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#in desperate need of Fluff in these trying times
irndad · 3 days
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Hi, I’m so sorry, I searched for request guidelines and must be missing them so if this isn’t something you write I apologize-
Flower prompt heliotrope with Spencer where reader sacrifices herself/or gets shot to save Maeve so Spencer can be happy, even though she’s hopelessly in love with him. 🥹
Little angst, little fluff. You can decide if reader fully sacrifices or just gets really badly hurt and how Spencer reacts.
my dear!! there are no rules yet- i have things i won't fill but thus far the onus has been on me to clarify. i had so much fun writing this- thank you for requesting it!!! requests r open :^) wc: 1.1k
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“Is Maeve okay?”
It’s the first thing she says when she wakes up from her hospital bed. Spencer’s shaking, a little woozy too. It turns out that they have the same blood type, and she lost a whole fucking lot of it. He’d been happy to give it to her, although ‘happy’feels like the wrong word to use in this situation. 
She had internal bleeding, and collapsed harshly from the gunshot, scuffing her forehead so badly she needed stitches. Comparatively, it’s the least of her worries, but still- Spencer can’t stop staring at it. She’s literally marred by the choice she made to protect him. 
Maeve is okay. She’s in the same hospital, but Spencer’s spent about ten minutes with her- the rest of the last 12 hours of his life were spent oscillating between donating blood and praying to a deity he’s not sure exists. 
She’d survived. They’d both survived. He should feel relieved- why doesn’t he feel relieved?
It’s a stupid question that he keeps asking himself. Two of the most important people in his life are alive, but still in the moment, her blood spilling over him- the gasp of her breath when the bullet hit her- He’s going to remember the sound of it forever, what it sounded like for her to almost die for someone else. He hates that she’s the type of person to do it. To jump in front of a loaded gun for a woman she’s never met before. 
He’s mad at her. He has no right to be- he gets a chance with Maeve now, and that’s all due to the choice she made. And yet- he’s so, so angry at her. Because she could be dead right now. He could never, ever talk to her again. She made a choice that meant that he might have never been able to hear her voice, do a magic trick for her, ever, ever be near her again. How the fuck could she do that to him?
“Yes,” he replies, “she’s okay.”
She nods agreeably, before wincing at what appeared to be an intense ache at her temples. 
“My head hurts,” she says, her voice low and endearing, and his heart roars with protectiveness. “Do you think I could have a juice box?”
She’s so sweet- he wants to laugh, in a sad desperate kind of way. This is his favorite person in the world, sitting up shakily and asking for juice, clearly groggy and so endearing. He almost lost her. 
“You’re okay too,” he says, “If you’re wondering. You scared us. You had internal bleeding and a concussion. You lost a lot of blood.”
It’s only then she frowns. 
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she pouts, trying to sit up and speak to him. “But it all worked out, Spence. She’s okay.”
“It didn’t all work out!” Her eyes widen at his outburst, and he feels like scum. Yelling at her when she’s in a hospital bed, taking a bullet so he’d have a chance at romance. 
“You said she’s okay,” she says back, slowly. “I don’t understand.”
“You lost blood. You almost died. That is not it working out. You have to tell me you understand that.” He doesn’t know why he’s being so harsh, but he also doesn’t know why he has to explain this to her. 
“I know,” she sighs, “I know. But this is the job, and I didn’t have time to get a vest on!”
“Then you wait. You wait. You don’t just burst in-“
“And you would’ve lost the love of your life!”
“What makes you think she’s the love of my life?”
A nurse shuffles by the room and Spencer takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to be kicked out of her room, and on some level he knows how crazy it is to be yelling at a gunshot victim. He pinches his nose, eyes winced in frustration. 
She’s been his favorite person by a wide margin for an incredibly long time. She joined the team as a consultant and he remembers the first time he did a card trick for her- the first time he’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. He was so grateful to know her. Still is. In this moment, knowing feels like time slipping out from an hourglass- like it was almost numbered. Their time was almost finished. 
Maeve was lovely. Maeve listened and she was kind and Spencer really did like her. He’s glad she’s safe, now. But his best friend, his coworker and favorite person- Spencer thought everyone could tell that he’s been in love with the team consultant since the first week he knew her. 
Everything he liked about Maeve reminded him of her. 
And she’d jumped in front of a bullet for someone she thought he was in love with. And fuck, maybe he did love her in some way- but whatever ‘in love’ meant with Maeve, this sorrow, the pain of knowing she’d almost been someone he’d have to remember was far, far deeper. 
“You’ve never mentioned anyone to me romantically. I’ve known you for years, Spencer. She’s important to you.”
Maeve is. She was. It’s all so confusing now. He has liked someone for years, though. He couldn’t tell her, though. Maeve was a welcome distraction from a love he thought was wholly impractical and impossible to love him back— a love that now he has to witness languish in a hospital bed. 
Morgan knew. Morgan would tease him every time Spencer drew a smiley face in purple marker on her coffee cup. He would tell him to just ask her out, and it had always felt so improbable. She’d never go for someone as lanky and uncharismatic as him. 
“You’re important to me.” 
She has no idea how much. 
Her eyes soften at that, and not for the first time, he wants to curl into her arms. He wants to lay next to her in the hospital bed, and feel her pulse beat against bare skin. Feel her pulse and with every beat know that she is alive. 
“I know that, Spence,” she breathes out.
Even though it’s not kosher, not necessarily the right thing to do when your not-girlfriend/girl you went on one date with is in the same hospital, but when his best friend opens up her arms for a hug, he ends up doing exactly what he wanted. 
The team finds her asleep in her hospital bed, with Spencer asleep in her arms. It feels voyeuristic to look at, but Spencer really, really couldn’t care. 
He resolved to tell her that he loves her as soon as she’s healed. With the way Morgan side eyes him every time he ‘helps’ her walk across a room by holding her waist, he’s not sure he’ll last that long. 
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angelanderson · 2 days
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give you what you need
— w. maximoff ☆ her girl au
with only one thing that could fix your morning, both you and wanda are desperate. you know your mommy will usually give you what you want… you just have to ask.
first extra for the her girl series!!I while wanda does have mostly unmentioned powers still, it is very much an au. all fluff (this time) MINORS DNI. cw: inherently unhealthy dynamics due to the nature of this series, finger sucking, mention of (past) spanking, soft dark mommy!wanda. mostly comfort!!!! edited-ish. *not an ageplay series*
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tapping her freshly manicured nails on the counter, wanda watches you like a hawk as you contemplate your next move. the witch has been dreading your impending meltdown since she woke up her grumpy girl this morning. it took a promise of blueberry pancakes for breakfast for you to verbalize that your issue was a poor night’s worth of sleep. unfortunately for the older woman, pancakes didn’t bring up your mood, nor did an offering of a relaxing bubble bath, one of your favorite times things.
tears threaten to spill down your checks as you try to soothe yourself. no longer wanting to sit by wanda, you’ve found the cool kitchen tiles to be more appealing. usually, you always want your mommy, especially when you’re upset, but the sheer exhaustion you feel has you acting out. no amount of appealing offers from the woman has been enough to placid you.
wanda gives it five more minutes before she steps in again; she can’t bear to see you like this. she approaches you as if you’re some wild animal that’s afraid. “dorogaya, why don’t you come with mommy, hmm? let’s fix those tears”, her voice comes out sweet as honey.
you’ve been so stubborn all morning, but the way wanda is looking at you is making your façade slowly slip. worrying at your bottom lip, you weigh your options— you know from past experience that she is not afraid to make you give in. thirty more seconds pass before you make your way into her arms, giving into her. you can faintly here her whisper how you’re a good girl as your shove your face into her shoulder.
as wanda tries to coax you out of her shoulder, she notices that you’ve shoved some of your fingers past your lips. since the day you met, even in your previous life as equals in a relationship, she has been trying to break you of the habit. “oh dove, what has mommy said about sucking on your fingers?”
“that ‘m not supposed to,” you messily say as you continue to refuse to remove them from your mouth. ever since you could remember, which was not much now, you’ve found comfort in self-soothing by having something in your mouth.
tsking, the witch gently coaxes your fingers out of your mouth. she ignores the cry you let out— how could she be a good mommy if she wasn’t consistent with you? she doesn’t let you pitch the fit she knows is coming. “dorogaya, come upstairs now. maybe mommy will let you get cozy in her bed, hmm?” even with sweetness, her tone leaves no room for argument.
it’s rare for her to go against her usual protocols; it’s how she keeps you in check. unbeknownst to you, wanda is willing to give into what she knows you secretly want if there’s a chance it’ll change your mood. when you’re grumpy, you’re grumpy. however, the almost promise of being able to nap in wanda’s room has your brain spinning enough that you don’t argue as she leads you to the stairs. so busy reeling with excitement, you don’t hear her sighs of relief as you two walk up together.
wanting to show your mommy that you can be her good girl again, you wait by her bedroom door, albeit antsy as you wait for her to catch up. you have quickly learned to mind not entering her bedroom or study without explicit permission. it only took two spankings that ended in loud cries to cement the rule in your brain. wanda clearly notices your commitment to her rules as she reaches the top. proudness fills her chest as she realizes how far you’ve both come from the start of this new life.
the soft smile gracing her lips has you like putty in her hands— you love nothing more than pleasing her. you eagerly let her guide you into her bedroom. you don’t pay much mind as she finds some new clothes for you to wear; she has a rule against dirty clothes in bed. while you haven’t been outside to play yet, your pajama top is tear stained and has a dash of dried pancake batter. you decide on the white chair in the corner as your place to perch until she’s ready for you.
too into your own world, your fingers find their way back into your mouth. your sudden push back into reality is caused by wanda’s grip on your wrist. your head snaps up to meet wanda’s cocked eyebrow; she’s not amused. while you let wanda remove your hand, you still let out a pitiful whine to let her know you’re not happy. wanda chooses to acknowledge it this time.
“less whining, milaya”, she scolds you. her hand reaches up getting ready to pull your top off. instead of letting wanda change your top, you impulsively slap her hand away.
you regret the second your hand makes contact with her hand. a red glow fills her eyes before you can even think about stuttering out an apology. as soon as the glow consumed her, it ends. a feat that has you feeling emotional whipslash. she beats you at another chance to speak first.
“mommy knows you’re only acting out because you’re tired, isn’t that right, milaya?” her grip tightens on your wrist as she speaks lowkey, “so mommy knows that you’re going to act right starting now. isn’t that right?”
that’s when it hits you: you’ve pushed wanda over the edge today. you know just how mean your mommy can be when you don’t listen. you immediately agree with her, “‘m really sorry! promise it!” to prove your point, your arms reach over your shoulders to quickly take off your shirt. wanda’s hum of approval lets you know you’re back in the clear… for now.
you let wanda change you like a doll after that— you’ll do anything to avoid the red glow from coming back. lucky for you, she grabbed the sweater you always nuzzle your face into when she wears it. it’s another not-so-noticeable way she’s helping keep you manageable this late morning. the soft texture keeps you like putty in her hands as she lays you down in her cloud-like bed. you’ve always been a sucker for soft things.
“my sweet girl, doing so good for me now,” the older woman coos out. feeling the bed dip, you move over some so she can rest with you. your haze filled mind has you reeling in the extra praise. when you don’t reply, wanda gets the hint about how floaty you’re feeling, “okay milaya, let’s rest now, hmm? mommy’s here with you.”
you nuzzle your way into her arms, letting her know you’re in agreement with her. you stay that way for a solid five minutes as she rubs your back in gentle circles. the sixth minute is when your need for a specific comfort comes back. you look back and forth between wanda and your fingers. so shyly, you finally speak up, “…mommy? um, i want some fingers?” you add on, “please!”
wanda doesn’t understand at first. she isn’t sure why you’d be horny right now— you never are after being reprimanded where her red glow comes out. she sighs, “not right now. maybe mommy’ll fuck you later tonight if you can be good for me.”
the look on your face let’s her know that is not what you meant. it takes all but two more seconds for it to click: you want something back in your mouth. wanda knows the tears that would come had she said no. the reprimanding is silly anyways, she thinks. while your oral fixation is only a newer appearance, she’s sure it can’t hurt for now. she would much rather save her energy for when truly you’re acting out, anyways. so she agrees, “yes, you may. such a silly rule anyways, hmm? you’re being my good girl.”
the praise has you craving something different: her fingers. it’s not something you’ve shown interest in before. but in your hazy state nothing sounds more comforting. what’s not to like? it’s attention for your mommy and a fix to your need.
the haziness makes it hard for the words to spill out of your lips. the mix of frustration over it and exhaustion have you teetering towards irritation again. wanda can see it in the way you scrunch up your face. always your savior, she steps in. “hush, dove. take a deep breath and try again.”
“i, um— i want your fingers. please!” you rush the words out so quickly that wanda almost doesn’t catch it. you’re still getting used to asking for what you what without being shy about it. while she typically would make you slow down, she can’t deny you any longer.
“well, since you said please”, she teases you. she mentally rolls her eyes at the huff you let out at her teasing.
you don’t have any time to make a quick remark back as two manicured fingers find their way to your bottom lip, slowing tracing it. a full drowsiness takes over your body. you quickly part your lips, welcoming her to stop the teasing. luckily, she gets your hint as she lets her fingers past your cherry lips. a wave of comfort comes over you as you wrap your lips around her fingers.
every sucking motion has you falling deeper and deeper into your cozy headspace. the exhaustion no longer feels world ending; it’s less overwhelming now. the comfort you’ve been craving all morning has finally found its way to you. everything she gives you just makes you feel so good!
being the good girl you are, you decide it’s only polite to thank her. after all, wanda does like it best when you mind your manners. “thank you ‘ommy”, you try to thank her, but the words come out messy due to the fingers in your mouth.
“don’t talk with things in your mouth. it’s not polite,” even with you being sweet, she just can’t help but tease you. she giggles when you whine in response. “okay, okay. i’m sorry, baby. let’s get you to sleep now, hmm?”
she sushes your whine, instead going to play with your hair the way she knows you like. wanda internally cheers as your eyes start to flutter shut. the grip of your lips on her fingers starts to loosen as the next few minutes go on. she can’t get herself to start her other tasks when you just look so adorable for her. she allows herself to stay until your breathing has completely evened.
had you been awake, you would see a flurry of red hair moving as slow as possible in order to not wake you. she can’t help but sneak a kiss on your forehead before she leaves her bedroom in order to go to pick some of the fresh fruit you’re obsessed with from the garden as a snack for later. a whisper fills the air as she slowly closes the door behind her, “silly girl, you just have to ask. you know mommy likes to give you what you want when you’re behaving.”
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bigfatbimbo · 18 hours
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okay omg this is so dumb ong but basically, alastor said like vox is powerless without the other vees, right? and so picture like maybe something happens and the vees like fall apart and that leaves vox totally powerless. i just find the idea of a loser ass gideon graves type vox crashing on your couch because his entire empire fell apart very entertaining.
basically, headcanons? smut, fluff, angst, idc this is just such a silly episode type plot
i know i’m not alone, your a loser, just like me
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a/n — I have such a love for oddly specific requests like this. In fact, I just love oddly specific x reader au’s.
summary — After the fall of the Vees, along Vox’s empire, and power, he’s left totally stranded in the reader apartment as their more or less housewife, and forced to live the life of, for lack of a better word, a total loser.
extra tags — headcanons, established relationships, mentions of smut, mentions of angst, mostly just fluff, like you could skip over the smut and angst if you want and barley loose anything
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Vox has never had a lot of free time. In death, his schedule was just as packed as it was during life. From meetings, to live shows, to arguments with Alastor, to any so-called ‘downtime’ with the Vees, he’s never not been busy. 
But the Vees weren’t here anymore, and neither was his empire. That meant, no arguments to mediate and no business offers to consider. Practically, he had no work to do. 
And the part that really bothered him, was that you did. Him being out of a job, meant that you were the main breadwinner of the household. In simple terms, Vox was powerless. And the downgrade from his studio standing high above the rest of Hells scum, to your one bedroom apartment was certainly less than charming. 
He had nothing to do all day, but sit and wait for you. That doesn’t sound that bad for any normal person, but Vox wasn’t normal. And neither was the way he was dealing with the sudden fall of his empire. 
