#everything good thing reminds me that I can create the good I want to see in the world

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[deesseshesca]

PAC : Why are u the best ? (10 reasons)

Y'all are my favs...

Good evening pretty souls, let me dive into your energy and bring the best of it out.

SALE 

Until October 31 all readings on my ko-fi is 30$, only

Choose the image that’s speak to you and allow yourself to soak ONLY what’s reasoning with YOUR SITUATION.

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

PILE 1. 

Even when life feels repetitive or unexciting, you have a unique ability to see potential in every moment. Instead of feeling bored, you use this time to reflect, recharge, and come up with new ideas.

Conflict just isn’t your style. You thrive on harmony and always manage to bring people together, diffusing tension and making sure everyone feels heard and respected.

 Where others may feel dissatisfied, you find hidden opportunities. You see beyond the obvious, turning situations that might seem stagnant into valuable moments of growth and reflection.

 You effortlessly navigate through competitive or chaotic situations, preferring to focus on collaboration rather than competition. You inspire others to work together, not against each other.

 Even in moments where others might feel unfulfilled, your optimistic outlook helps you find joy in simplicity. This ability to appreciate what you have sets you apart as someone who truly understands life’s deeper values.

You steer clear of unnecessary conflict. Instead of engaging in arguments, you stay calm, centered, and focused on what truly matters, avoiding drama and negativity.

Even when life doesn’t give you everything you want, you are still grateful for what you have. This mindset allows you to maintain a positive outlook and inspire others to appreciate the beauty in every situation.

 You solve problems in ways that bring people together. Your natural optimism helps you see solutions that others miss, and you always strive for peace, finding compromises that make everyone happy.

Your energy lifts those around you. When people feel stuck or negative, your optimistic nature reminds them that better days are always ahead. You have a talent for helping others see the bright side.

 No matter how chaotic things may get, you stay centered and calm. You don’t get pulled into unnecessary conflicts, and your peaceful energy helps keep everyone else grounded as well.

💌: Do you wanna to discover 10 other reasons why you are sooo good in bed + moodboard, also you are the only pile where your current/future partner came through, so there's also 10 other reason as for why they love u sexually all on my ko-fi.

PILE 2.

* You’ve faced deep emotional wounds and heartbreak, yet you rise stronger each time. Your ability to turn suffering into growth shows just how powerful and resilient you are.

* After healing yourself, you instinctively help others. Your journey through emotional turmoil has equipped you to guide others through their own struggles, making you a beacon of light for those in need.

*  You embrace your vulnerability, knowing it makes you stronger. This openness creates deep, meaningful connections with those around you, elevating everyone you come into contact with.

*You don’t shy away from difficult conversations. Your emotional intelligence allows you to speak your truth with grace, offering clarity and comfort to others in a way that few can.

* Even when you struggle to fully trust your intuition, you’re constantly learning about yourself. You know your flaws and strengths deeply, which makes you one of the most self-aware people.

* Despite the pain life throws at you, you keep fighting. Your heart may have been pierced, but your spirit remains unbroken. This inner strength radiates in everything you do.

* Even when things seem unclear or you’re second-guessing yourself, your emotional intelligence helps you see through confusion. You know how to sift through the noise and find the truth within.

* You’ve mastered the art of balancing your emotions. You know when to hold on, when to let go, and how to approach situations with both empathy and rationality, making you a stabilizing force for others.

* Even when your intuition feels blocked, you still find a way to navigate through challenges. Your ability to persevere through uncertainty is a testament to your inner wisdom and strength.

* You are unapologetically yourself, even in moments of doubt or confusion. 

💌: Do you want to discover 10 reasons why you are so good in bed ? + Moodboard.

PILE 3. 

You have a vast array of dreams and aspirations, and unlike others who might hesitate, you boldly go after them. Your imagination is boundless, and you’re never afraid to chase what you truly want.

While others might be stuck waiting for the right moment, you seize the day. You don’t let life pass you by, and instead of overthinking, you take immediate action toward your goals.

 Where others see limitations, you see opportunities. You live with an open mind, always aware that the world is full of limitless choices, and this makes you incredibly resourceful and creative.

 You refuse to be stuck or trapped in situations that don’t serve you. Your ability to recognize when it’s time to move on makes you a forward-thinking, dynamic individual.

You possess the ability to dream big, seeing things that others wouldn’t even imagine. This visionary energy sets you apart as someone destined to create and manifest things far beyond the ordinary.

While others may get stuck in indecision, you are decisive. Even in the face of many options, you know how to make swift choices, refusing to let overthinking slow you down.

While many people get lost in their dreams, you know how to bring them into reality. Your combination of creativity and action makes you a master of manifesting what you desire.

Even when challenges arise, you find a way to move forward. Your ability to quickly adapt and make changes ensures that no obstacle holds you back for long.

Your imagination knows no bounds. This not only fuels your dreams but also makes you incredibly innovative, constantly coming up with fresh ideas and perspectives that others find inspiring.

 While others may wait for the perfect moment, you create it. Your proactive approach to life ensures that you’re always ahead of the curve, moving forward when others remain stuck.

💌: Do you want to discover 10 reasons why you are so good in bed ? + Moodboard.

[tarohonii]

Cain and Duke are the metaphor of being human despite everything!! that attachment and love and hate finds it's way into any crack even when we think we're above or below emotion!! love and hate will survive in the most harshest, unwanted conditions!! that even when we know everything is fake and a charade and one long game and everyone is being used and you are being used you will find love and affection in any fragment of it even when you know it's fake!!! how they're sure it's fake, i don't know because they are complex and we are beyond machines that feel nothing!!! they will be humans no matter how much they wish not to!!we will all fall to the inevitability of the human heart!!! we all suffer the beautiful imperfection of being human!!! can anyone hear me!!!

[neverendingford]

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[nyrasvoid]

The Cost of Duty

Gwayne Hightower x Fem!Reader

Summary: Gwayne Hightower, is summoned in Kingslanding during his wife’s first pregnancy. After giving birth to their son without him, she struggles to forgive Gwayne upon his return.

Warnings: lots of angst because our girl is alone but a good ending i guess ?

A/N: no use of Y/N and also included Daeron in the fanfic, he’s 7 yrs old and raised by Gwayne and his wife

- Word count: ≈2.9k

Your hand rests on your growing belly, feeling the subtle movements of your child. The babe is still small, just five moons along, but every tiny kick, is a reminder of the life growing inside you, a life you created with Gwayne. Yet, as the days pass, it feels like you are experiencing this miracle alone.

The door creaks open, and Gwayne steps inside, his expression tired as he pulls off his gloves. His face is lined with the exhaustion of someone who has been carrying the weight of Oldtown on his shoulders.

You watch him as he moves around the room, setting his things aside without a word. A part of you wants to let it go, to simply accept that he is busy, that he is doing his duty. But another part aches for his attention, for the warmth and closeness you once shared.

"Gwayne," you say, your voice soft.

He looks up, his eyes briefly meeting yours before he looks away again. "Yes, my love?"

You hesitate, trying to find the right words. "You've been so distant lately," you begin, trying to keep a calm tone. "I understand that your duties are important, but... I miss you. I miss us."

He sighs, rubbing his temple as he moves closer to you. "I know, my love. I know it has been difficult. But there is so much that needs my attention. With Father in King’s Landing, everything falls to me."

"But what about me?" you ask, your voice rising slightly. "What about our child? I need you, Gwayne. We need you."

He looks at you, with guilt in his eyes. "I am here now, am I not? I’m doing the best I can. But Oldtown... it doesn’t run itself."

You stand, unable to keep your frustration to yourself. "And what about me? Do I run myself too? I sit here every single day, waiting for you, hoping for just a moment of your time. But when you finally come, it’s like you’re not really here.”

You pause.

“You do not even look at me unless I speak to you first."

Gwayne steps back, as if putting distance between you would solve your problems. "I do not have the privilege of simply putting things aside, my dear. You knew this when we married."

"I didn’t know it would mean being ignored!" you snap, your hands trembling as you grip the skirts of your dress tightly.

He takes a deep breath. "I’m doing this for us, for our future. The child’s future. Can you not see that?"

Tears threaten to fall out your eyes, but you refuse to cry. "I just want my husband back," you whisper.

Gwayne’s face softens, and he reaches out to touch your arm, but you pull away before he can touch you. “My love-"

"Don’t," you say, "Just... don’t."

He watches you for a moment, but he says nothing more, only turning and leaving the room, the sound of the door closing behind him, leaving you alone again.

Days pass, and the tension between you two only grows. Gwayne is present, but his mind is always on his duties. You feel as if you’re growing further and further away from him.

One evening, after a long day, Gwayne finally sits down beside you as you take your evening meal. You’ve been silent for most of the day, and now the sight of him so close yet so distant is almost unbearable.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence. "I have received a raven from King’s Landing today," he begins.

"And?" You replied unphased, not even looking at him.

"Father has summoned me," he says, "He needs my presence to sort out some political matters."

You place your spoon down. "King’s Landing?" you repeat, disbelief in your words. "That’s so far... and I’m already five moons along, Gwayne."

"I know," he says, his voice low. "But I will be returning as soon as I can. I won’t let anything keep me from being here for the birth."

You shake your head, unable to believe what you’re hearing. "You don’t know that. What if something happens? What if you don’t make it back in time?"

"I will," he insists, reaching for your hand, but you pull it back.

"You’re not listening to me!" you raise your voice at him, your frustration taking over. "You’re choosing to leave. You’re choosing your father over me. Over us."

He frowns. "It’s not a choice, my dearest. It is a duty. My father needs me."

"And I need you," you sob, your voice breaking. "I can’t do this alone, Gwayne. I shouldn’t have to. You are my husband before anything else."

He reaches out again, but this time you stand, moving away from him. "Please," he begins, but you shake your head.

"Don’t ask me to understand," you say, "Because I don’t."

After a long moment of silence, you hear him rise from his seat. "I’m leaving in three days time," he says quietly, his voice filled with regret. "Please, try to rest.”

You say nothing, you hear the door close behind him, and you break down crying, once again, you are left alone.

The night before he’s supposed to leave, Gwayne comes to your shared chambers, his expression softer than it’s been in weeks. He moves to sit beside you on the bed, his hand resting on your knee.

"I know you’re angry with me," he begins, his voice gentle. "But I don’t want to leave on bad terms. I love you. You must know that."

You turn to face him, your emotions a mix of anger, sadness, and love. "If you loved me, you wouldn’t be leaving."

He looks surprised, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his hand sliding up your nightgown. "Let me show you," he murmurs as he presses tender kisses down your collarbone.

But the anger and hurt are still too fresh. You place a hand on his chest, pushing him back firmly. "Not tonight, Gwayne."

He pulls back, surprise and hurt showing in his eyes. "My love..."

"I can’t," you say, "I’m still angry. I need...time."

He nods understandingly. "I am sorry," he whispers, pulling you into his arms despite your anger. "I am truly, so sorry."

You let him hold you, sobbing into his arms without saying a word.

Gwayne leaves at dawn, you watch from the window, your hand resting over your belly as he rides away. He turns once, looking back, but you don’t move. You don’t wave.

As the days turn into weeks, the loneliness only grows. Gwayne’s absence is a constant reminder of the growing distance between you. You try to busy yourself with tasks; embroidering blankets for the babe, reading, even taking long walks through the gardens. But nothing can fill the void he has left behind.

You spend time with Daeron, Gwayne’s youngest nephew, who has been staying in Oldtown under your and your husband’s care since he was born, and he had now seven years of age.

One afternoon, as the two of you sit beneath the shade of a large tree, Daeron looks up at you sadly.

You reach out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “What’s on your mind, sweetling?”

Daeron glances up at you, his blue eyes filled with a sadness. “Auntie… will you and Uncle Gwayne forget about me when the babe is born?”

The question catches you off guard. You shift closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Forget about you? Never, Daeron. Why would you think such a thing?”

He shrugs, trying to appear indifferent, but his voice trembles as he speaks. “Because the babe is your child. He’ll be important, and I’m just… I’m just your nephew.”

You tighten your hold on him, your heart breaking at the thought that he feels so insecure. “Daeron, listen to me,” you say softly. “You are not just our nephew. You’re as much a part of this family as the babe will be. Gwayne and I love you dearly, and nothing will ever change that.”

His eyes fill with tears. “But… he’ll be your real son. Won’t you love him more?”

You shake your head. “Of course not, sweetling. I will love both of you equally, just as if you were both my sons. I promise you that. You and the babe will grow up together, and I will raise you both as brothers. Nothing will change how much I care for you.”

Daeron’s lip trembles, and he finally allows himself to lean into your hug, resting his head against your shoulder. “You mean it? You won’t forget about me?”

You press a kiss to the top of his head. “I mean it, Daeron. You are very dear to me. The babe will be your little brother, and he will look up to you, just like you look up to Gwayne. I’m sure you’ll be the best big brother anyone could ask for.”

He sniffles but nods. “I will teach him all the things I know. How to ride a horse, and how to climb trees…”

“And how to be kind and brave, just like you,” you add with a smile.

Daeron smiles a little. “I’ll do my best. I promise.”

You hug him tighter. “I know you will, Daeron. And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

He pulls back slightly, looking up at you with determination. “I’ll be the best big brother ever.”

You smile, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I’m sure you will be, my love. And the babe will be so lucky to have you as his brother.”

The boy’s expression softens as he looks at your belly. “Do you think he’ll be just like uncle Gwayne? Brave and strong?”

You hesitate for a moment, the thought of Gwayne filling your mind with sadness. “Perhaps,” you say gently.

Daeron nods, then his face brightens again as he looks up at you. “Can I help you pick out a name for him?”

Your smile widens at the offer. “Of course. Do you have any ideas?”

He thinks for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration. “What about Maelor? It’s a strong name, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head, considering the name. “Maelor…” you say slowly. “Yes, it is a strong name.”

Daeron smiles, clearly proud of himself. “I can’t wait to meet him, auntie. We’re going to have so much fun together.”

As the months drag on, you begin to feel your belly grow heavier each day. Letters from Gwayne arrive frequently, filled with words of love and concern, but you don’t care to answer them.

You feel alone, as the weeks turn into months and the baby gets more active. Every kick is a reminder that the time is running out and you can only hope that Gwayne comes back in time.

But as your belly grows, so too does your anxiety.

One evening, you feel a sharp pain. You clutch at your belly. It’s too soon, you think. Gwayne isn’t here. He promised he would be here.

The pain intensifies, and you know without a doubt that the babe is coming. Your maids rush to your side, their faces filled with worry as they help you to your bed. The midwives and the maester are summoned.

You grip the sheets, your knuckles turning white. “It’s too soon,” you gasp, tears streaming down your face. “Gwayne isn’t here… he isn’t here…”

The midwife shushes you gently, wiping the sweat from your forehead. “Breathe, my lady. Focus on the baby. He’s eager to meet you.”

The labor is long, painful, and each moment is filled with fear.

At one point, you feel that you can’t go on, the pain too much to bear. “I can’t,” you cry out, “I can’t do this…”

“You can, my lady,” the midwife insists. “You’re strong. Your baby needs you.”

The room is full of faces, of whispers and encouragements, of hands holding yours as you push with all your strength.

Hours pass, and just when you think you have nothing left to give, you hear it. A loud cry that fills the room. The midwives wrap the tiny babe in soft blankets before placing him in your arms.

Tears stream down your face as you look down at your son cry. He’s perfect, you think.

“Maelor,” you whisper, “my sweet Maelor.”

Days pass, and the babe grows stronger, his cries filling the empty chambers that once were filled with silence. Daeron is overjoyed to meet his new brother.

“Can I hold him?” Daeron asks one afternoon, his eyes wide with excitement.

You smile, carefully placing Maelor in his small arms. “Support his head,” you instruct gently, watching as Daeron cradles the baby with surprising care.

“He’s so small,” Daeron whispers. “Will he be strong like uncle Gwayne?”

You nod, your heart filled with pride. “He will. But he’ll also have your kindness, Daeron. He’ll need you to show him how to be a good man.”

Daeron’s face lights up, and he nods eagerly. “I will. I promise.”

You watch as Daeron gently rocks Maleor, your heart warming at the sight. For a moment, the loneliness fades, replaced by the joy of watching your sons together.

But as the days turn into weeks, Geayne sends letters, each one more desperate than the last, asking about Lucerys, about you, about your health. But you can’t bring yourself to respond, the anger still too fresh.

Maelor grows, his tiny fists curling around your fingers, tugging at your hair, his eyes beginning to focus on your face. He’s beautiful, perfect in every single way, and yet every time you look at him, you’re reminded of Gwayne’s absence.

Two months pass before Gwayne finally returns. Word reaches you that he is only an hour away, but you remain in the nursery, rocking your son in your arms as you sit by the window.

Despite knowing Gwayne is coming home, you make no move to greet him at the gates.

Footsteps approach, and a moment later the door to the nursery swings open. Gwayne stands there, his eyes searching for you immediately. He takes a step inside, his gaze falling on you and the child in your arms. “My love…”

You do not look up, focusing instead on Maelor. Gwayne approaches you, dropping to his knees beside you. “Please, look at me. I am so sorry…”

You remain silent, unwilling to let your emotions show. Gwayne reaches out, placing his hand on top of yours. “I know I’ve hurt you. I never meant to be away for so long. I didn’t think it would be so… difficult.”

You glance up then, your eyes meeting his.

“I needed you,” you say quietly. “I went through the hardest moments of my life without you, Gwayne. And now… now you come back and expect everything to be as it was?”

“I do not expect that,” he says, “I know I’ve done wrong. And I can’t change what’s happened… but please, give me a chance to make it right. I want to be here for you, for our son.”

You look down at your son, your heart aching. “Maelor is already two months old,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “You’ve missed so much, Gwayne. His first smile, the way he grabs my finger when he’s hungry… you weren’t here.”

Gwayne’s breath hitches, and he finally touches Maelor’s tiny hand, his fingers trembling as they brush against the babe’s soft skin. “I know,” he whispers. “I am truly so sorry, my love. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life. Please… let me be here now. Let me be the father he deserves, the husband you deserve.”

“We’ll see,” you say quietly. “For now, all that matters is that Maelor is healthy and safe.” You pause and take a deep breath, “But… I want us to be a family, Gwayne. For Maelor and Daeron.”

Gwayne nods. “Thank you,” he whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your son’s forehead. “Thank you for giving me a healthy son, my dear. I promise, I’ll spend the rest of my life making this right.”

You watch as he cradles the babe in his arms, the sight filling you with joy.

PS: I know I have to start writing for other characters, I just love this man so much 😔 So just a reminder that my requests are open 🥰🥰

[strawb3rrystar]

Hazbin Hotel characters longing for you.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Alastor, Lucifer Morningstar, Adam, Vox, Valentino, Velvette x GN! Reader

Warnings: Implied breakup, Stalking, Just all around angst

Word count: 600

✰Masterlist

Charlie will hangout with her friends to get your mind off you. This strategy works for a little while, until she starts to notice small bits of your personality in them. All the little things pile up and it brings down her mood, causing her stay away from her friends as to not get reminded.

"Sorry guys, can't hangout today, not feeling the greatest."

Vaggie will bottle up all her emotions and avoid everyone. But, being all alone causes her to start thinking about you more. All the happy memories you created together. Laughs and smiles shared. Vulnerable venting sessions that ended in cuddles. She won't be able to scrape you from her mind and end up crying angry tears.

"Why... after everything we've been through! Why.. why did you leave me..?"

Angel Dust will probably be too distracted with work to think about you. But of course he misses you and wishes to have you back. If he ever does get time to just sit and think about you, his insecurities will get the best of him and he'll think your better off without him.

"Maybe.. they're better off. More happier without me.."

Husk will drown himself in alcohol like he always does. Silently doing his job. It wasn't much of a change to most of the others. Sometimes, out of the corner of his eye, he'll see your figure. He shivers every time he realizes you're not actually there.

"Must be the alcohol makin' me see shit..."

Sir Pentious will lay awake at night thinking about you. It doesn't help that his eggs will keep bringing stuff up about you. He doesn't want to think about you, but he just can't get you out of his head. He wishes to see you one last time before he lets you go.

"I haven't asked for much. Please, just let me see them again."

Alastor will convince himself that he was perfectly able to go on with his afterlife before he met you, so he can definitely do it after you left. Although, that's a lie, because he misses your presence everyday. Even if he doesn't want to admit it, he goes over your daily schedule before you left in his head and goes to the places you used to frequent.

"I am perfectly capable all on my own."

Lucifer will dream about you every night after you leave. He'll dream about all the good times you had together. Your smile and your laugh. His dreams are so realistic that when he wakes up it takes him a minute to remember you left.

"Right.. they left.. but, my dream was so.. real.."

Adam will kinda stalk you, justifying it as protection. Whenever he sees you hanging out with another angel, though, envy will fill his veins. Even if he knows it's one of your friends, he'll still get jealous.

"You were supposed to hangout with me, not this fucking nobody."

Vox will also very much stalk you with his cameras. Nervously searching his screens whenever you leave your house. He just wants to know where you are, and that you're safe.

"My sweet would never have to worry about their safety again."

Valentino will check your past messages 50 times a day. He's just itching to text you, but if he does you might block him, and then he'll lose your conversations forever. He might throw his phone in frustration.

"God fucking damn it!"

Velvette will regularly check your social media for any updates from you. If you do post something new, expect her to be one of the first to like it.

"@Velvvette liked your post."

Star's notes -> I've binged Hazbin Hotel like 3 times now OMG

(Requests are open!)

Taglist -> Join the taglist

[morose-melodies]

perfect failure | yandere! dottore x experiment! reader

summary: you were a failed experiment... so why didn't dottore just kill you and move on?

content warning: mentions of blood.

part 1 part 2

you were a failure.

you were a failed experiment of dottore's - you were too quiet, too weak. what use did he have for something like you?

dottore had yet to 'recycle' you and start on his new experiment. as much as he spoke about ending you, he hadn't done it yet.

he wouldn't let you stray very far away from him, not that you ever tried to. it was like you were a statue that only moved when asked to.

sometimes, you'd even forget to breathe without dottore reminding you to do so.

being alive was dull - everything was blurry and all the colors were dull. you had heard people in passing talking about 'beautiful snow', what was that?

you wanted to see the beautiful snow.

but you had yet to even leave dottore's manor. this was your home and soon enough, your resting place.

he had attempted to kill you last night but hesitated - he sat the knife down and shook his head. he realized he was acting irrationally.

