#domestic boys

[ittybittyremy]

Sad that we didn’t get a morning Dorym scene but I love the idea of them waking up together feeling so normal that they don’t need one

[suguruverse]

your personal space has never really truly been yours since you’ve started dating him. his muscled arm around your waist when you wake up in the morning, has become as familiar as the sunrise itself. it used to be cute, his warmth a cozy start to the day. but now, it's suffocating, like he can't bear to let you go, even in his sleep.

you shift carefully under his weight, not wanting to disturb his sleep. his breath keeping its steady rhythm against your neck, and you wonder if he dreams of you as you lean in to kiss his forehead gently. he smiles in his sleep, a small, contented expression that almost makes you want to slip right back into his arms.

the sheets rustle softly as you slip out from his grip. you slowly tiptoe across your shared bedroom, craving the simple pleasure of being able to enjoy making coffee alone. the smell of freshly ground beans fills the kitchen, and you lean against the counter, enjoying the quiet morning.

but as your coffee brews, a twinge of guilt creeps in and you can almost imagine when he'll wake up and wonder where you've gone. despite enjoying the well needed alone time, you knew the longing to be close to him will pull you back into his embrace sooner than you'd planned. almost as if in complete sync with your thoughts, you hear a mumble approaching the kitchen, and then his voice, thick with sleep, calling out softly,

"angel cmon back to bed with me, you know i don’t like sleeping without you"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ gojo, nanami, bakugou, iwaizumi hajime (27) althetic trainer, oikawa, kuroo, geto, choso, yuji, midoriya

[donutdrawsthings]

Can we talk about this? I feel like not enough people talk about this happening in the movie

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x reader

(artist: ppanae100)

You sighed as another picture popped up on your phone, sent during his so-called "study session" with friends. You’d sent him to study, and this is what he was up to. Mentally, you made a note to confiscate his phone the next time he claimed to go to a "group-study."

So, Narin Gul was indeed your husband. This young, clingy, bratty, bimbo of a man—your husband. You, a college professor. No, not his college professor. You just happened to grow up in the same neighborhood, and the moment you helped him with an essay—something he was initially too shy to ask about but did on his parents' insistence—he fell hopelessly in love. Deeply. He wanted to be yours and you to be his only.

He still couldn’t quite understand how he’d fallen for a Chemistry professor, of all people, since he hated anything related to studying. His parents had to practically beg him to pursue a degree, just for his own good after he’d all but given up on academics. In the end, he chose English, thinking it might be easier—only to now cry over novels, not because of the stories, but because he absolutely despises studying! He just wanted to be whisked away. To stay at home all day and keep himself and the house pretty.

And you, you were everything he ever dreamt of. Like his own knight, a Princess Charming. Sure, you were a bit older, and that only made it all more romantic in his mind. He, a cute and eager English Literature student in his first year, and you, a sophisticated, cold, dashing, and incredibly intelligent Chemistry professor--just the thought of it made his heart flutter. After that first interaction, he practically melted onto the floor when he returned to his room, unable to believe that you were the same (Y/N) who used to play on the streets with your friends. He, a kid at the time, would watch from the sidelines, sometimes joining in, and then you had disappeared for years to get your degree. And now you were back--thank God, you were back--and more dreamy than ever.

From that day forward, he started paying more attention to his English studies. Well, at least trying. He’d read poetry or skim through the synopsis of novels he hadn’t actually touched, hoping to impress you with a few lines memorized just for you. His bimboy brain, of course, failed to process half of it, but that didn’t stop him. He had to prove that he was more than just a pretty face, that he was your good, studious boy—even if "studying" for him meant reciting two lines of poetry and hoping they stuck.

Narin knew, deep down, that you would never accept him as your anything because of the age gap. But despite his airheaded tendencies, he had a brain--one he didn’t use often, but when he did, he was clever. So, in a move that could only come from a desperate, lovesick boy, he concocted a scenario where his honour was on THE LINE!. And, of course, it was all because of you! His genius plan? Spread the rumour that you had asked him out on a date.

That single rumor was enough to send his parents into an absolute frenzy. Both families got involved, concerned about preserving reputations and traditions. Before you knew it, you were being dragged into marriage talks, and suddenly, you had a pretty boy in your lap with plump lips and an endless supply of cheeky grins. You couldn’t help but shake your head at the absurdity of it all. Tch.

🍭"Why do I have to study?!" Narin whined, flopping dramatically onto the couch like a toddler. "I want to be a househusband! I will be a househubby! I’m not going to college! Please, Coco!" His pleading eyes were wide and desperate as if hoping you’d magically let him off the hook.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, already feeling the day’s frustration mounting. It had only been one day since the wedding--a wedding where he cried hysterically about leaving his parents’ house, despite orchestrating the entire thing himself. And now, this?

"You have to go because your parents paid for it! A degree is important. After that, you can sit in the house. Got it?"

"No, it’s not! There-" He froze, gulping as your stern gaze bore into him. His rebellious stance deflated with a huff, like a child who’d been caught sneaking cookies. "Fine..." he grumbled, crossing his arms but relenting nonetheless.

Sigh.

You were so frustrated with the way your life had turned upside down that, instead of taking time off after the wedding, you threw yourself straight back into work just to stay sane. Meanwhile, you had Narin take a few days off to stop his constant whining about everything. You needed the quiet, but what shocked you was coming home every day to a home-cooked meal that was, annoyingly, delicious. Turns out, he’s actually talented at something after all. Not to mention those adorable outfits he wears, like that Panda onesie. What an adorable little minx.

However, he’s perpetually pouty, glaring at you like a scorned child every time you leave for work. He always tries his best to make you late, his antics a cheeky mix of playful defiance and desperate need for your attention which you cave in sometimes. He hadn't stopped grumbling about not being taken on a honeymoon either, arms crossed and lips jutting out in a sulk. But he will wait, deep down, he knew you’d take him eventually. He just wouldn’t let you live in peace until you did.

His friends were apparently waiting for honeymoon pictures—how embarrassing would it be to tell them his wife was too much of a workaholic to go on one? So, of course, he told them you were saving up for something huge. Eventually, to quiet him and his friends, you took him on that honeymoon just to get it over with.

Narin always made sure to do his homework right beside you, his head often resting on the table, watching as you graded papers with that calm, focused look on your face. Did he forget to mention you looked so hot?! It was like he was in his OWN K-drama! He loved being in your presence--it was warm, comforting, and-

🍭"Narin? Narin! Stop dozing off. I want to see you writing."

He jolted upright. "Y-yes! Wait—why are you being so strict? I was just... taking a break." And there they were, those tears welling up in his eyes again. His go-to move. No, as a matter of fact he savoured your strictness. So, so much , like 'choke me already, ma'am'.

Sigh # 2

Despite his exaggerated bouts of emotion, Narin never forgot to remind everyone at college that he was a newlywed--with you as his wife, an established and respected professor. Oh, he made sure the world knew. That’s right. Go rot in jealousy, losers.

