#and i can’t do anything but lay in bed and cry and it’s not fair idc

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle

Part 1: Here , Part 2: Here , Part 3: You’re here! , Part 4: Here , Part 5: Here

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don't have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest.

TW: Past abuse in the form of emotional neglect/abuse, pregnancy, panic attacks and angst

After passing out from the emotions of the shopping trip you woke up to your warm bed. It seems someone (other than Damian, he was too small to carry an adult.) had placed you on your bed, removed your shoes and removed anything that would snag or choke you in your slumber as well, it seems they also left your shopping bags at the foot of your bed. You were starting to wonder if that shopping tripped really ending up helping you because now it’s 12:32 at night and you’re texting your husband you were supposedly not talking to and you felt unbelievably drained from all that crying you did. Usually you’d cry in his arms while he comforts you so perhaps that’s why your reaching out to him.

You:

I’m fine. And I’m safe just need some space

Him:

I want to give that to you but I’m just nervous not knowing where you are.

You can feel a headache coming on, perhaps from the crying, the fact you were still in your day clothes and from the fact he was so insistent on your location, fair enough, you disappeared with almost nothing on you and also, in his eyes, randomly one day with no signs that you would be away from him for so long. You choose to turn off your phone and just lay there. Honestly it’s all too much. These hectic phew days seeing your family again has been overwhelming. You can’t lie and say you aren’t enjoying the attention but at the same time you feel this gnawing feeling in your chest. The lingering in the back of your mind being ‘Is this all real? Was the years of neglect real or did I imagine it all? Has everyone always cared I didn’t notice?’ and arguably the most significant reason to you ‘what was the reason for it all?’

You can feel your mind start spiralling and you begin to feel sick. You hate it all. Hate being aware of everything all at once. Hate the almost never ending unanswered questions.

You quickly get up shaking your head gently refusing to let it completely overwhelm you, grabbing some PJs you change into as you do. They smell like your him, you both use the same detergent so it always reminds you of each other. You then slide on your slippers as you walk to the kitchen to get a late night snack. You’ve been have some pregnancy cravings but nothing super weird surprisingly, like pickles and peanut butter.

In the kitchen you search for some of your favourite snacks to eat lately, unfortunately there’s none left so you settle for some fruit you like, not as tasty like the ones you have at home but decent enough. The moonlight comes through the kitchen window making you think once again as you bite into the succulent fruit while you lean against the marble kitchen counters. The night is quiet, perfect for unwelcomed overthinking.

‘I wonder what would’ve happened if I stayed here?’

‘What would’ve happened if I never had gotten pregnant?’

The worst thought of all though was; ‘is this sudden affection from everyone in this manor only because of the baby?’

You love your baby you do but you’d hate for all this affection to be just for the child. You are your family’s child first and all you want is for them to love you as you and not for the child you carry.

You feel a slight buzz in your pyjama pocket. You’ll have to deal with your true family before your second, and right now part of your true family is worried about you.

Him:

Please talk to me, my love.

You pause sighing, perhaps if you were raised in a healthy family you could’ve grown up to handle conflict better. Maybe you would still be there with him in your shared home. No point in lamenting about it though.

You:

I’m here sorry I needed to take a break, I was getting overwhelmed.

Him:

Thats okay I’m sorry… I’m just scared

Your husband has always been kind and patient with you even when you found even yourself difficult. Of course he makes mistakes, but he never hurts you and he would never emotionally abandon you like this cursed family did and yet here you were abandoning him, thinking about that makes you wince slightly.

You:

That’s fair… I’m sorry.

Ever since our last argument I’ve been struggling a bit. I know it seems minor but the fact we disagreed on something so small but important around our child is scary. Because what happens next?

All your thoughts spill out as you type, like an overflowing fountain, speaking of fountains you can feel your eyes fill up with tears as you type.

Will we continue to argue about every small thing, like on how to parent our child? Will you get tired if we just continuously disagree and fight? What happens when the baby comes, if I’m like this now will I really be a good parent? Can I even love when I was raised without it?

Your sweet husband knows everything about your childhood and you know everything about his. He never once judged or blamed you for the trauma you endured, he was always on your side.

Him:

I know you’re scared, my love. but one disagreement doesn’t mean our marriage will fall apart, raising a life can be scary but that’s why we are doing it as a team and not as individuals.

I’ll never get tired of you, I intend to stay true to our marriage vows and love you in sickness and in health. I’ll never be tired of you and I won’t be tired of the baby because I love you both. Also you will be a good parent, I know it. Just because you may have been raised without love and care doesn’t mean you can’t love and care anymore, you’re married to me and you love me just fine.

Don’t doubt yourself so much. Thinking so big about everything all at once is bound to get you overwhelmed.

You can almost hear his naggy voice lecturing you towards the end making you giggle softly.

You:

Youer right I’m sorry. I love you so much ♡

God I feel like a fool right now.

Him:

My fool ♡

Now go to sleep I can tell you’re about to pass out because you spelt you’re wrong

Also I bet the reason you stayed away from me for so long is you were too embarrassed

Shit! He caught you. You should’ve known better but he can practically see through you sometimes so you don’t know why you’re surprised. You laugh softly and hang your head slightly at the fact you can still feel the connection when you’re both apart. It’s a testament that you both are truly blessed with one another.

You:

Will do, love you again. Also your bet was right, I’ll text you my location tomorrow so you can pick me up.

Him:

Looking forward to it ♡

You yawn after he sends his last text for tonight, he was right all anxiety has left you with a giant puddle of sleepiness. You eat the last slice of your fruit, wash your hands in the kitchen sink, then finally you walk back to bed.

You’ve never walked around so late it’s almost eerie how quiet it all is, when you were younger you were afraid monsters would get you as sometimes you heard weird noises when you did try to venture outside your room.

Perhaps you should’ve looked around at night more because then you wouldn’t be lost, wandering around a large manor in a sleepy haze, desperate to get back to bed. “Office…?” You mumble looking into rooms for the staircase so you could get to your room to no avail.

Somehow you end up in Bruce’s study, that he once expressed you weren’t supposed to go into at any point, normally you’d listen, it was just an office after all but the sleep made you bold as you step in.

The room in your sleepy vision was normal.

Minus the bookcase behind the desk which was moved to the side to reveal a staircase going down. The shock of the weird bookcase and stairs going down sobered you up from your sleepy haze.

“Wait.. we had a basement?”

You crept down the dark stairwell, the only way you knew where you were going is because of the small lights that lined the walls as you descended. The stairs and the walls weren’t old and rickety for a secret passage, they were what looked to be sold black iron all around minus the matching black carpet going down the middle of the stairs.

“This isn’t weird at all…” you mumble sarcastically to yourself.

You can’t decide what would be worse a creepy old staircase that looks like it lead to a dungeon or a staircase that looks like it would lead you to something like a room for experiments. Either way it felt like you were about to witness something you shouldn’t have seen.

If only you knew how right you were.

Finally you reached the end of the stairs, if you were even still a tiny bit sleepy that terribly long walk down got rid of it. You walk a wide corridor, what looks to be different entrances to rooms line the walls. You want to open one and check but your body pushes you to continually walk forward.

Once you reach the end you see two see-through automatic doors, when you step past one you panic as you’re sprayed down with what you can only assume are chemicals. One you step through the other, you’re greeted with a very large cave.

A cave full of shit you’d never find in a cave, like cars and, sitting in the middle of the very big cave, what looks to be a giant computer.

Alarm bells ring in your head, this definitely wasn’t for you to see. But those alarm bells and everything else in your head quickly dies when you see Bruce, Dick and Alfred walking towards you talking amongst themselves.

You wouldn’t feel this sudden horrifying pit in your stomach if that was it.

No. If that was it you’d be fine. But instead Dick and Bruce were in costumes.

Not just any costumes but Batman and Nightwing costumes.

‘No.’

‘There’s just no way.’

‘This is a joke.’

But you knew it wasn’t when Alfred looked ahead and met your eyes, his face paling at the realization of you standing there and that’s all you needed to turn and run.

You run back to the see-through doors, down the black hallway and up the black stairs. You are pretty sure you can hear yelling but you can’t hear it over the sound of your own breathing as you hyperventilate.

Everything you knew about your family has come crashing down. What was real? Who else knew? No, they all must’ve known. It makes sense that everyone in this family knew but you. Which other superhero was secretly your family member?

Your vision blurs from tears. They were superheros. Saving EVERYONE. EVERYDAY. But they could forget your birthdays, they could forget your existence. Watching your brothers and sisters celebrate their birthdays all together as a happy family and Bruce, your DAD, YOUR BIOLOGICAL DAD couldn’t find time to get you a different gift each year.

Everywhere feels unsafe, all you could do was run to the living room before you could feel the air in your throat get stuck from how quick you were breathing. The tears blurring your vision.

You quickly pull out your phone and quickly open your messages, your hand shaking as you click on your husband’s contact before sending him your location along with a single line saying ‘help’. You need to leave here fast no where feels safe. Everything feels fake.

As this is all happening you hear people call your name, through your tears you could make out Bruce and Dick.

“Hey hey hey let’s just calm down… it’s not a big deal! And what you saw wasn’t what it looked like.” Dick starts his own voice sounding unsure.

“N-not a- A BIG DEAL?” You manage to choke out and scream.

“Don’t be this way.” Bruce coldly glares at your reaction.

“DON’T BE THIS WAY?” You yell again, you’re pretty sure the entire manor is awake now from your cries. “You… you don’t get to tell me that.” You hiss through tears.

“Tell me, Bruce Thomas Wayne. Who else knows.” You ask slowly and carefully, voice full of spit.

There’s a silence before Bruce speaks up, “the… entire family knows.”

You go to laugh but before you can he adds on, “Because they’re all vigilantes too, we never told you because we wanted you to live a normal life...”

His voice fades away as the world around you shatters, a seemingly innocent illusion of a neglectful family has cracked and revealed a family who purposefully isolated you from themselves because they decided to choose for you that you’ll live a life full of wondering what you did so wrong to deserve this.

Your own father decided to tell the kids that aren’t even related to him to become heroes with him but here you were his biological child and yet he decided you weren’t worth it all.

You gently crumpled onto the floor.

Right before your husband decides to make a flashy entrance by shattering the living room window.

[delilahsturniolo]

⋆˙⟡ ۶ৎ 📞 BABY, CAN YOU CALL ME BACK? I MISS YOU . . .

in which . . . you and matt get into an argument over the phone while he’s away for tour. matt calls you again hours later, apologizing and letting you know how much he misses you.

warnings . . . phone sex, mutual masturbation, degradation, dirty talk, arguing, angst, sexual descriptions, cursing, matt talking you through it.

written by @delilahsturniolo, do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)

the call starts out fine. he’s in some city you can’t remember the name of. maybe denver. or dallas. it doesn’t matter. he’s not here. he hasn’t been for weeks. you’re curled up on your bed, wearing his hoodie, one of the only things that still smells like him. it’s past midnight and the video call glitches when he answers. he looks tired. his hair’s messy. he’s got a water bottle in one hand and his phone in the other, held up under his chin like he can’t be bothered to try. “hey,” he says, voice scratchy from the show “hey,” you reply, quiet.

he talks about the crowd, about his travels, all that stuff. you nod. smile where it feels appropriate. but something’s off, he doesn’t ask about your day. doesn’t notice the dark circles under your eyes or the way your voice shakes a little when you talk. and you’re already too close to the edge to let it slide. you miss him, so damn much. “do you even care how i am?” you blurt. matt pauses. “what?”

“you didn’t ask. not once.” your voice cracks. “i’ve been trying so hard to be cool about this, matt, but i feel like i’m dating a fucking ghost.” his jaw tightens. “that’s not fair.”

“neither is the fact that i haven’t seen you in a month and the best i get is a ten-minute facetime where you talk more about the food you ate than me.”

“i’m working,” he says, sharper now. “this isn’t a vacation. i’m exhausted.”

“and i’m lonely!” you snap, tears brimming. “but that doesn’t matter, right? because as long as you’re doing your thing, i’m just supposed to shut up and deal with it.”

he goes quiet. his face darkens. “i can’t do this right now,” he mutters. “of course not,” you say bitterly. “you never can.” then he hangs up. your phone screen goes black and the room suddenly feels colder. you don’t cry. not at first. you just sit there, staring at the screen, fists clenched, chest burning with anger and heartbreak. you toss your phone on the bed, crawl under the covers, and try to pretend you’re not falling apart.

two hours pass.

then, your phone buzzes, you don’t look right away. but then the screen lights up again. matt calling, your heart stutters. you answer. neither of you says anything for a few seconds. then his voice…low, rough, soft in the dark.

“i’m sorry.”

you breathe out slowly. “me too.”

“i shouldn’t have hung up. that was a dick move.”

“i shouldn’t have picked a fight,” you whisper. “i just… miss you so bad it hurts.” he exhales. “i know, baby. i miss you too. like fucking crazy.” silence. then, more quietly…

“can i tell you something?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“i—i just…i needed to hear your voice again.”

your breath catches.

“been laying in this hotel bed thinking about you. thinking about how mad you looked. even that turned me on.” his voice dips, husky now. “you know what that does to me, don’t you?”you squirm under your blankets. “what?”