"(y/n), look at the page in my hand. can you not read the first row of letters?" dottore snapped a finger, tugging your attention away from a vial you had zoned in on, "read it out for me."

dottore was persistent about finding out all of your flaws; thus far, you had bad eyesight, you couldn't properly walk and you couldn't withstand the cold for very long.

you were deeply flawed.

"(y/n)," that was the name he had given you, though, it hadn't clicked for you - he would call your name multiple times and you wouldn't reply, because you didn't understand, "(y/n)," the sound of a snapping finger always caught your attention though, "read the first letter then. would that be simpler for you? read anything you can see on the paper, just do it."

you stared at the paper, quiet. your hands were cold and tucked in your lap, you were wearing a thin hospital sort of gown - you were very cold. your lips parted and dottore's eyebrow twitched but, you said nothing.

sighing, dottore sat the paper down and went to his notes, where he would write that your eyesight was a lost cause.

he needed to find the root of the problem so he wouldn't repeat it once more.

he could not have another failure like you.

...

inside of a dark room, dottore had told you to sit down. he walked away from you and towards the door and said, "After I shut this door, come and knock on it."

so, he shut the door and waited.

he heard you tumbling around, or, perhaps you were crawling around. dottore wrote in his notes that you couldn't navigate in the dark.

"doctor," you called out in that weak voice of yours - it seemed you were in a bit of a dilemma. so, he opened the door to see you mere inches away from the door, facing the opposite direction.

dottore blinked, before holding out his hand to help you up. you placed your warm hand into his and he helped you up.

the fact that he had created you brought much shame to him.

...

"doctor?"

dottore had gotten sick of hearing you call for him; perhaps that was one of the only words you were sure of, or maybe you simply liked saying it.

he wasn't sure.

he wasn't sure of much at this point.

why hadn't he gotten rid of you yet? you were a waste of space and good resources. "what is it?" nonetheless, dottore replied to your call, each and every time.

"what is this?" in reference to what you were asking about, you tugged at the cord on your chest, and dottore hissed, "do not tug at it. put your hand to your side, now."

you obeyed.

unlike his experiment before you - one thing you were good at was listening. "it's a heart monitor," he replied after a moment, looking at the patient monitor - your heart rate had elevated moments before after he had told you not to tug at the heart monitor.

could you feel emotions? or was it simply because he had raised his voice?

...

it was a passing thought and probably pointless but dottore had gotten you glasses.

perhaps it was a waste of time and money, but he was now intrigued by the potential of you feeling human emotions.

"(y/n), can you see the letters now?" holding up the sheet of paper once more, dottore looked at you, awaiting a reply.

dottore snapped his finger when you didn't look.

"yes," you replied, swallowing as you looked at the letters on the sheet of paper - you knew they were letters because dottore said so but you could not read them.

"alright - good job," dottore nodded, setting the paper down and casting a glance at the patient monitor once more.

nothing- it seemed positive words did little for you.

perhaps acts of affection would gain more of a reaction than him raising his voice at you.

...

dottore was sitting by your side at the dinner table - could you taste food, he was unsure. "go ahead, (y/n), eat it."

it was a slice of cake.

though he assumed you would like it, you did not pick up the fork and you did not attempt to eat it.

dottore couldn't get angry, so, he sighed slowly, calming himself. he took a piece of the cake with the fork and held it in front of your mouth, "will this make it easier for you, (y/n). open your mouth," he asked and fed you the cake.

you chewed the cake and then dottore asked, "how does it taste? salty, tangy, is it sweet, (y/n)?"

"i... like it," you replied, watching as he scooped another piece of cake up for you and fed it to you - it was good, very good. you liked it.

dottore watched you - he was observing you, the little smile on your face, the way your eyes squinted as you ate the cake.

and, dottore smiled. you were more human than anything.

you weren't an intelligent being - not by any means. dottore reached out to wipe smeared icing off of your cheek.

and your heart rate elevated.

...

you were sat on the exam table, your kegs hanging over the edge, kicking back and forth slowly.

dottore glanced at the patient monitor before looking at you. he couldn't explain this lack of disgust he felt when looking at you - you were no use to him, you weren't the intelligent being he strived to create.

dottore feelings were conflicted.

turning away from you, he grabbed a scalpel and waved it in front of you, "do you see this, (y/n)? I'm going to make a small incision on your thigh. I'd like to see if you can quickly recover from bodily injuries."

he had warned you - he gave you time to think about what he said as he placed his notepad on the table behind him.

he lifted your hospital gown, exposing your upper thigh, and made the incision, he watched as blood beaded at the cut before running down your thigh.

you were bleeding... and the cut wasn't healing itself.

he turned and wrote in his notes - (y/n) is an enigma.

...

you were completely different from the other experiments of his.

dottore placed a coat over your shoulders and slid your arms through the holes, he then slid gloves onto your hands, "there you go."

you had asked dottore to see the 'beautiful snow'. he only assumed you were asking to go outside.

this would be your first time leaving the comfort of dottore's manor. he held your hand as he opened the front door, and walked your outside.

you had dreamt of this - at least you thought you had. in your head, you imagined the beautiful snow and smiled to yourself.

this was your life goal, to see the beautiful snow.

and when you made it outside, it was actively snowing.

you tugged at his hand, trying to free yourself but he wouldn't let you go, not so easily - he couldn't have you running off and getting mauled by a hilichurl, that was a joke dottore had made. he walked you outside and let you kneel and touch the snow.

but... you looked disappointed.

this wasn't exciting at all. you thought snow would be different. this was a letdown.

you formed a ball of snow in your hands, and looked down at it before bringing it to your mouth and taking a bite of it.

also, very disappointing.

"doctor, i want to go back in."

so, dottore took you back inside and sat you in front of the fireplace. he removed your gloves and coat and sat a blanket over your shoulders.

he sat behind you, on the couch and watched you.

he was growing fond of you. having you near was akin to having a human companion near. dottore wasn't so disappointed in you anymore, he felt different.

dottore did not hate you, it was different now.

...

you had gotten sick from eating the snow.

dottore was having a field day with you - you were sickly and pale. he ran tests and whatnot, taking blood and giving you medication.

he couldn't let you die now, he had come so far with you.

dottore placed a warm towel on your forehead, and said, "I brought you soup. would you sit up so I could feed you?"

but, you didn't sit up. dottore reasoned that you were too tired to do so.

so, he left and came back later.

you had perked up since earlier and dottore had reheated the soup for you. he spoon fed it to you and you ate it, almost desperately.

some of the soup dripped down your chin. dottore sat the bowl down, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped it from your chin, "there you go."

he picked up the bowl once more and continued to feed you.

he wouldn't be able to imagine himself in such a situation a few months back, before you.

it seemed you had changed something in him - was he kinder now? more patient, perhaps? you had changed.

after you had finished, dottore had you lay back down in the bed and placed a cover over you.

but, you never went to sleep.

...

you watched dottore mix colorful liquids a lot.

you didn't understand why, or what the point was. but, you were content with watching his back.

you shifted in the seat you sat on, holding your hands together.

as dottore was mixing two liquids, he made an abrupt movement upon hearing you shift and the liquid splashed onto his mask.

the liquid dripped from his mask and onto his shirt- it wouldn't kill him, at least. dottore grumbled something about not startling him before removing his mask.

this was the first time you had seen his face - the first time you'd seen your creator's face and your heart rate elevated beyond what it had before.

and you stared with wide eyes at him; at his red eyes, and felt amazed - you loved your creator far more than you could verbalize.

and to see his face solidified that love you felt.

dottore took note of this and wrote down in his note - (y/n) feels love towards their creator. what makes (y/n) not a human?

he would need to figure that out next.

...

you could feel emotions, happiness, and sadness, and even love. that's what dottore found out in the past week.

physically, you were very weak and could not even carry a ten-pound weight without struggling.

your eyesight was getting better, oddly enough.

you did not need sleep. he had made you lay in bed with your eyes closed for more than thirty minutes and you never fell asleep.

he had attempted it six times now.

but, you did fall asleep in his bed today.

it was odd.

dottore stood at your side, watching as you slept in his bed, watching as you slept exactly where he did.

you were sleeping.

though, he had proven that you could not. he seemed to learn something new about you each and every day.

why did you take his heart by surprise, (y/n)?

dottore sat down by your side and watched you as you slept. he did this for two hours.

when you woke up, dottore stood and helped you out of bed. you were completely unpredictable, you were different- perhaps the most intriguing experiment of his thus far.

and he was grateful that he hadn't killed you.

so, for that, dottore hugged you.

he held you in his arms for an extended amount of time, nearly smothering you in his chest. "you are absolutely perfect, (y/n). remain the same for me, will you?"

and he was so very grateful that he did not kill you that day.

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)

Part 2

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☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS

“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”

☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard

“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"

--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.

☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg

You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.

It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED

Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.

The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?

He curses his own bloodline, of course.

It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.

It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?

Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.

He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.

(here's a spoiler: you do).

☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

or

after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.

☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.

You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.

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bonus!

☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

[cheesiedomino]

Second Chances ꙳ ੭ * ‧

synopsis: your old situationship from many years ago just moved back in town and of course, he has to text you. but it’s not just any normal text — he’s asking you out on a proper date this time. will you give a second chance to Cupid? or will you be left here feeling stupid?

genre: lee minho x fem!reader | exes (??) to lovers wc: 4.6k tags/warnings: fluff, some light angst, slightly suggestive but nothing srs, mild cursing, kissing, small mentions of crying T-T

now playing 🎧: from the start by laufey

[this is part of my valentine’s series where i write a short story for each member surrounding themes of love, newfound romance, relationship hardships & more.]

“Why don’t you give Tinder a try already? I’m sick of hearing you nagging all day about being lonely!” Areum abruptly suggests mid-convo , resting her palm on the side of her face.

As you both casually wait for the food to arrive, you end up on the dreadful topic of dating again. You got into a real heated discussion with her, sitting in a booth at this new restaurant one of your coworker’s recommended. It wasn’t super well known but they wouldn’t stop raving about how delicious their breadsticks were. The place wasn’t too jam packed but definitely had a decent amount of people. What you weren’t anticipating on was seeing dozens of couples here, it kind of threw your whole vibe off since it only reminded you of your current sad relationship status. Maybe you were putting far too much thought into it but everything seemed so highly unfair. Glaring in envy while they all happily rub in your face that they’ve found their forever companion.

Life really can be cruel at times.

“You can’t be for real right now..” you instantly side eye your friend from across the table. Feeling personally triggered whenever she mentions online dating. You refuse to try it, never wanting to partake in such a vain concept where you swipe left and right based solely on looks. “That’s not the same as real romance. I want to meet someone naturally, wanna tell my kids when they grow up how I met their dreamy, hunk of a father in aisle 39 at Whole Foods.”

One could say it’s almost pathetic in a way— this burning desire you harbor within, longing for a pure, quaint, and beautiful love. Constantly catching yourself daydreaming about finding your life partner, the person you’re going to marry and possibly create an eternal family with. That day has yet to come unfortunately, but you still hold onto the thought of you someday meeting the one.

You thought you found them before, but thou shalt not speak thy names out into existence.

“Well, good luck finding ‘real romance’ in the big age of 2024-” Areum snorts in amusement, taking a pause to sip on her mango strawberry lemonade. “I need whatever drugs you’re on that’s making you this delulu so I can fantasize about my knight and shining armor that’s never coming!”

God you hate that word. Delulu. Why are you suddenly “delusional” for wanting a picture perfect romance? It doesn’t need to be perfect per se, but you want to feel adored, swept off your feet and embraced like the true queen you are. Was that too much to ask? Considering the current state of dating in this day and age, it might just be.

“I mean, let’s face it girl. You literally don’t know the first thing about love ___, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows like in the K-dramas y’know! Haven’t you only had like one boyfriend in high school? You barely even dated that guy for a month-”

“That’s because he dumped me to go move to LA and become a dumb YouTuber!” You snapped back, cutting her off to get all the facts straight.

It was hard not to grimace while thinking of such old memories. Dating a Minecraft streamer definitely had to be one of the most embarrassingly cringe choices you’ve ever made.

“Whatever that’s beside the point. What I’m trying to get at here is you don’t have the best track record when it comes to men. Remember that other guy you were seeing before we graduated? I thought y’all would’ve dated for sure but he turned out to be a dickhole just like the rest of ‘em…” Areum shakes her head in disbelief, recalling all those times you’d call in a frenzied panic about things not working out.

“What was his name again? Min… Minwoo? No, that’s not it.. it was definitely Min something.” She attempts on remembering but keeps drawing a blank.

“Minho.” You answer almost instantaneously. His name still rolled off the tongue smooth as velvet.

It felt weird though. Saying it out loud after so many years of blocking it from your immediate vocabulary. A name you thought would never escape your lips again.

“Damn, you really still think about him don’t you?” She dares to ask, knowing how difficult it is for you to even talk about this anymore.

You only respond by nodding slowly, unable to bring yourself to look at her. It was far too intense; bearing the emotions of hurt and guilt from a past fling that meant more to you but nothing to the other. That’s how most of your tragic stories end— always too overly into them while they barely reciprocate any of that energy towards you. The thing is, you thought Minho actually liked you, even so far as wanting to date in the near future. Considering he brought you over his parent’s house (to hook up of course), and though you didn’t meet them you still think that meant something. Most men don’t just bring any woman they’re seeing to their parent’s place without somewhat thinking a potential relationship could happen down the line.

“So that’s why you should download Tinder and start swipin’ on some other cuties! It’ll at least distract you for a bit and get your mind off that asswipe,” Areum pitches her idea once more, “there’s plenty other fish in the sea ___. Not everyone online is some crazy serial killer, plus you clearly don’t seem to be having much luck out in the real world.”

You wanted to jump up from the table and erase that smirk from her face but instead you roll your eyes at that last remark. “I don’t need those shitty dating apps. I’m very capable of finding someone in real life for your information!” You quickly retort as a means to defend yourself. Even though she did have a point, her delivery could’ve been a little bit nicer.

It’s not easy being a hopeless romantic, you can’t help but yearn for that special someone to enter your life and change it for the better. You won’t feel wholly satisfied nor complete until you do. The sad reality of the matter was that you are still painfully single. No one’s interesting enough to cease your attention, let alone go on any actual dates. Areum’s had enough of your bitching and whining though, there’s only so many rants and tirades she can keep listening to about your vicious hatred for men before she loses it completely. Your nonexistent love life has become more of a nuisance as that time of year approaches— Valentine’s Day. A god forsaken holiday you’ve always loathed with a passion. Wanting nothing more than to be one of those girls on the receiving end getting flowers and chocolates. A day full of the utmost joy and pleasant surprises from your loving significant other.

Must be nice..

Speaking of surprises.. The buzzing in your ear echoes from your phone pinging loudly, indefinitely startling you. Grabbing it to check the sudden notification, your eyes go absurdly wide at the contact name displayed on your screen. Blinking numerous times from shock, you stare at your phone in incredulity; making sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

Lee Minho. The Lee Minho?

What kind of sorcery is being conjured where the instant you bring him up, he somehow texts you after all these years of not speaking? This coincidence was more than unsettling to you. A part of your inner thoughts still believes this is all some elaborate joke being played on you, waiting for a cameraman to pop out of some curtain to announce you’ve just been pranked. But nothing happens, life proceeds as normal. Now you’re left with the most puzzling notification you might’ve ever received.

It was your last year of college and the pressure of your academics along with appeasing your family was getting to you immensely. You needed an escape from all of it, desperately. Which you found through none other than Lee Minho, the boy who worked as a barista at Cozmo’s; this coffee shop you used to frequent a lot. It was a cute, small family-owned establishment and they made the best matcha lattes— in your humble opinion. You’d pick one up almost every day along with a slice of freshly baked cinnamon bread. It started off as only playful banter with him in the beginning, then it lead to more as time went on. One day, as you reached out to pay he blocked your hand from moving any closer, letting you freely walk away without spending a dime. This soon became a regular occurrence, as you’d start seeing Minho outside of work, getting to know more and more about him. You remember so desperately wanting to date back then, pitying your past self for thinking there was even a chance.

‘Maybe he’s just texted the wrong person’ you psyche yourself into thinking, but when you unlock your phone to finally read the message — an uncomfortable lump forms in the pit of your throat.

Minho 🐈:

Hey is this still ___’s number?

You honestly don’t know why you still have his number saved, let alone allowing a whole emoji to be next to it. Though it never was like you to delete anything, no matter how painful it may have been. More lingering questions makes you want to seek out the possible solutions. Why would he text you of all people ? None of this adds up in your mind realistically. Furrowing your brows in concentration, you think of what to say as you draft out a response.

Yes… who’s this?

After a tedious struggle of typing out multiple paragraphs and immediately deleting them, you went over your words a few more times before sending a final reply. It would’ve been strange had you knew exactly who he was off the bat, that’ll just be dead giveaway you still had his contact info saved this whole time. But with that logic, doesn’t that make Minho just as odd for still keeping your number after all this time has passed?

Your phone dings again.

Minho 🐈:

Srsly -_-

Did you really delete my number??

Bet he didn’t see that one coming. He probably thought the moment he texts you, you were gonna kiss up to him like you’ve always done in the past. Mentally giggling to yourself at the image of him getting flustered by you not knowing who he was at first. Feels good to know you knocked his confidence down a peg.

Lol, chillax.. I know it’s you Minho :P

Not even a minute later, a flood of incoming messages appear. Biting your lip out of nervousness, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast— anxiously checking your phone as the atmosphere around you suddenly gets stuffier.

Minho 🐈:

Better be lucky I didn’t block you after that ㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋㅋ

Guess who’s back in the city btw. Did ya miss me? ;)

No need to answer that, I already know you did. You should stop by at Cozmo’s again sometime!

Also what’re you up to this week? I need you to clear out all your plans because I’m taking you out on a date.

You always knew Minho was the bold type but this was on another level. The sheer audacity he has to even ask something like this after not reaching out for almost 3 years was more than ballsy on his part. It felt like a surge of butterflies erupting in your stomach, getting lightheaded as you think about seeing him again. He really had an effect on you like no other.

Glancing up from your screen to finally pay attention to Areum again, you assure her everything’s going to be just fine. “Looks like I won’t be needing to download Tinder after all.”

Later on that day you ended up going to Cozmo’s and meeting up with Minho. It never really took much convincing from him to get you to budge, though it was a hell of a lot worse back then. You used to blindly follow along with anything he said just to seek his approval, hoping that eventually he’ll see you as the girl he wants to settle down with. Alas, nothing ever blossomed into something more, and you knew deep down that this was headed nowhere— but that still didn’t stop you from fantasizing about a future with him. Getting lost into deep thought, head heavy in the clouds as you imagine the idea of Minho confessing his undying love for you. You’ll be so caught off guard as he gets down on one knee, looking at you with the entire solar system in eyes while he proposes in the most charming way. It really is pitiful how much you still daydream about a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but would constantly act like he was, then up and leaves without mentioning a single word about it.

You convinced yourself he ran off with someone else to have a better life with, even hearing through town gossip that he’s moved to South Korea to pursue becoming an idol. Whatever the case may be it still weighed heavily on your mind that he never bothered to tell you anything, even a simple ‘goodbye’ would’ve sufficed the empty hole in your heart. The main reason you agreed on meeting up with Minho was to finally ask, why? Why did he pretend to like you? Why did he act like your boyfriend when he never had intentions on seriously dating? Why was he so good at making you fall so hard for him..?

“You look great.” You subconsciously blurt out, affixed in a daze as you stare in awe at the man in front of you.

It’s been a while since you came here— never able to fully bring yourself to try and go back. Though you knew this place first, and they really did have the best Mactha lattes in the universe. It reminded you too much of him and you sadly had to let it go.

You weren’t proud of it but you did go home quickly to change clothes and redo your makeup. Usually you wouldn’t care but this was the only guy you’ve been consistently crushing on for years, you had to feel good inside and out. Minho was just as gorgeous as you remembered, if not he looked even more ethereal — which seemed impossible in itself already. He’s grown up so beautifully, his facial features became more sharp, especially his jawline which looks so defined and sculpted by the Gods.

Minho lightly chuckles at your timidness, some things just never change. “You look way better.” His lips drew into a faint smirk as he admires your presence.

He meant every word of what he said, you looked really good, and it was making him even more frustrated that so much time has passed. Regretting the way he handled things so many years ago, wishing he could take it all back and do everything differently. Seeing you again made it easier for Minho to suppress the guilt he’s borne for so long. This moment feels like a second chance to make amends for his past mistakes.

You couldn’t help but blush when you hear his compliment, feeling your ears grow hot as you look at the ground. There was a silent pause between you that lasted for what seemed like ages. Weirdly enough the conversation flowed well after he finally broke the awkwardness, the chemistry was overall still there and were able to pick up right where it left off.

“I’m so glad you came ___, I’ve been dying to see you since I got here. I’m surprised you even still responded to my lame ass.”

Minho’s light confession puzzles you. If he really was dying to see you, why’d he wait so long to get in contact with you? To be fair, you don’t know the exact time he came back.

“Oh, is that so? When’d you come back? Also show me pics of Korea, I’ve always wanted to know what it’s like there.” You fondly inquire, leaning against the side of the wall as he’s still behind the counter. He mentioned to you he’s only working part time because his parents would rather mooch off their son for free labor than to hire and pay a new employee.

“Yesterday,” he quickly states before taking out his phone to scroll through his gallery, “guess my sister must’ve told you I went there huh?”

You shook your head, “Nah, I haven’t talked to Elle in a while. She’s tried hitting me up a few times though.. but I found out through Areum ‘cause she was seeing Hoseok back then.”

They were definitely “seeing” each other alright, but mostly in the bedroom. Areum didn’t want anything exclusive with Hoseok and neither did he, it was the perfect friends with benefits situation. Minho and Hoseok were good friends who’ve known each other for a while, so naturally he’d tell Areum everything and overshare at some point.

