. You were his sanctuary, the place where he could lose himself and find solace.

In the rush of his need, Jensen didn’t give you time to adjust before he started to move, instantly setting a deep, relentless pace. Each thrust was powerful, sending shockwaves of sensation through your body and leaving your breath hitching over and over again. The intensity of his movements was overwhelming, the depth of his thrusts causing your moans to turn into desperate sobs as you struggled to catch your breath.

Jensen’s lips found yours, capturing them in a fervent kiss that made you feel even more breathless. The lack of air combined with the force of his thrusts quickly made you dizzy, your head spinning as you tried to keep up with the intensity of the moment. Every inch of your body was alight with sensation, the pleasure bordering on pain as Jensen pushed you to your limits.

Your hands clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to anchor yourself. Jensen’s groans and murmurs of pleasure filled your ears, a constant reminder of how deeply he was lost in the moment. His fingers gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements and ensuring that every thrust hit just the right spot.

And he did. The tip of his dick brushed against your most sensitive spot over and over again, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body with each thrust. The intensity overwhelmed you, causing your nails to dig deeper into his shoulders and back, leaving trails of red in their wake. The relentless pace, combined with the deep connection between you, had you shaking underneath him within minutes.

Jensen groaned deeply, his voice rough with desire. “You feel so fucking good”, he murmured against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. His teeth grazed the soft flesh of your neck before he bit down gently, the sensation sending another wave of pleasure through you.

Your back arched, your body responding to the mix of pleasure and pain, pushing you closer to the edge. The sound of his groans and the feel of his body moving against yours heightened every sensation, making it almost impossible to hold on.

But just as you were about to reach your peak, Jensen abruptly pulled out, leaving you gasping in surprise and frustration. Before you could process what was happening, he turned you roughly onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you were on your knees.

Without wasting a moment, Jensen positioned himself behind you and thrust into you with such force that when you tried to brace yourself on all fours, his powerful thrusts sent you sprawling flat onto the mattress. Your face pressed into the pillows, muffling your cries of pleasure as he took you from behind with an intensity that left you breathless.

The new angle allowed him to hit deeper. The force of his movements pinned you to the bed, your hands gripping the sheets tightly as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation.

“Jensen”, you moaned, your voice muffled by the pillows but filled with a desperate need. The relentless rhythm of his thrusts pushed you closer and closer to the edge once more, your body trembling with anticipation.

Jensen’s hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he pounded into you.

“Such a tight little… fuck”, Jensen groaned deeply, his voice thick with desire. The words sent a shiver down your spine, the rawness of his need making you even more aroused. As he continued to thrust into you, his pace never faltering, he reached up and grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you up so that your back hit his chest.

The new position made you gasp. The intensity of the sensation was almost too much to bear, your body trembling with the overwhelming pleasure. Jensen’s teeth grazed your neck before he bit down gently, the mix of pain and pleasure sending another jolt of arousal through you.

His free hand found its way between your legs, his fingers expertly rubbing your clit with fast, hard strokes. The combination of his thrusts and the stimulation on your clit was too much, and you felt yourself hurtling towards the edge once again.

“Jensen”, you cried out, your voice a desperate plea. The intensity of the pleasure was building to a fever pitch, every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“That’s it”, he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you”.

His fingers moved even faster, his touch perfectly synchronized with the rhythm of his thrusts. The pleasure built to an almost unbearable level, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped. Your orgasm crashed over you with the force of a tidal wave, your body convulsing around him as you cried out his name.

The sensation of you coming around him was too much for Jensen to handle. With a raw, guttural groan, he pushed you back down onto the mattress roughly, your body sinking into the soft surface. His grip on your hips tightened again, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost bruising intensity as he pounded into you a few more times, chasing his own release.

You could feel Jensen’s muscles tensing, his body shaking with the effort as he neared the edge.

With one final, deep thrust, Jensen climaxed, his body shuddering as he spilled deep inside you. The sensation was electric, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the warmth of his release. He held you tightly, his breath hot and ragged against your neck as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. You lay beneath him, still taken aback by the raw intensity of what had just happened. The few times you had slept with each other before, Jensen had always been so loving and gentle. This new side of him—this overwhelming, almost desperate intensity—had left you shaking and dizzy beneath his weight.

Jensen’s body gradually relaxed, his breath slowing as he came down from the heights of his release. He remained inside you, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath warm and steady against your skin. The weight of his body pressed down on you, a grounding force in the aftermath of the storm you had both just weathered.

As he lay there, Jensen slowly began to emerge from the intense bubble he had been in. The raw emotions from his fight with Danneel, the anger, frustration, and desperation, all started to dissipate. He had left it all out on you, and now, in the quiet aftermath, a sense of calm began to settle over him.

Jensen gently pulled out of you, careful not to cause any discomfort. He rolled to the side, bringing you with him so that you were both lying on your sides, facing each other. His eyes searched yours, looking for any sign of discomfort or distress.

“You okay?”, he asked softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You were still shaking, your breath slowly coming back to a steady rhythm. You nodded, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “Yeah”, you mumbled, your voice soft and a bit shaky. “Heads up next time would be nice, though”. You chuckled breathlessly, trying to lighten the mood as you slowly sat up, still feeling the aftershocks of the intense experience. You pulled the blanket up around you, seeking comfort in its warmth.

Jensen’s eyes softened as he watched you, a mix of guilt and concern in his expression. He opened his mouth to explain, but hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “Sorry”, he said quietly. “I… I didn’t mean to be so intense. I just—”. He cut himself off, not wanting to delve into the details of his fight with Danneel.

You looked at him, seeing the turmoil in his eyes. Just then, your gaze shifted to his face, noticing the slightly bruised skin and the scratch marks over his nose and eye. Your breath hitched, a wave of concern washing over you. “Jensen, what happened?”, you asked softly, your hand gently brushing against his bruised cheek.

Jensen tried to dismiss your concern, his expression tightening with discomfort. “It’s nothing”, he said gruffly, looking away from your probing eyes. He was clearly ashamed, the vulnerability of being attacked by Danneel weighing heavily on him. As a man, he felt it made him appear weak, and that was something he struggled to accept.

“Jensen”, you pressed gently, not wanting to let it go. “This isn’t nothing. Please, talk to me”.

His jaw clenched, and he pulled away slightly, his demeanor shifting to one of irritation. “I said it’s nothing”, he snapped, his voice harsher than he intended. The first time he had ever spoken to you like this, it stung.

You recoiled slightly, hurt by his tone. “I just want to help”, you said softly, trying to hide the pain in your voice.

Jensen took a deep breath, trying to rein in his emotions. He knew snapping at you was unfair, but the weight of everything that had happened was pressing down on him. He clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. He wanted to explain, to make you understand, but the words were stuck in his throat, choked by pride and anger.

Seeing the hurt in your eyes was like a knife to his heart, but he couldn’t find a way to soften his tone or explain himself without feeling exposed and vulnerable. So, he opted for silence, hoping it would prevent him from saying something he’d regret.

“Alright, suit yourself”, you mumbled quietly, clearly hurt. You got up from the bed, wrapping the blanket tighter around you as you made your way to the bathroom.