🍭"Your husband has, again...behaved very rudely in the class." Your friend, Payton who was a professor at his college called you from work. '"I mean, before that teacher went to the dean, I handled the situation.'

You glanced over at Narin, standing nearby with his arms folded, clearly shivering under your gaze. What the hell are you supposed to do with him?. You made him apologize to said teacher and now he was ranting on the way to the car.

"Not my fault! She wasn't letting me go to my hair appointment! And why weren't you picking up my phone?! Did you already find someone else?! More beautiful than ME?! ARE THEY YOUR STUDENT?!"

"You little-" You held back, controlling the urge to snap. Control, (Y/N), control. ''Get in the fucking car." You slammed the passenger door as he got in and once in, turned to him.

"You were expecting me to come and take you to a salon in the middle of my job?! And why the hell do you have an appointment in the middle of your classes in the first place?!" You knew perfectly well he made the appointment as an excuse to bunk.

"Well, forgive me, wife, for trying to look pretty for you," he muttered, looking away dramatically. Then, with a smirk, he added, "And by the way... have you got your friend spying on me here?" His cheeks flushed pink, and he giggled like a child. Possessive control freak, he thought to himself. God, that’s so blazing hot of you. Just when are you gonna collar me? That too a pretty diamond one? :(

Why is he smiling like that?

"Look, Narin, she is just doing her job—"

"Oh my God, staaahp," he interrupted with another giggle. "Just drive~. You don’t need to be so defensive about it. I know you love me so much." He pecked your cheek, likely leaving a glossy stain behind, then laughed, clearly enjoying his latest episode of theatrics.

Great, you thought. He’s at it again.

Sigh #3

Well, after that, you had to keep a close watch on him to ensure he didn’t book any more 'self-care for wifey' appointments during college days. You still wondered why he squealed and shied away whenever you demanded to check his phone. What bothered you the most was that, despite having a sharp tongue, he seemed quite naive and innocent when it came to understanding the consequences of his words and actions. This often led to clashes with his in-laws. Had his parents even bothered to teach him anything?

🍭"Good, you're ready. Let's go." You got up from the sofa as he finally emerged from the bathroom, dolled up. You were really hungry and just wanted to get to the family dinner.

"And here I was expecting you to shower me with romantic compliments... write a damn poem or something so we’d get delayed, and then YOUR family would ask why we're late so I could tell it to their faces that THEIR (Y/n) couldn't stop showering me with compliments and affection, making THEM jealous. THAT’S HOW IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE!"

"Um... you look pretty. Pretty as ever. And we’re late either way, so you still get to use that line. Come on now." You walked past him, not forgetting to--

"Hey! NO! You don’t get the 'smack my bum pass' after that lackluster compliment you threw at my face, professor." Liar, he definitely loved it.

He’s a little manipulator with the eyes that of a siren. He knows how to use #keepingyourpartnerunderyourspell tactics very well. If you get furious or don’t take his side after he acts like the spitfire he is in front of your family, then goodbye. He’s leaving with his suitcase, which is mostly empty because he knows you’ll come to bring him back home anyway, to go to his parents’. After enjoying at least half a day of tranquility , you have to bring him back before his parents call you and inform you about his hunger strike.

However, when you visit your in-laws, you’re treated like a queen, being their only daughter-in-law. Narin, although a headache sometimes, really takes care of your comfort, always standing over your head and feeding you various dishes. You just wish he would be this docile in front of your family. Perhaps one day. Your parents scold you for being so lenient with him, but what are you supposed to do? On one side, your husband won’t let you be in peace, and on the other, your family. You just use the excuse of him being young and immature every time. It hurts seeing him sad without you even realizing it.

Narin feels deeply wounded by the way your family sometimes favors you and disapproves of him, especially after how he has schemed his way into your life. Despite this, he believes their disapproval is unjust and is tormented by the idea that they want you to LEAVE HIM! Leave such a beautiful, ideal boy like him!. The fear of this happening haunts him, makes him furious, even giving him nightmares. He can't bear that. He will wilt. He won't ever let that happen!

He believes in love, just like in the fairy tales and Shakespeare’s sappy lines and knows that one day your heart will melt. He can spot the tenderness in your eyes and the way you care for him, correcting his dumb choices like saving him from sending the shared account details to an unknown number for a free couple spa day at a resort in Greece🥹🎀

🍭"Hey, Coco? Did you tell everyone that I passed my driving test?" Narin asked with a mischievous glint in his eye. It was Sunday, and he’d invited your family over for tea, or maybe he was just feeling playful and bored. He loved stirring things up a bit.

"Yes, on his first try too," you said, looking up from your laptop with a proud smile.

Narin’s cheeks turned a shade of pink at your beaming expression. "Why wouldn't I pass? You were my teacher, after all, haha. God," he turned to your mum, "Your daughter is such a scary teacher, but it was worth it. Haha!"

He got up to refill your tea and serve more snacks, catching the eye roll from your mum as he did.

HE. IS. LOVING. THIS. MARRIED. LIFE. >_<

(AN: wanna get Narin preggo- also a warm welcome to my new subs✨️)

[starjunkyard]

Obsessed with the degrees to which james wilson is a messy bitch. Primps and preens himself whenever he realises his boy best friend is stalking / sabotaging / psychological-warfare-ing him. Slept with his terminal patient. Immedicable people pleaser. Chronic adulterer. Three ex wives. PROPOSED TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AT SOMEONE ELSE'S WEDDING? Fuck you doin in the oncology wing my boy. Psychiatric ward is on the left corner

[laughroditee]

Weird domestic shit the TF141 guys do that (playfully) irk you, as their partner:

🏷️ | Price:

Wears socks during sex.

Tightens all of the jars in the house too tightly so that you’ll have to ask him to open them for you. (Toxic chivalry.)

Enjoys giving you beard rash anywhere and everywhere he possibly can.

💀 | Ghost:

Kisses you immediately after eating onions.

Leaves the toothpaste tube strangled in the center with all the toothpaste bunched at the bottom.

You find bullets everywhere, including in the freezer.

🧼 | Soap:

All of his dirty laundry is placed directly on the floor, next to the laundry basket.

Cleans up his mohawk but then doesn’t clean up the fucking hair clippings out of the sink.

Always wants to cuddle you so bad when he’s sleeping that he will squash you and/or push you out of bed.

🧢 | Gaz:

Buys your favorite snacks… for a price. Or is it… “for Price?” You’re never sure.

Offers to make you grilled cheese but then burns it because he’s too busy flirting with you.

Insists on giving you mani-pedis, only they’re so very messy. You assure him that they look great.

[lucky-stick]

the species euphoria is calling me

[demaparbat-hp]

Regarding the Cherry Wine Incident.

[comatosebunny09]

Imagine your little minion running up to you in the mansion, hugging your leg, and tripping you up. You kneel to his level with a fond smile, patting him on the head.