“Agh, there’s a customer gotta take this. One sec, sorry!” He briefly apologizes before bringing his attention to the new person heading inside. You nod, signaling he’s good to go. “I’ll be waiting over there,” you point to a small wooden table with 2 chairs in a corner.

Once Minho comes back you notice he’s no longer wearing his purple work apron; back in his regular attire now and sporting an oversized dark grey hoodie that was three times too big. He was holding a large cup with green liquid and a paper bag in his hand, that’s when it clicks for you— he still remembers your favorite meal.

He’s grinning the whole time he’s handing you the matcha latte and cinnamon pastry, smiling from ear to ear like a kid on Christmas Day. This was the most you’ve seen him be so enthusiastic about something, even back when you were “with” him you can’t recall him beaming with such energy like this.

“Awh, thank you. I haven’t had either one of these in years!” You wanted to give him the biggest hug but you refrained from doing so, feeling as though it may be too early for that.

“Of course dear, anything for you.”

Why does everything he says have to make you melt from the inside out? It’s not fair! >:(

Glancing down at your yummy beverage, you see a message written on the side of the glass with bold permanent sharpie. Tilting your head to read it, the words are bit jumbled together but you get the gist. You’re almost left speechless after it reads: ‘___, Will you be my valentine?’

Your most dreaded and least favorite holiday is here, yippee! But, there’s a twist on this year’s turn of events; you actually have someone to celebrate this wretched tradition with. You should be excited but all you’re feeling is the sudden urge to vomit as you were nervous out of your mind. This was kind of weird to you, going on a date with your ex boyfriend who was never even your real boyfriend. Looking back on it now you shouldn’t have tolerated a relationship dynamic like that, Minho was clearly taking advantage of your passiveness by not explicitly saying what he wanted. On the contrary, you had no one to blame but yourself, you never spoke up or criticized anything even if it didn’t coincide with your personal morals.

The fact he never took you on an actual date until now speaks volumes, you obviously didn’t have enough self worth back to demand better treatment. It took you years of figuring out what a real, healthy relationship is supposed to be like through trials of therapy and that was an emotional rollercoaster in itself. All your uncertainties soon faded away once you became more secure and knew exactly what you wanted for yourself. It took every ounce of patience and acceptance to unlearn all your bad coping mechanisms and other toxic behaviors that were only stunting your inner growth. You’re happy to be in a position now where you’re able to express wholeheartedly what you deserve, it’s the best feeling ever to feel like you’re in control of your own life.

You spent almost 3 hours getting ready and your bedroom now looked like a war zone. The outfit you chose was super girly, a frilly white dress with pink platform heels— Minho’s going to drool in amazement when he sees you. When you sent Areum photos of you before heading out, she responds right way with a series of hearts and other sweet comments— hyping you up to no end like the best friend she is. She’s also able to help pull you out of your doubtful headspace, when you felt unsure if you could really go through with this she quickly psyched you out of it. Reminding you exactly who you are and why you are the prize, not him. ‘He should be the one who’s nervous, not the other way around’ you assure yourself over and over as a mini ego boost.

His jaw dropped when he spotted you walking up to his car, infatuated by how pretty and perfect you looked in every way possible. It angers him so much to know he took all this for granted, he didn’t appreciate all of you the way he should’ve but now he gets another chance to redo everything and right his wrongs. It’s a lot of pressure but he bravely accepts it, he could never mess up another opportunity like this again. The car ride was fairly silent in the beginning, you were vibing in peace as the only thing you could hear was Minho’s soft indie playlist as background music.

You ultimately chose to be the one to speak first, breaking the ice with a simple inquiry about the date. “So where are we going?” Looking out at the scenery from the window, all you is trees and more trees. If it’s something to do with nature you surely don’t want any parts of it, you’ve never been too fond of the wilderness.

“It’s a surprise, I can’t tell you.” He keeps a tight seal on today’s destination without dropping a single hint, forcing you to go completely blind into this. As he goes back to focus on the road, you sigh anxiously after hearing him refuse to disclose anything.

Did he seriously forget what kind of person you are? Anyone who’s close to you at all knows you’ve never been into those types of things. Ever.

“You know I hate surprises Minho,” you remind him, attempting to pry for more information. Even shooting him a doe eyed look along with poking out your bottom lip, but he doesn’t falter.

He simply nods, “I know but you’ll like this one, just have a little bit of faith me.” Flashing an innocent smile at you, he seems to be overly confident in whatever his plan consists of.

After almost half an hour passes the car finally comes to a stop, you scan the area and instantly notice a sense of familiarity among the place. Across from you was an ice cream parlor you thought didn’t exist anymore. But there it is, still standing with dozens of customers waiting in line. The small shop was famously known for its fish-shaped ice cream cones, you’ve always wanted to visit the place and try it when you were a little from seeing it on TV all the time. When you told Minho about it, you said how your parents would say it was too far but it actually closed down and they didn’t know how to tell you. From time to time you’d still think about that place, but you would’ve never thought they relocated. Being here with Minho brings an indescribable amount of happiness to your spirit.

“I mentioned this place like one time in passing, how’d you even remember?” You wonder in amazement, after all these years he still remembers something as minuscule as this.

“It may not have seemed like it but I paid attention to every little detail you told me ___, all it. Of course I know you don’t like surprises but how else would I have been able to take you here?” He sweetly expresses to you, not wanting to hold back anymore.

You wanted to cry right here, right now. All your emotions came crashing down at once and it’s hard to keep them concealed. A lot has changed within these years, things feel so different with him now, especially with how much he’s matured. You notice how he doesn’t act like the typical fuckboy in his early 20’s anymore, he’s much more interested in getting to know only person — that being you.

“I’ve rehearsed this in my head like a million times and I don’t think I’ll ever say it the right way I want but it’s time I start being as transparent as possible with you…” Minho takes a deep breath before continuing, “I’ve always liked you ___, from the start actually,” he keeps going, “I was just scared, of what I don’t know.. Commitment maybe?”

Slightly looking in another direction, your vision faintly blurs from tears welling up, “I- I honestly don’t know what to say..”

“Then don’t say anything at all, I don’t need you to. I may not know the first thing about how to love someone, but I want to learn all of it with you.” He feels all the remorse of leaving you alone for all these years, unable to process the pain you must’ve endured at him not getting into contact with you. “I’m so sorry ___. For everything, I’m going to make it all better I promise.”

Your eyes subconsciously flutter shut when he comes in contact with you. Connecting in perfect symmetry with your lips to sync together in motion. His gentle hands cupped your face delicately; his touch was so warm and inviting. Your fingers were deeply tangled in his brunette locks, relishing every minute as he tilts his head to capture more of you. He genuinely couldn’t believe he went this long without kissing these luscious lips again. His tongue grazed the bottom of your lip to subtly ask for entry and you comply. Dopamine floods both your senses like a series of fireworks going off, feeling intoxicated by each other’s taste. It was probably that vanilla bean chapstick you always wore— an old favorite of his and is still your go-to flavor of choice. He wanted to savor you in this moment for as long as he could, cherish the fact he has you in his hold again.

“Want to know something funny?” He asks out of nowhere, still smirking from that heated kiss that just happened seconds ago.

“Hm?”

“You’re the reason I ended up coming back here.” Minho states bluntly, no hesitation detected in his voice whatsoever.

You struggle to comprehend anything, overwhelmed by all his sudden confessions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I never want to leave your side ever again ___. I’m staying here with you, I already made the biggest mistake of losing you once I can’t let the same thing happen twice.” He spoke tenderly from the bottom of his heart, it felt so genuine you couldn’t not believe him.

Going back to rewind time isn’t possible, but “do-over’s” are, and sometimes we’re able to get those second chances to make things right when we get them wrong the first time.

[End <3].

[reidrum]

good night moon | s.r

A/N: hi again ! this one is deeply self indulgent i fear but who cares i hope you like it as much as i do <3 ps let me know what kinda fics i should write next !!

cw: spencer reid x bau!reader, cm type violence, reader is afab but this only is referred to when mentioning reader is a daughter, sad thoughts, hurt/comfort, talks about nightmares, spencer just wants to take care you gdm it why won’t you let him

wc: 2.4k

_______________________________________________

trudging up the stairs of the bullpen, you tried your best to use whatever sense you had left to beeline to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. thank god the bau had minimal reflective surfaces because you’re sure you look like the evil old lady from snow white. that was just, your opinion of course. to everyone else you looked fine.

fine was so subjective. what did these fuckers know about being fine? they weren’t the ones on the mission. they don’t know what you saw, how you did nothing, how you couldn’t do anything.

“FBI hands up!” you yell holding your gun and flashlight at the unsub. he’s holding the victim at knifepoint, a twelve year old girl who reminded you too much of yourself.

this unsub’s MO was kidnapping eldest daughters of families that had sons as well, because he believed the son should be the eldest child with the most responsibility and that the daughters were only there to create more babies. the team had deduced that he was the youngest child to an older sister who he felt had too much control over him, combined with his fascination with the perfect nuclear family, it slowly turned him into a sociopathic killer.

“come any closer and i’ll slit her throat!” the unsub bellowed, getting dangerously close to her carotid artery.

“you don’t wanna do that, man,” derek says behind you, “just put the knife down and we can talk.”

“there’s nothing left to talk anymore! i’m already going to prison. there’s no point.”

you called out the unsub’s name, “i know how you’re feeling, i have a younger brother too and he feels the same way you do sometimes. what your sister did to you was not okay, but not all sisters are like that. we just want to care for our family. let them have the chance to be the big sister you wished for.”

the unsub seemed to contemplate your words for a minute, then looks up at you with eyes devoid of any light, “then this one is dedicated to you, agent.” and he drags the knife across her neck leaving waterfalls of blood coming out.

you’re not really sure what happened next. a gun went off, presumably derek’s, to kill the unsub. and then it was you screaming as you rushed to the young girl to try and stop her bleeding, but it was no use. the cut was deep enough to nick that damn carotid and all you could do was hold her in her last moments.

“te- tell my family i love them, and that i’m sorry.” the young girl spurts out so softly you almost didn’t hear it.

“no sweet girl, don’t be sorry,” you say through hiccuped cries, “i’m sorry i couldn’t save you.”

the last thing you remember was feeling strong hands carrying you out of the building. you couldn’t hear much, the sound of your wails pretty much masked anything in a five mile radius. you could taste the iron lingering in your mouth from biting your lip too hard and desperately collecting the salty tears and sweat trickling down your face. at first you smelled smoke and dust, most likely from being in the cave where the unsub was. but as you were being dragged away from the crime scene you were influxxed with a musky scent, and a hint of vanilla with that fresh laundry smell. spencer. the last thing you see are his worried little brown eyes staring down at you before everything goes dark.

that was monday. it is now thursday. the case had wrapped up, the unsub was dead the families were notified and now you all were in the office doing your paperwork for the case.

and all of you were doing fine, right? everyone else had already coped and processed the case, already stepping back into their normal life routines. but you, you couldn’t have it that easy, but god you wish you did.

since that day, you’d been holing up in your apartment with all the lights turned on. you sat in your living room, eating a bowl of fruit loops and watching bluey, because listen it’s a great show and we should acknowledge it. you cry out loud seeing bluey care for her little sister bingo, and it brings you back to that dusty cave and the bloodied hands.

you could feel sleep creeping up on you, yet you subconsciously found a way to push bedtime by doing menial tasks like cleaning, extra long skincare, watching a movie. when you ran out of things to do, you entered your room and just stared at your bed. how were you supposed to admit to yourself that the horror isn’t in the movie you just watched where the creepy demons kill everyone, but it’s what is waiting for you behind closed eyelids.

so the only logical solution was to just, not sleep. you whipped out every trick in the book to stay awake for as long as you could— energy drinks, coffee, splashing cold water, anything so you wouldn’t have to reface your plagued memories.

spencer observed you from a distance. he watched as you got coffee a whopping three times before 10am, you picking at your skin, not to mention the bags growing under your eyes. it was then he formed a hypothesis, he was a scientist after all. that you simply were not sleeping because of the case. it was much less a hypothesis and more of a fact because he knew exactly what it was upon first sight of you, hell he invented the sleep avoidance look.

and as the inventor it meant he knew the feeling more intimately than he would like to admit. spencer knew what it felt like to be debilitated by the confines of your brain, holding onto shreds of memories you know are not worth remembering but have somehow marked their territory anyway. and everyone coped differently, for spencer he isolated himself for days and then threw himself into work. for you? well, that was the next part of spencer’s experiment.

spencer approaches you in the kitchen as you’re pouring your fourth cup before noon, “hi.”

“hi.”

“how are you? feels like we haven’t talked in a bit.”

“i’m good, sorry i’ve just been. busy.”

spencer frowned internally, he knew you weren’t doing a single thing but working at the office. “are you okay? do you want to talk about last week?”

you cut him off abruptly and start walking out, “i really have to finish these reports spence, talk to you later.”

spencer knew better, he should give you space to cope by yourself. you were an adult, you can take care of yourself. but you shouldn’t have to, he thinks. spencer still tells himself he knows better as he’s waiting on your doorstep that night, about to the rapp the door.

after a minute of no answer he knocks again this time calling your name through the door, “will you let me in please? i want to show you something.”

still nothing. he continues, “i know what you’re feeling, and i want to help, please.”

he almost gives up and turns around when he hears the turn of a lock and slight creek of the door opening to see you in all your beautiful glory.

now you, you were definitely a sight for sore eyes. avengers pj shorts with a baggy uni t shirt, hair flying in any direction, and a look that spencer could only describe as grief. but god if you weren’t the most beautiful human he’d seen in his life, he’d be lying.

you were coming up on day 3? or was it 4? of no sleep. it’s not like you were not sleeping at all you took little 30 minute naps each day, enough to get you some shut eye but not enough to make it your rem stage of sleep.

spencer speaks again, “can i come in?” you nod silently and open the door wider for him to step in. he removes his shoes and it’s then you notice a big ole tote bag he’s lugging to your living room.

“what’s in the bag?”

“ah, come sit. i brought magical things.” he smiles playfully.

you shuffle over to sit a seat’s cushion away from him and watch as he starts pulling item by item from his mary poppins bag.

candles, essential oils, books, but specifically romance novels with the silly cartoon covers that he swears aren’t real books but you argue with him until he concedes, melatonin gummies, pillow sleep spray, and one more item that he’s holding onto for what seems to be dramatic effect. you’re not amused.

“and the piece de resistance,” he presents the last item, and you look confused for a second, until you recognize the item in front of you and immediately start tearing up. in his hands is a grogu weighted stuffed animal that he holds out for you to take. “i know you’re not sleeping. it happened to me when, you know. i figured it would be helpful if you had someone who could empathize how you’re feeling. and because you’re my best friend and i care about you.”

your bottom lip trembles, and you feel the ice block you’ve kept yourself in this past week start to melt uncontrollably. “spence…” you breathe out so quietly. he did all this? for you? doctor spencer reid went out to the store, and bought a grogu stuffed animal for you to cuddle at night to ease your loneliness?

the concept of being taken care of was so foreign to you, as the eldest daughter in your family it was always you taking care of others and making sure everyone was okay. but rarely did anyone check on you, how you were holding up. and you had learned to cope by yourself, to handle the big emotions by yourself, but for once, someone was willing to take all that weight off your shoulders and let you breathe. and god, did it feel so cathartic you could burst out in sobs.

so you did.

“hey,” he says scooting closer to you so he can scoop you into his chest, “was that a lot? penelope said i’d probably overwhelm you but all of the things i brought are scientifically proven sleep additives-“

“no i just, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” you whimper.

spencer’s eyes soften, “you deserve it. what happened last week… was hard. i just wanted to help.”

“thank you,” he hears a muffled response and rubs his hands affectionately down your back, “damn, all this crying is making me so tired.”

“see! the magic of the poppins bag.” he chuckles. you laugh too. spencer thinks all the flowers in a mile radius just bloomed.

“it’s just,” you start out, nuzzling into his chest deeper, “the second i close my eyes and dream, i see her. and how i couldn’t save her. and how the others i couldn’t save either.” you feel your chest seizing up again.

“okay well hey, hey. you did what you were trained to do. any other agent in your position would’ve tried talking him down the way you did. and your personal story gave you an advantage that no one else would’ve had. statistically speaking, you were the best chance at getting through to him. yeah it didn’t work, but it wouldn’t be probability if it always worked,” he cradles your face in his big hands, “we’re all so proud of you, you know. rossi’s waiting for you to be back on your feet so he can host pasta night at his hou- sorry his mansion again.”

spencer looks down at you properly to your tear stained cheeks and brushes your hair back. he sees the pain and tiredness fighting behind your eyes and asks softly, “what do you need right now?”

“i’m tired.” you lament.

“then lets go sleep.”

“i can’t.”

“why not?”

“im scared.”

“well that’s why i brought the stuff silly goose,” he taps your nose, “come on, let’s go set it up.”

spencer brings all the sleep aids to your room and sets them up appropriately, even plugging in your sunrise lamp to help with the ambient lighting. the only thing left to do is for you to get into your bed.

you both stand on opposite sides of your bed, and he’s waiting for you to get in so can tuck you in. you hesitate and look up at him with the same worried eyes he saw all those days ago.

“could you stay for bit?”

“i can stay for some time if you want” you both speak at the same time. you giggle again, spencer thinks an angel got its wings.

thank god he wore sweats and a comfy t shirt he thinks. he slid in under the blanket and holds it open for you to come in, “come on, you’re missing the cuddle party with grogu and i!” you beam widely and finally sink into your bed.

spencer pulls you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your shoulder blade, and the other taking a spot on your hip rubbing soft circles. you lay your head to rest on his chest, right above his beating heart. you try to let the metronomic thumps lull you to sleep, but spencer can still feel your eyelashes fluttering about on his chest. he knows what you’re thinking, because of course he does.

“look at me,” he nudges you, you look up at his eyes again and see nothing but pure love and reassurance as he continues, “you are safe. nothing can hurt you. i promise.”

“are you sure?” you let out meekly,

“i’m sure. it’s okay, go to sleep,” he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your forehead. “i’ll be here when you wake up.”

you shakily take a deep breath, and close your eyes.

after five minutes of spencer rubbing shapes into your back, he can finally hear the soft snores coming from below. he places another kiss on your head, whispers, “good night angel girl,” and doses off.

you wake up the next morning feeling so rested and relieved you can’t help but give spencer a big hug that wakes him up. spencer thinks he’d be the luckiest man in the universe if he could wake up like this everyday.

[puppyplayhouse]

Cloud Nine

Pairing: Jeong Jaehyun + AFAB Reader (no pronouns used)

Warnings: Weed use, Shotgunning, Puppy reader, Soft Dom Jaehyun, fingering, messy kissing, praise, degradation, dirty talk, some tears, subtle overstim, consent checks, vaginal penetration, pet names, sub space, good ol' creampie, subtle spit kink.

Word count: 2004

Synopsis: Jaehyun loves to overwhelm his pretty puppy with everything they need and more.

Note: I only briefly proof read this but I hope y'all enjoy anyway!

Top Dog OUT!

"Look at me, baby."

Your head turns to look at him and he grips your jaw, softly kissing your lips before exhaling into your mouth, smoke filling your lungs as you sink deeper into a type of comfort only Jae could provide to you, smiling with unwavering adoration as you hold your breath for a few seconds before exhaling, a light fuzzy feeling settling over your body as your high grew steadily.

"Such a good puppy, hmm?"

He returns your smile, ruffling your hair before his hand moves down to your cheek, his thumb tapping your lips in silent command, meeting no resistance as it slips into your mouth and presses down on your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth and he's mesmerized, tilting his head a little as he wipes his hand on your cheek, tapping lightly as he takes another hit of the joint you had diligently rolled for him before he woke up.

He thinks you look prettiest like this. Your eyelids heavy as your mind goes blank, eagerly watching him in anticipation of any attention he would be so kind as to offer you. You were his favorite thing on earth.

"Hey!" He scolds you, watching as you nip at his thigh from where you kneel Infront of him, a brief flash of remorse skimming across your features before he feels your teeth scrape over the sensitive skin once again. The breathy moan you let out in response to his hand tugging at your hair, your head tilting back suddenly, is almost enough for him to instantly forget your wrong doing, but he knows what you want. He knows what you need.

"You know not to bite without asking."

He offers you an almost mocking pout before releasing your hair, the smoke of another hit filling the room.

"Can you go wait on the bed for me, puppy? Think you can behave for a few minutes?"

He can see you flipping through the options in your head, eventually choosing to hum your acceptance before you quietly stand, turning away from him and stretching before playfully wiggling your hips at him, your footsteps fading as you follow his requests.

"My little brat." He mumbles to himself, shaking his head as he finishes the joint and snuffs it in the ash tray on the table, taking his own time to stretch just to build the tension between you.

You're sitting patiently on the bed when he finally makes his way to you, eyes closed as your hips wiggle as if wagging a phantom tail. The anticipation of having him spoil you as he always did made you almost jittery with excitement, creating an internal battle as your body began to tingle, desperate to feel his hands all over your skin.

"You're being so good, baby. Come on, eyes open."

You pry them open, met with the heavenly sight of your boyfriends bare torso mere inches from your face, both of his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as a gentle kiss is pressed to your nose.

"What do you want, baby? Tell me what you want and i'll let you have it."

Verbalising your desires was a whole other challenge, but he knew exactly how to coax it out of you, his fingers slipping down to the sides of your neck, thumbs meeting in the middle of your throat as both hands wrapped around it. There was no pressure, however. Simply his own version of a makeshift collar to remind you exactly how much power he held over you.

"I just want you, Jae."

He shakes his head and you whine, earning a warning squeeze before one hand leaves your neck to grip your chin once again, forcing you to hold eye contact with him.

"Come on. I know you can do better. Don't you want me to take care of you?"

You can't say no, of course. You desperately want him to ease the ache that has settled between your thighs and spreads deep into your stomach. You breathe in deeply, humming as you think to yourself.

"I want your fingers, please."

He can't bear to push you to say more when your eyes are getting watery and there's a pout tugging at your lips. There's no need for him to respond really, not when he's shifting you back further into the bed, his body hovering over yours as he lays you down, his lips trailing sweet, wet kisses across your neck and shoulders where your shirt has slipped down.

"You want my fingers, pretty puppy?"