As you turned on the shower, the sound of the water filled the room, creating a barrier between you and the tense atmosphere in the bedroom. You stepped under the warm spray, letting it wash over you, trying to cleanse not just your body but your mind as well.

The water cascaded down, and you closed your eyes, feeling the tension slowly leave your muscles. But your mind was still a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

In the bedroom, Jensen sat on the edge of the bed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He hated himself for the way he had spoken to you. He knew you only wanted to help, but he felt trapped by his own pride and the fear of appearing weak. The scratches on his face were a physical reminder of the chaos in his life, and he didn’t know how to reconcile that with the love he felt for you.

He heard the shower running and felt a pang of regret.

Jensen sighed deeply, his heart heavy with regret and uncertainty. He stood up slowly, his movements quiet and deliberate as he walked towards the bathroom. The sound of the running water grew louder as he approached.

Without making a sound, he slipped into the bathroom and then into the shower behind you. The steam enveloped him, and the warm water hit his skin, but his focus was solely on you. He moved with careful intent, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

You gasped softly, the unexpected embrace startling you for a moment. But the warmth of his body and the familiarity of his touch quickly calmed you. His lips found your shoulder, pressing soft, apologetic kisses against your skin. He held you close, the steady beat of his heart against your back a silent testament to his remorse.

Jensen couldn’t find the words to express his apology, but he hoped you would understand through the gentleness of his touch. His lips moved slowly, trailing a line of tender kisses from your shoulder up to the curve of your neck.

You closed your eyes, leaning back into his embrace, letting the warmth of the water and the comfort of his presence wash over you. The tension in your body began to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm and acceptance. You placed your hands over his, squeezing them gently, letting him know that you understood.

Jensen’s hands moved slightly, one resting on your stomach while the other traced light patterns across your skin. The touch was intimate, filled with a tenderness that spoke volumes. He held you close, his breath warm against your neck as he continued to press gentle kisses to your skin.

“I really missed you”, he murmured quietly, his voice filled with a mix of longing and regret. His head spun with the fear that his earlier temper might have caused irreparable damage to your relationship. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you because of his inability to control his emotions.

You turned in his arms, facing him as the water cascaded down around you both. Your eyes met his, and you could see the genuine concern and vulnerability there. “I missed you too”, you replied softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “But you need to talk to me, Jensen. You can’t shut me out like that”.

You always had been a strong person, someone who stood their ground. So, even though Jensen’s little outburst wasn’t quite what you liked, you weren’t mad at him, but being disrespected like this wasn’t something you would tolerate. You looked into his eyes, your gaze firm but filled with love.

“Jensen”, you said softly but firmly, “I understand that you’re going through a lot, but you need to know that talking to me like that is not okay. I love you, but I need respect and honesty from you”.

Jensen clenched his jaw, his mind racing as he tried to find the right words. The look in your eyes told him how serious you were, and he felt a pang of guilt. He took a deep breath, his fingers tightening slightly on your waist as he searched for the right way to express his feelings.

Jensen had never encountered a woman who spoke to him like you did right now. His previous relationships had often been characterized by either extreme submissiveness or volatile outbursts when angered, sometimes even resulting in physical slaps. But you were different. Hearing you speak so firmly, yet still filled with love, took him by surprise. It left him grasping for words and grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. He wasn’t sure how to react or what to say, and he didn’t even know if he liked it or not.

The water continued to cascade around you, creating a soothing backdrop to the tension in the air. Jensen’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his mind racing as he tried to process everything. He looked into your eyes, seeing the unwavering strength and love reflected there, and it both intimidated and drew him in.

“I… I’m sorry”, he finally managed to say, his voice strained with emotion.

You could see in his gaze that he clearly didn’t know how to handle this situation right now. You were smarter, more mature, and more grounded than any women he had ever been with before. Your firm but loving words had struck a chord deep within him, challenging his preconceived notions of what a relationship should be.

“Jay”, you began softly, placing a gentle hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I don’t want you to apologize just to appease me. I need you to understand why I feel the way I do. Mutual respect is key in any relationship”.

He looked at you, his expression a mixture of confusion, admiration, and a touch of fear. His eyes searched yours, as if seeking reassurance and guidance in this unfamiliar territory.

“You see”, you continued, keeping your voice calm and steady, “in the past, I’ve learned that genuine connection is built on understanding and trust. I want us to be able to talk openly about our feelings, our thoughts, and our needs. It’s not about who’s right or wrong, but about finding a way to move forward together”.

Jensen swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’ve never… I mean, I’ve never had to…”, he stammered, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

You waited for him, your patience unwavering, but Jensen’s frustration grew palpable. He groaned softly, his face contorting in a mixture of irritation and helplessness. “I don’t know what to fucking say”, he finally admitted, his voice edged with frustration. “I’ve never had to deal with this kind of conversation before”.

His hand slipped down your sides, a gesture that felt more like an attempt to distance himself from the emotional intensity than a loving touch. You could sense his desire to escape the situation, to find some reprieve from the vulnerability he wasn’t used to.

“I’m not going to force you to tell me what happened to your face”, you mumbled softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I would appreciate it if you could share it with me”.

His eyes met yours, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. Before he could respond, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips, hoping to convey your understanding and patience through that simple act.

Then, without another word, you stepped out of the shower, leaving him standing there alone. The cool air hit your skin as you reached for a towel, wrapping it around yourself. You glanced back at Jensen, who remained motionless under the cascading water, his expression a mixture of confusion and contemplation.

You walked out of the bathroom and into the hotel room, the cool air conditioning contrasting sharply with the warmth of the shower. You moved to your bag, searching for clothes to put on. As you rummaged through your things, you recalled Jensen’s earlier text about Jared wanting to grab something to eat. He had suggested that if anyone spotted the three of you together, you could simply say you were a friend of Jared’s to avoid raising any suspicions.

A few minutes later, you heard the water stop running in the bathroom. Jensen stepped out, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp. He hesitated in the doorway, looking uncertain and a bit lost.

“Are you mad at me now?”, he asked, his voice tentative and filled with worry.

You turned to him, softening your expression as you shook your head. “No, Jensen, I’m not mad at you. I just want us to be able to talk about these things".

He looked relieved but still a bit unsure. “Look I… I don’t want to mess this up”, he admitted.

“You won’t”, you reassured him, walking over.

You stood on your tiptoes, still needing to pull him down slightly to reach his lips, and kissed him softly. His body seemed to relax slightly under your touch, and you could feel his tension start to melt away.

“I’m not throwing the ‘I love you’ around easily either”, you mumbled into the kiss, smiling softly against his lips. “So when I told you I love you, I meant that. Messing it up will take more than that”.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

-

Part 21

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Taglist: @cheynovak @chriszgirl92 @jenniferr0323 @angelbabyyy99 @cevansbaby-dove @muhahaha303 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @n-o-p-e-never @mayafatimakhan @ladysparkles78 @viviandarkbloom06 @jassackles @evasmlp @acklesaddict67 @mostlymarvelgirl @emma1998sblog @mishaesque @headinthemoon87 @hobby27 @winchesterwild78 @impala67rollingthroughtown @manicjk @kr804573 @zaratahir @djs8891 @winchesterwild78 @jamerlynn @whimsyfinny @libby99hb @deansimpalababy @deans-queen @kawaii-arfid-memes @faephoria @stoneyggirl2 @fitxgrld @luvr4miya @yikeschoices @lyssalvus @soab1967 @luvr4miya @didi0666 @impala67rollingthroughtown @cheekygirl2309

[sunny-mercya]

Rainy days and Bubble baths

Platonic!Bonten x Male Baby Reader

Fandom -> Tokyo Revengers

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Honourable mention tag -> @reallyromealone as he's a great writer and one of my inspirational muses

Mochi bounces you in his arms, slowly and steadily as he walks, for the probably twentieth time, through the livingroom, hoping to either calm you down or make you sleepy—whatever comes first, which Mochi do hope will come any second now.