The first week came and went, rocky to say the least. His time was spent either in bed, or lounging by the bathtub, reluctantly petting his shark, Vark. After a while, the comfort of the creature evaporated as quickly as it set in. Vox’s brows would furrow with irrational. Vark, the only remaining piece of wreckage, reminding him of his once powerful kingdom. 
But Vark didn’t know Vox had lost anything. Infuriated by this thought, each visit to the bathtub that week led to Vox promptly storming out of the room. 
The second week hadn’t been all that better. Feeling the need to compensate for the absence of his power, he acted specifically entitled. Not to mention, coming onto you every five seconds, and trying his hardest to act domineering. 
However, this desperate act crumbled as soon as you got fed up, “Seriously Vox, could you keep it in your fucking pants? Acting powerful doesn’t bring back your power, douchebag.” 
The statement should have prompted an argument, one that would have happened if it hadn’t been for Vox’s fragile state of living, but he simply shut his mouth.
Which brings us to the third week. The initial sadness and desperation has worn off, since it has been almost a month. It’s not that he doesn’t crave that power back anymore, but there is a subtle understanding that it’s not coming back anytime soon. 
Instead, he focuses on distracting himself through more mundane aspects of life. 
For lack of his surveillance cameras, he’d resort to following you around with a small drone for part of the day, examining your tasks. Watching you work he’d sigh, you were so productive.
However the drone would only last so long, since it wasn’t the most well-made contraption. At first, he’d really hate the feeling of being all alone. It made him feel like your housewife, or something. Well, he thought, in a sense, he was. 
Reluctantly, and given his time period, he’d do what he knows about the whole concept of being the stay-at-home partner. Although, given he’s never played that role, he’s terrible at it.
You’d come home and his attempt to clean the house would lead to slippery soap suds on the ground, acting like breadcrumbs leading to the task that Vox accidentally distracted himself with.
In most cases, this would be a chalk board where he would uselessly try to plot out his rise to power, once again. And he’d be laughing maniacally while explaining it to you, but he’s very proud of all of his [unrealistic] plans so you’d just have to nod and smile. His ego has taken enough hits as is, he doesn’t need your disapproval too.
However, sometimes, he would really try to cook something for you when you arrive home. This… doesn’t work out well, to say the least.
As soon as you walk through the door, you’re greeted with smoke, and angry shouting. Not at you, however. When your surroundings become less fuzzy, you see clearly Vox screaming profanities at the oven.
“Useless piece of shit,” he’d shout, kicking the oven, and then recoiling back from the pain in his toe. Then once again getting angry and throwing a spatula at the wall closest to you.
“Y/n!” He’d observe, putting on his, now rusty, customer service voice, “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.” 
“Yeah, looks like you needed—“ You cough, swatting away the smoke from the kitchen and going to open a window “—more time to finish up.”
Walking over to him, he’d slouch over and cross his arms, clearly not happy with his failure of an attempt to cook for you. With his new foreign feeling of uselessness, he’d be very desperate for any form of success.
You’d put your hands on either side of his shoulders and rub comfortingly, “What were you trying to cook?” 
And that starts the new routine. Vox tries to cook for you, fails, and you come home and help him finish the job.
He doesn’t like being bossed around, even in the kitchen, but with the sudden withdrawal from the spotlight, he’s constantly craving your attention to an obsessive amount, which mostly makes up for his control-freak nature.
With this, however, that means that every second you’re off work and NOT at home with him, he throws a huge hissy fit. 
Probably leading to a big argument where, after a short time of pouting, Vox realizes that he probably doesn’t want to loose the only person he has left. So he smooth talks his way back, before you even consider kicking him out.
But every morning before work it’s a struggle too, “Vox, get off of me, I have to go to work.” 
“Call off, then.” “No?” “Oh, so you don’t fucking love me enough.” “Do you not love this roof over your head? I’m going to work.” “…pick up some gatorade on your way home.” 
Along with being desperate for attention, as could be assumed he’s intensely and apologetically clingy. Well, unapologetic in the sense that he doesn’t change he’s behavior after you call him out on it. He does get very defensive when you tease him.
Like even when it’s undeniable. He’d have his head laying in your lap, lazily playing with your fingers while he talks about whatever his ‘evil plan to rise to power’ of the week is. And you tell him you needed to go to the bathroom and he would move and just tell you to “Wait until i’m finished talking.”
Sex wise, he would try really, irritatingly hard to be super dominant to compensate for his loss of power in society. But on the flip side, because of his vulnerable state, he’d probably naturally find himself being more easily submissive in bed. 
But with that, I think he’d have less of a tolerance for overly degrading words. Because usually, I would definitely say he has a thing for degrading and humiliation, but his ego was [very high but] fragile before, and in the light of recent events, it’s completely fucking shattered.
It’s really just embarrassment at the end of the day. His self entitlement isn’t gone, it’s just been replaced by a “aw boohoo, i’m so much better than this :(“ mindset.
So he needs praise more than anything. In fact, a lot of what he does, or rather tries to do, around the house is to get your approval. To not fail at something, and it’s been a while. 
Now, smut aside, like I said, there’d be a lot more vulnerability on Vox’s part. Because, after all, he’d probably be in the worst headspace of his entire existence.
It’s safe to assume, being a white man in the fifties, that he didn’t have it rough in life. And up until the fall of the Vees, dying was one of the best things that ever happened to him. 
For the first time, in all of the years he’s lived and died, he isn’t overtly privileged, and it’s driving him crazy. His immense power has been replaced by a terrible craving for success. His fear of failure and rejection have been heightened, and he’s almost as obsessed with getting his empire back, as he is dependent on you. 
But with no real way to achieve his goal, and barely any drive, he is left being, for lack of a better word, a washed up loser. A hazbin, if you would!
But he does miss the Vees. In fact, he misses them a lot. Occasionally you have to comfort him at night when he’s thinking of them, or when he sees something that reminds him of the two of them. 
I also think he’d go through days where he’d either be super prone to arguments and super touchy, or you see a noticeable change in this behavior because he just doesn’t care as much anymore.
Silly Vox though, which you’d see a lot more of now that he isn’t a CEO, would be very present.
You’d get home from work and he’d be super siked because he picked out a movie to watch with you. (Goodfellas, American Psycho, or Joker, it is never not one of these movies.) 
But he has a lot of time when your away, and that’s kinda dangerous for a guy like him, especially in a closed space since he’s too ashamed to show his face to the outside world.
You’d walk through the door and he’d show you some new tech he swears will allow you both to “rise through the ranks of hell!” But you’d take one look and realize, “Vox did you take apart our microwave to make that??” 
Most days, he’d go through weird cycles of trying to clean the house and cook, basically doing what he knows he’s ’obligated’ to do as your sitcom housewife, but then other days, literally trashing the place.
You’d come home find glass shattered all across the, almost flooded, floor. Then you’d look up to find Vox lowering Vark into a clearly homemade tank.
He’d reassure you and be like, “No, now we have our tub back! All thanks to me and my genius brain, your welcome—“
“Where’d you get the glass, Vox,” you’d sigh, massaging your forehead because of the new, growing headache. Not to your surprise, but definitely your disappointment, the response would be, “…The bedroom windows.”
Also, this is off topic but he’d have one of those “kiss me, i’m irish” aprons. 
I think that Vox at rock bottom has such a fun ‘beginning of season character arc’ vibe to me. Like watch as he goes from the world’s worst housewife, to semi-competent over the span of a few months.
It reminds me of peridots (steven universe reference) redemption arc, in a sense of vibes alone. If we’re talking from a realistic in-show perspective, end of the season, the redemption arc would not be successful IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN.
Like he would be fully adjusted, and honestly happy with his life. Slow dancing with you each night, honestly getting the hang of cooking, and a lot less complaining. But then he would get an opportunity to once again rise the ranks of hell. And a good opportunity too, like it would place him very relatively high up.
And well… society can take the villain out of the capitalist, but never the capitalist out of the villain.
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a/n — actually society, especially in hell, does not have the power to take the villain out of the capitalist, but I digress. Don’t get bimbo started on capitalism as a social concept because it is literally the most interesting thing in the world to me lowkey.
Anyways, I love housewife!Vox so much, and I will be SO HAPPY to do more with this au. He’s the worlds shittiest stay-at-home partner and I love him.
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annesart · 15 hours
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𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || J. Hughes
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SUMMARY: Y/n is trying her best to make little Em asleep, but as much as tired is she, she's not successful and Jack needs to help.
WARNING: angst, fluff
PAIRING: dad! Jack Hughes x mom! reader
Since the time Emma was born it was harder to sleep for sure. She, like every other baby, has sometime problems with falling asleep, crying all night long. Tonight was no different. Em cried, nothing helped her sleep. And you were already desperate, tired, exhausted, angry, sad, helpless.
Jack usually didn't wake up much, his sleep was more sound. But today's crying, which had been going on since 1 am when Em woke up and continued until now - until 3 am, did not let him sleep.
"Shh, sleep baby, please," you said with a tear on your cheek. You had to fight yourself to keep from crying. You sat on the end of the couch in the living room so Em's crying wouldn't wake Jack. But he was already standing in the doorway and saw how tired and desperate you were.
"Let me help you," he whispered, his voice hoarse, kissing your forehead and took your guys daughter into his arms. He rocked her and little Em stopped crying in about 2 minutes. Jack carefully carried her to the bedroom, where he placed her in the crib. He then went back to you where you were now the one crying.
"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked and sat next to you, placing his arm on your back. You sobbed and couldn't let a wrd out of you. "Y/n?" he repeated. “I'm a terrible mom,” you whined. "I put her to sleep for two hours, nothing helped. I did everything necessary, changed her diaper, fed her and nothing helped, then you come and she stops. She hates me, Jacky."
Jack smiled softly and pulled you into a hug. "That's not true. You're a great mom!" he has begun. "It's not your fault that you're tired and you just couldn't do it. The more tired you are, the more energy you lose and so you can't put her to sleep properly. Don't blame yourself, honey. I'm here, for you two, to help. I always will be, and you know that. And seriously- you're the best mom I could ever ask for for my kids."
His words calmed you down. But you stopped. "Kids? We have more?"
"No, but we will. I mean only if you'd like to." That made you laugh. "Maybe one day, but I'll get a good night's sleep for that." You said and you both laughed. "Alright, let's get some sleep." he said and took you in his arms. His touch was so nice that just transferring to the bed closed your eyes down.
He laid you down, and cuddled up to you as you slowly fell asleep.
"I love you," you breathed out.
"Love you more." Jack kissed your cheek. He was all you needed, and everything will be okay again.
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euphoricfilter · 3 days
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hearts for dinner ~ drabble 1:
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pairing: yandere! taehyung x demon! reader
genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship || yandere au
summary: the lust of kim taehyung
tags/ warnings: he films her without her knowledge. smut in the forms of: phone sex/masturbation, cumming on thighs, fingering, mentioned oral, sort of cum play, first kisses!!
notes: takes place before the previous part :D
<- previous || where you can read my other stuff!!
.  . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.
the first time taehyung had invited you over to his house, it took every single cell of willpower to not lock the door and demand you move in with him that very second.
it had only been a couple of months since he’d asked you on your first date, seconds after meeting you enough for him to be entirely enamoured by your mere existence.
the pretty little dove he wanted to cage and keep to be cherished by his all consuming love for the rest of time.
there was only so many nights he could watch you through the camera he’d planted in one of the flower pots he’d given you before he was desperate to feel your flesh against his.
waiting for you to be tucked under the plethora of blankets on the bed before he’s snatching his phone off the desk, calling you.
he needed to be the last thought before you fell asleep, treading through your dreams, following you into the real world. he needed your mind as full of him, as his was of yours. needed you to understand the tight squeeze of his fragile heart every time he thought of you.
he needed your reason for life to be him, to want to breathe his air, touch him. he wanted the spiral of love, pulling the both of you so far into the black hole of raw desire to be the only thing that surrounds the both of you, as he moulds your very own paradise.
even on the nights you’d be sleepy as he calls, he can see the faint outline of a smile, barely there on your lips when you hear his voice.
and even on those nights it wouldn’t be hard to rile you up, smooth timbre of his voice ever so sweet as he tells you how pretty you are. how as he closed his eyes he could see the outline of your body, how much he wanted to mark you as his for the world to see.
teasing as you go quiet, hand palming his cock as he asks if you’re wet. if you’d be a good girl and press a finger through your folds, press a thumb over your clit.
he’d watch on the screen of the laptop, mound under the blanket where you’d slipped your hand into your panties.
he’d have to stave off his orgasm, always such a good thing for him. some nights you’d get a little hot, covers slipping onto the floor, and tae wouldn’t be able to help the ropes of cum that paint your face on the laptop screen at the little peek of your pretty little pussy, the perfect treasure taunting him.
you’d always been so shy, so to have you wriggling beneath the sheets as he tells you how to pleasure yourself made his heart soar, cock throbbing with the incessant want to cum between your walls, the rawest form of claim.
the night of your first kiss— that wonderful day you’d finally come over to his place, will forever be ingrained in his mind. how red your cheeks had been, ever so flustered. fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt as you blurt out your admission of never having kissed anyone before.
so unsure of yourself he was convinced he wouldn’t last the night with you sat in his bed, a vulnerable little thing.
“it’s okay, pretty” his thumb had brushed down your cheek, gentle reassurance. caramel sweet words soothing the sheer panic you’d felt.
there had been a quiver in your fingers as he leaned forward, eyes squeezed tight as his lips brushed over yours. the briefest little kiss, teasing you.
you’d chased after him, desperate for more. pressing a soft peck to his lips.
he hadn’t known you’d get so excited, hand shoved between your thighs as you try to relieve some of the growing arousal.
“oh sweet thing” he’d crooned, hands holding both your cheeks as he’d kissed you, tongue pressing into your mouth.
he remembers how you’d rubbed your poor little cunt on his thigh, how you’d admitted no one’s ever touched you before.
you’d watched as he’d tugged your panties down, showing you how to play with yourself. his fingers spreading your folds, thumb slipping into you.
the first time you moaned his name, he came over your thighs, slapping the head over your cunt to watch his seed mix with your arousal pushing it into you afterwards, making you push it all back out only to make you swallow it after.
it didn’t take much to convince you to stay over his house after that, tucked away sleeping in his bed with his head between your thighs, or your hand wrapped around his cock.
because taehyung knew you were perfect, your own version of love slowly forming into the raw sort of need that he had for you. your souls slowly becoming one, with every moment you spent together. because you even met in your dreams.
your life, be it awake or in the world of dreams, taehyung had taught you his way how to love.
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jungqkook · 21 hours
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ YOURS TRULY ! hwang hyunjin
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⤷ in which, hyunjin shows you he’s nothing but yours
SMUT ₊ ⊹ softdom!hyunie ₊ ⊹ dirty talk ₊ ⊹ use of pet names ₊ ⊹ missionary ₊ ⊹ unprotected sex ₊ ⊹ creampie ₊ ⊹ nipple play ₊ ⊹ fluff, so much fluff <3 ₊ ⊹ this soooo random, i know. but i love some hyunjin smut on my dashboard :)
soft moans escape your lips as your ears are filled with grunts, enhancing the warm feeling between your thighs. you almost feel embarrassed as the only thing you can hear in the empty room is your wetness, alongside with the crushing of skin against skin.
but hyunjin does a great job at concealing them, his moans and praises distracting you from the wetness of your center. his body is pressed against yours, moving slowly, but oh, so temptingly as his hips maintain a slow, yet desperate rhythm.
