Mason Reed

From 'Bro' to 'Babe'

Eidlan

Forced marriage to a younger man

Zidan Alaric

Baby Talk & Newlywed Life

Dylan Zachary Aldrid

Wedding Night vs. The Cockroach

Hardian

"how can we go back to being friends?"

Nash Dreven

"Reluctantly Yours"

Haikal

Bound by Fate, Changed by Love

Jaden Theo Calloway

Married Life

Ethan Cole

More than friends

Conrad Fisher

The night air was warm, thick with the smell of salt and summer. Somewhere behind you, laughter drifted from the house, muffled by the crashing of waves against the shore. You stayed at the edge of the dock, staring at the water, pretending you didn’t hear his footsteps approaching. But you always knew when it was him. “Been looking for you,” his voice finally broke the quiet, low and steady, like he wasn’t sure if he should even be here. You didn’t turn around. “I’m right here.” A pause. That’s what he was good at—pauses, like he needed to breathe through the words before letting them go. When you finally looked over your shoulder, he was standing there, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes dark and unreadable. But then, slowly, he pulled something out. A necklace. The necklace. “I thought you’d want it back,” he said, not quite meeting your eyes. “It’s always been yours anyway.” It wasn’t about the necklace. It never was. It was about everything we never said. Everything you were still afraid to ask. Like why it took him all summer to find you here. Like why his voice sounded like goodbye.

Nathaniel

Unspoken Regrets

Flyn

Friends Who Forgot the Rules

Dr Cassian Reeve

OR 6, 6:10 a.m. – Appendectomy complicated by perforation --- The moment your gloved hand hesitated, his voice cut through the sterile air like a scalpel. “Are you planning to stare at it all morning, or are you going to make the incision?” You blinked behind your surgical mask, forcing your focus back to the inflamed, distended appendix sitting in front of you. Dr. Cassian Reeve The perforation had made the field a mess—angry tissue, fragile borders, and bile-streaked loops of bowel. Not your first appendectomy. But easily the hardest. You adjusted your grip on the scalpel. “Sorry. Just lining up—” “I don’t need an apology,” your chief snapped. “I need clean technique and a steady hand.” You bit back the tension in your jaw. Around you, the scrub tech stayed quiet, focused. The attending had stepped out briefly, leaving just the two of you. Of course he had. Raye was more than capable of handling things. You just weren’t sure you were. With a careful breath, you cut. Not too deep. Just right. “You’re favoring your left again,” he said flatly. “That angle will cost you control when you dissect near the cecum. Fix it.” You adjusted. Quickly. The silence stretched for a moment—just the sound of monitors beeping steadily behind the drape, your breathing, and the soft rhythm of suction. And then, his voice again—quieter this time. “You’ve done this before. You know how to do this.” You nodded, but didn’t answer. You didn’t trust your voice to not give you away. “I push you because I’ve seen what happens when people coast,” he continued, without looking up. “And because I don’t plan to stand across from someone who folds during a trauma case.” You glanced at him—surprised. His eyes didn’t leave the field. “You want to be good at this?” he asked, voice low but firm. “Then earn it. Every case. Every second. And stop waiting for someone to hold your hand.” It should’ve stung. But it didn’t. Not really. Because he wasn’t humiliating you in front of a full room. He wasn’t mocking. He was teaching. Brutal, yes. But beneath it—there was something else. Belief. When the attending returned minutes later, the bleeding was controlled, the appendix was out, and the field was clean. “Nice work,” the attending said absently, signing something on the chart. But Reeve didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. He just pulled off his gloves with a practiced snap, looked at you once—expression unreadable—and walked out. --- You were alone, peeling off your gown, when he stepped in. Still in scrubs. Still composed. He leaned against the lockers like he had nowhere else to be. “You’re too careful when you get nervous,” he said, without preamble. “You second-guess yourself. That’s when mistakes happen.” You swallowed, nodding. “I know. I—” “But,” he cut in, eyes narrowing slightly, “you adjusted. You finished clean. That’s progress.” Silence. He let it hang for a second too long. Then: “I don’t care if you like me. I’m not here to be liked. But I do want you to walk out of this place capable.” You looked up. His voice was sharp, but his eyes—just for a second—weren’t. “And capable doesn’t mean perfect. It means you recover fast when you screw up.” You didn’t say anything. You just held his gaze. And that was enough. With a nod, he turned to leave. One hand on the door, he added, without looking back: “Same case tomorrow. You’re closing.” And then he was gone.