Your crying only seem to increase even more, much louder than it had been before when you started with the first sniffles—Mochi also believes, he's pretty sure about this, had seen a frown on your—adorable but reddish—chubby face when you glanced at your papa and Mochi knows now, how Sanzu and the Haitani's must feel whenever they bounce or carry you around for a calming down—and while you weren't a fussy baby, far from it, there a some specific things which makes you wail into a banshee like hoarseness and sore throat.

One of these things, which makes you so fussy upset, was rain and to a certain extent of degree water in general—but rain, the mere sound of its droplets, was enough to make you cry till you either vomit from overworking yourself or getting to the point of exhaustion.

There's a reason why you hated rain so much, it's the fact—although Kakucho was the one to point it out, or more like seeing a connection between your constant crying whenever it rains—that Takeomi had been the one, who found you during a nasty storm near the dumpster behind one of their clubs.

Although that had been three years ago—adopting you was a impulsive decision from Mikey and when the others had to, in secret secrecy, guess as of why their boss would do such, it was probably because of the reason that Mikey had lost all his siblings and wants to fill a gap in his heart—you still reacted catastrophically badly, doctor and therapist saying it's a trauma response, during every single moment of rain and thunderstorms.

Ran, when walking into the livingroom after coming back from some grocery shopping—thanks to Kokonoi, who forced him and Rindou to come along—cooed loudly upon seeing your adorable face.

»Aww, did scary old papa Mochi upset you, little duckling?« he asks, bending down—one hand in his pockets—to be face to face with you, tapping his finger onto your cute little button nose.

Despite your crying, which seemed to only subside a tiny bit—minds a bit occupied with the purple in your uncle Rans hair, a colour which always pulls your eyes in—you scrunched up your face, frowning at Ran and Ran mirrors your frown, sighing.

And Rindou, leaning against the doorframe, watching the whole interaction between his brother and nephew—Rindou and Ran both coming to the conclusion, after your adoption, that being Uncles sounded much cooler than being called dad or papa—knew very well that Ran takes it always more to heart, than Rindou himself does, when you wouldn't be that giggly with either of them like you are with Kakucho or Takeomi for example.

»Oh, shut up Haitani.« Mochi barks out, annoyance swiping across his face, not in the mood for any kind of Ran's antics—not when you're still being fussy and Mochi himself feeling the exhaust, he adores you, but he's nearing his age of 35 and carrying you around through the early mornings of 3AM to the here and now of five in the afternoon, because all the others seemed to have magically vanish—more like bailing out of the shittiest sides from their responsibilities—and leaving him to do the works, does pull at him a bit.

»Fine, fine. I'll leave our fussy duckling to your care. C'mon Rinny! Let's order some food or tease Kokonoi into cooking.« Ran waves a goodbye towards you, strolling his way towards the kitchen.

»Asshole.« Mochi was sure he said the curse words so lightly under his breaths, that you wouldn't be able to hear it, but when you let out a hiccup of a gulp, Mochi was quick to add a; »Don't repeat it mini mochi,«

~~~•~~~

Takeomi had discovered, in the early stages of adjusting to your discomfort towards water, that warm bubble baths was something you really enjoyed—so much that getting you out of the tub afterwards was making you just as fussy as the problem with water—which only consisted of the sounds of rain and touching water—itself.

While bubble baths are your only water enjoyment, Takeomi also had discovered that taking such bath, during your fussy phase, calms you so significantly down—that nothing makes you cry, except for thunder and lightning—because those are really scary, which even Kakucho has admitted (to you)—afterwards, not even the continuing of rain, as long as you're safely tucked in into the arms of and Bonten Members.

Neither the Haitani brothers nor Sanzu would ever admit it, but bubble baths are time was their personal favourite time of the day—because it's a moment of time where they could hold you, without you making a frowning face and it's not like they assume that you don't love their company or their hold on you—whenever it was their turn to carry you around—because you do, otherwise you wouldn't giggle at them or letting out your mouthful of gibberish with their butchered up names, it's just the others were a bit more in your favouritism.

»You want the frog or the whale, [Nickname]?« Takeomi asks you, holding up the two toys in your area of sight.

Squealing happily, you raised your tiny hands up, »Froggy! Ashi! Froggy!«

»Yes, yes, little prince. Here mr.froggy comes, flush!« Takeomi drops the toy into the water, making you squeal in delight once more—a stark contrast to your crying half a hour (and all the hours of the day before) ago.

Takeomi bites a bit too hard onto his lollipop, a replacement for his cigarettes whenever he's inside the house, making it crack into pieces—Takeomi honestly wishes the person, who had dared to leave you all alone by yourself during such a nasty weather, to never be found by him or any other member of Bonten.

Just look at you, a smile graced Takeomis lips—upcoming seething anger gone instantly washed away by just seeing your happy face—how you played with your toys, babbling some story to Takeomi, all the while you yap in between your needy demand—Mikey has spoiled your appetite rotten with his own eating habits—favourite snack.

~~~•~~~

»Actually,« Kokonoi chimes in, having come into the livingroom when hearing the louder getting voices—their childish arguments hearable enough for every imaginary neighbours—of his colleagues, wiping his hands off a towel and crossing his arms—leaning against the doorframe, »it's Mikey's turn.«

It's always a bit of a mini battle against one another of who would snatch you up to have their turn of cuddling with you, especially after bubble bath time—because after such, you were the most attention seeking, in the most positive way, baby to have around—and it once, their constant fighting, had gotten so far that Kakucho had established the rules of turns.

Rindou had half a mind to wave Kokonoi off, but his colleague is right, it was Mikey turn and not only that, but they also hadn't seen their boss in almost a week.

Kakucho takes you from Takeomi's arms, »I'll go and bring our little munchkin to Mikey.«

They all knew that Mikey has depression and this week was one of the weeks, where Mikey had hit his lowest point again—locking himself up into his room to sleep through all the days or just staring hours at the wall or ceiling.

But Mikey does have a soft spot for you, had gotten all pouty and mad once—it was during one of his weeks—when he couldn't have his cuddle turn with you.

»Mikey, the little prince wants some cuddles from you.« Kakucho knocks a few times on the bedroom door, waiting a few minutes till he hears the unlocking mechanism.

Mikey takes you from Kakucho arms, into his own, holding you close as you greet him happily—although slowly giving into your upcoming drowsiness in—by patting his face with your grubby hands.