“fuck, i love how your cunt feels around me,” he moans directly in your ear, his hand clutched tight on your hair. you moan at his words, tightening around him as he becomes louder at your action.
your nails softly scratch his back as his movements become harder, desperation building in him as you can tell he’s trying his best to keep himself from cumming.
but at the same time, it’s hard for him to resist to your cunt. especially when it feels like it was made for him, and only him. just like he’s entirely made for you.
which is something he likes to remind you every single time you’re together, no matter how many times he said it already; but how can he not do it? he’s so in love with you, with every part of your body, that he feels the need to express it every chance he gets.
and you feel fluttered every time, as if you can’t believe him, despite the honesty in his voice and the glimpse of truth in his eyes.
see, hyunjin is the most perfect human being you’ve ever met; kind, compassionate, a true romantic, a person with a view of the world that leaves you speechless every time.
but as every perfect person, he’s cursed with the gift of outstanding beauty, and the consequences that come with it.
you remember the first time you’ve brought him to meet your friends, their surprised expression still haunting your mind as their eyes wandered between him and you. as if they wondered how it was possible that you were dating someone like him.
you never miss the looks of beautiful, angelic women staring at him as you walk hand in hand down the street, their expression changing abruptly as they acknowledge your presence and turning into one of surprise – and you swore you’ve also read disgust in some of their faces.
but hyunjin never cared for what people thought of him, or if he did, he didn’t find them important enough to talk about them with you.
you, in the other hand, are the only thing he cares about, the sole focus of his love and attention.
in his eyes, you are the most beautiful creature he has ever set eyes on; and he never wastes the opportunity to remind you how much he adores you, spoiling you with so much care that leaves you astonished every time.
since you’ve started dating him, you found yourself longing for his presence every time you weren’t together; but you’re so blinded by your own love, that you barely notice how truly and utterly obsessed hyunjin is with you.
his friends couldn’t help but notice how he always gravitates towards you, how aloof he looks everytime they’re together, because the only thought in his mind is you.
it’s almost exaggerating, the way his mind always wanders to you, the main source of his happiness. but he has spent so much time loving you that he doesn’t remember what it felt like before knowing you.
before he became yours, from his body to his soul.
“my pretty girl– ah!”
you’re brought back to reality as you hear his breath become more laboured, his teeth finding your earlobe as you shamelessly moan at his action.
“hyun– hyunie…” you moan his name like a mantra, earning a soft ‘mhm’ coming from him as his movements become slower.
you almost whine at the change of speed, but he stills his movements as he raises his head from the crook of your neck, his eyes meeting yours as they look at you with need.
your doe eyes stare back at him, his hair framing his pale face as you bring an hand to move some strands away. the small, tender action is enough to make him melt, his eyes closing as he brings your hand to his lips to kiss it gently.
you feel your heart beating faster at his touch, tears pricking your eyes in response. even during sex, he can’t hide his romantic nature, always finding a way to remind you of his care for you.
“baby,” he calls you gently, his own hand meeting your cheek as he notices your shiny eyes, “my sweet girl.”
he melts at the sight of your doe eyes, eyebrows knitted slightly as your lips curve in a small pout; he’d recognise that expression in a heartbeat, and he wastes no time in kissing your pout away as he hugs you even tighter.
he presses his body impossibly tighter against you, his cock still buried inside your cunt as he kisses your cheeks in a tender manner, lips moving down to your neck.
“i’m so lucky to be yours,” he mumbles against your skin, leaving a wet trail of kisses anywhere he can reach.
you throw your head back as his mouth moves lower, teeth nibbling one of your nipples as he engulfs it with his lips. you grab his long hair as he toys with it, tongue flicking around it as you moan at the stimulation.
he looks up to you temptingly, tongue moving flat on your nipple as he stares at your lustful expression; he enjoys seeing you falling apart for him, moaning appreciatively as he feels your cunt tightening around his cock.
he leaves your nipple, adjusting his body so that could stare down between your legs, biting his lips at the sight of your bodies meeting. he notices your wetness leaking out your hole, moaning slightly at how warm you feel.
“fuck,” he moans to himself, before looking up to you again, “this is my favourite place to be.”
he grabs your thighs gently, pushing them away as he widens your legs. one of his hands meet your displayed cunt, thumb finding your clit as he presses against it.
your legs buckle at his sudden action, a loud moan leaving your mouth as the sensation of his cock inside you and your clit being stimulated makes you feel closer to the edge.
“hyunjin, please…”
you beg him to move, hips rotating against his as desperation pervades you entirely. he chuckles slightly, enjoying your body begging for his touch.
it makes him feel proud, knowing that he’s the only one that could make you feel this good.
“how can i say no to my baby?” his voice hides a small hint of mockery, enjoying how desperate you sound, but he himself can’t resist to you anymore.
not when you’re displayed like the most beautiful piece of art right in front of him.
he begins moving his hips, matching the movements of his thumb on your clit as you roll your eyes at his action. moans spill out of your lips, making him fasten his movements in response as your sounds fill his eardrums.
it drives him insane how erotic, yet somehow innocent you sound, and the fact that he’s the one making you feel this good sends shiver down his spine.
“you look so good for me– fuck… so innocent and pretty.”
you moan at his words, looking down at him as you notice him staring between your legs.
his movements are fast now, cock hitting your sweet spot as your belly bulges every time he grazes your cervix.
he wants to look at your pretty face, he truly does. but there’s something about watching you take his cock like a good girl that makes him go insane.
“this is where i belong,” he says, thumb pressing harder against your clit as his hips move faster, “between your pretty legs.”
you try your best to keep your legs wide open for him, failing miserably when he keeps hitting your spot. his touch on your clit is not helping either, sending you almost to the edge as your moans get louder.
“hyunjin, pleasepleaseplease, i’m so close!”
he hums at your words, smirking to himself as he moves down, his chest now pressing against yours. the action makes his cock reach impossibly deeper inside you, turning you into a moaning mess.
“cum for me, my love.”
his voice is gentle, matching his small kisses on your neck but contrasting the harshness of his thrusts.
it doesn’t take long before ecstasy engulfs you entirely, cumming undone around his cock as loud moans and strings of his name leave your lips.
your legs shake as he continues his attacks on your cunt, pounding you faster as he empties himself inside you, hissing loudly as his body shivers in utter pleasure.
his cum feels warm inside you, his cock pushing it deeper as he doesn’t even bother to take it off, body heavily falling against yours.
you giggle at the action, his head pressed against your boobs as he tries to recompose himself, catching his breath.
you bring a hand down, combing his black locks as he hums appreciatively in response. “i love you, pretty…” he whispers, voice slightly muffled against your chest, but you still hear his words.
you feel your heart swell, enjoying the feeling of his body embracing yours so gently, but so tightly – as if he’s afraid that if he loosens his grip, you might fade away like dust.
but deep down, he knows that could never happen.
he’s yours after all, the same way you are his. and nothing could keep you apart from one another.
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starniolosposts · 18 hours
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impulsive
pairing: chris sturniolo x reader
summary: chris impulsively texts you, and it end up with him between your thighs.
warnings: smut, face sitting, short oneshot
notes: hope you like it, don’t read if you don’t like sexual content! ill make more fluff in the future! btw pink is texts
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chris: hi, can you sit on my face??
you: dont know where this is coming from but yes i can
chris: really? like actually? you’re serious?
you: how about you come over and i can show you how serious i am?
chris: omw
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“fuck fuck fuck.” you whined, head falling foward to stare down at your best friend between your thighs.
you let out a cry as his lips sucked roughly around your clit, your knuckles turning white as you clutched onto your headboard.
chris’ eyes rolled to the back of his head, getting drunk off the taste of you. he couldn’t get enough of your pussy, veined hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you in place. he forced you to ride his face until you screamed from his tongue and mouth, shaking and convulsing. he still didn’t stop though, but its not like you wanted him to.
your glazed over eyes found his lovestruck ones peering up at you as he slowly flicked his tongue into your dripping pussy, making your legs tremble at the sight. this was something you had fantasized about but never thought would come true, considering chris was your best friend and never indicated he had wanted anything more.
“o-oh my god, i’m cumming again.” you squealed, muscles tensing weakly as you orgasmed once again. he groaned into your cunt at the taste of your cum dribbling down into his mouth, your hips jerked in over-sensitivity as he continued his tongue movements with vigor.
“c-chris! i cant!” you whimpered, trying to pull off of him but his hands pulled your pussy back down towards his panting mouth, making you sob in overstimulation.
“stop moving. you’ll cum as many times as i say, alright?” he murmured, softly kissing your clit and making you flinch from the burning pleasure. it was borderline painful, but that just made you moan more and louder.
“h-hurts! oh fuck, feels so f-fucking good.” you cry out, your hips now subconsciously rocking against chris’ mouth, seeking out the scorching pain and pleasure he gives you over and over and over.
“you like sitting on my face, baby? my tongue in your pussy?” he lewdly asks while catching his breath, hands massaging your thick thighs that tighten around his head. jesus, he would happily live and die here on this bed, with you sitting on his face.
you mindlessly nod, small tears building in your waterline. your definitely disheveled, your hair is a mess, eyes half lidded, and mouth slightly parted.
he smacks his hand down on your thigh when you don’t answer, making you gasp. he could feel your cunt clench.
“answer me, y/n. or did i fuck you too stupid to speak?”
chris’ words only make you whine and move your hips, trying to get him to just continue even if you knew it would hurt to orgasm again. you wanted it.
he doesn’t comply. he starts to tease you, kissing and biting your inner thighs but not going to where you want him.
you groan in frustration, body trembling with need as your chest heaves with heavy breaths. your pussy clenches around nothing, and you know he can tell his teasing is affecting you by the smirk on his glistening lips.
“what is it, y/n? did i really fuck you stupid? use your words.”
you glare down at him as your pleasure fades away, but the constant throb of need is there. “chris.” you grumble, sighing as he kisses your thigh.
“there ya go, atta girl. now tell me what you want.” his voice is low and causing goosebumps to rise on your hot skin.
“i want you.” you whisper honestly, and you lock half lidded eyes with him. you both know you mean that in more ways than one, not just sexually.
chris’ adams apple bobs as he swallows and then smiles with relief and infatuation. “good. i want you too.”
“then hurry up, chris.” you whine, bringing your hips down in a desperate motion, “please fuck me.”
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(not proofread or edited)
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babygorewhore · 12 hours
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Stay with me
Rafe Cameron x fem reader
Your boyfriend shows up at your door after another fight with his father.
Warnings! Talks of violence! Season 1 rafe. I’d fight ward with my bare hands for my baby. Angst to fluff! Good ending! W.C 1k just a blurb. Couple is just for aesthetic.
The last thing you expected at 3am was to see your boyfriend Rafe showing up at your door with rageful tears streaming down his pretty face. His prominent cheekbones sunken in from apparent lack of meals as he stood outside on your porch. You immediately ushered him in, reaching to touch him before hesitating when he flinched away.
He stumbles onto your couch and your hand falters to your side as you finally notice the bruises and small cuts forming on his knuckles. “Rafey…what happened?” You quietly ask him as he buries his face in his hands.
He doesn’t answer right away as if weighing his options and you wait for him, slowly approaching him with your socks silently padding the floor as you stand in front of him with a relaxed, non threatening stance.
“I got into an argument.” He says between gritted teeth. “A fight. Well-“ his fingers fly to his hair and he pulls a little. “I got into a fight with my fucking dad. It got bad.” He admits and you immediately feel anger percolating in your gut.
You hated his father. He was an asshole. But you kept quiet, not wanting Rafe to stop opening up to you.
“He hit me. Smacked me around.” He flexes his jaw and leans back on the seat. “I ended up taking it out on my wall and he told me to leave for the night. ‘Cool off’” he says in quotations.
You shake your head in disbelief as you listen before storming towards the door, hastily looking for your car keys inside your purse hanging on the wall.
“Whoa whoa, where are you going?” You hear him say and stand.
“I’m going to fucking deal with him,” you growl but then your purse is yanked out of your grasp and he holds it away from you. “Rafe. Give it to me.” You hold out your hand and he shakes his head.
“Absolutely not. You’re not going over there because of me.”
“Because of you? You’re my fucking boyfriend and he hurt you. I won’t let him get away with it.” You try to reach for your bag but Rafe pulls it away from you and sets it on the other chair.
His hands move to your shoulders. “No. I won’t let you get hurt because of me.” His touch is gentle but firm as you stare into his blue eyes. “I’m used to this. I’m used to him. But I didn’t have anywhere to go. I didn’t have anyone else I wanted to see.” His tone doesn’t leave room for argument but you’re not going to easily give in.
“Rafe this is unacceptable. He can’t keep doing this to you. This isn’t the first time, is it? I see how you are around him. I see how tense you get-“
“He’s not your problem.” He replies and you scoff.
“Of course he is! If it’s your problem-“
“No! I said no! You’re not going to take on my problems. Baby girl, please. Just stay here with me. I need you to stay. Don’t leave me.” His inflection turns into a plea and you still. He’s never sounded like that before. Desperate for you to remain by his side. He usually had the tough guy act. Determined to pretend he had no weaknesses.
Your hands go to settle on his waist, “I’d never leave you, baby. I’ll be here as long as you want.” You offer and Rafe pulls you into his arms. His hug crushing as his fingers gently stroke the bare skin as he reaches underneath your shirt. “I’ve got you, Rafe. I’m right here.” You whisper against his shoulder and he buries his head in your neck.
You both stay that way for a few minutes, just holding each other as the rain starts falling outside and onto the windows of your apartment. You pull back and see tears beginning to shed from his eyes and you reach up. You softly wipe one away. “It’s okay. Come on. Let me clean you up…” You take him by his wrist and start to guide him to your bathroom.
You turn on the light and sit him down. You dig into your sink drawer and find your first aid kit. “There we go.” You mutter to yourself and extend your palm. “Let me see your knuckles.”
You attend to his wounded skin, dapping it with saline and he winces. “I’m sorry, baby. It’ll just be a second. Gotta clean this up.” You trail off in a whisper as you concentrate and take a cotton bud. You collect cream onto it and gently spread them over his injury.
“You’re good at this.” Rafe speaks and keeps his eyes on you as you pull out a wrap around bandage.
You smile bitterly. “I’ve had my fair share of fights, Rafe.” You go to decorate his fist with the dressing but he stops you with a shocked expression.
“What?”
You shake your head. “This isn’t about me-”
“No, tell me.” Rafe interrupts and pulls his hand back. You sigh and lean against the sink counter. You hold up your hand.
“See these?” He focuses harder and notices the scars on your own knuckles. “I’ve lost count on walls I’ve hit out of rage. I understand, baby. My parents were shit too. That’s why I hate Ward so much. I hate seeing what he puts you through because I’ve been there. And I’d never want you to feel the way I have.” You choke on your words and Rafe pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him.
“I’d never let anyone hurt you, baby girl. You’re mine. I’d kill anyone who looks at you wrong or ever puts their hands on you.” He growls before wrapping his arms around you.
You chuckle and your fingers stroke his hair, your legs on either side of him while he holds you. Rafe treated you like glass. Always wanting to keep you safe and hidden from everyone. Only because he wanted to shield you from experiencing what he went through. You were his little doll.
“We’ll protect each other, deal? You can stay here. However long you want. I’m yours.” You pull back and cup his face, pressing your foreheads together. “I love you, Rafe.”
“I love you too, baby doll. Nothings ever keeping me from you. Least of all my shit dad.” He breathes, warm air hitting your lips and you smile warmly.
“Now, let me finish that hand.”
Tagging @xxbimbobunnyxx @marchsfreakshow @slvt4jamesmarch @drewstarkeyslut @drudyslut @redhead1180 @rafescurtainbangz @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @gri959 @impmunson @voyeurmunson @rafesthroatbaby
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Note
I definitely need that hyunjin idea with the new piercing and male reader. Like I need it so bad
Hidden Piercing
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Paring:D Piercing!Top!Hyunjin x Bttm!Male Reader
Genre: Smut
Requested
More: Masterlist
A/n:Sorry for the delay in uploading, I had some school work to finish. Also, I will be posting tons of fics next Wednesday for my birthday. Please feel free to send me your requests.
Hyunjin and M/n, college roommates, had been in a blissful relationship for several months now. Their bond was nothing short of fluff, with only occasional makeout sessions as their form of intimacy. However, there was one secret that Hyunjin had been desperate to share with M/n; before they had even started dating, Hyunjin had gotten an eyebrow piercing, which M/n was well aware of. The truth was, Hyunjin was so obsessed with his eyebrow piercing that he decided to get another one; this time, a dick piercing. He had heard good things about it, and wanted to try it out.
Fast forward to the present day, where the two lovers were cuddled up on Hyunjin's bed, watching a movie together. As the film progressed, their affection for each other only grew, and they soon found themselves entangled in a passionate makeout session. Amidst their heated exchange of tongues and saliva, Hyunjin finally managed to confess his secret to M/n. "I-I got another piercing… a dick piercing," he stammered between kisses.