“What’s wrong, baby love?” you coo to your trembling toddler.

He looks at you with watery eyes, bottom lip quivering, cheeks puffed out. “Mommy, there’s a monster in my room.”

“A monster?” you parrot, smoothing his hair back. Your spooked toddler nods slowly, tiny hands clinging to your sleeve for dear life. God, he sure knows how to tug on your heartstrings.

With a fist raised in righteous fury, you say, “Well, that won’t do. Show me where this monster is so I can kick its butt.”

Sniffling, your son leads you to his bedroom, where he stands in the doorframe, pointing to his closet as you venture further inside.

“Here?” you say, hands on hips as you scrutinize the sliding doors, donning your most theatrically brave face.

He nods, hiding his face behind his hands.

You rattle the doors, trying to scare off whatever imaginary being lurks inside, putting on a show for your son. “Come out, monster! You got the wrong house! We eat monsters like you ‘round here for dinner!”

Your son giggles, a little braver now that he has his mommy here to chase away that which goes bump in the night.

Drawing one of the doors slightly ajar, you peer inside, not at all surprised to be met with a wash of scarlet, amusedly watching you from the shadows.

Rolling your eyes, you sigh, your voice dropping to a murmur whilst you glower at your husband.

“Sylus. Quit being a jackass. You’re gonna traumatize him.”

The man in question merely chuckles, shrugging from his spot crouched on the floor, plastering an innocent look onto his face. “What? He said he wanted to play ‘pretend.’”

A comically large bead of sweat forms on your temple. “I think you’re leaning into the role a little too much.”

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[willowser]

"i ain't takin' a fuckin' bath."

katsuki's half-undressed, standing in the kitchen with the fridge doors wide open; shirtless, shoulders broad and muscles round and taut, cool air raising goosebumps across his exposed skin. his un-buttoned tac pants are dangerously low on his hips, so low that you wonder—while staring at the dimples of his back—if he's doing it on purpose.

the dewy sheen of sweat he'd come home with has gone matte, leaving him in a thin, sticky, grimy layer that is grimace-inducing to feel. like most nights, dirt and soot and even blood—grown dark and less worrisome with time—color him haphazardly, strewn across his body; a mosaic of dynamight, made by his own hands.

"but you stink," you fail to suppress a smile when he snaps his head around, to fix you with an ugly look that you return. he manages to hide his own amusement in the bulge of his bicep. "i'm serious! a bath will help you relax!"

turning back to the open fridge, he grumbles, "i am relaxed," in a tone that doesn't sound relaxed. at all.

"come on," you urge, shuffling up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist despite all his dried grease and muck. "you go first and i'll be there in a minute."

that catches his attention enough that he finally closes the doors, facing you as he runs a lazy hand over his stomach. to his credit, he does look a bit more relaxed than he had when he'd come through the door—but the set of his jaw is still too stern, brow only ever furrowed, a little more argumentative than usual, even if it's harmless.

katsuki seems to consider your unspoken proposition, before finally surrendering with a roll of his eyes. "fine, but i'm takin' a shower like a grown ass man."

"no!" you groan, latching onto his arm when he moves to step around you. you try to dig your heels into the ground, but you're in the kitchen in socks, and katsuki only yanks you after him with a wicked grin. "bath! a bath will help you relax, i mean it! i've got lavender oils!"

"i ain't using' your frilly shit!"

he finally slips from you when you sputter out a laugh, tugging free from your grip before throwing you a look that is hot in more ways than one. innocent as you aimed to be, something tightens in your stomach; awakened at the sight of him.

you warn, "i'm only coming if you're in the bath!" and his loud, exaggerated groan echoes nearly throughout your entire house, swallowing up your chirpy laugh.

—but, much to your surprise, he listens.

you let him soak for a good five minutes before following after, and when you find him, he's got his head leaned back over the edge, elbows resting on either side of the tub, legs bent and knees sticking up out of the water. handsome as ever, you think, a little dreamy, before the marble of him shifts at your arrival.

he only opens one eye, and you can see already the tension has drained from his face; half-asleep, a little bloodshot and breathing too even to convince you otherwise.

"well, well, well," you murmur, lowering to the floor on your knees after his eye slips shut again. "look at you, princess."

katsuki makes a haughty noise of irritation, but doesn't bite back: a dead giveaway of his exhaustion. instead his hand finds the material of your shirt, tugging on it lightly before he slurs out, "get y'r ass in the tub."

you'd bite his fingers if they weren't still disgusting, but you place a teeny kiss on the cleanest spot you can see on his wrist. "i don't need a bath, but thanks."

"hah?" he grunts, eye shooting open again as he frowns at you. when you only smile coyly at him, he raises his head and glares at you properly. "y'dirty liar, you said—"

"i said i'd be right behind you," you grin. "not that i'd be getting in."

the water sloshes up against the sides as he straightens his posture, baring his teeth at you as he prepares, you think, to lunge out and haul you in with him despite a screaming protest—but you reach forward just before he can, dipping a hand down into the warmth right between his thighs.

katsuki jumps, seriously, leg kicking out so hard that his heel slams into the edge of the tub, when you gently hold him where he's soft. "jesus!" he all but yelps, eyes going a little wide as he realizes what you've done. what you've made of him.

he's still—marble-still—air sucking in sharply between his parted, frozen lips as you touch him, and heat pools so obviously, so suddenly, in his cheeks, sweet enough that you want to bite into the apples of them. in your hand he swells thick, quickly, a little slippery from the soap he's already added to the water.

all his tension returns, as a different strain; katsuki swallows, hard, as his eyes dart back and forth between your own and where your hand disappears into the water; when you gently rub your thumb back and forth across the tip of him, his back straightens, even moreso, and, you don't think he knows it, but his legs part even further.

an invitation if you'd ever seen one.

he finally comes back to life when you lean in close enough to nudge your nose to his, just to see him blink.

he's so cute, you want to eat him alive.

"the f-fuck are y'doin'?" he whispers, eyes dropping back down as you stroke him lightly, just enough to coil him tighter. at the end of the tub, water sloshes quietly from the movement, and katsuki's ears burn.

you've caught him entirely off guard, and if it wasn't clear before, it becomes crystalline when you kiss him, deeply. he's lazy to reciprocate, breathing softly, open-mouthed, as you press a soft kiss to his top lip and then to his bottom, whispering his name back to him just to hear his sharp inhale.

you time a clever stroke of your wrist with the firm press of your mouth to his, insistent and fast, urging the wildness of him to catch up, to come out. it hits him all at once—your desire, his own, the heat of it all—and his hand shoots out of the water to grip the back of your neck, a deep groan slipping from his chest as his cock kicks in your hand.

you try more than once to pull back from him with a sneaky little laugh, but his fingers tangle in your hair and he kisses your teeth and you think, maybe, you're not teasing him enough. his knees knock lightly against the ceramic as he tries to spread them, even further, and his hips shift up with every slick pump of your fist, urgent and eager.

he speaks, furiously, against your lips, when you snatch your hand away, instead teasing your fingers along the inside of his thigh. "get—in th'fuckin' tub." his shoulders tremble, ever so slightly. "i ain't askin' again."

you laugh against him and his nostrils flare. "you didn't ask at all!"