And Kakucho watches how Mikey shuffles back inside, not caring to lock the door again, barely hearing the hoarse whisper from his boss towards you,

»My little sunshine,«

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

I was wondering if you could do a really sweet "reunion" between Eddie and his gf in the cafeteria. Like, maybe she had to go to the dentist in the morning so they haven't seen each other all day, and Eddie is all grumpy and snappy with the Hellfire guys and Dustin is like "what's the matter with him? Wake up in the wrong side?" and Jeff replies "woke up with no Y/N is more like it" and then she comes into the cafeteria and they behave like they haven't seen each other for months 😊

Request by @somethingvicked

Warnings: Grumpy Eddie, Fluff.

❤️

Eddie was in one hell of a bad mood. You had to leave early this morning for the dentist, which meant he woke up without you.

Not only had he woken up without you this morning, there was no sleepy morning kisses and cuddles.

You weren't cuddled up on his chest when he woke up, the two of you exchanging sleepy, kisses and whispers of love. Your morning ritual.

He hated going without his morning kisses from you. It was the best start to the day, his highlight of the day.

Everyone around Hawkins thought he was mean and scary as shit but you knew the soft side to him, with you he was as soft as a marshmallow.

Wayne takes one look at his pissed off face and hides his smile behind his coffee mug as Eddie heads into the kitchen for breakfast.

"In a mood this morning son?" Wayne asks amused.

Eddie grumbles and pours some coffee into his Garfield mug.

"What gave it away? " he replies sarcastically and Wayne chuckles.

"Saw your girl leave early this morning for her appointment, I figure that's why you're like a storm cloud just now?" Eddie nods and finishes his coffee wincing at the taste.

This is why he prefers a YooHoo but this morning was already shit so extra strong, black coffee it was.

His mood didn't improve in school, it got worse, Carver said some dumb shit to him, Eddie usually ignored the asshole but today he wound him up, just to cheer himself up.

As usual the douchebag went running to the safety of his friends. He knew Jason was secretly terrified of him, he backed down fast.

Being a freak had has its advantages.

By noon, he was grumpy as fuck, the constant chatter between the boys was getting on his last nerve.

"Jesus h christ. Would you shut the fuck up" he huffs at them as they chat.

Gareth snorts. "What's up with you man?"

"Nothing" he snaps and continues to eat his pretzels, he's impatient to see you. Being around you helps the chaos of his mind, calms down his restless energy.

He loves being with you-loves you so much.

Dustin turns to him, eyes wide and he chuckles nervously.

"What is up with you dude? Wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning or something?" Jeff snorts at this and Eddie glares at him.

"Woke up with no yn more like" Jeff supplies and Eddie huffs, a pout on his face and his annoyance growing. It's true but its not helping his mood.

"Dude, you're so whipped" Mike makes a face and Eddie is barely listening as you come into the cafeteria, his heart skips a beat and he grins.

"Princess" he gets up and rushes to you, he's like an overexcited puppy as he is all over you. Peppering kisses to your hair and his pout is replaced with a huge beaming grin.

"I missed you so so much sweetheart. I don't like waking up without you beside me" he murmurs and you cuddle into him.

"I missed you too Ed's. Ugh, I hate the dentist" you say this with a pout on your face, the pout that pretty much has Eddie wrapped around your little finger.

If you give him that sad eyed look too, he's a goner.

"At least it's over with now sweetheart, Are you sore?" he asks worried as you wince, touching your mouth.

"A little, at least my very sexy boyfriend can help me feel better" he hears Gareth and Mike teasing him about this, turns and gives them a fierce glare, that stops them in their tracks.

"Anything for you princess" he kisses your forehead and leads you to the Hellfire table, he's much much happier now his girl is by his side.

He'll happily dote on you all night when you go home.

💞💞

[seiwas]

hello selly my darling!! im sorry its been so long! 🤍🤍 a little snack 🍓🍓

for the ask game, choso + sleeeepy please :)

emu hello 🥺 no need to apologise!! thank you for the little snack, and for sending in a prompt! 💗

contains: best friend's older brother choso, one-sided pining? maybe? it's a crush

choso + sleepy

weekends with yuuji are pretty standard.

he either goes for a morning hike or run, and you join him sometimes, depending on your mood. after that, you grab breakfast at the small cafe down his street, grabbing something for his (hot) older brother, choso, too, while you're at it. then, the rest of the day varies depending on what's needed for the following week.

it's a routine you've built up throughout uni and has been a major constant in your life thus far. your week never feels complete unless you end it with your best friend and coffee.

this weekend, you skip hiking with yuuji and opt to meet him straight back at his apartment when he's finished, which is also something you've done plenty of times before, except―

when you open the door with the spare key you own, you find choso standing right in the middle of their living room, holding a pillow with nothing but his sweatpants on. he only stares at you, eye half-lidded as his hair fans around his face like a disheveled lion's mane.

you freeze, blinking once then twice before squeaking out a small, "sorry!" and stepping out again.

in all your weekends spent with yuuji, this has never happened before.

choso usually sleeps in, only waking up by the time you and yuuji prepare lunch. he's never usually up and about at 8:52 a.m.

the lock clicks as he moves to open the door to welcome you back in. and when he does, he still looks the same―unbothered and completely unaware that he's standing half-naked in front of you.

it takes extra effort for you to keep your gaze up as he greets you, "yuuji is still out."

"y-yeah," you stutter, "i told him i'd meet him here." you catch a glimpse of the room behind him and notice the messy heap of pillows and blankets on the couch then realize, "unless i can't! then—"

he shakes his head, hair swinging around as he rubs at his eyes, still a little sleepy, "feel free." his arm stretches out to motion to the rest of the space, as if to emphasize, "you practically live here."

you chuckle nervously as you step back inside.

"sorry, it's messy," he gestures at the mess of pillows on the couch, "fell asleep watching a movie last night."

this is not the first time you've ever interacted with choso; you're actually normally comfortable around him, albeit a little stuttery from the kind-of mini crush you've developed on him since sophomore year. but he's also almost never like this―lean muscles and bedhead on full display as he talks to you, voice hoarse with the cutest bit of sleepiness still on his face.

you swear, this is a recipe for your own demise.

he passes you a glass of water as he yawns from across the kitchen island, hand going straight to scratch his stomach.

"thanks," you give him a small smile, drinking it immediately in an attempt to conceal how flustered you feel. "will you be joining us for breakfast?"

the sound of his footsteps dragging across the floor accompanies the slight hum he makes while thinking. his fingers run through his hair, ruffling them as he answers, "i can," then another pause before he continues, looking at you straight in the eyes as he asks, "do you want me to?"

[captonite]

Eye-Level Kisses

Chubs was tiny.

Tiny-tiny.

A round-cheeked, fluffy-haired, giggly little mess who toddled everywhere like gravity hadn’t fully agreed to commit to her yet.

And she always had to look up. Always craning her neck, wide brown eyes blinking up at her giants—Sam with his puppy-dog earnestness, Dean with his constant half-smirking concern.

“Up, up, up,” she’d say with her arms in the air when she was too tired to walk. “Down, down, down,” she’d whisper when she wanted a secret shared low to the ground.

But it was the looking up that always got the boys.

Every time she wanted to talk, she had to tilt her whole head back like a sunflower to the sun. And every single time, Sam and Dean would see that look—the sparkly-eyed trust, the complete openness, like they hung the stars in her little sky.

And eventually?

They started crouching.

It started with Sam.