“the way your voice sounds when you’re mad. the way your lips pout when you’re frustrated. i kept picturing you walking away from the phone, pacing in my hoodie, no pants on, just those little shorts that ride up when you sit…fuck.” your body heats instantly.

“matt…”

“i know, baby. i know. you’re probably in bed right now, aren’t you? wearing that hoodie. nothing else.” you can’t speak. your breath’s gone, you clench your thighs together, trying to contain the heat pooling between your legs.

“i’d be touching you if i was there. slow. careful. i’d make it up to you, make you forget why you were ever mad in the first place. i’d kiss your thighs, your stomach, every inch of you.”

“matt,” you whisper, needy now.

“say it again,” he murmurs. “please.”

“matt,” you moan out into the speaker, softer, more desperate.

“good girl,” he groans. “you don’t even know what you do to me.” you close your eyes, biting your lip. “touch yourself for me,” he says, voice ragged. “just a little. i wanna hear how bad you need me.” your fingers trail down slowly, as he whispers your name again and again like a prayer, voice thick with lust and love and everything you’ve both been holding in for too long. the argument fades like smoke, what’s left is the ache. the love. the promise of his hands on you again soon.

you breathe, your hand sliding down your body. "i miss you so much, i need you." matt groans. "i know, baby, i need you too," he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "i wish i could touch you, taste you, feel your body against mine. i'd run my hands all over your soft skin, teasing you until you were begging for more."

"tell me what you'd do to me," you beg, your fingers toying with the hem of your panties. "tell me how you'd make me feel."

"first, i'd kiss you, long and deep," he starts, his voice low and seductive. "i'd taste every inch of your mouth, claim you with my tongue. then i'd trail kisses down your neck, sucking and biting until i left marks on your skin…” you moan softly, your eyes fluttering closed as you imagine his lips on your body. your fingers slip beneath your panties, finding your clit and circling it slowly.

"then i'd move down to your breasts, sucking and licking your nipples until they were hard and aching," he continues, his voice rough with desire. "i'd worship your body with my mouth, kissing and tasting every inch of your skin." you whimper, your fingers moving faster against your clit. "more," you beg, your voice breathy and needy.

"then i'd spread your legs, baring your pretty pussy to me," he growls, and you can hear the hunger in his voice. "i'd lick you from top to bottom, tasting your sweetness. i'd fuck you with my tongue, thrusting it deep inside you until you were writhing and moaning beneath me." you cry out, your hips bucking against your hand. "matt, please," you whimper, your body trembling with need.

"fuck yourself on your fingers," he commands, his voice low and rough. "imagine it's my cock inside you, stretching you open, filling you up. i want you to feel me, even though i'm not there." you obey, sliding two fingers inside yourself, your walls clenching around them. you moan loudly, your hips rocking against your hand.

"that's it, baby," he encourages, his voice strained. "fuck yourself just like that, take what you need. imagine my hands on your body, my cock deep inside you." you hear him moan softly, and you realize he's stroking himself, his hand moving up and down his thick shaft. the thought of him jerking off to the sound of your moans sends a thrill through your body.

"you like that, don't you?" he growls, his voice low and dirty. "you like knowing i'm stroking my cock, thinking about your tight little pussy. you're such a dirty little slut, aren't you?" you moan loudly, your fingers moving faster inside yourself. "yes," you whimper, your voice breathy and needy. "i'm—oh my gosh..”

"fuck, you're so hot," he groans, his breathing ragged. "i wish i could see you, see your fingers fucking your pussy, see your face as you cum. i’d give anything to be inside you right now, pounding into you until you screamed."

"matt," you gasp, your fingers curling inside yourself. "i'm so close, i need to cum!”

"cum for me," he growls, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "cum all over your fingers, let me hear you scream. i want to hear how good i make you feel, even from miles away." with a cry, you come undone, your body convulsing around your fingers. you moan his name over and over again, your hips bucking wildly. "that's it, baby," he purrs, his voice low and satisfied. "just like that. i wish i could be there to hold you, to taste your cum on my tongue, to feel your body against mine."

you hear his breathing quicken, his moans growing louder. "fuck, i'm gonna cum," he groans, his voice rough with pleasure. "i'm gonna cum thinking about you, about your tight pussy, your gorgeous body." with a loud moan, he comes undone, his cum spilling over his hand as he strokes himself through his orgasm. you listen to his moans, your body trembling with pleasure. "soon," you promise, your voice rough with emotion. "soon we'll be together again."

"i can't wait," he whispers. "until then, know that i love you, that i'm always thinking of you. i'll be dreaming of you tonight, of touching you and tasting you and fucking you until you scream." you laugh. "i love you too," you reply, your heart swelling with love and desire. as you lay in bed, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure, you know that no matter the distance between you, your love will always keep you connected.

© delilahsturniolo

taglist

[slytherinshua]

YOU, ME, AND BULBASAUR

genre. fluff. warnings. neck kisses. gunwook is extremely cute and i'm extremely delusional and in love with him. mention that reader wears makeup and dresses. pairing. gunwook x fem!reader. wc. 700. request. no. a/n. i saw gunwook like indirectly kiss taerae's neck and it made me think of just how much of a neck kisser he would be 😭 and if you know me you know i'm a neck girl and that just made me so delusional like i'm feral rn it's not okay??? also can we talk abt how fucking cute gunwook's rosy cheeks are LIKE HES THE CUTEST EVER IM GONNA CRY.

“why are you getting all pretty? you going somewhere?” the tired husky voice of your boyfriend makes a smile start to form on your lips. gunwook had been sleeping peacefully until 2 minutes ago, hugging your pillow to his chest, still tangled under the sheets. you wished you could’ve stayed in bed with him, but you had a meeting early in the morning.

“just a work meeting. wish i could’ve slept in with you, wook.” you glanced up at him apologetically through the mirror, frowning at his sleepy pout and messy hair.

“not fair…”

“i know, baby. but i’ll be back in 2 hours and then we can cuddle.” you assured him, finishing the last touches on your makeup and hair. you turned around to face gunwook properly, ruffling his bed head as you stood up.

“can’t you just stay?” gunwook asked, following you to your closet like a lost puppy.

“it’s an important meeting…” you tried your best to stay firm and not let your boyfriend have so much affect over you. but it was hard, especially when he started planting small kisses on your neck as you sifted through your hangers to find a dress. you felt a small nip land to the dip in your shoulder and neck and you gasped.

“gunwook!” you hadn’t realized he was this clingy this morning. he didn’t stop despite your reaction, pressing a softer kiss over the spot he had nibbled. you willed yourself to not get too focused on his lips on your skin, to instead figure out what you were going to wear to your meeting. but he made it so hard to even remember why you were trying to get up in the first place.

“wouldn’t you rather just stay here? with me? and bulbasaur?” he pleaded, pressing a kiss to your neck between each word. you smiled at the mention of his bulbasaur plush that you had gotten for his birthday— he slept with it every night, opting to cuddle it when you couldn’t sleep with him.

you gripped the side of a navy blue dress, hanging on your last thread, gunwook seconds away from snapping it. was the meeting more important than your clingy boyfriend? did you actually want to spend the morning in a room with a bunch of grumpy middle-aged men when you could be cuddling with your boyfriend?

“you’re lucky you’re cute in the morning…” you sighed, dropping your hand from the dress, and your boyfriend knew he had won. you could feel his victorious smile against your neck as he pressed one last kiss behind your ear. and then he started steering you towards the bed until you both fell onto the soft mattress, him laying on top of you. he nuzzled his face in your chest and closed his eyes, completely content now that he was sure he had you for the entire morning.

you looked at his sleepy face, dark hair falling over his eyes, cheeks dotted with rosy stains, cherry lips formed into the most beautiful smile. you brushed his bangs away from his face, feeling his warm skin underneath the palm of your hand. god, he took your breath away even when he wasn’t doing anything.

“since you made me miss my morning meeting, at least give me a kiss.” you nudged his chin with your hand, and he opened one eye to look up at you. he didn’t waste time after hearing your request, quickly picking himself up to hover over you and press his soft lips to yours. he sighed, finally being able to taste your lip gloss that he had watched you apply minutes ago. he had been tempted to steal a kiss from you then as well, but he was considerate enough to not ruin your makeup until he was sure you were his for the morning.

gunwook’s lips always felt like pure bliss against yours. the weight of his body on top of you was like a weighted blanket, and you were determined to not move from the position for at least another hour. gunwook was right, you would always much rather spend the morning with him… and bulbasaur. 

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@talking-saxy

[rainrot4me]

I really loved your girl dad Jeff post

I was wondering if your willing to do EJ (it’s also my first time requesting so kinda nervous😖)

๑ Protective doesn’t even begin to cover it.

๑ Jack’s a fierce father to a little girl. After a lifetime of being alien, monstrous, and feared, having this tiny, soft daughter who sees him as “daddy” and loves him unconditionally shatters him.

๑ When she’s a baby, she pats at the blank space where his eyes should be, exploring with chubby, fearless fingers. Instead of shrinking away, Jack lets her. She pokes gently at the dark void of his sockets, curious, as if trying to find his eyes in there. Jack laughs softly and guides her hands, telling her, “Careful, sweet. Daddy can see you, don’t worry.”

๑ He’s terrified of corrupting her—but he also can’t stop hovering, because this is the one thing in his wretched existence he refuses to lose. If she so much as sniffles, Jack is at her side immediately. No one—no one—lays a finger on her, not even a push on the playground, without him getting involved. He’s protective to the point of suffocating, and he knows it, but he can’t help it.

๑ Her first real word is “Dada,” and it practically levels him. Jack’s hands tremble, because no one has ever called him anything so soft before. He answers in a hushed voice, “Yes, my little one,” and she giggles, trying to say it again and again.

๑ He’d absolutely be the dad who patches up every scraped knee. In the weirdest, most “doctor-dad” way. If she fell off her bike? Jack would sprint across the yard, scoop her up, check for blood, disinfect the tiniest cut, and bandage her with so much care it was borderline comical. He’d be scolding gently in that flat, calm voice, “You must be more cautious,” while she’s still crying—but then he’d pat her head in this awkward, earnest way that somehow made it better.

๑ He’s so gentle with her. Like, shockingly gentle. He’s this monstrous cannibalistic being who can eviscerate a grown man without blinking, but his daughter’s tiny hands holding his claws? She could do anything to him, and he’d melt. She could paint his claws with sparkly polish, braid ribbons around his hoodie ties, draw on his mask with washable markers—he’d let her, with that resigned but loving sigh. He would correct her only if something might hurt her, but otherwise? She basically has him wrapped around her finger.

๑ His massive frame makes him a terrifyingly good peekaboo partner. He can vanish behind a doorframe in an instant and reappear with a low “boo,” making her squeal with joy. She keeps crawling after him, shrieking in delighted terror, and Jack will play until she wears herself out.

๑ The nightmares get to him sometimes. Jack will sit beside her bed for hours at night, just watching her breathe. She’s everything good and human that he isn’t, and the fear of losing that sometimes paralyzes him. If she has a bad dream, he’d try to soothe her in the most awkward but sincere way, explaining monsters and shadows as logically as possible—while being one himself, ironically. But if she asked, he’d crawl into bed beside her, letting her curl up against his cold side, promising quietly, “I won’t let anything get you.”

๑ He’d encourage her to be curious, to learn, to study, even if it was something unconventional. If she inherited his science-y streak? Jack would be overjoyed. He’d get her a microscope, help her with school science fairs, teach her weird (PG-rated) surgical skills, carefully guiding her tiny hands through sewing practice, but never in a way that felt violent or scary. Just skill-building, if she wanted to.

๑ Emotional moments would wreck him. Her first “I love you, Daddy” made him crumble. Her first time telling him about a crush, or growing up, or getting her period? Jack would be mortified because he wouldn’t know what to say, but he’d try so hard to support her. It would absolutely fluster him, this big terrifying monster trying to help buy pads at the drugstore with the most lost expression.

๑ When she was a baby, he used to hold her against his chest for hours just listening to her heart beat, because it proved to him she was alive, and his.

๑ Jesus Christ forbid if this child gets sick. He’s checking her temperature every ten minutes, changing cool cloths on her forehead, brewing herbal tea with trembling hands because he feels so helpless. She’s too small, too fragile, and Jack’s mind races with horror stories about infections and complications, convinced he might lose her.

๑ Bath time is a struggle. His daughter insists on a mountain of bubbles, her tiny plastic mermaid dolls floating around, while Jack sits on the floor with a towel draped over his knee, gently scolding her when she tries to dump water on his head. “You’re going to flood the room, little one,” he warns, deadpan, as she giggles. He helps rinse her hair, being incredibly careful with the water temperature and the soap, worried about stinging her eyes. The moment she’s wrapped up warm in her favorite cartoon towel, Jack feels that tiny spark of peace in his hollow ribcage.

๑ Thunderstorms scare her, so Jack sets up a blanket fort in the living room with pillows, flashlights, and a stack of her picture books. He reads to her in that flat, rumbling voice that somehow still feels soothing, while rain beats against the windows. When the thunder booms, she scoots closer, climbing right into his lap. Jack wraps one huge arm around her protectively, promising, “The storm cannot harm you.”