M/n's eyes widened in surprise before a playful smirk spread across his lips. "Really? Show me," he purred, arching his back invitingly. Hyunjin could feel his cheeks flush with embarrassment and arousal as he reached down and unzipped his pants, revealing his pierced member. "Oh my god," M/n breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from the sight. "It's so sexy…"
Their lips met again, their tongues dancing together as their hands explored each other's bodies. Hyunjin felt M/n's warm, bare skin against his own, and he knew he couldn't wait any longer. He positioned himself between M/n's legs, guiding his pierced length to his lover's needy asshole. M/n moaned loudly, the sound filling the room as Hyunjin slowly thrust forward, feeling the heat and tightness engulf him.
The friction was exquisite, and Hyunjin moved faster, his thrusts becoming deeper and harder. M/n arched his back, grinding his hips against Hyunjin's pelvis in perfect rhythm. The sensation of Hyunjin's pierced cock sliding in and out of him was unlike anything M/n had ever felt before, and it sent shivers of pleasure coursing through his entire body.
Their moans filled the room, echoing off the walls as their passion grew. Hyunjin reached down, grasping M/n's cock in his hand, stroking it in time with his thrusts. M/n felt his orgasm building, the tension coiling tightly in his belly. He gripped the sheets, digging his nails into the soft fabric as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm him.
Hyunjin's breath came in ragged gasps, his muscles tense as he fought to maintain control. He could feel M/n's hole clenching around him, urging him on, and it drove him wild. He leaned forward, burying his face in M/n's neck, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating scent that emanated from his skin.
M/n arched his back, throwing his head back, his eyes rolling back in his head as he felt the intense pleasure wash over him. His inner walls clenched tight around Hyunjin's pierced cock, milking him as he came, his cum spilling over both their hands and chests. The sensation of being filled by Hyunjin, feeling the vibrations of his orgasm as he thrust deep inside him, was more than M/n could bear.
Hyunjin felt M/n's body tense and relax around him, the warmth of his cum spreading through his fingers as he continued to thrust. His own release built inside him, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to maintain control. He looked down at M/n, watching as his lover's eyes fluttered open, a dazed expression on his face.
"That was incredible," M/n breathed, reaching up to touch Hyunjin's cheek. "I didn't think anything could feel better than your eyebrow piercing, but…" He trailed off with a wicked smile, his hand moving down to grip Hyunjin's hip. "I guess I was wrong."
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neoplatinum · 10 hours
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hold me tight - bts | kim dahyun
summary: maybe cupid could save us
pairing: dahyun x fem!reader
themes: angst, fluff, tension, use of flashbacks in italics, marriage counseling, reader insecurity, past physical violence (against original male character, not any member of twice), implied sex, some of twice!
wc: 7.2k
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polished silverware, two table napkins, two sets of forks, and knives. a draped tablecloth, and the long wooden table stretching down the dining room. on two ends are two lost souls, once connected with bountiful joy and prosperity. now sat farther apart than the two ends of a colossal ship. barely stitched together by unspoken words and exhaustion.
"what time?" you dig into your steak, back and forth sliding it down the tender meat.
"2pm tomorrow. should i call your assistant?" dahyun digs at her roasted potatoes, a little sweet, just the way she likes it.
"no need, i'll be there." you counter, stabbing the slice of steak, digging into it. pushing the green peas a bit to the left, and sipping the wine. a delicacy truly.
"good." she says quietly, "pass me the pepper?" you look up, the bottle is in the middle.
the dmz line, you lean foward, grabbing a hold of the glass bottle, placing it into her hand.
"here."
"thank you."
the rest of the dinner is followed by the sounds of silverware, and only silverware.
--
dr. yoo jeongyeon, phd, lcpc
you stare at the plaque, gold serif lettering, bold face on top of a black rectangle, sitting directly in the middle of the edge of her desk. your loafers gently tapping the carpeted floor, in time with each tick of a second.
she looks confident, shoulders back and sinking into her leather chair. glasses perched on her nose, a montblanc in hand. eyes a little empty, but inviting, a little too inviting.
"thank you both for joining us today, first time?" dr. yoo starts, eyes taking a slow drift from dahyun to you.
dahyun's legs are tucked together, low heels and a brown suit. she leans forward at dr. yoo's question. "yes, first time."
a simple nod, and a scribble along her notepad. you tilt your head to the right.
"each session with me runs fifty minutes, no longer. if needed, it can be cut short." she says, placing some files away, shuffling paper away, and fixing her glasses. you both nod at the terms. "lovely, could i have you both introduce yourselves?" she continues, eyes back on you and dahyun.
you stare at dahyun.
"i'm dahyun, 26, a fashion designer and a wine enthusiast, lovely to meet you." dahyun stands up, offering a handshake. dr. yoo smiles lightly and shakes it.
"and you?"
"i'm dahyun's wife, 26, ceo and founder of future consultants llc, and a tennis enthusiast."
dr. yoo's eyes stare at you, but her pens moves quickly along the page.
dahyun stares at you, before looking back at her folded hands.
"thank you both, now could you both explain why you are here?" her eyes come back up, those glasses hanging so low is making you mad.
dahyun coughs into her hand.
"we need help." a little unsure, but a desperate plea. your foot stops tapping on the carpeted floor.
dr. yoo scribbles along a new line.
"and you?" the doctor stares at you. you sit up, fixing the buttons on your blazer.
"we're...not the same as we used to be." you say, pulling one leg over the other. dr. yoo nods at that, another line filled.
"alright, now, let me give you some insight on me. i'm dr. yoo jeongyeon, did my phd in human psychology, masters in counseling and bachelor's in neurology. and i'm a lcpc: licensed clinical professional counselor. you can say i'm a people enthusiast." she smiles lightly, dahyun laughs under her breath.
your foot goes back to tapping.
"let's get into it." she sets down the notepad. "could you tell me how you both met?"
--
"what's the maturity date for a treasury bond?"
"20 - 30 years, you seriously have to try harder, sam." you laugh, taking another sip of your beer. sam just grins and flips over a new flashcard.
"okay smarty pants, what are floating-rate notes?" sam taps the index card on the bar table. eyes a little playful, he always did like making you work for your reward.
"they're-"
"stop it ryan." behind you is the voice of a woman, her back hitting yours, nearly spilling your beer. you turn around, a man towering over her, hand on her wrist and his firm grip, stopping her. no matter how hard she tries to pull.
you signal sam.
"take your hand off her." you press down on his wrist, holding his arm in place. the woman stares at you and sam, bewildered eyes and still pulling against ryan's hold.
"fuck off." he spits in your face.
"yeah? let's see how your face looks after this pretty boy." you slam into his chest, him tumbling backwards, foot hitting the barstool and a loud thud hitting the floor. you spot the submariner on his wrist shining under the bar light, fuck.
sam's at the ready, hand on a switchblade, you signal him back, not him.
the woman gasps, hand immediately shooting her sore wrists, shit it looks bad. ryan's still on the group, and then he shoots up. hands at the ready to land a punch, weak form though. you sidestep him, letting him fall forward.
"daddy can't pay to fix your crooked nose?" you smirk at him, taunting him to do anything. his eyes ablaze as he tries again. what a foolish boy.
you let him try and land a left hook, before you start punching his jaw, one good liver punch and he topples over. damn, your jaw hurts too, men like him throw too much of their power into their punches.
"fuck, sam." you groan to your friend, hand trying to pop your jaw back into place. you do, letting out a low shout, before getting your stuff.
stay too long and then he'll call the cops, the last thing you need is another fine print on your academic file. you stumble forward, feeling blood dripping down the side of your head, cheeky bastard, he had rings on.
you barely manage to push the bar door, string of curses falling out of your lip, the cold air immediately frosting your breath. damn it all, and you left your beer half finished.
"excuse me!" the woman's voice carries from the door, and you can see her, urgently trying to get to you. "thank you so much back there."
she's trying to offer you some napkins from her clutch, all you can do it hope that liver punch suckered him to stay on the ground long enough for you to dissapear.
"you have anyone safe?"
"safe?"
you gesture a bit. "like a friend maybe? did you come alone?"
you lean to the side trying to get a glimpse of pretty boy, but he's no where in sight. a good thing. you can see sam though, shoving bills at the bartender, and grabbing jackets.
"no friends, i came with him." her hand goes back to her bruised wrist, yeah that looks awful. you're very glad you stepped in.
"listen, i need to leave now. i would love to do the whole 'thank you, you're welcome' pleasantries, but I don't know how long he'll stay down before he calls the cops."
you explain, seeing sam opening the bar door, urgent eyes calling for you to disappear into the night.
"could you take me home, i really have no other way to get back." you stare into the bar, oh pretty boy's up, shouting at a bartender. you need to exit NOW.
"okay, let's go. i know you're wearing heels, but keep up." you offer a hand, and disappear into the back alleyway. by the time you just turn around the corner at the end, you can hear the distant voice outside the bar.
you're finally in sam's beater car, an old hand-me-down from his grandma, with the girl from the bar in the backseat.
she keeps watching you from the mirror.
"where do you live?" you pull out of the back lot, she's still soothing her bruised wrist.
"eleanor court, upper east side." damn shit, of course she's rich too, loaded with daddy's money just like that dude you suckered punched. how you always manage being at the hands of rich people, you hope to find out soon, because this sucks.
the drive's pretty silent, sam's got his old 80s mixtapes playing from the car radio. and he's humming along as he taps on his passenger door, you're glad that at least one of you has a car.
"woah..." sam brings you out of your thinking. woah is correct, even sam can see it.
colonial style homes the size of manors down the perfectly paved roads. long outdoor lamp lights lining the street. lush bushes and trees lining the sides of the house. not a single police car in sight, you can even see fountains spouting water from a statue.
what a bunch of crap.
"dude, she's asleep." sam taps your shoulder, you quickly put his car in park. looking at her from the rear view, damn she is asleep, jacket covering her torso but her head leaning against the window.
damn, damn, damn.
one wrong HOA member being curious, and you can easily be thrown in jail for the rest of your life. you open your door, rushing to the backseat. opening the door, and placing your hand against her head to keep her body from falling out of the car.
"miss, we're home." she just curls into your hand. "sam, help me hold her up." he nods, using his bodyweight as a rest for the girl's body. you begin searching through her clutch, hopefully she has an id inside.
"kim dahyun.....501 eleanor court." you shove the id back into her clutch. "sam move." you grab a hold of her body, picking her body up. wrapping the jacket and clutch over top of her.
"stay in the car. i'll bring her in." you began walking down the eerily quiet neighborhood, goodness rich people are so pretentious. you struggle to open the gate. then you hear a low mechanic voice.
"hello, who are you?"
"hi, i'm just here to drop off a kim dahyun. she had an issue with some guy at the bar, and she needed someone to take her home." you speak into it, a clicking noise and then the metal box goes silent.
the large metal gates open, you step in, walking up to the front porch, pillars lining the wide entrance.
goodness, you need to get out of this neighborhood. the large wooden door opens and you see two people, a suited man and a maid. of course.
"miss dahyun?" the maid begans fussing over her, hand on her cheek, "oh my!" a loud gasp at the bruised wrist. you drop her into the leather couch.
"what happened?" the butler asks you, offering a towel at your dried blood.
you try your best to keep yourself from dirtying the house, both of them keep staring at you though.
"uh, some guy at the bar, ryan. he kept bruising her wrist, so i had to step in." you point at your head. the butler nods, and the maid begins inspecting the bruise.
"i told miss dahyun to stop seeing him." the butler explains, placing the jacket to cover her.
you nod, so this wasn't even the first time. the maid returns with soothing cream, applying the ointment over her bruised wrists. you stand idly by the couch, a little confused with what to do here.
you stare at dahyun's face, she's rather pretty is what you land on, before the man's voice brings you out of your focus.
"let me offer you a new shirt." you look down, and it does look like you just got into the ring with rocky, blood-dried splotches all over. the butler disappears before you can even say no.
with a folded new shirt, linen and italian, goodness these people have too much money, you shuffle into a bathroom.
changing into it quickly, eyeing all the towels and expensive soaps on the counter. you fix yourself up and exit, seeing the butler and maid still crowding around the girl.
"i, i really should leave. i'm sorry." the butler and maid are still trying to get you to stay, to offer some reward, but really all you want to do is leave this hellscape. unfamiliar faces, with unfamiliar mannerisms, its all too much.
--
"she saved me from a sleazy guy at a bar." dr. yoo jots it down.
"and you?"
"i, i guess i did?"
"you guess?"
"i, yes, i saved her from the sleazy guy." dr. yoo nods.
the ticking sound comes back clearer in your ear. the repetitive ticking feels like tumbling down a hill, imminent and quick swift death.
"let's move on then, how did you two start dating?"
"dahyun was insistent on paying me back for the bar, kept telling me she needed to." you offer.
dr. yoo nods, another scribble along the notepad. then she pulled the file from her desk, and two separate questionnaires werefilled out.
"and it says here, you both attended the same university." ever since dahyun found out you two attended the same university, she began urging you for dinner.
you tried very hard to say no, but in the quad, down the main academic path. she just kept finding you, like a needle in a haystick, she always managed to pick you out from the hundreds of students.
if she wasn't so nice about it, you might have considered it creepy.
"yes, brown." you nod.
"lovely school, my friend's alma mater." dr. yoo comments and lifts her head once more from the notepad.
"how's your sex life?"
you see dahyun's feet uncross and cross again. while you start tapping your foot again.
"we haven't done it," dahyun begins, "in a long while."
dr. yoo nods, and turns to you. "how does that make you feel?"
"i'm not sure."
dr. yoo nods again, dahyun's feet uncross and cross again. the clock's still ticking on the wall.
you are sure it's non-judgmental, it just makes you aggravated, like you're being lectured on how to love.
dahyun can't remember the last time you two have cherished each other. dinner's filled with delicious food, to cover the absence of enticing conversation.
being married to the point of small talk, has drained you both more than you wanted to admit.
"this is still the first session, so let's start with simple exercises. try and vocalize your appreciation for each other. this can be as simple as: i appreciate you doing the dishes today. remember, speaking the unspoken words can change your relationship for the better." dr. yoo stands up, offering you both a handshake and walking you both out her office.
--
"i have to get back to work." you comment, letting dahyun walk in front of you. she nods at that, you both are busy people, even though it's important to try and fix your breaking relationship, you both have jobs to do.
"i'll see you for dinner?" she says as you open her car door, holding a hand over her head as she sits.
"yes, dinner." she nods at you, wanting you to say more. you want to as well, a little unsure.
"thank you, for being here today." she starts, staring up into you, you smile lightly back at her, dahyun's still got that warm eye smile that makes your heart burst.
"you as well dahyun." you lean your head down a bit, "charlie, get her to her office safely." he nods from the rear view. and with that you close her door. watching the car roll away from the sidewalk.
it's weird to have to see a professional for marriage counseling, but in your heart, you do want to fix things with dahyun.
sweet dahyun who is always so concerned with everyone's wellbeing; often neglecting her own. the rest of the afternoon, you try and focus on work, feeling downright awful about how your relationship has disintegrated.
--
"dahyun? i'm home." you enter the brownstone, a little more excited to be home. she's in the kitchen, an adorable brown bear apron over top.
"hey, i'm making pasta tonight." she's smiling.
"need help?"
"no, i should be good. could you set the table?" you leave the kitchen, entering the wine pantry, grabbing one that you know she loves. as well as two glasses, a gift from her parents.
dahyun's walking out with bowls of pasta, surprised to see the bottle in hand.
you begin pouring them into the two glasses, passing one to her, she thanks you quietly, placing down the bowls, and returning to the kitchen. you follow after her, grabbing knives and forks and napkins.
she's busy with another dish, and you hum to yourself, cleaning the silverware while waiting for her.
"damn it. fuck fuck fuck." dahyun's hand jerks back against the pot, her hand instantly going to hold it. you drop the silverware in the sink, quick strides towards her. she burned herself with the pot.
"dahyun, let me see." there are tears in her eyes, and she's shaking her head, she's always been so dismissive of her own pain. you take her hand gently, looking at it. it's definitely bad, red skin over top, hot to the touch. "let's run it under cold water, okay?"
she nods, even though there's tears in her eyes, and all she wants to do is just shrink into herself.
you run the water cold, feeling for it before letting it run over her burned finger. the tears in her eyes are still there, threatening to spill out.
then dahyun cries out. "i'm so stupid, i can't even cook a simple dinner." her tears are falling, much like the water over the hurt finger. like letting the pain rain out from her heart.