"so quit your bullshit already."

you lick his bottom lip, nipping at the fat of it gently before weaving your own hand into his damp hair. "no," you tease, like a brat, but when you tug enough at the strands, he gets the hint and allows you to pull away. "i'm trying to help you relax, you know?"

katsuki doesn't respond at first, only huffing out a frustrated sound when you wrap your hand around his length again. his face is steaming, despite how firm he's trying to be; your own desire strikes hot when his head tips back just slightly, jaw straining as he grits his teeth.

"no," he finally grunts, eyes dark and pinned to you. "'s'the last thing i feel, is-is relaxed."

"hmm," you make a point to frown and look away, like you're thinking, but katsuki's impatience wins out and he drags you back in for a shuddering kiss. he's fervent, now, nipping at your lip and brushing his tongue against your own eagerly, trying to muffle a painful sound against your cheek. "that's too bad," you tell him—but you don't think he hears you, really, over his low curse and the returning slosh of water against the tub.

but when you ask him again, only a handful of minutes later—his boneless answer is precisely what you were looking for.

[wrong-turn-ronald]

Big shout out to Momo Ayase’s gyaru friends, Muko & Miko, for being the “yes and?” to Momo’s feral antics (queen) & showing support for her cringe-fail wet cat of a boyfriend.

[machveil]

Domestic!Simon “Ghost” Riley Headcanons

feeding the soft-hearted fans that want to see Simon happy

Domestic!Simon Riley wakes up when the sun starts peaking across the horizon - but when you’re comfortably tucked against his chest? well, he’s not on base and doesn’t have to worry about getting up right now

he can’t fall back asleep, once he’s awake he’s not being lulled back to bed, but that’s okay. he’ll just hold you close and let his eyes flutter shut - he’ll wait for you to stir and press sloppy kisses to your cheeks. you always whine, “Simon— Simon, c’mon—“, soft laughter spilling past your lips when his fingers slip under your shirt and graze your sides

Domestic!Simon Riley had a hard time slowing down. before? he’d be slipping out of bed, a soft kiss to your hairline as he pulled the covers back over you. he was used to morning runs, used to coming home to you still asleep. he’d try turning the shower on as quietly as possible - a quick rinse before he’s stepping out and toweling off his hair

now? he can’t imagine getting up before the birds are chirping - he can’t imagine leaving you alone in bed. so when he feels you shift a little closer, a little hum in the back of your throat as you seek his warmth, he sighs. legs tangled together, he’s resting his hand on your back, the other tucked underneath his pillow

his heart always beats a little quicker when you sleepily mumble his name, voice a little raspy. “Mornin’, love.”, he murmurs, his own voice a little deeper, a little more gravely. he’s pulling you closer to him, wedged against his chest as he kisses your forehead

he’s content to stay in bed as long as you’re with him, his big frame keeping you warm. and he’s a charming sight to look at in the morning - a couple pillow lines across his cheek, dirty blond hair messy and poking every which way. “Get a good look, lovie?”, he asks, slipping his hand from your back to run it through his hair

but, eventually he has to get up - joints achy as he crawls out of bed. t-shirt wrinkly and sweatpants hanging low, he’s moving to the kitchen to make a little breakfast. gets the kettle going on the stove, a mug of black tea to go with whatever he eats

if you’re going out for the day he’ll slip you a twenty, peck your lips, and wish you well. you’re both sharing your location, and he trusts that you’ll call if you need him. he’ll spend a slow Saturday at home, your constant pestering for him to relax ingrained in his brain

it’s a nice contrast from being on base, from being on a deployment - just kicking his feet up and watching a game. he breaks out his reading glasses when the paper hits the front door, skimming over the news. framing his face nicely, dark brown eyes cast down behind the lenses

he does eventually go for his morning run, although it’s cutting it close to noon. just a couple laps around the neighborhood before he’s back at home, rolling his shoulders as he makes his way to the bathroom. hot water has his muscles relaxing, the scent of your shampoo aromatic and light. he’s nearly groaning as he works it through his hair, scratching gently at his scalp the way you would - he misses you even though you’ll be back in a few hours

Domestic!Simon Riley that looks through his photo gallery, gaze smitten as he thumbs through photos of you - mostly candid and out of frame, little cozy moments where he thought you looked cute. they range from you on the couch, half asleep with the remote in your hand to date nights, sipping on your drink as you read over a menu. he likes the ones where you caught him before he snapped the a photo, eyes a little wide as you look at him, lips quirked up

[ak319]

Lovesick bubbly hubby x fem reader

ミ☆Headcanon#3𓏲

(Warnings: Contains mpreg (bxg pairing, YES, boy x fem reader), and matriarchal themes/gender role reverse so don't interact if you are not comfortable!! ‎♡‧₊˚)

♥︎ Headcanon #2

🍭"Narin, just one more paragraph, c'mon. Then we can go get some ice cream."

"You know, you're the cruellest wife anyone could have. Making me do assignments in this condition."

"What condition? You're fine, Narin. You're not even the one typing your essay. Just one more paragraph, c'mon, you can do it." He acts as if he's in his last months, when he’s only three weeks in. After another exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in, and you closed the laptop with relief.

"It's your last semester. Just get it done, and then your lifelong dream of staying home will come true."

"Are you taking me out for that ice cream or not?" You chuckled, getting up and offering him a hand. "Let's go."

Narin finally got what he wanted after so long, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t be enough to pull him out of university. Still, the thought of becoming a father—of your child—filled him with uncontrollable excitement. He just prayed that your family wouldn’t cast an evil eye on the baby. Hmph! Lost in thought, he unconsciously placed his hands over his stomach as you drove, unaware of the silent storm brewing within him.

Meanwhile, your mind was all over the place. First, an unexpected husband, and now a child on the way?! You couldn't stop worrying about the future. You never imagined yourself as a mother, especially not with a husband like Narin, who could barely take care of himself. Maybe he would mature once the baby was born... or would you just have two kids to look after instead? How did this even happen? Weren’t you both careful? Wasn’t he taking pills, too? Well, it didn’t matter now. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him, hands protectively resting on his stomach, looking content and as happy as ever. You sighed and decided to put on some music to drown out the spiralling thoughts. Soon enough, you both reached the ice cream shop.

Months passed, and Narin’s university days came to an end. It had been three months into his pregnancy when one day, you came home to find him curled up on the sofa with Prince. There was no usual excitement, no running up to greet you like he always did.

🍭"Narin? You okay? Is something wrong?" By now, the panic in your voice was impossible to hide. You gently made him sit up, cupping his face, and your heart sank as you saw his puffy, red eyes. He was still sniffling, avoiding your gaze, his usual brightness nowhere to be found.