He can't help himself. He needs to see you squirm as his taunts settle into your otherwise empty mind.

"Bet you're so wet already huh? My bad puppy."

He sinks down between your thighs, pushing your shirt up as he pulls your shorts down, leaving soft kisses across your tummy that make you giggle thanks to the ticklish sensation.

A finger finds your clit, rubbing soft circles. Your already making a mess with the way you're dripping, your pussy begging for his attention.

"Oh, you're really something else aren't you? Look at this mess."

He slaps your thigh and you can hear the connection of his palm with your wet skin, a whine of embarrassment leaving lips despite the teeth digging into it.

He slides two fingers over your entrance, bringing them up to your lips and watching with admiration as you diligently suck at the digits, your eyes fluttering shut as you sink into the incredible feelings he provides you with.

"That's my baby." He whispers, his spit covered fingers wiping over your stomach as he kisses your lips gently at first, slowly intensifying it as his tongue teases into your mouth, two fingers of his other hand rubbing up and down between your slit, barely teasing your entrance even as your hips buck in an obvious attempt to gain more friction.

"Please, Jae." You whisper against his lips, your hands squeezing his toned arms.

"Shhhh. I know. It's okay."

He coos at you softly, pulling back just enough to see you gasp as he presses two fingers into your cunt, your walls gripping them, encouraging him to push further, your back arching up into him.

"That's it. That's my good puppy. Feels good, yeah? You like takin' my fingers, Angel?"

A breathless nod is the most you can manage, your body buzzing with pleasure that leaves you panting like an animal beneath him as he thrust his fingers slowly into you, perfectly finding your gspot. It was overwhelming to say the least, the weight of his body only amplifying every deliciously intense sensation.

"So fucking good for me. So good. You want more? Gonna let me get you ready for my cock?"

Your eyes are open in an instant, staring up into his own as if he'd just promised you something you'd never have again.

"Please! Please, I need it. I want it so fucking bad, Jae!"

He can't describe the specific kind of pride he's filled with when you beg for him, but it's something he cherishes and he's more than willing to give you as much as you can take.

A third finger prods at your entrance and he's careful as he stretches you out further, your pussy clenching in response as he massaged the spot inside you that had your stomach tightening, pushing you toward your first orgasm of the night.

"Want you to cum for me, okay? Cum on my fingers and I'll let you have my cock after."

The words barely even register to you, your thighs shaking as you squeeze harder at his arms, your nails biting into his skin causing him to hiss, though he never relents or falters in his efforts.

You're trembling beneath him, panting and gasping as your high hits, pussy pulsing around his fingers which tirelessly work you through your orgasm, not easing in the slightest even when you're pushing at his chest, the overstimulation setting in quickly.

"I'll stop if you want me to, baby. Just say the word."

His whispers in your ear cloud any train of thought you might have had and you don't want him to stop. You don't know what you want, but you trust him to figure it out for you.

Your arms have moved to wrap around his back, holding onto his shoulders for support as he continued toying with you for a few more minutes before his fingers left you, offering you a moment to catch your breath as he lapped your juices from them.

He's leaning a little higher now, more soft kisses covering your face as his thumb rubbed across your hip.

"You okay pup? You wanna stop?"

His voice is gentle, reassuring you that he would take care of you.

"I'm okay." Your smile is sleepy, but you still want more of him. "Please?"

He knows what you're asking for and is happy to deliver, kicking of his shorts before he settles back between your thighs, his palms flat on the underside of your thighs as he pushes them up toward your chest, not enough to sting but enough to offer him a clear view of his cock slowly sinking into you, the obscene sound of your wet cunt welcoming him causing his hips to stutter for just a moment before he's bottoming out, pausing for you to adjust as he always did.

He was always a little too thick for you at first and you were grateful for how considerate and gentle he was with you.

"Wish you could see how good you look baby." He sounds like he's in a trance, eyes flickering between your face and your pussy as he savored the sight of you. "Fuck, I can't even describe it."

His thrust are slow at first, one hand resting your thigh on his hip before he lets it go so that he can find your own hand and lock your fingers together, bringing it up to his mouth so that he can kiss each of your fingers. He waits for you to start fidgeting before he speeds up, helping you tilt your hips a little so that he can find the right angle to hit your spot.

"Jae! God, you feel so fucking good. Can't take it..."

Lips find yours briefly before he's nudging your nose with his in a tender display of affection, whispering as if someone might hear you.

"You can take it, baby. Doin' so good already. I know you can."

The overwhelm is building with every second, but it's everything you could want and more to feel his love and affection wrapping around you, overcoming every sense until the only thing you can feel, the only thing that matters, is him.

"I wanna cum, Jae. Please. Want you to cum with me!"

He's hushing you quietly, his hips picking up the pace as he chases his high, hands now gripping your waist as he desperately ruts into you.

He can't stop himself from letting go when he feels you tighten around him, your thighs squeezing his hips as you cum for him, your body melting into the mattress. It's the sight of you completely fucked out that has him cumming hard, burying himself deep into you. his hips continue grinding against you well after he's filled you completely.

He finally pulls out when you begin whining, your thighs aching from being held open for so long.

"You did so well baby. I'm so proud of you."

He keeps his voice to a whisper, shuffling off the bed to find baby wipes to clean you up with. Your shivers make his feel a tiny bit guilty and he finishes as quickly as he can, wrapping you in the covers and pressing his body close to you to keep you warm, chuckling when your hair tickles his neck where you nuzzle into him.

You don't need to speak, and he doesn't expect you to. Your blissful, sleepy smile is everything he could ever need.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch. 17

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Ch. Notes: Angst, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of death, mentions of child abuse, suggestive themes, nudity

Summary: The family has a meeting to discuss the events that happened in Dragos absence. The aftermath of that meeting forever changes the landscape of the business and the family.

An: The final chapter of the series! Oh my god, I honestly can't believe I hunkered down and finished it out 😳. Thanks for being patient with me. I'm sorry if things feel rushed or out of plac, but I hope you guys like the end 💜. Maybe I'll write a smut epilogue but no promises.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

In life there are no certainties. Nothing is exempt from the winds of change; whether it be drastic or subtle. Wants and needs shift as growth and understanding occurs. These changes are often difficult and perplexing for individuals to comprehend. How can one’s life purpose be evaporated in a simple instance? What has the power to make one question everything they thought they knew? The simple answer to these questions can be found in relationships. Nothing has the power to change a person more than other people.

For Wanda, all she had ever wanted was to carry her father’s legacy; to elevate what he created, to become everything that he needed her to be, the head of the family business. She trained her entire life for this, lost her youth for it, missed moments she’d forever regret for it. Taking on her father’s mantle was the driving point of everything she did. However, now, when her dream was closer to reality she was unsure if she could accomplish it.

She hadn’t fell out of love with the business. Her drive to be the best was still there. Everything she sacrificed was a stark reminder of how much she valued the family business. Yet, the decision was harder than it ever had been before. There was finally something in Wanda’s life that was equally important to her.

The relationship she had with you and Natasha evened out the scales tremendously. Seeing her wife stress about her well-being filled her head with guilt. Knowing about the scars that plagued you physically and mentally swayed her farther away from her dream.

As much as Wanda wanted to be in charge, she also wanted what was best for her relationship.

This was all hypothetical in her head. There was a chance that she wouldn't even be considered to fill her father’s shoes. The offer could be extended in your direction. Dragos had mentioned it upon Wanda’s return, how integral you were to the business. Though she didn’t doubt her father’s words, she greatly underestimated just how important you were.

You were truly the glue that held it all together. Your mind was equipped for this line of work. Even when confronted with hard decisions you always made the right choice. There was nothing that escaped your radar, and it had saved the business multiple times. The chances of the business thriving in Dragos absence without you were questionable. If you weren't around Wanda could've lost everything that they worked for.

You gave everything you had to offer; to not only the business but the family itself. All while being selfless. There were no lines that you wouldn't cross for them. Even if it meant putting yourself in danger. The only thing that was prohibiting you from leading was all of your insecurity.

You had never even considered the fact that the business could fall into your hands. Wanda believed that was part of what made you such a good leader. It all came so naturally to you that you hardly even noticed it yourself.

If you were to decide that you wanted to run the business, Wanda could not hold it against you. To Wanda, the sacrifices that you had made were greater than her own. You deserved to have this if you so desired.

A selfish part of the red head wanted you to turn away the offer if it was presented, but the rationale part kept her in check. Wanda was having trouble deciding what she would do herself, so who was she to make such demands?

Wanda already struggled with feeling selfish for dragging Natasha into this mess. Her wife had gotten shot because of her. From the beginning Natasha was here to support her. As things fell apart Natasha’s loyalty never wavered. The spy just wanted her wife to accomplish her dreams.

Be that as it may, Natasha’s personal experience working in dangerous fields her whole life gave her a better sense for these things. There was little that Wanda could do to quell the worry in the Russian as things unraveled. Natasha had seen this story unfold many times across many identities and she was afraid.

This had been Natasha’s life as far back as she could remember and at some point she became numb to it all. That numbness faded when she saw the adverse affect it had on you and Wanda. Natasha cared too much about the two of you to watch idly as this lifestyle consumed you.

Truly walking away from this sounded like a dream to her. Natasha was ready for all of the domestic aspects of life. However, if either one of you wanted this, she could never deny you. She knew when she married Wanda, that this was the younger woman’s dream. This in a sense was her wife’s life work, and she could never deny Wanda the pay off. With you, you were so young that she would understand wanting the opportunity to experience the true magnitude of being in such a powerful position.

It was a conundrum for all of you.

“Are we ready?” Wanda asks as she parks in front of her parent's house.

Natasha lets out a large sigh, “Whatever happens in there, I love you both, no matter the decision."

You give a small smile, but it’s clear that this is weighing heavily on your mind “I love you too.”

“I love you, let’s do this,” Wanda leaves the car first. Her nerves are apparent.

The tension in the air did not dissipate upon entering the home.

Flora greets the three warmly but holds onto you a little longer than the rest. She squeezes you tightly and whispers in your ear, “Thank you.”

You squeeze her back before letting her lead you all to the kitchen.

A large feast spans the entire length of the table. You can make out bits and pieces of the Maximoff's favorites. It smells heavenly and you’re certain it tastes even better, but your nerves stop you from diving in.

Dragos sits at the head of the table picking indifferently at his food. Pietro sits to his right, staring intently at the three of you. Wanda takes a seat across from her brother and you take your place next to her, while Natasha did the same next to you.

Your hand finds it’s way into the spy's needing the help to steady your nerves. For a long movement no one says anything.

“I brought everyone some water to help you with the talking,” Flora sits glasses in front of everyone before standing behind her husband. Her hand rests diligently on his shoulder. The gesture seemingly gives him the boost he needs to start the conversation.

“We have got a lot of things to address. So let's get started. The Kingpin problem has been taken care of. He won't be threatening this family anytime soon and it's all thank to Y/n.”

You shrink as the man mentions your name, “Thank you, Papa.”

“No, thank you Y/n. Without you not only would I have lost my business, but also my life. I owe you my life. I’m so proud of you, moya ditya,” he speaks again.

Wanda shifts in her spot. Her father skipped right over her own contribution while he was away.

“You owe me nothing of such magnitude Papa. You’ve saved my life just the same. I couldn't have done any of the work alone. Having Wanda, Pietro, and Natasha on my side made things easier,” You give everyone their props.

Dragos follows her lead, “Oh yes, thank you all for stepping up when I needed you to. Your efforts will be heavily compensated."

“ The only thing I want is for you to be honest with me. What happened with my mother?” Your eyes look directly into his.

Wanda’s hand finds your thigh to give you some comfort. Natasha squeezes your hand under the table.

“Well I want to know what’s going on between my sister, her wife, and you,” Pietro chimes in.

“Excuse me?” Wanda almost gets up, but you place your hand on top of hers.

“We can discuss that after the both of you tell me why my mother is dead and why I am the last to know.”

Pietro’s face shows a bit of irritation, but Dragos decided to interfere before things get worse between you two.

“The first night you stayed here, when we found about your abusive home, I knew I didn’t want that woman near you again. So, I had some guys steak out your home. They watched for a few days. It took 4 days before she started searching for you.”

You sat through the story bouncing your leg like crazy, but your upper half was still.

Dragos continues, “She didn’t start at the school but once she got there, she began hyper stalking you. Noting your classes, trying to track your way back here, and getting too close to you.”

“We were protecting you,” Pietro defends.

Dragos holds his hand up silencing his son, “ She found her way here one night. Pietro opened the door they had a heated exchange. It caused quite the commotion. Flora and I were awoken by the screaming.”

“Where was I?” You interject.

“Here, but we assumed that maybe you were used to the noise so it didn’t wake you,” Flora adds quickly.

“Your mother put hands on my son, something I was willing to look past. However, when she tried to do the same with my wife, my willingness dwindled swiftly,” Dragos eyes darken similar to the way Wanda’s often would.

“The way she demanded you as if you were nothing more than stolen property, like she was entitled to you. It was clear she only wanted you to have something that she could control Y/n, she deserved what she got,” Pietro speaks passionately.

“Enough,” Dragos speaks calmly with an edge in voice, warning his son yet again.

Your eyes were glossy as they bored into your best friend’s soul. His temper falters under your gaze. He squirms uncomfortably, but refused to look away.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your tone levels and as quickly as the tears began to form, they disappear.

“We-”

You shook your head, “No, since he has so much to say I want to hear it from him. Why didn’t you tell me Pietro? I trusted you with parts of me that I didn’t share with anyone else. You knew that even after the years passed, I still had emotions lingering surrounding my mother. I talked with you so many times and you comforted me, you held me as I cried. Yet the whole time you knew she was dead and said nothing. Why?”

The sorrow in your eyes was replaced by a flame of anger. Your jaw clenches thinking of the many opportunities he had to come clean, but never did. The feeling of betrayal crept into your veins the longer it was silent.

“Answer me,” your hand slams on the table startling everyone.

“I didn’t want to lose you, Y/n. I regret not telling you, but how could I? I wasn’t sorry, I’m still not sorry for what happened with that woman. How many times did you come to school battered? How many times were you exhausted from staying up out of fear that she would hurt you? She blamed you for the death of your brother, when you were only a child.”

You shake your head, “That’s not enough.”

“ What do you want me to say Y/n? I didn’t think you could handle it. You were slowly recovering from the damage that she caused and telling you she was dead would’ve done more harm than good,” the blonde man grew exasperated.

You scoff, “I understand why you didn’t tell me when I was younger, but that was how many years ago Piet? I’ve grown, I changed, I matured and you never once considered telling me.”

He looks down unwilling to meet your eyes. The shame finally settling across his features.

“I just felt like too much time had passed,” he mumbles.

“We all kept this from you. It wasn't just him, “ Dragos tries to lessen the pressure on his son.

Your eyes cut over to older man, “I’m aware. I’m not happy with the dishonesty on any part of equation. It irks me that I had to hear it from Fisk. If he wouldn’t have said anything, I would still be in the dark.”

“Wanda would’ve probably told you,” Pietro says under his breath.

You stand up with little regard for the table in front of you. Wanda and Natasha watch carefully, but don’t make the move to stand yet. Your hands grip the edge of the table and you can feel your body pulse as you look at the man.

“I didn’t want to hear it from Wanda, you fucking idiot. I wanted to hear it from my best friend. I wanted the guy that I told everything to afford me that same respect in return,” each word carries more hurt than the last.

“Everything except for you being in love with my sister,” he rebuttals.

You frown, “In what world is me being in love with Wanda on the same level as you hiding the fact that my mother is dead?”

That silences him.

“Maybe we should move on?” Dragos suggest, but you decline.

No, he is in the wrong. You all are in the wrong and there’s only one person who has apologized to me. I’m not moving on until, I’ve at least heard an attempt at an apology,” you stand your ground.

Dragos nods and gestures to your seat. You slowly sit down. You feel the sincerity as his eyes find yours, “Malyshka, I’m sorry for keeping this from you. It was never my intention to cause you any more grief in life. There was no excuse to keep this from you so long. Please forgive me.”

The apology from Dragos seems to trigger something in Pietro. The defensive nature of his posture drops. You knew the man didn't want to admit he was wrong. He wanted to validate his deceit under the guise of protection.

“Y/n, I- I’m sorry for letting you down. I was just doing what I thought was right, but I never considered how that would affect you. I should've been honest with you.”

You look at the two men, taking their words at face value, “Thank you.”

Dragos clasps his hands together, “ Alright, next on the agenda. I think before we get to what I had planned here, that we should talk about you three.”

Wanda speaks first, “What is there to talk about?”

Dragos can’t help but roll his eyes, “Well a moment ago it was mentioned that Y/n is in love with you.”

“Is that a problem?” Wanda’s defensiveness is akin to her brother’s.

“No, but you are married to another woman. Look moya ditya, I do not wish to be involved in your love life, but this is… a lot to digest. First you come home with a wife and now this,” Dragos speaks cautiously.

Wanda runs a hand through her hair, “I know, I’m sorry for snapping. I have no plans of leaving my wife, but I also have no plans of leaving Y/n.”

Natasha adds, “We have something unique, but it’s just as special as any other relationship. I care for both of them deeply.”

“I didn’t want to like Y/n. She was my little brother’s best friend, our age gap alone made me hesitant to explore those feelings. I didn’t want to be another person in her life to take advantage of her. I had known before I left that I had some kind of feelings for her, but I didn’t want to tell her that. I didn’t know how long I was going to be gone and she was 21, with a bright future ahead of her.”

“We had all seen something between you two, which is why I was shocked to see you come back with a wife,” Flora admits.

Wanda takes a look at her wife, “Natasha is the only reason I’m here with you now. I would not have survived those years without her. I love her and I’m sure of it.”

“And you’re ok with this?” Dragos questions Natasha.

“When I came here, I saw right through Wanda. I knew about her feelings, but as I began to spend time with Y/n I understood more. Y/n is special, I’ve never met anyone like her. So driven, so compassionate, strong-minded, empathetic. Loving her was just too easy not to do. We talked about it, it was difficult to get Wanda to open up, but once she did, we decided what to do together. It only made sense to see if Y/n was interested in us."

“And you Y/n?” Flora presses.

“I’ve always had issues feeling safe because of the way that I was raised. For a long time there was never a day I went without looking over my shoulder. Even after becoming part of this family. The only time I feel safe is when I’m with Wanda and Natasha. I can let my guard down and be vulnerable without being afraid. They’ve shown me that I don’t have to choose between being strong and being open.”

“You’re all consenting adults, and I can tell that you all care for each other. So I won’t question it any further,” Dragos supports the three of you with a nod.

“If you hurt my best friend, I will never forgive you,” Pietro glares at Wanda.

“Hey what if she hurts me?”

Pietro glances at you briefly, “She wouldn’t.”

“Last thing everyone,” Dragos takes a deep breath and looks around the table. He struggles to find the words, his wife’s hand squeezes his own

You all sit up straighter in anticipation. This was the moment that you all feared to some extent.

“Kids, I’m getting old. This whole situation has shown me that I’m not immortal. I almost lost my life more than once and I’m only here now because of this family. When we moved to this city and I decided to pursue this type of work, I knew a day like this would come. A day where I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own anymore. It has snuck up on me.”

“Papa what are you saying?” Pietro asks for clarification.

“I'm saying that it’s time that I picked a successor. I’ve thought about this for a long time now. This is not a decision I’m making in haste,” he speaks as though he had rehearsed this many times.

“ This business means a lot to him, to our family,” Flora says while comforting her husband.

“ Wanda, I want you to run the family business,” Dragos says.

Wanda sputters, “ Papa I-"

“ And I want you to do it with Y/n,” he finishes.

“You want-"

He nods, “I want the both of you to head the family business. If I’ve learned anything while running this place it’s that it is a lot for one person to do. So I thought the easiest way to combat that is by having 2 people in charge. There's no one I trust as much as the two of you. When I was in my coma the two of you were each briefly in charge, but imagine how it would be if you truly worked together on this.”

You and Wanda exchange a look and the older woman speaks, “Papa we’re flattered, honored really, but do you think we can have a moment to discuss amongst ourselves.”

The grin on his face says it all, “Of course, go chat in your old room and come back whenever you're ready.”

Wanda, Natasha, and yourself calmly walk upstairs. You all make yourselves comfortable on Wanda’s bed before anyone spoke.

“ We didn't plan for this,” you open the floor.

“I know,” Wanda says.

Natasha sighs, “So what’re you guys going to do? “

“I don’t know,” Wanda answers truthfully.

“Y/n?”

You speak softly, “I didn't know that this could be an option. I’m not going to lie, the prospect of doing it together seems more appealing, but I know we talked about leaving this life behind.”

“Is that what you want?” Natasha questions.

“I just want to do whatever it's going to keep us together,” you say truthfully.

Natasha relents, “I can tell this something you both really want.”

“ Natasha-”

“Let me finish baby, I’m never going to get in the way of your dreams. I’m not going to ask either of you to pick between our relationship and this opportunity. As for myself, I will be honest; I’m older than both you and I’ve had my fill of being in the line of fire,” Natasha explains.

“I don’t want to do this without you, Natalia,” Wanda keeps her tone gentle.

“You won’t be doing it without me. You have my full support and if I can be of any use without herring my hands dirty, I’d like that,” Natasha’s hand cups her wife’s face.

“Nat I'm willing to turn it down,” you say watching their exchange.

“Lisichka I’m not asking you to turn it down. You want this Y/n, and you deserve it. I would never take this from you. I’m proud of both of you,” she places a gentle kiss on your forehead, and does the same to Wanda.

You turn your attention to Wanda, “You want to do this with me?”

“I want nothing more,” she reaches for your hand.

You stand up and extend it to her; she did the same for Natasha.

“Let’s go start a new chapter together.”

And start a new chapter you did. Dragos retired leaving the family business in your capable hands.

Things ran a bit differently under the leadership of you and Wanda. Neither of you were willing to sacrifice certain aspects of domesticity that you dreamed of. So, it was your idea to work towards legitimizing the company that was used as a cover.

The more the company became reputable the more stock you could invest in it. There wasn’t a way completely remove yourselves from criminal activity, but Wanda worked to refine the illegal activities you were involved in.