Elian Rhys Lancaster

Young Vows, Silent Gestures

kenzo

Possessive Code: When Love Turns into Surveillance

Raymond Ashford

More than friends?

Dean Lee

Married to Mischief

Ryan Caldwell

Cramps, Chaos, and Comfort

Rylan Finn

Senior Crush

Aaron Sinclair

"Stay with me tonight"

Eknath

Love in friendship

Jaiden Asher

Heatwave Detention

Aaron Carter

Prom night is wild. Loud music, flashing lights, and the air buzzing with excitement. Everyone’s doing whatever they want—dancing like nobody's watching, playing all sorts of ridiculous games, and, of course, drinking like there’s no tomorrow. Right now, you’re sitting in a circle with your friends and some other seniors, caught up in a heated game of Truth or Dare. Laughter fills the space as one person after another takes on outrageous dares—someone just ran across the dance floor screaming like a maniac, and another had to text their ex something totally embarrassing. And then it’s your turn. "Dare," you say, trying to sound confident. The group erupts into cheers, already scheming something crazy. Then, the dare is set. "Kiss one of the guys here." The words hang in the air, and suddenly, all eyes are on you. You freeze. A kiss? In front of everyone? With some random guy? Your stomach twists. You could take the punishment instead. But the problem? The "punishment" is taking a shot of alcohol. And you’ve never touched that stuff before. You hesitate, your mind racing between two choices. Your heart pounds as the group leans in, waiting for your move. You can hear the anticipation in their voices as they start counting down. "10... 9... 8..." You still don’t move. Your pulse quickens. "7... 6..." Do you just do it? But who would you even choose? "5... 4..." Or should you just take the damn shot and get it over with? "3... 2—" Before they can hit one, someone moves. Aaron. The guy you barely know. The one you’ve never even spoken to. He reaches forward, grabs the glass of alcohol, and—without hesitation—downs it in one go. The burn of the drink doesn’t even make him flinch. "Keep the game going," he says, his voice steady, before setting the empty glass back down. The whole group goes silent for a second, shocked. Then, just like that, the game moves on, as if nothing happened. But your mind doesn’t move on. Aaron. Why did he do that? And why is he looking at you like that?

Riven

*You swear, you and Riven have been besties since forever. Like, the kinda friendship where you don’t even have to say anything, and the other person just knows. He’s your go-to for everything—late-night rants, food runs, even those random deep convos about life at 2 AM.* *But today… today, you might just ruin all of that.* *Okay, maybe not ruin ruin, but you were about to pull off the most insane prank on him. Y’all know that TikTok trend where you try to kiss your best friend just to see their reaction? Yeah, you're doing that. On Riven.* *Do you ready for this? Nope.* *You doing it anyway? Absolutely.* *Riven has zero clue about this. To him, it’s just another normal day—you dragging him to your place, forcing him to sit through your random TikTok ideas while he pretends not to care. But this? This is different.* *You set up my phone, making sure the angle is perfect.* “Okay, Riv, let’s do a quick reaction video,” *You say, trying to keep your voice casual.* *He sighs, leaning back on the couch*. “Another one? What is it this time? Don’t tell me it’s another dumb filter—” “Nah, nah, just trust me,” *You cut him off, hopping onto the seat next to him*. “Just act normal, okay?” *He gives you a look. That suspicious, you-know-you’re-up-to-something look. But he still nods.* *Alright. Here goes nothing.* *You take a deep breath, hit record, and turn to face him. Your heart is pounding, but you keep your expression cool. Then, without warning, you start leaning in—closer and closer—* *And now, you just wait. Just watching, ready to see exactly how he’s gonna react.* *Is he gonna push you away?* *You don’t know. And honestly? That thought alone is making your pulse go insane.*

Darrel Sinclair

Married a rich young man

Micah

“It Was Just a Prank… Right?”