"oh dahyun, no you aren't stupid, you never were." you hug her tightly, letting her head fall to your shoulders, quietly crying against your shirt. she cries even harder at that, an anguish cry out for help,
you feel your own tears spring up. how you hate seeing dahyun cry.
"how is it?" you ask, pulling her away, looking at the finger under the water. it's less red, still there but it looks better.
"hurts." she pouts.
"let me go grab some ointment, stay here okay?" you leave, turning down the hallway to the bathroom, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for ointment cream to sooth the pain.
you return quickly, gently dabbing the cream over her finger with a q-tip. letting out a low hiss, and you apologize quickly, letting her relax a bit before continuing to spread it around.
"okay?" you step back, throwing away the q-tip.
"it's good, thank you." then she slips away to finish dinner. you stand by letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding, with every bit of your heart, you hope that dahyun wants to work this out as much as you do.
--
"hello, come on in." dr. yoo's now a familiar face, always a warm if not stoic face. never showing signs of disinterest or much of an opinion, you begin to wonder what it takes to be a professional therapist.
"thank you." you let dahyun ahead of you, her sitting in the left armchair, while you sit on the right. fixing your blazer as you sit with one leg over the other. eyes watching dr. yoo in anticipation.
"how are you both doing?" she starts, that same montblanc in hand, a new shirt, dark blue and glasses hanging on her nose.
dahyun looks to you.
"we're doing okay." you offer, a little smile on your face.
"and you?" dr. yoo turns her head towards dahyun.
"we're doing better." dahyun fiddles with the band-aid over her finger. your eyes linger on it, a reminder of the small act of affection.
"lovely, last time you both mentioned that sexual intimacy had not happened in some time. has that changed since our last session?"
dahyun coughs into her hand, sinking into her armchair. you look away from her.
"no, it hasn't changed." dahyun speaks softly, like she's confessing a sin. you fold your hands over each other.
dr. yoo nods, another line written.
"how is work-life balance for you two?" dr. yoo stares into you, you sit up again.
"it's fine, the normal 9-6pm work day." dr. yoo jots that down. the clock continues to tick in your ears.
"what about you?" dahyun stares at the floor.
"it's okay, usually after work i'll unwind with some wine or television series." dahyun's always been so absorbed with her dramas, often asking you to join her to watch them. you often decline with the pre-tense of overflowing work from the day.
"ah yes, you mentioned you are a wine enthusiast." dahyun nods, wine has always been something she indulged in, you don't share the same love for the drink. finding it all a bit too much for yourself.
"could you tell me how that started?" your eyes go wide a bit, you never bothered to ask dahyun that, just assuming she's always enjoyed it.
"my late father used to own a winery, when i was able to start drinking he started training me as a sommelier." you knew of mr. kim's obsession with wine.
multiple wine cellars across his basement, walls lined with rows of wooden aisles, each row lined with bottles filling the basement. often times you snuck into the basement with dahyun sharing kisses and giggles away from the prying eyes of her parents.
"sorry to hear that mrs. kim, that's lovely to hear that you still has a passion for wine." dr. yoo continues, letting the words fly across the notepad. you uncross and cross the other leg over.
"and you mentioned you were a tennis enthusiast, how did that start?" dr. yoo's eyes are still on the notepad, pen quickly running across the page. you lean forward a bit.
"my friend sam, used to sneak us into the tennis bubble after work, when all the people left the country club. and we would play for hours." dr. yoo nods, more lines filling across the page.
"you never told me it was because of sam, you said it was just a hobby you had." dahyun comments, eyes on you, a little suprised at the conversation.
"i couldn't afford tennis equipment, too expensive." you explain.
dr. yoo continues to write as you and dahyun talk.
"but all those times you came to the country club, you offered to pay for the tab." dahyun leans into you a bit, you let your eyes wander over the name plaque on dr. yoo's desk.
"had to work overtime to pay it off." dahyun sinks back into her chair.
"and dahyun, you seem suprised, how does this make you feel?"
she looks back at her hands.
"i feel awful, i didn't know it costed that much for you." you return your gaze to her, watching the anguish in her eyes.
you wish you didn't feel ashamed about your financial situation, but every second spent with the kims was another jab at your own social status.
"i'm sorry dahyun, i kept it from you because i didn't want you to treat me differently." you shrink a bit, pulling the blazer a bit tighter. eyes falling to the floor naturally.
"and i'm sorry too, for never noticing." dahyun speaks it softly, you barely register the words.
you just nod, letting her hand hold yours. you can't bring yourself to look at her, too ashamed that you feel like you have to hide yourself from the woman you devoted your life to.
you begin to think about the early days of dating dahyun, days filled with anticipation of seeing her. constantly checking your account for how much you could expend on your paycheck, often stretching it for a simple date.
often on the weekends, the kim's visited the country club, the managers all fussing over them, pampering them with free items, as if the rich needed more free item, it used to make you angry.
but never dahyun, a sweet girl built upon integrity and honesty, always offering to pay. treating you with respect that most members of the country would never do, them often throwing towels or other trash at you to pick up. and with gritted teeth, you always do, remembering you needed this job.
"so you both met often at the country club?" dr. yoo cuts into your thinking, pulling you out of your memories. one's that are filled with happiness and anger, all in the same bunch. anger at the rich, but happiness at seeing that beautiful smile in person.
"yes, i worked there, and dahyun's family were well known members there." you explain, squeezing dahyun's hand in yours.
--
"2 o'clock, the kims." your head snaps up from the tennis magazine you're reading. and there you can see your supervisor and your supervisor's supervisor crowding around the kim's.
especially dahyun's mother, she was always more prone to fawning at the attention that the staff would shower them in.
"stand up!" you read from your supervisor's mouth, then he goes back to smiling fakely at the kim's probably hoping to pick at their pockets later when they're far too tipsy from all the champagne they bathe in.
"one day i'm going to strangle him." you side whisper to sam as you both bow at the family.
"not if i get to him first." sam side whispers back, smiling at the kim's. continue to bow at them as they walk across the lobby to the courts. squeaky new tennis shoes on the marble floor.
"hey! you work here!" that familiar voice., you've been trying to avoid her since she found you in the quads hanging out with sam. insistently trying to get you to let her pay you back for the bar.
"hi miss, glad to see you are doing better." sam walks away, citing a need for a bathroom break, but you know better with the way he playfully walks away.
"you still haven't said yes to letting me pay you back."
"because you don't have to pay me back, i just did a nice deed."
"and you should be rewarded." you just sink back into your stool. letting her lean over the desk. "well as kim dahyun, a prized patron here, i order you to follow me to the courts."
"the courts?"
"yes, i want to play." you stand up, heading into the back to get that signature tennis racket that she loves so much, specific engraving of her name etched on the neck of the racket. "grab another one!" she shouts from the desk. you grab a generic one, one that still costed way more than a month's paycheck. placing both racquets under your arm.
"here's what we're going to do, three games, if i win three, i get to pay you back for the bar, dinner on me.
"miss dahyun, that really isn't neccessary."
"it's my wish, and you can't deny a patron's wish here."
so you get beaten, pretty badly, 0 - 3. with you sweating and falling on your back, breathing heavy as dahyun grins from the other side of the court. letting out a loud laugh.
"dinner on me, i'll drag you there myself if i have to!" dahyun's still bouncing a tennis ball with her racket while you recover your breath, all you can do is lift an arm to give her a thumbs up.
--
"well i am afraid our time is up for today, please schedule a session again soon." dr. yoo offers a light smile, and walks you both out of the door. letting the heavy door close behind you. you look at dahyun, she hasn't looked at you since the confession.
you walk her to her car, "dahyun, i really am sorry for hiding it from you. i just didn't want money to affect us."
she stares at your blazer, it's buttoned, the same button she stitched on a couple weeks ago.
"but it does, doesn't it?"
"money?" you stop to think about it, as much as you tried to let it not be a determining factor in your relationship with dahyun.
it really does bleed into your relationship, leaving you paralyzed with fear that she'll leave you.
when you first met the kim's for an official dinner introduced as dahyun's girlfriend, you spent hours with sam trying to find a decent hand-me-down outfit for the dinner.
they were not impressed to say the very least, you had no proper dinner manners. confused your soup spoon with the dessert spoon. nearly knocking wine onto mr. kim.
"i think it did, for a very long time." you open the door for dahyun, letting her in, hand covering her head as she sits inside. you walk over to the driver's side, sitting inside. "i wanted to prove myself to your family, but mostly to you."
"you didn't need to prove anything to me." she says, hands gently grabbing yours. you feel your heart sink a bit.
"it sucked, seeing all your friends get gifted lavish trips and designer bags, while all i could afford to do was cook you homemade dinners." you explain, thinking back your university days, meeting dahyun's friend.
"but that's what they didn't have." she counters. "all the homemade gifts, it was just gifts with enough value to hold each other over."
you really did try your best, with limited budget and often asking for favors. you did your best to offer the best anniversary, valentine's, and birthday gifts.
all of which were intended to express your love for her, spending hours decorating homemade cakes, learning how to cook dinners for two. renting cars to go on road trip, all of which you happily experienced with dahyun.
"i wanted to be someone you could confidently show off to your friends." you think back to dahyun's birthday parties.
open bars, waiters and a massive table filled with gifts for her. all you could do was stare in wonder at the exuberant gifts, all the while you would shrink into yourself, trying to hide your embarrassment watching her open your gifts.
"do you? did you...resent me for it? having money i mean." dahyun drops the question you've been trying so hard to ignore. it's been plaguing your mind lately, how you think about how hard you tried, giving your all into your work for an ounce of validation from the kim's.
validation that you never seem to get.
"no, never. never you, you were the only person i didn't resent." you smile at her, genuinely, and she smiles back. you're glad you met her, even if the circumstances have made your life complicated.
"for the record, i was always confident in showing you off, because i knew who you were in your heart." you give her hand a squeeze as you drive home.
--
"another hour please, i'll pay triple." you say, staring at dr. yoo.
"i'm sorry mrs. kim, but i have another appointment." she stands up, trying to walk you out of the room, and when the door opens, there stands two woman on the other side.
"sorry for the delay, mrs. and mrs. park."
"no worries, dr. yoo, sana and i don't mind." the two woman nod at you, before sitting in the same chairs that you and dahyun were sitting just seconds ago.
"i'm sorry mrs. kim, but really, we don't have more time today, schedule another appointment soon." and dr. yoo closes her heavy wooden door.
you nod solemnly, "dr. yoo, i'm sorry for my behavior." you explain, a bit embarrassed now.
"no need, i understand. go check up on mrs. kim." she just nods and gives your shoulder a pat, closing the door again.
now you stand in the office lobby, with a crying dahyun in a chair.
you sink to your knees, eyes staring up at her. her hair like curtains to her face, concealing the quiet sniffles and sobs that she's letting out.
"dahyun, darling?"
the tears keep falling, staining her dress pants, you hold her shaky hands. as she speaks to you, holding her breath here and there to control her emotions. "you never told me."
"i know, i didn't want to burden you." rubbing at her hands to sooth the pain in her heart.
"but isn't that what we're here for, to shoulder each other's burdens." she cries louder, a couple in the office look over, but you don't care right now. you brush the tears away.
"we are, i just, i didn't know how to tell you."
"but he, he did all that to you, and you didn't tell me. he's my own father."
"i know, i am sorry."
"let's go home please, i want to talk at home." you nod, letting her walk to the car, following her footsteps closely.
--
dr. yoo welcomes you both into her office, getting familiar with the diptyque roses candle burning lowly on the desk.
"mrs. and mrs. kim, please have a seat." dahyun smiles as she sits down, a new pair of glasses hanging on her nose.
"new glasses?" you ask.
dr. yoo smiles at that, pushing up the glasses. "yes, new! just got them yesterday. you smile, dr. yoo has become a familiar and friendly face with you and dahyun. almost like she's a friend, almost.
"shall we get started?" she looks up at you two, that same notepad in hand and the montblanc.
you both nod in sync.
"so, how have you both been?"
"good." dahyun smiles a bit, letting her arm lay along the armchair, eyes brighter than usual. you smile at that.
"and you?"
"we're doing better, i'm happier." dr. yoo write it along a new line, a light smile on her face.
"that's lovely to hear, could you explain why?" dr. yoo picks her head up, watching you explain how life has been. there's been a shift at home, dahyun and you having more time to go on dates instead of tensed dinners filled with the sounds of silverware.
"we spend more time together, having lunch together, and dinner's have become fun to cook together." dr. yoo nods at that, more words written along the notepad, you share a warm gaze at dahyun. her eyes smiling in that way you love so much.
"i haven't asked this before, but how are the in-laws?"
you immediately frown, thinking about the pretentious man that was dahyun's father. a dicator in the family, ruling with an iron fist and often giving you trouble for growing up "different." as he so nicely put it.
you often remember dinner's with the kims filled with biting your tongue and just letting snide comments go by, even dahyun's mother had no say whenever he made uncomfortable jokes.
"i don't think dahyun's parents liked me much, especially her father." you sit back, continuing your thoughts about the demanding man.
"could you expand on that?"
"i didn't grow up rich, which was the biggest thing he disliked, he didn't think i was a good fit for dahyun." you explain, often remembering the side comments that her father would make when dahyun couldn't hear.
"and did you know about this?" dr. yoo turns to dahyun.
"yes. he was adamant about me breaking up with her but i never did." that you didn't know. you always assumed that it was just sly comments towards you, but never did mr. kim outward display his disdain towards you to dahyun.
you button up your jacket. dr. yoo continues to write across her page, leaving you both to sit and think about dahyun's words.
"understood, do you think dahyun's parents affected your relationship with dahyun?" you think about the question, how loaded it all is, you cannot even begin to explain how suffocating being around him was.
family dinners spent trying to escape into the bathroom so he would stop pestering you about your business ventures, or the capital that you had under your belt. you just shudder whenever it becomes holiday seasons.
fearful of the power that mr. kim had over you, one of his last wishes before he passed away was upending his entire gambling debt onto you.
it had become a hold over you, that he would only support the love that you had for dahyun if you were able to help pay off his debt. it became a huge burden on your shoulders, conjuring up a plan to reach financial freedom and success without hindering dahyun's future.
one that you wanted to support from day one, pushing her towards her goal of becoming a fashion designer, every day you suffered at the hands of her father, letting his debt take over your life, all to prove your devotion to dahyun.
and it hurt, to shoulder this weight alone, you always had shouldered the weight of the world on your shoulders to begin with.
"yes, unfortunately. dahyun's father, he. he told me that by taking on his gambling debt before he died, that he would allow me to marry dahyun." you explain, feeling your shoulders release tension.
dr. yoo continues to write fervently, eyes on the page, but a slight nod here and there. you can feel dahyun's gaze on your face, one in disbelief and utter shock. you turn to look at her, meeting her blank eyes.
more than anything, you beg for dahyun to understand, to really understand where you are coming from. a whole life you lived having to make opportunities for yourself, little to no support from others. fighting tooth and nail just to prove that you are worth it. that you are deserving of success and love.
"were you aware she took on your father's debt?" dr. yoo looks to dahyun, not missing a beat or letting any inflection slip in her tone.
"i wasn't. i wasn't even aware he had debt to begin with. what? sorry. um, what? no sorry, how much?" dahyun turns to you, trying to understand all the information that has just been dumped onto her.
"50 million." you sigh, just thinking about the figures. spending late nights calculating interest, and ways to even pay off the large sum of money.
"50? million?" dahyun stands up suddenly, you stand up too. watching her bewildered eyes scan across the room, trying to control her breathing, watching the clock, watching the blue in the reds in the carpet. holding herself as she walks out of the room.
you stare at the open door, the sight of dahyun turning and sinking into a chair.
dr. yoo stands up.
"mrs. kim, perhaps we should end this session here today. dahyun seems to be shutting down."
--
you and dahyun are standing on both ends of the table, her eyes filled with tears as she glares at you.
"you don't think i recognize money-obsessed? you think i can't recognize my father turning you into him? that's all i can see! our marriage is falling apart and you have become my father and i've become my own mother!"
"dahyun, please, all i wanted was to marry you, he forced his hand, i didn't know what else to do." you can feel yourself shaking a bit, your heart racing as you both stand on opposite ends of the room.
"you should have told me." dahyun arms are crossed as she stares you down.