๑ When the inevitable moment of having a crush or bringing someone home happens, Jack is skittish. He’s not scared—absolutely not—but he is wary. He wants his girl to be happy, but she’s his first and foremost. Jack is polite but absolutely terrifying. Not on purpose, he’d tell himself, but really… absolutely on purpose. His stillness is the most unsettling part: sitting there at the table, blank mask, hollow eyes, breathing slow and measured while the poor kid tries to make conversation.

๑ He watches her growing up with a bittersweet pride, knowing he can’t protect her from the world forever. But that doesn’t mean he won’t try. Even when she’s older, braver, louder, he’s still there—a silent shadow, a constant reminder to anyone that this girl is loved, fiercely and unconditionally, and that comes with certain… consequences.

꩜ .ᐟ

[bokunoheros]

TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, inappropriate quirk usage (temperature play), pro hero!shouto, shouto and the reader are married, cumming inside, kinda lazy ending bc i wanted to work on day 8 (threesome ft. todobaku) and didn’t know how to finish it lol GENRE: SMUT SUMMARY: shouto can’t help but tease you despite the way you’re always so good for him. WORD COUNT: 2K 🦊’s A/N: god not my ass opening the first two days, anyway here’s my husband ❤️// also, this fic would have been significantly longer had i not previously exhausted myself on this one (pleasepleaseplease read it i put in sm work)

     if shouto todoroki was anything, it was resilient and persistent; throughout his childhood, all throughout the course of his hero training, even with all the setbacks and massive traumas he faced, and now: where you lay squirming and crying beneath him, begging for him to just fuck you despite your cunt already being stuffed by three of his thick, ice cold fingers with your legs tossed over his broad shoulders with his mouth dangerously close to your clit, breath disgustingly hot, making for a sensation that had your overstimulated, puffy pussy drooling as goosebumps rose over your flushed, sweaty skin.

     even with the way his cock twitches in his too-tight briefs, shouto simply shakes his head with a soft, patient smile and hushes you gently. 

     “shh, just one more; cum for me one more time, and i promise i’ll give you what you need,” he coos, gazing up at you from between your legs, his striking, heterochromatic gaze ensnaring your own watery one as you bite your lower lip and nod, eyebrows scrunched up as you wiggle your hips, trying to get away from his frosty fingers despite your agreeance to one more orgasm mere seconds ago. but you knew better—”one more” was never just one more, because there was always another one after that. and another. and probably another after that, because shouto was just that addicted to you: your body, the noises you made, the way your eyes rolled back when he made you cum, or the way your back arched so deeply off the bed as your oversensitive, fucked-out body tried to cope with the feeling of another orgasm.

     jesus, you swore this man would be the death of you.

     “sh–shouto–!” you sniffle, thighs trembling as you prop yourself up on your forearms and look down at him.

     “what is it, love?” his voice is soft and soothing, steady, if not a little breathy, as if he wasn't insanely hard right now—beyond desperate to get his dick wet; while instead, he was knuckle deep in your drenched cunt, playing with you like you were some toy (his favorite toy, really <3) while you whine about how you can't take it anymore.

     “if you want, we can stop all together right now,” shouto suggests in a teasing voice, crooking his fingers upwards inside you as he does so, and he can't help but chuckle at the way your voice cracks slightly when you let out a pitchy no and shake your head; you knew when he said stop entirely, he truly meant entirely—meaning you wouldn't get any of the dick you had waited so, so, soooo patiently for!

     “y–you're so unfa–fair!” you protest, back arching upwards as he brings his hot mouth closer to your disgustingly wet cunt before wrapping his plump lips around your swollen clit, suckling on it gently as his skilled fingers work against your gummy inner walls and you can't help but shudder at the feeling of the frosty digits in contrast to his almost burning mouth, and it's all you can do to whimper and try not to cry as he works you up to another orgasm. you don't even know what number it was anymore. four? five? fuck, your brain was so fuzzy—and you had not only shouto's skilled tongue and fingers playing with your pussy, but the active use of his quirk as well.

     “and?” is all he says as he pulls his thick fingers from your aching cunt with a disgusting schliiick sound so he can make out with your drooling pussy — taking your whole mound into his mouth as he pressed his suddenly ice cold tongue against your slick entrance and engorged clit before the tip of it slowly traces over your inner folds. 

     “nnngh, fuck,” you moan softly when he suddenly dips the freezing muscle into your welcoming heat, making a mental note of the way you tasted, a grin spreading over his glossy lips as he eats you out with nothing but love in heart. 

     shouto was always such a giver in bed — don't get me wrong, he certainly loved being on the receiving end of many things, but he loved being the one to give you (often overwhelming) pleasure the most. he thinks he could get off on your satisfaction alone (and he has before), and he can’t help but let out a low, drawn-out whine as he humps the mattress beneath him, dick straining against his sickeningly restrictive underwear, drooling enough to create a wet patch on the bed where he'd been rutting his hips against the comforter (as long as it can be cleaned later, the youngest of the todoroki family never minds making a mess).

     “soon, honey, soon,” shouto murmurs against your cunt in response to your pitiful swear. “you've earned it,” he praises you, voice a mere whisper, laced with nothing but adoration for you. he was always so proud of you when you managed to withstand his teasing — the way his calloused hands would trail over your body, both extreme temperatures as he toyed with your already stiff nipples thanks to his near feather light touch having trailed already before touching your properly. god, you hated how patient this man could be sometimes, it was truly sickening. because one thing about shouto was that he always took he sweet fuckin’ time with you in the bedroom (and as a result, he hates quickies—he doesn't believe in rushed sex where neither partner can enjoy themselves in full).

     the saccharine tone of his voice had you clenching around nothing as he presses his tongue flat against your clit before circling the freezing muscle around the throbbing bundle of nerves, rapidly cooling it down to an almost unbearable degree. 

     one of your hand comes down to thread itself into his hair, pulling his face closer to your cunt, to which he had no objections, and it isn’t long at all before the familiar knot in your stomach is snapping for the nth time tonight and you’re shamelessly crying out shouto’s name while your back arches deeply off the bed as your husband continues to eat you out throughout the duration of your orgasm.

     “sho—shouto!” you squeal, legs squeezing shut around his head and he lets out a content sigh as he looks up at you with a half-lidded heterochromatic gaze. 

     “i know, baby, i know, you’ve done so well f’me,” he coos gently, pulling away from your cunt and sitting up on his knees in order to tug his boxers down, groaning loudly when his cock finally sprung free and hit against his lower stomach. “fuck,” he hisses, flushed, mushroom headed tip swollen and leaky. 

     “wan’ you s’bad, sho,” you whine, impatiently rolling your hips upwards. 

     “yeah? ‘m all yours, sweetheart,” he says while moving to position himself over you, one hand wrapped around his pretty dick in order to align it with your dripping slit before slowly pushing in, biting his lower lip and letting his head hang down in the crook of your neck to hide his flushed face.

     it takes a moment for him to bottom out, and when he does, you both let out a drawn moan, staying like that for a minute before shouto slowly starts to fuck you, hips moving languidly against yours. his dick throbs deep inside you while the flushed head presses against your g-spot and your hands quickly find purchase on his broad and scarred back, nails digging into the skin there as you cry softly beneath him, mindlessly babbling about how big he was and how good he felt, all of which only fueled shouto’s desire to fuck you stupid (as if he hadn’t already). 

     “mmmnnfgh,” you whimper, raking your nails down his scarred back as you wrap your legs around his waist and cross them at the ankle, pulling his hips flush against yours, his usually neatly trimmed peppermint colored pubes tickling your skin. “oh, baby—you’re fillin’ me up s’good—s–so good,” you coo breathily into his ear, fanning the flames of his ego. “you’re s’fuckin’ big, sho—” so big you feel almost nauseated by the way he thrusts slowly but deeply into you. “nngh–fuck!”

     shouto feels his cock twitch and drool inside you at your praise, and his face only gets hotter as he attaches his cool, slightly chapped lips attach themselves to the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down gently before sucking on the skin. todoroki usually wasn’t one for marking you up in places visible to others, as littering your body with little hickies and bruises where only he could see was typically more than enough for him, but right now…. he couldn’t stop himself from sucking and nibbling on your neck, relishing in the sweet little noises you couldn’t seem to stop making. 

     shouto feels like he’s drowning in you; your scent, the pathetic little mewls you couldn’t stop from slipping past your mouth, the feel of your body against his, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, squeezing him so tightly he swears as his breath hitches in his throat and his hips stutter against yours as he tries not to immediately cum from the feeling.

     “jesus, honey—keep squeezin’ me like that n’ i don’t think i can last much longer,” he groans, trying to maintain an even pace despite the way he falters ever so slightly in his rhythm as he brings his face up from your neck to rest his forehead against yours—always one for obscene intimacy—and breathes heavily through his nose in attempt to catch his breath as his heart hammers away in his chest. 

     “‘m s–sorry,” you stutter, lightly raking your nails up and down his back before they clasp together behind his neck, glossy lips parted and needy for his own. leaning up slightly, you’re able to steal a kiss from him, hands moving to cup his cheeks tenderly as you tilt your head for a better angle.

     “nngh—” he moans softly against your lips, his left hand trailing down your side in a teasing manner as it snakes its way between your legs to rub softly at your oversensitive clit. 

     “cum in me, shouto—please,” you mumble against his plump lips and you can physically feel the way his dick twitches inside you at your words, and it's all you can do to whine at the combined feeling of his cock buried so deep within you and the near scorching heat of his calloused fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

     his eyes fly open in shock at your words and he has to pull away from the kiss to ask if you’re sure and you nod pathetically, rolling your hips upwards and moaning softly to confirm his ask. after that, it’s only a few more thrusts before both you and your husband are cumming with a loud cry as he stills his hips flush against yours, as he finishes deep, so deep, inside you.

     “god,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and moves to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you so that you were lying chest to chest, catching your breaths together as you bathed in the quiet afterglow of sex. cleaning up could wait for another five minutes, right? you both deserved a moment of rest after all that.

     as you lay next to your doting husband, icy fingers ghosting over your ribcage down to your hip bone, following the dips and curves of your supple figure, chilling the heated skin along the way. closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, focusing on inhaling your husband’s somewhat musky scent as compared to the sticky feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed together.

     “let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he suggests softly, to which a warm smile spreads across your face and you nod mindlessly. “‘ll draw you water for a bath,” he offers, starting to get up until you throw a leg over his hip and pull him closer. 

     “five more minutes…. please? ‘m so comfy,” you mumble, and shouto’s barely able to catch it, but he does, and a gentle smile stretches over his lips as he agrees to your terms.

return to KINKTOBER | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

[astermath]

hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!

HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!

wc: 1.4K

notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!

Steve is one attentive boyfriend.

It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.

He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.

So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?

It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?

You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.

“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.

The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.

The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.

"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"

You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"

"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"

"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.

"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"

Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.

"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.

"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."

The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.

Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"

You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.

By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.

Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.

Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.

Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.

"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.

"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"

The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.

"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."

He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.

"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.

"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.

"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."

The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”

He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”

You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.

“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.

“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect.”

-

-

-

-

-

-

[chan-hvgs]

The photo’s used are not mine! They are from pinterest and belong to their rightful owners!

Ship(s)/characters: Ot8 x Reader

CW: mentions of periods, cramps, ect., mentions of bleeding through clothes, Mentions of being pregnant (jokingly) in Han’s, Mentions of food

SKZ PERIOD HC'S

Bang Chan

Definitely has an “emergency kit” for you

→ Painkillers, chocolate, pads,tampons,cups (anything you use), heat pads, fuzzy socks, literally anything you need.

He’s so sweet, but we already knew that

He knows when you want space v.s when you want cuddles

Is always there to let you cry anything you need to out

Take your mood swings like an absolute CHAMP. 

→Lets you yell at him (even if he didn't do anything), Cry into him, laugh at/with him, holds you when you’re anxious

Back rubs.

Leaves encouraging notes anywhere he can

His hands are natural heating pads

Softly sings for you while you lay in his arms

Somehow always knows you’re cravings and will go shopping for them

Knows it’s natural and tries to keep you from being insecure 

Will buy you anything you need, no embarrassment at all

If you bleed through what you're wearing best believe his jacket is around your waist and he's taking your hand and bringing you somewhere more private.

Your body's working hard right now love, let me take care of you”

Lee Know

So observant 

Knows what's going on without you even opening your mouth. 

→ Any shift, groan, wrinkle in your brow. He knows.

Doesn't always say much but has home cooked meals, heating pads plugged in ready for you at any given moment

Won’t let you down play anything

Makes you any food you want

He also won't let you feel bad about anything. 

does chores for you to reduce stress and so you can have clean surroundings

secretly asking any females he knows for help

gets better with time

 If you bleed through he will get behind you immediately, glaring at anyone who looks at you too long. 

“This doesn't make you any less, its natural” 

Seo Changbin 

Panics at first, but gets his head back quickly 

Picks you up and moves you, not letting you move yourself (even if you’re fully capable)

Treats you like you’re glass

His heart genuinely breaks anytime you’re in pain

On better days he tries to convince you to do light workouts with him so you’re moving, and also because he heard it can make the pain better

Brings you snacks and lets you wear his hoodies 

Always holding your hand

You’re crying over something small? You’re in his arms at once.  

Flexing his arms so you can use them as pillows.