"Narin? You're making me worried. Tell me, what's wrong, baby?"

"I-just-what if you... leave me?! Does your family think I'm not competent enough to bear your child?! Because I feel like it!" His voice cracked with emotion, and you could hear the frustration in every word. Where was all this anger coming from?

"What are you talking about? Who said that?! And why on earth would I leave you?" You could feel your own heart racing. Narin might be childish and immature at times, but he was still your husband, and you cared for him deeply even more so now. Why couldn’t he see that?

"I would never abandon you. Never, you or our child."

"What if it’s a boy? Like me?!" His voice trembled with insecurity, his eyes wide with fear. It was clear the pregnancy hormones were heightening all his worries. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to stay calm. He needed your reassurance more than ever now.

"Then we’ll love him just the same, Narin. Just like I love you." He finally looked into your eyes.

"Listen, Narin baby. You’re very, very important to me. I love you and our future child, no matter if they’re a boy or a girl. I just want you both to be healthy, and my family wants the same. No one is doubting you, and if they are--just tell me their name. I’ll have a talk with them myself. Now, tell me, did someone say anything to you?"

He shook his head sincerely.

"Then?" you asked gently, stroking his hair.

"I... just had these thoughts..." he whispered, voice trembling slightly. He grasped your collar tightly, his body now almost in your lap. "You won’t leave, right?"

"Never." You held him closer, your voice firm with reassurance, and yet he needed more. He needed to drown in that reassurance, to feel it in every part of his being. You held him tighter, but it still didn’t feel close enough. "And don’t let these thoughts ruin your mood or stress you out. You hear me? Promise me, you won’t."

He nodded, but this time he clung to you like a lifeline, his fingers tightening in your shirt. "Promise," he whispered, his heart racing. He knew that you were not going to leave him but he just wanted to make sure and...was bored. Damn, he can be a really good actor if he wants to but in all seriousness, it's important to remind you that he is now your everything, your new family. In his head, there was no room for doubt. You belonged to him, and no one else could ever come between you two.... and now three of you. Not now, not ever.

In his eyes, the most delightful thing is making you run for whatever he craves, even if it’s the middle of the night or a drive to another town just to get a snack he tried once. He revels in the fact that you’ll do anything for him, and he takes immense pride in bragging about how caring and romantic his wife is. He squeals with childlike excitement when you’re out fulfilling his whims, loving how dreamy and devoted you are.

But lately, there’s a shadow of sadness in his eyes as he watches you work harder than ever. You’ve started a new venture with your friend, and it’s consuming more of your time and energy.

🍭"You should take a break now," he said, plopping down next to you on the couch and peering over your shoulder at your laptop. His tone was light, but there was an edge of concern beneath his playful words. "I don’t want to be a widower in this condition." You jerked your head towards him in shock at his bluntness. It was classic Narin--his naive habit of saying whatever came to mind without fully thinking it through. You just sighed, shaking your head at his antics.

"I’m not dying here, you don’t have to worry. I’ll be done in a few minutes."

"Why are you even doing this?! Isn’t your salary enough-"

"No, it’s not enough. Certainly not for the future when the kid is going to grow up and go to school and stuff." Narin grumbled, leaning his head against your chest with a sigh. He was like a needy kitten, wanting your comfort and attention, and the warmth of your chest made him feel a little safer. 'As disciplined and farsighted as ever. So fucking hot.' Well, he is kind of glad too, now that you are working so much, you rarely have time to visit your own family. Hehe. That's right wifey, work for me and your child now, our child.

"Yeah, you’re right. And also, it’s not like we’re going to have only one, right? I was a single child, so I want more than one kid. Got it?" Your hands paused momentarily over the keyboard.

"Um--yeah, but focus on this one for now..." Narin’s smile widened as he traced his finger lightly across your chest. "Oki! Our kids are going to be the prettiest and the smartest!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, even as worries about the future tugged at the edges of your thoughts. "Of course," you replied softly, placing a gentle kiss on his crown before returning to your work. In that moment, the presence of each other made the stress feel a little more bearable.

@mel-vaz 🍭

[moose987]

How often do you think they have to reorganise their bookshelves?

Because you KNOW Charles is just shoving books back on in random places.

And you KNOW this drives Edwin absolutely crazy!

“Charles! Why on earth would you put supernatural beings next to our collection of Sherlock Holmes?!”

[lila-lou]

✨Lesson learned✨

Summary: You upset your boyfriend by dancing with another guy, so he sets out to teach you how to behave.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader (DARK)

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, kinda Rape, Language, Angst, Hurt, Manipulation, Violence, Humiliation - it´s just pure darkness

Word Count: 5168

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

The relationship with Ben had always been a rollercoaster ride, filled with highs and lows that left you dizzy and disoriented. When you first started dating, you held onto the hope that he would change, that maybe the glimpses of softness he showed were a sign of something deeper. But as time went on, it became painfully clear that his misogynistic tendencies ran deep, overshadowing any progress he made. It was a constant tug-of-war between his moments of kindness and his ignorant behavior, leaving you feeling drained and uncertain about your future together.

So again, as you stood in front of him at the bar, a hand gently resting on his shoulder, you mustered up the courage to ask, “Ben, come dance with me?”. You nodded towards Kimiko and Frenchie on the dance floor, their laughter and joy infectious.

Ben grumbled a terse "No", his irritation palpable in the air. But undeterred, you tried again, hoping to break through the barrier he had erected between you. "Please, just one dance", you insisted, your voice tinged with a hint of desperation.

However, before you could finish your plea, Ben snapped at you, his tone cutting through the music and laughter around you. "I said no, can't you listen for once?". His words stung, leaving you feeling small and defeated once again.

You tried not to let anyone see that his snapping hurt you, so you overplayed it with a nod and a soft smile. While Ben took a sip of his whiskey, you sat back down beside him, your eyes fixed on the dance floor. Annie and Huggies were dancing too, their happiness a stark contrast to the tension between you and Ben. With a sigh, you realized that once again, you and Ben were alone in your own little world of strained communication and unspoken frustrations.

You bit your lip, bouncing your leg up and down, while Ben's focus remained glued to his phone. You were happy that he had even agreed to join you and your friends at the bar, but right now, you kinda wished he hadn’t come. He didn't talk to you, didn't dance with you, nothing. The silence between you was heavy, filled only with the sounds of the lively bar.

You sighed, unable to hide your disappointment, and it earned a snarky comment from Ben. "What's with the dramatic sighing? If you're so bored, maybe you should have stayed home", he muttered without looking up from his phone.

His words cut deep, but you forced a neutral expression, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you. Instead, you just looked back towards the dance floor, wondering how something that once felt so promising had turned into this.

After a while, some guy approached you. Of course, he wasn’t Ben, but he looked pretty handsome. His blue eyes sparkled as he smiled at you. “Would you like to dance?”, he asked, his voice warm and inviting.