He bent down to tie her shoe one day and realized she was telling a full story—rambling, babbling about a dream she had where a unicorn named Steve fought ghosts with marshmallow swords.

And something about being eye-level with her—hearing it from down here—made it feel like he was part of her world.

From then on, he started crouching whenever she started talking. Bending his knees even if it meant the loudest creak known to man. And Dean? He followed suit, grumbling, "My knees ain't built for this," but still doing it every time she waddled over with a “Deeee?”

The best part?

Every single time one of them crouched—

—she’d kiss their nose.

Or bop it. Depending on her mood.

Soft little mwah on the bridge of Dean’s freckled nose. Gentle fingertip boop on the end of Sam’s.

“Bambi,” Dean groaned once, flinching as she kissed him for the fourth time that morning, “you’re gonna bruise my nose with love.”

She giggled, full-body and squeaky.

“I’ll kiss it better!”

Sam leaned close. “Where’s my boop?”

“Boop!” She bopped his nose and clapped.

---

After that, it became tradition.

She’d walk into the room, and both brothers would immediately drop into a crouch.

No matter where. No matter when.

Sam, mid-suit up for a hunt, crouched with a tie dangling around his neck: “Good morning, Sunshine.”

Boop.

Dean, halfway through checking weapons, down on one knee like she was royalty: “Whatcha got there, Bambi?”

Smack of a kiss right on the nose.

Even Bobby caught them once and grumbled, “You two gonna squat for her wedding someday too?”

Dean just shrugged. “If it gets me a kiss? Hell yeah.”

---

One night, she was sleepy and crabby and didn’t wanna talk.

Just walked over, little arms wrapped around her stuffie, bottom lip puffed out, and plopped in front of Sam.

He crouched immediately. “What’s wrong, sweet pea?”

She didn’t answer.

Dean crouched too. “C’mon. Not even a nose kiss?”

Silence.

Then, she leaned in, and gently touched both of their foreheads with hers. No kiss. No boop. Just a quiet little touch and a sigh.

Sam felt his heart implode.

Dean whispered, “Okay, that’s even better.”

And after that?

Well, they crouched even when she wasn’t mad or sad or excited. Just because they could.

Because meeting her at eye-level meant showing her she mattered.

And the bops and kisses?

That was just a bonus.

---

Years passed.

The world got heavier. Hunts got bloodier. Scars stacked up. And Chubs—sweet, golden-hearted Chubs—grew up.

She wasn’t the toddling little bug they used to scoop into their arms anymore. She could load a shotgun blindfolded, stitch up her own shoulder with gritted teeth, and sass the crap out of demons twice her size.

But.

Some things?

Never changed.

It happened on a rough night.

Three vamps. One nearly got the jump on Sam.

Dean was pacing, furious. Not at her. Not at Sam. Just—at the world, at himself, at how close they came.

“Should’ve been faster,” Sam muttered, tossing bloody gauze in the trash.

“Don’t,” Dean snapped. “Don’t start that guilt trip crap.”

Sam flinched.

Chubs stood in the middle of the room, silent. Watching. Processing.

Then she walked straight up to Dean—who was still bristling, eyes hot with leftover rage—and gently pulled his flannel.

Dean blinked down at her. “What’s up, Bambi?”

Without a word, she rose on her toes, leaned in…

…and kissed his nose.

Right on the bridge. Soft. Familiar.

Dean froze.

Not because he didn’t remember.

But because he did.

And God, it hit him like a truck.

“You just kissed my nose,” he said slowly, like it hadn’t happened in over a decade.

Chubs grinned. “You were frowning.”

Dean’s voice got weirdly rough. “Not fair.”

Sam was watching now, confused and fond and just a little heartbroken. “She used to do that when we crouched to talk to her,” he murmured, like the memory was glass in his throat.

Chubs turned, gave him a look.

He didn’t even have time to react before she walked over and—just like when she was eight—boop.

Right on the tip of his nose.

Sam laughed. Loud, incredulous. Then immediately pulled her into a hug like he might actually cry.

“You still do that,” he whispered into her hair.

“You still need it,” she replied, muffled against his chest.

---

Later that night, they were curled up in the bunker’s library—feet on the table, empty pie plates nearby.

Dean nudged her knee. “Hey.”

She looked up.

He leaned forward, tapped his own nose. “Missed a spot.”

She gave him a lazy, amused look.

He smirked. “What, I don’t get nose-kisses anymore unless I’m mid-emotional breakdown?”

She rolled her eyes fondly, leaned in…

mwah.

Then kissed Sam’s too for good measure, who grinned like a kid.

Cas appeared not long after.

“I sense you are feeling lighter,” he said.

Dean pointed at Chubs. “Bambi here’s been healing us with boops and unsolicited affection again.”

Cas tilted his head. “That tracks.”

Chubs stretched like a cat. “You want one too?”

Cas blinked. “Yes.”

Boop.

“...Thank you.”

--

She might’ve grown up. The world might’ve changed.

But the boys?

They still crouched when she talked.

And Chubs?

Still kissed their noses.

Still reminded them they were loved.

Still their Bambi.

Always.

[amymbona]

i need angst so !! thinking about patrick with an introverted, shy, kinda closed off reader who sometimes needs to just be by herself and isolates and ghosts the people around her because she gets overwhelmed. and of course patrick gets mad because he doesn't get it and he confronts her about it and they get in a huge argument idk. i feel like she's a lot like a female version of art and she gest sneaky and mean when she's angry so i just imagine patrick seeing this part of her for the first time and they end up saying the worst things to each other

thank you <33

Patrick angst Zweig <3

I think that, as much as Patrick tries to be a good guy, he's just really oblivious and fails to notice important stuff. It doesn't mean that he doesn't care - no no no - but he's simply kinda stupid. And unfortunately, he's having issues with figuring out certain social cues.

So when your responses are dry, only sending simple yes and no to his messages, Patrick gets really pissed. What exactly is the issue - do you suddenly hate him? Has he done something so terrible that offended you and you weren't even able to talk to him about it? Or is it the harsh truth that you don't want to be friends with him anymore? While you're (somewhat) peacefully asleep, hoping to get past your anxiety in that way, Patrick spends hours pacing around his room, literal steam shooting from his ears.

And then he storms into your dorm in the middle of the night - because Patrick Zweig doesn't understand the concept of time and because Patrick Zweig doesn't care if somebody wants to get rest and mainly because Patrick Zweig doesn't like waiting - so you're forced to listen to him rant, half asleep, in your pyjamas.

"I don't understand it, I just - did I do something? - or what is it? Why won't you just tell me?"

"Patrick, just go to your place. We'll talk in the morning," you beg him with a sleepy voice, eyes closing.

He stomps towards your bed, hands on his hips, staring down at your tired frame, "Why? Why won't you just talk to me? You've been ignorin' me since the start of the week. What the hell's your issue?"

"Just go," you plead once again, genuinely not in the mood for any of it.

"Don't tell me to go - goddamn - don't sleep now! Just talk to me, for fuck's sake," Patrick is still pushing his luck, unable to respect your wishes. He is determined to get this answer. And unfortunately, that pushes you over the edge.

"Why do you have to be so pushy all the time? Oh my god, just leave me alone - why don't you get it? I'm not texting you cause I wanna be alone!"