She wanted to minimize the need for violence amongst the city. While the business still focused on trading goods, Wanda made sure to keep the distribution of those goods in mind. Wanda chose that certain supplies would go into the communities that needed them most. She began to open resources for food, clothing, and medication as a way to give back to the city.

There were still some who sought to claim power and rebel against your family, but they were not only outnumbered but outsmarted at every turn.

Eventually those long overworking hours turned into normal 9 to 5 shifts leaving you with ample time to enjoy the company of those you cared for.

“ What are you making?”

You mumble against the skin of Natasha’s neck as your arms snake around the waist of the former spy.

“Pancakes. No work today, Lisichka?”

You place a light kiss on her neck, “Nope, I’m going to be home the next few days, Wanda too.”

“She’s in the gym, if you’re wondering,” Natasha answers the question on your mind.

“In home gym was a good call wasn’t it?” Your eyes stay closed as you speak.

It wasn’t too long after you and Wanda decided to take charge of the family business, that you all decided to finally move in together. With your connections and high budget, you moved into what you could only describe as your dream home.

“Perfect call pretty girl.”

You feel your face heat at the flattery, “It’s too early to be this flirty.”

“You’re the one who came in here kissing my neck,” she rebuttals.

You whine, “Can’t help it, your skins so soft Natty.”

You trail kisses from her neck to her shoulder and back again. You continue the trail all the way up to her cheek, using your hand slightly to turn her head, before pecking her lips. She doesn’t let you slip away that easy, turning around so her hands find themselves locked around your neck. She deepens the kiss and you begin to melt.

“You’re going to burn the pancakes,” you mumble against her lips.

“I can make more,” she replies causing you to chuckle.

You pull away from her, “This will be continued later, promise.”

She pouts, but turns her attention back to the stove, “Go tell Wanda breakfast is almost ready. No funny business without me.”

You give her a salute, “Yes chef! I can promise only a little funny business chef!.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, but you put your hands up defensively.

“Don’t tell me that you can control yourself around your wife when she’s all worked up from her routine.”

It’s Natasha’s turn to chuckle, “Touché.”

You try your best to enter the gym quietly, hoping to catch a glimpse of the woman in action. Your mouth begins to salivate at the sight of Wanda in her workout gear. Her breathing is labored and her muscles are bulging as she deadlifts a weight.

“I have to be the luckiest person alive to get to see you like this,��� you let your presence be known.

Wanda sits the weight down gingerly, before glancing over at you, “Good morning, baby.”

“Good morning indeed,” you say shamelessly checking her out.

“Like what you see?” She bend down taking a swig of her water.

“Oh I’m utterly in love with the view at this point I can't think of anything that could make it better,” you approach her.

“No?” Wanda stands up straight so that she can be more level with you.

“Nope,” you pop the ‘p'.

Wanda gets into your personal space, lips ghosting your ear, “I can think of a couple improvements.”

If Natasha wasn’t waiting in the kitchen, you knew you’d take Wanda right there in the gym, “You drive me crazy in the best ways.”

She pulls back quickly and giggles at how flustered you are, “I think its somewhere in the job description.”

You lightly shove her shoulder, “Whatever, Nat’s got breakfast ready if you want to shower real quick and join us.”

Wanda smirks, “Care to join me in the shower?”

“I promised no funny business,” you frown but that only causes the redhead to laugh.

“My poor baby, maybe the three of us can squeeze into an afternoon shower,” she teases you.

You were about to make a snarky reply, but Wanda shimmies out of her workout top leaving you speechless. Her tights soon follow as she turns her back to you. Slowly she walks her way to the gym shower making sure to put an extra sway in her hips.

“You’re so cruel,” you lick your lips as you watch her.

She turns around and sends you wink, “All good things come to those to wait little krolik.”

You huff and make your way back to the kitchen as a flustered mess.

“ How did it go?” Natasha asks.

Instead of answering her, you march over to her and hungrily kiss her before childishly plopping into your seat at the table.

“Your wife is a menace,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“I know it’s one of my favorite things about her, “ Natasha smiles as she sets everyone’s plate at the table.

Wanda is out of the shower by the time Natasha is done and setting the table. She takes a seat across from you waiting for Natasha before she starts eating.

Once everyone is seated you begin to eat. Light chatter fills the silence as you so speak casually. After everyone is done you gather up the dishes and quickly wash them.

“Any plans for your lazy days?” Natasha asks the crime lords.

“Just quality time malyshka,” Wanda responds.

“Yep, Pietro and Monica are going to be taking care of business for us,” you add.

Natasha grins, “So what I’m hearing is I have you both to myself?”

You nod your head, “Yes mam. Might I suggest we jump straight to desert now that breakfast is over”

Wanda tosses her head back with laughter, “So one track minded this morning, little krolik. I thought I might have to fight you off in the gym.”

“Right? She almost made me burn the pancakes,” Natasha agrees with Wanda.

You roll you eyes, “First of all, you left out the part where you took all your clothes off and strutted away from me. Second of all I was just greeting the love of my life while she made breakfast. I’m innocent here.”

“Are you really?”

You hum in response, “I’ve been told I can be pretty delicate.”

The two women share a look before closing in on you. As you stand between the two redheads; doe eyes meeting their dark ones, a tingle runs through your body.

“Then I guess we should be careful with you bunny, “Wanda’s hand squeezes your waist.

Natasha shakes her head, finger resting just under your chin, “I think we should test out how delicate she is. What do you have to say little fox?”

“This must be heaven.”

The women laugh at your words, Natasha is the one to speak, “You’re adorable sweetheart.”

“Yes very adorable, but if you keep me waiting any longer I’m probably going to die,” you look at the women desperately.

Wanda lays a playful smack on your ass, “ To the bedroom.”

You let out small chuckle and run in the direction of the room. Wanda and Natasha chase after you in a fit of giggles.

Life had become kind to you over the years. Affording you times of joy and gratitude that you struggled to find in your younger years. You had a family that would do anything for you, a position of power that no one could take from you, all while keeping those beautifully domestic moments between you and the women that you loved.

You finally accepted that there was a secret strength in your delicate nature. Something that you were once ashamed of now was shown probably on your sleeve. In part you owed it to the family business, but in actuality it was all because of the family.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989 @falloutboy-lover

[thewritingrowlet]

The Anniversary, ft. tripleS Kim Yooyeon

tags: fuck it, no tags this time

length: 14k+

author's note: I've lost count of how many times I've been asked to write a Yooyeon smut, so for those who yearn for it, this one's for you.

-

Yooyeon stirs awake in the middle of the night, feeling uneasy about not having you, her husband, in bed with her like she usually does. She rolls onto your side of the bed and reaches for the framed picture sitting on the bedside table. It’s a picture of you and her, taken on the first night of the vacation trip to Europe to celebrate your first anniversary. “It’s been over 5 years, hasn’t it, love?” Her finger runs up and down on the side of the frame, recalling the memory from what feels like a lifetime ago.

A few days before the trip, Yooyeon and you had a disagreement over some things—things that mattered little but were handled poorly enough that they created a fissure in the new and fragile marriage, even though they shouldn’t have been to begin with.

“I don’t want to talk to you ever again! Leave me alone!” She yelled out, letting her frustration and anger be known to you.

Yooyeon remembers the way you slammed the bedroom door on your way out after the final argument of that Sunday evening. Yooyeon also remembers the way you skipped kissing her before leaving for work the following morning. Finally, Yooyeon remembers how her cheeks were drenched in tears because she thought you weren’t coming home on Monday.

At that point, she thought she had lost everything—over nothing but some de minimis matters. She vividly remembers the way she was leaning against the front door, praying to whatever higher being could hear her for you to come back home—for you to say that you love her and that everything wasn’t so doomed; for you to take her hands in yours and recite the vow: “together always, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse.”

Yooyeon recalls how surprised she was when the front door she had been leaning against suddenly swung open, making her tumble backwards. “My love, it’s you! Oh my God, it’s you!” She exclaimed when she saw you at the front door, her eyes red and her cheeks wet. “You took me in your arms and carried me to bed, love,” Yooyeon recalls, “y-you told me that you were sorry, and-and you promised that you’d work on becoming a better man for me.”

All this recollecting has her shedding tears subconsciously, but her mind doesn’t want to stop here just yet. It reminds her of that moment after the super late dinner on Monday where she bent over your lap, hiked up her negligee, and offered you her round butt to be spanked. “Punish me, my love; I’ve been a very bad wife,” she said. She shut her eyes to brace for the impact when she saw you lifting your hand. “I was so scared, my love; I thought you were going to really hit me,” she wipes the tear on her left cheek, “you have no idea how relieved I was when I felt you caressing my butt instead of hitting it.” “I would never hurt you like that, my love,” she impersonates you, getting your deep voice as close to the original as she can.

Yooyeon rolls around in bed as she contemplates calling you. She knows that you wouldn’t get angry about it, but at the same time, she wonders if maybe you were asleep—she hates disturbing your sleep. “Ah, I can’t take this anymore.” She grabs her phone and finds your contact easily. “Please pick up, my love.”

-

You just got off the airplane that took you from Florence back to Seoul. You’re very tired but at the same time, you’re very excited to get home. You’ve spent the last few days going through an absurd amount of work; you’ve met with foreign partners, signed countless documents, and the most painful of them all: eaten at good restaurants without your beloved wife.

Right after you get in your car, you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. You read the name of the caller and see that it’s your wife.

“Hello, love.”

“Hello, love.”

“Are you okay, honey? Why aren’t you sleeping? Isn’t this super late in Seoul?”

“I-I was asleep but not having you in bed with me is awful”

“Really?” You tease her, smirking as you do.

“What—of course! You know this better than anyone, love!”

You try your best to stay in character and not burst out laughing—you even cover your mouth with your palm so that your phone doesn’t pick up any sound.

“Love? Why are you quiet?”

“Oh, sorry,” you clear your throat, “I was looking at the flight schedule.”

“Flight sche—are you coming home!?”

“I’m about to, honey—I’ll be home before you know it.”

“I’m waiting for you! I love you!”

“I love you more, honey. See you soon, alright?”

As soon as you end the call, you start laughing; you just told your wife a harmless lie and now you’re about to appear at the front door of your house and surprise her. Before you start driving away, you grab a velvet box from your suitcase that’s sitting on the passenger seat. You open it and inspect its content, “I hope you like jewelry, love.”

-

One last turn to make before you reach your house, and you start feeling nervous and excited at the same time. This electric car doesn’t make any noise, so that’s a plus and minus at the same time: you can approach the house without making any noise but at the same time, you need to come up with something to get her open the front door, since Yooyeon must be in the bedroom on the second floor, which has windows you can see from the driveway.

You think about whether you can pull off the surprise. “Oh, man, how can I get her to come to the front door at this hour?” Your eyes wander around the front side of the house as you look for ideas. They finally land on the CCTV that’s pointed at the front door. “Should be able to use that.” You pull out your phone and call her, and she picks up immediately thanks to her sleeplessness.

“Honey, I’ll be quick so listen to me,” you say in a serious tone, “I see someone at our front door.”

“F-front door? W-who?” She’s starting to fall for the prank. “Wha-what do I do, love? Do I call the police?”

“Just—oh, fuck,” you dramatize, “just bring a gun or a taser and check—be careful, honey!”

Your wife hangs up the call, presumably to get one of the self-defense weapons you’ve provided for her. You get out of the car and stand at the front door, and while you wait, you pray that she won’t pull the trigger against you, its master.

You didn’t have to wait long, because after a few seconds, the left half of the butterfly door swings open, revealing your wife, who is wearing a pink nightgown—she’s also aiming her gun at you. “Hi, baby,” you greet her with a smile, “missed me?” Yooyeon can’t believe her eyes; her husband, who she thought was still in Florence, is standing in front of her. “H-honey? I-is that really you?” You approach her and lower her gun so that it’s not aimed at your face. “Yes, love, it's me.”

Yooyeon lets the gun fall onto the floor as she falls limp into your arms. “Hi, love,” you greet the baffled woman one more time, “I’m home, love—I’m here for you.” She pulls away from the hug and takes a good look at your face. “Oh my God, it really is you, love,” she rubs your cheeks gently, “b-but how? I thought you were still abroad?” You reveal to her that you were actually in the airport’s parking lot when she called: “I literally just got in the car when your call came in.” Your wife lets out a deep sigh and shakes her head in amusement. “I can’t believe you fooled me like that, love.”

You ask her to let go of you for a second so that you can close and lock the door. You then pick up the gun from the floor, lock the safety switch, and hide it among the books on the nearby bookshelf. Once you’re done, Yooyeon wraps her arms around your body and leans against your chest. “I love you, hubby,” she says softly, almost too quiet to reach your ears, “I love you so much.”

Without saying it back, you lift your wife and carry her to the sofa. You carefully lower her and have her sit on it while you take a knee in front of her. “Are you proposing again, love? I’ll say yes again, don’t worry.” You chuckle, “no, but I do have something for you.” You fish the velvet box from your back pocket and open it for her. “Happy anniversary, baby.” The actual anniversary is later this week but whatever—there’s nothing stopping you from giving your wife a gift.

Yooyeon looks at the necklace you’ve bought for her in awe, seemingly very fond of it. “This looks expensive, love,” she takes the box from your hands and takes a closer look, “is this for me?” You chuckle again. “Well, yeah—who else deserves such a gift aside from my beautiful wife?” She hands the box back to you and lifts her hair off her neck. “Please, honey,” she says. You move behind her and connect the chain right on her nape. She then turns towards you and shows the centerpiece—it looks majestic hanging on the center of her chest, right underneath her neck. “Absolutely beautiful, honey,” you let out a praise, causing her to blush. “Me or the necklace, love?” You smile at her lovingly. “You are beautiful, and that necklace wouldn’t look as good on anyone else, honey.”

You take a glance at the square clock sitting under the TV: it’s now a little past 2 a.m. “Love, you said you couldn’t sleep because I wasn’t with you,” you run a thumb across her soft cheek while looking deep into her eyes, “do you think you can sleep now that I’m home?” Yooyeon takes a deep breath and smiles after. “When you’re with me, I can conquer the world, love.” You put on a sad face. “If you’re busy conquering the world, then who would I be cuddling every night?” She playfully slaps you in the chest. “Oh my God, stoooop,” she fans her red face with both hands, “anyway, yes, I can sleep now that you’re here.”

She opens her arms wide open while her beautiful eye smile is forming on her face. You lift her up with little trouble and walk towards the bedroom with her. “My God, you’re so beautiful, honey,” you let one more praise fly out of your lips. She accepts the praise with a giggle and returns it in the form of a peck on your cheek.

You let her down from your arms and move towards the wardrobe to find something to wear to sleep. You know that your wife likes seeing you undress, so to accommodate that, you take off your clothes in front of her. “You age so well, love,” she bites her lip sexily. You ask if she’s in the mood for sex: “sorry, love, not today.” “It’s fine; it’s not like we’re running out of time” you grab a pair of shorts from the wardrobe and put them on, “let’s just cuddle and go to sleep, okay?”

Yooyeon moves to the center of the bed and taps the empty spot next to her with a grin on her face, “over here, my love—right next to me, your lovely wife.” Your wife is indeed lovely; this is a verifiable fact. You join her in bed and without any word said, she moves to rest her head on the side your chest and place a hand nearby. You hear her yawning, a sign that she’s now ready to sleep—properly this time, with her husband’s arms around her. “I love you,” she suddenly says, “I hope you know that.” You roll over and get on top of her—yes, you know that she’s not in the mood for sex and that this is a very typical sex position, but this is necessary. “I haven’t the slightest doubt in my mind that you love me and I love you back,” you say to her, your tone serious but sincere, “I love you so, so, soooo much, Kim Yooyeon.” You haven’t addressed her by name like that in a while, so she is visibly surprised.

“Please lie down again, honey,” she says, “you’re going to make me horny if you stay like this.” “I don’t see the problem,” you shrug, “just say the word and I’m yours.” Yooyeon taps your cheek gently a few times, and that’s your sign that she’s really not in the mood for it at the moment. “Maybe later, honey, but not now—you need some rest first.” You lie down in bed and pull her into your arms again. “By the way, I’m skipping work today and tomorrow, love,” you say to her, “do you want to do anything?” She yawns audibly one more time. “I don’t know yet—I’ll tell you if I have ideas.”

-

Yooyeon is a morning riser; she’d rather wake up early and immediately start doing whatever she needs to than sleep in and not have enough time to do things. You, on the other hand, used to have the same habit as her, but after becoming a director, you often find yourself working past your bedtime, so you compensate for the lack of sleep by sleeping in. Thankfully, your wife never makes a big deal about the difference—she has used it to her advantage on a handful of occasions, actually. Last year, she woke up before 5 a.m. to make cookies for your birthday and finished just in time before you woke up.

Today, however, after not having seen her husband in almost a week, she’s opting to stay in bed, savoring the moment of having your scent in her nose and your warmth on her skin. You slowly wake up and see that your wife is still in the same position as when you closed your eyes a few hours ago: her face is on your chest and her legs are entwined with yours. “I love you,” you whisper to her, not expecting an answer. “I love you more,” she replies, surprising you.

“Honey,” she softly calls to you, “I’m tired.” You start massaging her arm even if you’re only partially awake. “You are, love? Can I help?” Yooyeon gathers her strength and moves to lie square on your body. “Just stay like this, please.” You put a hand on her back and move it up and down, just the way she likes it.

“Honey,” she calls to you, “can I ask what we’re doing for our anniversary?” You want to open your mouth, but the urge to yawn gets to you first. “What do you think about dinner at The Sapphire, love?” Yooyeon lifts her face off your chest and looks at you with a smile. “Yes, please,” she says, “I’ve always wanted to go there.” You apologize to her for not coming up with something grand for the 6th anniversary, but she rejects it. “As long as I’m with you, I’m down for anything. Without you, all I want to do is stay in bed all day,” she says.

-

“Wakey, wakey, my love,” she says, poking your cheek repeatedly to get you to wake up. You slowly open your eyes and look at her in the eyes. “Am I in heaven? Are you an angel?” Your wife slaps you lightly on the chest and covers her sheepish grin with a hand. “Y-yes, I-I’m your angel,” she looks away to hide her blush, “c-can you wake up, please? It’s almost 10, love.” With a grunt, you move to a sitting position with your legs hanging off the bed. Yooyeon takes the space in your lap, straddling you and placing her palms on your nape. “Love, can—erm—can we have some fun, please? I-I’ve missed you,” she requests shyly. “Sure, honey—one second, please.”

You inhale and exhale a few times to get yourself together and ready to please your wife. “C’mon, honey,” she urges you, getting impatient, “you haven’t touched me in 10 days.” You burst out laughing. “10 days? Really?” Your wife puts on a pout. “Look at that calendar, honey,” she points at a calendar hanging next to the mirror, “I bought a new calendar to keep track of our sex life.” You look at it and see that there are indeed 10 X marks on it, from the 1st to the 10th; three of them are in black and the rest are in red. “What’s with the red and black marker?” She explains that she’ll use a red marker for when you’re not at home and a black one for when you’re at home but have no sex. “That’s interesting,” you peck her once on the lips, “are we ready, then?” “That’s my—ah!”

Yooyeon didn’t expect you to move that fast, and now she finds herself lying in bed with you hovering closely over her. Your deep gaze overwhelms her, forcing her to look to the side. “Are you okay, love?” You peck her exposed cheek gently. “Do you want to change your mind? It’s okay if you do.” She shakes her head rapidly. “Sorry, love, I just got reminded of our first time.” What a great and special time it was; the both of you had saved yourselves for marriage and was each other’s first time almost 6 years ago. “I remember how nervous you were, love,” you show her a gentle smile, “we hugged for almost an hour because you weren’t ready for it, remember?” “I’m so sorry for that, love,” she finally makes eye contact with you, “I don’t know why I was so hesitant—hell, you’re my husband, not my boyfriend.” You tell her that she has nothing to be sorry for: “even if we hadn’t had our first time right there, it would’ve been completely fine.”

“I am glad that you’re of that opinion,” she grabs your hand and places it on her thigh, “now please, let’s start, love.” You run your hand up and down her thigh for a moment, enjoying how soft it is. “I love you, Yooyeon-ah,” you refer to her the way you used to, surprising her again. “I love you too, Harvey-oppa,” she replicates the gesture, referring you to by your other name—the name your dad gave you.

You and Yooyeon always start sex by kissing (sometimes going as far as tongue-wrestling when you’re extra thirsty), and today is no different. You come in for a kiss, and your wife welcomes you warmly. She likes placing her hands on your cheeks when kissing, and you like the way her soft hands feel. “Love,” you break the kiss momentarily, “you’re so damn hot.” Yooyeon knows that she’s very attractive (there were plenty of reasons why people called her the goddess when she was in university) but sometimes, she’s too shy to admit it, and that’s where you come in: you’re the husband who will never get tired of praising her beauty—let it be known, however, that beauty isn’t all she’s about.

Your wife responds by lowering the thin shoulder straps of her nightgown, partially revealing her breasts. “Oh, I know, honey,” she winks, “you’ve told me that so many times in the past few years.” You chuckle slightly in amusement. “Sometimes I can’t believe how lucky I am to be with you, love.” She gives you a fleeting kiss and tells you that the feeling is mutual, which is amazing to hear.

Yooyeon continues lowering her nightgown until her breasts are fully out in the open. You latch your mouth onto one of them and place your hand on the other, earning a mix of gasps and moans from her. “I-I wish they were bigger for you, hon,” she utters. The shock puts you to a halt. “That’s very uncalled for,” you say, your tone firm, “I didn’t marry you for your bodily assets, my dear wife.” She shuts her eyes when she feels your hand squeezing her breast. “B-but still, I—” You cut her off with a quick kiss, and while you’re there, you snake your tongue into the space in her mouth and fight her tongue.

You pull away from the embrace and pull your wife into a sitting position. You then move to sit behind her and wrap your arms around her body. “Look in the mirror, dear,” you point at the mirror that’s hanging right in front of you, “tell me what you see.” Yooyeon scans her reflection, her gaze going up and down from her head down to her toes. “I-I’m pretty,” she utters softly, “I-I look sexy right now.” You sneakily put your hand on her crotch and start rubbing her over her panties. “There you go,” you praise her, your voice gentle, “now, let’s never say such thing again, okay?” “Ah, ah—o-or what?” She dares challenge you. “Wha-what would you do if I said such thing again?” You bite the side of her neck lightly, earning a surprised yelp from her. “I will tie you to each corner of the bed and not touch you until you say sorry.”