You glanced beside you, but Ben didn't even bother to look up from his phone. Clearly not paying attention to you at all. More than hurt by his disinterest, you took all the bravery you had left and smiled at the stranger, nodding. You stood up and walked with him over to the dance floor.

As you started dancing, it was nothing too close or dirty; you just wanted to have fun and forget the tension with Ben, even if only for a moment. The stranger's easy-going nature and genuine interest in you made you feel lighter, the weight of Ben's neglect slowly lifting as you moved to the music. You laughed and twirled, enjoying the simple pleasure of being seen and appreciated, if only by someone new.

It wasn't until 20 minutes later that Annie and Hughie approached Ben, slightly sweating from dancing, and asked, "Hey, Ben, have you seen Y/N?".

Ben looked up, visibly annoyed. He glanced to his side and realized you were gone. Scanning the room, his eyes finally landed on you, laughing with a guy he didn’t know. There was a respectable distance between you and the guy, but still, his anger began to simmer.

Annie followed his gaze, swallowing hard when she saw you on the dance floor. Her eyes flicked back to Ben, noting the veins standing out on his neck, a clear sign that he was trying everything to keep his temper in check. But it was obvious he was close to losing it.

"Ben, it's just a dance", Annie said softly, trying to diffuse the situation. "She just wants to have fun".

Ben's jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. "I can see that", he replied through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving you and the guy.

Hughie put a hand on Ben's shoulder, trying to offer some comfort. "Maybe you should go talk to her, Ben. Clear things up".

Ben took a deep breath, his anger barely contained, and stood up. "Yeah, maybe I fucking should", he muttered, striding towards the dance floor with a determined look on his face.

Ben approached you within seconds, and without a word, he punched the guy in the face. He tried his best to hold back his supe strength to avoid killing him outright, but the guy was still knocked out, his nose and jaw clearly broken. Despite the few screams from people around you, Ben gripped your upper arm with a fierce hold, tugging you out of the bar with such force that it left you in tears.

Outside, he shoved you towards a nearby taxi, growling, "Get the fuck inside". His eyes blazed with fury, making it clear there was no room for argument.

You stumbled into the taxi, your arm throbbing from his grip and tears streaming down your face. The driver looked alarmed but said nothing as Ben slammed the door shut behind you.

Meanwhile, inside the bar, Annie and Hughie exchanged worried glances before rushing to help the guy who had danced with you. There was nothing they could do for you now. They had warned you more than once about Ben, but you hadn’t listened. Now, they could only hope you would be safe and find a way out of this toxic cycle.

The taxi pulled away, the night outside a blur as you tried to process what had just happened. The harsh reality of Ben's unpredictable anger and possessiveness was hitting you harder than ever.

Inside the taxi, you held your arm, tears rolling down your face as a huge bruise already started to form. Ben had always been a bit rough in handling you, but he had never been this mad, never actually hurt you like this. Sure, during sex, your hips sometimes got a few bruises when he squeezed them too tight while he came and was simply overwhelmed, but this right now was completely different.

Beside you, Ben breathed heavily, his angry gaze fixed on you. You tried not to look at him, fearing that meeting his eyes might provoke another outburst. The tension in the confined space of the taxi was suffocating, each second dragging on like an eternity.

“You really thought it was a good idea to fucking dance with some random guy?”, Ben finally spat, his voice dripping with anger. “Do you have any idea how that made me look?”.

You flinched at his words, struggling to find your voice. “I just wanted to have fun, Ben. You weren’t paying any attention to me”, you said softly, your voice trembling.

The taxi driver kept his eyes on the road, clearly uncomfortable but not daring to intervene.

Ben's rage intensified, his face contorting with fury. "Fun? With another man?", he repeated, his voice louder and more menacing. "You acted like a fucking little whore, and you should know better!".

You flinched again, the sting of his words cutting deeper than the physical pain. "Ben, please", you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I wasn't doing anything wrong. I just wanted to dance".

"Just wanted to dance?", he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. "You're mine. You don't get to just do whatever the hell you want".

You felt a mixture of fear and defiance welling up inside you. "I didn't mean to upset you", you said, your voice barely audible. "But you can't treat me like this".

Ben's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "I can treat you however I damn well please", he snapped. "You're lucky I don't do worse for making me look like a fool in front of everyone".

The taxi driver shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes fixed firmly on the road. You felt a pang of sympathy for the man, dragged into this toxic exchange against his will.

As the driver stopped in front of your and Ben’s apartment building, Ben paid quickly, his movements sharp and impatient. You hurried out of the car, knowing that if you didn’t move fast enough, Ben would likely drag you out himself. Your body was shaking as you opened the door and walked towards the apartment, Ben close behind you.

The elevator ride was tense and silent, the air thick with unspoken words and simmering anger. Your mind raced, trying to think of a way to defuse the situation or at least protect yourself from what might come next.

When you finally reached your apartment, your hands trembled as you unlocked the door. You stepped inside, your heart pounding in your chest. Ben followed, closing the door behind him with a resounding thud.

“You think you can just embarrass me like that and walk away?”, he spat, his eyes burning with anger.

You backed away slowly, your voice trembling as you tried to explain. “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you, Ben. I just needed some attention, some fun. You weren’t—”.

“I wasn’t what?”, he interrupted, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. “I wasn’t doting on you like some pathetic lapdog? You need to learn your place”.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you looked up at him, feeling small and powerless. “Ben, please. This isn’t right. We can’t keep going like this”.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes—an emotion that wasn’t anger, perhaps regret or pain. But it was quickly replaced by the familiar, cold rage.

Before you could say another word, his palm connected with your cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating through the room. The force of the blow sent you reeling, your vision blurring as pain radiated through your face. You stumbled back, clutching your cheek, tears spilling freely down your face.

“You don’t get to fucking tell me what’s right”, he growled, his voice low and dangerous. The venom in his words left you trembling, your body shaking with a mix of fear and pain.

The tears came harder now, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Ben’s expression twisted in anger as he watched you. “Stop fucking crying”, he yelled, his voice rising to a furious pitch. “Or I’ll give you a reason to fucking cry”.

You tried to stifle your sobs, pressing your hand harder against your mouth, but the fear and pain were too overwhelming. Ben’s rage seemed to grow with every tear that fell, as he struggled to contain his anger.

He took a step closer, towering over you. “I fucking swear, if you don’t shut up…”, he threatened, leaving the rest of his words hanging ominously in the air.

In that moment, you realized that there was no reasoning with him, no calming his fury.

You stood there, your hand pressing hard against your mouth, the right side of your face completely swollen and red. Despite your best efforts to remain silent, the fear and pain made it impossible not to sob. Your breath hitched with each sob, your chest twitching up and down uncontrollably. You were shaking, your entire body a testament to the trauma you were enduring.