Will try to fight your cramps, squaring up

If you bleed through in public, he's already planning a store run

-> He always has extra clothes for you in the car in case after the first time it happened .

“Your body's fighting you? We fight back babe” 

Hwang Hyunjin 

Lights a candle, dims the lights and plays a soft playlist on his phone

Sketches while you lay in his arms, a little awkward position wise but it works 

He has a tendency to tear up with you when you cry

He feels bad that he can’t help you feel better completely 

Feeds you chocolate, calling it medicine

Paints your nails (if you want)

Tries his best to handle your mood swings but they definitely hit him a little hard.

Feels your emotions like their his own 

If your hair is long enough he’ll braid it

Forehead kisses.

If you bleed through in public he wraps his sweater around you and makes sure you’re not embarrassed because there's no reason to be. 

“Your body’s hurting and I can’t fix it? That’s no fair”

Han Jisung 

Just wants you to laugh

Offers to take it away for 9 months, resulting in him getting shoved off the bed.

He’s hyper aware of your emotions, careful not to tip any of your negative ones over the edge

does anything he can to distract you

Panics a little and is about to call the doctor when you calm him down

Lets you let your emotions out cause that's healthy

Writes dis-tracks about it, cause why not

Will try to buy what you need, and get it wrong (and nearly buys out the whole store)

He tried though and that's what matters

Buys you a heating plushy and gives it a dumb name 

His cuddles are healing honestly 

Def has a playlist he made for you for this time

When you bleed through he ties his flannel around your waist and makes up a distraction plan to tear any eyes away from you, purposely falling, ushering you somewhere private.

“Am I helping? I want a gold star and an A+”

Lee Felix:

Obviously he bakes for you, anything you want. Even if he doesn't know how to make it, he'll learn

He treats you like royalty, he doesn't let you do anything.

If he can’t be with you, he’s sending you texts to make sure you’re drinking water and eating, ect.

Has your tracker on his phone so he always knows

→Meaning he has anything you need before you even start

He has all your preferences memorized. 

→ What kind of meds you like, Your favorite type of product, Fav chocolate/sweets, ect. He knows.

Even when nothing works for the pain, he holds you in his arms, just keeping you close.

Massages, obviously. 

-> Your back is cramping? Massage, Your tummy? Massage, Your head? Massage

He has 2 sisters and a mom so he knows some stuff

 Movie marathons! Anything to keep you entertained and not moving around 

Tries not to laugh when you cry at movies, but fails sometimes

→Makes it up with kisses

Constant affirmations

Tries to help you stretch so that you don’t get tense

cuddles! 

→Doesn't let you go unless you ask him to

If you bleed through he’ll just wrap his jacket around your waist and assure you that everything's ok, making sure your not ashamed (Because you shouldn't be)

“I wish I could take all the pain for you. But I'll always be here through it.”

Kim Seungmin

He’ll definitely (lovingly) tease you

→Only if he knows it’s safe and it wont make you cry/mad (he's playing a dangerous game)

He warms up your blanket in the dryer 

He is a little confused, so he just follows his instincts 

Never makes you feel bad for feeling emotions 

does you chores for you pt.2

Acts nonchalant but is watching your every move for any change expressing discomfort. 

He asks what you're feeling and what's wrong so he can take care of you the best he can

Holds you when you don’t want to do anything, not even talk

Asks what you want and follows through

Keeps extra clothes and products/meds in his bag for you

If you bleed through he walks behind you, making sure you’re ok and not embarrassed 

“You’re allowed to be miserable.”

Yang Jeongin

He's another confused panicker 

After the first time it happens he does his research and is ready for the next time

Puts your comfort above anything else

For a rare occasion he lets you cling to him if you want

Each time you go through this, each time he gets better

 He's surprisingly gentle with his words

→He may be a little intimidated of you tbh

Does let you rant if you want

He holds you as he scrolls on his phone, showing you funny videos just wanting to see you laugh

Lets you cry if you need to, rubbing your back and stroking your cheeks

Brings you little gifts like snacks, drinks, or plushies

Is so so genuine 

If you bleed through, he’ll guard you like a body guard and get you away from public and any eyes

“I don’t totally get it, but I do totally care. So let me help.”

(A/N: Hey! This is my first time doing headcannons so I hope you like them! As always let me know if I missed any triggering content or warnings.  Feel free to send a request and as always I hope you’re all eating well and drinking water! You are loved! Love ya’ll-🐝)

[belit0]

Hi! Hope your day's going well ^^

If you're still taking requests, could you please do y/n with uchihas (but mainly obito and shisui *-*) having a spicy time over the phone, missing each other, maybe some sfw ?

Thanks and have a great day!

Hello! There we go

Obito

He calls late at night.

The line crackles softly before his voice comes through—low, a little hoarse, like he hasn’t spoken all day.

–You alone?

(Y/N)’s curled in bed, phone tucked against her cheek, a soft smile blooming the moment she hears him.

-I missed you (Y/N).

There’s silence for a moment.

He knows she’s closing her eyes, soaking it in.

Her voice is pure warmth even when coming through a phone -"You sound tired, Tobi."

–Tired of being away from you.– His voice dips, breath catching like he’s trying not to say more.

But then, after a pause:

–Don't make me cry... just, maybe... tell me what you’re wearing?

It’s soft. Not commanding.

Shy.

And when she hums and tells him, slowly, his breath stutters audibly through the phone.

She can feel how he's blushing on the other side of the line.

–That shirt’s mine, isn’t it? The black one you stole from my drawer.

She giggles softly. –"Maybe."–

A long breath, almost a groan.

–You’re killing me. I keep replaying the sound you made the last time I touched you and,- He stops himself. –Fuck. Just… let me hear you, even if it’s just breathing.–

They don’t even need to go too far.

The way her voice softens, the little sounds she makes, the thought of her touching the collar of his shirt while thinking about him—

It’s enough to leave him breathless.

He doesn’t hang up.

He just falls asleep to the rhythm of her voice, holding the phone like it’s her hand.

Shisui

–Hey, baby.

His voice is warm and lazy, stretching over the line like a cat in sunlight.

–Can’t sleep. I miss you. And my hands are cold. Wanna come keep them warm?

(Y/N) laughs, but the moment she speaks, he groans softly.

–You’ve got no idea what your voice does to me.

He’s definitely laying in bed, shirtless, sprawled across his sheets like a mess.

And when she teases him back—“You’d be worse if you saw what I was wearing”—he whines.

Literally.

–You can’t just say things like that to me and expect me to survive, (Y/N).

He shifts under the covers, half joking, half desperate.

–If I had you here right now… I’d wrap your legs around my neck and not come up for air.

It’s said with a chuckle, but his breath catches like it’s half-serious. Then:

–Say it. Tell me you want me. Just like that. I’ll close my eyes and pretend it’s your hands, your lips… fuck, I’d give anything to feel your thighs shake again.

The line grows quieter as she breathes softly, letting her voice trail lower, more intimate.

He listens, open-mouthed, fingers clenched in the sheets.

And when she says his name like that, he lets out a sharp gasp.

–You’re not playing fair.

But he’s smiling.

Soft, flushed, completely undone by just her voice.

Later, when it’s quiet and they’re both spent, he whispers:

–Next time, don’t even bring clothes. Just come straight to bed. I’ll take care of the rest.

[pankowcrumbs]

Can I request a fluffy Joe Keery x fem! reader long oneshot where they celebrate Joe’s first Father’s Day as a dad to their baby girl and he gets woken up when reader sits their daughter down on their bed and the baby crawls to him and touches him on his face?

MasterList

Stranger Things and Cast Masterlist

Joe's POV-

I didn’t hear the bedroom door open.

That’s how I knew I was properly asleep. Not half-dozing like usual. Not pretending to nap while the baby cried in the next room and Y/N went to get her.

This time, I was gone.

Until I felt the bed dip slightly near my feet. Heard the smallest sound a soft coo, like a little bird clearing its throat. Then a giggle.

And fingers.

Tiny, chubby, perfect fingers brushing against my cheek.

I blinked, eyes slow to adjust in the morning haze.

And there she was.

My daughter. On the bed. Crawling toward me like a sleepy, grinning missile.

Her hair was sticking up on one side. Her onesie was wrinkled. One sock on. Classic chaos. I felt her palm pat my cheek with that aimless, fascinated focus babies have when they discover something new like their dad’s nose.

“Hey,” I whispered, throat thick. “Good morning, bunny.”

She squealed like it was the funniest thing she’d ever heard.

And then I heard Y/N’s voice from the side of the bed.

“She insisted.”

I looked up to see her standing there, arms crossed, warm and sleepy-eyed in an old T-shirt of mine. She was smiling.

“She insisted?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, I insisted. But she backed me up with some pretty compelling babble.”

“Did she now?”

“She said, ‘It’s your first Father’s Day, you should be woken up by your biggest fan.’”

I reached out, scooping our daughter into my arms as she babbled happily, her hands now wrapped around two clumps of my hair like reins.

“She’s brutal in the mornings,” I muttered.

“She gets it from you,” Y/N said, walking around to crawl onto the other side of the bed.

I glanced at the clock.

6:13am.

“You do realise this is technically illegal?”

“It’s adorable,” she countered, snuggling into my side and laying her head on my shoulder. “Look at you. First Father’s Day. First bed-hair baby attack. First time you’ve not completely hated being woken up at six in the morning.”

She wasn’t wrong.

I looked down at the little bundle in my lap, her gummy grin, the drool on my sleeve, the steady way she was patting my chest like she was checking I was still real.

And yeah.

It hit me.

This was it.

The thing I never knew I wanted so badly until it was here in my arms.

Before her, Father’s Day was something that floated past. A nod to my own dad. A few texts. A call if I remembered. I thought I had time. Thought I’d be “dad age” one day, when I grew into it like a new pair of shoes.

But somehow, I’m 32 with spit-up on my T-shirt, a bassinet in the hallway, and this tiny girl who looks half like me, half like the love of my life and all of her own.

And I’ve never felt more like myself.

“You know what’s mad?” I said, voice quiet.

Y/N hummed.

“I still can’t believe she’s real.”

She reached over and brushed a bit of hair off my forehead. “I know. Me neither. I keep thinking someone’s going to show up with a clipboard and go, ‘Alright, experiment’s over, thanks for participating’.”

“She’s too perfect.”

“Except when she screams like a dinosaur.”

“She takes after you.”

She snorted. “Joe. You cry at Pixar films. You cannot talk.”

I kissed our daughter’s cheek. “Fine. But still. Look at her. She’s just…”

“She’s you with my cheeks.”

“And your grumpy morning face.”

“She’s not grumpy.”

“She is furious until she’s fed.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

We stayed in bed for a bit. Let her roll between us, gnawing on her hands, trying to eat the blanket, grabbing my ear like it was her life’s mission. Y/N eventually handed me a small envelope with a sleepy grin.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” I murmured.

“Shut up and open it.”

Inside was a photo.

The three of us. Taken a few weeks ago. The baby asleep on my chest. Y/N in the background, laughing at something I can’t even remember now. All golden light and soft hair and sun.

Written on the back, in her handwriting:

You’re already the best dad she could ever dream of. I know because I get to watch it happen every single day.

I read it three times. Then again.

“Jesus,” I whispered, blinking quickly. “Trying to make me cry before breakfast?”

Y/N leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Happy Father’s Day, Joseph.”

By 8am, we were downstairs. Our daughter was in her bouncer chewing on a giraffe. I was making coffee. Y/N was burning toast, per tradition.

I turned around and caught her watching me.

“What?” I asked.

She shrugged. “You’re just… kind of gorgeous as a dad.”

“Kind of?”

“Very.”

“I’m sleep-deprived and I smell like baby wipes.”

“You’re glowing.”

I laughed, walking over to wrap my arms around her from behind.

“I love you,” I whispered into her hair.

She leaned back into me. “I know.”

I pressed a kiss to her temple.

“You’re going to make her into the coolest little human,” she said. “You already are.”

“She’s going to be terrifying,” I murmured.

“She already is.”

“I’ll never win an argument again.”

“Nope.”

“I can live with that.”

Later, we went for a walk. The sun was out, miraculously. I pushed the pram while Y/N held my hand and pointed out dogs we should definitely adopt, despite already having our hands full.

The baby slept through most of it. Occasionally snorted. Once let out a dramatic sigh like life was simply exhausting.

I looked down at her, bundled in her blanket, face all soft and squishy, and I swear I felt something shift inside me again. Like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

I was hers. That simple.

Wholly. Totally.

That night, after bath time and stories and a long round of why are you crying if you’re sleepy??, we finally got her down. The flat was quiet again. Still.

Y/N curled up next to me on the sofa, both of us half-asleep, half-listening to the monitor.

“She’s perfect,” I said.

“You’ve said that six times today.”

“Still true.”

She smiled, tucking herself into my side.

“You’re doing better than you think, you know,” she whispered.

“So are you.”

“Bit of a team, aren’t we?”

“The best kind.”

A pause.

Then, softly:

“Thank you. For making me a dad.”

She looked up at me, eyes glassy.

“No,” I whispered. “Thank you. For this little person we made. For all of it.”

Father’s Day, I realised, wasn’t about me.

It wasn’t even really about dads.

It was about them the people who make you one.

Her. Y/N. The family we made from scratch.