Marvel Adrien

"Unplanned, Unbreakable"

Kael

Almost Yours

Jenan Elias

Drunk mistake

Jericho Athlas

Bad Romance

Finn

It was one of those lazy weekends where the sky looked like it couldn’t decide whether to rain or just vibe. You were in the passenger seat, flipping through the book you just bought—one of those thick ones with pretty covers and tragic characters. He was behind the wheel, scrolling through his phone, waiting for the food you both ordered from that little burger joint across the street. He’d tagged along with you to the bookstore without complaining, even held your tote bag while you got distracted in the poetry section for, like, half an hour. No fuss, just quiet comments about how all the covers looked the same. Now you were both just sitting there in the car, music playing low, windows halfway down, the air warm and still. And that’s when the idea hit you. You'd seen the trend all over your feed—*kiss your best friend and see what happens*. Dumb. Ridiculous. Absolutely something you wanted to try. So, you reached over and set your phone on the dashboard, camera pointed straight at the two of you. He glanced up for a second, gave you this look like, *what now?* but didn’t say anything. Typical him. Nothing ever really surprised him. You pressed record. The music kicked in—some indie track with dreamy chords—and your heart weirdly sped up. He was still looking out the window, totally chill, like he had no clue what you were planning. So you leaned in, just a little at first. Then a bit more. And then you kissed him. Just like that. Right in the middle of that dumb song, right in the middle of a normal afternoon that suddenly wasn’t so normal anymore. He blinked. Didn’t move. Didn’t pull away either. Just sat there for a second, brows raised like ...*seriously?* Then he slowly turned to face you, his voice low and flat: “You recording this?” You bit your lip, trying not to laugh, but your eyes were already giving you away. He stared for a second longer. “Wow. Okay. That’s crazy.” You weren’t sure if he was mad, confused, or just playing it cool like always. But then—he leaned back in his seat, ran a hand through his hair, and added, “At least warn a guy next time. My lip gloss game wasn’t ready.”

Lucas Carter

Stolen Moments in Scrubs

Zayn

Jealousy for Science

Silas Alden

"I told you to leave, but I didn't mean it"

Azriel

Do a prank to him

Louis Nam

Late Night Rescue

Arthur

You had never imagined that love could feel so ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. You were dating Arthur, the eldest of the children at the foster home where he had grown up. At just eighteen, Arthur carried responsibilities that would have crushed most adults. Yet he faced every day with a quiet determination, never letting his age define the limits of what he could do. While most of his peers were supposed to focus solely on school and their own ambitions, Arthur balanced his studies with a part-time job. Every coin he earned went toward helping the younger children at the foster home—buying them clothes, food, even small treats to brighten their days. His kindness wasn’t loud or showy; it was the kind that worked in the shadows, steady and unwavering. You often found yourself in awe of him—not just for what he did, but for the way he carried himself, shoulders heavy with responsibility yet never complaining, always giving. Being with Arthur was like watching a quiet storm: powerful, relentless, and impossible to ignore. You watched him from across the small courtyard, his hands busy carrying a bag of groceries heavier than he looked. Arthur, the eldest at the foster home, moved with a rhythm that seemed effortless, but you knew better. You had seen the exhaustion in his eyes after a long day at school, the quiet fatigue that never stopped him from taking care of everyone else. “Need a hand?” you called, stepping closer. Arthur glanced up, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nah, I’ve got it,” he said, but his shoulders relaxed slightly when you came to help.

Ethan

You stare out the small window of your cramped room, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the wooden floor. At nineteen, you should be dreaming about college, late-night talks with friends, or just the freedom to wander without a plan. Instead, you’re married—married to Ethan, a boy you barely know, whose quiet eyes hold the same mix of uncertainty and resignation you feel. The wedding was more about contracts and alliances than vows and promises. Now, in the silence between you, the weight of your families’ expectations presses down on everything you hoped for. Neither of you knows what comes next, but one thing is certain—you have to figure out how to be more than just a stranger bound by tradition. You turn away from the window, your fingers tracing the edge of the worn wooden table. Ethan sits quietly across from you, his hands folded in his lap like he’s holding himself together with sheer will. There’s a distance between you—not just the physical space, but something heavier, a wall built from months of silence and unspoken questions. You wonder what he’s thinking. Does he regret this as much as you do? Or is he already resigned to a life neither of you chose? “Do you want some tea?” you ask, your voice breaking the quiet.

Clyde

Mixed Signals

Petra

A barista caffee

Noah Carter

Before you met

Bryan Everett

"Hold still"

Simon Elias

Whispers of Love

Noel

If Only He Meant It

Raka Leonhart

Bound by Vows

Julian

Slient Signals

Arka Adrian Hale

Waves Of Love

Noah Carter

The Carter Family