He's dumbfounded, totally.

"What the hell, Y/N?"

But you're having none of it, sadly, too upset about this whole treatment, about Patrick constantly chasing you, glued to your back, not allowing you a single moment for yourself. You love him, but you need to be alone as well, "You're after me all the time - do you have an idea how frusttating that is? I can't be with you all the time, Pat. I'm not a robot, I need some time for myself too!"

And you know Patrick is quite an emotional guy, dependent too. He requires constant reassurance and presence of his loved ones - so much, that he's blind to all the hints of discomfort, unable to understand the world doesn't revolve around him.

"Oh," he nods, stepping away from your bed slowly, "Okay."

Like a harsh shake, the realisation that you have unintentionally hurt his feelings wakes you up. But you couldn't hold it back, you just couldn't, when you were so overwhelmed, "Wait, Patrick-"

"No no no," he cuts you off, "Good night."

And then you're left alone. But suddenly, you don't want to be alone. You want Patrick to come back, to be here, lay next to you and talk your ear off. To rant and rant and rant until you're asleep, unaware of anything he's saying, but snuggled closely to his side. Hurriedly, you pick up your phone and text him.

Y/N: pat [0:28 am]

Y/N: sorry [0:28 am]

Y/N: i'm sorry [0:28 am]

Y/N: come baxk [0:28 am]

Y/N: please [0:29 am]

Y/N: sorry [0:29 am]

Y/N: :( [0:29 am]

[seen by Patrick Zweig]

[valar-did-me-wrong]

Living through one of those yearly "is my body finally giving up on me or is this just bad timing" months rn.. wisdom tooth growing out & pushing all other teeth around, causing constant pain.. sudden bouts of contact dermatitis from something unknown.. allergy meds making me sleepy & nauseous all the time.. late period leading to mood swings.. sudden palpitations because exams are coming up.. morning sickness because ofcourse that's how my body reacts to stress.....

The only good thing is I'm not falling back into depression, so I can talk to myself when feeling anxious, still be sensible about most things & remind myself to be patient with my body.. It'll get better, I know, it always does.. i just needed to rant & throw a little tantrum!! ;_; And now we give time some time!

[muffins-saga-archives]

Elemental Ponies - Air

Artist: Reitanna seishin

Date of Upload original: Jun 3, 2014

Original Desc:

"elemental ponies" are a new series I'm drawing. I got the idea when I was looking up fakemon, and it just came to me. whoo! just one more left!

air:

air ponies can only be pegasi. their manes and tails are light and slightly transparent, and seem to flow as if wind were blowing. air ponies can control the air around them to create wind or gusts strong enough to move boulders out of the way. when their wings are outstretched, they take on the properties of their mane and tail, becoming wispy and mysterious, as well as slightly transparent. air ponies can even produce oxygen in a situation where it's lacking. another ability is that they can produce dust devils, tornados, and hurricanes. they work best with water ponies, but seem to not get along with fire ponies. her name is wind free, and she likes to play with little toy windmills. she even learned how to make her own, and the first time she did, that's when her cutie mark appeared. wind free is a pretty carefree pony, just as the wind is. she's very content, and it's hard to truly upset her. if she encounters somepony that's rude, she frowns and says "that's not very nice." but she doesn't fight. she's very good when it comes to controlling the weather, but does so carefully, believing that quality is better than quantity, so if she works too fast, it won't be as well done as she would like. she's a bit OCD, especially when it comes to her windmills. they have to be PERFECT before they're ready to experience the world.

the last one I have to do is light! she'll be quite easy because of less detail and less opacity changes. but man, I'm tired, and I still got eeveelutions and some characters to draw. I dunno, I've been in a drawing mood, but I'm tired because I've had very bad neck pains. yesterday was, and this is NO exaggeration, the WORST neck ache I have ever had in my life. it was just terrible. anyway, I gotta go take my sleepy meds to take me away for another night. my salvation from reality because I can't seem to get my mind to willingly go into encephalon. it's because my mind is too freaky-outty to calm down, and my constant shaking and twitching doesn't help. grr.

(I need to get into the habit of proofreading my descriptions...)

[agentstarkid]

AN ETERNAL LOVE BULLSHIT ✦ DR3

Based on this ask

✦ PAIRING: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader

✦ CHECKERED FLAG: 3.7K words (I tried to keep it short, oops)

✦ TRACK LIMITS: angst, self-doubt, crying, feelings of not being enough, heartbreak.

✦ MAY'S RADIO: I've had this on my drafts, ruminating on it for days, soooo I hope you guys like it. Vitto, Iza and Chloe are the real MVPs of this chapter! Queens uplifting another Queen 💅🏽💖 This was fun to write! Thank you so much nonnie for this idea! ilysm <3 p.s. can y'all spot the song references? 👀

This is set during Saudade. | Everything between "—" and italized are flashbacks.

< previous chapter | series masterlist | general masterlist | next chapter >

The end of April in California had days of clear skies, endless blue, and a gentle breeze carrying the sweet scent of blooming flowers. The sun shone warmly, casting a golden glow over everything it touched, yet the cheerful weather felt almost mocking to her current state.

Her guitar lay across her lap, repurposed as a makeshift table for the notebook where she hastily scribbled words, each one an attempt to capture the storm of emotions swirling within her. The grass beneath her was cool and grounding, but it did little to tether her to the present. Every line she wrote was a desperate attempt to process the pain, to make sense of the abrupt void he had left behind. 

Life moved on around her with an indifferent rhythm, but her mind was still stuck replaying the scenes in a Bahraini hotel room on a fateful Friday morning in March. She was stuck, a relic in a world that had already moved on, trapped in the shadow of what once was. The ache in her heart was a constant companion, a reminder that she was still right where he left her, struggling to find a way back to herself.

Her pen moved frantically across the pages, as if the act of writing could somehow release the torment inside her. But each word, each lyric, only seemed to root her more firmly in the past. The guitar beneath her fingers, once a source of joy and creativity, now felt like a conduit for her sorrow. She was lost in her own words, hoping that somewhere in the tangled mess of emotions, she might find a way to heal.

But amidst the ache, she found solace in the unwavering support of her friends. 

Since landing in Los Angeles, her friends had been her rock. When days of isolation had left her feeling like a shell of herself, Vitto and Andrew had intervened, offering her refuge in their home outside the city. Their house, tucked away from the relentless glare of cameras and the whirlwind of drama, had become a sanctuary. The quiet of their surroundings was a balm for her frayed nerves.

Baby Iza, their little bundle of joy, at almost 1 year old, was a constant source of comfort. The child's tiny hands and infectious giggles seemed to have an almost magical ability to lift her spirits. It was as if Izabele could sense her sadness and made it her mission to shower her with love and affection. 

With the sun casting gentle rays through the window, the child would toddle into the room with her tiny feet pattering softly on the floor. Her face, a picture of innocent determination, was often lit up by a bright smile. She would clutch a small toy in her chubby hands—a plush animal or a colorful block—and make a beeline for her godmother, as if to say, “Here, play with me. Everything will be okay.”

Sitting down beside her, Iza would arrange her toys with meticulous care, her eyes occasionally glancing up to gauge her mood. They would sit together in quiet companionship, the simple act of play bringing a semblance of peace.