And maybe that’s the best gift of all.

[getaandlucius]

A brief taste of honey (emperor Geta story)

Geta is being held captive by Lucius and becomes sad and depressed after his brother Caracalla gets killed. Someone unexpected (Lucius/Paul Mescal) takes care of him. Fluffy/smutty. Please leave a comment if you want another part 💕

Themes: war, love, male intimacy in the ancient times

Warnings: nudity, a little smutty, fluff and mentioning of depression

On his way back from the training grounds to his private quarters, Lucius encountered Marcella, one of the servants assigned to Geta in his new imprisonment: a spacious room in the south wing.

“Lucius, you can’t be serious,” she protested, ignoring any regard for rank or propriety and grabbed him by his arms. “You’re putting me in a room with him? You might as well throw me into a cage with a wild animal!”

“There are two guards posted outside and two inside,” Lucius replied calmly. “If he lays a finger on you, they will intervene.”

“Why me?” she demanded.

“Because he needs a woman’s touch. No—your touch. You’re a healer, intelligent and empathetic. As vile a person as he may be, and as poor a ruler as he was, he needs that now. I need him to survive and regain his health.” He kept to himself that she was also very beautiful, and knowing Geta appreciated the finer things in life, he hoped he would listen to Marcella's soft words and advice.

“Fine. But if anything happens to me, it’s your conscience.”

“I’m aware,” Lucius replied sincerely.

A week later, Lucius returned from a diplomatic trip to Ostia. His first stop was the south wing to check on Geta’s condition.

To his surprise he found Marcella and Athena sitting outside the room with the guards, working on some needlework.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, knitting his brows together.

“Oh. He begged us to leave the room,” Marcella replied, straightening her shoulders. “We didn’t protest, to be fair." she added. "We couldn’t bear the crying anymore—well, wailing, really.”

“He’s also refusing to eat—or bathe,” Athena added, wrinkling her nose. “He’s getting rather… pungent.”

Lucius groaned softly. “Has he eaten anything at all?”

“Some fruit, I think. But he complained about the variety offered.”

Lucius nodded grimly and ordered the guards to open the door.

Inside, Geta was perched on the windowsill, his head drooping. When Lucius entered, Geta lifted his face, revealing red, tear-swollen eyes and damp cheeks.

Lucius walked over to the window and stood before him. “What is it that you want, Geta?”

“To die,” Geta replied in a voice still thick with tears.

“No. Anything but that.”

He met Lucius’ gaze. “That’s all I want.”

“Starving yourself won’t bring your brother back,” Lucius said, keeping a safe distance to avoid an outburst.

“No,” Geta murmured, his voice breaking. “But it might bring me to him.”

“Don’t speak like that.”

“Just… leave me alone. I want to be alone,” he replied, voice heavy with exhaustion.

“What you need is a bath.”

“No.”

“You smell.”

“I couldn’t care less.”

Lucius sighed, lifting his hands in the air. “Fine. I’ll leave then." He bent a little forward. "After you drink some water, at least.”

Geta didn’t respond so Lucius fetched a cup, holding it out until Geta finally took it, sipping slowly. Lucius found himself staring at his face, the stark contrast of his eyes against the fairness of his skin and hair. He was such a strange creature to look at.

When the cup was empty, Lucius took it from him. “I’ll return in a few days.”

----

Three days later, Lucius found the room quiet. Marcella and Athene were in the sunroom, reading.

“He’s still asleep,” Marcella warned as Lucius passed by.

It was late in the afternoon. This was a bad sign.

Lucius stepped into the sleeping quarters, his eyes adjusting slowly to the dim light. The air felt heavy with the stillness of sleep. Geta’s right arm hung limply over the edge of the bed, the other tucked beneath his cheek. He was still lost to the world, his features slack and unguarded. The skin of his bare back gleamed pale as marble against the deep blue of the linens, a thin sheet draped over his lower half.

Lucius hesitated, then knelt next to the bed. He reached out to shake Geta’s shoulder gently. His skin was warm under his fingers. When Geta didn’t stir, Lucius shook harder.

“No,” Geta croaked, voice thick with sleep, turning his face away. “Leave.”

“It’s nearly evening,” Lucius said. “You’re going to bathe and then join me for supper.”

“I said no.” He moved to the other side of the bed.

Lucius groaned in frustration. Without warning, he bent over the bed, grasped Geta’s arm, and hauled him toward the edge. Wrapping the sheet more securely around him, he slung Geta over his shoulder.

Geta shrieked and kicked, his protests ringing loudly through the halls, but Lucius held firm. Ignoring the wide-eyed stares of Marcella and Athena, he marched toward the bathing house, taking a shortcut to avoid prying eyes. He had no interest in feeding the gossip that already thrived in Rome.

At the bathhouse, Lucius considered tossing Geta into the water, sheet and all, but thought better of it. He suspected Geta knew not how to swim and didn’t want the hassle of fishing him out. Instead, he set him down firmly on his feet.

Geta clutched the sheet tightly, his eyes darting toward a group of men passing nearby. Lucius followed his gaze and decided to drag him to a smaller, unheated bath at the back, one rarely used by anyone.

“We forgot the cleaning supplies.” Lucius remembered then. “ ’ll fetch some from the servants.” Geta gave a brief nod, and Lucius left.

When he returned with honey, oil, and a soda mixture for his hair, he found Geta had not moved an inch.

"Go on, then," Lucius ordered.

Geta hesitated, clutching the sheet. It made Lucius uncomfortably aware of the situation. Nudity was commonplace in their world, but something about this moment felt strange and a little wrong. Lucius turned his gaze to the wall as Geta let the sheet fall to the ground. After a moment, Geta's hand drifted into view, reaching out for the flask of oil. Lucius handed it over and looked away again as Geta began rubbing it into his skin, wondering to himself why he was still standing there like a statue instead of just leaving him to it.

After a while, Geta placed the flask back into Lucius' hand, but instead of reaching for the strigil, he came closer and stood before him, his back facing him and his head bent forward slightly. Lucius frowned in confusion, then realized that Geta was wordlessly asking for help.

Lucius inhaled sharply and tensed, dropping some oil into his palm. He was well aware that this was not his responsibility. There were male and female servants available who could perform this task. Yet, he found himself dutifully starting to apply the oil to Geta’s skin—beginning at his neck and then moving down between his shoulder blades. He kept his touches clinical, distant, not letting his eyes wander. He was simply helping him, he reminded himself.

As he was working with his hands, he was taken aback by the smoothness of Geta’s skin. It was so unlike his own, softer than most women’s he had touched. It felt like the skin of a peach—easily bruised, and delicate like silk. He applied some pressure, and heard Geta’s breath hitch slightly, as though he feared being hurt. Lucius wanted to tell him it was okay, that he could relax and trust him, but he kept his mouth shut. He let his hand drift lower, reaching Geta's lower spine, where he lingered for a moment -almost shy, not daring to move any further.

When Geta’s back was covered, Lucius took a jar of raw honey and began rubbing it into his skin, mixing it with the oil to moisturize and smoothen it. He then took the bronze strigil and began softly scraping the mixture off.

Lucius swallowed when he reached Geta’s buttocks, awkwardly gliding the copper over his skin, briefly dipping into the crease. He even knelt down to reach Geta’s calves.

No words were exchanged—Geta simply allowed him to do it. When Lucius finished with the back, he handed the strigil and honey to Geta.

“You can reach the rest,” he murmured in a low voice.

Geta met his gaze, and said, "Thank you." There was a strange pride in his air, in the way he held his chin. A new-found confidence, while Lucius' had weakened.

Lucius gave a nod in acknowledgment. "Meet me in the dining hall after you've washed off." He replied and left, cheeks flushed with the intimacy of the moment.

Next part:  Part 4

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to read more: there are two previous parts on my page. If you’d like more parts, please leave a comment 💗

[hunterofartemis7]

Pt.10

Damain: well?

Asshole doctor: I have nothing to apologize for! She’s just a teenager with and her pregnancy hormones make her exaggerate!

Jason; pregnancy hormones!?

Raven:…..

Kori: shit

Tim: you’re pregnant!?

Raven:..*nods, tearing up again* I wanted to tell you myself…..😣

Jason: *draws his knife* okay so not only will you pay for making her cry the first time and insulting her, but also for ruining her chance to tell us she’s pregnant on her own terms!

Asshole doctor: you can’t do anything to me! We’re in a hospital! The security will have you arrested!

Tim: good point. *drags him outside by his hair*

Damian: *smirks*

Dick: we got this asshole covered little d. Go back with Rae and see your baby.

Raven: thanks dick..

Dick: don’t mention it, and congratulations!! *hugs her tightly* we are so celebrating after now I gotta go! *runs after Tim*

Jason: *ruffles her hair* congratulations kiddo. *follows dick and Tim outside*

Very Nice doctor: Miss? Are you ready?

Raven: *nods*

Very Nice doctor: alright. *brings her back in the room with Damian and Kori* Did he check any vitals before being an ass?

Raven: no…

Very nice doctor: I’m sorry Hun. I don’t know why he wasn’t fired yet. *checks her blood pressure, blood sugar, heart rate breathing etc.*

Damian: *staring her down like a hawk*

Very nice doctor: don’t worry sir, I’m got gonna hurt her

Damian: hm

Very nice doctor: well your BP is a bit high, but that’s to be expected considering what just happened. Blood sugar is also a bit lower than we’d like, but Your heart and lungs sound good.

Raven:..is that gonna hurt the baby?

Very nice doctor: right now it shouldn’t. You’re stressed so it’s understandable to have a higher BP than normal. Your blood sugar is more what I’m worried about. Have you eaten anything today?

Raven: yeah..but I can’t keep anything down

Very nice doctor: how often are you throwing up?

Raven: pretty often..I don’t exact times

VND: that’s okay hun. And it says in your records your anemic right?

Raven: *nods*

VND: are you on any iron supplements?

Raven: no ma’am..

VND: okay. If its alright I’d like to put you on some for the rest of the pregnancy, as well as prenatal vitamins and some meds to help with the nausea

Kori: are all these meds good for her?

VND: yes. One is just vitamins, the other is similar, mostly just to get some iron in her system. The nausea meds are the only “medication” she’ll actually be on. And don’t worry, I won’t prescribe her anything that wasn’t safe for her and baby.

Kori: okay.

VND: now with all that out of the way, you ready to see your baby?

Raven: yes!!

VND: *smiles* okay, lay down hun.

Raven: *lays down on the bed*

VND: *puts a blanket over her and pulls her hospital gown up* fair warning, this is gonna be cold. *gets that weird jell stuff that they use for ultrasound and puts it on her belly*

Raven: *flinched from the cold*

VND: sorry

Raven: it’s okay..

Damian: *holds her hand beside her*

Raven: *small squeeze*

VND: you ready?

Raven: yes

VND: *puts the wand (I think that’s what it’s called) on her abdomen*

Raven: *watching the screen waiting to see the baby*

VND: *points at the small bean* and there’s your baby

Raven:..🥹

Damian: *smiles with happy tears in his eyes* it’s small🥹

VND: yes it is. Your 6 weeks right now, and baby has a strong heart beat

Kori: 🥹 it’s so precious..

Raven: *happy crying* our baby..*looks at Damian* I can’t wait to meet it..🥹

Damian: *kisses her and her belly* I can’t wait either. I’m already in love with it

VND: you two are adorable

*meanwhile outside*

Cop: so one more time….why are you beating up a doctor?🤦🏻‍♀️

Jason: cause he is very very rude and unprofessional to his patients and made our sister in law to be cry.

Tim: and we have about 200+ different complaints about him that the hospital keeps throwing in the trash

Cop:….i don’t get paid enough

[sellasstories]

SWEET

word count: 1.5k

pairing: paige bueckers x azzi fudd

⚠️warnings⚠️

hurt/comfort, angst, swearing

prompts:

paige is upset at her team and misses azzi

pazzi are each other’s person but haven’t figured out exactly what that means

title from the cas song (somewhat inspired)

Paige breathed a sigh of relief when the final buzzer sounded. It should’ve been a relatively easy game, but this season had been anything but easy so far and she hadn’t been taking anything for granted, especially since Azzi got hurt again.

Azzi…. through the photos, autographs, and media, Paige couldn’t help her mind from drifting back to her. Azzi, her rock, her person, her best friend… maybe that last one wasn’t quite right anymore. They hadn’t put a label on anything yet, but she didn’t think that the parameters of “best friends” quite explained what they were to each other.

All she knew was that Azzi should’ve been a part of the win, not laying in a hospital bed. She knew sitting there watching must’ve been killing Azzi as much as it was killing Paige to not have her on the floor.

The team was already chattering excitedly when she stepped onto the bus.

“There she is! P-SKIII!” cheered KK, trying to get her to join in on whatever silly dance her and Aubrey were doing.

“Thanks KK, but I’m too tired for all this. I think I’mma go pass out in the back if anyone needs me.” She ignored the confused looks of most of her teammates.

Aaliyah must have seen the look in her eyes because she spoke up suddenly. “You guys heard her, her back hurts from carrying your sorry asses with her 34 and 12!”

As everyone laughed, Paige shot Aaliyah a grateful look and went to sit down. After making sure that no one was paying any attention to her, she pulled out her phone and called Azzi, who picked up almost immediately.