Ben’s eyes bored into you, a terrifying mix of rage and contempt. “Look at you”, he spat, his voice dripping with disdain.

You couldn’t meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the floor as you tried to steady your breathing, your sobs barely contained. The room felt smaller, suffocating, as his presence dominated every corner.

“Do you understand now?”, he continued, his tone quieter but no less menacing. “You don’t get to act out and make a fool of me”.

You nodded, trying not to upset him further, hoping to placate his rage. But Ben wasn’t done with you just yet. He needed you to learn what happened if you didn’t behave yourself. You were his girl, after all, and no one else got to touch you.

“Good”, he said, his voice icy and controlled. “But I don’t think you fully understand yet”.

He stepped closer, his towering presence casting a shadow over you. You flinched as his hand reached out, expecting another strike, but instead, he grabbed your chin roughly, forcing you to look up at him. His grip was tight, his fingers digging into your skin painfully.

“You belong to me”, he said, his eyes boring into yours. “No one else gets to touch you, no one else gets to see you like this. Do you hear me?”.

You nodded again, your breath hitching in fear. “Yes, Ben”, you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it”, he demanded, his grip tightening even more.

“I belong to you”, you repeated, tears spilling over once more. “No one else”.

He released your chin, shoving you back slightly. “Good. Now remember that”, he said, his voice filled with a cold satisfaction. “And don’t ever make me remind you again”.

You stumbled back, catching yourself against the kitchen island. Ben's eyes never left you, his expression a mix of anger and satisfaction. He muttered something under his breath, barely audible, but you caught the tail end of it: "Now turn the fuck around, face down".

Terror gripped you, but you knew better than to resist. Shaking, you slowly turned around, facing the kitchen island, your hands gripping the edge tightly. The cold surface felt like a stark contrast to the heat radiating from your swollen cheek.

"Face down", he repeated, his voice sharp and commanding.

You lowered yourself, your cheek pressing against the cool countertop, tears streaming silently from your eyes. Every muscle in your body was tense, bracing for whatever was to come next.

Behind you, you heard Ben move closer, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. His presence loomed over you, and you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. "Don't ever forget who you belong to", he growled, his voice a harsh whisper in your ear.

Your mind raced, searching for a way out, but the fear kept you rooted to the spot. You knew that any attempt to resist would only provoke him further, and the thought of what he might do if pushed too far was too terrifying to contemplate.

Time seemed to stretch on, each second a painful eternity as you lay there, your breath shallow and uneven.

You heard Ben’s belt rustling behind you, the sound sending a chill down your spine. He pulled down his jeans and boxers just enough to free his dick. While he gave himself a few pumps to make himself hard, he yanked up your dress, exposing your ass. With a hard tug, he ripped away your panties, leaving red marks where the fabric bit into your skin as he pulled on it.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the sobs that threatened to escape. The pain of his rough handling mixed with the humiliation of the situation, making you feel utterly powerless. Ben’s heavy breathing filled the room, a harsh reminder of the imminent violation.

“Don’t move”, he ordered, his voice cold and detached. You could feel him positioning himself behind you, the heat of his body pressing against your exposed skin.

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

As he was about to push inside you, he grabbed your hip, making you flinch reflexively. Snapping at you that he told you not to move, he slapped your ass with such force that you were shoved into the kitchen counter. You were certain he had just used his supe strength on you for the first time. The impact nearly crushed your hipbones against the hard edge of the countertop. It was impossible to tell what pained more—your behind or your hipbones.

More tears welled in your eyes as the shock and agony consumed you. The tears blurred your vision, and your body trembled uncontrollably. The brutal reality of his power and your helplessness was more evident than ever.

“Did I tell you to fucking move or not?”, he hissed.

You shook your head, too terrified to speak, your cheek still stinging from his slap. Every part of you ached, the pain almost unbearable. Yet, amidst the physical agony, the emotional toll weighed even heavier.

He positioned himself again, his grip on your hip like a vice.

With that, he pushed inside you with one hard and deep thrust that nearly had you vomiting from the pain. He knew how tight you were and how big he was. You always struggled even when you were wet, but now it was just excruciatingly painful. You could swear he had ripped you apart with just that one thrust. You cried out, the agony overwhelming every sense.

Ignoring your cries and sobs, he pulled back, his movements devoid of any compassion. With brutal force, he pushed right back inside, all the way, making you feel like you were being torn apart anew. Each thrust was a reminder of your helplessness, a brutal testament to his dominance.

Your mind struggled to cope with the pain and the violation, each moment stretching into an eternity. The tears continued to fall, each sob a desperate plea for mercy that went unheard.

As he continued, his breath heavy and labored, he muttered under his breath, "You're mine. You need to learn to behave".

You kept whimpering breathlessly, your body barely able to keep up with the intensity of his movements. The room seemed to close in around you, the walls pressing in with the weight of your fear and pain.

Ben grunted, his voice thick with frustration and anger. "I don't want to do this", he spat, "but you leave me no other choice".

Each word was like a dagger to your already fragile spirit, the cruelty of his actions and his justification for them making the situation even more unbearable. You tried to stifle your sobs, but the pain and fear were too overwhelming.

"Why can't you just do as you're told?", he growled, his grip on your hips tightening painfully. "Why do you have to make everything so difficult?".

The desperation in his voice mingled with his rage, creating a terrifying mix of emotions that left you feeling utterly powerless.

His grip softened slightly, and his tone shifted, almost pleading. “Just say you’ve learned your lesson”, he muttered, “so I can stop”.

Through your tears and pain, you managed to whisper, “I’ve learned my lesson”. The words felt hollow, but you hoped they would be enough to make this torment end.

Ben’s movements slowed, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “That isn’t enough”, he said harshly. “You need to mean it”.

Desperation clawed at your heart, and you struggled to find the words that would convince him. “I… I mean it, Ben”, you stammered, forcing as much sincerity into your voice as you could muster. “I’ve learned my lesson. Please, just stop”.

For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, but then he continued, his grip tightening once more. Each thrust felt like it was breaking you further, both physically and emotionally. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the sobs that threatened to escape.

Finally, with a grunt of satisfaction, he finished inside you. The violation felt even more complete, a harsh reminder of his dominance. He released you abruptly, and you collapsed against the counter, your body trembling and tears streaming down your face.

“Remember this”, he said coldly, his breath still heavy. “Next time, you won’t get off so easily”.

As he pulled away and adjusted his clothes, you remained where you were, too shaken to move. The silence that followed was suffocating, each breath you took a painful reminder of what you had endured.

"Get cleaned up", he ordered, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "You look like a fucking mess".

His words stung, but you forced yourself to move, your body aching with every step. You made your way to the bathroom, each movement a struggle. Once inside, you closed the door behind you and locked it, leaning against the sink for support.

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the image almost too much to bear. The tear-streaked face, the swollen cheek, the haunted look in your eyes—it all felt like a nightmare you couldn't wake up from.