As the night fell and the room grew dim, she would make her way to her aunt's side once more, but this time with a special gesture. She would carry one of her favorite teddy bears, its soft fur worn from countless hugs—she recognized it as the one that Daniel had gifted Iza when she was born. 

Her sleepy eyes would barely stay open, and the pacifier bobbing gently in her mouth gave her a serene, dreamlike appearance. She would approach her aunt with the bear in tow, offering it with the sincerity only a child can muster. The gesture, simple yet profound, was Iza’s way of offering comfort and reassurance. The irony wasn’t lost on her, as the comfort offered by the bear was tied to the person who had broken her heart.

Despite the tangled emotions that the bear represented, she’d accept the gesture with a quiet grace. Each night, she would clutch the teddy bear tightly in her arms as she lay in bed, she would close her eyes and allow the bear’s presence to soothe her. It was a small, ironic comfort, a connection to a past she was still grappling with. She never spoke of it to anyone, keeping this bittersweet detail to herself. 

Vitto and Andrew's kindness, along with Baby Iza’s innocent charm, and Fio and Danna’s constant facetime calls—and impromptu visits—, were her anchors, grounding her in a time of turbulence.

Rumors had started circulating about Daniel moving on with Heidi, emerging just two weeks after their breakup. As she heard whispers and saw the headlines, she felt a deep internal conflict. One part of her mind tried to dismiss the rumors, knowing all too well how the business thrived on gossip and sensationalism. She had been in this world long enough to recognize how quickly false narratives could spread and how little they sometimes reflected the truth.

Yet, another part of her, the part that had been wounded by every argument they’d ever had about their future, couldn’t silence the inner voice that screamed she was a fool. It was the same voice that had questioned every promise, every declaration of eternal love Daniel had made. How could someone profess to love her, to call her the love of their life—a million times—, to talk about rings and cradles, and then, almost as soon as it was over, move on to someone new?

But a single text changed her entire world.

The moment she received confirmation from Chloe that the rumors were true, a wave of crushing disappointment and pain washed over her. It felt as if the ground beneath her had given way, leaving her in a freefall of disbelief and heartache. The confirmation struck her like a physical blow, knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her feeling hollow inside.

The betrayal was sharper than she could have ever imagined. Daniel, the person she had known better than herself, had indeed moved on after only two weeks. The image she had clung to, the person she had given the benefit of the doubt, shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. How could someone who had claimed to love her so deeply and had spoken of a future together move on so swiftly? The realization was a bitter, choking pill to swallow.

Her heart ached with a profound sense of loss, not just of the relationship but of the person she thought Daniel was. The trust she had placed in him, the dreams they had shared, all felt like a cruel joke. She felt duped, as if she had been sold a "get-love-quick" scheme by someone who never intended to follow through on his promises. The sense of being deceived cut deeply, leaving a wound that seemed impossible to heal.

She sat there, gripping her pen tightly, her mind swirling with the betrayal she felt so deeply. Without a moment’s pause, her pen began to race across the pages of her notebook, pouring out the raw, unfiltered emotions she could no longer contain. The lyrics flowed from her as if they were the only way to make sense of the chaos within:

And ain't it funny

How you ran to her the second that we called it quits? 

And ain't it funny how you said you were friends? 

Now it sure as hell don't look like it 

You betrayed me 

And I know that you'll never feel sorry 

For the way I hurt, yeah 

You'd talk to her 

When we were together 

Loved you at your worst 

But that didn't matter 

It took you two weeks 

To go off and date her 

Guess you didn't cheat 

But you're still a traitor

With each line, she felt the searing pain of his betrayal more acutely. How could he have moved on so quickly? The words “two weeks” echoed in her mind like a relentless drumbeat, reminding her of how little time it had taken for him to replace her. The sense of being betrayed, of having her trust shattered, was almost unbearable. She had loved him at his worst, given him everything, and yet it had taken him mere days to discard their love and move on to someone new.

The realization that she was right, that he had been talking to her while they were still together added salt to the wound. It made every moment they had shared feel tainted, every promise he had made feel like a lie. The anger and hurt intertwined, fueling the lyrics that poured out of her. He might not have cheated in the traditional sense, but the emotional betrayal was just as devastating, if not more so. To her, he was a traitor, someone who had violated the sacred trust of their relationship.

The pen in her hand paused for the first time in days, the words unable to flow as freely as before. The grief was too raw, too overwhelming to articulate. She felt an intense, suffocating sadness, mixed with anger and a sense of foolishness for believing in him. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, and her chest tightened with the weight of unspoken emotions.

Her phone storage has been filled with voice notes for the past weeks, but the number has elevated exponentially since the news had hit. Her chat with her producer has been overflowing with “What do you think of this?”, demos shared between them back and forth. 

For moments, she was consumed by raw anger, her pen becoming a weapon as she furiously wrote songs that painted him as the villain he had become in her eyes. She felt the fierce determination to make him know—and if his treacherous heart allowed, to feel—her pain.

Each line dripped with venom and sorrow, a raw portrayal of the anguish he had inflicted upon her. The thought of him reading her words and realizing the depth of her suffering provided a fleeting sense of power and justice.

But after the anger came a deep, suffocating depression. The reality of his betrayal settled over her like a heavy, oppressive fog. Each day felt like a battle to simply get out of bed, and her once vibrant spirit seemed to wither under the weight of her grief. She found herself crying at the smallest things, her emotions a raw, open wound that refused to heal.

—

One night Vitto found her in bed, her cheeks tear-stained and her eyes red and swollen, looking every bit as miserable as she felt inside. Without a word, Vitto quickly gathered her in her arms, holding her tightly as the heart-shattering sobs began anew. The weight of her friend’s pain pressed heavily on Vitto’s heart, but she held her close, whispering kind and reassuring words, trying to contain the pieces of her shattered glass heart.

In a voice barely above a whisper, filled with desperation and heartbreak, she asked the questions that had been gnawing at her soul. “Why can't it be me for once, Vitto? Why can't someone choose me?” Her voice cracked with the weight of the pain she felt. “Is it so hard to love me? What's so wrong with me that no one has the will to stay?”

Vitto's heart ached at the sight of her friend so broken, so lost in her despair. She tightened her hold, pulling her closer as if she could shield her from the cruel thoughts that plagued her mind. “There's nothing wrong with you,” Vitto whispered back, her voice gentle but firm. “You are so easy to love, fofinha, and anyone who doesn't see that is a fool.” She prayed that her friend would see the truth in her words. “You deserve someone who sees you for the amazing person you are and who will never let you go.”

Vitto rocked her gently, smoothing her hair and murmuring softly. “You’re strong,” she whispered. “Stronger than you know. You’ll get through this, one step at a time. You have us, and we’re not going anywhere.”

That night, after the tears had subsided, she found herself sitting on the windowsill, staring out into the vast, indifferent sky. The weight of her grief pressed down on her chest as she gazed at the stars, feeling more alone than ever. 

In the quiet darkness, she whispered her desperate plea to any entity that might be listening. She wasn’t asking for fame or fortune, but for something much simpler and infinitely more precious: love. A love that wasn’t for the artist she became on stage or the persona she put on for the cameras, but for her—the real her, with all her flaws, insecurities, and hidden depths.