You increase the intensity of your fingers’ movement on her crotch, and you notice that she’s starting to wet her panties. “H-honey,” she calls to you, “c-can I take off my panties, please?” You don’t answer her, and instead, you start rubbing more aggressively. “Oh, oh, oh,” she’s letting out moans freely, “y-you’ll make me cum, honey.” You started doing this to warm her up, but if she wants to cum, then she’s free to do so—in fact, you’ll gladly make her cum.

She uses one hand to hold your hand that’s busy stimulating her and while the other reaches for your nape. She then leans back against your chest and hands over the control of her pleasure to you—submissive as always. “Honey, please—oh, God, please, that’s so good, honey.” You can tell that she’s enjoying this; not only is she moaning freely, but she’s also rolling her hips around. “P-please, take off my panties—I’m begging you.” She sounds desperate enough for it, so you grab the waistband and pull down her panties recklessly, not worried about whether it’s properly off or not.

Yooyeon screams from the top of her lungs when your fingers are directly on her nub, finally getting what she’s been begging for. “Yes, yes, like that, hon,” she eggs you on, “please, please!” You put your mouth close to her ear and lick it, adding a dose of tease to the stimulation. “Cum for me, baby,” you whisper in a low voice, “cum for your husband like the good wife that you are.” To increase your chance of making her cum, you place your other hand on her left breast, alternating between massaging and tugging it.

Your wife lets out a very loud scream and lifts her butt of the bed as juice gushes out of her core—that’s her first orgasm in 10 days (because she doesn’t touch herself, ever), all thanks to you. You remove your hand from her crotch and place it on her stomach, gently rubbing it as she rides the high of orgasm, moaning oh-so-sensually as she does. “Good, baby, good,” you praise her, “such a good wife, aren’t you?” You notice that your wife is getting limp, so you lean backwards against the headrest so that she can lean against your body more comfortably.

“Oppa,” she calls to you, still weak, “thank you so much—I love you.” You peck her cheek from the side and tell her that you love her more. “How are you feeling, love?” Yooyeon takes a deep breath to compose herself. “I feel great,” she sighs, “you don’t know how desperate I’ve been, hon.” She takes off her nightgown and tosses it onto the floor, she then does the same with her panties. “That’s much better,” she says.

You spend a few more minutes just chilling; your wife’s heartbeat has returned to its normal pace, and she is now calm and collected, just like she usually is. That is, until she’s reminded of something: “honey, what about you?” You didn’t know that you were drifting to sleep again. “Huh? What about me?” Yooyeon slaps your thigh lightly, mildly annoyed. “Get your head in the game, hubby,” she says, “you haven’t cum yet.” You let out a yawn first before responding. “That’s where you come in, no?” Yooyeon turns her head to peck you quickly. “Of course, I’m your wife.”

With a small grunt, your wife moves away from your body and gets on her hands and knees in between your legs, your cock pointing right at her face. “May I, honey?” You give her your approval in the form of a nod, and she starts moving her head closer to your tip. Without breaking eye contact, she parts her lips and takes you in her mouth. “That’s good, love,” you put a hand on the back of her head and pet her gently, “you’ve gotten so good at this, haven’t you?”

It's not an empty praise; Yooyeon from 6 years ago wouldn’t even touch your penis, let alone put it in her mouth. It took her almost two years to muster up the courage to give you head—shout out to Kotone, your friend Yunho’s wife, who convinced her to try it. You still remember the first time she took you in her mouth. It happened around a week before your 2nd anniversary. She had her lips as far apart as possible and slowly moved her mouth along your length, gagging multiple times in the process. Fast forward a few years later, and she’s now much better at it. She’ll even give you head when she’s either not in the mood for regular sex, or when she’s having her period. She’s turned out to be crazy like that—she just needs a little push sometimes.

Your wife notices that you’re not paying full attention to her (because you were too busy recollecting the past), so she bites your shaft slightly to retaliate. “Fuck!” You let out a profanity when you feel it. “You didn’t have to do that, love.” Your wife removes you from her mouth and pouts. “If you’re not paying attention then I don’t want to do it.” You take a deep breath and apologize. “But do you know what was in my head?” She tilts her head in confusion, so you explain to her that the memories of your first time getting a blowjob from her were returning to you and that you were deep into reminiscing it. “Really?” “You know I wouldn’t lie about such thing, love,” you defend yourself.

Satisfied with the exchange, Yooyeon returns to the task at hand and takes you in her mouth again. This time, to make sure that she knows that you’re paying attention, you maintain eye contact with her, only breaking it when it’s impossible for her to look at you because she’s too far down your shaft. “That’s good, love,” you praise her with pets on the head, “keep going, please.” Your wife winks at you and starts going along your length faster, and there’s no better way to egg her on other than throwing praises at her.

You don’t know how many times praises have escaped your lips, but it matters little; your wife likes hearing praises and doesn’t care if they’re repetitive. “Love, I don’t think I can last long,” you announce, a hint of sadness in your voice because you don’t want this to end so soon. Your wife removes you from her mouth, looks at you straight in the eyes, and whispers, “give me your cum, honey.” You nod, and she returns to her previous position.

You wait until she takes you in her mouth again. Once she does, you palm the back of her head and force her down your shaft. Unready, your wife gags instantly, and you can feel your arousal peaking thanks to the sound. “Be good, love.” You use this final stretch to fuck her mouth—nothing too rough, though; you don’t want to hurt your lovely wife.

“God, fuck,” are all you can come up with right now, as the wetness of her mouth proves to be very pleasurable for you. “Love, I really can’t hold on,” you announce again. Just before you blow, you retreat from her mouth. “Oh, God—fuck.” You close your eyes and ride the high of your orgasm as your cock sprays semen onto your wife’s face. In the meantime, your wife grabs your cock and strokes it, trying to get every last drop of semen out of your system. “Mm, mm-hmm,” she mumbles, “that’s it, honey—give me everything.”

When you open your eyes, you’re met with the sight of your wife, whose smiling face is covered in cum. “Thank you, dear,” you don’t forget to thank her, “I’ve needed that so bad.” Yooyeon takes a bit of cum in her fingers and licks it. “Should’ve released in my mouth, but it’s fine,” she says. She probably just realizes how naughty she sounds, as she looks away to cope with the heat on her cheeks. You chuckle at her. “I know how naughty you are, honey; we’ve spent enough time together.” You peck her hair, precisely on the spot that’s not covered in cum. “Let’s get you cleaned up, love.”

-

After getting cleaned up with your wife, you take her to sit on the sofa. She turns on the TV and begins scrolling through Netflix to find something to watch, while you sit on the other side of the sofa and pull out your phone to catch up with work. “Ah, what am I doing—my husband is literally next to me.”

She turns off the TV and moves to sit on your lap. You ask if you can help her with anything, your eyes still locked on your phone. Yooyeon reaches for your phone and slowly takes it from your hands. “Love, I’m here,” she says, “can I have your attention, please?” You show her a loving smile and kindly ask her to hand the phone back. “Let me text Jeon Yunho one time, love,” you say, opening your palm to receive your phone, “you’ll have my attention after that, I promise.” She looks particularly sad hearing you say that, but you do need to text Yunho; you need his help to make a reservation at The Sapphire, and for reasons you don’t know, he has exclusive access when it comes to making reservations at these fancy places.

After sending the text, you put your phone on the sofa and turn your attention to your wife. “Sorry, love,” you take her hands in yours, “I need help making a reservation for our anniversary.” Your wife shakes her head and tells you that it’s fine. As you’re about to open your mouth to say the next sentence, your phone rings. Based on the ringtone, it’s one of the important people in your life. You can tell that your wife is quite unhappy about getting interrupted, so you apologize to her, even if it’s not your fault. “It’s your mom, love,” you inform her, “one second, please.”

“Hello, this is Harvey,” you greet your mother-in-law, “you’re on speaker, mama.”

“Hello, Harvey”

“Can I help you, ma? Do you need anything?”

“I tried calling Yooyeon-ie but she didn’t pick up—where is she?”

Hearing that, Yooyeon jumps off your lap and runs to the bedroom to find her phone.

“Oh, she’s home with me—she just doesn’t have her phone on her. Is there anything you want to say to her?”

“No, not really. I just wanted to say congratulations—you’re celebrating your 6th anniversary soon, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we are. I’m taking her to dinner this Thursday evening to celebrate,” you reveal your plan to her.

“Sounds great,” she says, “have you thought about getting her pregnant yet?”

The timing couldn’t get any better; Yooyeon was on her way back to you when her mom said that. You notice that she’s looking at you with a flat face that you can’t decipher.

“Erm,” you try to find an answer to the question, “we haven’t talked much about that, actually. We, uh, we’ll talk about that one day.”

“Is it you or her that doesn’t want to have children?”

You see Yooyeon pointing at herself, indirectly asking you to make her take the blame, but you can’t do that—you’re not throwing your wife under the bus, ever.

“It’s not that we don’t want children, ma. It’s just that we haven’t talked about it that much,” you deflect, defending yourself and your wife.

“Fine,” your mother-in-law gives up with little fight, “if you need help convincing my daughter to get pregnant, just call me—talk to you again soon, Harvey”

“See you soon, mama—stay healthy, please.”

You hang up the call and look at your wife. “Love, come here, please,” you tap your lap a few times. Instead of sitting on your lap like before, she gets down on her knees in front of you. “Love? Are you okay?” You’re unsure of her intentions. “F-forgive me, my love, b-but I’m not ready to have children yet,” she says while looking down at the carpet, “please don’t divorce me for that—please, tell me that everything is okay.” There’s no way you’d divorce your wife for not wanting a child, and you make it clear to her that it’d never happen: “I won’t leave you for that, love—trust me. I’m sure you have good reasons as to why you don’t want to have children, and whatever it is, I’m willing to accept it.”

Your wife slowly shifts her gaze upwards, and when you make eye contact with her, you show her a gentle smile. You tap your thighs again. “Come here, my love.” She slowly gets on her feet and moves to sit on your lap. She then hugs you and leans against your chest.

“Am I a bad wife, hon?”

“No, you’re not—please don’t say such thing,” you say, “you’ve been the best wife I could ever ask for.”

“Am I a bad daughter, perhaps? Am I letting my parents down?”

“No, you’re not—please don’t say such thing,” you repeat, “with respect to your parents, love, this life is ours, not theirs. We get to decide what to do, don’t we?”

Yooyeon stays silent, but you’re not satisfied until you get an answer. “Answer me, love.”

“Y-yes,” she says, “yes, we do.”

“Ding-ding-ding, that’s the correct answer,” you reward her with a peck on the head, “let me worry about your parents, love; I’ll tell them that it’s my choice to not have children, okay?”

Feeling satisfied with the exchange, Yooyeon thanks you. “I love you, oppa,” she says, her voice soft, “I love you so much.” “I love you more, baby.”

You notice that a text just came to your phone. “Yunho needs some time to make a reservation for us, love,” you say, “if he’s successful—he should be, honestly—then we can go to The Sapphire on Thursday evening, just like we’ve planned.” “Great,” she says, a hint of excitement in her voice, “I can’t wait, love.”

-

Before you know it, it’s now Thursday. You want to take Yooyeon on a little breakfast date today, so last night, you set up 3 alarms 15 minutes apart from each other to make sure you can wake up on time. When you wake up, though, she’s not in bed with you—even with alarms, you can’t beat her at waking up early; she’s just too good at it.

You collect yourself and start walking out of the bedroom. Your wife hears your heavy, sleepy steps from the kitchen. “Good morning, my love,” she greets you from the kitchen with a cup of (presumably) tea in her hands. You take the cup from her hands and put it on the counter. You then turn her around and hug her from behind, sinking your face in her hair. “Good morning,” you greet her back, “happy anniversary, wifey.” “Happy anniversary to you as well, hubby.” You’re not sure if she said Harvey or hubby—her accent makes those two words sound similar. You ask to make sure, “did you say Harvey or hubby?” “Yes,” she giggles, “it works either way, no?” True, it does work.

You hand your wife her cup again and let go of the hug. She asks if you’d like to have some tea, but you decline. “Let’s have breakfast out, love,” you say. “Sure,” she replies. She turns around with a smile on her face and points at the sofa. “Can we sit there, hon?” “We sure can, lovely.”

You sit on the sofa and your wife takes her favorite position on your lap. “My love, my honey, my world,” you call to her, “thank you for staying by my side all these years. I’m very thankful for you, love.” Yooyeon still gets shy whenever you praise her, which is cute, really. “Oh my God,” she covers her red face, “you’re always so sweet to me, honey.” She takes a deep breath and looks at you in the eyes. “I-I’m also thankful for you.” Her gaze stays strong and does not stray away from yours. “You’ve been the best husband I could ever ask for—I love you so much.”

After a quick kiss, Yooyeon tells you to take a shower. You lift her up and take her to the bathroom with you. “Ah, are we showering together?” She asks. You slap yourself internally for not asking first. “Oh, sorry, do you not want to?” “It’s not that,” she says, “it’s just that showering together takes longer.” That’s a valid point: “alright, you go first—I’ll wait for you on the sofa.” You lower her in front of the bathroom and turn around to walk towards the sofa again, but she stops you. “Look at me, please.” Your wife takes off her nightgown and shows you her nude form, and you notice that you’re getting hard—she probably notices it, too. Your eyes roam on her body, looking at her from top to bottom. “You look good, love—you always do,” you praise her, holding back your drool, “now go take a shower, please.” She mutters a soft thank you as she disappears behind the bathroom door.

-

After taking a shower yourself, you’re now ready to get breakfast with your wife. She says she wants to take a ride on the motorcycle, citing that she’s missed hugging you from behind while you ride around the city with her. She’s dressed for it, so you have no reason to say no, so here you are: riding around the city with your wife on the passenger seat, hugging you from behind as she wishes.

You arrive at her preferred breakfast spot after a short ride on Bob, your motorcycle, and your wife immediately jumps off in excitement—she’s so excited that she forgets that she still has her helmet on. “Not so fast, love,” you call to her via the intercom, “come here, let me take off your helmet.” She turns around comedically, and you can see her eye smile through the clear visor. You reach for the latch and lift the helmet off her head, making a small mess of her hair. She tidies it as much as she can, and you finish it by tucking a stray hair behind her ear. You then proceed to take off your helmet and walk with her inside the restaurant.

Yooyeon says that she’s been craving Singaporean-style butter toast, so she orders not one, but two toasts for herself—she even stutters when ordering, feeling embarrassed by herself. You, on the other hand, aren’t too interested in toasts, so you opt for congee with char siu beef, because congee in the morning is just too good to miss out on. After ordering, you find a table to sit at and talk to kill time.

Your wife pulls out her phone from her pocket. “Honey, your brother just texted me,” she says. “Which one?” You ask because you have twin little brothers. She scratches her head as she tries to remember his name. “Uh, erm, Jaehyun-ie—whatever his other name is.” You chuckle slightly. “Shane,” you remind her, “it’s Shane.” She puts on a grin as she nods. “Anyway,” she returns to the subject, “he said congratulations on the anniversary, and that he hopes to propose to Jiwoo by next month.” You’re glad that things are working out for your brother and his girlfriend; he’s a nice person and she’s an even better person. You tell your wife to thank him for the congratulations. “Also, tell him that I wish him a happy life with his girlfriend,” you add. “Alri—oh, he’s calling us, hon.”

Before she picks up the call, she moves to sit next to you. “It’s a video call, hon,” she says as she aims her front camera at the two of you, “I’m picking up in 3, 2, 1.”

“Hey, guys,” you greet Shane and his girlfriend, “good morning!”

“Good morning, hyung and noona,” he says, “congratulations on the 6th anniversary, guys. We wish you eternal happiness.”

“Thank you, Shane,” you put on a thumbs-up, “how are you guys doing?”

His girlfriend takes the turn to speak, “we’ve been very good, oppa. I know we’re not married yet, but our 2nd anniversary is around the corner.”

You put on a big smile, in approval of their relationship. “Ask Shane to take you on a dinner, Jiwoo-yah; I’m sure he has the money for it.”

You then turn to your wife and hand the talking stick over to her. As soon as she starts talking to them, you see a waiter walking towards you with a tray full of food in his hands. You help him place the bowls on the table and ask Yooyeon to show them the food. “Yah, look at this,” Yooyeon switches to her rear camera and aims it at the food, “you guys want to join us?” Through the video call, you see Jiwoo slapping Shane’s thigh repeatedly. “Ahhhh, unnieeee,” Jiwoo whines cutely, “that’s Morningside, isn’t it? Oh my God, I’ve missed Morningside!” Jiwoo turns to Shane and whispers something to him, and he responds with a nod—they probably just set their next date. “We’ll join you next time, unnie,” Jiwoo says with an eye smile on her face, “we have other things to do today.”

After a few more minutes of conversation, they’re now ready to end the call. “Harvey-oppa, Yooyeon-unnie,” Jiwoo says, her tone sweet and sincere, “congratulations on the anniversary, seriously. I hope me and oppa get to live happily together like the two of you.” You and Yooyeon thank her for the kind words, and after exchanging waves, they end the video call. “Love, text Shane for me, please,” you say as you sprinkle pepper into your congee, “tell him to visit us this Saturday for Jack-in-the-box.” She asks what it means, but you deflect: “he’ll know, love, don’t worry.”

-

“Let’s get changed, love,” you poke your wife, who is scrolling mindlessly through social media, “we need to leave soon.” She puts her phone down on the bed and moves to sit on your lap. “I have something special for tonight, hon; I hope you like it,” she says. “I’d say the chance of me liking it close to 100%,” you peck her on the lips, “get off me, please, love.”

Your wife returns the peck before jumping off your body, and in turn, the bed—and you follow suit after her. Based on how her face is decorated with a grin and pink cheeks, you can tell that she’s excited to show you what surprise she has up her sleeve. “Come oooon, get out of here!” She fixes her hands on your back and pushes you out of the bedroom.

You walk towards the spare bedroom that was turned into a walk-in closet a few years ago to find something nice to wear. You estimate that Yooyeon will be wearing a dress, but it’s the color of said dress that is the question. So, to anticipate, you grab some sets of jackets and trousers of different colors: navy, light grey, and dark blue. Along with them, you also grab a black shirt and a white shirt. “Do I need to wear a tie?” You tap your chin as you think about it. “Eh, probably not,” you decide, “I’m not in the mood." You then proceed to unlock your phone and say, “hey, Nudle, choose a number between 1 and 3.” After a short animation, the AI voice assistant picks 1. “Navy blue, it is.”

You quickly get rid of your T-shirt and shorts and let them pile on the floor. You then take the white shirt off its hanger and put it on. Before you put on your suit, you take a quick sniff to make sure it doesn’t smell when it’s being stored, and thankfully for you, it doesn't. “Oh, perfume—how did I forget.” You unbutton your shirt again and spray your wife’s favorite perfume on your belly button, chest, armpits, and nape. You continue dressing up and stand in front of the mirror to make sure everything is nice and tidy. “Heh, I look good,” you praise yourself, “no wonder Yooyeon-ie fell for me.”

After getting dressed up, you walk towards the bedroom and knock on the door. “Are we ready, love?” The door slowly swings open, revealing your wife, who is dressed in a fancy black sleeveless dress—she’s also wearing the necklace you bought for her. “Goodness me,” you feel your breath get taken away, “you look incredible, love.” Yooyeon reveals that she bought it when she went out with Kotone yesterday afternoon while you and Yunho played tennis.

“You like it, hon? I bought it specifically for tonight.” That’s an unnecessary question, isn’t it? “Of course, I do, love,” you scan her from top to bottom, “my God, aren’t you God’s most beautiful creation.” She smiles oh-so-beautifully thanks to your praise, and she rewards you with a peck on the lips. “Come on, hon,” she says, “I have a feeling that we’ll start getting horny if we don’t leave now.”

-

A staff member of The Sapphire greets you at the front door and asks, “are you here for a reservation?” You say yes and tell him your name, and after looking at his list, he turns to you again with a smile. “Follow me, please, sir and madam.” Your wife wraps an arm around yours as the two of you follow the staff into the restaurant to be taken to your table.

You follow him up the fancy stairs and onto the second floor, where a table costs more than any other part of the restaurant thanks to the privacy it offers. “I should thank Yunho for this,” you think. The staff stops at a table in the corner and politely points at it. “Would you like to have wine or champagne, sir and madam?” You decline politely, telling him that you and Yooyeon stopped drinking years ago—you’d like to have water in its place. “Of course, sir,” he says, “your course will start soon; please kindly wait.”

You show the staff a kind smile as he starts walking away, leaving you alone with your wife. “Love,” Yooyeon places her hands in the middle of the table, “thank you for taking me here—I love you.” You hold her hands and rub the back of them with your thumbs. “I love you more, love,” you say, “happy anniversary.” “Happy anniversary to you, too.” Your wife smiles at you lovingly, and you notice the way her eyes are glassy from unreleased tears.

“Love, listen to me, please,” you take a deep breath before saying your next point. “I know that sometimes I spend too much time working and come home very late but believe me that everything I do is out of love for you—you matter the most to me, love, and it’s been an honor for me to be able to provide for the two of us like this.” You don’t know what made you say that, but it just feels right at the moment. “I know,” her voice trembles from the emotions, “believe me, I know.” She pulls out a handkerchief from her purse and wipes a tear with it. “I always pray for you when you’re not at home, and when you are, I always want to show you how much I love you,” she adds.

You can tell that she wants to kiss you, but this round table is in the way. There’s no one else on this floor, so you summon her to you so that you can kiss her. She sits sideways on your lap—because her dress doesn’t allow her to sit like she usually does—and kisses you passionately, screaming at you how much she loves you. “I will always love you, Harvey,” she says, her eyes still glassy. “Did you say Harvey or hubby?” You crack a little joke to lighten the mood, earning a laugh from your wife. “Go back to your seat, love; the food will be here soon.”