Turning on the faucet, you splashed cold water on your face, trying to wash away the tears and the pain. As the water trickled down, you took deep breaths, willing yourself to find some semblance of composure.

With trembling hands, you reached for a washcloth. Just then, you noticed the small blood droplets trickling down your inner thighs. The sight made your breath catch in your throat, the stark evidence of your ordeal adding another layer of shock to your already overwhelmed senses.

You pressed the washcloth against your skin, trying to clean the blood as gently as possible, but the pain made you wince. The cold water did little to numb the sting, both physical and emotional. Each wipe reminded you of the violation, the brutality of Ben’s actions.

As you continued to clean yourself up, your mind raced.

After what felt like an eternity, you finally managed to clean yourself up. You dressed in fresh clothes, trying to cover the bruises and marks as best as you could. Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself, knowing you had to face Ben again.

Opening the bathroom door, you stepped out cautiously. Ben was still in the living room, his expression unreadable. You avoided his gaze, but as you walked towards the bedroom, Ben called after you, stopping you in your tracks. Your heart raced and your hands started to tremble again. Every step made you wince in pain, but you turned around and walked back towards him, bracing yourself for whatever was to come next.

You stood in the doorway, wearing a thin, long soft sweatshirt and matching pants that you hoped would hide the bruises and marks. Ben’s expression was still unreadable, but his voice was softer now, almost deceptively gentle.

“Come closer”, he ordered, a hint of something unreadable in his tone.

You hesitated, every instinct screaming at you to stay away, but you knew better than to disobey him now. Taking a deep breath, you took a few steps closer, each movement sending jolts of pain through your body.

He watched you intently, his eyes following your every move. “You know why I had to do that, right?”, he asked, his voice still soft but carrying an underlying threat.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The fear and anxiety were almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to remain calm, to not provoke him further.

“Good”, he said, his tone slightly more approving. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to know how to behave”.

You swallowed.

“Come here”, he said, extending a hand towards you.

You walked over to him slowly, each step a reminder of the pain and fear you were trying to suppress. When you reached him, Ben’s grip was surprisingly gentle as he pulled you onto his lap, positioning you so that you were straddling his hips.

The change in his demeanor was disorienting. He had been so brutal just moments before, and now he was almost tender. His hands rested on your hips, the same place where his grip had been vice-like earlier.

“You know I do this because I care about you”, he murmured, his eyes searching yours.

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure. The closeness was suffocating, yet you forced yourself to nod, to agree, to do whatever it took to keep him calm. “I understand”, you whispered, though the words felt like ashes in your mouth.

Ben’s hands moved up and down your sides, almost in a soothing manner. “Good”, he said softly.

You nodded again, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch, though gentle now, was a reminder of the power he wielded over you.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and for a moment, it almost felt normal.

With that, his attention turned back to his joint and the TV, his grip on you still firm but now gentle. He held you close, his arms wrapped around you as if trying to erase the brutality of earlier with this forced tenderness. The flickering light from the TV cast shadows across the room, adding to the surreal feeling of the moment.

You sat there, straddling his hips, your body tense and your mind racing. Every muscle screamed for you to get away, to find a safe place, but you knew better than to try and leave now. Ben’s mood could change in an instant, and you couldn’t risk provoking him again.

He adjusted his hold on you, pulling you even closer. “See, this is nice”, he murmured, almost to himself. “I just want us to be close”.

You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice to remain steady. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the precariousness of your situation. His words and actions were so contradictory that it was hard to grasp any sense of stability or safety.

As he focused on the TV, you tried to find a place of calm within yourself. The physical closeness was suffocating, but you forced yourself to breathe slowly, to remain as composed as possible.

He felt your heart still racing and brushed his hand gently over your back. “Relax”, he mumbled, his touch soft and almost soothing. It was as if he was afraid to hurt you now. The gentleness felt like a cruel twist.

“I love you”, he murmured, his voice filled with a strange mix of sincerity and possessiveness. The words hit you hard, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. How could someone who claimed to love you inflict so much pain and fear?

You swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, but they fell anyway, silently streaming down your cheeks.

Ben’s hand continued to move slowly over your back, as if he believed that this moment of tenderness could erase the horror of what had just happened. “You know that, right?”, he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for affirmation.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak.“I know”, you whispered finally, your voice barely audible.

Ben brushed your tears away gently with his thumb, his touch surprisingly tender. “Come on, baby, stop crying”, he whispered, his voice a strange mix of concern and possessiveness. His fingers traced the path of your tears.

You nodded slightly, though the tears continued to fall. His gentleness now felt almost surreal. It was hard to reconcile these two sides of him, the loving and the violent.

“Shh, it’s okay”, he murmured, pulling you closer against his chest. “I don’t want to see you cry”.

You pressed your face into his shoulder, hiding your tears from him, but they kept coming. The conflicting emotions within you were too much to contain.

“Just relax”, he said again, his hand continuing to stroke your back. “Everything’s going to be okay”.

He gently pressed you closer by your hips, and you instantly shook and cried out in pain. Ben’s eyes widened with genuine concern. “Does it hurt?”, he asked, his voice softer, his hand hesitating on your hip.

You nodded, biting your lip to stifle the sobs. “Yes”, you whispered, unable to meet his gaze.

A look of confusion and something akin to regret flickered across his face. “I’m sorry”, he murmured, his hand loosening its grip. “I didn’t mean to hurt you that much”.

The sincerity in his voice was disorienting, making it even harder to process the rollercoaster of emotions. You wanted to believe the gentler side of him, but the pain and fear were too fresh, too real.

“It’s okay”, you said softly, more out of a need to pacify him than anything else. You knew you had to keep him calm, to avoid provoking another outburst.

“Come on”, he whispered softly, “let’s get you to bed”. He stood up, carrying you with him, his movements careful and measured as if trying not to cause you any more pain.

You felt a strange mix of relief and trepidation as he held you. His gentleness now was in such stark contrast to his earlier brutality that it was hard to reconcile the two. You wrapped your arms around his neck, allowing yourself to be carried.

Ben carried you to the bedroom and gently laid you down on the bed. “You need to rest”, he said, his voice still soft, but you could sense the underlying tension. “I’ll stay with you”.

You nodded slightly, too exhausted and sore to protest. The bed felt like a small haven of comfort despite the circumstances. Ben climbed in beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist, holding you close but carefully avoiding your sore spots.

He stroked your hair gently, as if trying to soothe away the pain he had caused. "You need to rest", he repeated softly, his breath warm against your ear.

You closed your eyes, trying to focus on your breathing.

"Everything's going to be alright", Ben murmured, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

As the minutes ticked by, you felt the exhaustion from the day's events start to take over. Your body ached, each bruise and mark a painful reminder.

Ben's grip on your waist tightened slightly, as if he sensed your thoughts. "I love you", he whispered again, his voice tinged with a desperation that made your heart ache.

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to respond. "I love you too", you whispered.

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