“Congratulations! I watched the whole thing and I’m so proud of you guys!” Azzi’s excitement was painfully fake, even over the phone.

“Thanks,” Paige mumbled hollowly. “You know you don’t have to pretend with me, right?”

“I know, it’s just that you finally got a win and we really need those right now and I… didn’t wanna take away from that, I guess,” Azzi sighed. Her voice had lost all its prior enthusiasm.

Paige wasn’t prepared for how broken Azzi sounded. Despite her best efforts to blink them back, her eyes began to fill with tears. “Don’t worry about anything like that. It wasn’t a good win and we both know it. I guess I played fine, but where is the rest of this fucking team?”

Paige knew it was unfair, but she couldn’t stop herself from saying it. “Where are you, Az? I need you.”

The call lapsed into silence, Paige trying to stop the tears from leaking out of her eyes while, alone in a hospital bed, Azzi’s cheeks were already wet.

“No, Azzi, stop it. You’re not allowed to be crying right now,” Paige leaned her head against the bus window.

“How did you kno- whatever, you’re literally crying too, baby,” Azzi was quick to reply when she heard the tremor in the other girl’s voice. “I should be there for you, I don’t know why shit like this keeps happening.”

Paige gave up on wiping the tears now freely flowing down her face.

“I can’t have you crying because of me, I can’t. It’s just a game- well it’s not just a game but it’s also not your life. You shouldn’t have this — shouldn’t have my problems — on your mind as well! It’s not fair to you, it just isn’t.” She went silent, realizing she’d let slip more than she’d intended to.

“How can you even say that when you’ve cried over me more times than I can remember?” Azzi asked incredulously. “You’re right, Paige, it’s not just a game, it’s your whole life, and mine! It’s the reason I’m here right now, still fighting for a chance at one of the most important things in the world to me, to both of us.”

So many miles away, Paige’s broken sigh was a shot straight through Azzi’s heart.

“I’m tired, Azzi. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be… I miss you.” The last part was whispered like a confession, Paige seemingly still not sure if it was something that she could just say.

“I know, P. None of this is fair. I miss you too.” It came out easier for Azzi. She’d always been better at stuff like that.

Neither girl knew what to say after that, the only sounds on the call being soft breathing and faint sounds of rain hitting the bus’s windows.

“It’s raining here, like a lot. It’s kinda soothing if you close your eyes,” Paige broke the silence, her voice a bit rough.

Azzi wiped her eyes, squinting at the curtains drawn over the window in her room. “I think it’s raining here too,” she finally said.

Paige sat in silence as she listened to Azzi call for a nurse to come open her window.

“It is kinda nice, you’re right.” Azzi took a deep breath as the soft pattering of raindrops filled her ears.

“Can I say that I miss you again?” Paige asked after another long silence.

“You can say anything to me.” Azzi’s voice was suddenly groggy.

“It’s late. I think you should go to sleep. I’ll see you when I get back.” Paige couldn’t hide the fondness in her voice.

“No, I’ll stay up with you. I’m not even tired, I promise.” Azzi tried to argue despite the heaviness of her voice.

Paige waited a while before answering. “You know it’s gonna be another couple of hours. I don’t mind, I promise.” She mirrored Azzi’s words.

There was nothing but silence on the line.

“Hey, Az?” Getting no response, Paige listened for a few minutes before she hung up, Azzi’s peaceful deep breathing eventually coming through.

She looked ahead at her teammates still celebrating and decided she’d just try to get some sleep herself.

•••••

The light knocking on Azzi’s door blended with the sounds of the rain, not waking her up. “I can come back tomorrow, she should probably sleep,” Paige sighed, trying to hide how close she was to breaking down again.

“Are you sure? I think she’d want to see you,” The nurse looked confused. “She seemed quite adamant when she told me to let you in any time, no matter what.”

Paige was speechless. It wasn’t even all that surprising as she knew that she’d do the same for Azzi, but the confirmation of those feelings being reciprocated meant a lot more to Paige than she thought it would.

Seeing Paige’s indecision, the nurse placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m just going to unlock the door for you, honey, and you can figure out what you want to do,” she said kindly. “You’re a great girlfriend, by the way,” she tossed over her shoulder as she walked away.

“We’re not-” Paige started to say automatically, trailing off when she realized that she liked other people thinking of her and Azzi that way.

After hesitating outside the door for another minute, Paige slowly turned the handle, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Azzi’s room was dark, the only light being the sliver coming in from the hallway. It illuminated her sleeping face, and she looked so peaceful that Paige almost left again, not wanting to disturb her at all.

Shutting the door, Paige was fumbling for the switch on a lamp in the corner of the room when she heard Azzi’s blankets rustle.

“…Paige?” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes as Paige located the switch and light flooded the room.

“Hey, I’m here,” Paige said softly.

Azzi opened her arms and Paige crawled into her bed, neither of them minding that the size of it forced their bodies to be pressed against each other.

“I’m sorry I fell asleep,” Azzi pressed her lips to the top of Paige’s head, her fingers combing through blonde hair.

Paige lifted her head to meet Azzi’s eyes. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you were actually resting like you were supposed to be,” she smirked, dodging the other girl’s attempt to flick her forehead.

Azzi’s retort was cut off by Paige’s lips pressing against hers, both girls smiling into the kiss. They pulled apart, foreheads pressed together.

In the intimacy of their little bubble, Azzi allowed a confession to slip out. “I’m glad you came. It means a lot.” The words may not have been anything novel, but she could tell that Paige understood why she said them so solemnly.

“Azzi, I…” Paige swallowed, embarrassed, and buried her face in Azzi’s neck.

“I know you do, P,” Azzi reassured her with a soft smile. “Me too. You don’t have to say it.” She knew that Paige wasn’t ready, and that was okay. She was here in Azzi’s arms, and for now, that was more than enough.

[merrybloomwrites]

I Like to Watch - Harry x Louis x Reader

Summary: When you're boyfriends ignore you on a day you thought you'd spend together, you begin to act out. The punishment doesn't go as planned, leading to the boys taking care of you after.

Word Count: 4K

CW: BDSM themes, dom/sub themes, spanking, punishment, use of safeword, subspace, subdrop, aftercare

AN: This story contains BDSM themes but is in no way a rulebook for these types of relationships. Always do your research before taking part in a dynamic like this. All aspects in play are discussed by the characters and agreed upon prior to the story.

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There are a fair number of people that know about your relationship with Harry and Louis. Your families, close friends, some lawyers and members of Harry and Louis’s respective teams. 

But no one, not even your best friends, know about that special part of your relationship. It’s a secret the three of you protect wholeheartedly. Because if someone were to slip up and reveal that the three of you were dating, and have been for almost three years, well that you guys could handle. But if the whole world discovered you also dabbled in BDSM? That would be much harder to come back from, and the consequences to both of your boyfriends careers could be devastating. 

So you keep this information just between the three of you. It brings you even closer together, having something that is just for you. 

It started about a year after the three of you were officially together. And it started subtly. Little ways in which Louis would act in the bedroom. It was clear quite quickly that Louis is purely dominant in nature. He never submitted to either of you. You know this need to be in charge comes from years of being told what to do by management. So much of his life is dictated by other people, and this is the one place he can take complete control.

Harry sometimes feels this way as well. Occasionally, he’ll help Louis and the two of them will be the perfect pair of doms for you. Other times, he needs to turn his brain off, and spends a night submitting to Louis alongside you. 

But you always submit. In the bedroom, at least. For you it’s a lovely escape to let the two men you love and trust have control of you. When it comes to your relationship, you’re in charge of most of the day to day life stuff. You do the cooking, the cleaning, the scheduling, all of the at home mental load falls on your shoulders. 

But when the three of you do a scene together, you can just let go and take what they’re giving. You’re aware that technically the submissive truly runs how the scene goes, that if you’re uncomfortable about anything Louis will immediately stop to check on you. 

Due to their busy schedules it’s hard to find time to do scenes together. They take time and planning, and Louis always wants a free day after, in case you or Harry falls deep in subspace and needs extra time to recover the next day. Of course you all have plenty of vanilla sex, but the more intense stuff only happens on occasion. 

The last scene you all did together, in which Louis and Harry tied you up, edged you until you were crying, then made you come multiple times, was almost three weeks ago. Which is maybe what caused you to start acting out. 

You wake up on a beautiful Friday morning, the start of a three day weekend with nothing planned. You’d hinted the night before that it would be a good opportunity for a little extra fun, but you’re not sure they got the message. The bed is empty, no warm body next to you, no fingers gently rubbing your back, no lips meeting yours in a good morning kiss.

So no, not exactly how you’d hoped to wake up.

You decide to get dressed before heading downstairs. If Louis and Harry can’t bother to lay with you in bed on a day off, they certainly don’t deserve to see you in your panties and t-shirt, a sight they both adore. 

The kitchen is empty, no sign of either of your boyfriends. Disappointed by their absence, you grab a banana, a bowl of cereal, and brew yourself some tea. 

After finishing your breakfast you clean up, and try to locate the boys. It’s weird that they’re hidden away; normally days without work mean the three of you doing everything together. It takes a minute for you to find Louis. He’s in the home office, and when you peek in to say hi he holds up a finger, telling you to wait since he’s on a phone call. 

Bothered by the obvious brush off, you keep searching, and finally find Harry in the studio. “Good morning love,” he says. “I woke up with an idea and just have to get this on paper before I forget. I’ll be out soon,” he continues before turning back to his notebook. 

Well, at least he looked you in the eyes and spoke to you. Bare minimum in your mind. 

Feeling very put out, you walk back to the living room. Sitting on the couch, you scan the walls. You thought you had finished decorating this room months ago, but something about it has been bothering you. It felt like something was missing. 

Finally, you decide that it’s the huge blank spot on the one wall. It needs a piece of artwork to fill in the space. For the next half hour you scour the internet and find the absolute perfect piece. Just the right size, color pattern matching the palate of the room, and the art style exactly what you all like. The only issue is the price. 

Not that there wasn’t enough money in your shared account to more than cover it. But technically you’d finished decorating the house already. So anything else that’s considered a big ticket item needs to be discussed between the three of you. 

The first thing you do is reach out to the seller to express interest. At least get the ball rolling until you could talk to the boys. After a few minutes of back and forth emailing, you learn there’s another interested buyer. So now there’s a time constraint or you’ll lose the piece. 

Another hour passes with no signs of either of them, and you make the executive decision to seal the deal. With confirmation that the painting is now yours, you feel slightly better. 

Realizing that you probably need to entertain yourself a bit longer you grab the book you’re reading and settle in. Two chapters later you finally hear Louis voice call out, “Love, where are you?”

Despite your annoyance at being brushed off earlier, you can’t help but smile when he walks in the room. 

“There you are,” he says. “I just got an alert about a purchase for over 6 grand on one of our cards. Do you know anything about that or is it a potential scam?”

Of course. That’s what got his attention. You keep the smile on your face so as to not look guilty for breaking a rule and explain, “That was me. I found a painting that will finally complete this room. Even Harry said it felt like something was missing.”

“Okay, but you’re supposed to talk about big purchases with us first,” he replies. 

“There was another buyer. I had to act fast and you two were both so busy I didn’t want to interrupt.” There. Now you look like a thoughtful girlfriend.

 “Alright, just make sure we can have a conversation before you buy anything else that’s not a necessity. I’ve got a couple more calls to make before I can wrap up for the day.”

Louis walks away, and your good mood leaves with him. How dare he come out just to lecture you? And he didn’t even look at the painting you chose. He didn’t even greet you, or give you a good morning kiss. 

And looking at the clock, it’s actually already afternoon. And you’ve barely seen your boyfriends. On a day that they weren’t supposed to be working. 

Letting out an annoyed sigh you get up to make yourself lunch. You take your time, grilling some veggies and chicken as well as making a dressing and putting together a delicious salad. You eat slowly out on the patio, phone propped in front of you playing your favorite show. 

Eventually the door opens and both Harry and Louis walk out to join you. 

“You ate lunch without us?” Harry asks. 

“It’s almost 2 in the afternoon,” you reply. 

“Shit, is it really that late?” Louis says. 

“Yea, I finished eating a while ago. I’m gonna go clean up. There’s more of everything in the fridge if you want to make your own.” With that you grab your plate and walk inside. You wash your dishes, taking out some of your irritation by scrubbing everything meticulously. 

The boys come back inside and Harry says, “We’re gonna run into town for a little bit, got a couple of things to pick up. We’ll be back by 4.” They each give you one quick kiss, and just like that, they’re gone and you’re left all alone. Again. 

Since they would be gone for two hours you decide to put in a movie to pass the time. Normally you would clean, or organize, do something productive. But you had finished all the chores yesterday expecting to be busy hanging with the boys today. But no, they were too busy for you. 

You grow more frustrated, and by the time the movie is halfway over you’ve come up with a plan. 

See, normally you would never do what you’re about to do. The dynamic that the three of you have is mostly reserved for when you specifically do scenes. But you do have a couple rules to follow all the time, the most important being: your pleasure belongs to them. Meaning that touching yourself without their permission is not allowed. 

And you like that rule. You’d rather get off with them than alone. Masturbating used to be a chore to you, just a means to an end. Orgasms are just so much better when Louis or Harry (or both of them) is the cause. 