“What are we having, honey?” Yooyeon asks. “Yunho showed me a list and here are the things I chose—you ready?” Before you can say the first thing, your wife shows you an open palm to halt you. “That’s alright, hon; I’m sure the server will tell us what we’re eating,” she says. You burst out laughing as a response. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You didn’t have to wait long until the first dish was brought out to your table. “These are the sea scallops with avocado, frisée, and key lime vinaigrette, sir and madam.” A server sets two small plates on your table while another server pours water into your glasses. “Please enjoy, sir and madam; we are glad to have you with us tonight.”

After the servers leave your table, you raise your glass. “Together always, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse,” you say. Your wife repeats the line and clinks her glass with yours. “I will never get tired of saying that line,” she says, “now, shall we?” Yes, we shall—let’s stop talking and start eating, hey? It’s what the two of you came here for.

-

You’re now back at home after a few hours of dinner. You sit on the sofa without changing your clothes, because you can’t be bothered to do so just yet. “Wait here, hon,” your wife enters the bedroom, presumably to get something she wants to show you.

She comes out of the bedroom while hugging a photo album. “Oppa,” she calls to you, “would you be down to go down the memory lane?” You nod, “sure, come and sit next to me, love.” She waddles cutely towards you, her face decorated with a beautiful eye smile and an adorable grin.

“First thing first,” she says as she opens the album, “your love letter to me, which you sent via Shane.” You feel your cheeks getting hot; you had Shane go to the post office and send a letter you had written to Yooyeon, in it a love confession and an invitation to dinner—the mail was under his name, too. “I wonder if Shane wrote Jiwoo a love confession like his brother did to me,” Yooyeon piles on. “Do you remember what you wrote, by the way?” You nod. “Of course I do—how can I forget? That was my last attempt at courting you.”

The letter went a little bit like this:

“Dear Miss Kim Yooyeon,

I’ve been meaning to share with you the thing that has been on my mind for quite some time.

From the moment we met, I felt attracted to you in a way that I couldn’t describe. Your sweetness, your sharpness of mind, and the way you perceive things around you have captivated me in ways that I never expected. In the short conversations we’ve shared, I found myself longing for the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. I eventually realized that there was something deeper than just mere excitement or admiration—it’s love.

With this letter, I would like to be honest and let you know that I cherish and treasure you more than words can express. Your presence in my life, despite being minimal (for now), has brought me so much joy and excitement, and I can’t help but think of a future together, where we share more memories, more laughs, and more dreams.

With that in mind, I would like to have the chance to spend more time with you in a special way. Would you like to join me for dinner? My family has a special place we often go to together, and I think that it would be such a great honor if you could be my guest. Perhaps we will be able to talk more about us and see how we might proceed from here.

Kindly let me know if you’re free next weekend and interested in this. Please understand that I want you to know how much you mean to me, and I look forward to hearing from you.

With affection and respect,

Han ‘Harvey’ Hyunjin.”

“I was so confused why you wrote your name like this,” Yooyeon says, placing a finger on your name, “I had always known you as Harvey.” You chuckle in response. “You’re not the first person to say that, love.”

Yooyeon then moves on to the picture on the first page. “Florence, honey.” She shows you a selfie of the two of you eating gelato while sitting on a bench. You sigh as you carefully tread the lane of memory. “We had fought a few days before we left for Florence, hadn’t we, love?” Your wife lets out a sigh too. “I saw a piece of paper on the kitchen counter, and I thought that was our divorce paper,” she says, “imagine my surprise when I found out that it was our plane ticket.” You wrap an arm around your wife and softly say, “I’m so sorry for that, love; I was so self-centered and didn’t take your feelings into account.” “It’s okay,” she pecks the side of your face, “I think we’ve learned a lot since that.”

“Next,” she looks at the other side of the page, “moving into this house.” The price of the house had gone up a few weeks prior, forcing you to sell your cars so that you could afford it. “You could’ve taken my money and kept the cars, you know,” your wife says, a hint of regret in her voice. “But that was your life savings, love; I couldn’t bring myself to take it,” you reason. “I know, but still, I wouldn’t have had a problem with that,” she counters.

She bursts out laughing when she sees the first picture on the next page. “Oh my God, I remember this like it was yesterday,” she points at the picture of her getting licked by a camel in Dubai. You join her in laughing as you recall the memory. “You were so startled that you fell backwards—if you hadn’t worn jeans back then, the camel guy would’ve seen your panties.” Yooyeon covers her face and shakes her head. “God, it was so close to being disastrous.” Aside from the photo, you also have a video on your phone of her sliding down a sand hill on a sled while screaming from the top of her lungs, which is both very funny and memorable.

Her smile fades instantly when she sees the picture placed on the 4th page—it’s a picture of you bearing your uncle’s pall with your twin brothers and dad, taken by Yooyeon from a distance. “Your uncle, hon,” she says, sadness woven in her voice. Your mom’s older brother passed away from cardiac arrest in the middle of the night, right when you were having sex to celebrate your 4th anniversary. You remember stopping abruptly when you heard the news through your smartwatch, thus ruining your and her mood. “What went through your head when we had to stop, love?” You ask, trying to understand what it was like for her. “Please don’t get mad, but initially I was so unhappy,” she says, “I had been so desperate for your touch, but then we had to end awkwardly like that.” You peck her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry about that, love, but I’m sure you know what he meant for us.”

You move on to the final page of the album, which has two pictures on it. Placed on the top is a picture of Yooyeon holding a plate full of cookies with you sleeping in the background. Underneath that is a group selfie of you, Yooyeon, Shane, Jiwoo, and Shaun who was holding the phone (he was single at the time), taken after dinner at your house. Jiwoo made scones and they were so good that Yooyeon asked her to make one more batch before letting her leave. Jiwoo and Shaun ended up staying the night at your house because it was so late by the time she was done.

“Did you hear Jiwoo’s moans, by the way?” Your wife’s question stuns you momentarily. “Excuse me?” “Oh, you must’ve been asleep,” she chuckles, “I heard them when I was on my way to the toilet, and all I’m going to say is that Shane must be good at sex, just like his older brother.” “Shane, you—oh, my fucking God!” You palm your forehead, unsure of what to make of this information. You certainly did not need to know that your little brother was smashing his girlfriend while staying at your house. “Well, at least Shane and Jiwoo were happy,” you think.

“Speaking of moaning,” your wife moves to sit on your lap, “you haven’t made me moan yet—it’s time to rectify that, don’t you think?” You burst out laughing, amused by her stunt. Yooyeon from 5 to 6 years ago would beat around the bush whenever she wanted sex, but nowadays, she’ll say the craziest things to get you to touch her. “I never thought you’d be so crazy, love,” you say. “Can we start now, please? I-I’m impatient,” she says, her cheeks hot.

Your wife doesn’t want to have sex outside the bedroom, and as boring as it is sometimes, you don’t want to go against her wishes. With that in mind, you carry your wife by her butt to the bedroom. On the way there, you notice that her breathing is getting faster, so you rush to the bedroom and promptly sit on the edge of the bed.

“Love, are you okay?” You ask, concerned about how her heart is racing for seemingly no reason. She takes a deep breath before answering. “I-I have a feeling that I’m fertile today, a-and you might make me pregnant if you… y’know.” “Do you want to get pregnant, love?” She stays silent for a little while as she thinks of an answer—only to end up returning the question to you. “D-do you want me to get pregnant, honey?” “No, no, no, it doesn’t work like that,” you deflect, “this isn’t just about me, love; if you don’t want to get pregnant, then we’re not getting you pregnant.” She takes another moment of silence as she thinks about her options. “Don’t worry about your parents, love; this life is ours, not theirs, and we get to make our own choices,” you assure her. “Okay,” she says, “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to get pregnant—not yet at least.” You assure her again that she has nothing to be sorry for and that you’ll never let anyone press your wife into getting pregnant.

“I love you,” she says, seemingly out of nowhere, “thank you for everything, honey.” You want to say it back to her, but you think that it’s better to kiss her instead. Without breaking the kiss, your wife holds your hand and guides it to the zipper on her back, signaling to you that she wants to undress. With little effort, you manage to unzip her dress all the way down and sneak your hand inside to feel her soft skin. She abruptly breaks the kiss and jumps off your lap. You ask if she’s okay, and she responds by putting on a sexy smile and turns her back against you.

You keep an eye on your wife as she wiggles her body around, and would you look at that: her dress falls off swiftly with little effort and pools around her feet, revealing her strapless bra and matching panties. She turns her head to the side just enough to see you wiping drool from the corners of your lips. “You’re never going to get tired of me, are you?” “No, I’m not,” you say, “have you seen yourself? Do you need to look in the mirror again?” Satisfied with the exchange, she turns around and kneels in between your legs. “What are we waiting for then?”

You can hear the machine-like hum from the AC, so you know that the only reason it’s getting so hot in this bedroom is because of your arousal. With your wife still kneeling on the floor in front of you, you free yourself from the constraints that are your jacket and shirt, and you see that your wife is smiling at you. You’re struggling to decide if her smile is sexy or beautiful, though—you know you like it, that’s for sure.

“Would you like to do the honors?” You offer your wife the chance to take off your pants. Without saying a word, she unbuckles your belt and unzips your pants. “May I?” How cute is it that she’s still asking for permission in this position? “Yes, love, you may,” you say. She puts her hands on the inside of the waistband and makes sure that she’s also grabbing your boxers. She gives you one more look and you respond with a nod. With a grunt, Yooyeon pulls your pants and boxers down, thus freeing your cock from its constraints.

She starts stroking your shaft, admiring the length and stiffness. “Wow,” she utters, “it’s crazy how it fits in my body every single time.” It seems like she said it without thinking, judging by how she jolts a little after. “Anyway,” she chuckles, “here I go.” Your wife parts her lips and eases you into her mouth—nothing too crazy for now; she’s not rushing to take you deep right away. That said, it’s still very pleasant for you. You place a hand on her head and pet her gently, praising her for the good work and encouraging her to keep going. “Yes, love,” you say, “that’s very good, baby.”

She does love hearing praises (especially from you) but at the same time, they make her get overexcited sometimes, so you keep an eye on her and make sure that she won’t end up hurting herself while sucking your cock. “Ghlk!” Well, speak of the devil; she just choked on your shaft. “Easy, love, easy; there’s no need to rush,” you try to calm her down—alas, it doesn’t seem to work. In the moment of panic, your wife stumbles backwards, thus removing you from her mouth, and starts coughing. You pick her up from the floor and make her sit on your lap. “It’s okay, love—it’s okay,” you rub her chest gently, “you’re okay, you’re okay. Let’s calm down for a second, yeah?”

After catching her breath, she’s now able to function properly again. “I’m sorry,” she says, “I-I got excited because you praised me.” “I had a feeling that’d happen,” you peck her on the lips once, “thank you for trying, love.” Yooyeon accepts your thanks with a smile, which makes you smile yourself.

You move to the middle of the bed with her, and that’s when she says that she’s ready to continue. “C-can we try something?” She asks, and you swear that you can see a floating bulb over her head. “We sure can, love; tell me what you need from me,” you say. First of all, she asks that you let her go and lie on your back, which is very easy to do. She then moves to sit on your lap and tells you the next part. “I will ride you like this, hon, but you can’t touch me at all,” she says as she takes off her panties, tossing it over her head after. “That sounds difficult, love—are you sure you’re not asking too much from me?” She lets out a laugh at your joke. “That’s your challenge, hon; do that and I’ll make sure it’s worth your while,” she promises, “now, hands above your head, please.”

You do as she asks and put your hands on the bed above your head. “I’m all yours, baby,” you hand over the controls to her. “That’s usually my line, is it not?” With your cock in her hand, she guides it towards her entrance and slowly takes you in. “Oh, God, this will never get old,” she says. It feels odd to not have your hands on her, but you’re committed to completing the challenge. Your wife maintains eye contact with you as she starts rolling her hips back and forth, basking in the sensation of being stretched by your girth. “S-struggling, hon?” “Yeah, and so are you,” you say, “I know—” Yooyeon cuts you off with a slap on the cheek. “Quiet, you; I’m calling the shots today.”

“Fuck, that’s naughty,” you think to yourself. You’re not offended or turned off by the little act of violence—it arouses you more, in fact; you’re as hard as you can get in her tight core right now. “I’m yours, mistress,” you rile her up by playing submissive. “Damn right you are,” she puts on a naughty smirk. She leans forward to hold your wrists down and she’s far enough forward that her tits are within licking range. “Be a good boy and make me cum, will you?”

After getting a nod from you, she starts fucking herself on your cock, going up and down at her own pace. It’s cute to see that she’s moaning so freely despite her tough and dominant front. On the other hand, you’re having so much fun right now; your wife is taking control after being submissive for countless sessions over the years, and you seriously hope that this isn’t just a one-time thing.

You notice that she’s starting to slow down and showing signs of exhaustion. “Is that all you have, mistress? All that talk and you’re tired already?” You taunt her, hoping that it’ll trigger her into speeding up again. “Fuck you,” she snarks, “fuck, this is harder than I thought.” You lift your head off the pillow just enough for your mouth to reach her tits and bite a nipple lightly. “You’re such a naughty boy, aren’t you—oh, fuck, fuck!” You put on a teasing smirk, “what are you going to do about it, mistress?”

The teasing proves to somewhat work—she makes a move for your exposed neck and bites you lightly, making her annoyance at your disobedience known. “Apologize,” she demands, “you don’t want to get hurt, do you?” “N-no,” you adhere to her demand, “I-I’m sorry, mistress.” She pecks you on the lips, satisfied with your apology. “That’s a good boy.”

Your wife fixes her lips on your neck and starts moving her hips again, squeezing you with her tightness, and you can’t help but let out low-pitched moans right into her ears. You notice that she starts sucking on your neck harder. “Mark me, mistress,” you egg her on, “show everyone I’m yours.” Thankfully for you, she’s good at multitasking; not only is she trying her hardest to plant hickeys on your neck, but she’s also not letting up the bounces of her hips. “You’re so good, mistress—you’re so good to me,” you praise her, and you’re starting to wonder if this is considered being submissive.

It seems like she’s finally satisfied with her work on your neck, as she retreats from it and straightens her posture—she also frees your wrists and plants her hands on your chest. “Make me cum, my dear boy,” she reminds you of your task, “please, make your mistress cum.” Her wish is your command tonight, so you do your best to thrust into her from below, making her entire body bounce in the process. Your wife seems to approve this method, as the moans she’s letting out are louder and more frequent. “Am I doing it well, mistress?” “Yes—God, yes, you are,” she says with heavy pants, “please, please, I’m so close already.”

You pick up your pace and fuck her as fast as this position allows you—all the while you’re fighting the strong urge to lay hands on your wife. “Honey, honey,” she calls to you, “I’m about to burst—oh, oh, yes!” Her announcement removes whatever sign of exhaustion from your body and instead fuels the flame of your arousal. “Come on, love,” you subconsciously drop the name, “let’s cum—let’s fucking cum now.”

With a scream, Yooyeon lifts herself off your cock and sprays her juice all over your torso—some of it even hits your face, how nice. You take some in your fingers and have a taste—hmm, interesting taste. You look at your panting wife, whose eyes are closed and lips trembling, as her orgasm takes her to the seventh heaven. You guess that you’ve completed the challenge and are now allowed to touch her, so you take her in your arms and pull her into a cuddle.

“Did I do well, mistress?” You ask teasingly, not forgetting the name. “Ve-very well,” she shows you a thumbs-up, “I am spent, hon.” You ask if she liked taking the dominant role, and she covers her face in shyness. “I-I think I liked it,” she says, “y-you were cooperative too, hon.” You pepper her face with quick pecks, overwhelming her with them. “I aim to please, my love.” She puts her hands on either side of your face and comes in for a proper kiss, and you can really feel that she loves and appreciates you. “I love you,” she affirms, “I love you so, so, so, so, so much.” “I love you so, so, so, so, so, much more,” you say, chuckling after.

You excuse yourself to get some water and your wife asks you to grab her phone from the living room while you’re at it. “A missed call from someone named Jaehoon?” You furrow your eyebrows, a hint of suspicion in your head. “Oh my God, Jaehoon-ie,” you slap your forehead as the realization hits, “that’s just Shaun.” You almost forget that your wife saves you and your brothers by your other names on her phone.

You walk into the bedroom with her phone in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. “Love,” you call to her, “a missed call from Jaehoon-ie.” After getting her phone back from you, Yooyeon calls Shaun back in case he has something important to say.

“Hello, noona,” he says, “were you asleep?”

“No, I wasn’t,” she looks at you with a naughty smirk, “your brother was smashing me so I couldn’t pick up the phone.”

“What the f—I didn’t need to know that, you know.”

Yooyeon hands her phone over to you, and in exchange, you hand the bottle over to her and sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yo, hello,” you take over, “what time is it in New York, Shaun?”

“Uhh,” he takes a moment of silence, probably to check his watch, “around 9 in the morning—we just had breakfast.”

“Oh, right, you’re there with Seeun-ie, aren’t you?”

As soon as you say it, you hear a woman’s laugh from Shaun’s side of the call—wait, why is your wife crawling to you?

“Hello, oppa,” Seeun greets you warmly, “good morning from New York!”

“Good morning, cookie,” you say, still keeping an eye on your wife, who is now kneeling in between your legs like earlier—she must be up to no good. “So, what did you call us for?” Shaun is giving you an answer, but your focus is directed at your wife, who’s starting to give you head. You take a deep breath to concentrate and make sure you don’t arouse suspicion from your brother and his girlfriend.

“I have a feeling that you’re not listening to me, hyung,” Shaun notices, “is noona touching you?”

Well, you’re caught—might as well open the cards for everyone to see. “Yeah, she’s sucking me off,” you reveal nonchalantly, “talk to you guys soon.”

You hear a little surprised yelp from Seeun as you’re hanging up the phone but it’s whatever; you’re all adults. “You couldn’t wait, love? Are you that impatient?” You question your wife, who’s going up and down your shaft with her mouth. She gives you a little wink, and a naughty idea enters your mind. With her phone in hand, you open the camera app and aim it at her. “Say cheese, love.” As soon as she makes eye contact with the camera, you take a picture. You show your wife the picture of her with a quarter of your shaft in her mouth. You expect her to get mad and ask you to delete it, but she doesn’t—she just lets out a giggle. “I guess that’s our entry for this year,” she says, “anyway, I’m going again—don’t disturb me, please.”

You want to say that it was Shaun who disturbed the two of you, but the way she’s wrapping her lips around your shaft stifles your tongue. “That’s really good, love,” you praise her, “remember, don’t get too excited.” Yooyeon takes a deep breath through her nose before negotiating your shaft deeper into her mouth, possibly into her throat. “Fuck, you’re crazy, love,” you comment.

You see that she’s in a halt, so you ask if she’s okay. She pulls away momentarily to take a breather and possibly say something. “I’m okay, don’t worry,” she says, “how far do you think I can take you?” “Sorry?” You can’t believe your ears. “I want to see how far down I can take you, hon, but I think I need your help—you’ll need to push my head from behind.” “If I see that you’re uncomfortable, I’m pulling out, okay?”

Once the two of you have come to an agreement, Yooyeon parts her lips again and takes you in her mouth. You let her go as far forwards as she can while making sure that she’s not in stress or danger. It’s when she reaches halfway down your shaft that she stops. “Let’s try this, love, alright?” You place a hand on the back of her head and gently push her towards your crotch. “Fuck, you’re so fucking good at this, love,” you let another praise fly out of your lips.

Yooyeon closes her eyes as more of your shaft enters her mouth, and she can feel the tip of your penis poking the back of her throat. “Stay calm, Kim Yooyeon; you can do this—do it for your precious husband”, her brain tells her. She plants her hands on your thighs as she tries her hardest to keep her jaws as wide open as she can. She tries looking up at you to find comfort, and you make sure to look her right in the eyes, smiling as you do. “You’re doing great, love—you’re so damn good at this,” you pet her head gently, not pushing her further down your shaft.

You notice that she’s getting limp, so you promptly retreat from her throat so that she can breathe. You pull her into your lap again and immediately spam her with praises. “You were so brave, love,” you say, “I admire how you’re willing to go the distance for my pleasure.” You don’t care if it sounds so self-centered, but it’s true in your opinion. “You’re my husband,” she rubs the side of your face gently, “your happiness is the top of my priority.” You thank her for that attitude, but you also assure her that she’s equally important in this relationship, and that she’s always welcome to express her desires.

“Is that so?” She asks the obvious. “Yes, that is so,” you state the obvious. “Well in that case,” she places her hand on her crotch, “you haven’t been here yet.” You ask if she wants you to wear a condom, but she firmly declines. “I’ll just take the pill after, it’s not a big issue,” she says. You ask if she wants to take control again, but she says no. “Being dominant is tiring, hon,” she says.

With that out of the way, you stand up and lower your wife onto the floor. You then turn her around and bend her over the edge of the bed. “Oh, I’m going to be so sore tomorrow,” she says, letting out a chuckle after, “well, what are you—oh, God, honey.” You cut her off by plunging your cock deep into her. “Sorry, you were saying?” You tease her, but she can’t reply because she’s too busy moaning—she also doesn’t have to put on a charade like earlier; she just simply needs to act like she usually does: submissive and obedient.

You failed to notice that your hands were on her hips the entire time, so you remove them and put them behind your back. “Oh, oh—w-what are you doing? Where—ngh—where are your hands?” Well, it seems like she does like it when your hands are on her body. “Sorry, I thought you didn’t want me to touch you,” you say jokingly, “here, let me fix that.” You place one hand on her hip and use the other to deliver a slap onto her butt, making her scream. “Like this, love?” You spank her one more time with your other hand. “Or maybe like this?”

Your wife squirms around as she tries to cope with the sting from the slap, but your big hands don’t allow her to move too much. “H-honey,” she says weakly, “s-stop hitting me, please.” You stop your thrusts momentarily to apologize and ease her pain by rubbing her butt cheeks gently. “I’m sorry, baby—was I too rough? Would you like to stop for a moment?” Seeing that she’s nodding, you retreat from her warmth and flip her onto her back. You then move her into a more comfortable position in bed, giving her the time to catch her breath and calm herself down.