"i didn't want to tarnish the image of your father. i just wanted to love you, and if that was the final condition to marry you, i would do it.." you throw your arms around, frustrated with all this confrontation.
"his gambling debt costed us years of our marriage, can't you see? all this time you wanted to prove yourself to him, he just used you to fix his own problems." dahyun uncrosses her arms, voice reverberating around the large dining room.
"i thought, i thought it would, make him okay with me." your hands drop to your face as you cry into your hands. dahyun stops and walks over to you, wrapping her arms around you, holding you tightly.
"oh darling, i wish you didn't care so much for him opinion." she softly rubs your hair, rubbing circles into the back of your chest as you cry freely. for the first time in a long time, you feel the exhaustion, sadness, yearning all come crashing through your body.
"i wish i didn't too." through long cries in between you finally vocalize it.
"but you love me? isn't that why you did all this?" she questions, a thought thats been plaguing her mind. do you still love her? do you still have the same passion for her you once declared openly to the world? do you still mean each vow you said to her as your hands held hers?
"i do, more than anything else in the world, i love you. my words can only show so much of it." you lift your head up, wiping her tears as she wipes yours.
a small smile on her lips, it's all so stupid.
"show me." she stops crying for a bit, eyes glimmering with hope. she stares at you, in that way you love so much.
"show you?" you try and stop the tears, getting a clearer view of her face.
"show me how much you love me." she says crashing her lips into yours, pulling you forward, your feet nearly stumbling as you wrap your arms around her waist. "show me."
she whispers against your lips, like a spell, you nod and grab a hold of her, rushing you both into your bedroom. you try and show her, that the passion you have for her has always been there, and always will.
--
"mrs and mrs. kim!" dr. yoo invites you in, a warm light shining into the room. you both get seated, while dahyun lets go of your hand.
"i know last time, we had a bit of an outburst, how has that been?" dr. yoo stares at you both, notepad in hand.
"we resolved it." dahyun says confidently.
"resolved it?" she stares at dahyun. dahyun just nods.
"and you? what do you think?"
"we resolved it." you nod back, smiling at dahyun.
"alright, that's lovely to hear. so to follow up, how is sexual intimacy going?" dr. yoo notes the light blush on your faces, unwilling to look at her or even each other.
"it's, it's um, it's good." dahyun starts and coughs a bit, shuffling her feet.
"and you?"
"it's good. very good." you reply, and dahyun slaps your arm, trying to get you to shut up. "oh i see." dr. yoo writes along a new line of her notepad. eyes reviewing her notes so far, comparing previous sessions with this one.
"is there more we should discuss?" dr. yoo comments, eyes lifting off the page again, a light smile upon her face.
"no, i don't think so." dahyun nods at your words, you smile at her. and she shares that same eye smile that you love so much right back.
"right then, well, these sessions are on a as-needed basis. so let me say this in the nicest way possible. i hope we never have to meet in this room again. although my door is always open." dr. yoo gives you both a wink as she ushers you both outside. you wrap your arm around dahyun's shoulder, a little smile on your face.
you hold onto dahyun just a little tighter.
--
a/n: genuinely had so much trouble with this fic, but it has come to fruition so i'm happy regardless! had to do research on marriage counseling and i hope it is obvious but this is fictional and i am not a licensed therapist so there will be inaccuracies. also shoutout to @cry4mina who listened to me word vomit my troubles with this fic <3 please listen to the song as well as look up the meaning of the song!! stay safe and stay healthy everyone!!
to @saiiidahyunee this fic is for you, hope you enjoyed <333
64 notes · View notes
myscenic · 3 days
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Pairing: boyfriend!jeno x male!reader
Genre: tooth-rotting fluff
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1k+
Synopsis: just a super clingy bf with big puppy eyes begging you to spend the day with him.
☪︎ Note: i've been obsessed with illit lately, so i took some inspiration from them to create this fic! this was originally gonna be a smut, but i changed my mind. >< and thank you for reblogging and liking my last fanfic, i really appreciate it <3
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y/n sat in his home office, surrounded by stacks of paperwork, typing away on his computer. the room filled with the hum of the air conditioner and the soft clacking of the keyboard. he couldn't help but smile as he focused on his work, enjoying the sense of accomplishment. however, he soon noticed a familiar presence lingering by the doorway.
jeno, his loving and ever-adorable boyfriend, stood there with a pout on his face, his big eyes shimmering like a cute puppy. he had a habit of being incredibly clingy, especially when y/n was busy. now, he wore a pleading expression, tugging at y/n's heartstrings.
"y/nnn~" jeno whined, his voice laced with a mix of longing and puppy-like innocence. "please, please, please, please get off work and spend the day with me. pleaaase~"
y/n turned his chair around to face jeno, his affectionate gaze meeting jeno's. his irresistible charm was hard to resist, but y/n knew he had responsibilities he couldn't ignore. sighing, y/n reached out and ran his fingers through jeno's hair, trying to comfort him.
"jen, i know you want to spend time together," y/n started softly. "but i really need to finish this work. it won't take long, i promise."
jeno's pout deepened, his lower lip trembling slightly as he gazed up at y/n with a mixture of disappointment and understanding. he knew that y/n's job was important, but that didn't stop him from wanting his undivided attention.
"but y/nnn, i miss you~" jeno whined, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "i wanted to take you to the park and have a picnic together and cuddle on the bench under the cherry blossom tree."
y/n's heart melted at the mental image jeno painted. he desperately wished he could give jeno the attention he craved, but his work couldn't wait. y/n leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on jeno's forehead, his touch filled with love.
"i promise, as soon as i'm done, we'll have the most amazing picnic and spend the entire evening cuddling under that cherry blossom tree, okay?" y/n said, his voice filled with sincerity.
jeno's eyes brightened a little at y/n's words, a small smile making its way onto his lips. though he wasn't entirely satisfied, he trusted y/n to keep their promise. he nodded softly, his grip on y/n's hand tightening.
"okay, but you better not forget about the picnic," jeno said, a hint of playfulness creeping back into his voice.
y/n chuckled and gave jeno's hand a playful squeeze. "i could never forget about our special plans, jeno-ah. they mean everything to me."
with that, jeno reluctantly released his grip on y/n's hand and shuffled over to the desk, sitting down on the edge, as if trying to be as close to y/n as possible. they both knew that y/n couldn't ignore his work, but that didn't mean he couldn't spend a few moments together.
y/n reached out, intertwining his fingers with jeno's, his touch warm and comforting. jeno leaned his head against y/n's shoulder, savoring his closeness. y/n continued working, occasionally stealing glances at jeno, his heart swelling at the sight of him. jeno, in turn, showered y/n with little kisses and affectionate touches, trying to provide him comfort amidst his work.
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time seemed to fly by, and before they knew it, y/n finally closed his laptop, signaling the end of his workday. he stretched his arms and let out a content sigh, realizing just how much he missed jeno's constant attention.
"finally done!" y/n announced, turning his chair toward jeno. "now, let's pack our picnic basket and head to the park."
jeno's eyes lit up, his smile widening. he hopped off the desk and rushed over to y/n, wrapping his arms around the older's waist and burying his face in y/n's chest. y/n reciprocated the affectionate gesture, embracing jeno tightly.
"thank you for being patient, my dear samoyed," y/n whispered, his voice filled with appreciation.
jeno looked up at y/n, his gaze overflowing with love. "y/nnn, spending time with you is worth the wait. no matter how long it takes."
filled with warmth and gratitude, y/n leaned in, capturing jeno's lips in a sweet and loving kiss. he knew that their relationship was built on a foundation of understanding and support, and that love would blossom and grow each passing day.
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as y/n and jeno made their way to the park, hand in hand, the sun shining and a gentle breeze rustling the trees, y/n couldn't help but count his blessings. he had an incredible partner in jeno, someone who brought light and joy into his life every single day.
under the shade of the cherry blossom tree, they spread out the picnic blanket, their laughter filling the air as they unpacked the delicious food they had prepared together. jeno's eyes sparkled with excitement as he took in the sight of the homemade sandwiches, refreshing fruits, and sweet treats.
with each bite he took, jeno would steal quick glances at y/n, his affectionate gaze never leaving the other's face. as the day wore on, they lounged on the picnic blanket, cuddling close to one another, basking in the comfort and warmth of their love.
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the sun began to set, casting an orange glow upon the park. y/n and jeno found themselves walking hand in hand once again, taking in the beauty of the moment.
they found a bench beneath a cherry blossom tree, bathed by the soft pink petals fluttering in the evening breeze.
as they sat down, jeno nestled into y/n's side, both of them leaning against the bench. the sky darkened around them, the twinkling stars gradually emerging. it was the perfect setting for an intimate moment. y/n wrapped an arm around jeno, drawing him closer, their free hands entwined.
in the serene stillness of the night, jeno turned to y/n, his eyes filled with admiration and gratitude. "thank you, y/nnn. today couldn't have been more perfect."
y/n smiled tenderly, gazing into Jeno's captivating brown eyes. "no, thank you, jeno. you bring so much happiness into my life every single day. i'm grateful for every moment we spend together."
they sat there, basking in each other's warmth and love, cherishing the peacefulness of the night. the cherry blossom petals fell gently around them, almost like nature itself was celebrating their connection.
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51 notes · View notes
thefantasyden · 5 hours
Text
The Art of Resistance
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Pairing: Hyunjin + F Reader
Genre: Angst, Slow Burn, Smut, Fluff.
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Warnings: tension between exes, friends/exes to lovers, best friend Han, some arguing, teasing, unprotected sex, confessions of love, tender sex, hints of dirty talk, angry sex but not really.
Word Count: 5078
Synopsis: You and Hyunjin had already burned each other once. When Hyunjin gets a girlfriend, old feelings rear their ugly head, and you're forced to face the undeniable truth: He was never yours. Maybe he never would be.
Click here for the accompanying playlist
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He was hesitant.
You had never known Hyunjin to be hesitant.
The Hyunjin you knew was always so sure of what he wanted. His touches may have been rushed and needy, but they were always firm in that he knew you were what he needed, and he had never felt an ounce of shame or fear in showing it.
But here he was. Sat 6 feet across from you as you watched him hesitate to put his arm around her shoulders as if he feared he may be burned by the action. Watching it unfold before your eyes felt wrong. He seemed so unstable and unsure in that moment that you almost swear it couldn't be your Hyunjin in that seat.
Truthfully, he wasn't your Hyunjin. Officially, he had never been your Hyunjin to begin with. You knew this. Your fear of commitment had blocked his path every time he had attempted to take what you had to a different place, and you could admit that. But he was yours in every way that mattered. He was yours at 2am when his panting filled your room and his lips locked with yours. He was yours in the afternoons when every stroke of his paintbrush was fueled by thoughts of you. He was yours deep within his heart when he diligently taped over the cracks you'd created because he thought having you in pieces was better than not having you at all.
She was nice enough. Small, gentle, and polite when she spoke. She was so vastly different from you. You who never feared taking up space. You who never fussed over the palatability of your words. You who consumed Hyunjins every waking thought with no regard to how desperately he was trying to distract himself by diving into everything that opposed you. She was nice enough, but she wasn't you.
"Isn't she a peach." Your voice rings like a bell in Hyunjins ears, his eyes locking on your face as you sink into one of the chairs placed to his left, your legs crossing as you sipped at your coffee Your tone was anything but genuine, a look of annoyance creasing your eyebrows where they furrowed.
"She's sweet. Pretty, too." He can't make eye contact when he speaks. He was still too weak for that, fully aware that your eyes were his biggest weakness. If he let his thoughts stray to the way they once sparkled when you looked at him, he wasn't sure he'd ever make it back.
You push the feeling of your heart being torn into by some unforgiving creature down to the pit of your stomach where it settles like sediment at the bottom of a murky river and purse your lips for only a moment before willing your face back to its neutral look of disinterest.
"You must really like her." You study his face while he formulates a response. He could never lie to you even on his worst days, and the brief knitting of his brows and subtle scrunch of his nose was telling enough on their own.
"She's nice..." There's nothing more for him to say, sure that the more he tried, the more he would be feeding in to the intention behind your question. He was determined not to do that anymore, even if it caused the strongest ache of despair to pulse in his chest.
It's as though he can't breathe when you walk away from him with little acknowledgement other than the soft nod of your head without a single hint of emotion to clue him into your thoughts. Any air he can manage stings at his lungs as his mind becomes a tangle of webs running circles which always lead back to you, even as the woman he's convinced everyone he has fallen for slips herself back into his arms with a warm smile on her face. All he can think is of how painfully different she was to the person who has brought him comfort for so long.
It's strange for you not to speak. Weeks pass with little more than "Are you okay?" From him to you even when you're sat on the couch of his dorm right in front of him, Han's arms wrapped around you as you feigned interest in the series he had been so eager to show you. You almost feel ashamed for depriving your devoted best friend of your full attention, but you're helpless as your mind wanders to a deep place within you that yearns for it to be Hyunjins arms that wrap delicately around your waist. The tension was thick and suffocating, and it seemed your dearest friend was the only one who was blissfully unaware of its weight.
"Hello? Baby, are you even listening to me." Jisungs voice calls to you through your cloudy thoughts, and you finally snap back to reality, humming a quiet apology to him.
"Sorry baby. What were you saying?" You almost think you see a look of disgust playing on Hyunjins face in your peripheral at the use of the pet name, however it's quickly dismissed as nothing more than wishful thinking.
"Channie, Changbin, and Hyunjin are gonna join us for dinner on Friday! Changbin is really excited about the long islands." The sweet man's voice echoes around your head as you fight to keep your attention on him, grateful for the break in conversation that you're offered when Chris starts shouting to him from the bathroom about the mess he continually left with his hair products. You're clear enough to spare a thought for the messiness of your friend and how endearing you found it, briefly noting your appreciation for the man who matched your chaos as you quietly make your way to the kitchen unnoticed, carefully avoiding any contact as you slink past Hyunjin to escape the unbearable proximity.
Friday sneaks up on you all too quickly, and you're packed into a booth with the four boys as Changbin rambles about how good the drinks are, paying no mind to the conversation as you study Hyunjins face, his eyes locked on his phone. You knew his expressions far too well to miss the frustration gracing his striking features, his bottom lip occasionally pulled between his teeth as the faintest sigh sounds through his nose.
"Hey, do you guys remember that one time we went to the river? The water balloon fight?"
The question holds thickly in the air and Hyunjins fingers grip his phone tighter, his eyes meeting yours as you acknowledge the memory that had caught you both by surprise.
You couldn't forget that day if you tried. You were freshly 18, sneaking around with the boys when they were just bright-eyed trainees. That day was one of the few fond memories you shared from the short time Hyunjin had truly been yours and the mint shampoo he used to use is almost too real to you as you're flooded with a confusing mixture of yearning and pain, the image of young Hyunjin laughing as you hid behind a tree, causing your chest to constrict with emotions you had spent years learning to crush into a box.
You're snapped back into focus by Changbin's warm laughter, half heartedly smiling along as the men shared their fondest moments. It feels like it goes on forever before you hear Chris speaking, unaware of the silence that follows.
"How's the girlfriend, Hyunjinnie?"
Jisung and Changbin share a look, and the warmth of your friends hand searching for yours under the table is a welcome anchor which you grip with a strength that you're sure you'll have to apologise for later, the silence almost deafening in spite of the bustling atmosphere of the world moving around your table.
"Yeah... she's... good. She's doing good." An uncomfortable laugh follows the response, and you don't attempt to hold back the astonished laugh that leaves you, the 3 drinks you'd downed at Changbins request having lowered your inhibitions just enough to loosen whatever filter you may have relied on if you'd been completely sober.
"You should have invited her, Hyune. She could be my new bestie." You practically sing the words, your voice holding a sickening sweetness that somehow only Jisung and Hyunjin catch, his eyes boring into yours as if the challenge you.
"I think she's probably too nice for you."
To anyone else, it would sound like a joke. It would just be playful banter between oldest friends. Unfortunately, you knew there was a specific kind of venom lacing those words that was reserved for only you.
It's the first time you've found yourself at a loss for words around him. At any other time, you would have found some variant of a witty response or backhanded compliment to cushion the blow, and you'd have recovered in mere seconds. You're almost embarrassed by the ferocity with which such simple words were currently burrowing their way into your stomach to settle in every deep dark crevice of your being.