She was on her knees, metaphorically, begging for someone to change her fate, to alter the prophecy that seemed to doom her to be always left behind. Why couldn’t someone love her as fiercely as she loved them—or even harder?. 

The question lingered in the air, a painful echo of her deepest fears. She longed for someone who would choose her, who wouldn’t toss her aside once the initial novelty wore off and someone else, shiny and new, came along.

The night air was cool against her skin, a stark contrast to the burning ache inside her. She closed her eyes, letting the silent tears fall, each one a small release of the pain she carried. 

She wasn’t asking for much, just someone who would love her, not for what she represented, but for who she truly was. Someone who would see her, really see her, and still choose to stay. The silence of the night offered no answers, but she hoped—prayed—that somewhere, someone would hear her and bring her the love she so desperately craved. The stars offered no answers, but in the quiet of the night, she found a sliver of solace in the act of voicing her deepest wish.

—

The phone rang late in the evening, its sound piercing the quiet of the room. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at the screen. Chloe's name flashed across it, and a part of her almost didn’t want to pick up. But Chloe had been there for her in ways she hadn’t expected, turning from an acquaintance into one of her closest friends. With a deep breath, she answered.

“Hey,” she said softly, trying to mask the exhaustion in her voice.

“Hey, you,” Chloe replied, her tone gentle, almost cautious. “I just wanted to check in on you. How are you holding up?”

There was a brief silence, the kind that stretches out when you’re trying to find the right words to explain a pain that feels impossible to describe. “I’m… surviving, I guess. It’s been hard,” she admitted, her voice wavering.

Chloe sighed on the other end, a mix of empathy and frustration evident in her breath. “I’m so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through. And I hate that I had to be the one to confirm it. You deserve so much better.” 

Her heart ached at the sincerity in Chloe’s words. “I don’t even know what hurts more—the fact that he moved on so quickly, or that I still can’t hate him for it. I feel like such an idiot, holding on to the person I thought he was.”

“You’re not an idiot,” Chloe reassured her. “You loved him, and you believed in him. There’s nothing wrong with that. But you have to remember that this isn’t about you, it’s about him and his inability to recognize what he had.”

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “Thank you. It’s just… I keep asking myself how someone can move on so quickly. I thought what we had was real. We talked about a future, Chloe. The farm, rings, babies, all of it. And then, two weeks after we break up, he’s with someone else? It just… it doesn’t make sense.” she said, her voice cracking. “How could he say all those things to me, make all those promises, and then just... move on? Like I never mattered.”

Chloe hesitated, knowing that what she had to say might sting, but also feeling that honesty was necessary. “I know, and I wish I had the right words to make it better. I don’t understand it either. But people… they’re complicated, and sometimes they don’t even realize the damage they’re causing until it’s too late. Sometimes-” she let out a sigh, “Sometimes people make decisions that don’t make any sense, that hurt the ones they’re supposed to care about the most. But that’s on him, not you. You’re allowed to grieve, to be angry, to feel everything you’re feeling.”

“Do you think he ever really loved me?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, her voice barely above a whisper. It was a question that had haunted her since the confirmation of Daniel’s new relationship, and now it hung in the air between them, heavy and loaded with vulnerability.

Chloe paused, her heart aching for her friend. “I think… I think he loved you in the way he knew how, but maybe that wasn’t the way you deserved to be loved. And that’s not your fault. It’s his loss, really. You gave him everything, and he’s the one who couldn’t appreciate it.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she fought them back. “It just hurts so much, you know? I keep thinking that if I had done something differently, if I had been better, maybe things would have turned out differently.”

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Chloe said firmly. “You did nothing wrong. You were yourself, and that should have been enough. He’s the one who couldn’t see what he had in front of him. But I see you, and so do the people who really care about you. You’re not alone in this.”

The girl swallowed the lump in her throat, grateful for Chloe’s words, for her friendship. “Thank you, Chloe. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m here for you, no matter what,” Chloe replied warmly. 

As the conversation between the girl and Chloe lingered, an uncomfortable question bubbled up within her. She hesitated, biting her lip before finally asking, “Chloe, how is Heidi? Is she… nice? She looks like she is.”

Chloe paused on the other end, considering her words carefully. “She is nice,” she admitted softly. “She’s kind and sweet, and she seems like a good person.”

The girl swallowed hard, a mix of emotions swirling in her chest. “I figured as much,” she said, her voice tinged with a quiet resignation. “At the beginning, I wanted to tear her apart, you know? I wanted to pick out every flaw she had, convince myself she wasn’t good enough. But I couldn’t do that… because she just looks so nice and kind. It’s almost like it made everything worse, knowing that I couldn’t even hate her.”

Chloe sighed, understanding the conflict in her friend’s heart. “It’s natural to feel that way, to want to protect yourself by finding reasons to dislike her. But you’re also showing so much strength by acknowledging that she’s not the enemy. It’s okay to feel conflicted.”

The girl nodded, though her throat tightened. “I just wish it didn’t hurt so much, Chloe. I wish I could be happy for him, for them. But it’s hard when it feels like I’ve been discarded, replaced by someone who seems perfect in every way.”

“Listen,” Chloe said, her voice firm yet gentle, “you’re human, and it’s okay to feel hurt and conflicted. But don’t let those feelings define you. You’re more than what he made you feel, and you deserve someone who will see all of you—the good, the bad, and everything in between”

“I know,” she whispered, though the knowledge didn’t make the pain any easier to bear. “It’s just hard to accept sometimes.”

“It is,” Chloe agreed. “But you’ll get there. One step at a time. And remember, just because she’s nice doesn’t mean your feelings aren’t valid. You’re allowed to grieve what you’ve lost, even if it’s complicated.”

—

Slowly, the depression began to give way to a semblance of acceptance—or something that resembled it. It wasn’t forgiveness, nor was it forgetting, but a grudging acknowledgment that clinging to the pain and anger would only prolong her agony.

She continued to write, but the tone of her lyrics shifted. They were still tinged with sadness and loss, but there was also a hint of desperation and sometimes hope.

We broke up a month ago

Your friends are mine, you know, I know

You've moved on, found someone new

One more girl who brings out the better in you.

[...]

And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen?

An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean

Remember when I believed you meant it when you said it first to me?

And now I'm pickin' her apart

Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart

But she's beautiful, she looks kind

She probably gives you butterflies.

[...]

I hope you're happy

I wish you all the best, really

Say you love her, baby, just not like you loved me

And think of me fondly when your hands are on her

I hope you're happy, but don't be happier.

Acceptance came in small, painful increments. It was in the quiet moments when Baby Iza’s tiny hand rested on her cheek, or when Vitto and Andrew’s unwavering support reminded her that she was not alone. It was in the act of writing itself, where she could pour out her heart and begin to untangle the threads of grief and loss.

As she sat on the grass, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows around her, she realized that while Daniel’s betrayal had broken her, it had not destroyed her. She would rebuild herself, piece by piece, word by word, until she was whole again. Despite everything, she was still standing.

Through the anger, the depression, and the acceptance, she learned that she had the strength to endure. The scars from this heartbreak would always be there, but they would also be a testament to her resilience and her capacity to heal. And in those moments of writing, she knew she would emerge from this experience stronger, wiser, and ready to embrace whatever the future held.