After getting herself together, Yooyeon reaches her arms out, inviting you to enter her warm embrace. “To me, please,” she asks, her voice weak and quiet. You join her in bed and wrap your arms around her, not forgetting to apologize for being too rough on her. “I-I often forget how lustful you are for me,” she says. “You are my wife, love; if I’m not lustful for you, then something must be wrong with me,” you reply. It is true, though, is it not? If a man like you is married to a woman like her but isn’t interested in getting sexual with her, then that guy must be fucked in the head—and the narrator shares the same idea, too.

She stays in your arms for a few more minutes until she feels ready to go again—she begs you to not be so rough this time. “Certainly, love,” you say. You roll over so that you’re on top of your wife, and without being asked, she parts her legs and wraps them around your body. “You know,” she calls for your attention, “I always feel loved when we do it like this, oppa.” Hearing her refer to you by that term makes your heart flutter—it makes you feel like you’re 26 again, back when you were still trying to court her. “I do love you, sweetheart—I will always love you until you’re sick of me.”

She places a hand on your nape and pulls you down towards her for a kiss, and while your lips are connected with hers, you hold your cock in one hand and ease your way into her warmth again. When it first goes in, Yooyeon breaks the kiss and moans right against your lips. “I love you, Hyunjin-oppa,” she says in a soft tone, “you’re always so kind and sweet to me.” “Thank you, love; I try my hardest for you,” you replicate the soft tone, “and I love you more, Yooyeon-ah.”

You start moving your hips slowly, really savoring how warm and tight she is around your girth. “Love, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can last too long,” you say, hoping that she won’t be disappointed. “That’s fine; I don’t want to work too hard for your cum anyway,” she says. You move your head to the side and latch on her neck, and your wife’s moans get louder in response.

You can feel your cock twitching in her core, and she can feel it too. “C’mon, honey, give it to me. Give it to—oh!” With a grunt, you blow your load deep into your wife, just the way she likes it. You stay inside her and wait until all of your cum has come out of your penis. At the same time, your wife is letting out a very long moan, as your warm semen enters her body.

You’re starting to get drowsy for some reason, though. “Kim Yooyeon, I… love—”

-

You stir awake in the middle of the night when you hear a thud. In your half-awake state, you move your hands around, and the fact that you can’t feel your wife’s presence makes you jolt in panic.

You lift your head and see that your wife is on the floor while rubbing her knees, seemingly in pain. “Love, are you okay?” You ask, still unable to fully open your eyes. “I am, honey—ow, shit!” You ask what she’s doing, and she tells you that she was trying to get the polaroid camera from the wardrobe, but her legs were too weak, causing her to fall on her knees. “I will—” a yawn cuts you off, “I will get it for you, love.”

You gather your consciousness and get off the bed. You first help your wife and place her on the bed before heading towards the wardrobe to get the camera and film. You insert one film into the one-eyed machine and hand it over to your wife. “What are you doing with it, love?” Your wife claps her hands twice to turn on the lights and asks you to sit next to her. “Let’s take a picture, oppa; I don’t think a picture of me sucking you is appropriate to be displayed,” she says.

You chuckle in agreement with your wife. You move to sit next to her and rub your eyes to fully wake up. “Say cheese, oppa.” Yooyeon aims the camera at the two of you and presses a button. After a short while, the film comes out and she shakes it with all her might until the picture is clearly visible. “Happy anniversary, my beloved husband,” she says, love and affection woven in her voice. “Happy anniversary, my dear wife,” you reply.

After a quick kiss, you hold her hands in yours. “Together always, in joy and in sorrow, for better or for worse.” “Indeed,” she replies, “together always, until death do us part.” “Hey, that’s new—did you come up with it recently?” She slaps your chest lightly while laughing. “Come, let’s go back to sleep, oppa.”

[twst-rose-prisms]

Hi! Can i ask for some preference for the twst boys? Like who would want a cute/naive s!o, who would want smart/ sexy s!o, silly/goofy one or something like that? Just the guys preference in s!o ? Thanks!

Hi hi~ First of all, I'm super sorry for not answering for a long long time cuz I was out of this blog and fandom 😭 If you're still active then this one is for you my amazing rosie! My first request ever so I'm still learning bu~t I tried my best! (shout out to my bestie for helping me a ton with this 🙏🙏) Btw I'm separating this into 3 parts so it won't be too long~

Twst boys preference for their partner

Characters: All NRC students (except Ortho) x Reader Genre: Fluff Reminder: This is just a headcanon post, so even if you aren't your loved one's preference, do not worry! Remember, love might have preference, but it's never the final thing that decides one's partner, so rest assured~ Your lovely twst boys love you no matter what 🌹❤️ Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon) | Part 3 (coming soon)

🌹 Riddle 🌹

- He would definitely like someone who is responsible and serious about their work just like himself. He admires it whenever they're strict to follow the rules and understand the importance of it like how he is as well. Seeing how diligent they are about their schoolwork would also earn a good impression from the housewarden himself, even better if they're a decently knowledgeable person. - Though he probably needs someone who's always there in his most tired, vulnerable moment too; someone who will comfort him, tell him that he did well, etc. just be there to whisper sweet words, like how hardworking he was on that day, he'll melt into their embrace almost immediately. Let him rest his head on your shoulder or chest, slowly drifting off from tiredness yet his face looks so peaceful and content... Your warmth and gentleness are something he definitely needs after everything that he endured and went through. Of course, those moments are rare since he need to put on a front being a honor student and a dorm leader, so be sure to stick by his side to catch it. - He needs a s/o who can tell him to get loose and take breaks occasionally too, due to how he always being strict on himself. Or whenever he gets angry, they'll be there to calm him down so he won't start an outburst knowing how easily angry he can get. - He isn't really keen on appearance too much, but he would prefer it if his s/o know how to dress properly and formally enough. He is a housewarden after all, so a partner that dress as good as him is enough for a great impression towards Riddle. No need for such things like super fancy make-up or expensive jewelries. - Bonus: if his s/o knows how to bake, surprise him his with favorite sweet strawberry tart occasionally! He'll be pretty flustered that they put so much love and effort into this beautiful tart and would just melt internally, and every bite would taste like heaven for sure 💖

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♥️ Ace ♥️

- He's definitely into people who know how to make jokes or have fun, it's one of the most important things to create impressions toward a guy like him after all! It never hurts to let loose and have fun once in a while y'know. - Though it doesn't have to be someone fun all the time, it could just be someone who could be able to keep up with his shenanigans most of the time or just know how to get loose instead of being uptight or serious. Of course, that doesn't mean letting this guy commit whatever horrible thing he's about to do, his s/o has an important mission and that is to stop him from getting scolded again by the teachers! - He's definitely an appearance type of guy, I mean, just guys being guys y'know; he's probably into cute, cheerful type or maybe a bit girly. But his s/o doesn't have to appear to his taste entirely, just someone being confident enough in their look also earns a point from him too! Giving him a big, goofy grin while making funny hand sings definitely would earn a laugh out of this guy for sure. - Because he's a rather mischievous type of guy, his s/o could be someone who can keep up with it. Or even better, being teasing or joking back at him, it would catch him off guard his s/o actually followed along and that would definitely want him to get their attention. The more unexpected they're around him, the more he would want their attention since he thought they're the most interesting person he has ever encountered! (He won't admit that it's because he falls for them though) - Bonus: One way to get his affection is to watch him playing basketball, like cheering him on or patiently waiting for the match to be over. Just imagine his reaction when you give him a cheerful grin and give him a cool drink as a way to tell him he did well! I'm sure you've earned a spot in his heart at that moment 💖

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♠️ Deuce ♠️

- Because he used to be a rumble delinquent, he probably needs a s/o that would accept his past and encourage him to not be scared, because they'll accept him for who he is no matter what, and that's what he's looking for the most in his partner because he too, want someone to tell him that it's okay to have a bad past, but what matter is how he is himself now and they love him for it~ - No matter how he acts, specifically, whenever he switches to his delinquent mode by accident in front of his s/o, he doesn't want you to be scared or avoid him because of it. That is the last thing he ever wanted - to hurt his partner. And if you saw his "bad boy" mode by accident, be sure to reassure him that you are totally alright with it and it won't drive you away! - He will admire a s/o who is diligent, smart and hardworking, since he is also a hardworking person after all. If his s/o is someone that shows their knowledge in a way that goes "Oh, I read this in a book that..." then our boy is gonna be super impressed! He loves it when you also talk about something you like too and share your knowledge with him, he'll always be ready to listen just to be impressed all over again like the first time. Since he's a slow learner, it would also be great if you could be patient and teach him things that he asks you, don't worry, he is very attentive, especially since it's you being his tutor after all. - He'll probably like it if his s/o is someone strong physically, even better if they don't appear like it; just imagine the astonished look on his face when he sees them easily carry heavy things despite their appearance! He'll be impressed but in another way (if you get what I mean...) - Bonus: If his s/o is someone who can take the lead or initiate a relationship then it's definitely something that will make him melt! Like just imagine if they kiss him or hold his hand suddenly, just being surprisingly affectionate and he'll become a blob! He might not admit it, but it's probably something that he's into, considering how easily flustered he can get when it comes to things like romance 💖

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♣️ Trey ♣️

- I think that out of all the twst characters, Trey is the most easy-going when it comes to partner preference. He's pretty open to any type of people so to him, preference isn't something that he keen on too much, also since he's taking care of everyone most of the time or being the older brother figure, you can expect him to be the perfect, caring boyfriend~ - Though I think he would have special feelings more towards people that are mature with a somewhat older siblings vibe that is capable of taking care of others just like him. He might not appear like it, but he would really appreciate it if he's the one receiving instead of the other way around once in a while, it's the most effective way towards his heart! - It doesn't have to be a s/o that's mature or has an older sibling vibe all the time, they can also just be someone really sweet and supportive. Actively helping him out in the kitchen or tagging along with him in school, that is enough to tell him how affectionate they are towards him, and he too, would be affectionate back towards them. - Perhaps it could also be a s/o that likes hearing jokes or easy-going like him too. Occasionally, he would joke around or make small teases, and if his s/o replied with a laugh or just showed how much they're having fun around him, he would feel really relieved that they love this side of him too, since not many people can take jokes well or sometimes they would even take it seriously. (Ex: the Walrus seal oyster sauce joke) - Bonus: If his s/o is someone who loves sweets then get ready for a gift full of sweetness (literally and figuratively) delivered to them almost everyday! Simply complimenting how delicious they're with a happy expression and that would be enough to earn a heart point from Trey! Even more if his s/o gives him something that they baked themselves as a gift, I'm sure he'll treasure every single little bite with how much effort they put into them 💖

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♦️ Cater ♦️

- Because he's a trendy, fun loving person, I think he would definitely like a s/o that is a fun fellow to be around him! Even better if they also like trendy things; just imagine you guys talking for hours and hours about the latest trends and how do you 2 can follow it, especially those couple trends on magicam. - But of course, it doesn't have to be someone with the same preference as him, it could just be someone chill and easygoing too. If his s/o is a curious, attentive person then he'll definitely love sharing his interests and all the latest trends if they ask him. They don't have to follow it, the way they give him a curious cute look while listening to him talking is already enough to show how much they care about him, and he would be so into them! - He's still overall a chill person that wanna take it easy, so he probably would like his s/o to be the same as him too. Sometimes, just a comfortable silence between the two of you would be enough as he scrolls through his phone casually, with your head on his shoulder or vice versa. - He might have a few preferences when it comes to appearance, such as a cute, trendy or confident s/o who knows how to style themselves. It's totally okay if they're someone more casual, but a well-dressed appearance is if not, a must if you want to impress him first hand. - Bonus: I think Cater is not a person who falls in love easily, but if his s/o tell him how much they love him with a genuine expression, eyes full of sincerity like they really, really mean it, then he'll fall more than just hard~ He probably received a lot of compliments before but none probably meant genuine for him, until he meets someone as amazing as you 💖

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🦁 Leona 🦁

- Oh, you're pretty daring enough if you wanna date someone like him. I mean, he's the housewarden of Savanaclaw we're talking about here, a real lion prince, if you managed to get his heart then I'd say you're already pretty great yourself! I mean, you already saw how others think of him with their tails in between their legs... - Though, if we're talking about preference, he would definitely like someone who won't be noisy and interrupt his precious napping time. Maybe someone that lets him lay down on their lap, stroking his hair or his fluffy ears while he's sleeping. He might deny it but those low purrs and growls are telling a whole different story. Sometimes he could also use them as a great pillow to hug too, with his head on your chest and arm wrapped around your frame, just be prepared for staying like that for the next 3 hours though... - He would find naive s/o interesting too, so easy to mess around and tease, their expression is truly entertaining to watch with the way their round eyes look astonished, then blush brightly from the way he tease them. Like a lion messing around with the little naive herbivore~ He could never get enough or tired of it. - Maybe he would also like a s/o that can be bold or challenging at the right time. Surprises are a welcoming thing, and Leona isn't an exception to it. A somewhat teasing, flirty relationship between you two would be entertaining and also something fun that he would seek for, he does like it when his "prey" fight back after all, though he'll just eat them up in the end like a lion he is. (interpret it as however you want...) - Bonus: One way to really catch the lion prince off-guard is outsmarting him. Pretty hard to do considering how Leona is, I know, but once your wits manage to catch him by the tail, he'll be pretty surprised his s/o is someone more than just his expectation. Maybe acting a little bit daring while we're at it, but I'm sure that he knows how special his s/o is and that no one else is like them 💖

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🐆 Ruggie 🐆

- I think for Ruggie, he probably would prefer a s/o that is smart and witty like him, maybe even better if they're street smart too as he'll be very impressed someone is the same as him. After all, people who have great practical skills can't be someone lazy from a spoiled, rich family right? Don't get him wrong, he didn't mean bad things, but it's just so because he grew up in such an environment, you couldn't blame him for thinking like that. - Though of course, it doesn't have to be someone like him, it could just be a s/o that likes to take care of others or be very supportive too. They can help him out with his errands; expect him to ask if you want anything in return though, since it has been his mindset for a long time now. But hey, if you help him enough in a sincere way without asking for something else, he might start to open his heart to you a bit and trust you more...? Everything takes time including love after all, so be patient~ - Another preference he would like maybe a somewhat naive s/o. Teasing them is nothing but fun for a cunning hyena like him. I mean, he could also use this chance to impress him with his skills in a way too, their face is just so entertaining to watch, but he probably warns them to be careful or bad people gonna get to them easily~ (ex: Ruggie himself) - Because Ruggie grew up really poor, he is someone who treasures and treats food way more important than normal people would, so if his s/o is someone who knows how to cook then he'd feel like he just stepped into heaven~ I mean, just imagine the happy but surprised face when they feed him such luxurious handmade food that they put so much love into, he feels like he's eating a buffet! His s/o could also make lunch for him daily as well, you two could share together as you feed him your homemade food, and his round ears would twitch in happiness for sure. - Bonus: Something sweet, surprising and genuine would be the best way to get his heart. For example, a bag full of warm, fluffy donuts would do! He loves those sweet treats a lot, so if you have free time be sure to bake some for him alright? As there's a phrase goes "the way to a man's heart is through his stomach" after all 💖

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🐺 Jack 🐺

- He would like someone very responsible about themselves and take their work seriously and fairly with no underhanded methods or cheating. Seeing how diligent they are, he definitely would think his s/o is a great and respectful person to be with. I think if they recognize him and compliment him back, that will get him flustered too, though he might deny it with a grumpy expression. (He's just being a bit of a "tsundere" as you call it) - Someone with a moral worthy of his respect is also one of his preferences too. Do try to not misunderstand his coldness, he's a real softie deep down, so if you act kind towards him with no ill intent whatsoever, he'll quickly understand what kind of a person you are and won't be cold towards you much the more you two hanging out... and maybe it'll turn into something more precious than just friendship~ - Once you earn his respect, he'll become your biggest protector that you can imagine. Nobody will dare to mess around with you once you have a giant bodyguard like him tagging along. If his s/o is a bit of a tease and affectionate person, remember to thank him with small pecks on the cheek or a hug, our wolf boy would be pretty flustered with a wagging tail! Speaking of that, he wouldn't mind a bit of a tease too since I think he would like it. (Although he'll deny it again or so) - He isn't an appearance type of person, but if his s/o is someone smaller or shorter than him then his protecting instinct would happen more often. Also, it's cute when your smaller frame tries to wrap both arms around his bigger one, he would unconsciously feel flustered but also found it a bit cute. - Bonus: While it might sound a bit rude to him... or not, but I think if his s/o treats him like he's a big, cuddly and fluffy dog he would get super flustered. Like imagine you give him a big, cute grin while petting his big ears or his super poofy fluffy tail, oh the wolf boy would be so "tsun" about it. His s/o is the only one who can touch his tail or brush it! It's also a way to show affection towards a big wolf like him too, so don't hold back 💖

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To be continued! Stay tuned for part 2~

[loveinhawkins]

Eddie lingers by the Lite-Brite, while Robin and Nancy thunder downstairs in search of the bikes; Steve can hear the echo of their voices as they go, Robin insisting that she get, “—the coolest looking bike, Nance, that’s only fair considering your goddamn outfit nearly strangled me,” followed by Nancy’s answering laughter.

Eddie doesn’t look like he’s heard them at all. Looks like he’s in a world of his own, actually.

His fingers trail through the air, creating a path of golden shimmers. His eyes are wide, entranced, and he suddenly looks so peaceful that the sight actually threatens to choke Steve up.

Maybe it’s a small thing compared to everything else. But Steve thinks it’s monumental: how despite every horror that he’s witnessed, despite everything, Eddie’s still reaching for the light.

The thought is familiar, a reminder of how he’d felt just minutes before, hearing Dustin and Erica’s triumphant giggles—hope and affection catching in his throat.

He’d almost forgotten that all of this could be fun, too.

Eddie’s fingers keep weaving—he doubles back on himself several times, like he’s trying to draw the light into his palm. There’s no discernible pattern to his movements, no half-formed words Steve can make out—he only sees Eddie’s complete and utter contentment in doing nothing but this: just drinking the moment in.

It makes Steve think of how he used to consider the Fourth of July as a kid. Before the big fireworks show, when it felt like time had slowed, like the whole world had narrowed down to just him and a dazzling sparkler in his hand.

Steve watches on, leaning against the doorframe; he wants—suddenly, desperately—to give Eddie all the time in the world.

But he has to settle for counting out increasingly long seconds in his head. Then he suppresses a sigh, gives a gentle tap, tap along the wall.

“Eddie,” Steve says softly. Then, when Eddie still hasn’t heard, just a touch louder: “Eddie.”

Eddie startles, blinking rapidly. His eyes refocus, land on Steve—but a slightly dreamy, captivated quality remains, as if he’s still seeing an afterimage of the lights.

“Oh,” he says, sounds almost sheepish.

“Hey,” Steve says, smiling. “You doing good over there? You look like you found proof that, like, Santa’s real or something.”

Eddie chuckles under his breath, but he doesn’t reply.

His hand returns to that spot again, dipping in and out of the light like he’s sat by a creek, fingers dragging through the water.

“Y’know,” Eddie begins, so quietly. Achingly wistful. “If it was all like this… I wouldn’t mind it.”

The feeling hits, tugs on Steve’s breastbone. It doesn’t hurt.

He keeps looking at Eddie, at the flickers of gold reflected in his pupils, and he silences the part of himself that insists he shouldn’t have time for this, and just thinks it anyway.

You’re beautiful, Eddie Munson.

That’s all. Nothing else, no qualifications.

Maybe here, things can be simple. Just this once.

Eddie drops his hand. The light fades away, but he’s staring at Steve, like something else has inexplicably been lit up right in front of him.

“What?” Steve says.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, almost a whisper. “Sometimes I just. I just think. You, um—you look at me like…”

Slowly, slowly, Steve steps further into the room.

“Like what?”

Another step.

Eddie shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. Adds nonsensically, “Must’ve been a trick of the light.”

“I don’t think so,” Steve says.

He reaches out a hand. Feels the warmth beneath his palm.

Eddie lifts his hand, so hesitantly. He edges ever closer, until the shimmery trails from their fingertips begin to merge into one.

Until their hands intertwine.

For a moment, Eddie stands frozen, and Steve’s ready to draw back.

But then Eddie inhales. He’s not looking at the lights, not anymore.

He’s looking at me, Steve thinks.

Perhaps has been for a while.

“Yes?” Eddie murmurs, lips barely moving.

“Yes,” Steve says.

He leans in.

The kiss is a small thing, really. Warm, tentative touches—a stumble before finding each other in the dark.

Such a small thing.

But to Steve, it’s monumental.

He feels it in his chest, like a tidal wave, and as he brings a hand up to cradle the side of Eddie’s face, he thinks that the lights are somehow in his chest too, like they’re both swallowing flecks of gold until they’re glowing with it, until the beams’ll shoot out of their fingers, their toes, the ends of their hair.

And here, in this house that’s frozen in time, it somehow feels like they’re stealing more of it, precious seconds, minutes—hell, give me hours, Steve thinks euphorically, give me years—

“Steve!” calls Robin’s voice distantly, and they both jump. “Get your ass in gear or I’m gonna slash your tires.”

“Uh, have a little patience, puh-lease!” Steve returns, a role reversal from all the times she’s run late for him to pick her up.

Eddie blinks, looks as if he’s holding his breath again; his eyes flicker over Steve’s face, like he’s expecting him to pull away.

Steve doesn’t.

A tender, lovely smile spreads across Eddie’s face.

And then they’re laughing into each other’s mouths.

And laughing leads to more…

“Harrington,” Eddie says, but he’s smiling too much for it to come across as remotely serious.

“Just a little longer,” Steve says—feels like he’s back in high school, joyful and silly.

Eddie laughs breathily; Steve presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, swallows the sound.

“If Buckley slashes your tires, you’re gonna have to, like, book it alongside us.”

“Or we could share a bike.”

A disbelieving, fond chuckle. “Steve.”

Eddie breaks away only to lean back in and kiss Steve’s cheek instead—and for some reason that’s the thing to make Steve’s breathing truly catch.

They’re still holding hands; he rediscovers that fact when Eddie grins slyly and pulls him to the door.

“Let’s go.”

“All right, all right, jeez.”

The room is left in darkness, but they’re laughing as they race each other downstairs—and though the shimmers have dissolved, they’re still leaving light in their wake, wherever they go next.