You stifle your self-pity with another round of drinks and find yourself graced with a welcome numbness that leads to a complete lack of hesitation on your part when Chris suggest you spend the night at their dorm, his concern for your safety having you in immediate agreement. It's not a shock that their are no objections and Hyunjin is grateful that he has been spared the task of inviting you himself, having long accepted that his own concern will always outweigh any rational thinking he may subject himself to.
You've sobered up ever so slightly by the time you're stumbling through the door to the dorm, Changbin glued to your hip as your giggle about something only the two of you were clued in to, the remnants of that joy following you through the rest of your evening as if blanketing your brain in a way that would finally offer you some semblance of peace from your usual pining.
Even the deepest of joys can't last a lifetime, however, and you're forced to remember that fact when you're sitting on the kitchen counter with a mouthful of ice cream, your one vice interrupting your silent musings with the same light footsteps that you'd memorised with frightening detail.
"I didn't know you were up."
There's no distain in his tone like you might have expected. There's barely an ounce of disinterest. He's almost... warm, with something akin to worry tinting the tips of his words.
"Well, I am." You shoot back blankly, fixated on your spoon as it dug senselessly into the tub you were holding.
"You know... it's a shame about your girlfriend..." A strange sense of confidence fills you, and you finally dare to look up, breath hitching in your throat for just a second as you take in the sight of Hyunjins messy hair and his plump lips, his eyes heavy from sleep. It was hard to think he could be anything but an angel when he was the picture of beauty. "I miss you sometimes."
He doesn't miss the twinge of honey dripping from your words, a faint smile tugging the corner of your lips.
"Don't..."
"Sorry, baby. You're right." You hum to yourself, tucking the lid back onto your tub and pushing away from the counter, cracking the freezer open to hide the evidence of your late night affair. "I shouldn't be so quick to confess things like this, should I."
Hyunjin can't sleep that night. He can't sleep most nights when he's fixated on you. Did you really miss him? He knows better than to think you were just playing with him. You act tough and heartless, but he's seen you with all of the boys. He's seen the way you jump to help when one of them needs you. He's seen you lay on the ground to avoid scaring stray cats. Hyunjin knows your heart as much as you try to hide it from him. He spends hours hunched over his sketchbook, and he doesn't realise how early it's gotten until he hears you leaving at 6 am, your boots thumping against the floors. He would never understand why things had to be so complicated.
None of the boys see you for a week and a half after that. Even Jisung can't get you to come see him for more than a moment. The running excuse is that you're busy with work, and it's a pathetic attempt at a lie when there's never been a day throughout your friendship that you weren't willing to drop everything to see your favourite boys.
This is the longest Hyunjin has ever gone without speaking to you, and the ache in his chest is constant and burning. You'd been one of the most consistent parts of his life all these years in spite of how messy your relationship was, and it was to the point where he couldn't remember life without you. He couldn't even bear to think of it. The way he needed you was something that was embedded in his soul at this point. It was instinctual, altering him on a chemical level and he wanted to hate it almost as much as he wanted you.
There's a loud knock at your door that startles you out of your self pitying daydreams from where you've been nesting on your couch, nursing your disheveled feelings. It doesn't prompt movement from you until you hear it a second time, quieter than the last. You still don't open the door, however. Not until your phone lights up with a 3 word request from the person you'd least expect.
"Hyunjin?" You only slightly open the door, but he doesn't falter as he pushes past you and into your living room. His face is flushed, and his hair is messy, yet you still think he looks like the product of some divine intervention.
"Why are you doing this?" His voice cracks briefly, and his eyes are searching yours for some sign of understanding, groaning when he can't find what he's looking for. He's fueled entirely by repressed emotions when he reaches out to grab your face, his lips connecting with your own in a bold kiss that knocks the breath from your lungs, your body being pressed back against the door as you fail to return Hyunjins passion, frozen by your pulsing confusion.
"I broke up with her."
You blink back at him, your face remaining blank as you process what he's said. You don't want to believe that it had anything to do with you, unable to handle the idea of getting your hopes up only for them to be crushed again.
"Oh. I'm sorry."
"No you're not! Do you even know how fucking unfair this is?! I was trying so hard to get over you!"
The words set something alight within you and you're pulling him closer by his belt to plant a kiss that could rival the previous, his hands sinking in to the flesh of your hips. He can't get close enough to you, but his body pressed flush against your own would have to suffice as you force his coat off and his hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your back.
Every touch is the product of years of pent-up anger and confusion, your mouths only parting briefly as you stumble down the hall toward your bedroom. Your skin burns as he moves from your mouth to your neck, his teeth nipping painfully at the skin as if it was his life's mission to mark you, itching to claim you in the only way he thought you might allow.
"You're gonna kill me. God. Do you know what you've done to me?"
His teeth trail along your shoulder, his fingers tugging at your shirt until you help him remove it, his thoughts interrupted by the sight of your unmarked body bare in front of him. He's not sure where to begin with the sheer volume of things he wants to do with you.
"I haven't done a fucking thing." You spit the words out, aggressively reconnecting your lips with his own while he lays your body back against your bed, fumbling as he unbutton his jeans and attempts to kick them off with about as much grace as Bambi. You're doing you both a favor when you take his distraction as an opportunity to slip your shorts off, reveling in the hungry look on his face when he finally lays eyes on your uncovered pussy. He can't think about trying to get his underwear off, choosing only to push them down just enough to free his aching cock. He'd usually take his time with you, always ensuring you were ready for him, but there wasn't time for that now. It had been so long without you that he was on the edge of losing his mind if he didn't have you.
Your hips press up toward him, and he locks his hands under your thighs, pressing them up toward you as he takes your desperation as an invitation, rutting his cock along your slit just enough to cover it in your fluids for a superficial attempt at easing the burn as he plunges into you, watching your pussy stretch to accommodate him as he inches the entire length of his cock inside of you. He should be concerned by the wave of feelings that crash over him. He shouldn't feel so at home in your bed and he shouldn't feel like he was finally able to breathe with his throbbing cock sheathed deep inside your dripping cunt, but he did. The small amount of shame and guilt he might have felt about the circumstances of your reunion is swept out of his mind the second he hears your sweet, airy moans.
Your nails are digging into his back, desperately trying to pull him closer to you as he begins thrusting into you slow and forceful, tip brushing against your gspot with every movement as your thighs are pressed closer to your chest. He ignores your quiet pleas for him, fixated on where you're connected. There wasn't a single thought running through his mind that wasn't about claiming you. Even if he couldn't have you in the way he so deeply craved, he was determined to make sure your body would only ever be satisfied with him.
"You drive me insane. You know that?" He whispers to you, dropping your thighs in favor of planting his hands beside your torso, taking in the look of pleasure on your face. You attempt to hide yourself under your arms, and he immediately grabs at your wrists, pinning them beside your head as his hips speed up, fucking into you like he had something to prove.
"You've fucking ruined me. How am I supposed to move on when I've seen you like this?"
He pauses, pulling out to manhandle you on to all fours, your ass in the air captivating him as he presses into you again, gripping your hips as his own snap into you, burying his cock to the hilt repeatedly, your face smothered into the pillows as you do your best to cover your moans. He won't have it. His hand finds your hair, and his fingers tug at the strands, forcing your head to the side so that he can hear the beautiful whines and whimpers that flow from you like his favourite melody.
You've never finished just from his cock before, but the way you clench rapidly around him has him convinced he can make it happen and when he sees tears stinging in your eyes, he knows he can. The filthy sounds of your dripping cunt consume him as his cock is swallowed by your walls, your moans becoming choked out breaths as your cunt grips him almost painfully, spasming around him.
He carefully rolls his hips into yours to help your ride out your high, and once he's sure you're finished, he's pressing the full force of his body against yours, pinning you to the mattress as he uses your overstimulated cunt to push himself over the edge, barely able to pull out successfully before he's painting your ass with thick ropes of white, his vision blurring and his ears ringing with the intensity of his orgasm.
It takes him a few minutes to find the strength to roll off of you, his mind just clear enough for him to think to grab a handful of tissues from your bedside table to clean you off with before he was settling into your sheets beside you. He'd almost forgotten how familiar your home was. The scent of your laundry detergent, the plush toys that littered your bed. It's all a painful reminder of what he almost had. What he's never quite been able to call his.
"I'm sorry..." Your words are mumbled between sniffles as the dam of emotions you've both been nursing for years finally comes crashing down, and he's reaching for your hand, carefully intertwining your fingers. It's unclear to him whether the action was to settle you or himself.
"What do you want from me?" He sounds hurt. The pain he's been feeling is clear as ever, and you can't stop the tears from flowing, turning on to your side to face away from him as you sobbed. He couldn't handle it, wrapping himself around you and holding you as close as he could, his own tears staining his skin as he pressed soft kisses to the back of your head.
"All I've ever wanted was you."
He's about to question you when you turn in his grasp, finally meeting his eyes. His heart breaks at the evidence of your own heartache, and he wants nothing more than to take it all away from you.
"I'm scared, Hyunjin. We've been here before. We ruined it." You sniffle again, and he instinctively reaches up to wipe your tears with his thumb, a frown painting his features as he allowed you to feel your feelings.
"I can't lose you."
He breaks. The tears are flowing between you, and he's holding your head against his shoulder as you bawl, quietly whispering that you're okay and that he's there. Through all the years of chaos, he had never once thought about leaving you. He couldn't. You were the living embodiment of everything pure and meaningful to him.
"Baby." He whispers, hand sneaking under your chin to tilt your head up so he can meet your gaze. "You won't lose me. You can't." He pauses for a moment, debating with himself over his next words. He has his own fears about being so vulnerable, but in the safety of your room, he's sure he can find the confidence to be honest with you.
"I think... I think it was always supposed to be us. I know that I was made to exist with you. And if somehow we were only made to crash and burn, then that's exactly how I want to go down."
There's no way for you to respond that would do him justice, and you have to opt for your lips meeting his, pouring as much passion into the kiss as you could and hoping he could feel it too.
He could. He always does. He's holding your cheek, thumb rubbing circles on your skin as he kisses you back with a hint of desperation, pushing you just a little so that he's leaning over you now, your bodies never disconnecting, even when you're panting for breath. You're not so worried about suffocating when his tongue plays at your lips, and you welcome the intrusion as it mingles with your own, your combined spit coating your lips as you try feverishly to consume each other in every way humanly possible.
The feeling of him shifting to his rightful place between your legs is another much needed sensation, and you wrap them around him as if to trap him there, scared you might wake up from the dream you were experiencing.
"Baby." He pulls away from you and presses feather light kisses to your neck as he whispers. "Can I taste you? Need to show you how much I want you."
Words won't make their way from your lips, fearing your voice might crack. You nod eagerly, tugging at his hair slightly to convey just how much you needed him.
There's no second thoughts. Nothing could stop him as he moved carefully until he was lying on his stomach, arms wrapped around your thighs as he tentatively licks a firm strip along your slit. He'd almost forgotten how sinfully good you tasted. It was like an addiction for him and once he started, there was no chance of him stopping.
He laps at your clit for a while, playing with the pressure and alternating with sucking gently at the bundle of nerves. He can feel every new wave of arousal dripping from your already soaked cunt. The delicious sounds you make spur him on, a finger teasing at your entrance as his tongue dips down to drink you straight from the source, a growl sounding in his throat as the taste of you encompasses his senses, surrounding him from every angle.
You're begging him for more before he finally presses his finger inside of you, the rigid feeling of your walls becoming accustomed to him lulling him into a deeper sense of comfort. It was something spiritual to have you like this for him. The feeling of peace and pride that coursed through him made him feel as if the entire purpose of his creation was to worship you.
He knows one finger isn't enough, and he has to place an arm over your hips to hold you down, slowly easing a second finger inside of you. There's nothing he loves more than the way you plead for him, whining as his tongue resumes its efforts on your clit, circling the bud and sucking firmly as his fingers massage your gspot, your walls clenching around him as he pushed you toward your second orgasm.
You can't think, overwhelmed by the flames of pleasure lapping at your skin as you tried foolishly to fight back your high, practically screaming his name as it all came crashing down on you, your cunt squeezing his fingers and making it difficult for him to continue, choosing to use his other hand to rub your clit and ensure you got the full force of the pleasure he was offering you.
You swear you've been given a glimpse of heaven. Your hands are grabbing at him, needing him to soothe your overwhelm, which he is equally as eager to do, kisses planting across your cheeks and mouth. His body is flush with yours, and his hands are smoothing across your arms and thighs, taking in how soft your skin was under his touch.
"Hyune. Please."
He knows what you're asking for. He always knows exactly what you need and when you're so sweet beneath him, asking so politely for him, he can't deny you.
"Okay baby. You're okay."
He's careful this time, taking it slow as he nudges his cock into your aching entrance, his fingers lacing with yours where he presses your hands into the mattress. His touch is gentle, and he's pouring every ounce of his love into you, hips grinding lazily against you as he stimulates your gspot. The way you stare up at him with wide eyes and your mouth open slightly has his heart fluttering, and he needs to kiss you again, groaning into your mouth as your tongues meet, your own sounds swallowed by his needy kisses as his thrust pick up speed, an arm sliding under your waist allowing him to tilt your hips up, his rhythm stuttering when you gasp at the new position. You felt so full and so hungry for anything he could give you. You needed to be consumed by him.
"I love you." He whispers against your lips and your cunt squeezes him in response, your eyes briefly searching his for any sign of hesitation before you return his sentiment, whispering your declarations of love against his mouth like a prayer that only he could understand.
The two of you have never made love like this, and he never wants it to stop but the way you grip him has him dangerously close to the edge and there's nothing he can do to stop himself from letting go when you start begging him to fill you. Your words are almost incoherent, and you look like you're going to start sobbing if he says no. He wants nothing more than to make you feel good. He wants to give you everything you could ever ask for and show how devoted he was to you. To his soul mate.
"Gonna fill you, baby. Gonna claim you."
The possessive statement combined with your overstimulation has you cumming on his cock before you can even realise, the throb of your cunt milking his cock as spurts of his cum fill you to the point where it's overflowing around Hyunjins length.
He fucks you through it until it's painful for him and even then, he can't bring himself to pull out, instead scooping you into his arms so that he can hold you tight to his chest, your heartbeats matching rhythm as your breath syncs and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. There's nothing but love between you, and it feels like everything has finally fallen into place as you drift off into the sweetest dreams.
You're both MIA for 2 days, hidden away in your apartment getting reacquainted with each other in your best attempt to make up for lost time. It's not until Chris shows up at your door with Jisung, only intending to check in on you when they see him Hyunjin walking out of your bathroom in a towel and finally connect the dots.
It's no surprise when they force you to let them in, grilling you both for every detail, Jisung squealing in delight when you finally get to telling them that you were together again. The surprise comes later when they tell you that they've all been rooting for you the entire time because you were the only two people in the world blind enough to miss the obvious feelings you'd both been harbouring.
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cyberhopper · 2 days
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Dying Stars
Characters: Mario, Peach Genre/themes: Hurt/comfort, mild angst, mild fluff, pre-relationship Also posted on AO3
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It was minutes – no, seconds – after Peach’s Castle had been returned to its rightful place, a dazed Bowser had been escorted away by the guards, and they had finally been given a moment’s peace amid the chaos, that Mario’s knees gave way and hit the tiled floor of the castle foyer with enough force to bruise.
It was not her own nagging exhaustion that prompted Peach’s knees to drop her down beside him.
Her heart had yet to settle back into a normal pace, and she was still reeling with the afterimages of watching the universe die around her, her ears still hearing the squeals of a thousand innocent star children throwing themselves into the heart of a black hole. The Lumas’ sacrifice would never be forgotten. They had acted with unimaginable bravery – but did it really count as a sacrifice when they had no choice? If they hadn’t acted, then there probably wouldn’t even be a cosmos for them to live in now.
She had a feeling that despite her bone-aching weariness, it would be another few days before she could rest easy. Those screams weren’t going to leave her head anytime soon, and nor was the existential dread of knowing that they’d come within inches of losing literally everything.
She desperately needed something to focus on other than her own whirlwind emotions, but she would have dropped to her knees beside Mario even if that wasn’t the case. He had been through hell, travelling to more planets and galaxies than either of them had known existed just to save her.And at the very end, he’d been forced to watch, finally helpless, while the black hole greedily sucked up the crumbling matter of space. Peach had caught a glimpse of his face in those terrifying moments, and had seen utter horror reflected there, followed by weary resignation, then rebellion.