But right now you don’t care. If they’re not going to give you pleasure, you’ll do it yourself. Rules be damned. 

You turn the movie off and go to the bedroom. It’s been a while since you’ve done this, and it feels a little silly when you start. But after removing your clothes and laying on the bed you shut your eyes and just do what feels natural. 

You go slow, starting by teasingly running your fingertips along your skin. Time passes, and you’re lost in these touches, hands moving to your breasts, then down to gently rub against your clit. 

But just as you’re really getting into it, you hear a voice next to the bed say, “And what do you think you’re doing?” You startle, not having heard the boys get home. However there’s no denying Louis standing there looking quite serious. Harry is next to him, intrigued and maybe a little excited, like he knows what’s going to happen next. 

“I asked you a question,” Louis says. 

“I’m taking care of myself,” you reply, an edge of sass in your tone. 

“You know you’re not supposed to do that without my permission. That’s the second rule you’ve broken today. Almost like someone wants to be punished.”

Maybe he isn’t wrong. Maybe you were acting out on purpose. Either way, it looks like you’re finally getting what you want: their attention. 

“Lay on the bed, on your stomach, hands holding onto the rails of the headboard,” he commands.

“Yes sir,” you reply before doing as told. You feel vulnerable, laying there naked while they’re still fully dressed. But part of you likes that, thrives on that power dynamic, loves the embarrassment that comes with being so exposed. 

“Harry?” Louis says. 

“Yes, sir?” Harry replies. Okay, so Harry wants to sub today too. The easiest tell is simply how he addresses Louis. Using his proper title means Harry wants to give up some control today as well. 

“You’ve been a good boy lately. Though you did wear a shirt that says ‘I like to watch’ at the ballet last week. Very cheeky of you. Still not enough for a punishment so how about some pleasurable torture? Have you sit on the chair in the corner and watch as I punish our girl and then reward her after. Listen to her sweet sounds and not be able to do anything about it. Maybe tie you to the seat and give you a gag so you’re not tempted to misbehave. How does that sound?”

“Good, sir,” comes Harry’s breathless reply. 

“What’s your color?” Louis asks. 

“Green.”

“For which parts?”

“All of it,” Harry replies without pause. “Green for the restraints, green for the gag. I watch to watch without touching.”

“Very well. Sit on the chair. Clothes stay on.” There’s a lot of noise behind you as Harry does as he’s told. You hear Louis ask Harry if it’s too tight, to which Harry replies, “No, it’s perfect.” Okay, so Harry is now tied to the chair. You could turn and watch what’s happening, but you don’t have permission to and the last thing you should do right now is break another rule. 

“And you still want the gag?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright. How do you give your color when you can’t speak?”

“With the clicker,” Harry answers. There’s more movement then Louis says, “Practice your colors. What is green?” You hear one click. “And yellow?” Two clicks. “Red?” You hear multiple rapid clicks, the unspoken signal for red. 

“Good boy,” Louis says, and you hate that Harry is getting praised when you’re getting punished. It’s not fair. 

“And now for our naughty girl,” Louis says, much closer than before but still standing out of your view. “What should I do with you?”

Your belly tingles, with nerves, with excitement, with arousal. It’s always crazy to you, how a scene can fill you with so many contrasting feelings. 

Louis hand gently slides along your bum, this first touch nearly electric after being left alone for so long. “I think we’ll stick to a classic today. A spanking to remind you who’s in control here.”

You’re almost shocked at the simplicity. It’s been a while since you’ve been spanked, the three of you often doing more creative punishments. But you find yourself craving it. You don’t love the pain, since you don’t really have a pain kink. However you do love how perfectly submissive it makes you feel. Laying out, bare ass on display turning redder each time Louis hand or paddle comes in contact with your skin. And the aftercare is always wonderful, soft hand rubbing lotion on your stinging skin, quiet praises of how well you did, and hours of cuddles. 

For all of these reasons you reply with a quick, “Green, sir,” when Louis asks for your color. 

“Very well. I’m going to warm up with my hand,” Louis informs you. 

His hand, which had been resting on you, is removed, and you brace yourself for the first smack. When it doesn’t come for a few seconds you relax. Big mistake. 

Sharp slaps are given to both of your cheeks, and you let out an involuntary gasp. You quickly clamp your mouth shut, afraid you’ll get in more trouble for making a sound. Louis notices and says, “You may make noises, but I don’t want to hear you speak unless it’s to call a color. You can always color at any time, understand?” He’s gentler at the end, slipping out of his dominant persona for a second to reassure you.

“I understand, sir,” you reply, knowing these are the last words you’ll be speaking for a bit. 

He gives no warning before raining a series of smacks, alternating cheeks and making sure to get full coverage so no skin is left untouched. After what feels like hours but is probably only a couple minutes, he stops, hands gently rubbing the skin once again. 

You’re already feeling a little floaty, and it’s nice to sink into this special mindset. You hadn’t realized how guilty you felt about breaking the rules, but knowing that you’re going to be forgiven after the punishment has you feeling lighter. 

“You’re doing well. I’m going to switch to the paddle now. I’m thinking 6 per side for the extravagant purchase this morning, and another 6 per side for touching yourself without permission. So 24 total with the paddle. What is your color?”

“Green, sir,” you reply, your voice taking on an airy quality and alerting Louis that you’re starting to slip. He checks your face and sees no signs of pain or distress, and can tell that it’s the good kind of floatiness you’re feeling. 

The first hit comes, and it’s more intense than you remember. You don’t love the paddle, you prefer Louis' hand since then you can feel him. But you’re not supposed to like it. This is a punishment after all, and once you get through these spanks, you won’t have to feel guilty. And you’ll get a reward. So it’s all worth it. 

A few more smacks come, and you slip further into subspace with each thud of the paddle against your sore bottom. Your surroundings start to blur, all you can feel are the sheets below you and the wood of the paddle, all you hear is the repetitive swing and thud of it moving through the air. 

The feelings of loneliness from earlier start to flood back in. You remember how much you wanted to hear the boys, see them, feel them touching you. And they’re still not there. 

You think they came in the room with you, but now everything is fuzzy. What if they’re not actually there? Did your mind make that up? What if some awful machine is controlling the paddle and it just keeps hitting you forever? 

You aren’t aware of the sounds you’re making, how your quiet grunts turn into gasping breaths, but Louis notices. The swats stop and finally you hear Louis' voice, but it sounds like it’s coming from underwater. 

“What’s your color?” He asks. 

You know you should answer, that one word will make this stop, but you can’t think of what it is. 

“Baby, can you tell me what your color is?” He asks again. 

He turns your head so his eyes can see your glazed, unfocused one. When his face finally comes into your view, all you can say is “daddy” through a broken sob. 

Immediately Louis knows what you can’t tell him: that your color is red. Internally he’s kicking himself, mad and disappointed in himself that he pushed you too far, that he didn’t see the signs that it was too much, that you were slipping too deep. 

“It’s okay baby, daddy’s here, I’ve got you,” he says. 

You hear two clicks from the corner of the room, but you can’t currently remember what that means. Louis knows, and he can’t believe he did such a poor job that both his subs needed to color during the same scene. 

“Baby girl, I just need to check on Harry and I’ll be right back.” There’s a shuffling noise, then a piece of fabric is placed on the bed next to you. It’s soft, and smells like Louis. You clutch the sweater in your arms as he walks to the other side of the room. 

“Harry, what’s wrong?” Louis asks as he removes the gag. 

“Nothing, I’m ok, just please untie me so I can help with Y/N,” Harry replies. 

“Okay. Are you in headspace at all?”

“No, completely coherent,” Harry answers. 

You hear the conversation but it has somewhat of a dreamy quality since you’re still so deep in subspace. A moment later, gentle arms are shifting you, dressing you in clean boxers and an oversized t-shirt. Someone lifts you off the bed, before placing you back down so you’re cradled sideways on a lap. 

“Daddy?” You ask.

“I’m here baby,” Louis replies, letting you know that he’s the one holding you. The bed shifts and you watch with bleary eyes as Harry sits against the headboard next to Louis. He lifts your legs to drape them over his lap and runs his hands up and down your shins. 

“How do you feel?” Louis asks. 

“Good,” you sigh. 

“You sure? You were pretty upset just a minute ago baby,” Louis continues. 

“Yea but now you and Harry are here. I just didn’t like being alone.”

“We’ve been here the whole time, lovey,” Harry says, and you try to focus your eyes on his face.

“No you weren’t, you were both gone and I was all alone.”

“Do you mean earlier when we went and ran some errands?” Louis questions. 

“No. Here. Just now. You both left. I couldn’t see you, or hear you or anything. There was no one here and it just hurt because the paddle kept going and I didn’t know if it'd ever stop because neither of you were here to make it end,” you explain with tears starting to roll down your face. 

“It’s okay baby, we’re here, we’ve got you,” Louis says. 

“We’re both here, we’re not going to leave you,” Harry says and he leans over to gently wipe the tears off your cheeks. 

The three of you stay like that, the boys holding you and whispering reassurances that they’re still there. Finally, you start to come up from your subspace. 

“Hi there,” Harry says, seeing your eyes focus on his. 

“Hi,” you shyly reply. 

“You back with us?” Louis asks, his lips pressed against your hair. 

“I’m back,” you confirm. 

“Are you ready to tell us what happened, or do you need some time?” He questions next. 

“I’m ready. I guess I was just sad and upset that you both were too busy for me today. And then it kind of turned into a sensory deprivation thing when I started slipping. I couldn’t see either of you, and no one was making noise, and then when you used the paddle I couldn’t feel you either. My brain just started spiraling and coming up with all of these crazy scenarios. And then I couldn’t call red because I’d convinced myself no one was there to hear it.”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice what was happening sooner,” Louis says. “Is there anything extra you need for aftercare?”

“Just stay with me. I need to know you guys are here with me.”

“We can do that,” Louis says. 

“Absolutely, we’re not leaving your side for a second,” Harry adds. 

They keep this promise all weekend. After a few more minutes of cuddling they start the next step of your standard aftercare, getting you juice and a snack, followed by a bath. Louis gently dries you off and rubs lotion on your bottom to help with the sting. 

They spend the rest of the weekend absolutely doting on you. Harry insists on carrying you almost everywhere you go, and cooks all the meals that the three of you enjoy together. 

Saturday is spent mostly in the living room watching movies. You experience a mild sub drop, feeling cold and small, and the boys keep you cocooned in blankets while they take turns holding you in their laps. They keep reassuring you that you're good, that they’re not mad, that they love you. 

Their constant care helps regulate your emotions, and by Sunday you’re feeling better. Your painting arrives and Harry helps hang it. They both compliment it, and everyone agrees it ties the room together perfectly. 

Even though you insist you’re feeling just fine by Sunday evening, they insist on taking Monday off as well. You all go on a scenic drive, windows down to breathe in the fresh air. Harry and Louis surprise you with a packed picnic lunch which you eat in a lovely meadow. 

Two weeks later, when the three of you have your next scene together, Harry and Louis take turns focusing completely on you. This time it’s about your pleasure, them giving you as much of it as you can take, their hands never leaving you for a second as they worship your body together. 

And when you wake up each morning wrapped in their arms, you know everything is going to be just fine.

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Thank you for reading! I do have two more Harry x Louis x reader stories planned, but requests are open!

[whyse7vn]

KIM SEOKJIN

RIGHT:

The moment doesn’t feel real.

You stare up at the white ceiling. The room is dark you can barely see it.

It’s late. How late?

You turn your head to the left a small digital clock now in view.

11:45 PM

It’s late.

The moment doesn’t feel real.

It’s like you’re here but you’re not here.

Your gaze is on the ceiling again. Your laying on your back, fingers intertwined resting on your stomach. Your mind thinks back to the clock.

The clock, there’s a shift in the covers next to you, that’s not your clock. Your eyebrows furrow, there’s another shift.

Oh

right.

That isn’t your clock. This isn’t your bed. You turn your head to the right. His back is to you. This isn’t your house.

“Jin?”

“Mmh?”

His response is instant. He turns around and cuddles into the side of your body. His head now rests in the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath on your skin. His right arm wraps around your torso.

Suddenly you’re hyper aware of everything. The clothes you wear despite being Jin’s and way too big for you, feel as if they’re tightening around your skin. The room feels busy. Your body is hot. The part of Jin’s body that rests ontop of you feels as if it’s burning.

You tell yourself this is normal. The sharing a bed part, the cuddling part. Ten years of friendship makes this normal, for you guys anyways too many secrets shared too many embarrassing moments witnessed to freak out over such trivial things.

Ten years of friendship.

Friendship?

Today felt like anything but ten years of friendship. He had cooked for you

just for you

on valentine’s day. No questions asked no plans made he just did.

He didn’t know you were coming but still did. For you.

Just for you.

You laughed, danced a little, drank a little, cleaned together, watched a movie and now you’re in bed together.

Just as friends?

No. There was too much tension in the air today, way too much tension. Sure Jin has never really shown any outward romantic interest in you like say Jungkook and Taehyung have but then again not everyone is Jungkook and Taehyung and not everyone shows affection and like Jungkook and Taehyung do.

Maybe you’re overthinking this. No you’re definitely overthinking this. You shouldn’t even be thinking about this.