It had been hard to focus on anything at the time, but now – sifting through the memories – she vaguely remembered him pulling her into his arms, as if he could protect her from the supernova with his strength alone.
Everything; he did everything he could for her. Even when it meant nothing. Even when he knew they were both doomed.
The faint memory of his embrace was coloured with a trickle of regret, because he had never held her like that before – it was normally Peach who initiated hugs and they were never quite that snug – and she hadn’t even been in a state of mind to fully appreciate it.
She could remember how it felt, though, her body clinging to the sensations even if her mind forgot. Mario was always strangely warm, as though a fire burned inside him stronger than anything that could be conjured from Bowser’s jaws. But on this occasion, she had literally felt heat radiating from beneath his overalls. Seeping into her bones.
He hadn’t been capable of feeling embarrassed at the time, so it definitely hadn’t been a flush she’d felt. It was more like the fire inside him had risen up to keep her safe. A rightful fury directed at Bowser, the black hole, the shattered universe, everything that was trying to pull them apart in that moment. A last-ditch effort to save her from the inevitable.
At least, that’s how Peach liked to think of it. Maybe she was letting her overactive imagination get the better of her. Maybe he had wrapped his arms around her out of pure reflex, or in an attempt to anchor himself. Maybe the heat coming from him had been caused by fear or stress or even fever. Maybe that’s all there was to it.
She suspected, however, that a few people might think otherwise. Toadsworth had listened to her lovesick ramblings about the man on at least five occasions, and he’d always been of the opinion that her… pining wasn’t unrequited.
Peach had not liked his use of the word “pining” at the time, but in the days following their conversation, she had been forced to acknowledge that it was an apt description.
She wasn’t quite ready to confront these feelings head-on. It would take more courage than she currently possessed. But then again, Mario had just journeyed across the universe to save her, so maybe he deserved her best efforts.
Another day. Not now, when they were both worn and mentally bruised beyond belief.
Her knees were already beginning to feel the impact with the hard floor when she wrapped her arms around the hunched, slightly trembling man, hoping that her body provided him with at least some of the protective warmth he had given her earlier. His initial reaction to the hug was a slight flinch, causing her to jolt and draw back instinctively, thinking that he felt too vulnerable to be touched right now, but it was with an expression of desperation that he pulled her back, too hurt to be embarrassed.
Peach was easily tall enough to rest her chin on top of his head, and she hoped that he wouldn’t mind when she did exactly that. Her hands stroked up and down his back, passing over rips in the fabric and a rough, dry patch of something that she worried might be dried blood. If she found out he was actually injured, she would immediately drag him to the medical bay. She cautiously quested her fingers over that spot, pressing down gently, wincing in anticipation, but Mario didn’t show any signs of pain.
Deciding that asking him about the bloodstain could wait a little longer, she relaxed into the hug and continued to rub his back.
The faint trembling that had shaken his form when they started was now gradually lessening. Before, she had felt him holding himself up. The silly man hadn’t wanted to make her take his weight, despite being on the verge of collapse. Now, though – either because he was finally relaxing or because he simply couldn’t stay upright any longer – he began to sink into her arms.
Peach had never really considered her own strength. Those who complimented her strength were invariably referring to the emotional kind, praising her devotion to the kingdom, her kindness and her love for helping others. Rarely did anyone mention her physical prowess, and although she exercised through sports and walking, she didn’t think of herself as being strong.
Mario was surprisingly heavy for someone of his size. Dense, like a boulder. But she didn’t feel encumbered, even when he gave up fighting and slumped tiredly against her. Smiling a little, she lifted one hand and removed the scratched, dirty, slightly singed cap from his head. Keeping it in her grasp, she gently nuzzled his soft brown hair, kept in fairly good condition thanks to his cap.
She wondered if he was beginning to fall asleep. She wouldn’t mind one bit, although she had no delusions about picking him up bridal style and carrying him away. Most likely, she would either have to call for help or remain kneeling on the hard, cold floor with him until she found the heart to wake him up.
Face against her shoulder, he mumbled something low and tired.
“Hmm?” She pressed a kiss to his hair. “What is it?”
“...Grazie…” he said.
“Oh.” She smiled; she wasn’t fluent in his native language but had heard enough to recognise that word. “Mario, you don’t have to thank me. You’ve been through so much. In fact… I’d like for you to stay here in the castle tonight.”
“Oh, I couldn’t…”
“I want you to. We have plenty of guest bedrooms and the Toads will bring you any food you’d like. I want to make sure that you’re OK before you go anywhere.”
He responded with something too muffled to be heard as anything other than a hum. She didn’t know what he’d said, but decided against asking him to repeat it. He was so tired. Come to think of it, so was she.
“And, Mario,” she said to him, “I want you to come to me if you need help, or… if you need to talk, OK? We’ve just seen something absolutely unbelievable. Something completely terrifying, and… I think it’s going to take us both a while to get over it.”
She knew he wasn’t capable of absorbing most of her speech right now, and she would no doubt have to repeat all of this another time, but she just wanted to speak. Every time she permitted a lull in the conversation, her ears filled with the Lumas’ cries and the roaring of the black hole.
“I…” Mario had to draw a deep breath before he could continue. “I would like to sleep… for a while. If that is OK.”
“Of course it is. Come on, let me help you to the guest room. I’m sure that we have some pyjamas you can wear.”
He looked down at his damaged clothes in a vague sort of way.
With her help, he managed to drag himself to his feet and walk to the guest room. A large four-poster bed with freshly washed sheets awaited him. She sat him on the edge and tried to keep him awake while she searched the closet and nightstand for the spare pyjamas, but by the time she found them, he had already passed out fully dressed on top of the blankets.
Even in sleep, he didn’t look entirely relaxed. His face twitched with the echoes of dreams, and his singed, torn overalls stood out like a sore thumb.
But she decided against waking him up. The most important thing, right now, was for him to get some rest. Everything else that she wanted to shower him with – food, a bath, clean clothes, (praise, affection) – could wait until later.
However, she did allow herself a few moments to watch him fondly before she left the room. Once he was no longer in sight, the weight of the last few hours came crashing down so hard that it took all of her willpower not to sit down with her back against the door and sleep. Harnessing the last of her strength, she kept walking until she reached her own bedroom. Trusting the Toads not to disturb her unless necessary, she took a leaf out of Mario’s book and collapsed on her four-poster without changing.
She and Mario had almost watched the universe die today. If not for the Lumas, they wouldn’t even exist right now. It’s really quite hard to wrap your head around that sort of thing.
That being said… they did exist. They had survived, and so had their world. She was doubly appreciative of everything now… especially Mario.
He needed care, and she needed something to care for. He might not think he deserved special treatment or that Peach should be giving it to him personally, but she was resolute. He had done so much to save her. The least she could do in return for his bravery was ease his weariness and pain.
Thinking about looking after him brought a little smile to her face, and she finally allowed herself to sink into a slumber that, all things considered, turned out to be surprisingly restful.
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narosick · 16 hours
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✧ ── · · sigma as your boyfriend · · ── ✧
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౨ৎ・┈ pairing: sigma x reader
౨ৎ・┈ cw: general fluff + nsfw headcanons
౨ৎ・┈ note: i choose to repost these entirely because it was stressing me out. my apologies to anyone who has already seen this ໒꒰ྀི ╥﹏╥ ꒱ྀིა
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₊˚‧𓂃 sfw
let's be honest… he probably has really bad abandonment issues
he tries to keep his composure most of the time so that you don't think less of him, but deep down he's so scared of losing you
you give him a sense of belonging, which he has always yearned for
the mere thought of a life without you sends chills down his spine
some days he gets needier than usual because of this irrational fear; he hugs you from behind, asking you if you're going to leave him
of course, you reassure him; you hold him close and tell him how much you love him, that you're not going anywhere
he whispers a small "thank you", regaining his smile as he leans in to your touch
honestly such a sweetheart; he loves you dearly, you mean the world to him
with sigma as your boyfriend, you don't get the chance to feel insecure about anything; he showers you with praises, constantly expressing his gratitude for you
he frequently blushes when hearing sweet words fall from your lips in return since this is very new to him; you never fail to warm his heart
although he still feels timid at times, he absolutely loves physical contact
PLEASE hold his hand when you go on a walk together or wrap your arm around his, it makes him feel so secure
he trusts you a lot despite his own insecurities, there's nothing he won't do for you
he totally lets you play with his hair however you like and lets you brush them; he likes being pampered
but don't get the wrong idea, he does the same for you; i think his love language is acts of service mostly
he likes feeling helpful and useful to you, it gives him a sort of confirmation that he's not utterly defective
naturally, you always try to remind him that you love him for who he is, not for the things he could potentially offer you
you are his safe place; he knows that he can be more vulnerable around you and you won't take advantage of it
he lets you initiate kisses most of the time; but whenever he feels needy, he gently cups your face with his hands and presses his lips against yours urgently, as if trying to merge with you completely
sometimes it seems like he still can't believe you guys are dating, it just feels so heavenly to love and be loved in return
he holds on to this feeling every day as it makes him feel like he has truly found a purpose in life.
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₊˚‧𓂃 nsfw
he probably lets you take the lead at first, afraid of repulsing you with his inexperience
sigma needs a lot of reassurance and validation that he's doing well
you need to guide him and talk him through it in the beginning
he seems to be on the submissive side in my opinion; he likes following your instructions, eager to please
this man is sensitive too, a simple make out session is more than enough to get him hard; he can't help it, he's longing for you
he worships the ground you walk on, you have him wrapped around your finger
his favorite position is missionary in my opinion; he adores admiring your features as he makes love to you, intertwining your fingers with his
he loves and needs praises, and he makes sure to compliment you as well
he reminds you how good you feel and the effect you have on him, how much he loves you and how stunning you look beneath him
but don't get it twisted; he likes having you on top of him as well
with that being said, here's a pro tip!
tug on his hair while riding him. it causes him to moan like a little whore
he wants you so bad it makes him look stupid, he gets off to anything you offer him
sigma can get super whiny and it is truly a sight to behold; he starts clinging to you desperately and begs you for more
how could you possibly deny such a sweetheart?
he will never hurt or degrade you
he can go rougher if you want him to! but he definitely does not want to get violent with you in any way
he definitely kisses every inch of your body, covering you in his affection as his actions speak for themselves; this man treasures you more than anything.
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₊˚‧𓂃 overall, sigma is inexperienced in the field of relationships and takes his sweet time with you; he treats you with upmost care and holds you tenderly, close to his heart. you are his home, after all. ♡
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tatiejosie · 1 year
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reject adulthood return to babie!!! More of Bella as a wretched hell gremlin!!
Chaotic agere fluff is one of my favorite tropes!! Babie version of Bella would be out of control and probably the worst nightmare of Mandrake’s little demons. I haven’t drawn many interactions between Mandrake and tiny Bella, but dw he’s overwhelmed as well
Inspiration for the demon-bullying scene is me when i was a small child and i used to terrorise my grandma’s poor birb because i wanted to kiss him........
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sttoru · 5 months
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‘satoru hates arguments. even more so when your conflicts cause your baby daughter to be upset as well.’
☀︎|tags. (girl) dad!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, angst, comfort. mention of arguments between parents. comfort & happy ending, though!
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satoru hates having arguments with you. he hates it whenever an argument turns into the silent treatment. he apologises and apologises — yet nothing helps to change your mood sometimes.
ever since you got married and had your daughter, you were a bit more sensitive to the smallest of things than usual. it wasn’t like satoru despised you for it; in fact, he understands that motherhood was and is stressful. that man was nothing but supportive to you.
though, your little arguments were indirectly having an impact on the mental state of your baby. you didn’t even know an one year old could sense the tension between her parents.
“mama, mama!” your daughter appears out of nowhere, waddling over to you standing in the kitchen. she had barely just learnt how to walk. her tiny hand reaches for yours and she points at the doorway with her other, “go, mama, go.”
you curiously let your little girl lead you towards where she was pointing at, only to arrive at the living room. satoru was sitting on the couch, idly staring at the ceiling, other hand fiddling with one of your daughter’s toys. he seemed deep in thought. even exhausted and clearly not his playful self.
“mama, go! mama go papa.”
satoru’s head turns to the side at the cute sound of his favourite little girl. he smiles brightly at her return to the living room, only for his smile to fade just for a second at the sight of you next to her. he isn’t mad at you—more like sad that you still seemed upset with him.
your daughter tugs at your index finger. she apparently wants you to go to her dad—wants you to interact or talk with him. her big eyes were staring up at you with a pleading look in them.
you were in a dilemma. of course, you wanted to put your daughter’s mind at ease. you could just fake interact with satoru—or actually just make it up—but there was still a small part of you that needed time alone. you weren’t yet mentally ready for another confrontation. you needed time to think it out.
however, part of you also knows that your earlier argument was kind of silly. you don’t even fully remember what it was about, that’s how irrelevant it was to your brain.
“c’mon, pumpkin. ‘tis not nice for you to bother mama while she’s cooking.” satoru’s soft voice startles you back to reality. he had already gotten up and crouched down to pick your daughter up in his arms, kissing her chubby cheeks to distract her; “mama’s busy, ‘kay? let’s go play with papa.”
even satoru knew that your argument had caused your little girl to feel some kind of stress. she didn’t fully comprehend the situation, though she was clearly uncomfortable by the fact that her parents were not acting nice and lovey dovey like they usually would.
“no, papa. mama!” the baby whines and points at you and then at satoru, her little legs kicking. it absolutely broke satoru’s heart — shattered it into pieces. oh, how he wishes to never fight with you again. the sight of his little bundle of joy trying to mend things between you two with all she could was simply too much.
satoru looks down at you and notices the way you look at your one year old as well. the same way he did; with guilt and sadness. he sighs softly and without further thought, wraps his free arm around your shoulders and brings you close to his body.
“c’mere,” satoru murmurs as he holds both your daughter and you to his chest, “let me hold my two girls, yeah? may i, sweetheart? please.”
your husband asks for your consent. if you were okay with this—even when he needs it desperately, to hold you again in his arms and to make it right to you—your comfort comes first. if you weren’t ready yet to make up, he’d let you go. even if it’d hurt him immensely.
you don’t answer with your words and instead let your actions do the talking. you wrap one arm around satoru’s torso, the other cradling your daughter closer to both you and him.
it was like nothing mattered anymore in that moment, except for your little family. your worries, stress and anxiety about everything and anything had vanished into thin air as you felt the embrace of the two people you held dear.
your daughter finally giggles—a sound satoru and you had greatly missed. you close your eyes and just rest against your husband’s body.
“mama papa, wuv!” the little girl squeals in happiness as she excitedly babbles on, causing both satoru and you to laugh as well. the white-haired sorcerer leaves a big peck on the baby’s forehead before doing the same to you.
“mhm, papa loves mama veeery much.” satoru hums and kisses your forehead again, solely because he missed being affectionate to you, “papa loves his sweet little angel too.”
you can’t help but chuckle along with your one year old—who seemed to be extremely content in her parents’ loving embrace again. this is how it always should be.
“mama also loves papa very much.” you reply, causing your husband to regain his usual big grin. he finally got what he longed for; to have you look and talk to him with love. your silence may have lasted only a few hours, but it felt like it had been a couple cruel months to the sorcerer.
your eyes meet his again and all was well. you smile at him and he smiles back before leaning in to kiss you gently on the lips. satoru’s arm that was draped over your shoulder moves down to curl around your lower back, pulling you as close to him as your bodies would allow.
he pulls back after a few seconds and just lovingly stares at your face again—eyes holding an affection only you had ever been able to witness. your eyes told the same story; nothing could separate you two. ever.
“waaaaah! mama papa, me, me!”
the romantic air between you two suddenly gets interrupted by your daughter’s excited demands. she was demanding kisses as well, puffing her cheeks up as she got ready for it.
“ohh? seems like our angel wants some kisses too.” satoru laughs and nods his head at the baby in his other arm whilst looking at you, “shall we?”
you giggle and nod back—not able to refuse your little girl any longer.
it was not long before the living room fills with the sounds of your child’s laughter, which was caused by the continuous kisses and tickles she was receiving from both satoru and you.
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