Not even a full week ago you—

Guilty.

You feel guilty now, real fucking guilty.

You breath quickens. Your mind spiralling.

Taehyung and you just— and what about Jaehyun? Would Yoongi be mad? Is Hobi really ok? You should call Jimin but have you been ignoring Kook? what about Joon?? Isn’t it Jaehyuns birthday today? And Jin—

“Hey”

His voice gentle

concerned.

It brings you out of your spiral almost instantly.

“I’m here, don’t cry i’m here”

You were crying? You hadn’t even noticed.

Jin now sits up on his side, one arm supports his weight the other gently wipes your tears away.

“Breathe with me baby, breathe you can do that f’me can’t you?”

You nod your head not trusting your voice in the moment. Tears cloud your vision. You breathe.

Nothing feels real.

“There you go, doing so well let’s slow down a little yeah? It’s just you and me i got you nothings gonna hurt you i promise”

You wordlessly nod once more and attempt to slow down your breathing.

A few “Good girl”’s and “I’m here”’s later your tears stop and your breathing is back to a somewhat normal pace.

You’re embarrassed.

“I’m sorr—”

“You don’t need to apologise”

Your hands cover your face.

“What’s on your mind?”

It’s such a simple question but it almost brings you to tears once more.

What’s on your mind?

What isn’t?

Who isn’t?

You feel disgusting. Like a whore.

It’s ironic really. You’ve been called a whore for practically your whole career by fans, friends the media sometimes as a joke other times not. But you’ve never really felt like a whore sure you’ve done your fair share of sleeping around couple dates here and there but you’ve never felt as gross as you do now.

What’s on your mind?

You think back to Jin’s question.

“You” Its partly true.

“Me?”

“Yeah”

There a beat of silence.

You’re the one to break it.

“Do you think…

i’m a bad person?”

“I could never think you’re a bad person”

He pauses.

“We could never think you’re a bad person”

“We?”

“The remaining 6 of us i don’t need to name them do i?”

He smiles at you.

You frown, you’re not convinced.

“You don’t know that though”

“I know”

“Even if—”

“Even if. Especially if.”

“What?” You’re caught off guard by his answer.

“You don’t even know what i was gonna say”

“I have my theories”

“Which are?”

“How about we got theory for theory?”

“You’re the one with the theories i’m the one with the facts”

“I guess you’re right”

“I normally am”

“Normally?”

“Yeah…don’t really know if i’ve been doing things right lately”

“Why?”

You sigh.

What do you have to lose?

You look him in the eyes.

now or never

“I-i slept with Taehyung”

“And that wasn’t right?”

“Well it was. It-it felt right it was right but i didn’t just sleep with him it was more than that and-and now i’m here with you...”

“Being with me isn’t right?”

“No! i’m not saying that i’m just saying being with you feels right too and that isn’t right”

Jin doesn’t speak.

“Like i’m feeling things for too many people and that isn’t right”

You’re met with silence again. You feel defeated. You feel stupid. You feel exposed.

“Says who?”

You look at Jin puzzled.

“Well technically no one? but thinking about everyone’s feelings tells me it’s not right”

“Now that’s not right, personally i see no wrong in you feeling right with Tae and me”

“Really?”

“Really”

“You know when i say right i mean feelings? like i mean romantic feelings“

“I know”

He caresses your face.

“I’ve known”

His last sentence hits you hard for some reason. He’s known? He’s known that you were talking about romantic feelings? Or he’s known it’s not just him and Taehyung? Maybe he had known that you never really liked Jaehyun as much as you should have? Perhaps he had known you feel guilty? Known you can barely look yourself in the mirror anymore? Or is it that he had known you almost found yourself at Jimin’s apartment today?

“You don’t owe anyone anything you know that right?”

Your eyes sting. He continues.

“You shouldn’t feel like you have to choose. I would never make you choose. I know you need the other members as much as they need you as much as i need you. If being with them feels right as much as it feels right being with me who am i to deny you?”

There’s so much you could say right now. So many things you want to say, to ask. You open your mouth to speak but the words don’t seem to find you.

You bite your lip, tears spot your vision once more. You’ve cried an awful lot today first tears of guilt and now tears of sadness? Or perhaps it’s relief? You’re unsure.

Just like you’re unsure on whether this moment is real or not. Unsure if you’re even here. Unsure if this is right.

You can barely make out Jin’s figure between your watery vision and the darkness of the room. His hand now strokes your hair.

“Thank you” The only words you’re able to say. You don’t even know what you’re thanking him for or if you’re even thanking him.

“Thank you” You repeat. The only words that feel right to say in this moment.

He kisses your forehead “Let’s get some sleep yeah?”

—

1.3k words of pure shit my fault guys 😅🤗

if it wasn’t clear this was valentine’s day here for context

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks

[mo0nfairy]

Jill with a virgin reader is making me salivate, honestly ANY Of them w a virgin reader. Ada literally can’t stop cooing and awwing at reader long enough to acc fuck them, Leons savour complex is going OFF. Carlos is crying, bcs he? Gets to be the first? And Jill asks if anyone is going to fix that, and doesn’t wait far an answer

omgggggg don't even get me started. i actually imagined y/n in unchained melody to be a virgin, since most of their adult life has been spent in umbrella's captivity. but, with most of my stories, i try to keep y/n's character as vague as i can without making them bland. so, ultimately, you all get to decide whether your reader insert is a virgin or not.

tell any of the four you are a virgin, however, and they will surely lose their minds. all in their own unique, intricate ways.

yes, leon's savior complex goes haywire, but full honesty.... he feels really guilty. of course, his delusional mind does its usual mental gymnastics. he reaches the conclusion that your virginity is because you spent these past several years saving yourself for him. and he, to put it bluntly, is a slut. sure, none of the bodies he brought to bed meant anything to him, nor did they really bring him any pleasure. but his body count is sky high, while yours hasn't lifted an inch from the ground. nonetheless, he finds comfort knowing you are the one he will lay with for the rest of his life, and vice versa.

ada, on the other hand, thinks societal standards and regulations surrounding the concept of virginity are complete bullshit. your whole disposition changes just bc of one pencil dick? yeah right..... that being said, when it is you looking up at her, all doe-eyed and shy with your confession, she can't deny the possessive, animalistic nature it stirs inside her. having complete responsibility of your pleasure and experience has her itching to sink her claws into you. more than she is willing to admit.

carlos differs from all the four as he is not the most sexual person ever. however, he has had his fair share of one night stands in the past. all that locker room talk from other soldiers turned him into a playboy, of sorts. all the names on his body count were really only there to give him an ego boost. now, with you and all your heavenly glory in his life, carlos is a changed man. virgin or not, he always treats you like your skin is made of fine china. in this scenario, however, he is horrified at the prospect of even pressing too hard on a muscle. you can have carlos as your first, of course, but be prepared to constantly soothe and assure him of your safety.

and last, but certainly not least, we have jill. oh, boy...... the words "i'm a virgin" may as well be a lethal weapon, because not a picosecond is wasted before she is tearing into you like some crazed animal. she is not soft or soothing like the others, no, she is rough and aggressive, and most importantly, cocky. constantly boasting about how you needed a real woman to fuck you right, how nobody else could make you feel the way she does, and just how fucking soul-crushing you look with her hands all over you. in the end, your confession will inevitably lead to you beneath her. and you'll be lucky if you can stand on your feet for the next few days.

my best advice, keep your sexual history a secret. whether you've brought hundreds to bed or zero, simply alluding to sex will have them all sweating and squirming with need. if you do confess, however....... i'll keep you in my prayers.....................

[back2bluesidex]

Enchanted - KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Theme: Angst with a happy ending, exes to lovers au.

Request:

HIII i want to make a request for the TS song drabble game Can you do Namjoon x Enchanted the genre maybe angst? fluffiest Its one of my favs ..this idea came to mind while remembering the lyrics.. what if Namjoon lost his memory and reader was a museum crying staring at Nam´s favorite works and then they meet and maybe they fall in love again.. leaving an open ending if he ever got his memory back or not. or maybe he did! whatever you want is fine :)

Song: Enchanted

Word count: 1k+

Warnings: Major character accident, partial amnesia, angst, pining, crying, suffering, reader gets called a bad luck.

Minors and Karens Are Not Allowed in this Blog!!

A/N: A huge thanks to you, anon, for offering this brilliant idea. I changed the storyline a bit so that it fits within a drabble length and I hope you like it.

also, a very happy birthday to our best boy Kim Namjoon. I hope he is happy and healthy just as he deserves to be.

"What are you doing here?"

"eomeoni, I- I"

"Didn't I tell you to keep your distance from now on? Didn't you ruin enough?" 

"Please.. I will - I want to see him once. Please. I promise I won’t even step near. I will just take a look. Please eomeoni?"

"No! You - You are bad luck. Look what you did to my poor son. He was rushing to see you just because you fainted and look who's laying on the death bed now!"

"eomeoni.."

"Stop calling me that! You are no one to me! you are no no one to Namjoon. Leave right away or I'll have to report you." 

The conversion reels in your head as you stare at the man from afar. 

It's been a year since that dreadful night, the worst night of your life. It's been a year since you last saw him, heard his voice, until today. 

Your heart rips apart seeing him standing so gracefully with practiced elegance. Nothing has changed. He still looks the same. It feels as if it was just yesterday when he took you to the art fair and bought you that handmade clay-framed mirror. 

But you know things are far from being so simple, if anything then everything is much more complicated than ever. 

While you still stay awake each night, spending a fair share of time shedding tears for him, he doesn't even recall your name. He doesn't remember who you are, what you sound like, how your touches feel, or the time you two shared being so in love. 

You had vanished from his life long ago, vanished from his memories leaving absolutely no traces behind. 

He forgot you, even if you know he never intended to, even if you know it was a cruel decision of fate, he still forgot you and you can't change a thing about that. 

Silent tears fall from your eyes as you stare at him. Only you know how much you want to run to him, hold him tightly in your arms and tell him that you have waited for him, tell him that you have never stopped loving him, tell him that you love him more than anyone ever can. But you can’t.

And even if you do all these, what will be Namjoon’s reaction? He will just shove you to the ground thinking you are a crazy woman trying to throw herself at him. So you decided to leave. Meeting him unexpectedly here in the gallery should be more than enough for you. You can’t ask for more. You have no right to ask for more. 

You turn your heels to leave but you hear a faint voice calling you from behind. 

"Excuse me.." it's his voice. It's Namjoon. 

You start to panic. Contemplating whether you should run away or give in, you stay planted at your own place. 

"Hey. Um.. I am sorry to bother you but I- uh saw you staring at my direction and you seemed to be really familiar.. So, do we know each other?" Namjoon's voice is unsure and filled with confusion.

Your heart breaks. You know you should have not expected him to remember you but his confession still makes you weak on your knees. 

Blinking several times and gathering some strength, you turn around and face him. 

He's just as handsome as he used to be, if not more. 

Seeing you silent, Namjoon clarifies, "Sorry if I seem weird with my questions. I actually got into an accident last year and lost some of my memories. So I tend to ask people who they are if someone seems familiar to me. And you.." he pauses, his eyes raking through your face as if he's trying to find a clue "you seem to be someone very close to me." 

"I- I think you got the wrong idea. I mean - I, no, we.. we knew each other through some common friends but weren't exactly close." Your words fumble over each other much more than you would like. 

"oh- sorry then." A sheepish smile takes over Namjoon's face. 

His dimples make you sick and you want to run away from him. 

"I gotta go-"

"May I know your name?" 

You two speak out at the same time.

"Y/N. It's Y/N." You say hurriedly. 

"Yeah... Y/N" Namjoon whispers. 

You don't know if you're imagining things or not, but a flash of sadness passes through Namjoon's features. 

"I don't wanna sound like a creep but-" he hesitates.. "I would love to have a cup of coffee with you." 

"I am so sorry but I kinda have to go." You reply with your heart breaking into a thousand pieces all over again.

"oh.. then, can I at least have your number? Please?" Namjoon pleas. His voice quivers a bit or maybe you're just hearing things. 

You don't know what you should do. You don't know why life is playing these games with you. You don't know where this will go but what you know for sure is that you're enchanted to meet Namjoon again. So you give in and take another chance. 

"Sure." You murmur. 

Namjoon pulls out his phone from his pocket, unlocks it and gives it to you. 

As soon as you take his phone in your hands, your world starts to spin, eyes start to blur, hands start to shake because it's you. It's your picture saved as his wallpaper, the one from the art fair, under cherry blossom, wearing the same hoodie Namjoon is wearing right now. 

When you look up at him you find that his dark eyes are full to the brim with tears, which may start falling anytime. He looks as broken as you do.  

"The story line didn't end there, Y/N. It was the very first page. And... And I was enchanted to meet you. I would do anything to meet you again." 

"You- y-you remember me?" your words get choked.

"How could I not? You are deep-rooted in my heart. My brain may have forgotten a period of time but heart kept on trying to make me remember you. And it was successful." Namjoon smiles through tears, so do you.

"I hope you are not in love with someone else, you don't have someone waiting on you." he whispers, stepping close to your body.

"No- I don't." you reply, taking a step towards him.

Namjoon comes closer, cups your face and connects your forehead with his as you two intertwine your lives again standing in the middle of the gallery.

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